#vampires have souls argue with the wall

[annyankers]

also hot take (?): but vampires DO have souls. the creation of a vampire in btvs lore is literally that a demonic essence/spirit/spiritual energy (in this instance a vampiric one and not some other kind of demon) enters a human corpse and parasitically latches on, altering the human corpse to better suit it with an initial burst of spooky evil demon magic (which is part of why i never think any lore that says vampire can't do magic makes sense like, how do you think they even function fam?). it then uses the info and identity of the former inhabitant that's all still locked up in those dead synapses to help it acclimate to the new dimension and build a sense of identity. you can argue that the vampire is not your dead friend but what is a person if not their memories and thoughts? all of which the vampire now shares too. so that's a fun little thing to puzzle on in philosophy class.

vampires in the buffy world are pretty explicitly a manufactured creature built of a demonic essence/entity grafted into a human cadaver which merge to make a new species which is why they're so low on the demon hierarchy. they're the most mongrel-y of all the half-breeds. what is the soul if not a spiritual essence that fuels and motivates the body? the metaphysical component that makes the system complete? what is the vampire of not a perversion of the human condition? does it not then stand that the vampire soul is the twisted mirror of the human one?

the thing is that while this is Kinda Common Sense when you sit down and just look at objectively how the vampire is made it's a dangerous concept in universe and we fall pray to believe the same propaganda built to ensnare our characters.

the slayer was made in almost the exact same process as a vampire only with a living subject-- a demonic essence grafted into a human host. there is no magic leash on a slayer, there are no words that can be chanted to bring her to heel, the watchers have to use standard psychological manipulation to control her. a slayer who realizes that she has more in common with vampires on a fundamental level than she does humans (tho not on a moral or motivation level obvs) is very dangerous to their control and to the concept of "slayer as sheepdog" as a whole. conditioning them to see vampires as animals and not sentient humanoid beings with thoughts, feelings, hopes and dreams, who have souls that while demonic are no less valid in their existence then any human one is integral to keeping the machine working and keeping your young emotionally/mentally vulnerable weapon from having a nervous breakdown because she just you know, massacred a whole bunch of people. fangy people, but people none the less.

btvs and the watcher council mentality the main btvs cast is tainted by is incredibly human centric, watch even a little of ats and it becomes glaringly obvious. ats is extremely flawed but one of it's strongest points was letting us see the expanded world of demons and non-human culture. the issue is then that buffy and co come off as rabid human-centrists because of how they talk about vampires and demons as a whole. there's a reason tara didn't want them to know she was half demon when she thought that line was true. the scoobies spout anti-demon rhetoric like it's their jobs. the way they treat anya is horrendous and it's because she has the Taint of demon and neurodivergence coding (which is a whole different kettle so).

the continued talk about spike like he's a subhuman while he's either at their mercy or on their side is galling. you cannot be called the good guys and then treat other sentient creatures like animals and vermin to be killed or mocked for your amusement. full stop. you cannot claim a moral high ground and behave like this which is what the scoobies consistently claim. they believe they are in the moral right and have the moral high ground consistently. when in reality they are pretty fucked up and have done repugnant immoral shit multiple times (hello all the various scoobie caused invasions of personal autonomy!). you can be a protagonist and have uh... Dodgey Morals™ (ex. the punisher) but when you claim you are better because you have better morals but also refuse to see the other side as even worthy of being seen as a truly living creature with like feelings and shit now i'm treating you with contempt.

there are people who will say that buffy was the sole victim of the toxicity that is s6 spuffy but if you believe that you also are tacitly agreeing that her belief that spike is an "it", an animal with no bodily autonomy to respect or feelings to hurt or be manipulated is true. and why? because he's a vampire? he has a soul, a demonic soul. he literally would not exist if a metaphysical entity/force hadn't entered william pratt's fucking corpse and make it theirs. this is an inherently repugnant act and even if we all sit down and agree she did nothing else to contribute to this toxicity she still looked another sentient being who she knew had some kind of feelings for her, used his want and his desperation to abuse herself with and spent the entire time considering him as something between cattle and a lamp. i'm sorry but that's wildly fucked up at it's core and if you can't see that i worry for you.

what if she was dating a nice half-bracken guy and she did all that shit to him? if he tried to stop her from turning herself in for a crime she didn't commit and then beat him bloody and called him an it, a thing, not a person, not real? are you still okay with that because he's a demon? are humans the only species in your eyes with the right to personhood in this universe? do you, like buffy and co, prefer to take the words of a group known to manipulate everything and who treat girls like buffy as things themselves over the evidence you see before your eyes on screen and the actions and words of the demons themselves? buffy's actions towards spike from s4 to s6 are repugnant because they're no longer enemies and she's no longer the council's attack dog but she still refuses to give him the basic decency of personhood.

and you can get into all kinds about shit about how vampires are evil and he's done terrible things and i will not respect you for using any of that to try and say it's okay to treat someone who you relay on or are in any kind of relationship with like they're a thing. otherization and depersonification are tools used to make it "okay" to commit atrocities. for every spike who you say it's "okay" to treat like an animal, there's a harmony who isn't really all that bad and happily switches to bagged blood and integrates pretty peacefully into human society when given the chance. and she will get put right next to spike as an animal to be killed because she doesn't matter. using his past actions to deny him the right of personhood is a lazy tactic to divert the discussion and absolve buffy and co of moral failings.

the nazis are also evil, but i will not deny they are people. doesn't mean i wouldn't take the shot if i had one if i was put in that position. it just means i acknowledge i ended a life that probably meant something to someone. and that's my issue with buffy and co. that's my issue with "vampires are soulless" and buffy's treatment of spike in s6 and how people talk about it. regardless of literally anything else either of them did, denying another sentient being the right to be acknowledged as one while still demanding things from them is inherently a core repugnant act. she is willing to use his feelings and body for her advantage but also refuses to respect them as real and just as valid as hers. again, how would you feel if she treated lorne like this? if she demanded things of him but didn't respect his basic right to be seen as a valid sentient being just like her?

in btvs vampires have souls, demons have souls, and they all deserve the basic decency to have that acknowledged. even by the slayer. especially by the slayer frankly since she is also in her own way One Of Them and if she's going to hunt them down and kill them she can at least acknowledge that she ended a life and didn't just flip an off switch. if you can't get with this whole concept of the validity of non-human life in a universe where the MCs humanity is frequently questioned and the Other and Otherism is frequently a theme then i really am not interested in talking to you.

#meta #gOD THIS IS SO MUCH LONGER THAN I'D PLANNED #but i have VERY strong feelings about this #vampires have souls argue with the wall #no cut we die like men

[silvershiningtarot]

🌸Pac 18+ What’s the meaning of this connection Between You & Your FS (Short)

🔋Take a deep breath, and remember this is a general reading. I hope this reading gives you clarity. Enjoy it.🌸🌸❤️💋All love and positive vibes surrounding you guys, and this general reading as well. 🌸🌸😋❤️💋

Pile 1: Oh, the meaning of this connection between you and your FS. It's a major sacred support. It seems like some of you will have a false twin, they are an imposter. Energetic vampires, chaotic, drama, and a shadow portal. I think that some of you might stay away from this person. I don't sense that bad from them though. They'll say that you get them and vice-versa. Like I said I don't sense bad from this false twin maybe they aren't meant to be a romantic relationship between you and them. That's what I'm feeling. It seems like this connection means that you guys will be best pals, and have such good chemistry together. Long talks, vibing, and needing each other. You two will have such mutual respect. A few of you will be the best of friends. That's why I'm getting friendship vibes. For some of you yes this is a false twin because it wasn't supposed to be a romantic relationship. Don't be disappointed about it. Because you'll have such a good friendship with them. Us vs Us. You two will have inside drama, so they'll get on your nerves. A lot of triggers will happen with them. You'll bring out the good and bad. Space is necessary. They'll think that you're so stunning to them. They'll be starstruck. So the meaning of this connection is divinely guided it is protected by y'all spirit guides. Y'all have an unbreakable connection. To be real I like this connection between you and them. Maybe you or they might beatbox or Chop. They might go to therapy for their disorder. Again I told you they will annoy the shit out of you and vice-versa. But the meaning of this connection is very powerful to me.

Pile 2: Off the back, you two are Starcross lovers. Do you know what movie I’m seeing Titanic? Titanic! I love that movie like some of you are like Rose and your husband is like Jack. The ones who hold themselves back. That's so funny that what card came out. So it seems like you'll be the one who runs away from this beautiful connection. Because you think that this connection between you and them could be true. You'll think it's not real or feel like you are delusional. But you aren't. Even spirits say “This Is Real”. So believe it! Are you going to trust it? Anyways this means that you and your FS are a soul and star family. It meant to come down here in the 3D. Activation!!! This means that they'll respect the shit out of you. Admiration, worship, and loves you, and be your biggest fan and supporter. This is amazing. See! You will have your inside drama between you and him. I feel it is a very intense fight you two will have. But it won't get toxic to where breaking up. Again space is necessary. This means that this connection between you and them will turn into an engagement 💍. So you'll marry them. I believe after your walls are down. Oh so here's the issue ex will try to come between you and them. But I don't feel it for long though. Come on! Your FS worships the fuck out of you. You are their Zing. This reminds me of the movie Hotel Transylvania. When Johnny and Mavis Zing for the first time. It seems like this type of connection. See! I was right about those intense fights. When you and your FS argue that shit will cause a lot of fire 🔥. Again I don't feel toxic but I do feel like you two especially have to watch your mouth 👄.

Pile 3: The meaning of this connection between you and your FS is that you'll be addicted to that dick! Ayo!!! Haha 💰😂you’ll be very addicted to that dick. Eat it up. Some of you will be submissive to them, and possessive. Woah this is an interesting pile. So they're your mentor. Your spouse is your mentor they are meant to help you. Ahhh!! I'm screaming 🙀🎱. This connection between you and them is meant to be manifest. It is happening now. It is like a blessing from the sky. You two will cross the finish line and success, and fulfillment. Oh, this is good. They already sending you messages in dreams, giving you signs, and online. Don't ignore the signs. A lot of grief will happen. So much transformation for the two of you. Sadness, pain, depression, and loss. I think your FS will be there for you. Yes, you two will fucking fight but help each other with it. This is your last life with them. Separate souls are only meant to be in the 5D. So they were meant to be your spirit guide just to watch over you. That's why they are your mentor. Hmm, it seems like a lot of mistrust maybe you are scared about this engagement 💍. Multiple attraction!! Oh, you'll have a lot of men and women on you heavily. A lot of old feelings will come up. I don't know what that feeling is but I heard it is worth it. Some of you will marry your Mentor or you'll be engaged to them.

Pile 3: Oh snap, In the beginning, it was like lust I don't care to use that word. So I would say a fling. I swear it is passion between you and your FS. I can that you guys having a lot of sex. This reminds me of the movie Sugar and Spice if you guys ever watch that movie. With Diane and Jack Bartlett. That's exactly how I see it. It won't be serious in the beginning, because again it is like a fling. But you are manifest it comes into fruition. It is happening now. This might be the last life with them. Awe 😭I’m sorry but again don’t be disappointed because it will be worth it. See! Flirting, teasing, and passion. Goddamnnn!!! A lot of sex. I'm not surprised they have a breeding kink. They'll throw your ass against the wall and start kissing you hard. Biting lips 💋🕯. I do sense a romantic side they would want to show you but it seems like they are a little scared. They'll be your 1st. First kiss, relationship, and your first time. You'll be giving your precious fruit to them✨. Haha 😂didn’t I say this? Passionate kisses, intense sex energy, and partying together. Oh my goodness, you two will be partying hard together. They'll be fighting for your attention like crazy!!! I mean fighting to it. I can see that. That's incredible. The meaning of this connection between you and your FS is very important. In the beginning, it starts as your little crush fling, and then a relationship, and now as fiancè. Do you see the pattern? This is the meaning of y'all connection together.

Reblog, and Comment on what you think of this reading. Check out my profile page!! Enjoy this reading. I hope it gives you clarity and remember it's a general reading. 💋💋✨❤️❤️🌸.

#pac reading #tarot reading #free tarot reading #fs pick a pile #tarot cards #intuitive readings #divination readings #pac reblog #love reading #pick a pile #paid readings #future spouse #tarot community #tarot sale #free readings #tarotblr #pac tarot #pick a card #welcome post #taroteverydamnday #18+ only #adult only #only adult

[canyourfavesurvivecastledracula]

Would Bambi survive Castle Dracula?

Inside the Castle there's no growth or underbrush for Bambi to hide in, so it's as dangerous and exposed as the Meadow but with like. Stairs. Bambi also has no fingers or toes, which Jonathan's account makes clear are vitally necessary for getting down the wall.

On the other hand, Bambi is probably safe from the Girlies, as vampires only drink human blood. Actually now that I think about it, the novel doesn't actually say that, does it? But it can perhaps be inferred from the identity drawn between blood and soul - the vampire consumes more than calories, it's feeding off of soul and life essence. So vampires drink exclusively human blood because animals don't have souls.

.......ACTUALLY though, while Bambi is a perfectly ordinary deer in every respect, one could argue that in Disney animated movies animals do have souls. How else could Mufasa appear to Simba in the clouds? While the Bambi cast is as minimally anthropomorphized as possible, they are still personified to an extent where it might be appropriate to understand them as ensoulled beings. And if Bambi has a soul, maybe a vampire would want to eat him.

But most likely he's there as enrichment for the wolves. And I think if Dracula opens that door he's bolting through it, wolves or no. Now at that point it should be early summer, so there's a bit of advantage to Bambi in that there should be plenty of vegetation to hide in.

...but honestly I still think the wolves get him. Especially if he's old enough to have lost the camouflage of his dappled faun coat.

So no, Bambi can not survive Castle Dracula any more than he can survive Godzilla

#bambi #animals #cartoons

[ckret2]

Chapter 18 of Mabel has made the questionable decision to befriend human Bill (real title TBD), and the first chapter with an actual title!

After the emotional rollercoaster of the last chapter, this one's pretty lighthearted. Featuring: food poisoning, anti-intellectualist propaganda, ritual sacrifice, arson, burns, injury, cannibalism, and children almost dying. And friendship!

####

One of the things that came with immortality—mature, cosmic-scale immortality, not baby immortality like you found in vampires with a few measly centuries under their belts—was an expertise at meditation.

And it had nothing to do with being particularly wise, or serene, or enlightened (although Bill would argue he himself happened to be all those things). Even the most rambunctious, cantankerous, petty, spiteful, impatient, silly immortal in the multiverse could drop into a thoughtless trance deeper than the Mariana Trench with nothing but five seconds' notice that he had some time to kill and there was nothing interesting on TV. 

Most mortals struggled with this idea, the same way fish struggled to understand how it was so easy for land mammals to hold their breath underwater. They didn't understand that it was a necessary survival skill.

Some millennia were boring. "You've had every conversation you can imagine with every person you know, you won't see a fresh planet for an eon, you're floating in the void of space, and your only company is the glitter thrown off of dead stars" boring. So boring the only way to get through them was by holding your breath until they were over. And in those times, the only way to endure the soul-crushing mind-shredding suicide-inducing boredom of those long, slow, dull millennia was knowing how to productively dissociate for the next five thousand years without so much as needing a snack break.

Bill was very old. Bill was very good at meditating.

It wasn't doing him a bit of good.

He'd lost count of how many hours he'd spent meditating since his capture: sitting in the dark, legs crossed, hands on his knees, eyes shut, trying—trying—trying to do anything. Trying to astral project out of this prison. Trying to see into the mindscape. Trying to connect to the countless windows through which he could see all over Earth. 

Trying to feel the vast stores of pure energy that made up the core of his being.

He couldn't feel it.

And he was not terrified, he wasn't he wasn't he wasn't.

Surely the Axolotl hadn't taken that energy away—that would be infinitely cruel—but he'd done an amazing job of sealing it away. Bill was psychically dead when he was awake, helpless prisoner when he was dreaming. Here he'd thought the Ax was gonna help him avoid punishment.

Well, what do you do when you're in a cage and you aren't strong enough to break the bars? You pick the lock. Where could Bill find a psychic lock pick?

Someone knocked on the bathroom's doorframe. "Hey Bill?"

He snapped out of his futile meditative state. "Yeah?"

"Are you using the toilet or just lurking creepily?"

"Lurking creepily!"

Mabel pulled aside the curtain and turned on the light. "Do you wanna help me make a video on—"

"More than anything." Bill got to his feet and—ow—cracked his sore back. Meditating could keep you sane when you were in the deepest depths of sensory-deprivation boredom, but it didn't actually offer you any entertainment. Mabel, on the other hand, did.

He'd find a lock pick later. Something would come up. It always did.

####

The weaving camera only revealed a blurry patch of carpet and upholstery back before it managed to focus on its target: half a hot dog lying between the back of the sofa and the living room wall. "There it is!" Mabel said. "I knew I smelled something in here."

"Wow, look at the colors on this thing! The green splotches kinda look like tie-dye," Bill said. "Hey, nobody's had hot dogs since you locked me up, have they?" There was a moment of silence as they tried to figure out how long that hot dog had lain, cold and forgotten, behind the couch.

Then the camera jostled as Mabel tried to reach past it to the food. "I'm gonna eat it."

"I'm gonna eat it."

"Hey!"

Bill's arm stretched past Mabel's, snatched up the hot dog, and disappeared. 

"Biiill! I wanted to try it!"

"No way, it's mine now! You snooze, you lose, kid!"

Mabel whipped the camera around to focus on Bill's grinning face as he inspected his prize. "Hey, this thing's growing mushrooms! It's provided its own condiments!" He held Mabel back at arm's length as he shoved the hotdog in his mouth, chewed quickly, and swallowed.

"Jerk," Mabel said. "How did it taste?"

Bill looked thoughtful. "Kinda sour and vinegary," he said. "Probably from the mold."

"Gross! Do you think it was safe to eat?"

Cheerfully, Bill said, "We'll know in a few hours, won't we?"

####

Mabel sat outside the downstairs bathroom with the camera turned toward the curtained doorway. A radio on the floor playing a Sev'ral Timez song unsuccessfully drowned out the sound of Bill heaving into the toilet.

One trembling arm reached out of the bathroom toward the radio. Bill croaked, "You're my only proof that time is still passing." He feebly patted the radio. "Tell me the universe keeps moving forward. Songs play. Moments end. I'll be free again." He made a choking noise and the arm quickly withdrew.

Mabel turned the camera toward herself. "And that concludes Mabel's Guide to Indoor Foraging! Tune in next time for... I don't know, how about animals?"

Bill replied with a deathly wheeze as he inverted his stomach.

"Animals it is!"

####

Mabel's Guide to Animals

####

The camera opened on a shot of the living room sofa, where Bill sat cross-legged and grinning next to a large easel pad. The first page of the pad was covered in drawings of cute animal faces, birds, fish, and (closer to Bill's side) skulls, lightning, and triangles.

From behind the camera, Mabel said, "Welcome to Mabel's Guide to Local Animals—"

"I'm helping," Bill said.

"—featuring Bill Cipher as my cohost!"

"That's me!"

"Yes it is. Lots of different systems have been proposed to help categorize animals—"

"These are called 'taxonomies,'" Bill said.

"—but together, we've picked out some of the best, most useful ways to categorize the animals of Gravity Falls. Such as: size!"

Bill flipped the first page of the easel pad, revealing a page covered in drawings of a couple dozen creatures ranked in size from mosquito up to lake whale.

"Color!"

Bill revealed a page with animals arranged in rainbow order. (Several of the overwhelmingly brown population had been circled in various hues of blue, purple, green, and pink, as Bill made mental notes to himself on how he'd recolor some of Gravity Fall's more visually boring creatures. Mabel had stuck star stickers beside the ideas she liked the best.)

"Friendliness!"

Another flip, and four columns capped by faces ranging in emotion from smiley to angry. The angry column was very long, but several creatures had been scratched out and hopefully moved to the sorta-smiley column.

"How good they taste!"

Bill turned another page to reveal a list of animals ranked by flavor, and said, "And a very important follow-up..." He turned another page to reveal one titled "How Many Times You Can Survive Eating It." There was a lot of overlap between the previous page's "Delicious!" column and this one's "Only Once" column.

"Super important," Mabel agreed.

Bill said, "You can also sort animals by..." Flip. "Quantity of bones!" Bill's handwriting utterly filled the page. It was unnervingly thorough. He'd listed "humans," "human babies," and "toothless humans" as three separate species.

Flip. "Planet of origin!" There were twelve different headings, only one of which was in English. One heading titled "?????" simply had a doodle of Bill underneath.

Flip, revealing a pie chart. "Percentage of known timelines in which a species has conquered the Earth!" Bill pointed at a slice that took up almost a quarter of the chart. "Humans are in the lead!"

"Yes!" The camera jiggled as Mabel pumped her fist in the air. "USA! USA!" Her chanting petered out. "Hey—what's that bit next to it—?"

"Don't worry about it." Bill smacked his hand over the pie sliver labeled "Bill" and quickly turned the page.

Mabel said, "Anyway, after several rounds of rigorous scientific debate, we've determined the most efficient and useful way to categorize the various creatures in Gravity Falls: the Fuzziness Scale!"

Bill gestured proudly at the heading on the final page, and then pointed at each category as Mabel listed them off.

"Starting with hard animals—"

Bill said, "Such as turtles and rocks."

"—then crunchy ones—"

"Roly-polies, ants, and baby turtles."

"—then smooth and firm—"

"Snakes and fish."

"—smooth and squishy—"

"Slugs, pigs, and Soos."

"—part fluffy, part bald—"

"Humans and winged snakes."

"—regular fluffy—

"Cats, dogs, and bears."

"—extra fluffy—"

"Alpacas and baby chicks."

"—and super deluxe MAXIMUM fluffy!"

"Tarantulas!"

Mabel said, "Our primary goal is to offer the scientific community a new, more accessible taxonomy that everybody can enjoy!"

Bill said, "And our secondary goal is to remind humanity of the inherent futility and cruelty of categorization! Reject boxes, embrace irregularity, and destroy the tenuous connections between concepts and synapses that you call 'knowledge'!" He pointed directly at the camera. "Return to the times of Icarus when humans could fly because no one had taught them they couldn't! Raze your universities, turn your libraries into origami, and execute your teachers as witches! Burn it all down!"

"Burn it down!" Mabel cheered. "Burn it DOWN, burn it DOWN—"

####

From atop the kitchen table, the camera recorded the stove, upon which the easel pad lay engulfed in flames. Mabel and Bill watched the mini-inferno silently.

Mabel turned to Bill. "I'm gonna get some sticks so we can roast marshmallows."

"Good idea. I'll watch the fire and not make it worse."

Mabel shot him a skeptical look.

"I promise."

"I'm holding you to that!" Mabel jogged from the room.

Bill glanced out the kitchen doorway to make sure she was gone, turned toward the stove, and slowly, ever so slowly, stuck one finger into the flames. "A—"

####

Mabel smiled at the camera. "Welcome back! My co-host has been banned from the rest of this episode so he can reflect on his behavior."

Behind her, Bill, one hand bandaged and face covered by a paper bag that read "PLAYED WITH FIRE," said, "It was worth it!" He'd persuaded Mabel to draw his triangle face over the text.

"So, now that you know several ways to categorize the creatures of Gravity Falls, you can go meet them! And hopefully befriend them!" Mabel said. "Now, meeting animals is difficult, but there's several ways you can make it easier! Such as fishing, going to a petting zoo, sneaking into your friends' homes to talk to their pets, disguising yourself as an animal—"

Bill threw in, "Using a spell to summon them."

"Using a spell to su— Doing what?" Mabel stared at him. "Do you know a spell to summon animals?"

"Oh yeah, it's easy!"

"What kinds of animals."

"Any animals in hearing range," he said.

Mabel gasped. "Can you teach me?!"

"Sure! It's easy. You've gotta be a girl, put on the fanciest dress you own, stand somewhere in the open, sing a song—"

"What song?"

"You make it up on the spot. It's one of those 'sing from your heart' deals."

"Oooh, Mabel likey."

"The most important part is keeping your mind focused as you sacrifice a..." Bill hesitated, glancing toward the camera, and said, "Well, the whole world doesn't need to know this trick, do they?" He covered the camera lens with his hand, and the screen went black.

####

Bill shot from the attic window as Mabel stood on the picnic table in a frilly lime green dress and a dozen multicolor bead necklaces and held up a cardboard sign for the camera that read, "Summoning animals with magic: ATTEMPT ONE!" She gave Bill a thumbs up. Visible from the edge of the camera's shot, Bill gave one back.

She tossed the sign aside, turned toward the trees around the shack, and started singing into a megaphone loudly enough that the camera faintly picked it up: "My name is Mabel, queen of the animals! I want all creatures to be my pals! La-la-la—um—la-la, la—be my best friends foreveeer!"

"Hey, she's not bad at this," Bill muttered. "Even got a rhyme in." He panned the camera around the scene as squirrels, rabbits, gnomes, and other small critters curiously emerged from the tree line. A couple of deer watched thoughtfully.

"To animals everywhere, small and huge—come to me and I'll give you a hug—aaAAAH!" Mabel jerked up the hem of her skirt and hopped from foot to foot. "Bugs, that's so many bugs! Ack!" She shakily resumed singing, "Um—The queen of the animals is friends with bugs too... but it'd be cool if you didn't... climb on my shoe...?" She started. "YEEK!"

The camera wiggled as Bill flinched. "Oh, uh-oh, M—Mabel, watch out—!" He banged on the window. Mabel evidently didn't hear. Under his breath, he muttered a word not designed for human tongues but that probably should have warranted washing his mouth out with soap. And then a giant hand with fingers like tree trunks reached from the woods and snatched up Mabel.

The world blurred and bounced past the camera as Bill tore across the attic, screaming, "WHATCHERNAME-MABEL'S-BROTHER YOUR SISTER'S GETTING STOLEN IT'S NOT MY FAULT—"

####

Bill aimed the camera through the tiny window in the front door to watch as Dipper and Mabel limped back to the shack—weary, dirty, clothing torn, sticks and leaves in their hair, arms slung over each other for support. Bill stepped back as they opened the door. Brightly, he said, "Hi, kids! Have fun?"

Dipper gave him a murderous look. Exhausted, Mabel looked at the camera and said, "This has been Mabel's guide to... how not to befriend the local animals." She slithered out of Dipper's grip and lay on the floor. "I'm gonna take a nap here."

Dipper looked tiredly at Mabel, then glared again at Bill, then just sighed and muttered, "Bill, take that stupid bag off." He trudge up the stairs. "This is all your fault."

"Is not!" Bill called; but the camera picked up his quiet chuckle.

The view dropped to the floor as Bill decided his amateur cameraman duties had been completed, recording his feet as he walked into the kitchen to leave the camera on a counter. He didn't turn it off.

It caught the scene through the kitchen doorway as Bill tossed his paper bag mask aside and surveyed Mabel on the floor, hands on his hips. He crouched in front of her and loudly whispered, "Hey. Shooting Star. Can you hear me?"

She didn't respond.

"Out like a light," Bill murmured. He studied her face; and then gently placed a fingertip on her forehead. The camera recorded his lips moving as he murmured, too quietly to pick up: videntis omnium, magister mentium...

He finished his chant. Nothing of any note happened. Bill frowned, stood, and sighed.

And then, after a moment of shifting his weight as though debating what to do next, he knelt back down, awkwardly picked Mabel up, and carried her upstairs. He paused cautiously on each stair step to ensure he didn't trip. A few minutes later, the camera watched him stumble back downstairs, trudge into the living room, and turn on the TV.

Half an hour later, Waddles wandered into the entryway and Bill went into the kitchen, came back with a stick of dry chorizo, ripped off chunks with his fingernails, and tossed them to Waddles while singing a song he'd made up about cannibalism. And then he returned to the living room and Waddles wandered upstairs.

Nothing else of interest happened. The camera kept on recording, forgotten, until the battery died.

####

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #mabel pines #gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #gravity falls fic #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

[sailorblossoms]

although I'm 100% on board the unlabeled Simon Snow train, I've been feeling compelled to make the case for why aspec/demisexual Simon resonates:

-Dating a girl was, besides following traditional roles, his attempt at “normalcy.” He didn’t have any romantic or sexual feelings for her, nor was he invested in the relationship in that way.

-He occasionally notes girls being "cute" and "beautiful" and guys being "fit" but this information doesn't really do anything for him. Being able to note "eye-candy" without experiencing attraction is a common aspec experience

-His reaction to boobs doesn't really go beyond a passing "very nice, not mad about seeing them", and this is brought up in the same line of thought as "I don't know if I was ever attracted to women", which is a way of questioning that kinda leans on a negative answer. See previous point.

-Baz remembers surviving sharing a room with Simon with “furious wanking” (just your typical angsty teenage vampire), having wanted to “kiss one of Simon’s moles since he was 12,” and wanting him “since he knew how to want” (“erotic gropfest” fantasies). While he only has eyes for Simon (a true romantic) it also seems like experiencing attraction and hitting puberty came hand in hand for good ol’ Baz. Though Simon is just as drawn to him (he thinks about him all the time, he’s always looking at him, smelling him; sharing a room with him was just like “sharing it with a siren”) getting there apparently went hand in hand with developing feelings that could be considered as "creating a bond," even though there was distance between them (he's not home until he's smelling Baz in their shared room -> Baz is home).

-It can be argued that 5th year was the year Simon started experiencing attraction. This is when he remembers wanting to jump Baz (though he didn’t understand why then), following him everywhere (by his own admission, he didn’t need to do this to prove Baz’s a vampire, he already knew), pointing him with his sword (ha) etc. By the time he kisses Baz, he already has a list of things he wants to do to him, including kissing him on the lips! Meaning he became attracted to someone he knows (he has observed his soul), someone who’s always on his mind, someone he wants to know everything about because he yearns to be close to him, closer than anyone else.

-It took him until he became more comfortable with being attracted to Baz and being sure he absolutely wanted to have sex with him to begin to understand how attraction actually feels. Before that, he assumed thinking someone is pretty probably meant he was attracted, which he later figures out isn't the case for him (when realizing in hindsight his lack of attraction to Agatha).

-He talks about sex in his straight relationship as a pain, or a chore he wasn’t into at best, and remembering it puts him in distress that leads to self-harm at worst (kicking walls, pulling hair, etc.) (As a fellow curly-haired person let me tell y'all: that’s no small amount of pain lol)

-In his own words, Baz is the only person he has ever wanted. Period. He's the only person he's 100% sure he's attracted to. "Nothing compares" to him.

-"Am I gay, or am I some kind of Baz-sexual. Is that a thing". It is, but we don't call it like that lol

-Simon thinking he might be gay has everything to with his attraction to Baz, and only Baz. Him noting other men being fit is in passing with no effect on him (again, refer to point 2) or to mark them as a threat/competition (Lamb).

-Simon's main point for rejecting bisexuality is him understanding his relationship with Agatha was completely void of sexual attraction and romance. He had first hand experience here trying to do what people do when they feel attraction, but he wasn't feeling it. The first time he talks about this relationship in CO, he says he was always going along with what he thought she wanted (as opposed to doing shit because he wanted it) and was always "getting it wrong".

-With strangers though? Is he attracted? Hell if he knows! I’d say he isn’t. Relevant here is Simon assuming that being able to tell when people are pretty means attraction ("assuming" as in not even thinking about it because "that's just how it is") and how he later starts figuring out that’s not the case with him.

-Simon feels like an idiot because Baz didn’t need to date or try anything to know he’s gay, while Simon has no idea of what can fit him, he only knows that he wants Baz (while also having a knee-jerk reaction to deny when someone wants to confirm him as either gay or bi, although we see he's not completely closed off to gay). Some of it it’s Simon’s anxieties and fears, but also relevant here is that this sort of confusion, and figuring out yourself later in life isn’t uncommon for acespec folks

-In other words: his attraction to Baz seems to increase or rather, to be more understandable, the closer they get (“he can’t get enough of him” he says when they start being intimate. He gets “so turned on he can’t think” when he finally has him naked).

-There's plenty supporting Simon's attraction to Baz: he wakes up aroused by his smell, he gets all hot and bothered just by Baz looking at him a certain way, he think it's "dead sexy" when Baz takes off his shirt and reveals his wand holder, Baz fighting has him jumping him in public because is just "so hot, he's so hot". No one else had this effect on him, not even close, even when he notices them "being fit"

-When Simon is dry-humping Baz (you read that right) in the Watford library, he laments not having been Baz's friend instead of enemies during their time at school, and not having kissed him in every possible corner (they had a private room together!!) in the same breath. Acting on his attraction to Baz and wanting to have an emotional bond with him even earlier than when it happened are tied together here.

This is not to say Simon needs to pick up a label, it's perfectly fine if he never feels the need to identify as anything. Labels are personal, and can be helpful in understanding ourselves, but not always. I'm only bringing this up here because it feels helpful in understanding Simon better (saying he's extremely oblivious and calling it a day feels like a disservice, there's a lot more going on with him!) even if he remains unlabeled. If you vibe with this feel free to add to this post

#simon snow #unlabeled simon rights! #but also a demi hc simon if you will #for science #for the literature #snowbaz #baz pitch #baz x simon #carry on #simon snow trilogy #baz grimm pitch #awtwb #wayward son

[dilucsflame33]

Can You Do A Vampire Donnie x F!Reader But In Bayverse And With Prompts And Can You Do A Lemon/Smut For It Too

58. Turtle bedroom 132. “Argue all you want, we both know you belong to me.” 74. “Just relax.” 5. “MINE.” 96. Making out 151. “Do you know how a turtle takes his mate?” 89. Mating season 142. “Bite me.” 123. “Don’t hold back.” 79. “Lay back and let me take care of you.” also with 32. “Do you trust me?” and Turning into a vampire

Blood Moon Odyssey 🔥

Hello, @ashleighclark98 ^^ Thank you so much for being my first ask, and you are the first who have ordered from my "TMNT Trick or Kink: Bloody Mary"! I hope this is to your liking. ;)

I end up changing the sentence on 132, so I hope it's okay! ^^

🔞 Warning 🔞 NFSW 18+ Only

Blood, mating/breeding, hair pulling, and feral Donnie.

Running was all Donnie could do; jumping from building to building as he continuously ran for his life. It was the first Lunar eclipse of the year, which happens three times a year. But why was this one non-stop? And why does it look a deeper shade of red? It was supposed to last only for an hour and twenty-five minutes on the dot! 

Donnie was on patrol like usual. Leo separated them so they could have more eyes in the area. Three days ago, people went missing anonymously. All that was left was witnesses heard screams in abandoned alleyways and seen blood red eyes staring at them. Fangs glisten under the blood moon. Soon after, that person took the victims away. 

Chief Vincent asked the guys if they could help with the case and they agreed. 

But Donnie thought it was some man dressed up as some vampire to scare the witnesses away. 

Donnie was dead wrong for once. 

He was standing on top of an abandoned building, a place where there's hardly any activity. The purple turtle found it strange when a "vampire" goes to places that have less of a food source, until he went deep into his thoughts.

"We are close to the outskirts of New York, no human activity. If I was a vampire, what would I do?" Donnie said aloud, mostly to himself. But he didn't expect someone to answer back.

"Looks like you have found my nest, young one." A deep, guttural voice spoke into his ear and the nerd screeched. Donnie quickly stood a few feet from him, with staff in hand, ready to take on the master mind. "In all my years, I have never encountered such a creature. What's your name?" 

"Like I will tell you." Donnie says as he goes into his battle stance. "And how did you get here so fast?"

The man chuckled, his blonde hair blew in the wind. And that's when Donnie saw them, the fangs. "I think you already knew how I got here, but that's not important now is it?"

Donnie stared him down, hazel eyes burned with determination as his heart slowly picked up its pace. The man in front of him smirked as he crossed his arms, almost aristocratic. "The name is William. Even if you look through the files at NYPD, you won't be able to find my identity. Sadly, the case will come to a close.

"You know," William continued. "You have a beautiful woman by your side, Donatello. It breaks my heart knowing she will never know your true feelings."

Donnie went pale and his heart rate went up tenfold. How does he know about Y/N? He just met the guy and William knew about the woman who has been haunting his mind and dreams. 

William suddenly chuckled deeply, almost sinister as he went into a full blown laughter. "Oh, how I love the look on your face. The fear behind your eyes." Then, his red eyes gleamed. "You will be a perfect fit for my army." 

Army?! 

Oh, heck no!

Splinter taught him to never run from a fight but with actual humans and mutants, not immortal vampires! So Donnie ran and the last thing he heard was terrifying laughter that pierced his soul as it would soon haunt his dreams.

Donnie jumped once more as he hid behind a dark wall, breathing erratically as he tried catching his breath. He's been running for God knows how long. Like it's a never ending chase. Wherever he lands, William was there. Donnie doesn't know if he was playing mind tricks on him. If William can read his mind, what else could he do?

Donnie pressed the walkie-talkie on his shoulder. "Leo? Are you there?"

"Donnie? What's going on?" Leo's voice was heard through the speaker as the leader heard his brother's erratic breathing. Something was wrong.

"I-I found the guy, Leo! William was his name. You positioned me on top of his nest and now he wants to recruit me in his undead army!" Donnie's voice screeched once more as he suddenly felt tears coming to his eyes. He hates crying, but his fear was taking control over him. He needs to keep it together. He has unfinished business. "Leo, I'm scared. He knows about Y/N and I haven't mentioned anything about her. Please, brother, I need you."

"Okay, Don, just hang in there. We're on our way!" Leo's voice turned more serious as he heard Donnie say 'brother'. He only says it when he's absolutely terrified. 

"Yeah, he'll get a rude awakenin' when he messes with us." Raph's voice transferred to the speaker. Donnie pressed the button on the walkie-talkie to answer. 

"I would love to see you try, Raphael." 

Donnie spun around and there was William. The turtle didn't have enough time to react as the vampire came in front of him and sank his teeth into his neck. 

Donnie's screams uttered through the speaker as William makes sure his brothers can hear what he's doing to their brother. 

With enough strength he had left, Donnie pushed William away and he felt suddenly hot. His neck was burning and he clutched at his neck to try to stop the blood from flowing. 

Donnie could hear his brothers screaming for him but his vision was suddenly blurry as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, soon collapsing on the concrete floor. 

William chuckled as he saw Donatello's unconscious state. "Enjoy your new life, Donatello. Let your emotions run wild." 

Thirty minutes had passed and Y/N was running to the sewers. Leo called her, saying Donnie was attacked and needed some medical assistance. He needs to get back out there to find a guy named "William" that hurt his brother in the first place.

"Hang on, Leo. I'm on my way!" Y/N said through the phone as she picked up her pace. 

When she entered the lair, the turtles were a nervous wreck. Mikey was on the floor, staring at the lab/Donnie's bedroom. Raph was pacing back and forth, angry that he wasn't there to protect his brother. Leo was nowhere to be found, probably in the lab where Donnie was located. 

Y/N headed towards the lab and opened the doors. The sight she saw broke her heart. Splinter and Leo sat in chairs as they kept an eye on Donnie. The purple clad turtle was on a lab table, eyes closed, and completely pale as the woman noticed bandages on his neck. 

Leo looked up and sighed in relief. "Thank goodness. Donnie lost a lot of blood and we don't know how to do a transfer.

"Leave that to me." Y/N said as she went to wash her hands in the sink and soon put on some medical gloves. "Good thing I have a degree in nursing. Otherwise, we're all screwed." 

"Thank you, Y/N. I am thankful to have you here." Splinter says as he watches the young woman get to work. Y/N walked towards Donnie and she slowly removed the bandage, wincing as she looked at the damage. 

"Whoever this 'William' was, he knew what he was doing. He got the Carotid artery. It's the main artery that transfers blood to the brain. If punctured, you need to add pressure immediately. Otherwise, the patient will pass out due to lack of blood in the brain."

"We found him before we called you, so he's passed out for at least thirty minutes." Leo explained as Y/N looked through the cabinets. 

"Okay, yeah. He needs blood quickly. That wound is deep, even as a mutant it will take its toll. Knowing Donnie, he probably hasn't eaten or drunk any water. So his sugar has dropped and his blood is too thick. Before you give blood, you need to eat at least thirty minutes or more and drink plenty of water. If not, then you will pass out. Iron is the key, plenty of protein."

Even though Leo and Splinter had no idea what she said, all they heard was protein. "So he needs blood that has protein?"

"Yes. The protein can either be from meat or from protein bars." Y/N set up an IV to keep Donnie's body hydrated. "If any of you have a good protein diet and drink plenty of water, that will be great." 

Leo sighed. "Guess I'm up-"

"Let me do it." Raph came in as he heard the conversation. "I have a good diet. May not look like it but looks can be deceiving."

Y/N looked towards Raph. "You do realize how much blood you're gonna give, right? Just calculating the time it happened and when I got here, plus his height and weight, he needed at least two human bags of blood or more. You won't be able to go with Leo or Mikey out there if you do this." 

Raph clenched his fist. "I'll do whatever it takes to save my brother. I couldn't save him then, but I can now. Give me something for adrenaline. Hook me up." He huffed.

"Yes, sir." Y/N winced but got to work once again and grabbed the supplies she needed. Sometimes she has to remember she's working on mutants and not actual humans.

Hopefully Raphael will be okay.

"Leo, grab your brother a jug of water and some protein bars. He needs them."

"On it." Leo quickly ran out of the lab and started to retrieve the items the woman requested. Usually it was Leo taking charge but if it's anything medical, he's done for. He doesn't mind letting someone take the reins just this once.

He just hopes that Donnie will be okay.

After hooking Donnie up to an IV and starting a blood transfusion, everything was now a waiting game. After Raph gave blood he felt fine, then soon joined Leo and Mikey to find the guy who hurt Donnie. Much to Y/N's request, she prefers Raph to stay but the hothead was too stubborn to listen. 

Hopefully things will turn out alright in the end.

An hour has passed and - out of the corner of her eye - Donnie's hand started to twitch. She looked up as soon his eyes slowly opened. He groaned as he clutched his head. "Where am I?"

"You're in the lab, sweetie." The woman replied as she checked his vitals. "You've lost a lot of blood, Donnie. Did you drink water? Eat anything?" 

Donnie winced, knowing that he would get the lecture of his life. "N-No."

Y/N hummed, not too pleased with the answer. "Considering you're the medic of the team, you would have thought that you know how to take care of yourself." 

Donnie went to speak but he clutched at his throat, a burning sensation that soon turned painful as he started coughing. 

Y/N grabbed a bottle of water that was on the counter. "Lay back and let me take care of you." But Donnie wouldn't take it. Instead, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards him. Her gasp echoed in the lab as her body laid on top of his. "Donnie?"

"Just relax," Donnie whispered in her ear, his breath sent shivers down her spine. "Do you trust me?" 

Y/N's heart picked up pace. They both shared some playful gestures and flirting, but he would never pull something like this. Yet Donnie would never hurt her; always gentle and kind. His hazel eyes are the reason she kept going. 

"Yes." She whispered as they stared at each other and soon Donnie kissed her passionately. His kiss sent chills as he completely devoured her lips, almost animalistic. He separated from the kiss and he trailed his lips to her neck. Her legs trembled as he took a whiff of her scent. 

"Do you know how a turtle takes his mate?" Donnie smirked as he looked into her eyes. They are no longer hazel, but blood red. Y/N quickly got off his lap and had her back against the wall. "What's wrong, little one?"

"Your eyes," she paused. "They're not hazel." Y/N says as Donnie's eyes widen. He quickly got off the lab table and looked into the mirror; just like she said, his eyes are no longer hazel. Donnie took off the bandage and the wound was completely gone. 

Completely healed.

"Y/N, you need to run. If you stay here any longer, I will do something that both of us will regret." Donnie says as he clutches at his head. It's like his head was being split open. "I can feel my animal instincts trying to take control. You need to leave. If not, then I will end up biting you. Or worse."

Y/N watched Donnie as he tried to take control of his body, but she knew that won't last forever. She has gotten this far with him and she's not leaving, even if he does things to her body. She wants him just as much.

"Bite me." Donnie looked at her with horror. "I have gotten this far, Donnie. I'm not leaving, even if you push me away. You like me, don't you?" 

With the way Donnie bit his lip and averted his eyes, away from her, she knew her assumptions were right. "Then I have nothing to fear. Do whatever you may. We'll get through this together."

The purple clad turtle's heart melted. She's staying, even if he warned her. He just fell for her even more at this moment.

"But I do want you to catch me." Y/N smirked as Donnie shook his head, chuckling as he did so. The woman knew she wouldn't last long with the chase but the thrill and adrenaline that goes with it. . .

It's so exhilarating.

"You think you can run away from me?" Donnie's voice went down an octave and Y/N felt her core clench with anticipation. "Go on, let's see how long you can last."

Donnie lunged for her but she dodged him as she quickly bolted from the lab and headed towards the tunnels. Her heavy breathing and the sound of her shoes hitting the concrete floor was the only sound that echoed throughout the darkened walls. With every step she takes, it's like she could see his shadow following her. His red eyes trailed in any direction she went. 

Y/N was scared but also excited. 

"Run all you want," Donnie's voice echoed through the tunnels. "We both know you belong to me."

Y/N bit her lip with anticipation. Donnie has an advantage in this game. Not only could he smell her, but also could hear her heartbeat. He will find her in minutes. If not, then in seconds.

Y/N found a crack in the wall that was big enough for her squeeze through. Before she could, a hand grasped her shoulders and she let out a scream but silenced when Donnie's lips were placed upon hers. 

Her arms were around his neck as she clutched to him, letting the man above her take control. Oh, how he has her legs trembling.

He pulled away from her then, but chuckled when the woman tried to pull him back in for more passionate kisses. "My bedroom. Now."

That was the only order she got before he hoisted her over his shoulder and took her back towards the lair. It's almost like he teleported. One minute she was in the tunnels and now she was on his bed; her clothes were ripped to shreds as his lips attacked her neck, moans of pleasure filled his room.

"Don't hold back, Donatello!" 

The said turtle growled as he flipped the woman on her stomach, then hoisted her up. Butt in the air as her face buried in his sheets. Completely naked and ready for him to take what's his. He quickly took off his shoes and pants, the turtle now naked. Y/N heard his clothes being discarded. Oh, how the woman beneath him wished she could see him in all of his glory.

"Mine!" He growled once again as he pulled her hair back. Her whimper was the only thing he heard before he plunged inside of her, her wails echoing within his room as he showed no mercy. 

Skin collided with skin as their moans and groans of pleasure drove them both to the oasis of ecstasy. The noises coming from the woman would make anyone blush. If the others showed up, they wouldn't probably be worried. All Y/N and Donnie want was to stay in the warmth of each other and this bed together.

Donnie leaned down and licked her shoulder. "Tell me who you belong to." It was a command, and it was so hard to form sentences when his cock was literally hitting every single spot within her insides. 

"Y-You!" Was all she could muster before she felt fangs pierced into her skin. Her screams erupted from her throat as she came hard, squeezing his cock with it. 

Donnie hugged her waist as he came deep within her womb, making sure all of his essence stayed inside of her as he drank from her neck. After their climax was done he pulled away from her, licking her neck clean as he watched it sealed off. 

Donnie looked down at the woman below him as he came to, realizing what he had done. "Y-Y/N? A-Are you-?" Before he could finish, he was flipped over onto the bed with a screech and his eyes went wide when he saw his beloved's orbs. No longer the beautiful color he onced knew but now a deep shade of red. "Y-Y-Y/N?" 

Y/N chuckled devilishly, her tongue slowly running across her lips. "We're not done, Donnie baby. You started this and I'm gonna finish it myself." With that, she slammed herself onto his cock as his screams of pleasure erupted from within him.

It's going to be a long night. 

Tags:

@turtle-babe83 @leosgirl82

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🔞 REBLOGS ONLY, NO REPOST 🔞

#dilucsflame33 #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #tmnt bayverse donnie fanfic #tmnt bayverse donnie smut #tmnt donnie #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt bayverse #tmnt donnie x reader #donnie smut #tmnt halloween #tmnt trick or kink

[ghoulinpieces]

𝑽𝑨𝑴𝑷𝑰𝑹𝑰𝑪 𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑪𝑰𝑺𝑴 ✦ 𝑫𝑹𝑾

╰─➛ vampires surely couldn't exist. & surely, you wouldn't know one personally. so, obviously, no, your boyfriend isn't a bloodthirsty monster... right? so then why was he so odd?

❪ cw: a tad suggestive at times. brief mentions of drugs and overdosing. blood, obvi. arguing. kinda angsty, i suppose. fluff for the most part. a little rushed at times, mb. ❫

❪ ghoulie speaks !! first full fic i'm posting and it's lowkey a little shitty but it's okay. it's severely unedited so just ignore that, and happy spooky season babes <3 ❫

Growing up comes with fears. Whether that be the dark, or heights, or even stupid things that don't exist such as the boogeyman who sits all night under thousands of kids beds, terrorizing them into sleeping earlier, tucked in tight, as to avoid him.

These horror stories are told to you from a young age. From parents who need their kids to listen or older cousins who think it's hilarious to see the scared look on that poor six-year-olds face when they're told the story of why you hear howling on a full moon.

Some kids grow out of it, others don't. Either way it's all fictional superstition, isn't it? No need to be scared of that.

Not when there were very real things to be scared of, such as the spider crawling above the toliet that you were calling your trusty boyfriend to kill.

You were by the door, slipper in hand. He was on the couch, remote in hand. Looking for the perfect horror film to make you cringe when he faintly heard you call his name, jumped up the second time you yelled.

"What?" He approached you, noticing the slipper. He let out a sigh, smiling when you looked at him.

"Kill it." You frowned, "Please, I really gotta go and I can't." He laughed, palm outstretched for the slipper you immediately put in his hand.

"You know... we have two bathrooms. You don't always have to use this one."

"Okay, and? My pads are in this one.. what's the point of using that one when I have everything here?" You leaned on the doorframe, watching as he pushed the slipper against the creepy crawly on the wall. He made a face when you mentioned the pads, as if he was making a mental note of your time of the month. He was always weird on your period.

"Rest in peace, Charlotte." He shrugged, wiping it up with toliet paper.

"Stop doing that! You make me feel bad!" You laughed, hitting his bicep. He had begun referencing Charlotte's Web whenever this situation occurred. He thought it was the funniest thing seeing you cry over the helpful spiders death when you call him to play exterminator in your own home.

He laughed, "Relax. I mean, it's just a spider with friends and family. Wife, kids, a dream." You hit him again as he fixed his hair in the mirror, his freckles prominent in the bathroom lighting before finally walking towards the door.

"Get out." You giggled, "You're an evil man, Danny. Starting to think you don't have a soul." He sighed, his smile dimming a bit.

"Oh, if only you knew... hurry up in here. I wanna watch that new Saw movie." He smiled, closing the door. That was odd, wasn't it?

His words seemed so serious, too serious to be playing along. Maybe you're just overthinking, I mean... what could've he had meant?

But you've been noticing a lot of strange things lately. Ever since you had offered for him to start spending weekends at your place since he's always complaining about his roommate, plus he's barely at his own place anyways, and after much hesitation, he obliged. You've seen more and more of the things he thinks he keeps well hidden.

You've always noticed how he talks very vintage like. Not as in 18th century vintage but just like he's a kid from the 60s with no cares and the only thing he was looking forward too was Grateful Dead and Janis Joplin at Woodstock. But that was explainable, he likes old things, has an old soul.

But, something not so explainable is that he often ventures out at night, late when he thinks you're sleeping, and doesn't return till hours later, hair messed with and slightly out of breath when he snuggles back up to your form. Hands always cold. You swore you saw blood on his lip one time.

You've left your mind gone wild with explanations of that. Cheating always at the forefront but Danny could never do that. Not with his kind heart and his puppy eyes that worship you. His praises and actions that he reserves for you and you only.

You're not even sure if he sleeps at all. You're quite the insomniac yourself but even then you end up passing out of exhaustion. You've never seen him sleep.

He also doesn't eat garlic, can't be in the same room as it... odd but not the most strange.

You smile as you walk out the hallway and into the living room, your female pitbull cuddled up with him. You named her Rhiannon, it had been the song playing in the adoption center when you met. "Aw, aren't y'all just the cutest. I love that she loves you now." You scrunch your nose, bending over to kiss her snout.

You were always happy seeing them get along. When you first had Danny over, she had barked nonstop. She had even snapped at him, wouldn't let him near her or you. Which is odd considering she's the sweetest dog on Earth. She's never bitten anyone or even tried to, she's loves people, especially ones you're close with.

Odd she didn't like the man you're inlove with. Oh, well, she does now. That's all that matters, right?

Danny gently wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you onto his lap as you shivered from his cold touch.

He is always freezing.

For a man like Danny, you'd expect him to always run warm. Just like a human furnace, instead, he's the North Pole.

"You okay?" He knows you're okay, just like he knows why you're cold. Of course he does. He's managed to cover up the truth by telling you he has low iron.

You simply nod, grabbing the throw blanket from behind him and snuggling closer to him on his lap. He smiles softly as he starts the movie, setting the remote down before holding you tighter. You moved your legs to be touching Rhiannon, just to let her know she's not forgotten.

It's the simple things you do that make his heart ache, make him yearn for a forever with you. Yearn to be able to grow old and watch your grandkids play in the backyard. Yearn to be able to tell you the whole truth.

But he can't. He wouldn't do that to you. Let you know there's a limited time frame between your love before he has to move cities to keep his charade going. He must rather suffer with that knowledge alone then break your heart before it's time. Or break his when you inevitably fear him.

Oh, how he curses his soulless body for loving you so deeply.

Perhaps he should've gone with the twins to Nashville, he thinks the distraction of them would've kept him from falling inlove.

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦

It was sunny out, far too sunny for an October sunday afternoon but you weren't complaining. Danny was outside, playing with Rhiannon while you were in the kitchen, knife in hand, apple on the plastic plate you've had for far too many years.

He had offered to cut it for you but you declined. He does so much for you, the least you could do is cut your own fruit.

But even then, you always were a klutz. You grip on the knife had slipped, sending the blade straight into your middle finger as you, stupidly, tried to catch it. "Fuck!" You hissed grabbing a paper towel to wrap around the wound.

"What happened, are you okay?" You jumped as Danny appeared behind you. He's always been freakishly fast, Rhiannon just now approaching the kitchen and she was running.

"Jesus, fuck! Don't sneak up on me like that." You sighed, "Sorry, sorry... 'm fine, just cut myself." You frowned watching as he picked up the knife and dropped in the sink, his body tensing when you mentioned the cut. He shouldn't... it could go horribly wrong, he knows that... he does it anyways.

"Let me see." His voice is so soft you could cry, hand outstretched for yours which you give gladly. Winces escaping you as he looks at the cut, blood pooling slowly from the broken skin. His jaw clenched and eyes zeroed in on it, "You scared me, y'know, thought something worse happened."

"I'll be fine. Sorry I scared you, it just fucking hurt so bad." You sigh, he shook his head.

"Don't apologize, you hurt yourself. You're allowed to be as dramatic as you want." He smiled softly, looking up at you making a face at him. He smiled wider to which you smiled back before looking back at your finger.

"Shit, Danny, it's bleeding. Can you go get the band-" You cut yourself in shock when instead of doing what you had asked, he wrapped his mouth around your finger and sucked the blood away.

His eyes never left yours, it was strangely erotic. You just blinked at him, breathing quite heavily, "Never thought those fingers would be in my mouth in a different context." He just barely whispered, kissing the cut that had stopped bleeding. The cut that was barely a cut anymore and instead skin somewhat stitched back together.

He's panicking. He shouldn't have done that, what normal person does that? He just fucked everything. Fuck, there's no excuse or reasoning for that... blood kink? Wouldn't be too far from the truth. He ran his tongue over his teeth, panicking further when he feels the slight poke of his fangs.

You just laughed in slight disbelief, reaching up to kiss his cheek, "Thank you for helping me."

He laughed, "You gonna let me finish cutting it for you?" He hid his face by turning around to find another, clean, knife.

"Have at 'em, baby, I'm done. I'm injured." You sigh dramatically, walking over to kiss the base of his neck and wrap an arm around his waist, "Just so you know, and not to be weird here... that was strangely sexual... kinda hot" He laughed loudly, his eyes crinkling.

"You liked watching me suck your blood? Really? That's what does it for you?"

"Hey, you can suck my blood anytime you want, Dracula." If only you actually knew what you were saying.

"Might take you up on that, weirdo." He nudged you with his elbow. He wouldn't. He'd never do it, too risky. He could kill you. He's not too good at self restraint.

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦

Nights were always your favorite with Danny. Ever since he started spending nights over, your nighttime routine had been weaved along with his.

The two of you had learned to dance around each other in the bathroom. Maneuvering around one another so you get to your toothbrush or facial cleanser.

You were in the middle of scrubbing your teeth when Danny finished, putting the toothbrush he bought down at CVS to keep at your place in the cup. He leaned against the counter, watching you with the softest look on his face. He was a goner when it came to you, especially to the domesticity of your time spent together.

"Why you lookin' at me like that?" You smiled softly, looking over at him.

"Like what?" He laughed.

"You know how you're looking at me." You shook your head, putting your own toothbrush away.

"Like I love you?" He smiled, his arms wrapping around you, "Like you're the best thing to ever happen to me? Like I couldn't imagine never knowing you?"

Despite the blush on your face you laughed, and grabbed his arms, "Come on! Now, you're just bein' cheesy." You leaned your head back against his shoulder as he looked at you through the mirror, his own head resting ontop of your shoulder.

"Thought you liked cheesy." He kissed your cheek, his hands tightening their grip ever-so-slightly for just a moment before loosening.

"I do but sometimes you take it so far." You smile, walking out of his grip and grabbing his hand.

"There is never too much cheese." He sounded offended and it made you smile wider, "You think there's such thing as too much cheese?"

"I know there's such thing as too much cheese now get in bed. I'm tired."

With you cuddled up close to him and fast asleep, your arm around his waist and Rhiannon on his other side, her snout on his stomach, he decides to stay in that night. He can miss one night.

He hates leaving every night, to leave you in an empty bed that's cold for hours on end, but it's the only time he can get away long enough to do what he needs to. He wishes he didn't have to, he wishes he could stay wrapped up in you and your arms. Or at the very least he wishes he could sleep, he wishes for a lot of things.

But, when you're like Danny, most wishes can never be granted. And if they can, certainly not without a price. A risky, dangerous, scary, price.

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦

Perhaps you were bored or perhaps your Twilight binge had rotted your brain, but you were knees deep in vampire facts.

You were definitely bored.

You were simply curious as to what the original folk story had about vampires, what had been added over time for the sake of storytelling. First clicking on Reddit, horrible but what else would you use? But then, you started to notice that too many things stated seemed quite familiar.

You couldn't remember who it had reminded you of... it was annoying you if were honest.

Cold skin. Nocturnal. Freakishly fast. Doesn't like garlic. Little to no eating. Obviously likes blood.

But then, there were things that counteracted it like them burning in the sun and having no reflection. He loved to look in the mirror and he practically lived in the sun.

He... oh shit.

It was Danny. He fit every description.

You began to look more into it, going on odd forums and weird websites that seemed like they were created for the weirdos of the internet and everything you saw reminded you of him more and more. He fit everything. It was quite scary. But, it's just a coincidence, right? Vampires don't exist, right?

You'd just have to pay more attention than you already do the next time you see him.

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦

The week had came and gone since that night but you hadn't heard from Danny in days, you were worried. You had no one to call to see if they knew about his whereabouts. Sure, he had friends. Work friends. They rarely spoke outside of his job.

Sometimes you think you're the only one he hangs out with. He's a bit of a recluse but you can tell it's not by choice, he's far too much of a social butterfly and outgoing in public to be this lonely in a city as big as yours. Another odd thing about him. You might just start making a list. After you find him.

It wasn't like him to disappear, not like that. He always returned within the day. It's been radio silence since Monday morning when he left. He had even missed your date that was planned for Wednesday, ignored all your messages and calls while you sat at the book store, browsing alone.

You had considered going to his place after that but... he didn't necessarily allow you there.

It was never explicitly stated that you were banned from his home but he never invited you over, always made an excuse why you couldn't come in, never had you pick him up from his complex.

#7 on the list of things that make him odd and another reason to the possible vampire theory, but they don't exist. You don't even know why you're entertaining the idea.

So, maybe he is cheating. It explains the late night departures, you never spending time at his place. There's not much to go off of but... it's the most sane explanation you could think of.

You wouldn't believe he was a vampire. Fuck what all those sketchy websites and forums and reddit posts said. Vampires are not real.

But, oh, how it pains you to think of him cheating. To think that every moment between you two was an act, that every praise and act of service wasn't true, that he pleases other women in the dark of their bedroom the same he pleases you. That he doesn't love you.

You two had been together for a little over a year and you were madly inlove. He was your gentle giant and it pains you to think he could be someone else's as well. Maybe that's why he hesitated so much when you brought up the weekend stays, he had someone waiting for him back home.

If he did, she wasn't there. You had hesitated multiple times before finally knocking on the apartment door, you waited about a minute or so after hearing a dog bark before deciding to just leave. Maybe nobody was home.

But then the door swung open, his roommate on the other side. You had seen photos of him. He was tall and skinny, long brunette hair with a bit of a wave to it and downturned eyes accompanied with an amazing bone structure. "Oh, hello." His voice was a bit raspy, not too much but enough to notice.

"Hey... um, is Danny here?" Your voice was timid, you felt odd showing up out of the blue. Even odder and uncomfortable when his brows furrowed together in confusion.

"No... he isn't. Do you know him?"

Oh.

You realized you were staring when he tilted his head, "Oh, yeah... yeah I do. He's um... I'm Y/N. His girlfriend." You wanted to curse yourself for sounding so scared.

His face fell before his jaw clenched and his eyes widened, whether that be in panic or anger, you weren't sure, "You are? Well, he didn't tell me he was seeing anybody... I'm Sam." He reached his hand out and when you took it, all you could notice was that he was cold too.

"Yeah, he's... he's told me about you." You smile softly when he nods.

"I'd hope. I only live with the man." He laughed, quite stoner like, "He's never mentioned you. I can see why, you're quite gorgeous. No wonder he wants to keep you a secret from me." Lie. He knows why Danny never told him and he knows it's not because of how gorgeous he finds you, "How long have you been seeing him?"

"For like a year or so..." You sigh as his face falls, "Kinda odd he never mentioned me, huh?"

"Oh, yeah. Really odd." He shrugged, "But, yeah, he's been down in Nashville since Monday. He returned home from wherever it is he spends his weekends, which I assume is your place? He left that afternoon, a family emergency popped up. I couldn't go, I mean, I have a dog to feed. Can't leave her all by herself." He laughed.

"Since Monday?"

"Yeah... I gather he didn't tell you? Missed whatever it is you had planned Wednesday?"

"Did he tell you about it?" How could he tell Sam he had a date but not about you? You were starting to regret this, you just wanted to go home. Maybe you could distract yourself with terrible Netflix romcoms.

"Not really. All he told me he was busy on Wednesday but I just assume he must've cancelled once he left..." Sam tilted his head, "Quite cruel he didn't."

You frowned, "It is, isn't it? Um... if you hear from him at all.. can you just tell him to give me a call?"

"Oh, yeah, of course." Sam will, but he can't promise that he'll tell Danny he can keep seeing you. It's far too dangerous, not just for you but for them too, "You have a nice day, Y/N." He smiled, you smiled back though it had to be forced.

"You too, Sam." The interaction did more harm than good, you felt odd and off balance as you walked away. More saddened than anything. What was Danny hiding from you? Why was he hiding you? Were you some dark secret?

You were taken out of your memory revisit when you heard a knock on the door, Rhiannon barking as she you shushed her and stood.

You sighed when you opened the door. Your gentle giant standing with sunflowers in hand, fiddling with his necklace and his short curly hair moving when he looked up at you. You were relieved he was alive, pissed that he disappeared and showed up with flowers.

"Hi." He breathed. He thought you looked radiant, he always did. You could show up covered in dirt and mud and slime and he'd happily clean you off while complimenting how beautiful you are, "Got you flowers... sorry that I missed-"

"Where the fuck have you been?" You cut him off, hand on your hip as you eyed him.

Shit.

He's heard that tone before. He's seen you use it on the phone with your mother when she's pissed you off, and he's seen you use it with Rhiannon when she won't listen. You've used it hundreds of times, pissed off beyond belief, he's just never been on the receiving end.

"You disappear for fucking days, ignore all of my texts and my calls then you show up like everything's fine? With fucking flowers?" You sighed, pushing the door open with more force than necessary, "Get in, I'm not arguing with you in the middle of the hallway." He quickly obliged. If there's one thing he's learned about you when your mad, it's to listen.

"Baby, believe me when I say I am so, so, sorry I missed our date and didn't call. I was going too but I had a family emergency and it just slipped my mind." It's not a lie, but it's not the whole truth. The truth would involve exposing him and the twins to you, he couldn't do that.

Now, he sounded genuine, but the anger that seeped itself into your bones refused to leave that easily.

"It slipped your mind to call me and tell me you were going to Nashville? What? Did it also slip your mind to tell your roommate I existed, Danny?" He tensed up, eyes wide, once you mentioned Sam.

"You went to my apartment? You talked to Sam? Why would you do that? What's wrong with you?" He knew he fucked up when the words left his mouth and you frowned,

"What's wrong with me? Are you shitting me, Danny?"

"You know I didn't mean it like tha-"

"You were gone for fucking days! I didn't know where you were, not one fucking call or text in eight days! What did you expect me to do?!" You snapped, you were not going to be painted as the one in the wrong for caring, "He at least had the decency to tell me where you were!"

"What did you tell him?" You wanted to scream, that's what he was worried about? "Y/N! What did you tell Sam? Did you tell him we're together?"

"No, I told him I was a fucking alien from Mars looking to probe your brain. Of course I told him we're together, why wouldn't I?" You sighed, arms crossed. Danny looked tense, scared. You've never seen him like that.

"Because I'm not supposed to be seeing you... I'm not... I was never supposed to be even talking to you." He sighed, rubbing at his forehead. You just felt more confused and hurt.

"What the fuck do you mean? ...Danny!" You exclaimed when he didn't answer, "Are you... are you cheating on me?"

"What?"

He looked bewildered, maybe even hurt you'd think that. You regret asking but what was were you supposed to say? You two were on opposite sides of the world, he was in the light and you were in the dark. You needed to know.

"Are you?"

"No, baby, no. I'd never, I... even if I could I wouldn't." He sighed, frowning. He walked over to you, grabbing your biceps softly, "I promise you, I would never. I love you and only you, where would you even get such an idea?"

"Are you shitting my dick? Do you think you're good at hiding shit? I know you sneak out in the middle of the night for hours, Sam didn't even know about me and now you're saying you're not supposed to be seeing me." You sigh, dropping your arms which he immediately grabbed your hands. And you let him, "What the fuck is going on with you?" He sighed, looking down at the ground before back at you.

"Listen, I can't tell you-" You scoffed, taking your hands back and going to walk away before he grabbed your arm and turned you to him, "You don't know how badly I wish I could, but, please just trust me when I say it's for your benefit. It'd be dangerous for you to know." His hands grabbed your face, his fingers gentle as they cradled it, thumbs brushing your cheeks.

"What are you in a gang? I can't... I can't be with you if you're hiding shit from me, Danny." You frowned, "You can't just keep lying to me."

"I know but... it's better if I do." He whispered. He didn't want to lose you, ever, but maybe it is for the better.

"So you're fine with me walking away? You're okay with losing me?"

"No, I'm not but I can't tell you the truth."

"You'd much rather I break up with you than tell me?" You couldn't believe it, it seemed like a such a stab. It was worse for him though, he knew he was going to lose you but he thought he had at least another three years with you. At least he'd be able to get over it now rather than mope about leaving you behind when him and Sam move down to Nashville to be with the twins, "I can't fucking believe you, Danny. Seriously. What is so fucking bad that you'd rather lose me than just be honest?" You weren't sad, not at that moment. You wanted him to fight for you instead he gave up as if it was a battle he could never win, which in his eyes, it was.

"Y/N..." He sighed, "I'm sorry."

"You're not sorry, Danny, don't act like you are. Jesus Christ, you don't even care! Do I really mean that little to you? Like seriously, did I ever matter?" You scoffed, taking a step back.

"You mean everything to me, Y/N, and you know that. Do you seriously think I don't care?" He seemed hurt that you'd ever think that but what else were you supposed to think?

"You're not showing me otherwise." You frowned, "Just... just tell me!" You exclaimed, opening you're mouth to speak before he beat you to the finish line.

"I'm a vampire! Okay? I'm a fucking nocturnal blood sucking monster!"

Is he... is he serious? ...Does he think you're that fucking dumb?

You can't help but laugh loudly, putting your head into your hands. He's scared out of his mind, he doesn't know how you're gonna react. He just knows he can't lose you this early, he needs you. He's an addict and you're his heroine.

He's quite literally the vampire and he considers you to be the blood.

"I can't believe you. Are you fucking with me? Like... are there some hidden cameras here?" You look around to emphasize your words while he stares at you, "Jesus, fuck, Danny. Y'know-"

"You don't believe me?" He seemed shocked, as if he didn't just say he was a vampire.

"Of course I don't believe you! Vampires don't exist!" You exclaimed, "You seriously much rather fuck with me? If you're cheating, the least you could do is tell me! It'd make this a whole lot easier!"

"Make what easier? You're seriously gonna leave me? Even after I told you the truth?" He seemed in disbelief. He swears, if he had a heart it'd broken like a dropped vase. Shattered. Pieces scattered around the floor that he'll have to pick up one by one and try his best to glue and tape back together but inevitably fail because he'll be missing the key part. You.

"You're not telling me the truth, Danny!"

"I am! I swear to God I am!" He was getting frustrated now too, you had never seen him so annoyed. If you weren't drowning in your arguement, you'd want him to take you then and there.

Anger looked good on him.

"Prove it!"

"What?"

You sighed, rubbing at your forehead, "You heard me, Danny. If you're really a nocturnal bloodsucker, prove it."

He scoffed, "How do you want me to prove that?" You rolled your eyes, "I'm not gonna start fucking running around here like I'm Edward Cullen." You scoffed this time. Did he have to be so fucking cute? And dumb?

"Your fangs. Show me your fangs." You stepped closer to him, hands on your hips. Watching as he sighed before opening his mouth, you waited a moment or two, just looking at a regular human mouth. But then, you gasped as his fangs began growing in. His teeth changing right before your eyes.

His eyes, however, were no longer the sweet brown you adore but instead piercing red. Scarier, sure, but his puppy dog eyes were still there and you loved it all the same.

"Believe me now?"

"But you don't burn in the sun... and you have a reflection..." You whispered, eyes wide and frantic.

"All myths." He shrugged as if he didn't just reveal that he was a blood thirsty monster, "Do you believe me?"

"Yeah.. yeah, I believe you." He smiled at that, putting his fangs more on display, "Oh my God... you don't... all those nights you disappeared, you weren't eating people were you? You're not gonna eat me, right?"

"No! Oh my God, no." He laughed a bit, his hands immediately shooting to grab your arms, "I feed off of animals. I don't... I never liked the idea of killing someone. I mean, I don't have to kill you to feed off you but..." He trailed off, shrugging.

"But what?" You tilted your head. You wanted to understand, you needed to, "You're afraid you'll go too far?"

"I have gone too far. One too many times." He sighed, "So, animals are the next best thing. They work just as well as people."

"You're a vampire." You laughed, the information fully settled, "Oh my God! Is that why Sam didn't know about me?" You frowned as he looked down at the ground.

"Yeah.. yeah, we made a deal we wouldn't going to get close to anybody here, let alone date them. Too many broken hearts, too many risks. Plus, we'd have to leave eventually." He sounded sad, telling you all this. And you couldn't help but hang onto to the leaving part, "But I just... I couldn't stay away from you even if I wanted too... you know that."

"You're gonna have to leave at some point?"

"Listen, I don't want to but... I can't stay forever. I mean, either way, I'm immortal... you're gonna grow old and blossom while I'm stuck being 24." He frowned, stepping closer to you. Your chest against his, "I promise you, if I could stay and give you the life you want I wouldn't even think twice about doing it." You just nodded, wrapping your arms around him.

This was going to take some getting used to.

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦

It had been three months since that night. Things were the same for the most part but you could tell, the fact that you'll have to inevitably part has been looming over both your heads. You just decided to ignore it, live in delusion. It hadn't exactly worked.

You two had always been inseparable but even more so now. Constantly touching, constantly talking, constantly just being together. You still never went to his place, Danny claiming it's because he likes the privacy of your apartment, and something about Sam being a whore.

However, that didn't stop Sam from wanting to get to know you. Ever since he found out about you, he claimed you're all Danny ever talked about. He never realized just how little Danny talked before then. You've invited him over once or twice.

He'll come in, eat all your food, because apparently vampires not being able to eat human food is also a myth, something about how as long as they drink blood they'll be fine. He'll talk to you about whatever, whenever, as if you're old friends and be completely barefoot the entire time.

You've also overheard their little conversations once or twice, mostly about you. Mostly about how badly the break-up will hurt, the seconds counting down to it.

"Y'know..." Sam started, looking in your fridge, his tone immediately tensing Danny up. That's the tone he'll use whenever he's about to suggest something outrageous, "You could always turn her, wouldn't exactly be difficult-"

"Are you fucking crazy?" Danny exclaimed, accidentally slamming his water bottle down. Eyes shooting daggers at Sam, "Seriously, Sam? Do you know what could fucking happen?"

"Yes, I know. You have no restraint and you'll end up killing her which you know isn't true." Sam sighed, closing the nearly empty fridge and leaning against it, arms crossed.

You were currently standing in the hallway, trying your best to eavesdrop quietly.

"Isn't true my ass. Do you not remember Annie? Her death was my fault." Sam rolled his eyes, sighing. He always brings up fucking Annie.

On that note, who the fuck is Annie? He's never mentioned an Annie to you.

"Annie died because she was coked out and shooting heroine while you did it. She would've died either way from an overdose, you just sped up the process. Y/N isn't a fucking drug addict, she'll live." He wasn't wrong but Danny could never risk it.

"You don't know that, Sam."

"Yes, I do. You love her too much to ever risk hurting her, I know. But guess what? You didn't love Annie, not the way you love her, and Annie surely didn't love you, she used you for drugs and sex, man, and you know that." Danny did know that, but that doesn't make the blood on his hands wash away, "You think Y/N wants to lose you too?"

"No, I don't but guess what, Sam? I'm not ever doing it, no matter what. I'm not risking her life or taking away her fucking soul." Danny sighed, rubbing his forehead, "I can't... I don't want to. I could never forgive myself if she died, just like I could never forgive myself if I took her away from her life."

What life? You rarely talk to your family in years and all your close friends live in different states. Danny had been the one constant.

"Just because you didn't get a choice in the matter doesn't mean she shouldn't either." God, he hated when Sam was right.

"She wants to grow old and have a family, Sam, she doesn't want to move from state to state every three to six years." Danny sighed, looking down at the counter he was leaning on.

"How do you know that? How do you know that girl won't follow you to the ends of the Earth? 'Cause it's clear as day that she'll do whatever if it means you won't leave." Sam had grabbed Dannys water now, going to sip from it when you finally decided to walk into the kitchen. Saving Danny from the conversation.

"Hey, weirdos. What'd I miss?" You smiled, seeing Danny immediately soften at the sight of you. And you didn't miss the look Sam gave him either when you walked up and wrapped your arms around his waist.

"Nothing. Just vampire shit." Sam smiled.

"Yeah... just vampire shit, nothing interesting." Danny smiled, "I'll go get the popcorn ready if you wanna go put movie on."

"Sam... you wanna do that for me?" Thank God he took the hint and walked to the living room, both hands raised as he did. He usually complains whenever you imply you want to be alone with Danny, "Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Why wouldn't I be?" He turned around in your arms, his hands resting on your face, "Got you in my arms."

You scrunched your nose at him which he kissed, "You're so cheesy. Go get the popcorn ready, Dracula." You kissed his cheek, leaving him alone in the kitchen when you walked away.

You'll bring it up another day. For now, you're enjoying all the time you have left with Danny... and apparently Sam.

#danny wagner x reader #danny wagner fluff #vamp!danny #greta van fleet fluff #gvf fluff #danny wagner fic #gvf fic #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet fic #ghoulie <3

[excelsi-or]

summoned (pt. 5)

I saw this quote recently that said, "Stop thinking too much, you're breaking your own heart." Feel like I've been doing it a lot the last little while and this made me feel a bit better. Feel like the productivity wheel is always trying to make me feel like I need to fix my whole life. Working on not doing that lol.

pairing: woozi x fem!reader/fem!OC

w.c. 2.5k

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

“What did you see exactly?” Jihoon asks, squatting on the other side of the coffee table.

She, Hansol, Seokmin, and Jihoon are back at her apartment. 

Despite being well past midnight, Hansol insisted on coming along. Luckily, Seungkwan was asleep by then and couldn’t ask questions.

“What did you see?” Hansol prompts. “All I got was the smell.”

“Bodies. There are bodies in that building,” she states.

As soon as they got into her apartment, she’d collapsed on the couch. Seokmin quickly began rectifying the situation, wrapping her in a blanket, bringing her tea, even going so far as to heal the burn on her hand. Not that she seemed to notice any of it.

He’d propped her upright on the couch, but even so, she tilted her head back with closed eyes. Jihoon thought she’d died.

“You just said bodies,” Hansol repeats.

“Yeah. That’s what I said.”

Jihoon’s brow furrows and Seokmin is starting to look angry.

“Why are there bodies in there?” Seokmin demands. The two humans glance up at Seokmin, whose eyes are on Jihoon. It’s a tone they’ve never heard from him in the years they’ve known him. “You said that it was about possession.”

“I am also not in on this new plan they’re concocting,” Jihoon argues. “Angels always get so worked up before they know the full picture.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Hansol asks, hand raised. He meets Seokmin’s eye. “You’re a what now?”

Seokmin motions towards himself and Jihoon. “Angel, demon. Other side of the same coin.”

“We are on two completely different coins,” Jihoon grumbles. He straightens and begins pacing. “I haven’t figured out why I’ve been left out of this one.”

“Yeah, don’t they love you down there?”

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “You’re right, I do the bare minimum.”

Seokmin smirks. “You do love humans, that’s true.” The angel adjusts the blanket around her shoulders. “So, what do you propose we do?”

“We need to go back. I need to see it properly.” Jihoon looks to the human, whose eyes are slowly falling closed. “There was no one else there, right?”

“Not anyone alive that I noticed.”

The demon glances at the clock. Just after 3 AM. “We should be able to go now.”

Seokmin hums as he stands, ruffling her hair a bit. It always makes her smile; this time is no exception. “Your car then?”

Hansol frowns. “You have a car? So, why’d hyung have to drive?”

She rests a tired, affectionate hand over Hansol’s whole face. “I’ll explain everything I know.”

Jihoon heads towards the door. His eyes dart to the hallway table. “Am I required to take the key?” 

“I already told you.” The human’s voice is exasperated but gentle. “I don’t like when you put magic over my door. I don’t need my soul taken. So, please, take the key. It’s on the table.”

Jihoon rolls his eyes and plucks the key from the tray. “Got it.”

“He’ll be home by sunrise,” Seokmin calls.

The two unearthly beings hear Hansol’s last question as the door shuts behind them. “Who is this vampire boyfriend you’ve summoned?”

Seokmin chuckles. “Sollie’s not wrong. You sound like her boyfriend.”

Jihoon frowns, shaking his head. “I’m a demon, not a boyfriend.”

“You follow her around. You meet her friends. You take the key when she tells you to.” Seokmin shrugs his shoulders, his gaze upwards towards the spot where the wall and ceiling meet. “Sounds like a whipped boyfriend to me.”

Jihoon glances at the angel as he presses the call button for the elevator, not understanding ‘whipped’. 

When Seokmin explains it, Jihoon likes the angel and Hansol even less. “Two of those things you mentioned were out of my control.”

“You didn’t have to take the key,” Seokmin snorts. When he blinks again, the demon's back into his usual black suit.

“It is much easier to get the human to do my bidding if she’s willing, do you not think?”

“And you like her.” Seokmin pushes the door open, holding it for Jihoon. They both take in the cool night air. “You like her more than any other human you’ve met.”

Jihoon chooses to ignore this last statement. When they’d stepped out of the elevator, his baby had been waiting patiently in front of the apartment. Practically skipping down the steps, Jihoon can’t help but smile at how shiny his baby is.

Seokmin waits for the demon to finish admiring the car before climbing into the passenger seat.

“I don’t like that you’re using her to get what you need by the way.” Seokmin pulls the seatbelt on. “You could have gone in there yourself. I also don’t like that you branded both her and Hansol.”

“I didn’t ‘brand’ anyone. I should have exorcised everyone in that room tonight, but I didn’t.” Jihoon shifts the car into drive and immediately speeds out of the parking space.

Seokmin frowns, gripping the door handle. “You think some of them could be possessed?”

“Being inside a human rather than having your own human body to step into are two different things.” Jihoon looks over at him, but Seokmin pushes his cheek back to face the road. He may not be able to die from a car accident, but it will still be painful. “You can sense me, right?”

“The wonderful black clouds that follow you around are easy to see.”

“Demons in human bodies that they’ve possessed don’t give off the same energy. If I struggle to tell them apart, you’re less likely to be able to. But they can sense us.”

Seokmin processes that information. All it does is send an uncomfortable chill down his spine. “So, how long are we thinking they’ve been doing this?” he asks, trying to get comfortable even though his wings keep trying to sprout and get him to safety. “Should I be rallying the troops?”

“Rallying your troops means calling the angels down, having the Final Day.” Jihoon waves his hand dismissively. “We’re not doing that.”

Seokmin nods. “As crazy as they are, I would like to see this set of humans out to their end.”

Jihoon glances over at him. “You like them that much?”

“They’re hilarious.” The rest of the drive to the abandoned building is filled with Seokmin’s stories from high school and university. Even with Jihoon pushing double the speed limit, it’s too long.

Luckily, the stories don’t require Jihoon to respond.

“You should go first,” Jihoon says once they arrive. They park where Myungho had earlier.

Seokmin lifts his eyebrow.

“They’ll sense you before they sense me.”

When Jihoon joins him around the front of the car, Seokmin says, “So you’d rather I die so you don’t get outted as a traitor?”

“I haven’t done anything traitorous,” Jihoon eyes the buildings, “yet.”

“Fine.” Seokmin stalks ahead. “But only because I like you most days.”

At the later hour, the black smoke clouds are prominent. The angel and demon can see that the smoke isn’t coming from all the buildings now. It’s trailing from the one Jihoon had sent the humans into.

“What’s the point of us going to see them again?” The air is making Seokmin want to hurl. Or have a coughing fit. Likely both.

“Approximation of how long they’ve been doing this.” Jihoon adds, “And then we’ll know if your friends are possessed.”

“What are we?” Seokmin scoffs. “Cops?”

Jihoon chooses to ignore the sarcasm. “Cops are pretty evil. We could be.”

“They are not evil,” Seokmin argues. “Some of them get a little power hungry, and it gets to their heads. Easy to rectify the—”

“No, as in some of them have traded their souls.” Jihoon names three officers currently in the local police force who called on him a few years ago. “The souls are older, so He doesn’t like them as much, but what could I do?” He shrugs. “Those are the people summoning me these days.”

“What else have you been up to since I saw you… Where were we? New York? Y2K, yes?”

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “That one would’ve been fun if you’d let me do it.”

“You were going to cause World War III.”

“That’s a bit dramatic. It wouldn’t have been that bad.”

“It wouldn’t have been all that fun either. They would have destroyed each other.”

“Well, I’m sure thanks to you, humanity is alive and well.” Jihoon grabs Seokmin’s arm, stopping him in front of the building he recognizes from Myungho’s photos.

Seokmin passes a hand over the handprint Jihoon leaves on his cardigan. “Alive and well except for the ones in this building.”

“We don’t know that for sure.”

“We do know. She said they’re in here. And they’re dead.”

Jihoon leads the way. He already knows to go down the hallway. One, because of the trail of black smoke; two, because of the footprints. “Why do you trust her? Why do you think she understands anything that’s going on?”

“I don’t think she knew about this.” Seokmin looks around when he hears a bump from the second floor, but Jihoon is unbothered. “And she’s never given me a reason not to trust her. I’ve never known her to be a liar. An omitter of facts, maybe.”

“Trust and honesty are not interchangeable.”

“But they create the same—oh my… What in the Heavens?”

Jihoon leaves the angel standing flabbergasted in the doorway, so that he can check out the body lying in the center of the room. He squats down beside it. It’s hard to make out any features, because of the heaviness of the smoke. Eventually, the angel seems able to stomach the smell and wanders over. 

Seokmin waves a hand over the body, white light emanating off his skin. It disperses some of the smoke.

The demon recognizes Seokmin’s murmurs as prayers.

“His soul is gone, Seokmin.” He peers at the body through the smoke, the angel’s words gibberish to his ears. The body has decomposed quite a bit; it’s nearly bone. The energy here would have kept any scavengers away.

He gets up and heads towards the stairs.

“Humans should be allowed to keep their souls,” Seokmin grumbles as he follows Jihoon. “We shouldn’t get a say in what happens to them. It should be up to God.”

“They get reincarnated if they aren’t possessed or sell their soul or anything like that.”

“And then we take them.”

“Yeah, supposedly once they’ve been good,” Jihoon points out. The staircase is narrow so Jihoon can’t see Seokmin’s face. “I assumed you would know that and believe it was a good thing.”

When Seokmin doesn’t respond, even when they crest the stairs, Jihoon gives him a good look. He was about to ask what the humans did to him, but Seokmin’s gone pale.

It takes Jihoon a second to realize that the air is heavy. As if he’s back in Hell. The concentration of energy must be overwhelming to the angel, but it makes sense why evidence can be seen near the edge of the complex. The unfinished building hasn’t kept the energy contained like the body down below.

Seokmin trails after him, coughing into the collar of his shirt. He holds a hand out to create a little air pocket for himself. Still, he needs to squint to see Jihoon, who is squatting down next to what Seokmin realizes is a pile of bodies. “What are you thinking?”

When Jihoon nudges a few bodies off the pile, Seokmin’s reaction is so visceral, Jihoon shoots him a look. The bodies at the bottom are bones.

“They’ve been at this a while.”

“What’s a while?”

“Long enough that these bodies have decomposed without much environmental help. More than a year. Probably closer to two. The bottom is bone.”

Seokmin’s eyes are on the moon in the sky, praying for clean air. “Great. So, what’s our plan now?”

“What’s the end goal? What’s the point? The earth is just as fucked up as it was the last time I was here. Maybe slightly more so, but not enough to bring about the End Days.”

“I mean, there are currently talks of nuclear war. A few wars,” Seokmin sighs sadly, “in the last few years. Nearly every major city has had a protest for climate change, female rights, and racial equality.”

“It all sounds standard,” Jihoon muses. He stares at the pile of bones. Humans possessed by demons whose souls became so corrupt that the possession began to show through. It’s the only reason why a demon would give up a body.

They head back to the car. 

“We can’t even go back and ask about this.”

“No, we can’t. But I have a feeling that your little human friend knows.”

Seokmin rolls his eyes. “There are other humans like her.” He can feel his body relaxing as they get farther away from the site. “Ones that are just a little more intuitive.”

“I’ve met humans like that. She is not one of them.” Jihoon pulls her sketchbook from inside his suit jacket pocket. It shouldn’t fit in there based on Earth rules. He flips through the last few sketches. “You see what I see, don’t you?”

Seokmin sighs. He can see.

“Does she pick those places out herself? Draws them because she can feel the energy there? Has she shown you any of these?”

“Her sketches are typically off limits to us.” Seokmin glances over his shoulder. Now, he just feels on edge. “We get to see the final product. She’s usually protective of her sketchbook. Did you steal it?”

Jihoon flips to the end where he had been jotting down ideas. “She let me write in it.”

“You must have been extremely annoying if she gave that over to you."

Jihoon scoffs, as they climb back into the car.

"Well, all we can do is ask her."

"Her boyfriend's not going to get offended that we're accusing her of being a demon?" Jihoon asks.

"Are we accusing her of being a demon? That's what you're doing. And are you talking about Hansol? They've just known each other a really long time, wound up in the same business."

"Really? You too?" Jihoon tucks the sketchbook back into his pocket before slipping into the driver's seat. "The man look as if he's going to try to kill me in my sleep. If I slept, that is."

"He's protective of her, that's all. Worried that she's going to get her heart broken by some Casanova."

"She did say she had notoriously bad taste in partners."

Seokmin snorts, his grip tight on the door handle. "I've only met a handful of them. No demons, no angels, all humans."

"We're not allowed to date." It's a pretty general rule for angels and demons.

"Some do," Seokmin chuckles. "You don't stay on the surface too long, but angels will date around." He shrugs. "Demons seem to just love the 'fun'."

Jihoon doesn't respond to this.

part 6

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #lee jihoon scenarios #woozi scenarios #woozi imagines #svt #woozi #lee jihoon #woozi fic

[spider-kitty23]

Toxicity 18+

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x afab! spider-reader

Summary; After a night of arguing about what to do about the M.I.A Miles Morales, your short-tempered boss finally snaps and reveals a side of him you've never seen, and you like it.

Tags/Warnings; Smut! Lots of plot! Rough sex, Arguing, Mentions of biting, Unprotected sex (oopsie), Blowjob after p in v ,Dirty talk, Pain kink, light power play, degradation/praise, Caught?.

WC; 3.6k

Some Spanish words so here are the translations :)

Dios mio = My god

Pendeja = Idiot

Princesa = Princess

Bebe = Baby

Cállate la boca = Shut your mouth

Ay coño = Oh fuck

Cállate = Shut up

Mi vida = My life

"This is your fault, Gwen." Miguel growled with anger in his eyes as he stared daggers into the young teen.

Moments had passed since the frightened Miles made his big escape from HQ and rather than take responsibility for attacking and scaring him off, Miguel was going on a rampage about who to blame.

Nobody, including you, dared to say a word as he stormed towards Gwen in an almost animalistic manner. Like the 'vampire' in him was taking over. He came to a stop directly in front of the heaving teen where he towered over her and continued to stare into her soul with his now reddened eyes.

"You were too hard on him! Let me talk to him- He's my friend!" she pleaded in a wobbling voice that betrayed the fire in her heart to stand up for Miles.

Miguel didn't respond at first.

Instead, he took a few short breaths and titled his head back to pinch the bridge of his nose before speaking, "We already tried that." he muttered in a strained voice, "And look where that got us."

You could tell he was resisting the urge to scream at your fellow spider-woman.

You just know him like that.

Of course as one of the first recruited spider people of the spider society, you two were closer than most.

Well, at least as close as Miguel would let you two get before shutting down his feelings and becoming the intimidating leader everyone knew him as.

And since you know him so well, usually you wouldn't protest against his decisions or actions. But considering this was the last straw for Gwen, who you had grown to look out for in an almost motherly way, you had to say something to stop him from kicking her out of the spider society.

"Miguel...go easy on her." you said from your spot on the ceiling, where you were calmly observing the situation.

The sound of your voice immediately caught the attention of everyone in the room because apparently nobody had noticed your presence thanks to your unique ability to turn invisible like Miles.

At the mention of his name, your boss/leader snapped his head in your direction and glared at you, "And where were you during all of this?!" He asked while placing his hands on his hips as he turned to face you.

"Right here." you shrugged with a small smile before using your webs to anchor a secure way to lower yourself down from the ceiling and onto ground level with everyone else.

Being one of the more organic spider people (besides turning invisible), it was in your nature to partake in spider-like behaviors, which was usually never a problem back in your home dimension. But here in Nueva York, aka Miguel's home dimension, he found it annoying that you were always hanging from ceilings and quietly crawling along the walls.

"Y/n! Thank god you're here." Gwen grinned while raising her sleeve to her face in an attempt to discreetly wipe the tears forming in her eyes. Just as you reached the ground and stablized yourself, she ran to you and wrapped her arms around you in a tight hug.

"Woah there!" You giggled softly before returning her embrace by cradling her waist and head.

She laughed along with you as she leaned back for a moment to look at you, "Please, you guys have to let me talk to him. He-He just doesn't understand." she pleaded, returning to her frantic state from moments ago.

You weren't sure how to handle this.

On one hand, Miles has every right to want to save his father. He's just a kid after all.

But on the other hand, Miguel knows better than anyone why the canon can never be disrupted, so it would be foolish to ignore what he says.

You thought about it for a moment and figured there was no way to please both your boss and Gwen. No matter what happened, one of them would be left upset.

And with that, you took a deep breath and took Gwen's hands in yours, "You're right, Gwen. You know him better than anyone here, so you have to be the one to bring him back." you announced with certainty that you were dead after this.

"So go. Bring him back. Go." is the last thing you said to Gwen before breaking the hug and giving her an approving nod.

In the blink of an eye she was gone.

Off to find Miles and return him to HQ where we could further explain the canon to him with the hopes of changing his mind about his father.

It was crazy and out of line of you but you didn't care.

You were ready for the heat.

"So. I'm in trouble, huh?" you sighed while glancing toward Miguel, allowing you to catch a glimpse of him that left you with a fear no villain could ever enlist in you.

"So much trouble." he growled and looked at you, his eyes so dark they triggered your spidey senses.

'+_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ +'

After kicking out every other spider person and ordering Lyla to work with spider-byte on tracking Miles in another room, it was just you and Miguel in his office.

"Dios mio, y/n. What were you thinking?!" he shouted at you as he paced the room back and forth in a short line with his hands on his hips. You had never seen him so mad before, but you weren't surprised considering you had gone against his direct orders of well, never giving out orders.

It wasn't your place.

But then again you never were really the type to follow rules, and he knew that.

He also knew you felt no remorse for your actions and would probably do it again. You were nothing but a disobedient spider-woman to him, and he hated it.

So imagine his annoyance as you sat there in HIS office chair rolling your eyes and messing around with your web slingers, not listening to a word he is saying.

"Do you even realize how bad this is for the canon?! Ay, pendeja?!" he continued cursing you in English and Spanish, something he did when he was particularly upset.

You couldn't help but scoff, he had been chewing you out the entire time without even stopping to hear your side and why you did what you did.

It was frustrating to say the least.

Finally having enough of it, you stood from your seat and crossed your arms over your chest in an attempt to feel bigger in front of the ridiculously large man.

"You gonna let me explain myself or what?" You asked as you patiently waited for him to stop pacing, even though it was clear he wouldn't be doing so anytime soon.

"What is there to explain?!" Miguel raised his voice to the point that his words were echoing off the walls like booming lyrics being blasted out of speakers.

He came to a stop and turned his body toward yours to tower over you in his usual intimidating nature.

Staring up at him as his broad muscular shoulders heaved with every breath he took, you nearly forgot what the two of you were even arguing about.

Because no matter how many times he screamed at you or gave you nasty looks, you could never deny the fact that he was one of, if not the most attractive man you have ever seen.

With high cheekbones, narrowly seductive eyes, plump lips, and muscles for days, he was truly a work of art. Hand carved by god or whoever is running this shit show themselves.

It was normal for you to feel attracted to him.

So it was no surprise that your stomach became knotted and full of butterflies at the sight of him so riled up and angry.

Miguel knew by the sound of your pounding heart that you were either terrified or aroused by him, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

He couldn't know for sure that you wanted him the same way he so desperately wanted you, not without using his other senses of course.

Taking a few steps toward you, he watched and listened for your reaction and for any signs to confirm his suspicion.

"W-Well...you see," you began the start of your explanation, "Gwen was right. You were too hard on him, you should have let her do the talking." you attempted to make your point despite how close he was getting to you.

Miguel raised an eyebrow, his hands still on his hips as he took yet another step in your direction. You retaliated by backing away.

"Is that so?" he tilted his head with forced amusement on his handsome face, "And what makes you so sure of that? Hm, Princesa?" he finally has you cornered with your back against the wall.

Your heart fluttered at the pet name.

You knew he was taunting you but something about the way it rolled off his tongue so smoothly made your stomach begin to coil. It also didn't help that he had you pinned up against a wall with his hot breath fanning your face as he used one arm to hold himself up and leaned down to your level.

Gulping, you had no response for him which caused a smirk to spread across his face and reveal a glimmer of his fangs. "Don't get quiet now, Bebe. You started this conversation, so finish it." Miguel continued with his tactics, loving the effect he had on you.

Using his free hand, he gently caressed your jaw and placed his finger below your chin. This allowed him to tilt your head back and force you to look up at him with sultry eyes.

"Miguel..." you whispered in defeat as you gave in to the attraction and tension between the two of you.

In a matter of seconds, his lips came crashing down against yours so roughly it nearly knocked you over. But he caught you immediately by wrapping his strong arms around your waist and pulling you close to his broad chest.

It took a moment for your tongues to find a rhythm because of his fangs occasionally bumping into your more-so-normal teeth. Despite the hassle, the two of you never broke the intimate kiss, no matter how many tooth-to-fang collisions you had.

As his lips and tongue worked their magic with yours, his hands explored your body desperately and darted from place to place as if he were too excited to focus on one part to touch.

Miguel felt along the curve of your waist and hips where he could grip onto the softness of your love handles. He loved the way you writhed under his fingertips due to how sensitive to touch you had become.

But if we're being completely honest he was the same tense mess in the palm of your hands while your lips moved together in sync. "Jump for me, Princesa." he muttered breathlessly after placing his large hands on the backs of your thighs to support you.

Without any hesitation, you did as he said. This allowed him to carry you over to his desk where his lips met with yours once again, leading to another make-out session.

And even though Miguel was slowly falling in love with the way you tasted, he couldn't help but want more as the bulge in his suit grew tighter and tighter to the point of being uncomfortable. I mean it wasn't his suit's fault.

It's not like they're made for getting hard on's during battle.

You knew how he felt though, just in a different way.

You yourself were squirming at the slickness building between your thighs and the tight black and pink suit you were wearing wasn't helping with the friction at all.

Growing impatient, Miguel lowered you to your feet and broke the kiss, "What're you-" before you could finish your question he was bending you over the desk.

"Don't get mad at me for this." His words were followed by the sound of his claws extending and then, rip!

In the blink of an eye, he tore open the back of your suit effortlessly, your leggings and underwear facing the same fate soon after.

"Miguel!" You let out a frustrated groan. What were you supposed to tell your Aunt May who made that suit for you? Or any of the other spider people out those doors when you walk out with a Miguel-sized tear on your behind?

"¡Cállate la boca." he cursed while disassembling his suit so that he is left in nothing but the pair of grey sweatpants and black boxers he always wore underneath.

No shirt though just because.

You hated the fact he continued to insult you in Spanish but made little to no protests because of how badly you wanted him right now. At the sound of his shuffling clothing, you turned your head back to get a glance at his glory since you have never seen him without his suit on.

The sight alone was nearly enough to make you orgasm on the spot.

His entire torso is covered in muscles and his skin is glistening due to the thin layer of sweat building upon it. He is even more beautiful under that tech-ridden suit of his.

But as your eyes lingered lower and lower, you couldn't help but gulp at the length and thickness of his erect cock in his hand being loosely pumped and prepped.

Miguel's eyes meet yours, allowing you to watch as they flicker between their usual shade of brown and deep blood red as if he's fighting to stay composed.

Struggling to maintain patience yourself, you squeezed your thighs together and pushed your hips back towards his. With a low growl of desperation, Miguel glided the veiny shaft of his cock between your folds and against your pulsating clit to collect the slick wetness.

"Tell me what you want, Princesa." he ordered as he repeated the teasing motion and caused you to whimper into the palm of your hand.

You both knew any and all noise made would echo off the walls and out into the rest of the building, but that didn't stop Miguel from milking every sound he could out of you while taunting your needy cunt.

Holding back a moan, you lifted your head and looked back to him, "I want you to-" you halted to let out a gasp of pleasure as the tip of his manhood rubbed your sensitive clit just right.

"I want you to fuck me." You finished your request in a whine soft enough to resemble a whisper, your face flushing to a shade of red from embarrassment.

You didn't have much time to dwell on it because in just one second, Miguel had lined his cock up with your throbbing entrance and snapped his hips forward to shove his length into the heat of your pussy.

The two of you moaned in sync at the tight and hot feeling of your plush walls clenching around him, you nearly screamed at the stinging stretch of your body adjusting to his girth.

"Ay, coño..." Miguel growled deeply enough to trigger your spidey senses once again, but for some reason, this only aroused you even more.

The idea of pure bliss sending him into such an animalistic state made your stomach knot and coil as he placed his hands on both sides of your hips with his claws now out and digging into your soft skin.

"Miguel~" you whined his name eagerly, the pain of his nails stabbing you and the pleasure of his cock roughly slamming in and out of your burning cunt melding together.

At this point, your brain was mush from the sheer overwhelming feeling of being fucked by this man, so much so that you didn't even notice him leaning onto you and resting his chest on your arched back.

Your eyes fluttered shut as his plump lips peppered kisses along your shoulder and neck in sync with the movement of his hips, "You feel so good, y/n." Miguel grunted while his mouth fell agape, "I can't control myself." he murmured before suddenly clamping his fangs into the smooth skin of your shoulder.

You winced in pain and felt yourself becoming woozy from the multiple sensations. He was truly marking you as his own, something he had never felt inquired to do before when being intimate with someone.

You were different though, and the moment his lips met yours he turned feral.

He was no longer your boss Miguel O'Hara or Spiderman 2099. He was a wild animal with one goal in mind.

And that was to make you his.

"Mi...Miguel..." All you could do was moan out incoherent versions of his name as he pounded into you like his life depended on it and his wandering hands made their way around your body, savoring every second of you.

"You're being so good for me, Princesa. S'good~" he trailed off while removing his fangs from your shoulder and directing his focus to your breasts in his hands. He kneaded them roughly as his palms pressed against your sensitive nubs, adding a new sensation to the experience.

The desk beneath the two of you wobbled and shook aggressively, making enough noise to cover up your whines and his growls but not well enough to stop a passing Spiderman from hearing the commotion and triggering your spidey senses.

This was a different trigger than Miguel's behavior, so you knew you had to think quickly.

"Is everything okay in there?" A voice calls out just as you shoot a web to the door's lock and successfully stop the man from entering and catching the two of you.

Miguel's red eyes snap towards the door, a sinister smirk spreading across his devious face. You could practically see the light bulb go on over his head, he was planning something.

"Everything's fine...in here." he cleared his throat while slowing his hips to a more calm pace.

You let out a sigh of relief thinking you were in the clear, until you feel one of his hands linger away from your breast and down to your soaked pussy.

With wide eyes you grab his wrist, "Stop you're gonna get us caught." you whispered.

"Didn't I tell you to cállate?" Miguel took both of your hands and pinned them to your back at your wrists, "Hey!" you called out only to be interrupted from further complaints by a plaster of webs being shot over your mouth.

"Any updates on the Morales kid?" he spoke to the Spiderman through the door as if everything were normal while returning his fingers to your cunt and directing two of them to your throbbing clit.

Your brain nearly melted when he slammed his hips into you at the same pace as earlier. You couldn't even hear what they were talking about due to the bliss you were in.

The coil that had been building in your stomach was unraveling at a rapid speed causing your spongey walls to clench around Miguel's manhood so tightly he couldn't help but hiss.

Your body tensed and trembled as you reached your climax with a scream barely muffled by the webs of the makeshift gag Miguel had shot onto your lips. But you didn't care. You were in so much euphoria you forgot where you were, who you were, and what you were doing.

Miguel chuckled and continued his actions to guide you through your high until you returned to your senses, "Holy fuck, Miguel that was..." you panted, still incoherent through the web muzzle.

Little did you know, he wasn't done with you just yet.

He still hadn't finished, and there was something he had been wanting to do since you joined the spider society.

In one swift motion, Miguel pulled you up by your arm and pushed you onto the floor on your knees for him.

"I've been wanting to put that dirty mouth of yours to use for a while now, mi vida." he said while caressing your cheek, "Never had the chance until now." he continued before using his fingers to remove the web plaster from your soft lips.

Staring up at him you take his twitching and dripping wet cock into your trembling hands. "Go on, you got me like this so finish the job." he coaxed you with his gentle words and cunning smirk.

Opening your mouth as wide as you can, you wrap your lips around his shaft and curl your tongue under his tip. The second you do so, Miguel's knees buckle and his hand finds its way to the top of your head where his fingers entangle themselves in your hair.

Keeping your mouth in this position, you move your head in a slow and torturous rhythm, attempting to savor every minute of Miguel's groans and grunts. It doesn't take long before he is taking control of the situation like always and thrusting himself into your mouth at a more suitable pace.

Within seconds he is painting the back of your throat with his climax, a trail of muttered obscenities leaving his parted lips.

As the two of you are cleaning up and getting your stories straight, Miguel looks at you and offers you a genuine smile, the first you've ever seen out of him.

"So is now a bad time to ask you out for dinner?"

"You usually do that BEFORE what we just did. But sure, dinner sounds nice."

#miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #fanfic #one shot #female reader #across the spiderverse #spider man 2099 #spiderman smut #smut #not safe for minors #fem reader #miguel o'hara one shot #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #oneshot

[angel-of-the-moons]

Blood Moon

Marc Spector/Moon Knight (Spider-Man: Vengeance of Venom) x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Injuries, Mentions of surgery, life-threatening injuries, jealousy(?), arguing, Marc is once again back on his dramatic Angsty™ bullshit, some of Reader's past comes to light

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: Yeah I'm gonna try to finish this series before Halloween is over because vampires fall into spooky season purview. Also I haven't actually fully watched all of this specific Spider-Man cartoon's episodes so I'm making shit up as I go along. I really only watched the episodes with Moon Knight lol

Taglist: @badbishsblog

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

Pt. 2

Marc's mind was immediately consumed the moment the words left Peter's mouth.

You were hurt. You almost died. If it hadn't been for Princess Shuri just happening to be visiting Avengers Tower, and used some of the Wakandan tech she had?

You'd be paralyzed. At least partially. You would have needed intense physical therapy.

Because apparently when you were partnered with Spider-Man and Ironheart for a mission, the Green Goblin's glider was hit by one of her repulsors.

It sent the glider careening out of control, Gobby having bailed at the last second, leaving the glider to crash into you and crush you against a brick wall.

You had several spine fractures, crushed ribs, dislocated arm, broken collarbones, hell, they were apparently worried you almost needed a lung transplant before they realized your lungs could actually be saved.

You had to have a kidney removed. Apparently Thor himself offered one of his up to you, saying:

"She is an honorable young soul. She deserves to be in one whole piece!"

You had apparently declined once you were out of anesthesia.

Marc began vaguely wondering if he himself wasn't a match. Maybe he...

When he approached the wing you were in, he was stopped by a woman in a labcoat, her tag reading "M. Ross."

"I am the primary doctor here. Director Fury insisted on a sign in sheet for visitors to her room. He also has limited the number of visitors to one person at a time, to ease her." She told him without looking up from her tablet.

"Name, please?"

"Marc Spector." He replied.

"Is that with a "C" or a "K" at the end?" She mused, tapping away.

"C."

"Ah, okay, here..." She frowned, her brow creasing as she looked up at him from under her glasses.

"Your name has been blacklisted. I'm sorry but you cannot visit her."

"What?? Why the hell not?" Marc demanded, already feeling his blood pressure rise.

"Director Fury's orders. You'll have to take it up with him."

"Can't I just poke my head in?"

"No. Whatever you did to get blacklisted, it's probably regarding her. I won't have you emotionally or possibly physically antagonizing my patient. Please, go speak with the Director." She said matter-of-factly.

"Damn it! Fine." He grunted, turning on his heel and marching through the Tower.

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

It was storming outside, the sight of lightning flashing and rain pelting the glass windows of Fury's office providing the perfect background for the tense shoulders and rigid posture of the annoyed man as he stood with his back to Marc, who was seated in one of the chairs on the opposite side of his desk, the laminated surface reflecting each flash of lightning.

Marc instantly felt like a schoolboy about to get scolded by his angry principal. Very few things intimidated Marc.

Director Fury was one of those things.

And Marc had the sense that Fury was very, very, vehemently pissed at him right now.

"This wouldn't have happened had you been there to cover for her." Fury said, without turning to look at him.

Marc just knew the man had a deep scowl wrinkling his brow.

"Director--"

"She volunteered, Marc."

Marc blinked, and reeled his head back. "Sir?"

"Nobody else wanted to be your partner, Marc. Nobody else wanted to deal with you." Fury turned around and fixed him with a steely gaze his one good eye glaring at him with intensity.

"Black Owl agreed to work with you, she volunteered."

"I don't... understand."

"The partnership program. The initiative. None of the other younger heroes wanted to work with you because you're too intense, because your head is shoved so far up your ass you can only hear your own thoughts--"

He pinched the bridge of his nose and hissed out a sigh.

"I know you lost your daughter. I know losing her almost killed you, and set you back to boot camp reset mode. But Black Owl isn't a fucking Marine, Marc. Neither are you. Not anymore."

Marc shook his head. "Sir, I fail to see how this has anything to--"

"You think you're the only one who lost loved ones, Marc? She lost her family. All of them." Fury said coldly.

Marc felt a stone drop deep in his gut at this revelation.

"I... I didn't know about--"

"Because you didn't read her file. You accepted the partnership, and just assumed she'd fall in line like you would."

Marc felt himself shrink inside, his self-awareness creeping up as he realized that no... he never read your file. All he really knew about you was that you were some reckless, immature... kid.

Which wasn't entirely true, it's just that you had an overly exuberant personality that grated his nerves. Your... liveliness.

Maybe he... he envied you. Maybe he wished he could still feel that much... joy? When he couldn't?

For a long time, his only source of joy was his daughter. And with her gone it left some kind of... void, inside of him. A vast pit of just numbness and duty to take the place of his love and joy.

"She lost her family." Fury continues.

"Her powers manifested when she was young. Something happened. Something bad. She was the only one who was pulled from the wreckage alive."

If it was possible, Marc felt worse, now. But the worst hadn't been said yet...

Fury leaned over, pressing the palms of his hands flat on his desk.

"She killed them. Inadvertently mind you... but it happened. She was six."

Ice crept into his veins, freezing the blood into a red slush as it crawled through his body. He felt dizzy, almost sick at hearing this.

He really...

...really...

Should have read your file.

"I..."

"You can't see her yet." Fury told him, turning to look out the window once more, as thunder mutely boomed in the angry clouds.

"But--"

"I have some assignments for you. Nothing you can't handle on your own. Give her a few days to recover. She's in no condition for a shouting match that I know you two will get into when she lays eyes on you."

"I..." Marc's posture slumped, feeling guilty. "... you're... right."

"I know I'm right. I don't want to see your face for a few days, Spector. Come back when you're finished on the missions I have for you." Fury grunted.

"I... yes sir." Marc said, standing up, before turning to leave Fury's office.

All he could really do was wait. And read.

After all, hurting you was never really his intention.

But he also made a mental note to add a target to his list.

Somebody needed to pay for this.

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

Pt. 3: Link

#moon knight #marc spector x you #marc spector x reader #marc spector #my writing

[marvelmusing]

Billy Russo x Vampire!Reader

Happy Halloween Everyone!

(drabble under the cut)

-

“You’re getting in your own head, sweetheart.”

Billy’s voice is a smooth, casual drawl as he leans comfortably on your couch. His head tilts back, resting against the edge of the cushioned back of the couch. His heartbeat is steady and relaxed, a stark contrast to the nerves currently running through your body.

Setting your glass down heavily on the kitchen counter, you eye the curve of his neck and swallow hard at the sight of it. His shirt collar is unbuttoned, and you lick your lips, the glass of water had done nothing to ease your thirst.

“I have every right to.” You argue back at him, brows creasing as you voice your concerns. “What if I can’t stop? What if I take too much from you?”

His dark eyes meet yours, firm and confident.

“You won’t. Besides, I can hold my own.”

Your gaze falls to the space between you both.

“Billy, I know I don’t look it, but I’m a lot stronger than you. You won’t be able fight me off.”

“You assume I’d want to?” You turn away quickly, placing your glass beside the sink.

“Don’t.” Your voice is sharp, but you soon add in a softer tone. “Not tonight please.” Turning back to him, Billy’s eyes are already on you.

He leans forward, pressing his elbows onto his knees as he tilts his head aside. You’ve always been drawn to him. You and Billy are alike in ways you can’t even begin to fathom.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t tempt me into doing something irreversible.”

“I’m not afraid of you.” He states, and there’s a pause before he adds, “I have an idea.”

You raise a brow at him, prompting him to share it with you.

“I want you to hunt me.”

“Absolutely not.” You insist, despite everything inside you screaming yes.

Humans always wanted Billy for his pretty face, and his scent alone turns the head of every vampire in the vicinity. You had promised yourself to never use him in such a manner. You valued your friendship with him much more than your own needs.

It’s almost as if Billy has read your mind.

“You need to focus on your instincts instead.”

“What if I hurt you?”

“Isn’t that the whole point?” He teases with a smirk, and your eyes darken in warning, a low growl humming in your throat. Billy looks thrilled at your response, and he continues to explain, “Give me a five minute head start, if I can get to my apartment before you find me, you can just knock on my front door and we can do this your way.”

Your way. Sitting Billy down on the couch, ensuring that he’s comfortable, before settling into his lap, and keeping everything under control as you drink from him. Where Billy is safe. Where you can’t hurt him, despite the fact that the darkest parts of you protest fiercely at such an idea.

“And if I catch up with you?”

“Then we do it my way, where you take what you need from me there and then.”

Visions of Billy fill your mind. Slamming his back against a brick wall, down some dark alleyway, as you tug on his raven locks to bear his throat to you. Fangs sinking into his skin, blood pouring into your mouth. The sweetest blood you’ve ever smelt; you can only imagine what he tastes like.

“Billy-” Your voice is a near gasp, as you grit your teeth tightly.

“Come find me.” Your throat runs dry. Then he taunts, “If you think you can manage it.”

He eyes the glint in the depths of your eyes, and you laugh shortly. Stalking towards him slowly, his heartbeat leaping in your ears. Inhaling his scent, you can smell how excited he is at the prospect of a chase - and it’s been far too long since you’ve allowed yourself the pleasure of a hunt.

Sitting down on the arm of your couch, you reach out towards him. Tracing a single fingertip lightly over the side of his face, trailing along his jawline. Touch faltering once you reach his neck where you can see the arteries there, pulsing with every beat of his heart, voice a near whisper as you admit.

“I could find you blindfolded.”

His eyes are as dark as your soul, and they reflect the hunger deep inside you. The monster beneath your skin claws at your mind, urging you to take. Billy lifts his chin up determinedly, sealing his fate.

“Prove it.”

-

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo the punisher #vampire!reader #billy russo moodboard #billy russo imagine #billy russo x female reader #billy russo x y/n #billy russo x you #the punisher au #billy russo au #vampire au #spooky season

[syruppina]

BALDUR’S GATE - SECRET SANTA 2023

[GIFT #8]

Gifter: @confessionsofasexydilf

Giftee: @ghospar

Fanfic Title: On the Subject of Change

Amongst all the terrifying things stood one above all the rest--change.

Change, that fickle idea--promising riches and ruin, joy and despair, comfort and torture, all in one.

A godsdamned gamble that you're rigged to lose.

To Astarion, change was a familiar tormentor. He'd spent the first few decades of his life in relative stagnation--by all means, he grew, but he grew within the comfortable walls of the Upper City, in his cozy bedroom, surrounded by friends and family. He grew the way that a young elf is meant to grow, leisurely exploring the world and honing his skills. Starting off close to home with a role he played quite well (Astarion was notorious for arguing topics into the ground as a child--it felt only natural that he pursue something in law) was the logical choice, a chance to find his footing and make the city better before running off to spend his remaining centuries exploring Faerun.

But, even by age thirty, even after becoming a respected magistrate, even as a man who felt he had everything--Astarion had never truly experienced change.

His first brush with it more than made up for its earlier absence. There really was no stronger metaphor for change than death.

Overnight, everything Astarion knew was different. He was no longer a magistrate, rather a slave. He was no longer an elf, simply a reanimated corpse. He was no longer 'Astarion,' not really, because the ravenous hunger and consuming bloodlust and unimaginable terror were not things Astarion would have felt. The monster that wore his skin, gnawed with his sharpened teeth at the arteries of sewer rats, used his body to lure innocents to their deaths--that was something else entirely. And as time went on, what was left of Astarion shrunk further and further away into the recesses of his mind, allowing the cynical monster to endure the hellish torment.

For another two centuries, change made itself a stranger. The sparse moments that could be considered change were inconsequential in the end. A new 'sibling' once in a while. Hundreds of faceless servants coming and going. The implementation of some innovative torture.

Over two-hundred and thirty years of Astarion's life passed with only one true instance of change.

Now, within a month, everything he had grown accustomed to had been upended and thrown to the dogs. Here he was, sat playing the hero like he could ever deserve that, burdened with the lives of every godsdamned person in Faerun when all he ever wanted was to exist for himself. And he wasn't even getting something out of it! Even now, with their bloodthirsty drow companion, any little inkling of an idea to actually get power from this entire mess was shot down promptly and soothed with the image of a million adoring people whose lives they'll be saving.

With all that in mind, Astarion really didn't think his response to learning of a ritual that could make him the most powerful vampire to ever exist and get revenge on the bastard who look his life from him was something anybody could judge.

And yet, judge they did. As if any of these ignorant fools could even begin to comprehend the torment he had endured for fucking centuries--longer than most of them have even been alive--or understand how beautiful power is. The power to never fear another man again. Gods, he could have everything. And since his suggestions of controlling the cult weren't even humored, this was his only chance to finally get the life he wanted.

Following Raphael's grand entrance and subsequent exit, Astarion was pelted with queries and concerns and all these helpful little comments by everyone in the group, few of which were even leaning towards supportive.

It hurt, godsdamn it. The people who he was actually starting to believe cared for him crying out for 'the innocent souls'--as if, Astarion had lived with those so-called innocent souls for centuries and knew damn well they deserved what was coming for them--and how 'power corrupts,' and 'blah, blah, blah, Astarion, you villain'! Just more people trying to control every single thing he did, afraid of him having some power for once. Minthara had been supportive, at least. She understood more about what power really meant: safety. And by the Gods, she knew that power required sacrifice, ideally not of your own. But her approval did little to ease the sting of his other companions' words.

Gale's left the worst taste in his mouth. He displayed none of the outward objection the others did, but that little sad look in his eyes pierced him with an unexpected jab. Disappointment, as if the power-hungry wizard was in any position to be disappointed in him. Just because they had some nameless, confusing 'thing' going on didn't mean he had the right to police Astarion.

Just the same as his response to the ritual couldn't be judged, neither could his response to the pushback.

Call it a tantrum, outburst, whatever. Astarion knew damn well that he could've made a much bigger scene than the one he did, seethingly dismissing himself from the little gathering of saints and walking off into the safely lit but distant area beyond the camp proper. A small stream divided the haunting cluster of trees nearly in half, forming somewhat of a clearing in its wake. Astarion had come here to wash his linens early in their exploration of the Shadow-Cursed Lands, and it consequently became his refuge when he just needed to be alone. A large rock rested on the edge of the stream, the perfect height to sit upon and kick through the water.

Astarion removed his shoes with what was perhaps an excessive amount of precision, some subconscious attempt to give himself a bit more control over this daunting situation, and dipped his feet into the stream.

The flowing waters rushing over him still felt quite novel after so long spent barred from it, and while a night sky was far from new, the blanket of stars and the glow of the moon cradled Astarion in a comforting familiarity. How could the others ever understand how much this ritual meant to him when they never lived without the sun, moving water, control of their own bodies? How could they act as if they had any idea what they were asking him to give up?

A stinging feeling prodded at his eyes. He wasn't quite sure who he was holding back the tears for, sat alone here on the riverbank. Nobody was there to indulge in his weakness, exploit his distress, give him something to really cry about. Cazador couldn't find him here. His companions knew better than to try and talk to him after their earlier transgressions. It wasn't impossible for some brainwashed goblin to stumble upon him here, but the chances of that were infinitesimally small.

Astarion was well and truly alone, yet he still maintained a practiced neutrality on his face and bit nails into his palm to get out some of the pent-up emotions. All of this, every moment of his disastrous life, was spent performing for some audience, sometimes real and sometimes imagined. That's what his naive companions just didn't understand--power would mean that Astarion never had to put on a show for anybody ever again. He would be above that, exist so high up in the aether that nobody could hurt him. Gods, he didn't want power to be the second coming of Cazador, he didn't need a congregation of lunatic devotees and unwilling spawn, he just wanted to be free.

The sound of footsteps cut off all Astarion's internal musings, replaced with wonderment of whoever the hells had the audacity to talk to him now.

It wasn't necessarily surprising that Gale was the one to clear his throat.

"I wanted to talk."

"Oh, lovely," Astarion replied, words dripping with bitterness. "What about, the weather? The night is ever so clear, after all."

A tired sigh.

Gale approached, gesturing to the empty space beside Astarion with a tilted head. "May I?"

"You will regardless of what I say, so-" his hand waved flippantly "-be my guest."

The self-righteous wizard sat heavily on the rock, leaving a small but pointed gap between the two of them. Astarion was tempted to tell him to fuck right off and leave him to sulk, but frankly? He was too interested in finding out what this man thought he could say to make anything better.

"When everything is said and done, this is your decision, Astarion."

"Really?! Gods, thank you so much for the reminder," he interjected while Gale took a breath, frustration saturating his sarcastic tone, and fixed his eyes on a leaf beating against a stone below him. "For a moment there, everyone's helpful little insights made me forget."

A silence fell over them, perhaps granting Gale a moment to figure out if he could speak without being cut off again. When he did, his words were proceeded by another sigh.

"It takes a lot of strength to face a decision like this, what with the stakes being so high," Gale continued, adopting that tone of voice he always used when telling his little stories. The thought of having to sit through some fable sourced from Gale's youth made Astarion dig his nails even deeper into his palm. "It isn't easy. I've been in this position before, and I understand-"

Astarion saw red. He shot up from the rock, turning to Gale with an incredulous look in his eyes. "You understand?!" He yelled, hopefully not loud enough for anyone at camp to hear, but that was the least of his concerns. "Perfect, o great 'Gale of Waterdeep,' then that makes everything so much damn easier! Gods- you don't understand fucking anything. You've never felt the hunger, you've never been forced to flay yourself for some sick bastard's amusement, you've never had to seduce innocent godsdamned people so you could lead them to their deaths, you've never had to live without the sun! You can't even begin to comprehend the horrors I've endured, and, fuck!

"You're lecturing me? You had a goddess in the palm of your hand and still wanted more! I know you were preparing some eloquent little speech about how you sought for power and now you have some world-destroying bomb in your chest and need to die for fucking whatever, as if that's even close to what I'm facing here."

Astarion stopped talking for a moment to take a dearly needed breath, but the pause allowed all those pent up feelings to break through.

"I have spent centuries suffering beyond belief and all freedom would cost me is seven measly lives," he spoke softer then, fighting through emerging tears. His voice broke as he continued. "Do I not deserve that?"

Gale sat before him with an unreadable look in those brown eyes. He felt awkward then, standing in front of the composed man with a heaving chest and red streaks running down his even redder face, and shifted his weight.

"You do," he replied after a few moments of reverent consideration, a solemn look overtaking his features and seeping into his voice. "And you're right--I don't understand. Honestly, I… Well, I doubt I ever will."

He trailed off at the end of his statement, a silent invitation for Astarion to speak that was met only by attempts to steady his breathing.

"What I do know is that power oft comes with pain in tandem. That isn't to say you should drop the matter entirely and never spare it a second glance, but just be cautious. These pacts are rarely without their share of strings, and who knows how much Raphael divulged to you."

Gale looked at Astarion with furrowed brows, face awash with unsettlingly sincere concern. "I don't want to see you get your hopes up only to have them swept out from under you, nor to see you set aside all other alternatives in favor of this one."

"What 'other alternatives' even are there?" Astarion posited, caught off guard by his own raspy voice. "Go back to slinking around the dark, feeding on rats?"

"That will not be your life again," he stated plainly with all the conviction of a man who had already seen it all play out. Astarion was prepared to meet such naive hope with cynicism, but something about the way Gale was holding himself, the look in his determined eyes as they met waterlogged red eyes in turn… it wasn't hope nor speculation, not for the wizard. And, Gods, should Astarion have expected anything but?

He well and truly hadn't, and that was when it hit him.

The cogs turning in Gale's brilliant mind were nearly audible, and Astarion recognized what all those little mannerisms represented: a plan. And far be it from Gale to concoct a plan without delicate care, but this was different. Gale's eyes seemed to rush across the pages of every book he'd studied, his ears flooding with every lecture he'd attended, his brain processing every moment of his life prior to now with the sole intent of gathering any sliver of information that would help him on his new mission.

Tears prodded at Astarion's eyes once more, but for a markedly different reason. Gale shook off a bit of that distant, analytical gaze and continued speaking as Astarion sat beside the man. Phrases about illusion magic and protective spells and amulets and this and that, but none of it truly registered.

He cared. Gods, Gale actually fucking cared about what kind of life Astarion would have to lead when all of this was said and done. And, sure! This could be a marvelous deception to be revealed once Gale abandons Astarion the moment their little parasites are taken care of and he is no longer of use. Or, of course, Gale still may be reduced to only a memory at Mystra's behest and thus incapable of doing anything whether he wanted to or not. To the hells with it all, he could deal with those hiccups if they came.

Hesitantly, undead heart nearly beating out of his chest, Astarion rested his head on Gale's shoulder, an act that felt leagues more intimate than any of the times they'd had sex. The arm that wrapped around his waist with hesitation to match pacified the roaring fear of rejection housed within his mind, Gale's speech adopting a new kind of tenderness as he kept describing the possibilities. Astarion still struggled to tune in and tried anchoring himself on the sound of Gale's voice and the steady beat of his heart, and those words gradually took form.

"-ther scholars have astronomically vast collections that make up for the gaps in mine, so it will be a non-issue to obtain the necessary literature, and then we-"

"Thank you," Astarion cut him off once more with a hushed comment.

"-can easily start getting into- oh!" Gale stumbled over his words as he processed that Astarion had spoken, his mouth and mind alike clearly in a realm of their own and simply visiting the same plane as the rest of them. "I- no thanks needed. Really."

Endless possibilities flitted across Astarion's mind like embers from a gluttonous inferno. Amongst the possibilities were all the little things he wanted to whisper and yell at the same time, yet his lips stayed shut despite it all. Truly, what was there to say when every word carried so much meaning?

'You're an idiot for committing yourself to this.'

'Why weren't you there when I godsdamned needed you?'

 'Please don't waste your time on me when you can have so much.'

'I'm not some pet-project, and I certainly don't need your help.'

'Fuck, I love you.*'

But they remained unvoiced, making homes in the recesses of Astarion's psyche to hibernate until they could escape into the world. Silence had fallen over the both of them, but he couldn't tell if Gale's was the fault of the wizard's own contemplation or Astarion's interruption. Frankly, enough new information had been shoveled onto Astarion to last him a lifetime in this day alone, and he doubted more explanation from Gale would be any good with his tired mind. But this? Sitting next to Gale, the gap between them now a distant memory; the warmth of life and new beginnings and foolish, beautiful hope--the feeling that gods, maybe things won't always be so miserable--wrapped like a soft blanket around him; the quiet trickle of water and fluttering of leaves--it felt like a salve on the open wound that was his heart.

Nothing was guaranteed. It was a miracle whenever they survived an encounter, and things were only growing more and more dangerous as they trekked on. Gale was a painfully ambitious man who very well may just forget about Astarion as soon as they part. Gods, the ritual wasn't even off the table!

But in spite of all that, nearly in defiance of it, Astarion relaxed against Gale and shut his tired eyes. His eyes were kept shut even through a bit of wiggling on Gale's part that concluded in a gentle kiss amongst his snowy hair, and for the first time in a long while, he didn't flinch.

Perhaps not all change was so bad.

#BaldursGateSecretSanta2023

[waltwhitmansbeard]

can I get #6 with keyleth and percy if you're interested?

6. "Don't move, you're still hurt."

Greyskull Keep is in shambles. There is fallen stone and debris everywhere, and among it all, there are people, the refugees from Emon, the sick and the injured and the dying. Keyleth can hardly hear herself think over the din of crying children and calls for aid, but then, she's not in a mood to think, anyway. She's spent the last hour stumbling from person to person, offering what healing she can, bandaging burn marks and tying off tourniquets as best she knows how, and now she's collapsed in a corner of the great hall, staring at the chaos and sinking, sinking, sinking.

She thought the Briarwoods were bad, the worst it could get. She thought a town plagued by vampires and necromancy would be the most horrifying thing she'd ever see. She misses Whitestone now, wishes she were once again facing down a horde of undead rather than four fucking dragons.

Who is she to take them on? Some clumsy girl from Zephrah, no real experience, no real skills to offer in the face of a cataclysm like this. Her father had warned her that the world was far darker than anything she could have studied for, but this...this is too much. She can't do this, can't save the world, can't finish her Aramente, can't lead her people, not the way her mother could have—

Through the buzzing in her ear, a sharp cry catches her attention, tugs her up from the pit. "Help! Someone, please! A healer!"

She may not be good enough to take down dragons, but she can at least do this. She pushes her hands into the stone floor to rise to her feet, but before she can make it up more than a few inches, a hand on her shoulder is pressing her back down. "Don't move, you're still hurt."

She looks up to see Percy, face smudged with soot and glasses cracked, smiling down at her. She's about to argue with him when she notices for the first time, oh, yeah, her body is a screaming ache. She's covered in small burn marks and larger cuts, and she feels as if she's been battered around in a tornado. Still, she frowns up at her friend. "They need a healer. I have to go help."

"There are other healers here." He slides down the wall to sit next to her. "You need to rest. You cannot fix everything alone."

She pulls her knees up to her chest and hugs them. "I can't fix anything. Any of this. I just...I can't do it."

"Keyleth..." He gingerly slides an arm across her back to tuck her into his side. "Not a single soul is expecting you to fix a situation like this, not by yourself. God, we may very well not be able to fix it together. But when we try, we're going to try as a team. I know I can't do it without you, and I don't want to."

She rests her head against his shoulder. She could close her eyes and fall asleep right here, but she worries that if she does, she'll sleep long past the fall of civilization. "I'm really scared, Percy."

He tips his head atop hers. "Me too, Keyleth. But I'm very glad that you're here."

She finally gives in and lets her eyes slide shut, and for a moment, the din is just a little bit quieter.

#ask #Anonymous #critical role #critical role fic #cr fic #vox machina #vox machina au #my fic

[edelgarfield]

I love your durge characterization. Like. Their soul slowly growing in to occupy their corpse. Literally standing there like 🧍🏻 as their brain just spews horror at them. The scene where everyone mind melds and the gang is all horrified by the depths of their self loathing and they cannot understand why rlly rlly got me. None of them are equipped to deal w one another’s trauma but they want to, so badly, and it’s one of the things I rlly like abt the group dynamic and I loved the way you wrote it. Also astarion’s flashbacks were absolutely awful and devastating (complimentary, but I am brandishing a stick at you). You also captured the inherent grim hilarity of having an evil butler that encourages your violent intrusive thoughts. Like wow this day can’t get any worse [a little freak scampers up and tells you to disembowel your close friends and companions] fuck’s sake.

thank you so much!

it's funny you talk about their soul growing in bc I have Thoughts on that & plans for future fics that I hope to get to. but the short version is because of the circumstances around durge's creation i don't think they'd be made with a soul. like. why would they. they're supposed to be daddy's murderbot why would he give them free will. idk how souls work in the forgotten realms but if mindflayers don't have them i think it makes sense that durge might not either.

the group sees durge as confident & unflappable. they don't emote a lot bc they're constantly keeping the urge in check so they just assume durge is as stoic on the inside as they are on the outside. so getting in their head and seeing how much self-loathing they have just completely blindsides them. you find out the person you've been using for emotional support this whole time actually desperately needs it themselves. also i think their response just totally catches everyone off guard. like they have 6 people telling them "we think you're a good person" and they're just like "no, you're wrong." and then proceeds to get angry about it which is like. what do you do with that? durge is so convinced in their own badness that nothing can sway them otherwise which is like. trying to argue with a brick wall.

they are trying their best!! they care abt each other so much but no one taught them emotional regulation or healthy coping mechanisms so they're just throwing darts at the wall and hoping they don't accidentally poke someone's eye out

IM GLAD YOU "LIKE" ASTARION'S FLASHBACKS they're awful and uncomfortable i think it parallels the Urges. they both get uncontrollable visceral upsetting thoughts. they are both Mentally Ill just one is a magic mental illness.

sjkdlfjkdlsfj you are so right abt sceleritas fel every time durge is like "god damn it not this fucker again" also like the line abt him running all over the place to find durge is taken straight from the game so does that mean he's physically following you every where. solo campaign where you're just sceleritas fel trying to follow your master as they keep getting sucked dry by the vampire

#hilda talks to people #Anonymous

[casspurrjoybell-31]

The Consort's Fate - Chapter 4 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

Finn

Douglas' gaze follows the winding path of cobblestone, squinting as it disappears behind the blockade of lush foliage.

Most would choose something a bit more practical to separate themselves from the world, cement walls, bricks or even a mote, perhaps.

Mr. Primary was purposeful in his selection of protection, though.

It needed to have the appearance of seclusion without separation.

We couldn't appear to be shutting out the rest of the world, after all.

Besides, creating a wall of armor implies we have something to fear.

Something or someone to be protected from.

All of these silent messages share a single commonality, vulnerability in the form of weakness.

And that, I have learned, is a particular quality Mr. Primary undoubtedly abhors.

No, he will never admit he needs protection;,however, he has no qualms in advocating for my protection.

Everything is attributed on my behalf, everything from the excessive number of guards, the remote location and even my ever-growing list of rules and regulations.

'Believe me, Finn. There's nothing that would make me happier than granting you the freedom you so desperately want for yourself. I want it for you every bit as much as you want it for yourself. But you underestimate that demon. Your memories are gone, so you do not remember what evils unfolded because of him. You don't remember and cannot possibly fathom what he's capable of.  

If he ever got his hands on you, he would torture you, Finn. Maybe even kill you. All for the sake of destroying me. No, until he is gone, I need to keep you safe. Not just for me but for this kingdom, too. But do not fret, he will be captured soon enough. And when he is, I will have you by my side as we watch him vanish from this universe, forever.'

Mr. Primary's vow replays in my head and I turn the details over and over again.

It's no secret that his hatred for the vampire species runs soul deep.

Over the years, a few, straggling vampires were found.

They were in hiding but the Secondary guards successfully sniffed them out and brought them to our doorstep.

I never saw them myself of course but I gathered all I needed to know from the hurried whispers amongst the staff as they bustled about my chamber.

They saw them come into the fortress but no one saw them leave.

I don't know where they were kept or what happened to them.

I don't ask.

All I know is that he, the nemesis vampire, is still out there, perpetually slipping from Mr. Primary's grasp.

Based on all the stories, I've admittedly developed a distaste for this 'demon-like' being.

I despise him for what he did to me and moreover, that it's his fault that I'm kept as a prisoner in my own home.

Still... I can't help the sense of wonder that disbands my thoughts whenever he's mentioned.

He is the only being I know who has successfully outsmarted Mr. Primary.

That is no small feat.

What's more, he continues to outsmart him, each and every day.

At the very least, it speaks to his intelligence, no matter how loathsome and detestable he might be.

Douglas glances at his watch, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"We'll be leaving any minute now," he murmurs, adjusting his cuffs back into place.

"Do you have everything you need?"

I tuck my hands behind my back.

"I've had everything I need to leave this fortress for years. What I've been missing is the opportunity to do so. And you? Are you ready for the journey ahead?"

Douglas breathes out a sigh.

"I'm here to protect you, Mr. Secondary... um... Finn," he corrects quickly.

"Whatever that entails, I am ready for it."

Ever the diplomat.

The curiosity gnawing at the depths of my mind slips past its boundary line and travels at the speed of light before reaching the tip of my tongue.

I know it's not appropriate for me to ask questions about him.

In fact, some would argue it's forbidden.

Treasonous, perhaps.

But in the solace of the woods, I take the rare chance.

"Do you believe him to be as evil as Mr. Primary says?" I whisper quietly, glancing about us for any potential unwanted listeners.

"The vampire nemesis?"

Douglas stiffens.

Fear and angst permeate from his cells, though outwardly he shows no signs of the emotions within.

Despite broaching the dangerous topic, he must know I would protect him.

I'd throw myself at the mercy of Mr. Primary if it meant saving him.

"I came to this fortress as a guard to the Secondaries. As a guard to you."

Douglas selects his words with the same care one would use cutting circuits to defuse a mine.

"But I came after the war. I was never around when he was here. I've only heard stories... stories from the Secondaries and stories from the humans. But even those stories are scarce nowadays and the details never paint a clear picture. It's like trying to pinpoint a moving target. But here's what I do know. Mr. Primary is a warrior like no other. His instincts are subpar to none. He wouldn't protect you as fiercely as he does without a just cause. So, if you're asking me if I think the vampire is as evil as everyone thinks, my answer is uncertain. However, if you're asking me whether or not I think he's still after you, my answer reflects Mr. Primary's behavior. And that answer is unequivocally, yes."

[pencilxpaper]

Vampires and Mirrors

I was reading a book (which I might post about later) in which a character realizes they're a vampire when they look in the mirror and don't see a reflection. It was so jarring because the whole mirror thing has, for the most part, slowly faded from fashion. Anyway, thought I'd post the history of it.

"Mirrors Objects that vampires try to avoid and frequently seek to destroy. The assumed dislike of the vampire for mirrors is largely the product of fiction. Credit must be given to Bram Stoker, who had Dracula react violently to seeing Jonathan Harker's shaving mirror (he throws it out a window). The vampire knows that it will cast no reflection, something that is bound to be noticed in time. Folkloric reasons for this aversion stem from the concept that a mirror also reflects a soul, and evil beings have no soul to reflect. It has also been argued that the bloodsuckers actually exist in two worlds, that of the living and that of the dead. As it is in neither world completely, it will not be seen in a mirror. Bulgarians turned the mirror toward the wall when a person died to prevent the death of another individual should the course be reflected. In Mecklenburg there was an idea that the corpse, seeing itself doubled, would fetch someone to take with it. The mirror can also prove a useful weapon for vampire repulsion. The undead will be deflected momentarily, affording the hunter time to draw more formidable weapons." -The Vampire Encyclopedia by Matthew Bunson.

I have also heard it was because old mirrors were backed with silver and because silver was pure it wouldn't reflect something so evil as a vampire, but this would be only in places where mirrors were made with silver, which wasn't everywhere.

#vampires #vampire media #folklore