#'the story of these vampires will span centuries'

[slavicafire]

the months of research required just to write your silly vampire porn because you have historical accuracy disease, and to what end

#żmija gada #'the story of these vampires will span centuries' #'shit now I need to learn every minutia about these centuries and unfortunately the history of catholic church too'

[gatorlovebot]

more gaz vampire stuff because i can't stop thinking about but this time it's pricegaz x reader because i love writing poly 141 lol. hope you like it @ghosts-cyphera <3

cw: blood, descriptions of blood sucking

thinking more vampire gaz thoughts and in my mind obviously price was the one to turn gaz all those decades ago. they were in the army together and price, not being able to stand losing another soldier who he had gotten close to during combat, turned kyle.

price taught gaz everything, always kept him close, always wanted to be on the front lines with him, trusted him with everything he had. they had a very special bond. gaz was not shy to tell you about the intimate moments he and price shared throughout the decades they had spent together. he thought it was important for you to know just how much their relationship means to him.

it doesn’t bother you, the two of them having a bond you could never replace or replicate. price holds a special place in gaz’s heart just like kyle holds a special place in your’s.

it’s months into your relationship when you finally get to meet price. kyle had brought it up hesitantly, but you had no problem allowing price into your home for an extended stay. you were honestly kind of excited, having heard so many stories and seen so many photos of the handsome man, some from almost a century ago (that would never fail to blow your mind).

you feel fucked as soon as he walks through your door, the beard and the warm eyes just do it for you. but what really gets you is the way he cradles kyle to him in an embrace.

price is a perfect guest. he cracks jokes in his gruff, accented voice that gaz groans at but has you letting out a surprised giggle at the older man's crudeness. he helps with dinner, telling you that gaz has no excuse not knowing how to properly cook after he's kept him alive for almost one hundred years. and he has stories, so many stories spanning centuries, stories from before he even turned kyle. you're fascinated.

even after only a few days in your home, you three have fallen into a routine. dinners together are very important to price so you and kyle make sure to carve out time in your schedules to plan nice dinners for your esteemed guest. price cooks most of the food more often than not, but it's mostly because he refuses to let you lift a finger, playfully barking orders at kyle while you watch the pair from your spot at the dining table, sipping your wine.

dinner is delicious as always when price is left to lead the kitchen. it's almost cliche the way kyle and price sip at their red wine, the way it colors their lips a beautiful crimson until they inevitably swipe it away with the tips of their tongues when either one catches you staring. the air feels different than the previous nights the three of you had spent together. the food was homey and rich, settling deliciously in your belly. you had turned the lights down, leaving the room glowing warm from the candles you had lit in the center of the dinner table. 

the more you think of it, the more cliche the entire night has felt. you and two vampires drinking wine by candlelight, eating meat that has just barely been seared on the outside. but you can’t complain with the way kyle and price look at you over their wine glasses, sharing glances with each other that you can’t quite decipher. you feel yourself growing wet as the night progresses. 

after the dishes are washed and put away, the two men venture into the living room while you top off your wine. you come back to them on the couch, illuminated by the soft light from a lamp in the corner. you decide to be bold and insert yourself between the two on the cushions, feeling loose and warm as you sip from your glass and watch them share another look. 

kyle hadn’t fed from you since price’s arrival. kyle has gone longer without feeding from you, but you don’t know how long it’s been for price. “so,” you start, setting your wine glass down on the coffee table while you gather your words, “dinner was amazing, as always, but i was wondering if you two were still hungry?”

you try your best to keep a straight face at your terrible come on but your lips can’t help but waver at the way they look at each other, price raising a brow to kyle as if asking for permission. kyle takes another sip of wine before nodding his head just slightly to price. as price snakes his arm around your waist to pull your back against his chest you meet kyle’s gaze and give him a grateful smile.

being fed from was an experience like no other, it quickly became one of your favorite activities with kyle. it was an act of trust and devotion and you had to admit just how fucking erotic it was to watch him get drunk on you. price wraps a big, hairy arm around your waist, “kyle, she’s such a sweet girl, you better be appreciation’ her.”

kyle laughs, a small sound, as he sets his now empty wine glass down on the table, “i do appreciate her, don’t you think, sweetheart?” he’s taken your wrist in his hand, thumb rubbing over your pulse point. you know he can feel it underneath your skin. 

you know what he’s trying to get at, glad that you two are on the same page. “of course kyle appreciates me, john. that’s why i take care of him in return.” you responded, grabbing the hand that was groping the fat of your stomach and placing it around your wrist.

“ahh,” price remarks, “this where kyle does it?” he questions, big thumb sweeping across the thin skin. all you can do is nod under his intense gaze. he smiles, “the neck is quite cliche, isn’t it? and the thigh,” he rolls his eyes, “so fucking juvenile.”

you can’t help but giggle at him, knowing that you’ve allowed kyle to feed from your thighs once or twice. kyle sends you an unimpressed look before price is squeezing your wrist, trying to get your attention back.

“you sure about this, dove?” he probed, and at your nod, he added, “both of us?”

“yeah,” you respond, as easy as ever, “i trust you both.”

“you really got lucky with her, kyle.” john remarks, bringing your wrist up closer to his mouth. you see his fangs for the first time before he sinks them into your flesh, you shudder at his groan.

you feel soft lips kiss your other wrist before the sharp sting of teeth breaks the flesh. you close your eyes and let the floaty feeling wash over you. price pulls away first, laving his tongue over your skin to close the puncture marks he created. he laps up the remaining blood that stains your skin before giving your wrist a final kiss. you open your eyes and meet the red glow of his.

you get lost in them before price is grumbling at kyle, “enough, garrick.”

kyle reluctantly pulls away, lips stained red as he licks over the puncture wounds. he kisses up your wrist to the palm of your hand, kissing each fingertip. his eyes are half-lidded when they finally meet your’s, you two sharing matching dazed smiles. 

price chuckles behind you, using his arm to pull you into his lap. being off balance for just a moment makes you realize how woozy you are, but you don’t have to worry about it for long. “have something you can get for her, kyle?”

kyle doesn’t even respond before he’s off the couch and making his way to the kitchen. you two have your aftercare routine down and you hum to yourself as you listen to him pouring you juice and grabbing sweets from the cupboards, snuggling yourself into price’s chest as he runs his fingers through your hair.

#gator.writing #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price x reader #captain john price #john price x reader #pricegaz #pricegaz x reader

[y-rhywbeth2]

D&D Vampire Lore Dump #4

Weaknesses and Cures Featuring that pesky sunlight problem, and how to get around it. Overview of other limitations and weaknesses of their condition (running water, invitations, etc) and how to get around those, vampires being extremely annoying to kill and how to make them stay dead, and the four ways I know of that can cure vampirism.

OBLIGATORY DISCLAIMER FOR FIRST TIME READERS: D&D is decades old, spans five editions, several settings and hundreds of writers. One guy establishes a piece of lore, and then the next picks it up goes "nah" and writes something else. I collected info from four different source books, all from different editions, which naturally don't entirely agree on how vampires work. Lore never stays consistent and may contradict itself. You may see information somewhere else from a source I don't have that contradicts what I wrote here. If you read this and like some of this stuff but not other bits, take the good and ditch the rest. Larian themselves have not written BG3 totally compliant with some established D&D lore or the original games. If you want canon to work a certain way in your headcanons/fanfic, go ahead.

Feeding | "Biology" | Hierarchy | Weaknesses and Cures | Psychology

Sunlight is basically instant death and will kill vampires within moments of touching their bare skin. Even if vampires can walk in sunlight, vampires can't access their abilities while the sun is still in the sky. A sunstone, if left in the sunlight to "charge" take on an energy that will rebuff vampires with an effect much like sunlight exposure (but weaker) if they attack an individual wearing/holding the gemstone. This disorients them, cuts them off from many of their powers and inflicts a small amount of damage.

There are ways that allow vampires to walk in sunlight, although their powers will be disabled during daylight hours.

Liquid Night is a vampire sunscreen that will protect the wearer from sunlight.

Clearly, going off of BG3, the Netherese had magic that could do it. (Netheril, according to one story, was an empire whose initial magical foundation was specifically the school of necromancy, under the guidance of the priests of Jergal/Withers)

Fiends are happy to take/destroy your soul in exchange for the ability to walk in the day, as the Greater Vampire creating succubi can attest.

Vampires grow more powerful with age. One of those ways used to include that they became increasingly resistant to sunlight with age, and by the time they were 1000 years old they were fully immune to it. After almost two centuries of undeath, Astarion may be strong enough to avoid immediate death and this may be why he doesn't burn to a crisp immediately when the netherbrain dies.

Necromancers can create enchanted objects that protect vampires from the sun. One example being the Cloak of Dragomir in BG2.

They can also just keep to the shade or wear clothes that provide enough shelter to keep the sunlight from touching them. A deep hood or a parasol can help.

Vampires don't usually consider such things worthwhile, as they don't see much point if they lose their powers. They generallyhave no desire to be in the sunlight for its own sake as most vampires instinctually hate sunlight.

Vampires instinctually recoil from mirrors and hesitate to step in front of them. This hesitation will typically pass in seconds or moments. In 1e they had reflections, but their reflection turned the hypnotic properties of their gaze back at them or at least, they thought it could. After that they lost the reflections, and it's thought that the absence causes an instinctual distress for the remnants of the vampire's human psyche (reminding them that they're an accursed dead thing who's lost everything).

In a similar manner to their lack of reflection, vampires also do not cast shadows upon their surroundings.

-

Vampires who don't rest in/on their dirt-bed (usually a grave or coffin, sometimes a bed with a mattress stuffed with the appropriate type of soil) are destroyed. A vampire that can't get to its sanctuary before sunrise is utterly screwed. They tend to have multiple safe havens with prepared resting places, just in case. Vampires who will be traveling sometimes use a bag of holding, essentially taking their grave with them.

Some have suggested that the dirt dependency is actually just superstition and a vampire can sleep wherever it wants, but nobody's successfully convinced a vampire to take the risk of testing that.

-

As said previously, vampires are healed by negative/necrotic energy and harmed by positive/radiant energy (including heal spells)

Holy symbols can repel them, but the specifics can vary based on source. On the one hand there's one that says that the faith and belief in the holy symbol is what gives it power, and on the other there's one that says that the symbol is only useful in the hands of a priest. Only the symbols of Good and Neutral aligned deities have repelling properties. Evil clerics can still try to Command Undead however (the evil variant of Turn Undead - instead of repelling/destroying the undead you seize control of them.)

In terms of clerics and paladins attempting to Command/Turn Undead, vampires are susceptible to it, but are also the most resistant of undead, so it's difficult and risky.

-

Vampires are repulsed by garlic - it doesn't harm them and can't keep them at bay forever, but a vampire will hesitate before approaching. Some vampires also randomly develop other "allergies". Salt, rose petals, rice, mistletoe, lilies, small children singing, dove feathers… could be anything, really. It's generally linked to the individual vampire's own personality and beliefs. If they believe it should repel them then it may have warding powers against them.

-

Vampires will dissolve in bodies of running water like rivers or the ocean, because the running water forces them to turn into mist and washes them away. However, running water's only a problem if they're immersed in it. They can fly over it (be that with the fly spell or by shapeshifting into a bat), be carried over (bodily carried by a person, or in a boat, or by bridge, whatever) or use the water walk spell and just walk across like a basilisk lizard.

They are however, blocked from crossing a body of running water over three feet wide in mist form, for some reason. There's no answer for this, but I'd guess the vampire cloud picks up water particles and grows heavier, eventually sinking onto the water or something...?

At least 3/4 of the vampire's body must be submerged for it to count as immersion - and it must include the entire torso (the heart in particular must be below the water). The vampire must be held under for three minutes. It doesn't exactly kill them, but as their body is now thousands of particles distributed through the waterways, unable to reform, the vampire is effectively gone for good.

-

Vampires are also extremely annoying to kill. They can only be damaged with enchanted weapons or weapons plated with silver.

Upon death their body turns to mist and they return to their resting place, where they reform their physical body but are rendered vulnerable. A vampire can be paralysed by piercing their heart with a wooden stake... and then, sometimes, you get the unusual ones who need to be staked with a specific wood...! Once they've returned to their coffin the body must be damaged enough to be considered destroyed. Decapitation is a favourite method, but the main point is just to inflict as much damage on them as possible. Vampires begin to regenerate once they return to their coffin, and need to be dealt with quickly, hence the stake to pin them down while you start hacking them apart. Luckily for their would-be-killers they often wake up disoriented.

-

Vampires can't enter houses, or holy sites of residence like monasteries without permission, and can't enter sanctified graveyards of religious organisations. They can't enter temples, as these count as the residences of the deity worshipped there. A guest cannot invite somebody in, the invitation must come from a permanent resident.

Unless the owner of the house is the one who extends the invite, the invite only counts as a one time offer and the vampire needs to be invited again once it leaves the premise - so you can get invited in by a child, but for the ability to come and go as they please, a vampire needs permission from the parents/guardians in charge of the family and house. An invitation taken through use of enchantment magic or just plain coercion counts as a legitimate invitation.

They can also just take a third option and find a way to kill everyone inside from afar and then just walk through the door once there's nobody left alive to own the property. Also if the building no longer exists, for whatever reason (like if it mysteriously burns down), then they don't need an invite to get to whatever's inside. Or buy the building - if the vampire legally owns the house, and the residents are their tenants, then the vampire does not need an invite.

Public areas, inns, public graveyards and non-residential buildings do not count. Vampires can come and go as they please here.

Other people's graves can also count as privately owned residence upon which the vampire cannot intrude, hilariously. The final resting place of the deceased counts as belonging to them - providing they received burial rites. Vampires can however just animate the corpse and have it leave, at which point it ceases to be a resting place and they can do what they like. It's not stated whether they can also use speak with dead to ask permission.

---

There are four ways off the top of my head to cure vampirism. Most of them aren't cheap:

Firstly is the wish spell, which can be used to cure vampirism in one of two ways:

Using the spell to rewrite reality. You force reality to bend to your will and turn the vampire into a living being. Using wish this way is extremely taxing on the caster and may harm them permanently. They will basically be bedridden for a given amount of time and there's something around a one in three chance that you'll never be able to cast the spell again.

In its 5e variant, wish can replicate the effect of any spell below 8th level (including resurrection) while ignoring all the requirements of the spell itself.

Next up is divine intervention. Deities can remove vampirism, though the extent and conditions may be limited by their portfolio.

Amaunator (the ancient Netherese sun god, precursor to Lathander) had a temple over in Amn. You have to take the vampire and the heart of the vampire who turned them to the statue of the ancient sun god in an abandoned temple, place the vampire in the arms of the statue with the heart and it completes a ritual that restores them to life. This was part of a quest in Baldur's Gate 2 where your love interest (who may have been Jaheira) was turned into a vampire and needed curing.

Eldath, a minor goddess of peace, has also been known to restore some level of mortal life to unhappy vampires.

And then resurrection spells. The time limit on resurrection exists because when calling a soul back to its body there are numerous obstacles.

The body needs to be in a state fit to go on living. If it's too damaged or decayed putting the soul back is a waste of time.

The soul must be both willing and able to return. It has to still exist, to start with. If the soul has a new life it probably can't be recovered (be that by being sent back to the material plane for reincarnation in another life, or remade as a fiend or celestial). If the soul has been absorbed by their deity or into the fabric of the planes it can't be recovered. If the soul has been destroyed then you're shit out of luck.

The longer the target has been dead, the more likely the above scenarios are true and that the spell will fail. Also restoring a body and calling a soul from across the planes is extremely powerful, taxing magic that's hard to pull off, which makes it harder to succeed. Hence the time limit.

Vampires have the advantage that their body is perfectly preserved and intact and the soul is still on the material plane, and there's an argument to be made that this makes them resurrect-able.

Greater vampires are not resurrect-able as their soul is either annihilated or has been taken to the Lower Planes and tortured until the person has been turned into one of two varieties of barely sentient blobs of rancid flesh trapped in eternal agony. Wish may still work, but it may have a 50/50 chance of failure.

There's also the elven High Magic spell Gift of Life, which as it says on the tin, restores an undead being back to life. The catch with this one is that knowledge of high magic is dying out, so finding an elven archmage who can and will cast it on you is extremely difficult and probably involves a lot of favours and proving yourself.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion ancunin #excuse me while I have flashbacks to the vampire crypts in BG2 #Cazador you're such a fucking disappointment of a vampire villain #WotC DE-NERF THE VAMPIRES #Half of playing D&D is arguing about the Rules As Written VS The Spirit of The Rules

[expectiations]

Thinking of how "left me like a book on a shelf" is from River's POV and therefore does not mean it is the entirety of the story much like how "the Doctor does not and has never loved me" was uttered from a River who was grieving.

Like the Doctor could have spent a long time putting the TARDIS in stationary orbit around the Library. The Doctor could have puttered about with the Library from years before it was shut down to ensure that everything would go smoothly while doing his best not to change a single thing. And on days when it is too hard, he just stares at the Library from his perch on the TARDIS door. Waiting, hoping, thinking. Trying to find a way out for her. For them.

And he does!

He finds a hundred ways to get her out of the data core. But...something always goes wrong. It's somehow never good enough. She's back, but she's not entirely there.

So he scratches it out, slaps himself, and tries again.

And again.

And again.

But his plans always fail.

But they don't. Not really. His plans could work. Could have worked. His beloved Sexy would help him. She'd always help him when it comes to her Water. But he was too scared. Too frightened of failure. Because one single mistake. One. Single. Mistake. And she's gone. He can never get her back. Forever.

So he runs. And runs. And runs. Until centuries has gone by and companion come and gone. Until he met a younger, more alive version of her. And then they had Darillium. And oh the joys of wonderful joys, what a night that was.

But things end. Even for him. They had to part ways again. Had to say goodbye. So he tries again. Picks up what his previous self had shelved. He tries. Oh how he tries.

But still. That fear exists. Is it worth it? Can he finally accomplish what he'd started a literal lifetime ago?

(He doesn't.)

Off on another lifetime with a new body. He's a...she now? Oh and shorter! Wow. That's new! I wonder what Ri–

On the rare moments she allows herself to succumb to sleep she goes to their his her study. She takes a moment to take everything in. It's unrecognizable now – the study that once was theirs filled with warmth and laughter and-

Every single space was taken. Covered by plans of plans of plans spanning...two...lifetimes now. Sexy still kept it just as it was the last time he she had been in there.

Their His Her favorite throw was still where it was – on their his her favorite corner of their his her favorite couch.

Nothing had changed but everything had changed.

She curled up and buried her face hoping it would still smell of her (It did. They never knew how it worked but somehow her smell still lingered anyway. They thought they were hallucinating at first but other people had been able to smell it too. Sometimes they forget but Sexy also lost her too).

She was a he again. The same face they had four lifetimes ago. The same face who was the first to keep the memory of their meeting.

But wh- what? Why? How? Is this it? Is this the body that finally brings her back home? A fitting act really. He put her in there and so he'll also put her out of there.

But... she wasn't there. Nothing was there. Nothing but chunks of debris and ashes and smelted...somethings.

When he blinked his eyes open (when had he closed them?), Donna's worried face greeted him. He blinked again and blinked. Nothing changed. Everything has changed. He had waited for far too long. He had made her wait for far. too. long. He feared of failing her but now he actually has failed her.

Everything was bland now. Was it just him or is everything a bit...on the side of grey? Donna looks at him like he might break. (He won't. He's a Time Lord. Time Lords don't break.) Even Sylvia had taken to treating him a bit more kindly.

He goes off alone with Sexy. His return to the Noble-Temple (Temple-Noble) household becomes fewer and further in between. One day he finds himself in Venice. Wonderful Venice. His Pond and her Roman (who wasn't yet a Roman) had gone here. There were vampires. And running and –

River?

No silly. River wasn't there.

He blinked. And blinked again. Made sure the sky was blue and the clouds still fluffy white. But was that his leather jacket that just whizzed by past him? Wait. Hold on. That was... Was that? Oh no. It wasn't. It couldn't be. Did they? No. They couldn't have.

But of course, apparently they did. Because that was actually his leather jacket wearing self that just passed by him again(?) tugging along his very-much-not-dead wife along running from... Hold on. Why are they running? What- Who's shooting at her?!

#cues in iconic doctor who intro lmao #hi don't mind me. i'm just being my melodramatic PMS self #it's reaaally wonky i think but argh whatever just spitting out my grief and frustration. come to think of it i find words flow easier when #i am upset lol? hmmm what does that say about my high school self who used to write chapters with 1k as minimum. #it's difficult dealing with people who simply say river is just another one of the doctor's marriages so this is me dealing with it #i had trouble knowing where to stop and then thought OH why not put nineriver in but make it Post-Library River??? #lmao and i ended it there because i needed to stop (i have 3 – THREE – exams tomorrow) #dw musings #that turned into a sort of fic ish #doctorriver #doctor x river #doctor who #tia talks tish #river song #eleventh doctor #tenth doctor #twelfth doctor #thirteenth doctor #fourteenth doctor #ninth doctor #the doctor's wife #tardis #what other thing can i tag my sort of fic #tia writes tish #post-library river song #yowzah #i pond queue #11th doctor #12th doctor #10th doctor

[aristialamoniques]

Eternal Bond

For centuries, Y/N had roamed the earth as an ancient vampire, her existence marked by an unquenchable thirst for blood and an insatiable desire for knowledge. She had witnessed empires rise and fall, and her heart had grown weary with time. But when she crossed paths with Klaus Mikaelson, a hybrid with a tormented soul, she discovered a connection unlike anything she had ever experienced.

Y/N had always been solitary, content in her solitude as she observed the world from the shadows. But there was something about Klaus that drew her in—a magnetic pull that defied reason. When their eyes met for the first time, a spark ignited, and Y/N felt a flicker of something she thought long extinguished within her.

Klaus, too, was captivated by Y/N's aura, a timeless elegance that spoke of ancient wisdom and untold stories. He saw the weight of the centuries in her eyes, and a curiosity burned within him to unravel the mysteries that lay beneath her immortal veneer.

As their paths continued to intertwine, Y/N and Klaus found themselves drawn to each other, their connection growing with each encounter. They shared conversations that spanned the depths of history, their words dancing in the air like echoes of forgotten times. Y/N's guarded heart began to thaw, and Klaus found solace in the presence of someone who truly understood the burden of immortality.

Their bond flourished amidst the chaos of their supernatural existence. They faced enemies together, their combined strength an unstoppable force. Y/N admired Klaus's resilience, his unwavering determination to protect those he loved, even in the face of insurmountable odds.

Klaus, in turn, marveled at Y/N's wisdom and grace, the way she navigated the world with a quiet strength that belied her true power. He found solace in her presence, a respite from the darkness that often consumed him.

But their love was not without its challenges. Y/N's immortality made her cautious, her heart guarded by centuries of pain and loss. She feared opening herself to vulnerability, knowing that loving Klaus meant embracing the possibility of losing him to the ever-encroaching tide of time.

Klaus, however, refused to let Y/N's fears dictate their fate. He saw in her a reflection of his own longing—for love, for redemption, for a companion to share eternity. He vowed to break down the walls around her heart, to prove that their love could transcend the constraints of time.

Together, they went on a journey of discovery, exploring the depths of their immortal souls. Y/N learned to trust, to let Klaus into the deepest recesses of her heart. And Klaus, in turn, discovered a love so profound that it transcended the boundaries of his own turbulent past.

But as their love blossomed, a darkness loomed on the horizon—a threat that sought to tear them apart. A powerful coven of witches, envious of Y/N's immortality, conspired to sever the bond between her and Klaus, unleashing a torrent of dark magic upon them.

Y/N and Klaus stood united against the onslaught, their love a shield against the forces that sought to tear them asunder. In the face of danger, they fought with a fervor fueled by the depths of their connection. Their powers intertwined, creating a symphony of ancient magic that lit up the night sky.

Yet, even in their triumph, the battle took its toll. Y/N found herself weakened, her immortality waning under the strain of the witches' curses. Klaus, desperate to save her, sought out a cure, delving into the darkest corners of the supernatural realm.

In his quest, Klaus discovered an ancient ritual—a beacon of hope that promised to restore Y/N's immortality. With a heavy heart, he embarked on a perilous journey, risking everything to give Y/N the eternity they both desired.

Finally, Klaus returned, armed with the knowledge and power to save Y/N. He performed the ritual, his hands trembling with a mixture of fear and determination. As the magic surged through Y/N's veins, she felt the familiar surge of power returning, her immortality restored.

Y/N and Klaus stood before each other, their eyes filled with a love that defied the boundaries of time. The trials they had faced had only strengthened their bond, deepening their understanding of the true meaning of eternity.

In that moment, Y/N realized that love was the true essence of their immortality. It was the thread that wove their souls together, an eternal flame that burned brighter with each passing year. With Klaus by her side, Y/N knew that she had found her forever, a love that would endure through the ages.

And so, Y/N and Klaus continued their journey, their love a beacon in the darkness of their immortal existence. They faced the centuries together, hand in hand,their bond unbreakable and their hearts intertwined. They traversed the ever-changing landscape of the supernatural world, their love serving as a constant source of strength and solace.

Though the years rolled on, their connection remained unyielding. They witnessed the rise and fall of civilizations, the ebb and flow of empires, but through it all, their love endured. They became a legend, whispered in hushed tones among the supernatural beings who crossed their path—a testament to the power of a love that transcended time.

And as the world continued to spin, Y/N and Klaus found comfort in their eternal bond. They reveled in the beauty of the night sky, hand in hand, their hearts forever intertwined in a love that would endure for all of eternity. In each other's arms, they had found the true meaning of immortality—a love that defied the constraints of mortality and bound them together in an eternal embrace.

#x reader #imagine #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson #TVD #fluff #Love #Eternal life #one shot #oneshot #Joseph Morgan x reader

[pinkestlittlebutterfly]

Servamps are immortal, and lead lives that span far back into what we consider the fogs of history today. Every now and then, however, they leave tracks along the paths they walk, whispers of their presence that can be traced through the centuries, leaving an imprint on the world to this day. 

Sometimes this is intentional. Hugh was always conscious of images, and took great care to construct the picture painted of him and his kin in fables and stories and whispers on the street. To be a vampire is to be noble and elegant and a little bit prideful; it’s black velvet capes and charming, fanged smiles and hunting for virgin blood at night, for a dash of purposeful fear to keep away unwanted attention. He’s quite proud of how far his legacy carried. 

Sometimes the traces left are accidental. Kuro would never know, but there is a little patch of land in England, a cluster no bigger than a few, tiny villages, where old, weathered grandmothers still tell the young children the bedtime stories of their youth, of a cat and a wolf that walked together at night. The tales have warped over time, embellished with charming detail of the adventures they would have had together, but if Kuro were to listen in, he’d remember those walks with bittersweet fondness. 

Sometimes remnants of a Servamp’s life are plentiful, proof of their presence brought into tangible form, to be found and locked away centuries later in the dimly lit cellar of a mansion shrouded in secrets. 

Lily spent his immortal life among the noble and eccentric; men with money and time to invest in the beautiful things in life. He mingled with poets and painters, had his fair skin and gold hair woven into songs and sonnets still read to this day, and captured on canvas whenever he did not quite manage to escape another artist looking for a new model. He has been Adonis and Antinuous and Troilus; and once an artist whose advances he rejected named his painting Narcissus. Lily still gets annoyed whenever he lays eyes on it – it was not him who spent hours staring at his face; and he has never had much love for his own beauty.

#servamp #servamp kuro #servamp hugh #servamp lily #i was taking myself very seriously when i wrote this #but my dear friend puff rightly pointed out the inherent hilarity of lily being labelled narcissus by a wounded painter #especially since the guy can't even see himself in the mirror #so the painting is rumored to be cursed but the curse is just lily's bad mood whenever it gets brought up

[inexplicablepeas]

So I realized that I never shared my Blood & Gold re-read thoughts due to shadow-ban issues on the old blog, thoughts under the cut! It's long!

It was interesting to read this immediately after TVA, it really highlighted Anne's talent for developing distinct voices for her characters as the two books are so different in structure and voice. Where TVA is fevered and rambling with tonnes of evocative metaphor this is logically ordered and somewhat detached. This has none of Lestat's conspiratorial chumminess interspersed with catastrophic existential crises, none of Louis' melancholy poeticism, we're just getting straight facts from Mr Marius . So Marius' voice is a bit drier than a lot of the other narrators in the chronicles but that does feel correct and it gives the book a bit of a cosier and more chill vibe than most of the other entries. It's like story time with Marius. 

It's interesting that this one isn't framed as a book being written for publication but as a quiet and private conversation between a lonely guy and a stranger who showed up on his door step happy to listen to him. I think that makes sense for Marius, he doesn't seem like he would publish his life story, he's too private and he would probably have been more tactful land less honest about certain things if it was for publication - less interesting for us!

You do still have to read a lot of his inner journey between the lines nonetheless. He's not really telling you how he was doing day to day after he abandoned Pandora entirely (following an argument about how to deal with the emerging cult of satan worshippers) then spent centuries in Rome pretending he wasn't dying for Avicus' (and Mael's?) company while letting partying mortals have run of his house as he painted the walls subconsciously with dozens of Pandora faces... but you can imagine, he's probably not feeling great!

It was fascinating to get more detail on how he was recruited to be keeper of the parents and to see his tense arms-length relationship with Mael play out over the years. Eudoxia is a great addition to the story as brief as her time in it is and getting his version of Armand's story is very welcome (and of course interesting to contrast with Armand's telling). Getting more Bianca was also welcome, she's such a big presence in TVA, I liked getting Marius' perspective there. 

I've got some of the same kind of complaints I had with TVA about what was left out. I guess that structuring a life story that spans millenia is no easy task and it's inevitable that some stuff is gonna get left out. Anne probably didn't want to rehash the same events form different perspectives over and over again but I really was disappointed that the narrative doesn't touch on his thoughts on his reunion with Armand in QotD, the brief Night Island coven times, how Daniel came to be in his care (???), his reaction to Armand's suicide attempt (!?), how was it that he and Santino ended up being the team on clean up duty together for that anyway (???), his reaction to learning that Armand was in fact alive(!) and his subsequent turning of Benji and Sybelle.

Marius:

And Pandora of course, I hadn't read her book at the time of reading this so I was disappointed about how little detail we get on the centuries they spent together. You can imagine his motivations for leaving a lot of this stuff out, it seems that some things are still too painful to talk about and he is also telling a specific story to a specific audience here (to influence a particular outcome, perhaps? *squints suspiciously at Marius*) so it makes sense for him to brush over or leave some things out entirely but it's not always the most satisfying result for a reader that's already invested in these characters and their stories.

The framing device with Thorne is great, I can't emphasize enough how immediately I fell in love with this guy, this stoic but sensitive viking titan of a vampire. I found the final chapter to be the most exciting really, I guess because where most of the story is Marius explaining from his perspective why he's alone (apart from Daniel who doesn't count because he's too obsessed with his model cities, sorry Daniel!), it's all a foregone conclusion where we're heading and we know what happens to most of the major characters but once we get back to Thorne's contemporary POV hey, anything can happen! And thanks to Thorne, stuff does happen! He's kind of the MVP of this book. We also get a teeny bit of Daniel in the framing chapters at the start of the book and hey, it's nice to see him alive and still sassy, if a little worse for wear.

Overall I find it a pretty enjoyable vampire chronicle. I do love the lore of Anne's vampire universe, how rich it is both with historical details and with her own world building and Marius is, of course, very key to it as guardian of the parents for millennia, so I do want to know everything about him and I'm glad this book was written to give us more of his story. His chronicle of his very lonely life, caused in no small part by his own stubbornness and terror of losing control is sad and often frustrating but I did find all of it a compelling read. He's a very strange guy and it really is fascinating to get more of his perspective, even if he doesn't quite have the zazz of a Lestat or the poetry of a Louis.

#b&g thoughts #marius #armand #thorne #daniel molloy #pandora #eudoxia #vampire chronicles #vc memes #mael

[808airsoftbros]

Life of Two Vampire Queens (IU/CL)

Author: Just another AI-written story that I came up with. Hope you enjoy and do check out my Masterlist

CL's POV

I took a deep breath as I stepped away from the throne, feeling the weight of centuries of ruling finally being lifted from my shoulders. The decision to retire had been a difficult one, but with my one-year-old baby, Y/N, growing up so quickly, I knew it was time to focus my attention on him.

As I moved into a cozy beachside mansion, I found joy in watching Y/N learn to walk and say his first adorable words. But the realization quickly hit me—now that I was retiring, I would have to homeschool the little troublemaker. Oh, how naive I was to think it would be a simple task. Life with Y/N was a series of near-disasters and constant mischief.

No matter how vigilant I was, he always seemed to find a way to stir up trouble. One minute I would turn my eyes away, and the next, he'd be dangling precariously from the chandelier.

It was one restless night when I woke up, sensing something was amiss. My heart raced, but instead of panicking, I trusted my instincts. I gently slipped out of bed, careful not to alert Y/N as I crept through the dark house.

His presence guided me, his scent like a compass, leading me to his whereabouts. I found him in the kitchen, sitting on the countertop, his tiny fingers tracing the edge of a sharp knife. The sight brought forth a mix of relief and frustration. "Y/N! You naughty rascal," I scolded, sweeping him up into my arms. "You could've hurt yourself!"

In that moment, I realized that raising Y/N would never be easy. But, as I looked into his innocent eyes, I couldn't help but find his mischief amusing. Life had become an adventure, filled with laughter and the occasional scream of terror. And somehow, amidst the chaos, I found joy.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months as Y/N continued to explore the world around him. Each day brought a new challenge, a new opportunity for him to test my patience and creativity.

Teaching a two-year-old was no easy feat, especially when his attention span rivalled that of a caffeinated squirrel. I tried to instill knowledge in him, from basic mathematics to the beauty of language, but his mischievous nature often got in the way.

One day, as we sat at the kitchen table, trying to learn the alphabet, Y/N decided it was an ideal time to toss his cereal across the room, creating a sea of colorful letters. I sighed, on the verge of exasperation. "Y/N, baby, we need to focus," I pleaded, desperately trying to regain his attention.

He giggled mischievously, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Cherwee!" he exclaimed, pointing at a random letter on the floor. I laughed, unable to resist the infectious joy that radiated from him. "It's not 'cherwee,' darling. It's 'three.' Can you say that?"

Y/N scrunched up his face, contemplating the word. After a moment of silence, he erupted with a high-pitched shriek. "Thwee!"

"Yes, close enough!" I praised him, clapping my hands.

Life with Y/N continued to be a whirlwind of laughter and chaos. Each day brought new adventures, from building pillow forts to attempting to bake cookies (which ended up resembling charcoal briquettes). Y/N was a constant reminder of the joys and challenges of motherhood.

One evening, as we snuggled together on the couch, Y/N cuddled into my arms, a contented hum escaping his lips. I watched him sleep peacefully, his tiny frame rising and falling with each delicate breath.

In those quiet moments, I reflected on the love that enveloped us. Yes, Y/N was a handful, constantly bringing mayhem into our lives. But he was also the embodiment of my love, a tiny piece of me that I cherished.

As Y/N dreamt, I tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear, marveling at the beautiful mess he had made of our once orderly lives.

And in that moment, surrounded by the remnants of yet another adventure, I knew that the chaos was worth every scream, every giggle, and every hum.

Years passed, and Y/N grew from a mischievous toddler into a curious and spirited child.

Together, we navigated the ups and downs of parenthood, finding joy in the simplest of moments.

The beachside mansion stood witness to our journey, bearing the marks of our laughter and the echoes of our adventures. It continued to be a place of endless discoveries, where love flourished amidst chaos.

Author's POV

Lee Jieun, the newly crowned Vampire Queen, sat upon her majestic throne, adorned in her regal attire. Her royal duties took up most of her time, but there was one task that proved to be an even greater challenge: raising her two-year-old toddler husband, Lee Y/N.

As she presided over her kingdom, surrounded by advisors and courtiers, Y/N would cling to her leg and tug on her garments, yearning for her attention.

Jieun would force a smile, stifling any frustration that threatened to bubble up. After all, it wouldn't do for a queen to lose her composure in front of her subjects.

Her older sister, Lee Chaerin, observed this scene with amusement. With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she leaned in closer to her sister, whispering, "Jieun, you're doing such a fantastic job ruling over these bloodsuckers. But perhaps it's time to call in reinforcements. Why not let Princess Kim Taeyeon look after the little troublemaker for a while?"

Jieun considered the suggestion. Taeyeon was a trusted ally and a capable babysitter.

Maybe it was time for her to take a much-needed break from the demands of parenthood. "You know what, Chaerin? I think that's a splendid idea. Let Taeyeon have a turn at keeping Y/N entertained." 

And so, during a particularly intense negotiation meeting with the neighboring werewolf clan, Princess Kim Taeyeon took charge of the mischievous toddler.

She carted him off to the playroom, where toys and distractions galore awaited.

Jieun breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for the momentary respite. With her mind now free from the worries of hearing a tiny voice during important discussions, the queen focused on the matters at hand.

She deftly addressed each concern, displaying the grace and wisdom befitting of a ruler.

But just as she thought she had found her equilibrium, a shrill cry of longing pierced the serenity of the throne room. Jieun's heart sank as she recognized that unmistakable wail—it was Y/N.

She hurriedly excused herself and raced to the playroom, finding Y/N tucked in a corner, surrounded by toys he had flung to the floor during his tantrum. Her heart softened at the sight of his tear-streaked face, and she couldn't resist the urge to scoop him up into her arms. 

"There, there, my little one," Jieun cooed, gently rocking him back and forth. "Mama is here. Mama will always be here."

She kissed his forehead and carried him back to the throne room, where he nestled against her shoulder.

As she settled back onto her throne, she addressed her advisors, exuding a newfound determination. "From now on, I will manage both my duties as the Vampire Queen and my role as Y/N's guardian. I will show him the love and attention he deserves, regardless of where life takes me."

And so, Lee Jieun embraced the challenges of ruling her kingdom and raising her two-year-old toddler husband.

With a balance of patience, love, and the occasional interruption, she found a way to fulfill her responsibilities with unwavering grace.

As Y/N grew older, he became more accustomed to the courtly affairs, often joining Jieun during important meetings.

Together, they thrived, their unique dynamic becoming the talk of both vampire and human realms alike.

And so, the Vampire Queen and her remarkable toddler husband presided over their kingdom, leaving an indelible mark on the immortal world and proving that love knows no boundaries, even in the unlikeliest of circumstances.

"Yes! I shall conquer this throne!" Jieun proclaimed, hugging Y/N close, laughter filling the air.

#kpop #kpop idol #kpop gg #bxg #x male reader #kpopidol #vampire au #kpop vampire au #vampire #cl 2ne1 #2ne1 #lee jieun #jieun #queen

[lghtyear]

would you rp with the following ocs ?

the security guard . a man who works as night security for a cemetery . he can also see / commune with the dead . they’re basically his friends at this point . ( 26-28 , paul mescal fc . )

the undercover agent . a humanoid alien who works for unit , managing to slip under the radar and get intel . unfortunately , he’s fallen in love with the human race so now he’s actively trying to mislead his people . ( 23-25 , rudy pankow fc . )

the hopeless writer . a fantasy writer who is currently one of the most renown in the world ! he writes of a vampire family spanning for centuries . his stories are so believable , filled with such interesting plots and painfully real characters . he truly went with the idea of write what you know . ( 482 , jake gyllenhaal fc . )

#⁽ ᴿᴼᴳᴱᴿ ⁾ . . . ‘ in relation to: post. ⁽ ᴼᵁᵀ ⁾ #just some ideas!!! #lmk hehe

[avelera]

Something something... it means so much to me that Nadja of Antipaxos and Hob Gadling were both being peasants, were absolutely common as dirt, and became immortals after once being completely normal and even impoverished humans, the kind that make up 99.99% of human history but get a fraction of the stories compared to nobles or knights or clergy or any of the other "special" people who leached off the labor and lives of these peasants is just.... *chef's kiss*

It's important to me. It's important how very *centered* their background as peasants is to their stories, in the text. They never could have reasonably expected something this incredible to happen to them, unlike nobles or the wealthy who think themselves inherently special, like the kings and emperors who chase immortality because they believe it's their right. And I love that in both instances they love immortality. There's none of the angst around the enormous privilege of eternal life, they appreciate the luck involved with being randomly chosen to live forever. And yet, they still face a certain amount of judgement from upper classed, aristocracy-coded people and immortals after they gain immortality. Because at least with vampires, immortality has long been coded as being elevated to a certain noble, upper class, and WWDITS engages with that directly. Nadja and Hob are seen as upstarts for being there.

Hob gets judged by Dream for reveling in what eternal life has to offer. He's presented as simple for being overjoyed at the technological changes designed for human comfort that have emerged after his normal life span would have run out, wonders he never would have gotten to see ("What will you people think of next?" said dryly, almost disdainfully) Dream, a magical king by birth, has the temerity to judge Hob for the wealth he painstakingly gained over centuries (something he wouldn't have lived long enough to do before, because he didn't have generational wealth, he became generational wealth with this gift) thanks to the existence that Dream intended, openly intended, to be torture.

And likewise, Nadja is seen as a peasant by Laszlo's gentleman's club, such that he abandons England forever and the stuffy class biases he knew there in order to shield Nadja from their judgement and give her the life she deserved, in a place where she could thrive.

I just.... look, I promise you, nearly all of your ancestors were peasants, statistically. They were almost certainly, all of them, common with a rare few exceptions because if you go back far enough you're pretty much related to everyone. So having an immortal experience based on that, centered around not being born as special people, centered around being the peasants so often slighted by our memory of the great events of history, yet who were there, doing the work in nearly all of it, and those peasants finally getting the "representation" as an immortal character with that background, and how astonishingly rare it is even within the vast number of immortals characters is just... it means a lot to me that we have Hob and Nadja, ok?

#wwdits #the sandman #hob gadling #sandman meta #nadja of antipaxos

[typically-untypical]

The Saint and the Manipulator

AU: Vampires

CW: Biting

WC: 1,962

Date: 12/14/2023

"Look at him Jannie, he just looks cute enough to eat," Patton cooed, watching the man at the bar mixing drinks for other people. His fingers were long, almost spider like and his shirt was wide enough at the neck to show off his warm flesh.

"Patience," Janus hissed, drawing a line from Patton's neck to his chin. For the past few months he had been talking with the bartender, slowly getting him to open up to the ideas of the occult. It hadn't been hard, Virgil was apparently an avid conspiracy theorist and so when Janus started spouting off about Vampires, the bartender had listened with rapt attention. Everything working out in their favor, Janus was enjoying Virgil's company and Virgil seemed excited by the possibility of something so macabre. It had been a long road preparing the human, but everything was going according to plan. Janus had to move one more piece into play, Patton. His husband was a joy and a sweetheart, full of wonder for the world around him. Unfortunately, as a vampire, Patton had a thirst that couldn't be satiated. Unlike most stories, vampires weren't reckless killing machines, at least not all of them. Much like humans, they had the capacity to be evil or kind and though Janus didn't believe such labels were helpful, he did hope others understood, as a human he could be far crueler than he actually was. Patton, on the other hand, was far kinder than most humans Janus met.

"Oh I hope we get his consent, I would love to have him as part of our family."

Patton was probably a big reason why Janus was the way he was. Being such a kind and open hearted man, even as a vampire he wouldn't drink from someone he didn't have permission from. The first time he had drank from Janus he had begged, pleaded in a dark alley. Janus had only been so gracious to shut him up, but when Patton had finished drinking the smile on his face had been captivating. He had complimented Janus' health and given him advice for his future. It had been such a strange encounter that Janus had gone back again and again until they were linked. Vampires could get blood from any random humans, but it wasn't nearly as fulfilling as blood from someone bound to a vampire. If a human agreed, their soul could be intertwined, giving them the life span to stay by the vampire's side while also promising their health to the vampire. This bond was a neigh unbreakable, which meant one couldn't go into it lightly. Janus had given his life to Patton over a century ago, but Patton's hunger continued to grow. This was his way of helping his husband. He had been laying the groundwork to woo the bartender. He would later take on the role of manipulative villain, but he would do anything for Patton's sake.

"Last call, you two," Virgil said, walking over to their table and leaving the bar unattended. It seemed like most of the regulars had already cleared out leaving only a few stragglers behind.

"I think we're good in terms of alcohol, but might we have a conversation once you're off work? Patton and I are curious about a few things." Not a lie, not the truth.

"Oh, so this is the infamous Patton," Virgil held out his hand. "Jay has told me a lot about you, give him a few drinks and he actually can't shut the fuck up about you. I've been curious." 

Patton giggled, covering his mouth to hide his fangs. "You are a sweet talker. He has mentioned you a lot as well. I think he and I are going to have to have a stern talking to because he undersold how pretty you are."

Virgil blushed, heat and blood rising to his face. "Well, that's good to hear. I have to start cleaning the bar, but I'll tell the others you're walking me to my car, that way they should leave you be even after we close."

"Thanks Kiddo." Virgil raised his eyebrow at that but didn't say anything as he started walking away.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Patton grabbed Janus' leg trying to control his obvious giddiness. "He's handsome, and that voice, and that smell." Patton seemed to melt a bit and Janus wrapped his arms around his husband, pulling him close. 

"Yes, I'm aware he's pretty. I figured he was just your type."

Patton giggled, "Why because I like dramatic emos who hide their true feelings with sarcastic quips?"

Janus pretended to look offended as he put his hand to his chest. Patton only laughed, leaning up to kiss Janus' chin. "I love you," he whispered.

Janus would never admit that he melted a bit too, returning Patton's kiss. "You are too saccharine for your own good." He kissed Patton's neck, desperately trying not to be obvious about their love and affection for one another. He didn't need Virgil's coworkers to think they were sketchy, lecherous, or anything of the sort. They needed to be seen as a good couple, and good tippers.

It was less than an hour before Virgil and the others had the place cleaned up and shut down. He started walking toward them and the two got out of their chairs, putting them up on the tables like they had seen the others do. 

"So, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?" Virgil asked, after walking them both out locking the door behind him. "You're not going to proposition me into your harem are you, Jay?" He asked teasingly, causing Janus to roll his eyes. That wasn't what he was planning on doing but he also understood that it almost seemed like that was exactly what he was doing. He was asking Virgil to potentially be a blood donor for Patton for the rest of his life, but all in due time.

"Actually, I wanted to tell you a secret, Pat, darling, would you like to show him your teeth?"

Patton looked to Janus for confirmation before he opened his mouth, allowing his fangs to slide out. Virgil's mouth fell, and he floundered for words. Janus let him process, making sure that he and Patton were at least 5 feet away so Virgil could feel like he could escape. No one could truly escape a vampire, but Patton also wasn't a hunter.

"Alright, so those are either really expensive, or..." He looked at Janus as if hoping to hear that it was all a lie, that Janus was playing a prank. 

"I am fully human, but my husband..." Janus allowed his sentence to taper off, allowing Virgil to fill in the rest. 

"He's a vampire, and you... you knew?"

"That's why I was so knowledgeable about them." Janus pulled Patton into him and as expected, Patton nuzzled his neck gently. "You're not in any danger from him, Patton is very sweet and never drinks from someone unless he has permission. However, it is an experience."

Janus watched as Virgil swallowed, looking over to his car before taking a step forward. "So vampires are real? You aren't just fucking with me? You do seem to like to do that." Virgil countered and Janus nodded.

"An unfortunate trait of mine, but I'm sure Patton would be happy to demonstrate as long as you don't mind watching. It can get a bit... intense." There was a bout of silence, the three of them standing there waiting for Virgil to make a move. Finally he nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, okay. I need to see this to believe it."

"Are you sure kiddo? You don't have to believe if you want. You could pretend it was a bad dream and go on with your life."

At Patton's suggestion, Virgil shook his head furiously, something Janus also expected. Virgil had anxiety and though he managed it well while he was bartending a discovery like this would haunt him for the rest of his life if he didn't verify it was fake. Then again, finding out it was real would most likely shake him to his core. He would come to them more often for comfort and Janus and Patton would both be waiting with open arms; Patton because he was kind, and Janus because he knew it would be a way to get Virgil to trust them. No other reason.

"Alright, if you're sure." Janus felt Patton shift, hands gently wrapping around his face was Patton looked at him. "May I?" He asked in the sweetest voice. He always started this the same way and it felt like a ritual at this point. 

"Always," Janus whispered in response, getting to see Patton's soft shy smile before his head was tilted to the side. Patton didn't just sink his teeth in. He kissed at Janus' neck, sucked a small bruise on the crook to bring the blood to the surface. Then he bit down. It was a brief moment of pain followed by a flood of endorphins. He felt like he was floating, like the whole world disappeared beneath his feet. Janus reached out for Patton, clinging to his arms, fighting the sounds that desperately bubbled from his chest. He was partially aware that Virgil was still here, was still watching them and that was not the thing to think about right now. He moaned out the bartender’s name softly before Patton pulled back, kissing his neck and sealing the wound. He left only a hickey behind. 

Vaguely, he could hear Patton speaking and Virgil was saying something as well. This had been the risk of going this route, letting the two of them talk alone. However, if Patton and Virgil were going to fall in love they needed to actually like each other. He was being swept off his feet, cradled in the strong arms of his husband. 

"Let me walk you to your car. If you're okay with it, we can talk more tomorrow?" Patton was doing great. He had managed to get them an invite back. Virgil wasn't running away. Janus knew he probably needed to stay awake, to do everything he could to manage the situation, but his head felt heavy. Patton's venom was still coursing through his system, desperately pulling him into a relaxed state. Elevated heart rates meant more blood, but it also meant a higher chance of someone dying and though there were enough humans now that culling the population wouldn't have a dramatic effect, that hadn't always been the case. 

Janus had done the research, Janus knew what was needed to keep Patton safe, to keep him healthy. Janus knew why things were happening, but he couldn't access it all his brain was too fuzzy. 

"This hit you hard didn't it?" Patton whispered, "Seems like you enjoyed someone else watching you feed me." He sounded more lucid and Janus felt himself falling closer and closer to sleep. "I do really like Virgil, but I think maybe you like him a bit too." Janus felt a slight kiss on his forehead and the warmth of a blanket being pulled over him. "At least I hope you do. You deserve to have a life's companion as much as I do. I'd love to build a little commune where you could have more friends, more family." Patton pushed his hair away from his face before laying down next to Janus. 

"Rest, it's okay, honey. I can take over from here. You've done such a good job but it's my turn to care for you."

Janus finally relaxed, allowing sleep to take over. This was why he loved his husband. He was too kind for his own good.

@tsspromptmonth

#TSS Rare Gifts Month 2023 #Untypical Creations #Sanders Sides #Sanders Side fic #Fanfic #Patton Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Janus Sanders #moceit #future anamoceit #Fictional Biting

[chiropteracupola]

tagged (some while ago) for heads up seven up by @borisyvain! manythanks!

due to The Grunk, I have not been writing very much of late, but here are seven lines (written Some Time Ago) of the still-nebulous early eighteenth century vampire story for you...

By now the fall of the dark curling hair over the strong forehead was familiar to him — the captain was a man just past the prime of his life, and in that early autumn which brought color to his face just as the first bruises come to a ripened apple. So too his tipsy state was a treat to Marcellus, who had become accustomed to taking his own drink without that seasoning. To partake of Rowlandson while he was in liquor — that made another taste of the man entirely, and Marcellus found that he liked that new taste very well. And to see Rowlandson looking up at him with those great dark eyes, the pupils blown wide so as to encompass nearly the full span of the iris — that too Marcellus liked. He drew another draught off of Rowlandson’s wrist, licking the wound clean of spilt blood when he had finished, and held the limp hand for a moment, for even though he had finished with it, it was still very warm in his own. Rowlandson panted his way through a breath — it was terribly warm on Marcellus’s skin, and smelled harshly of brandy and iron. This time, it was Marcellus who flinched, and Rowlandson who grasped for him, with a feeble twitch of drink-numbed fingers.

and I shall tag... @dxppercxdxver, @tgarnsl, @baronetcoins, and @sanguinarysanguinity, if you'd like to join in?

#em writes stuff #oc time again hehe #blood of the ash-tree #pspspsps vampiretime enjoyers. the men are doing gothic Activities to each other again. #someday I will draw these two but they do not very much exist in my brain as People Who Can Be Drawn. #mayhap when I have more Brain Function I will make moodboards. that'd be nice.

[violettduchess]

for the angst ask (thanks for opening them btw) vlad and illness? he waited so long for his mc (gn) just to watch them slowly dying in front of him, their last moments and what that entails? I want to be crushed haha

A/N: Hello anon! I took a little bit of artistic liberty here because I had an idea so its not illness, but rather an accident. The rest of the request is still honored.

CW: death, loss

Vlad x gn reader

Word Count: 1783

A Pureblood vampire has nothing but time. It becomes their only constant, the one fixed thing they can depend on as the world around them evolves and changes. The flow of time brings mighty mountains to their knees and changes the course of rivers. It has seen man crawl, then walk and now, in the late 19th century, begin to run as technology makes leaps and bounds within shorter and shorter time spans. And one sure thing about time: it never stops.

How does one bear the weight of years and decades and centuries? Vlad has found a way. Something that fascinates him. 

People. 

He has loved them with a ferocity sharp and deadly. That their lives are so fleeting, rising like sparks from a fire only to blink out of existence and return to darkness within mere decades, is what makes them precious. Worth fighting for. And he has never loved a human, or any other being, as much as he loves you.

You were the one he waited for. The one who imprinted yourself upon him like a brand, your essence burned into his soul with a heat that never subsided as he waited all those long years for you. And when the time came, when you understood who he was and what you meant to him, when you returned those extraordinary feelings of love and desire, he understood the words Shakespeare had penned when writing his greatest love story: 

“My bounty is as boundless as the sea 

My love as deep. 

The more I give to thee,

The more I have, 

for both are infinite.” 

You gave his world a beauty far beyond that field of roses he holds so dear. Vlad’s heart holds entire universes of love only for you. 

Which is why, when you told him you did not want to be turned, despite the consequence of death, he never once questioned it. He had simply raised your hands to his lips, his claret eyes closing as he pressed a kiss into your skin, accepting your decision. 

And decided then and there he would dedicate every moment you had together to bringing you joy. He would show you the world and in return, give the world the gift of your smile.

Which is why you were in London, exploring the world’s largest city and breathtaking capital of the British Empire. You were staying at Claridge’s, one of the grandest hotels London had to offer, and swept up in the whirlwind of pleasures Vlad had arranged: an outfit tailored just for you at London’s most exclusive boutique, high tea at one of the oldest tea houses in the city, a boat ride on the Thames. As you disembarked, hand in hand, a young boy was waiting with a message for Vlad. A mystery item he had commissioned was finished and would he care to come pick it up or have it delivered to the hotel? His rose-colored eyes had gleamed, his excitement dancing within their depths and along the curve of his lips. He would come right away. When you had asked what this mysterious item was, he had simply smiled softly. You would see soon, beloved. Go, the carriage that would take you back to the hotel was waiting just across the street. He would meet you in the hotel’s salon for supper.

You parted, his smile still warming your heart against the misty London air and you took the time to watch his tall figure grow smaller and smaller as he walked with the young boy down the street, eventually disappearing from view as they rounded a corner. Your heart could not be any fuller, your soul could not be more content. Vlad was the key that unlocked the truth about love: it mattered, more than anything. He mattered more than anything. Loving him had transformed your world into something so perfect it could be called heaven. You were so lost in your starry-eyed thoughts, your mind floating in the clouds on a breeze of affection and anticipation, you did not pay attention as you stepped onto the street.

You did not see the carriage with its spooked horse barreling towards you.

You did not hear the shout of warning.

You stepped out into the street.

And your world went black.

It’s tucked safely into the inside pocket of his jacket, carefully wrapped in the softest black velvet. One look at the pin, a detailed red rose made from the purest rubies with its emerald leaves and curving stem, made by one of the finest jewelers in Europe, and he knew it was worth every cent. It was a work of art and he was proud of the design he had created. He wanted something unique, something custom-made that no one else the world over could have, a symbol of his feelings for you and a sign to all who saw it that you, like the rose, are a rarity worth remembering, a beautiful spirit worth marveling at.

He turns the corner onto the street where you had gone ashore after your boat tour, his mind running through the way he imagines you will smile when he presents his gift, a smile that rivals the sun in all its brightness. All thought however screeches to a halt as he notices the crowd gathered, blocking most of the way. There are police wagons and officers doing their best to keep people away from something on the road. Vlad passes an elderly man sitting on the filthy flat pavement meant for pedestrians, his dirt-streaked face blanched with shock, hands shaking as he tries to drink from a flask. He hears the mumbled words, repeated over and over to no one in particular:

“The horse stepped on a nail. I couldn’t control it. I couldn’t stop it. It stepped on a nail. I couldn’t stop it. They came out of nowhere. I couldn’t stop it-”

Uneasiness begins to slowly creep down Vlad’s spine like a spider descending on its silken thread. He was planning to walk around the crowd, his long legs swiftly taking him away from the buzzing and gawking of the crowd so he could get to you, his light, his love, and make sure you were ok. He will never be able to answer why he didn’t stick with this. Why instead of walking around the crowd, his feet begin taking him through it. 

Each step feels like the earth is trying to stop him, gravity is desperately pulling at his legs, trying to slow him. His feet feel like they are made of granite, dragging along as he shoulders his way through the dense, foul-smelling mass. Each beat of his heart becomes louder, the crowd’s murmuring becomes distorted. Fate has wrapped his heartstrings around her cruel fingers and pulls, forcing him to shamble his way toward a truth that will sunder his very soul.

He breaks through the throng. 

And sees you lying there, your soft hair touching the filth of the street, your head pillowed by hard, uneven cobblestones. 

Someone has thrown what looks like a shabby picnic blanket over your body, but Vlad can smell the blood through the fibers, through the grime of a London street. Your eyes are open, blinking rapidly, your lips trembling as you mouth one word. He recognizes the shape of his name.

“I’m here, beloved.” How he manages to speak through a throat full of thorns is a miracle, another question with no answer. He sinks to his knees beside you, feeling the dampness soak through his trousers, the hard stone biting at him. “I’m here.” You turn your head and the effort that costs you is evident in the flickering light of your beautiful eyes. He reaches out with a shaking hand, the movement slow as if underwater, and manages to brush your hair off of your forehead with infinite tenderness. His fingers are stained red with the blood trickling down your temple. He repeats the motion anyway.

Your breathing is labored and erratic but you refuse to look away, holding his gaze for as long as you can.

“I’m…..sorry.” Your voice wheezes, rough with strain.

His heart shatters into a thousand pieces. Tiny shards that embed themselves into his own lungs, that twist his stomach into a Gordian knot, that pierce his very soul and cling, barb-like and heavy.

“No, my love. My dearest one. No.” He smiles. It is a reflex, a gesture of comfort. His lips shift without him even conscious of it. Words continue to find a way through his blocked throat. Because he knows you need them. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” His hand, still trembling lightly, slides down, cupping your face, the one he has loved for ages, the one white as bone and red with blood. “I love you.”

A shudder wracks your body and your eyes close. For a moment you don’t breathe and panic seizes him, gripping his mind with hands of steel. No, no. Just another moment. No.

And then you manage another breath. Your eyes open again, seeking his. Your lips part and he leans down to catch your labored, whispered words.

“I’m….scared.”

The truth of it bears down on him. He has seen death so often that it had become as innocuous as the changing of the seasons. Spring follows winter, autumn follows summer. People are born, live out the time they are given, and then die. 

And yet your words have turned the world upside down. Death is no longer an abstract, cyclical idea. It is real. It is on that grimy cobblestone street, leaning over you, reaching down, seconds away from taking you away from him forever. Stealing every place you never went. Every kiss you haven’t shared. Every declaration of love yet to be spoken.

Vlad presses his lips to your cold forehead, his hand still cupping your face.

“I’m here, beloved. I promise, it will be okay. I’m with you.”

Your eyes are on him, but they are no longer focused. The flame of life inside of them is sputtering as the curtains slowly close on your mortality. Your breathing becomes rapid, uneven, louder. The sound forever burns itself into his memory. 

You draw one breath.

His soul quakes. Don’t go, beloved.

And then another.

Beloved……I’m scared.

And then you are still, sightless eyes gazing into nothingness.

……..beloved?......

And his world goes black.

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @redheadkittys @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @bubblexly

#ikemen series #ikemen vampire #ikemen vamp #ikevamp vlad #cw death #cw loss #vlad x reader #broken heartstrings #ikemen fanfiction #ikemen fanfic #otome fanfic #violettwrites

[mikelsonswifeblog]

A Royal Bond

In the heart of England, amidst the grandeur of Buckingham Palace, lived a princess unlike any other. Princess Seraphina, a descendant of a long line of royals, possessed a unique and powerful gift - the ability to see the future through vivid premonitions. But her life was about to take a turn she could never have predicted.

One fateful day, a mysterious invitation arrived at the palace, bearing the seal of the Volturi, the ancient vampire coven in Italy. Princess Seraphina, curious and adventurous by nature, decided to attend the gathering, keeping her gift a closely guarded secret.

Upon her arrival in Volterra, she was greeted by the imposing and enigmatic Volturi kings, Aro, Caius, and Marcus. Their allure and charisma were irresistible, drawing her into their world of immortal darkness.

As the night unfolded, Princess Seraphina's premonitions began to manifest. She saw visions of a world in turmoil, where her unique abilities would be crucial in maintaining balance among vampires and werewolves. The Volturi kings, captivated by her gift, decided to make her one of their own.

With the ancient ritual of transformation, Princess Seraphina became an immortal, joining the ranks of the Volturi. Her bond with the kings deepened as she shared her visions with them, helping them make strategic decisions to maintain their dominance over the vampire world.

But there was a group that resented her presence - the Cullens. Led by Edward Cullen, they were displeased with the newfound alliance between the Volturi and a royal like Seraphina. Jealousy and fear consumed them, particularly Bella, who saw Seraphina as a threat to her relationship with Edward.

As time passed, Seraphina's connection with the Volturi kings grew stronger, and she became the linchpin of their reign. Her premonitions ensured their supremacy over their kind, maintaining the balance between vampires and werewolves. In secret, she and the kings formed a union that transcended mere power; it was a deep and passionate love that spanned centuries.

Despite the Cullens' ongoing resentment, they could do little to stop the unstoppable force that was Princess Seraphina and the Volturi kings. Bella's obsession with Edward led her down a dark path, as she sought forbidden knowledge and alliances that could threaten the vampire world.

As Seraphina continued to guide the Volturi with her premonitions, she and the kings ventured into a future of eternal unity. Their love knew no bounds, and they ruled with a blend of wisdom and ferocity, ensuring a lasting peace among their kind.

In the end, Princess Seraphina's premonitions proved to be the key to a prosperous coexistence among vampires and werewolves. The Volturi's reign remained unchallenged, and their love story became a legend in the immortal world.

As for the Cullens, they never realized that their prejudice and hatred were misguided. They learned not to coexist with the Volturi, because they believed that their precious bella sawn deserve everything which is not true.

And so, in the world of vampires, where premonitions met immortality, Princess Seraphina, and the Volturi kings found their eternal love, ensuring a peaceful future for all of their kind.

#twilight #bellabashing #cullenbashing #the volturi #soulmates #supernatural #volturi kings #fanfic #fanfiction #volturi x reader

[nw-of-dark]

Vampire Clan: Gangrel

The Clan of the Beast, Animals, Bêtes, Outlanders, Outlaws, Wolf's-Heads, Beasts, Ferals

The Gangrel, a clan of nomads, maintain stronger connections to untamed landscapes compared to their urban-dwelling counterparts. They possess a profound affinity for the primal instincts of the Beast and excel in the art of fleshcrafting. Originally, they were among the seven clans that established the Camarilla, but as the Modern Nights unfolded, they grew disenchanted with the sect. Eventually, the Gangrel elders made the decision to sever their ties and forge a path as a predominantly independent clan.

Disciplines: Animalism, Fortitude, Protean

Bane - Bestial Features: In frenzy, these Gangrel gain one or more animal features: a physical trait, a smell, or a behavioral tic. These features last for one more night afterward, lingering like a hangover following debauchery.

Culture

The Gangrel, known for their feral and predatory nature, are considered the most solitary and unsociable among the Kindred. Preferring solitude over society, they exhibit reclusive tendencies, animalistic instincts, and a loose organizational structure. Their territorial and possessive nature is so intense that entering a Gangrel's domain without permission inevitably leads to certain death. While they are renowned as formidable warriors, convincing a Gangrel to collaborate, even with their own kind, proves to be an arduous and often impossible task.

The Clan's legends, myths, and methods of gaining prestige are predominantly passed down orally. Storytelling and the ability to captivate an audience hold significant social value, as gatherings in the wilderness offer little else besides entertaining one another with grand tales and songs. While most of these stories contain elements of truth, a satisfying and embellished narrative outweighs the importance of factual details. The Gangrel do not engage in outright deception but rather embellish the truth to appear more impressive, much like a cat fluffing its fur to appear more menacing. Honoring one's spoken word is highly esteemed, as the only barrier preventing another vampire from betraying you is their own sense of honor. This is not to say that socially inclined Gangrel cannot participate in the Jyhad. In fact, many of them derive some degree of enjoyment (or at least begrudging acceptance) from the grand masquerade of betrayal, conspiracy, and power struggles that characterizes much of Kindred existence.

The Gangrel also maintain strong ties with the Romani community and go to great lengths to protect and provide shelter for them, especially from other Kindred. However, the Ravnos claim a similar connection to the Romani, resulting in a deep-seated mutual hatred between the two clans that spans centuries.

Despite the Clan's rural nature, it may come as a surprise that even higher-generation Gangrel possess adeptness in managing modern technology such as cell phones, computers, and cutting-edge vehicles. Recognizing the importance of technological knowledge for survival in the modern nights, the Gangrel have adapted, and even the eldest among them possess the know-how to operate a microwave.

The Gangrel's emphasis on oral history and traditions, including tales of their Antediluvian progenitor, puts them at odds with the Camarilla's official stance that such ancient accounts do not exist.

#vampire: the masquerade #vampire #vtm gangrel #gangrel #clan gangrel #clans #vtm

[gorbalsvampire]

Hiya, nice to meetcha. Anyway… I was a little curious since mentioned something about your treatment of the Tremere and was curious about that little detail. How exactly are the Usurpers treated in this little corner of the internet?

Short version: they're not mages and they never were: they're alchemists. They stumbled into vampirism by accident and decided to take over.

The context is...

Well, first up I find the Tremere/Tzimisce/Salubri metaplot very overcooked. It's top level Antediluvian find-the-lady that has no relevance to playable characters, just impact. It's superhero comic plotting, nerdism run wild. I have a fundamental distaste for how the official materials present those three clans in particular and I'll take any excuse to knock them down a peg or two.

But also: I'm tidy minded, and I've been a development editor for RPGs, and as such... I loathe Thaumaturgy. I see a power set that works nothing like any of the others (instead of 1-10 linear progression it's a series of 1-5 scaling options, instead of stat+skill like everything else in the game it runs off Willpower) and a) I want to know why and b) I think that needs a rework, because for some reason you, the developer, decided to break your own rules at publication point.

b) is easy. You, the developer, didn't need to do that. Kill your darlings, especially in game text where your darling is adding brain wrinkles to the whole process of play.

a) is fascinating. There is some industry scuttlebutt that I can't verify, and it goes like this:

Before Vampire, the same-ish team worked on Ars Magicka. (RPG where you play Hermetic wizards and their associates caught up in complex inter-House politics spanning a fantastic version of early thirteenth century Europe. It has a neat verb-noun spellcasting system, and the cool then-innovation of people running multiple characters so they can switch out to suit the needs of the scene or story. It's a good game. None of this is Ars Magicka's fault.)

When Vampire came along, someone on the team, someone without whom the new game would be dead on release, folded his arms and said he wouldn't work on it if he couldn't port in his Ars Magicka character, effectively holding Vampire development hostage. Thus House Tremere became Clan Tremere, and the wizard spells received a whatever-he's-happy-with implementation, and we have all had to put up with decades of "there's a Path for that" largely because someone had a mantrum back in 1990.

As I say, can't prove it, and it would be outright libel for me to name names, but it certainly feels true based on how the Tremere were implemented into both system and setting.

Anyway, Bloodlines did it right - here's a series of wizard spell powers that all riff on the theme of blood in some way, and that exist in the same mechanical framework and structure as every other Discipline - and I'm glad V5 took its design cues from there.

I'm fine with Rituals existing for that toolbox aspect, I just think the game loses something when you have someone literally playing by different rules to throw around fireballs and lightning bolts and do teleports, for no good reason other than internal company politics from thirty plus years ago.

#vtm #vampire the masquerade #unpopular opinion #you (readers) will not talk me out of this btw - I have disliked Thaumaturgy for longer than some of you have been alive