#for every vampire family trying to blend in

[astralnymphh]

⤹ okay but on the topic of vampire!ellie, which one do you guys personally like?? has nothing to do with what i'll write next, just a curiosity + headcanons. MDNI 18+ enjoy this free vamp!ellie brainstorming content with a random side of nipple fixation!

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teenage dirtbag vampire!ellie in a modern realm who can't stand being in her parents suburban hell born house, tired of their cockalorum and urging for her to engage more in the vampiric branch of her family. attend the parties, go human–hunting with the other blood–ingesting addicts, try this, do that. it all irked ellie the wrong way, made her psyche boil, cause all she wanted to fucking do was you. she craves only your blood, your taste, the metallic ribbons pumping your lifeline was like a goddamn nectar to her. and you let her feed, because you loved her. you let your meat sack of a body replace her breakfast, lunch, dinner– first and final meal.

that's why you let her move in with you. cause you fucking can. now, every itty–bitty token of her life tangles with yours on the walls. pictures and awards, a manifold of knickknacks cluttering the window sills, even her clothes tend to blend with yours– an illusive invitation for you to wear her clothes without the question ever pressing her lips apart. you both are madly besotted in each other. no denial objects to that.

and, fuck, this version of ellie is hot. fitted tanks absent of a bra– pale brown pierced nipples erecting the thin fabric into a small mound. gray wash skinny jeans that fit her lean legs well, waistband cruising nicely under that peek of a v–line, fraying at the ankle hems that contrasts into those battered up converse of a similar hue. oh, and usually cloaks her shoulders up in a sable leather jacket– with your name patched in. a jacket, so prized, alwaaays winds up hurled to some isolated and cimmerian corner of your room, purely cause she lacks the care to hang it up whenever she returns home in a scramble, fangs unsheathing for blood. her knees would find themselves pressing hard into the mattress beneath both of you, centering a large gully of weight where her half–unzipped crotch and your butt meet, thirstily rutting to the point of numbing your clit through the hard denim of your pants. her zinc button just kept pounding that shit, keeping you spread wide. while dry humping you, she'd moan and groan hot on your earlobe, fangs partial hooking on the rim, "mhh– fuck n' suck, babe– can i? fuuck.." 'fuck n' suck' was just some made–up code for, well, it should be obvious. times like those, where she intends to fuck her pussy rough on you without remorse, whilst drying your organs of blood.

ohh, but i'll write that in detail one day~

gothic vampire!ellie who lodges high on a hill, deep in the mighty fathomage of her grandoise palace, steeples scaping high into the howling sky– torn asunder by a network of lightning above. you're nothing but meat and blood, princess, a feast inside regalia. every freshwater pearl, every satiny reflection of light off your dress, only made your flesh more supple in her fluorescent fern eyes. those lucifer–damned pupils though, well, let's just say you can't even measure the green pool of her eyes anymore. dilating, big black saucers, ballooning the milken white away whenever she snags a glimpse of your blood. that phantom heartbeat of hers races madly, mad of love for that color. for that glisten of liquid. so divine, she thinks. a gulp bolts down her gullet when within a measly foot of you, or, more specifically, a mere gate between the two of your noses. how else is she supposed to store her cache of sustenance?

yes, that's precisely what i'm hinting at. a holding cell. dusty and decrepit, rats abundant skittering the stone ground, and you swore cobwebs began to web themselves in your hair– now loose and unbraided. that brute of a girl would crouch on the opposing side, dangling keys on a loop sat upon her finger, ploddingly wagging like a swinging great axe. taunt, taunt taunt taunt.. is all she would skip about and do. slip into your cell quickly and play with you. kitty–cornering you and blocking you in her arms, cooing how terribly sorry she feigns to be, for jailing you up and treating you like meat. however, tides turn, and so do emotions. could it be, the dracula upon the misty cliff– has fallen in love?

turns out, witty princesses with a snakish tongue and spit to spare really turned her on. fuck, even you cursed yourself for rending your guard and feeling a magnetic pull to that hunk of a beast, clad in her midnight black, puffed sleeves and collar drawstring shirt. finely sewn black trousers and shiny black boots, curse you, for finding something about that hellishly horrid outfit so handsome on her. there's– oh, this particularly noticeable asset tp her garb as well. the black dye was nearing translucency, and if you loitered your vision directly on her chest long enough, caught in the right cosmic light, you could see that waxen bosom and her nipples, light brown contrary to her vampiric skin. haha, how humiliating it was when she caught you staring at them as she stood in front of your sat stature, being so brazen enough to ask, "something caught your eye princess? shall i strip myself of this, then?" whilst her hands mindlessly tucked under the loose hem anyway, wringing the fabric over her head and banishing it aside. "here, feel my dead heart–" swirled her voice, thrusting her hand out to grasp yours, cold as the ice age, her mitts froze your wrists and yanked them forth, pressing them flat against her breast and swiping her thumb across your contrasting warm skin, leavening with excitement as you fondle. she stows her knee on the bed adjacent to your thigh, whispering, so.. so, hauntingly, "feel that? no pulse, no life, not a spark lives within me, dear." and it was nothing vastly far from the truth. beneath her erect nipple, was no beat. eyes widening to a moon, and lips parting to steal simply too much air, you shudder. was it fear, you shuddered for, or arousal? that's a tale, for another day.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #⤹𓍢ִ໋aestras thoughts #vampire!ellie #lesbian #sapphic #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams x reader smut #tlou smut #ellie smut

[voidpetrova]

fading boundaries — jeremy gilbert x reader

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content warnings and genres: swearing, possessiveness, slut-shaming — fluff

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synopsis: jeremy never should've allowed himself to fall for you. he was a hunter, and it went against his beliefs to fall for you, a vampire. his jealousy and hatred only grow when he sees that you've caught everybody's attention, not just his

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the moon hung low in the sky, casting a gentle silver glow upon the quiet streets of mystic falls. jeremy leaned against a lamppost, his gaze fixed on the mansion that stood at the edge of the town. his heart raced, a conflicted maelstrom of emotions swirling within him. he had never thought he'd find himself in this position, torn between duty and desire.

it had all started with a chance encounter. an innocent moment that had ignited a spark he couldn't ignore. you, a vampire, had entered his life, weaving a complex tapestry of emotions that jeremy struggled to unravel. his heart despised itself for succumbing to feelings he'd been taught to reject.

jeremy was a vampire hunter, trained in the art of tracking and eliminating the supernatural creatures that prowled the night. it was a duty passed down through generations of his family, a legacy that weighed heavily on his shoulders. but destiny had a way of blurring lines, and now he found himself drawn to the very beings he was supposed to hunt.

his thoughts were a whirlwind of self-loathing and confusion. every stolen glance, every shared moment—each one etched deeper into his soul. the undeniable truth was that he was falling in love with you, a vampire, an existence that clashed with everything he believed in.

and what stung even more was the knowledge that he wasn't the only one who held your attention. damon salvatore, with his devilish charm and enigmatic allure, had a way of commanding the room whenever he entered. and then there was stefan, the brooding and tortured soul, whose longing gaze seemed to pierce through the darkness straight into your heart.

jealousy gnawed at jeremy's insides, a bitter taste that he tried to ignore. he had seen the way you interacted with the salvatore brothers—moments that seemed to play out like a dance of secrets and shared histories. it made him question his place in your life, a place that seemed minuscule in comparison.

as he stood there in the moonlit night, jeremy's fingers clenched around the pendant that hung around his neck—a symbol of his lineage, a reminder of his duty. but the more he tried to push you away, the tighter the invisible thread between you two seemed to become.

his internal struggle was far from over, and the path ahead was shrouded in uncertainty. little did he know that the intricate web of emotions and choices would lead him down a path of self-discovery, testing the boundaries of love, jealousy, and the blurred lines between right and wrong.

the salvatore mansion's grand ballroom was aglow with soft candlelight, casting dancing shadows on the ornate walls. it was one of those rare occasions when the town's supernatural residents and humans mingled under the same roof, an uneasy truce that brought tension to the air.

jeremy watched from a distance as the guests swirled around, their laughter and music blending into a symphony of decadence. his gaze shifted to you, standing near the center of the room, your elegance and beauty drawing the eye of everyone present, including his.

he clenched his jaw, a mix of emotions surging within him. tonight, he had told himself, would be different. he would keep his jealousy in check and try to find a way to coexist with the knowledge that he wasn't the only one vying for your attention. but fate had other plans.

stefan salvatore, his usually composed façade replaced with a smile that could charm even the most steadfast hearts, approached you. jeremy's heart tightened as he observed the scene unfolding before him.

“may i have this dance?” stefan's voice held a velvety quality that seemed to wrap around you like a warm embrace.

you smiled, your eyes meeting his. “of course, stefan.”

as you and stefan swayed to the rhythm of the music, jeremy's fingers clenched into fists at his sides. he had seen this before, the way stefan had an uncanny ability to draw people in, to make them feel like they were the center of the universe. but right now, it was you who had his attention, and that was something jeremy was finding increasingly difficult to accept.

he turned away, his breath coming in short, frustrated bursts. he walked briskly toward the balcony, seeking the solace of the cool night air. the night sky stretched out before him, stars twinkling overhead like distant, unattainable dreams.

“hey.”

the voice behind him made jeremy's muscles tense. he turned to find damon leaning casually against the balcony railing, a glass of bourbon in his hand.

“damon,” jeremy muttered, his tone guarded.

damon arched an eyebrow, his lips curving into a half-smile. “trouble in paradise?”

jeremy's jaw tightened, but he remained silent.

damon took a sip of his drink, his gaze fixed on jeremy. “you know, jealousy doesn't suit you, kid.”

jeremy's eyes flickered with a mix of irritation and vulnerability. “what do you know about it?”

damon's gaze softened slightly. “more than you might think. look, there's a lot you don't understand about this world, about us.”

jeremy's fists clenched again, his frustration mounting. “and what? you're here to offer me some kind of wisdom?”

damon's tone turned serious. “i'm here to remind you that life's too short to let jealousy eat you alive. if you care about her, you'll figure out a way to deal with it. otherwise, you're just gonna end up miserable.”

jeremy's anger was replaced by a mix of resignation and realization. he stared out at the night sky, the weight of his emotions pressing down on him.

as the party continued inside, jeremy took a deep breath, letting damon's words sink in. it was a battle within himself that he needed to confront—a battle between his feelings for you and the jealousy that threatened to consume him.

jeremy's frustration simmered beneath the surface, an undercurrent of emotions that he struggled to contain. he turned his gaze back to the ballroom, his eyes finding you still dancing with stefan. the jealousy that had been a constant companion flared into something more potent—a raging fire that threatened to consume him whole.

he clenched his hands into fists, his nails digging into his palms as he fought to regain his composure. the music seemed to mock him, the cheerful notes contrasting starkly with the turmoil within his heart.

“still having your pity party?”

the voice that interrupted his thoughts was familiar, and yet, it grated on his already frayed nerves. damon had followed him once more in order to keep an eye on him, his piercing gaze assessing jeremy's clenched stance.

his jaw tightened, his resentment aimed at both damon and the situation. “why do you even care?”

damon's gaze held a mixture of exasperation and something else—something jeremy couldn't quite decipher. he gave a casual shrug. “just thought you could use some company out here. you seem a bit on edge.”

jeremy's frustration bubbled over. “you're not helping, asshole. if you wanna be helpful, stay out of my business.”

damon's eyes glinted mischievously, his lips curling into a faint smile. “oh, come on, don't be like that. it's a party. let loose a little.”

jeremy's patience wore thin, his anger bubbling to the surface. “i don't need your advice, and i definitely don't need you interfering.”

damon's smile only widened, his gaze flickering to the ballroom. “speaking of which—”

before jeremy could react, damon turned away and strolled back into the ballroom. he seamlessly joined you and stefan on the dance floor, his presence commanding attention. jeremy watched as damon skillfully guided you through the dance, his movements smooth and calculated.

stefan's laughter mixed with the music, and you seemed caught between the two salvatore brothers, your eyes flickering between them as you danced.

damon's voice, dripping with charm, reached jeremy's ears as he exchanged flirtatious banter with you. “you know, you really know how to light up the room.”

stefan's response was equally playful, his voice laced with innuendo. “oh, damon, flattery won't get you everywhere.”

you laughed, your eyes sparkling with amusement. “boys, you're both shameless.”

damon's eyes held a challenge as he twirled you. “can you blame us? when a stunning girl like you graces us with her presence?”

stefan chimed in, his fingers brushing against yours. “it's impossible not to be captivated.”

jeremy's anger surged, a mix of jealousy and rage burning within him. he had to clench his fists to keep from storming into the ballroom. the sight of you being courted by both stefan and damon ignited a fire in him that he couldn't ignore.

the dance continued, each word exchanged between you, stefan, and damon stoking jeremy's fury. he felt like an outsider, an observer to a scene that was slowly driving him to the edge.

finally, the dance came to an end, but the tension in the air lingered. damon and stefan shared a knowing smirk, leaving jeremy seething on the balcony.

as the two of them sauntered away, he stood there, his heart racing and his emotions in turmoil. he had never felt so powerless, so consumed by jealousy. the night air did little to soothe his frayed nerves, and he was left grappling with the realization that the battle for your attention was far from over.

the moon cast a silvery glow over the deserted alleyway, the shadows playing tricks on the eyes. jeremy leaned against a brick wall, his jaw clenched as he watched you approach. the tension between you two was palpable, a result of the animosity that had grown between vampire and vampire hunter.

“jeremy,” you greeted, your tone laced with a mix of amusement and condescension. “what brings you to the dark side of town? looking for a quick fix again?”

he shot you a glare, his eyes narrowing. “just figured i'd see what you're up to. not like i've got anything better to do.”

you chuckled softly, your lips curving into a sardonic smile. “ah, the illustrious life of a vampire hunter. must be quite the thrill.”

jeremy's fists tightened, his irritation evident. “more thrilling than a never-ending existence, i'd say.”

you raised an eyebrow, a spark of challenge in your gaze. “at least i don't have to worry about growing old and wrinkled.”

he retorted with a smirk, his sarcasm matching yours. “yeah, immortality does wonders for the complexion.”

the banter continued, each word exchanged between you a careful dance of barbs and retorts. the animosity that had grown between vampire and vampire hunter was a thick fog that enveloped the conversation, masking the underlying currents of tension.

you tilted your head, your tone mocking. “so, what's the plan, jerm? lure me into a trap, perhaps? or maybe you're here to try and convince me to give up my evil ways”

his gaze held a mix of defiance and frustration. “i don't need to convince you of anything. your track record speaks for itself.”

you chuckled, your laughter like a cool breeze on a summer night. “ah, jeremy, always the charmer. it's a wonder you haven't won over every vampire in town with your winning personality.”

his eyes flared with anger, his patience wearing thin. “says the vampire who can't seem to resist dancing with every salvatore brother in sight.”

the mention of the salvatores seemed to strike a chord, your expression flickering for a moment before you masked it with a smirk. “jealousy doesn't suit you, little gilbert. but i must admit, it's quite the entertainment watching you try to keep up.”

he scoffed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “at least i'm not pretending to be something i'm not.”

you took a step closer, your gaze locking onto his. “and what's that, exactly? the tortured soul with a chip on his shoulder?”

jeremy's voice turned cold, his words a dagger aimed at your heart. “better than being a bloodsucking slut.”

you laughed, the sound echoing through the alleyway like a haunting melody. “oh, jeremy, you have no idea what you're missing out on.”

as the tension between you two continued to escalate, the words you exchanged were like a battlefield of wit and resentment. the lines between enemies and allies were blurred, the unspoken emotions simmering just beneath the surface.

and as the moonlight bathed the alley in its silvery glow, the clash of wills between vampire and vampire hunter seemed to echo the timeless struggle between light and darkness.

the low hum of chatter and clinking glasses filled the dimly lit bar, a familiar meeting place for the residents of mystic falls. the entire gang had gathered there for a rare moment of respite, a chance to unwind amid the constant chaos that seemed to engulf their lives.

you stood by the pool table, a cue stick in hand as you lined up your shot. the sharp crack of the balls echoed through the air as you sank one into a corner pocket. stefan, ever the gentleman, approached from behind, a smile playing on his lips.

“nice shot,” he remarked, his voice laced with admiration.

you turned to him, a playful glint in your eyes. “thanks, stef. guess i have a natural talent for handling sticks.”

stefan's grin widened, his charm evident. “oh, i'm sure you do. but the real question is, can you handle the pressure?” you bit your lip, locking eyes with your favorite vampire. “how about you give me some pressure worth handling?”

his laughter mingled with yours, the two of you sharing a moment that seemed to ignite a spark in the air. as you lined up your next shot, the flirtatious exchange continued, the chemistry between you and stefan undeniable.

jeremy, nursing a drink at the bar, watched the scene unfold with a mixture of irritation and jealousy. the snarky remarks you and stefan exchanged felt like a constant reminder of his own frustration, a reminder of the feelings he was desperately trying to suppress.

damon, leaning against the bar beside jeremy, chimed in. “looks like our friend jeremy here could use a bit of that playful banter in his life.”

jeremy shot him a glare. “i'd rather not engage in childish games.”

damon raised an eyebrow, his smirk never fading. “pity, really. you're missing out on all the fun.”

as the night wore on, the tension between you and jeremy seemed to escalate with every sarcastic barb. the energy was thick with resentment and a tangled web of emotions, a battle of words that had become a battlefield of its own.

elena, sensing the growing hostility, exchanged a concerned look with bonnie. with a knowing glance, elena approached her brother, her expression firm yet empathetic. “you need to talk to her, jeremy.”

he looked at her incredulously. “why would i do that?”

elena's gaze softened, her voice gentle. “because this jealousy isn't healthy, and it's only getting worse. you have to be honest with yourself and with her.”

jeremy's gaze hardened, his anger still simmering. “why does it even matter?”

elena's voice was steady. “because you can't keep pretending that your feelings for her don't exist. it's not fair to either of you.”

with a sigh, jeremy leaned against the bar, his defenses crumbling. he watched as you shared another flirtatious smile with stefan, the jealousy gnawing at him like a persistent ache.

finally, he approached you, his expression a mix of vulnerability and frustration. “can we talk?”

you turned to him, your gaze cool but curious. “sure, if you can handle a conversation without your usual bitchiness.”

he nodded, the tension between you two palpable. as you stepped away from the pool table and found a quieter corner, the echoes of the bar's chaos faded into the background.

the corner you found was dimly lit, the ambient noise of the bar fading into a distant murmur as you and jeremy faced each other. the tension between you was increasing, an unspoken storm of emotions swirling in the air.

jeremy cleared his throat, his gaze meeting yours with a mix of vulnerability and determination. “look, i know I've been an asshole, and I've said a lot of things i didn't mean. but the truth is—i've been struggling with something i didn't want to admit.”

you arched an eyebrow, your voice laced with skepticism. “and what's that, jer?”

he took a deep breath, his voice earnest. “i've been jealous. jealous of the attention you get, especially from stefan. i've been hiding my feelings behind snarky comments and sarcasm, but the reality is—i care about you. more than i should.”

your gaze softened, the walls around your heart beginning to crumble. his honesty was unexpected, and it touched something within you that you had been trying to bury.

“you know, jeremy,” you said softly, “it's not easy being a vampire in a world where vampire hunters exist. there's a constant struggle to reconcile who i am with what i've become.”

he nodded, his expression understanding. “i get that. i do. and maybe that's why i've been pushing you away, because i couldn't handle my own conflicting emotions.”

you took a step closer, the distance between you closing. “so, what now?”

jeremy's gaze locked onto yours, his voice steady. “i want to stop pretending. i want to stop fighting what i feel, even if it means admitting that I'm not as strong as i thought.”

a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “that's a start.”

before either of you could say another word, the tension that had been building between you erupted into a fiery passion. his lips crashed against yours, a mixture of longing and pent-up emotions spilling over in the form of a scorching kiss.

the world around you faded into obscurity, leaving only the two of you in that moment. it was a kiss fueled by months of frustration, desire, and a newfound honesty that had broken down the barriers between you.

when the kiss finally ended, you both pulled away, breathless and wide-eyed. the air was charged with electricity, the connection between you stronger than ever before.

“wow,” jeremy muttered, his voice a mixture of surprise and wonder.

you grinned, your heart pounding in your chest. “yeah, wow.”

the weight of unspoken words hung in the air, a promise of what could be if you both chose to let go of the past and embrace the uncertain future.

as you stood there, hand in hand, the possibilities stretched out before you like an open road. the complexities of your emotions were no longer a barrier, but a bridge—a bridge that could lead to something unexpected, something beautiful, and something worth the risk.

#tvd #the vampire diaries #jeremy gilbert #jeremy gilbert x reader #jeremy gilbert smut #stefan salvatore #stefan salavatore x reader #jeremy x reader #stefan x reader #damon salvatore #damon salvatore x reader #damon x reader

[xmalereader]

Bruce Wayne X Male Reader

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|| Masterlist ||

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Authors Note: The requests are finally coming in! I enjoyed writing this one out and tried my best to add as much demon facts as I could make up or find. I made sure that Bruce became a softie and tried to make readers and Bruce’s relationship sound special or romantic-ish? But either way. I hope you like it!

Request: I would like it to be by Bruce Wayne (the version you want) x male reader, where the reader is Bruce's boyfriend or fiancé but hides that he is a vampire or demon and that every night he goes out to consume blood or souls (if he is a demon) but that he only hurts criminals, and that during a patrol he meets batman (and if you want also one of the robins) and that they fight, but that during the fight the reader was seriously injured and that there bruce realizes that it is about her boyfriend/fiancé. || @apolo1808 ||

Warnings: Fluff, slight hints of angst, mentions of the bat family, language, Bruce is a softie, demon biology facts, chaotic friendships, mentions of marriage, Damien loves reader, platonic friendships.

Word count: 3.1K

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He was suppose to be in hiding, away from society and blending in with them instead of taking over them. He’s had family who were just like him, seeking havoc upon humans and torturing them for their pleasure. Not many of them were able to live with humans and found different ways to survive while others died off slowly due to the lack of souls that they consumed.

Y/n had been one of the few to survive, turning their hunger towards humans who, he thought, didn’t deserve a second chance after going after innocent people and getting them hurt. He’d only feed on criminals who lurked the dark streets of Gotham, brining fear into their eyes as they grew cautious of roaming the streets at night. Many would think that they fear the night due to Batman when in reality they feared the demon who lurked the streets, ready to strike anyone who crossed his path.

Y/n didn’t spend much time in the streets, learning how to survive on small amounts of souls and continuing on with his daily life with no issues. Their were nights that he felt guilty about keeping it hidden from his fiancé and family, afraid of what they would think of him if they were to know what he is. He was always waiting for the right time to tell Bruce about his abilities, but the right time went on for years to the point where he fell engaged to the great Bruce Wayne. He’d sometimes stare at the ring on his finger, feeling the guilt take over him as he continued to hesitate on telling Bruce the truth, knowing that the longer he drags this out the outcome could be worse.

He’d spent hours trying to figure out how to tell Bruce, not knowing how he’d react when he founds out that the man he wants to spend the rest of his life with is a demon who eats the souls of criminals. He’s known about Bruce’s identity of being Batman along with his kids too, which he didn’t mind. He knew that they were always safe and would come back home to him. But, the fact that his own future husband is Batman only made the situation even more complicated and continued to hold back on telling him anything.

During his own night routine he’d make sure to keep his face hidden, usually wearing all black in order to blend into the darkness as he hunted down criminals. He wanted to make sure that he wasn’t caught by any members of his family and so far he’s been smart enough not to get caught. He’d given himself a reputation that he was not proud of. Upon entering the cave he spots Bruce by his computer typing away while the rest of the boys did their own thing on the side. It took Y/n some time to warm up to the boys, when he first started dating Bruce he was nervous to know if they would like him not. He had gotten Dick’s and Jason’s approval in less than a few days, the two liking him at an instant.

Tim only took time since the poor kid was always busy with helping Bruce along with balancing his own schedule. He’d been around to force Tim to eat something healthy and drink anything else besides coffee to the point where he hid the coffee maker from Tim and told Alfred to keep him from leaving the house and buying any coffee. His relationship with Tim grew with the time they spent together, the two working together at Wayne enterprise.

The bond he struggled with the most was with Damien. He knew about his background and where he came from and for Bruce to openly accept his son into their home meant a lot to him. Their relationship was rocky at first as Damien ignored Y/n’s attempts at getting along with him. There were times where Damien would snap at him because he was ‘trying’ too hard or that he shouldn’t force a relationship.

Y/n didn’t give up. He continued to approach Damien even if the young kid grew annoyed he was always going to be there. Some could say that Y/n was often present in Damien’s life than Bruce, not that he was a bad father. Bruce was a wonderful man but he had his own flaws. It took months before Damien finally claimed him as family, growing protective over Bruce’s partner and always joining the man on errands. Everyone know that their bond was stronger than the others, but Y/n still loved everyone equally.

Which is why he struggled in the last few days with saying anything about his abilities. Pushing back on them as he provided fake smiles and reassurance. Spending his night hiding in alleyways as he waited for his prey, keeping himself hidden in the dark. He was doing fine for a few days without consuming souls, acting normal and doing his daily routine until he felt an emptiness in his stomach.

The sudden hunger was reaching its peak to the point where he’d have to head out and find a few souls he could consume in order to live for the next few days. He had planned to escape the manor tonight but, his plans were quickly cancelled by Bruce taking him and the kids to watch a movie together. Y/n had brushed off the hunger and joined his family.

He brushed the hunger away longer than a few days, going over his limit. His side affects were showing and it was becoming harder to hide each day: First, his throat felt dry. No amount of water could wash it away, next was his fatigue. He was growing tired to the point where he’d zone out during mid conversation whenever he spoke to Bruce or one of the boys. His third were his eyes, no longer their natural color but turning completely black. Once he reached that last phase he knew that he had to go search for a few souls he can consume.

Y/n spent his day packing up a small bag, clothes being shoved inside as he wore sunglasses indoors. It wasn’t until Bruce passed by their room, looking inside to see him packing his things. “Where you going?” Bruce asks while Y/n looks up and smiles. “I’m staying over at Susan’s place.”

Bruce paled, swallowing nervously as he steps inside the room. Bruce knew that whenever Y/n stayed at Susan’s it was because he did something wrong or wanted time away from his family. “Did I do something?” He asks nervously, watching his fiancé zip up his bag. Y/n tilts his head in confusion until realization hit him. “Oh! No, It’s nothing like that.” He approached him. “Susan has this friend who’s getting married and she was chosen as the maid of honor and was placed in charge of a few things. I’m going over to stay with her and help her out with organize everything since she’s terrible.” He chuckled out. “It’ll just be for tonight.”

Bruce sighs in relief, afraid that he’d done something wrong to upset him. “Sorry, I thought I did something due to being busy constantly.”

“It’s alright everything is fine, Bruce. I’m just gonna help Susan.” He takes his bag in hand and sighs softly, leaning forward to press his lips against his cheek before pulling away. “I’ll be back tomorrow.” He gives Bruce a small wave and leaves the bedroom, rushing down the hall and eager to leave the manor. His statement wasn’t a total lie, his friend Susan of a few years did need his help and he needed hers. He only had a few hours before night fall, giving him enough time to ride his own motorcycle to Susan’s place, her apartments located deeper into Gotham as he rode his way down the busy streets.

Upon arriving to Susan’s apartment he’s able to park his motorcycle inside the garage, collecting his bag and quickly rushing inside. He dodged neighbors using the stairs, giving them an apologetic smile before skipping steps as he runs to the fourth floor. He gives Susan’s apartment door a few knocks until she swings the door open, her hair all messy while she wore her reading glasses. “Thank god!” She threw her arms around him and pulled him into a bone crushing hug. “I’m gonna die.” She mumbled out.

“What—why?”

She whines. “I can’t do this wedding stuff, it’s too much work and I don’t even have a dress yet!”

Y/n rolls his eyes and gentle carried her inside, kicking the door closed behind him and sets her down. “Susan, you were picked to do this because your friend knew you could do it.”

“Not this kind of wedding!” Susan throws her arms up, turning around and walking to her living room. “This is some fancy shit.” She looks up from her work, glaring at him from under her glasses. “You’re isn’t going to be this big and chaotic is it?”

Y/n shrugs. “I told Bruce that I didn’t want anything too big. A simple ceremony, probably private.” He sets his bag down, joining her by the coffee table and sitting across from her. “Yeah, we’ll it better not or else I’m not going.” She began to gather all of her things, stacking up papers and setting them aside in order to give each other some space to down their own work. While she cleaned, Y/n had slowly removed his sunglasses revealing his black eyes.

Susan’s hand froze, eyes wide as she takes notice of his eyes. “Shit, When was the last time you ate?”

“Three weeks ago…” He mumbled.

“Three weeks?!” She shouts, causing him to flinch. “I told you the minimum of not eating is four days not three weeks! You can get yourself killed or let alone hurt.” She stood up from her spot on the floor, walking around the room angrily while also giving him a lecture. Susan had been friends with Y/n for years, knowing about his abilities and helping him with collecting souls. She was his main guide and the only person he trusted with his dark secret.

Y/n watched her as she takes out a small box from her book case, setting it down on the coffee table and sitting back down. “Can’t believe you’d do this—do you know how dangerous this is? You can die!” She groans, flipping the box open and taking out a few pictures with post it notes attached to them. “You’re lucky I found a few guys for you.” The photos contained images of criminals that roamed the streets freely; allowed to do anything.

Susan had easy access to these criminals due to her working as Gordon's assistant. She had access to many criminals files and knew who walked freely and their criminal records. She kept a collection of the criminals, later providing them to Y/n as his next targets. “Here.” She slips him five pictures.

“Five? It’s usually three.”

“Three if your on track, five since you went over a few days.” She glared, closing the box in her hand setting it aside. “These five are close to the area, take your time on consuming the souls and try not to get caught.” Y/n shakes his head. “I won’t.” He slips the pictures in his pocket and gives her a small smile. “Do you have my outfit?” He asks in a soft tone, trying to lighten up her mood but continued to glare, eyes narrowed at the demon before her.

“Yes.” She points to her bedroom behind her. “It’s in my closet, furthest in the back you’ll find it.”

Y/n scrambled to a stand and rushed to her bedroom where he collects his outfit that he used at night. All black along with a face mask that covered his face. It helped him stay hidden and was easy to move around whenever he was running or having to climb over things. He’d look out the window and see the sun setting, signaling that it was time for him to feed as he changed into his outfit, tying his boots and slipping on the mask. Once stepping out of Susan’s bedroom he smiles under his mask.

“Now remember,” Susan started. “Don’t get caught and if you do—you know nothing about me.”

Y/n chuckles. “I know.”

“Go kill someone.” She sighs out, earning an eye roll as he takes her balcony, climbing up the rooftops, giving him enough space and access to see his surroundings. He’s running on the roofs and jumping over them, checking the alleyways and empty streets for any signs of his targets. He’d check the post it notes every once an while, giving him an idea of where they could be located or doing at late hours. It only took him thirty minutes to find his first target, launching himself on the man and pinning him on the ground while he thrashed and shouted.

He’s quick on his work, usually keeping it clean but today he was starving and didn’t care about the mess he caused. After watching the life die from the man’s eyes he’s quick to throw the limp body aside, licking his lips under his mask and moving onto his next target. His strength was slowing coming back after he consumed soul after soul, chasing after his prey as he watched then beg for mercy, knowing damn well that they didn’t deserve it after what they did.

Y/n was down to his last soul of the night, holding the picture on hand as he reads Susan’s notes, standing over the edge of a roof before sighing deeply and slipping the picture in his pocket. “One more and then we can go gone.” He whispers to himself, preparing himself to jump off the building only to be pulled away from the edge by the collar of his shirt.

“What—!”

He falls back on his back and groans in pain, looking up to see Nightwing. His eyes widen in realization as he watched him. “You trying to mill yourself or what?” Dick turns to look at him only for his own eyes to widen. “Wait, you’re that killer that everyone talks about.” He points a finger at him, causing Y/n to shrink in shame. Before he could reason with him or say anything he’s startled by Jason who stood behind him. His back bumping against his chest and turns around to face his masked helmet.

“This the one that’s been killing people?” Jason questions, giving small steps forward while Y/n took a step back. He’s corned by the two, swallowing nervously as he adverts his eyes away from the two. “Think B will want to do something?” Said Jason, placing a hand on his hip and cocking his head to the side. “We should probably let him know.”

Y/n’s eyes widen at the mention of Bruce. He couldn’t let him know, not like this. Without thinking he reacts quickly, shoving between the two as he makes a run for it. He can hear the two shouting and running after him while he makes his way around the roofs, jumping onto the next building and stumbling in his step. With the last four souls he consumed he feels fueled up and has the strength to run and perhaps fight back if it comes to that conclusion. He can hear their footsteps behind him, taking a sharp turn towards another building and quickly taking cover behind a wall.

He remains quiet and listens as the boys run past him, shouting at each other that they couldn’t see him anymore and had lost sight of him. Y/n moves quietly and glanced towards the direction they ran off too, sighing in relief and turning the other way to head back to Susan’s place only to yelp in pain when a sharp pain is felt on his arm. His hand goes over the open wound and faces Damien.

His little Robin staring at him with narrowed eyes as he holds his katana in both hands. “I wouldn’t try to run if I were you.” He warns, voice full of venom. “I saw what you did to those men—now, what the hell are you?” He raised his sword, watching closely as Y/n clutched his arm close, wincing from the pain. “I—“ His throat is dry, licking his lips under his mask and watching Damien.

“Talk!” Damien shouts the tip of his sword pointed at him as he steps closer, causing Y/n to shift backwards. Damien takes his movement as a sign of ‘running away’ making him swing his sword at him. Y/n is quick on his feet and dodges the blade, cursing under his breath and wincing at the pain before mumbling a small apology to Damian. He swings his leg at Damien, hitting the kid in the ribs and causing him to stumble back. That only angered him. Y/n doesn’t wish to hurt Damien nor does he want to cause him any harm but his simple kick only riled the kid up.

“Shit.”

Damien runs at him.

Y/n doesn’t think, reaching for his mask and yanking it off. “It’s me! It’s me! Stop!” Damien halts the tip of his katana pressing up against his throat, not hard enough to cut him. Upon revealing his face he takes notice of Damiens posture stiffen. “Y/n?” The realization hitting him as he lowers his sword.

“That’s enough.”

Bruce’s voice startles the two, Damien turning around to face his father. “Da—Batman I didn’t—“

“I know.” Bruce reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder, giving him a soft look before his eyes avert to Y/n who stood a few feet away from him. His hand still covering his injury, face covered in sweat and his hair sticking to his forehead. He didn’t know what to say or do now that Bruce knew and instead decided to wait until he made the first move. Bruce steps forward, approaching Y/n as his anxiety heightens and lowers his head in shame.

“I can explain.” He’s quick to say, expecting Bruce to integrate him like he did to all of the criminals that he dealt with each night. Instead, the man wraps his arms around him and pulls him close into a tight embrace, startling and confusing Y/n. “Bruce?” He whispers against his neck.

“Your injured, let’s talk back at home.” Is all he says before he’s picking him up bridal style and taking him with him. He’s shocked by the situation and looks over his shoulder to see his boys watching in disbelief and shock. He can see the look of anguish on Damien’s face, frowning to himself and he looks away from his boys. The trip back to the cave is quiet between him and Bruce the tension growing as they got closer to home. Y/n stared out the window from the Batmobile the whole way back until they arrived.

He clears his throat nervously and stumbled out, grunting in pain from the bruises and injury that he’d gotten from Damien. He tries his best to ignore but, Bruce takes notice of it and calls out to him. “You’re injured.”

“I’ll manage.” Y/n gives off a small chuckle, waving it off but Bruce doesn’t fall for it. He drags him to the nearest medical table and forced him to sit down, removing his cowl and gloves and searches for the medical kit. “Shirt. Take it off.” Bruce orders his back facing Y/n as he gives off a small nod, sighing to himself and trying his best to slip off the shirt before Bruce turned back around to focus on his injured arm. He’s quiet when stitching him up, focused on his task. It doesn’t take long for Y/n to cut the tension between them. “I’m guessing you want that ring back?” He mumbled out softly, giving Bruce a glance.

Bruce stood mid stitch, raising a brow at him and asks. “Why?”

“Why? I mean, you all saw what I did—what I do and I figured you would be islet and probably want the engagement ring back.” Y/n nervously fiddled with the discarded shirt that lied by his side, trying to keep his focus on something else. “I saw what you did, but you haven’t explained to me why.” Bruce suddenly says, finishing up the stitches and wrapping his arm.

Bruce turns to him and sighs to himself, reaching up to get his attention by turning his head towards him by the chin, fingers gripping his jaw softly. “I want the truth.” His voice is stern.

Y/n sighs. “Okay.” He whispers. “I was consuming souls. Souls that I need in order to survive and to keep myself healthy or else I can lose control of my hunger.” He began to explain. “I’m a Demon. One that he’s lived for many years, I’ve seen things that no one else has and have met many different people throughout my life. I just didn’t expect myself to settle down.” Sadness and regret fill his eyes, gently brushing Bruce’s hand away from his jaw. “I wanted to tell you but I was afraid of how you’d react and what you would do if you saw me doing that.” He refers to the soul eating.

“I didn’t want to make you or the kids and—“ his breath hitched, eyes growing wet as he tries to hold back to tears that threaten to spill. “I’m sorry, I should have told you before things got serious between us.”

“You were trying to survive.” Bruce’s voice is soft. “You know I don’t agree with what you did but, I can’t stop you from trying to live. It’s the way you can continue living with us, with me.” His fingers brush up against his cheek, leaning down to press their foreheads together. “I’d still marry you whether you’re a demon or not.” Y/n sniffles, leaning into his soft touch. “You are loved.” Bruce added before placing a soft kiss on his temple, holding him close.

“I still love you too.” Y/n whispers in return. The two holding each other close. Bruce is the first to pull away and sigh in relief. “You’ll have to explain to the others, especially to Damien after he,” He nods down at his wrapped up arm. “You know. Damien cares for you.”

Y/n nods. “He probably feels awful, poor kid.” He thinks about Damien and how awfully he must feel after knowing that the man he attacked was the same man who cared for him and claimed him as his son. “I’ll make sure he’s okay.” He reassured Bruce, stealing a kiss from him as the two smile at each other. That same night Y/n explains to the boys about his past and what he is, he also reassures Damien and tells him that his wound will heal fast. Damien decided to sleep with Y/n every night as an apology for his actions, clinging to his other parent every night while Bruce huffed in annoyance since he was forced to take the couch due to him not fitting.

#male reader #Bruce Wayne #Bruce Wayne x male reader #Batman x male reader #Batman #au #bat family #bat family x male reader #Damien Wayne #dick Grayson #Jason Todd #Tim drake #robins

[hyperfixatedfandomer]

Haha so I'm assuming kidnapped Richter makes some escape attempts. How far does he get? Does he ever stop trying? What measures does Olrox take to stop him?

On a more comedy bent embarassing dad olrox when Richter starts getting crushes on people.

(Young Richter gets captured by Olrox as revenge: bittersweet found family AU introduction post)

Olrox didn’t entirely understand what he was in for when he decided to use Richie for his plan. Of course, a certain level of feistiness had been expected, but Richter’s determination has far exceeded anything Olrox was preparing for.

It was easy to deal with at first. As soon as Richter was left alone in a hotel room, he began checking every window and door, after which he promptly melted the lock on the entrance and almost reached the hallway if not for the vampire standing right on the r other side of the doorway. He repeated the trick twice before Olrox had to eventually share a room with him, because trying to excuse magically burned doors grew progressively difficult each time.

However, Richter refused to settle down, as he tried another escape later that same night, thinking Olrox was asleep. He melted the lock off the window and tried to crawl out onto a ledge, but heard a tired sigh and knew that, for tonight at least, it was over. Especially so when Olrox had enough and threatened to whoop his ass if he’s not tucked in and snoring by the time he turns his back. (Olrox could never lift a hand on a child, but Belmont didn’t need to know that)

His next several attempts were performed while in public, and they turned out to be most successful. Being around humans meant that Olrox’s hands were tied as he couldn’t use most of his vampiric abilities or magic. In one attempt, Richter successfully stayed out of his clutches for nearly three hours by blending in with the crowd but when the sun began falling beyond horizon, he walked just a little too close to a dark alley, and a mysterious dark fog smothered him. That being said, Olrox mostly solved the problem by threatening to hurt his mother. (Olrox had no problem dishing it out to an adult and Belmont absolutely needed to know that)

After weeks though, things grew…complicated. Richter got plenty of chances to slip off, but was either too demotivated or not observant enough to notice them, all because the more time he spent with his captor, the more he lowered his guard. Escape attempts stopped being an immediate priority because Richie realised that he himself was in no danger. That’s not to say that the didn’t want to escape, or that he didn’t wish with all his heart to come back to his mom and forget this ever happened, but…he didn’t know. It felt confusing, things changed since he’d been first abducted. Olrox changed too, and they found out so many things about each other, and he defended the child against other vampires, so the kid could no longer see him as just a villain, just a vampire. The old man was a person underneath all the hate and vengeance (although by no means a good person), he was grieving for a lost love, and Richter hated himself for thinking that it wasn’t all bad with him and that he cared. Olrox cared so much, even if he half-heartedly tried to hide it, and Richie never had a father and he hated how his heart placed that immortal into the empty spot against his permission ans better judgement.

Olrox trusts him, no longer locks the door, no longer has an eye on him at all times. It’s a great opportunity escape. He has to escape. Why isn’t he trying?

Why isn’t he trying?

#castlevania #castlevania nocturne #castlevania richter #richter belmont #nocturne richter #castlevania olrox #Olrox #nocturne olrox #castlevania netflix #castlevania fanfiction #castlevania au #castlevania orlox

[zaptrap]

(part 2)

redesigns of some old ocs! still kinda WIP but i like the direction they're heading. i don't really have in-depth lore/backstories yet but here's what ive got so far:

The Group:

A bunch of Serpentine who -through means unknown at this time- can shapeshift into humans... mostly. There's still some snake features but they can blend in well enough.

Each left or were banished from their respective tribes for one reason or another. Depending on timelines, the Merge may have further disconnected them from their tribes.

"Found family" but the family they found is a bunch of lunatics.

They all fall under that category of "is hundreds of years old, but look in their 20s" lmfao.

Dunno what they're up to in their day to day life besides eating and sleeping and avoiding arrest.

Xyla:

Anacondrai

Likes to toy with people, and LOVES messing with her friends but they're used to it for the most part.

Conveniently, uh, wasn't eaten by Pythor lmao. Maybe she was banished from the tribe before they were entombed.

Likes to hunt and eat people, but hates when it's called cannibalism cuz she's "technically a snake, sooo 😒"

Can turn invisible, which is very useful for the aforementioned hunting.

Not really into "normal" food can still consume it if necessary.

Most likely to get arrested, or would be if she couldn't turn invisible.

Bek (Honorable Mention):

Whatever species the Great Devourer was lmfao.

Peak emo boy vibes except he's legit insane. Was never part of a tribe.

Besties with Xyla. Might be besties with benefits, either way they're really close.

They're both wanted in at least 4 realms for an assortment of crimes (kidnapping people and eating them).

More of strict carnivore, gets sick if he has to eat non-meat too often.

2nd Most likely to get arrested.

Arabella:

Fangpyre

Not as openly antagonistic as Xyla, but can be a bitch when she wants to be.

Basically a vampire-idol LARPer, has an umbrella whenever the sun is out and can sing fairly well.

Is kinda frail/sickly. Not in the best physical condition. Likely abandoned by the other Fangpyre due to this.

Can turn people/objects into snakes via bite. Likes to threaten people with this to scare 'em off.

Likes ordering Goro around lmao, though it's usually simple stuff like errands or chores. They're best friends but...... complicated.

Picky eater, but likes candy and finger foods.

Least likely to get arrested 'cause she can just turn the cops into snakes lmfao.

Goro:

Constrictai

Left the tribe to be with Arabella. She helped him when they were kids and he latched onto her.

He's a little bit... extremely obsessed with everything about her in every way. They're inseparable (they should be separated).

Big puppy vibes but also rabid dog in certain scenarios (if something bad happened to Arabella). Clingly/Simpy/Spineless/you get the idea.

Would be shy/introverted otherwise.

Can burrow or constrict people.

Can and will eat trash, he doesn't give a shit.

Hasn't been arrested..... yet.

But yeah that's what I've got so far, lemme know what u think or if u have any questions !! There's a couple others a haven't really designed yet, but I'm still trying to figure out what I wanna do with 'em lmao.

#ninjago #my art #my ocs #talking #side note be wary when using 3D refs for poses cuz they can turn out kinda stiff lmfao #xyla looks fine but goro is REALLY awkwardly posed.........

[aria-ashryver]

Meet my MC - Luca O'Rinn

Name and Meaning: Luca — Bringer of Light / O'Rinn — Descendant of the Stars

Book: Immortal Desires Love Interests: Cas Harlow and Gabriel Adalhard Pronouns: He/they Birthday: 5th January 1997 Sign: Aquarius Born: Kinloch Rannoch, Scotland Raised: Inverness, Scotland Heritage: Scottish with ancestral roots in Ireland

More under the cut! 🖤✨

Family

Therese “Terri” O’Rinn (mother) Wayne MacAllister (father — estranged) John “Jock” O’Rinn (grandfather) Esther O’Rinn (grandmother) Morag O'Rinn (great aunt) Phoebe O’Rinn (cousin)

Skills / Hobbies

Dance, drums, butterfly knives, annoying ancient vampires with incessant questions and somehow not being murdered outright

Random Trivia

Luca has an avid curiosity (which often gets them into trouble) and is fascinated by how the world works — in every possible universe, they would have found out about the vampires in Crimson Beech.

He gets bored if he hasn’t learnt something new in a while.

Luca has Combined Type ADHD and frequently needs something to do with their hands — they can often be found flipping small items (pens, drum sticks, balisongs, etc, their phone, if they can’t get their hands on anything else)

...His phone screen is always cracked.

TERRIBLE at replying to text messages if they don’t do it then and there. Cannot make a phone call to save their life.

Has no problem biting ice cream, but sometimes sensory things ( unexplained sticky hands, clothes textures that feel suddenly wrong) with make them explode with sudden rage that comes on fast and goes away even faster. (It always alarms Gabriel whenever it happens. He tries to help and inevitably gets in the way and makes it worse. Cas knows to just ignore him when he’s having a moment.)

Loves playfighting with Cas (despite always losing and probably getting thrown somewhere)

Late. For everything. All the time. Zero time management skills.

Luca's first crush was Howl Pendragon of Studio Ghibli's Howl's Moving Castle

He takes his tea/coffee without milk bc he’s forever forgetting to drink it — there is always a small army of half-full, forgotten cups and mugs around his room.

Restless sleeper, abhors early mornings, can’t fall asleep unless he feels safe (which leads to a lot of falling asleep on Gabriel and Cas)

He despises math and still counts on his fingers. Numbers make his brain short-circuit.

Will absolutely eat food off the floor if they drop it.

Forests have always made him feel calm and want to dance.

Luca has had a habit since childhood where, any time they are walking alone through a forest, they’ll slow their pace and hum a gentle tune, trying to see if they can catch sight of any fairies or little fae creatures out of the corner of their eye. (Which seemed like a silly superstition until a few months ago, but now that they know vampires are real? Hey, maybe little Luca was on to something.)

Education (Scotland)

Rather than traditional schooling, Luca attended a specialised Arts school from the age of 14, in their hometown of Inverness, Scotland. Avalon Academy of the Arts is an alternative educational institution, covering both secondary- and tertiary-level studies in fields such as traditional arts and media, photography, music, theatre, and dance.

At Avalon, Luca trained primarily in ballet, lyrical jazz, contemporary, jazz funk, street dance, and urban hip-hop. Luca does enjoy ballet, but he found most of the ballet students too pretentious, cut-throat, and close-minded to consider pursuing a career in ballet long-term (especially as a non-binary dancer in an extremely gendered environment).

Luca’s main dance style tends toward a unique blend of lyrical, ballet, and street — though in recent years, there is definitely something of a K-Pop influence present in their choreography. They idolise Lee Taemin of SHINee, in part because of his expression and technical precision, but also because of the androgyny and power of Taemin’s dance style. They enjoy watching dance practice videos on YouTube in order to study other dancer’s body lines, transitions, and use of tension.

Education (USA)

In transferring to Crimson Beech High to round out their formal education, it became clear that Luca was very behind in some areas (math, physics, sciences) and very ahead in others (history, literature, anything pertaining to arts studies).

The semesters at Avalon do not align with traditional US schooling system (beginning in February and wrapping up in December to mirror their sister school in Avalon, Australia), so Luca is actually marginally older than many of his current classmates at Crimson Beech High.

(well. Those that aren’t vampires, anyway).

As at the first chapter of ID/SICSIG, Luca is 18, and will be turning 19 in January.

Hobbies

Luca could have taken music as an elective at Avalon, but he never did. Music is something that is purely for self expression and fun. While he did take drum lessons for about a year as a child, most of Luca’s musical ability comes from the school of fucking around and finding out — he is a kinaesthetic learner, so much of his drumming is self-taught.

Wayne (read: awful person) never really approved of Luca’s dancing and wanted them to quit when they first started taking lessons in primary school, but Terri put her foot down when she saw how happy it made them to have a form of self-expression that really spoke to who they were. As a means of compromise, Wayne suggested Luca take up drumming — something he saw as a suitably “masculine” hobby to “help him man up”.

A lot of the arguments Wayne and Terri had regarding Luca’s hobbies in their formative years were, in truth, veiled conversations about Luca’s sexuality and gender identity. Terri has never been anything but accepting of her child, and Wayne has never been able to get his head out of his own ass around Luca being gay, let alone non-binary. Though Terri tried to shield them from it, Luca often bore the burnt of a tirade of queerphobic verbal abuse, which escalated to physical violence in the years preceding Wayne and Terri’s separation.

There were a whole host of reasons why the O’Rinn household wasn’t the easiest or safest place to be growing up (which I have explored more in Starlight!); understandably, Luca had a lot of energy (and, in the years before Wayne’s arrest, a lot of anger) that he was able to take out on his drum kit.

Drumming on his own has turned into a really therapeutic space for Luca, wherein he can get into a flow state, lose the outside world, and work through a lot of his feelings. As much as Luca despises his father, he loves his drums — and knowing his father was the one to buy him his first ever drum kit is something of a sore spot. To this day, Luca still has mixed feelings about it.

Drumming with Viktor’s band, however, became a space of growth and celebration. Your Bisexual Awakening (as they are currently called — the band's name changes with almost every gig) is made up of other students from Avalon, and is unapologetically queer and in your face about it. They mostly play classic rock, punk, and grunge tracks, but ultimately do not limit themselves by genre.

Viktor, the band’s vocalist and frontman, is an OC (and will probably get his own "Meet My OC" profile!) (eventually); the other band members are Easter Eggs from other Choices books: WtD’s Angel on bass, NB’s Cal on keys, and ILITW’s Ava on lead electric guitar.

You can find out more about Luca via my masterlist, or read about them in my longfic, snow in crimson, starlight in gold on AO3! 🖤(direct link, fic is rated Explicit)

tagging: @choicesficwriterscreations

#SICSIG #luca o'rinn #meet my mc #cfwc meet my mc #choices immortal desires #immortal desires #playchoices fanfic #choices fic writers creations #🏳‍🌈🏳‍🌈🏳‍🌈

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

any chance for more what if emma doesn't die thoughts from you? I am filled with sorrow for her and Dean once more

ooh....you know for someone who has an obscenely long ghost emma wip I've never really considered if she just survived from the beginning hmm...

well obviously when sam barges in the room dean either manages to put himself in front of emma and talk him down, or, the sexier option, he shoots the gun out of sam's hand. sam still argues but dean is invoking oldest rule here lmao. I don't know if 'poughkeepsie' would apply here but I want him to drop a code word to guilt sam into letting emma come along

between his attitude and the whole 'pulling a gun on her' thing emma reasonably does not like sam right off the bat, so she's practically glued to dean like a shadow for the first couple weeks

(personally I think emma truly wanted to escape and didn't want to hurt anyone, I think she only pulled the knife bc she couldn't read dean and thought he wasn't gonna help her. so obviously that's. less of an issue here)

idk I just really like the idea of emma knowing How to fight but having more of a pacifistic nature, not really blending well with either sides of her family. like she didn't ask dean to protect her from the amazons so she could be a hunter. dean may not be able to give her a normal life while they're busy hiding from leviathans, amazons, and the us government, but he'll be damned if he's gonna force her into a fight or give her a gun. sam tries to convince emma to work as bait for the pennywhistle case and dean goes Nuclear

so once dean's comfortable letting her out of his sight for longer than half an hour she's usually on research or like, the get away driver lol

dean's 'never had enough money to get nice things for sammy' childhood guilt is manifesting aggressively he's buying stuff for emma every time he goes anywhere. whole back seat of the car is decked out with fluffy blankets and pillows, she's got her own collection of music, clothes, stuff like that. she definitely has more stuff than she should have considering they're living on the run but that's not gonna stop dean

sorry I just love the idea of sam constantly picking fights with her and dean being like. Why Do You Have Beef With My Newborn.

like I definitely think sam would warm up to her before the end of the season, especially after cas fixes his mind, but between the amy situation and his personal trauma about feeling like a monster his family should have hunted, I think he'd just. have a rough time with her at first. plus in no world does sam know how to communicate with teenage girls lmao

HOWEVER I don't think she'd stay with him while dean is trapped in purgatory. I think lowkey sam doesn't even really. Consider being her guardian or whatever bc he sees her as grown and capable, but also he's immediately trying to find a place to settle down and emma is like. what the fuck are you talking about none of this is finished???

so she takes off. she wants to find kevin to 1) make sure he's okay and 2) see if his prophet powers can help her figure out what happened to dean and cas. I think she should meet up with charlie!!! she figures if anyone can track down a missing person it'd be her, and we all know charlie's not gonna turn away kid wanting to save her parent.

they do find kevin (and linda!) and get them situated and do what they can to hide them from crowley. dean and cas eventually get out of purgatory the same way as in canon bc they couldn't really figure that out, but at least kevin wasn't abandoned all year and had a decent head start on figuring out the tablet. the four of them have a little clubhouse set up and charlie makes buffy the vampire slayer references or room of requirement jokes literally every day

this is pretty much all I've got right now, but I'm always filled with sorrow on emma's (and deans) behalf omg. someone please save her already

#supernatural #spn #emma winchester #dean winchester #spn season 7 #asks #molly mumbles #im-not-a-monster

[ccghastly]

The Van der Linde Fellas as Hybrids

Arthur:

Some kinda Mastiff Dog.

He's big and playful, knows his own size and he's not afraid to use it, very family focused, will protect his pack if its the last thing he does.

His ears are a bit raggedy, his tail was cropped. Used to drool a lot as a pup and Hosea does not let him live it down, playing with Jack always makes his tail wag. Growls and grumbles a lot, but often doesn't mean anything by it.

John:

Raccoon

Greasy trash panda, stealing other peoples shinies and taking no responsibility.

Screeches at Arthur 24\7, will not admit to being chased up multiple trees by him when they were young. Has little caches of stuff absolutely everywhere. If you lose him, he's where he's not meant to be, look in the place you'd least like him to be first and there you will find him, very confused on how Hosea always finds him so fast.

Hosea:

Maine Coon

Blends into high society, hates strangers, likes being in the company of his family, an excellent hunter, very motherly towards his boys.

Spends his evenings before the camp's fire, bushing out his fur. Drags Arthur and John over to be groomed if they get too close, Arthur gets too close suspiciously often, John is suspiciously far away. Very charming, knows how to sway his tail just right to make people notice him, also knows how to blend in and appear like any other average domestic breed.

Dutch:

Says he's a raven but is actually a shiny cowbird.

Kinda detrimental to those around him but not maliciously, promiscuous with no set partner, offloads much of the physical work onto others, a conman that knows how to fit in.

Is very proud of his iridescent plumage, flirts and preens incessantly, flares his wings when trying to make a point and be dramatic. Once accidentally set his tail feathers on fire when preening too close to the campfire, pouted in his tent until they grew back and Hosea stopped laughing.

Bill:

Some kind of cat, I lean towards a Lion.

He's grumbly, likes a lot of naps, will pitch in if asked but leaves most of running around to his pride, a big boy, patrols his territory.

His mane is kinda scraggly and the gang does indeed make fun of him for it. If there's a sunbeam he's napping in it. Hates the cold. Loves snuggles and physical affection but will die before admitting it.

Sean:

Husky

Has a flair for the dramatic, loud, listens to no one unless it benefits him, enjoys 'singing'. When it's time to work, it's time to work. Can't focus unless he has a job to do, works well with others.

Tail wagging & tongue out 90% of the time. Constantly trying to tackle Arthur into play fights. Sheds like a mf and gets offended when called out about it.

Micah:

Vampire Finch

You know he's up to nothing good but you can't seem to stop him before he does damage. Picks away at people until they're too exhausted to fight back.

Enjoys eating his meat as bloody as he can get it, preens more than you'd think but his feathers are still constantly a bit ragged. Struts around camp with his feathers fluffed out to look bigger, loves to poke and pick at people then fly off when they retaliate. Constantly lands rudely close to hitting people. Will dive bomb you.

Charles:

Mustang

Protects his herd, can roam alone but prefers company, not afraid of hard work. Knows when to pick his battles. Quiet, but says a lot if you know how to read him.

Enjoys taking the time in the morning to carefully braid his mane. He's a big boy and is very conscious of that fact. Careful with every movement. When alone together will stealthily scritch Arthur's ears to watch his tail wag, does accept retaliatory scritches, mutual grooming is the ultimate act of friendship.

Javier:

Ornate hawk eagle

Flashy and fancy but gets the job done, strikes hard and fast.

Preens his wings a lot, hates when his feathers and crest get disorderly, says it feels wrong. Dutch has him fly up and scout the way. Coordinates outfits so they match his plumage.

#arthur morgan #bill williamson #javier escuella #hosea matthews #dutch van der linde #sean macguire #micah bell #charles smith #john marston #rdr2 imagine #imagine #rdr2 headcanons #read dead redemption 2 #rdr 2 #rdr2 #headcanon #request #gender neutral reader #hybrid #hybrid au #archive of our own #ao3 #ccghastly

[twilightsleepjunkie]

Head Canon: Bella and the Cullens

I think a big part of Edward's draw to Bella is that she's the first human to ever show any interest in him and why he seems different from the rest of her classmates. The Cullen's a 'freaks' to the rest of the humans they encounter. They stand out in a bad way. For people who try to blend in, they don't do it very well. The traits of vampirism; charm, beauty, physically graceful. All of those things make them seem abnormal; which, they are.

I imagine that would be isolating. The Cullens have no friends because Carlisle lives in paranoia that someone will figure them out, or worse, lose control and go on a killing spree. They don't have a community in Forks. Yes, Carlisle has friends throughout the world, but how can he truly be friends with people who's fundamental beliefs clash so glaringly against his.

Enter Bella who genuinely wants to know and she accepted their status as vampires so easily because she knows the answer to her own question. The Cullens welcome her into their home with open arms. She's not the problem here. At least in Edward's mind, Bella isn't the burden. They are. Their thirst that comes with their nature as vampires is the biggest burden.

The Cullens are the example of a regular family, for Bella. She never saw a happy relationship between her parents. She sees Renee happy with Phil, but only from a distance because Renee can't be a wife and a mother at the same time.

Meanwhile, Carlisle and Esme are stupidly in love. They love and accept their children without judgement or rebuke. They are parents who protect and value their family and each other. They accepted Bella without a problem and agreed to change her because she asked for it. No one pressured her into that choice until the Volturi put their foot down. I think the Cullens gave Bella the family she needed. Movie Esme would stop at nothing for her family and the whole family fought like hell to keep Bella alive when she was pregnant.

(Book Esme didn't get enough airtime.)

Carlisle was always around to patch Bella up when she got hurt. Alice became the pushy little sister. While Rosalie was the pain in the ass oldest sister who just tried to stay out of the way and it's the same with Jasper. While Emmett is an older brother.

Not to mention in the book version of Eclipse, Bella has the whole Cullen family around the table and says 'Thank you for wanting to keep me.'

I'm sorry, WHAT? That implies that Bella chronically feels neglected and unwanted in her normal life. Which, given Renee's character, makes a lot of sense. But it takes her *not* actively taking care of Charlie every day to realize that he's her *DAD* and he's supposed to put new tires on her truck so she's safe. It's his whole job to take care of her, if for no other reason than she's his MINOR child. I thank God for movie Charlie, book Bella deserves him.

Bella accepted the Cullens and didn't care that they had to fight the urge not to murder her because that was better than being with people who didn't exactly want her around at all.

That's the real story here, 'a neglected child finds a family within a coven of vampires.'

Poor Bella.

#carlisle cullen #esme and carlisle are both straight #esme cullen #bella swan #edward cullen #Twilight is a tragedy

[pttwice]

Any thoughts recently on littlevampire!mina and littlewerewolf!samo recently? I miss them <3

hi anon! :) i always have littlevampire!mina & littlewerewolf!samo thoughts. i think about them all the time tbh, but here are just a few i've had 💚

more littlewerewolf!samo and littlevampire!mina hcs

as the pups grow, littlevampire!mina absolutely refuses to sleep without them so her mamas have to keep getting her a bigger coffin to sleep in

littlewerewolf!momo has kind of fuzzy black fur whenever she’s teeny tiny but as she gets bigger, it gets slightly more wiry (doesn’t mean she’s not cuddly though!) and mina loves how it feels

littlewerewolf!sana is kinda the opposite where she’s got light brown fur that starts out more wiry but gets softer as she gets bigger

momo is one of those pups who loves peanut butter and mina loves giving her a finished jar because momo will spend a good 10 minutes with the jar stuck to her snout, trying to lick all the peanut butter out

whenever it’s bedtime and mina’s doing her nighttime routine with her mamas, (nayeon and jihyo switch every night) she plays pretend like she’s brushing the pups’ teeth and washing their faces

vampire!nayeon and vampire!jihyo even bought those little hairband things that you use when you wash your face for the pups so they can feel a part of mina’s bedtime routine

during one of the first few months that they had the pups, jihyo was walking into the living room and accidentally stepped on momo’s tail because she blended in with the black rug they have :( poor baby was cuddled and spoiled with extra treats for the rest of the day

unlike most of their werewolf friends, sana and momo love being in their wolf forms rather than their human forms

it’s not that the vampires and the little vampire love them less, but they adore the treats and head/belly rubs they get 24/7. getting hugs in human form just isn’t the same :(

whenever they get to be their full sizes, nayeon and jihyo are going to just get mina a humongous coffin so sana and momo can still fit in it with her

mina is the only one who can actually brush the pups teeth and even though they absolutely hate it, they tolerate it just because they love their little vampire so much

it was super scary for the whole family, but someone did try to break in once. thankfully, the pups are loud and can absolutely be scary. whoever dared to try and break in was quickly scared off by the pups loud barking and growling as well as seeing two pairs of piercing eyes through the glass of the front door

momo and sana got extra chicken for breakfast and dinner the next day because they were so brave and they were such good guard pups!

#joon writes hcs 🦖 #littlevampire!mina #littlewerewolf!sana #littlewerewolf!momo

[black-dhalias]

hi ! i'd like to request a carlisle cullen imagine with an f!reader with she/her pronouns :) basically reader is carlisle's mate but he's already married to esme and it gets really complicated. preferably a happy ending but it really just depends on you! ! thank u and stay safe <33

Written in Stone

Carlisle Cullen X F!Reader

Warnings: none, fluffier than usual Note: Y/N/N (your nickname)

God forbid you knew where you were going, you think harshly to yourself—but not before glaring at Alistair who just follows his whims. Those urges to run, and others to stay put, but never what you’re currently doing. He simply shrugs his shoulder, which only infuriated you more—500 years with him as your best friend, and you still hated every second of it. The truth is, he’s always right and those whims have kept you alive all this time.

For him, you were simply his great great great niece, or something, who was descended from his only living nephew. Oddly enough, you were turned by the same vampire who turned him—and so began the painful journey together as the only friend and family the other has. Alistair understood your apprehension to run again, to find another desolate town to blend into, but it’s been too long.

So here you are, running to gods no where without a single clue where he’s taking you besides the grumbles under his breath. Barely making out— “last move.” You roll your eyes, practically jogging out in front of him.

“I’ll believe it when I see it, uncle.” Although a hundred years apart, he still sees a lot of his sisters in you—passed down through his nephew. The truth is, he’d do anything to protect you.

It’s a mountain town, where everyone wears thick jackets with thicker accents. The truth is, you barely understood a word the woman behind the counter said as she commented on your accent. Which is ridiculous. You may be in the States, but it’s not like the English are unique—in fact, you find yourself quite understandable.

So here you are, another grubby town in the middle of bloody nowhere—tossing an unnecessarily thick jacket to Alistair, across another grubby motel room. “You’re worse than me, although you knew that.” You raise a brow, eyes flickering between him and the obviously not natural staining on the bed.

“I’m not touching it.”

“Well then, it’s a good thing you don’t sleep.” He throws the newly acquired cell phone in your direction. You’ve caught it before you’ve even realized it’s been thrown and smile at him, before taking a seat on the chair designated the cleanest in the room. “There. Now leave me alone for a bit.” With that, he walks out of the room to do who knows what. Not that you care.

.

.

.

However, what started as you playing on the phone for hours—ended with you killing it three times over before setting it aside. Boredom finally getting the best as day turned into night, the curtains no longer casting shadows, but simply existing in the room.

But night does not bring peace, instead—halfway through your shower, a knock echoed through the motel room. With a groan, you tie the towel as tight as you can manage and move across the room in a blink. “For only having a hundred years on me, your memories getting spotty old man.”

Only when you open the door, it is not Alistair, but two vampires—strangers. Your body goes rigid, your back straight as you tighten your leg muscles, reading their body language. The woman is smiling, her eyes big and face heart shaped. She’s soft. While the man is tall with blonde hair, and those same gold eyes—only they look nicer on him.

Your eyes flicker between their faces, they’re smiling awkwardly as if you weren’t the person they expected to answer the door. And if they were human, their cheeks would be a vibrant red as they try to not look at your toweled form.

“You must be Y/N.” Arms crossed over your chest, tightening around the towel—you raise a brow, leaning on the door, prepared to shut it.

“Nope. So you must going.” As you go to shut the door, the woman’s hand outstretches and lands on the door. You move faster than her, your hand catching her wrist and you instantly twist it to turn her into your chest—your other arm braced against her neck with just enough pressure to scare her a bit.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Based on our current situation, I’d say I’m older than at least three centuries.” Your voice drops as you keep your eyes locked on the man, reading him as he has gone rigid. Now watching you more closely. “That makes me stronger.” Her hands clasp down on your arm, but you do not move or yield. His gaze is not as soft as it was, but there’s conflict as his thoughts sort themselves out.

“Y/N-” Your eyes snap to Alistair as he saunters up, smirking as he wipes away the smallest amount of blood from his lip. “These are friends.” He places a hand on Carlisle’s shoulder, before chuckling again and shuffling past you altogether. Once past, you drop your arm and shove her towards the male vampire. “Pardon my niece, she’s more—” He lingers on the thought, speaking with this hands. “More confrontational than I am.”

You roll your eyes, crossing into the bathroom quickly to change and then rushing back at to sit at the seat. Kicking your feet up on the half table, that shouldn’t even be called a table at all. More like a small square of wood. “I was fairly nice. They’re the ones who didn’t want to leave me alone.”

“Must get that from you, old friend.” The man points out with a smile as he shuts the motel room door. “Although I didn’t expect to find you in the states.”

“Up until last week, neither did I.” You assert, glaring at Alistair for moving you from Europe to this hell hole.

“You don't have a say, Y/N/N." You roll your eyes and turn your attention back to the pair, raising an eyebrow. Something has changed in their dynamic, he's created some distance between them, and everytime the female steps closer—he maintains that distance.

You hum, "So care to introduce yourself?" The woman goes to speak, but your glare shuts her up quick and your lip twitches. Having a great time messing with them. "I wasn't asking you. I was asking the pretty one." However, your comment must have set something right in his brain, because he steps up to place a hand on her waist which is laughable. So protective.

"This is my wife, Esme. And I'm Carlisle." Your expression brightens as you sit back up, resting your feet on the ground and cupping your cheeks in your palms.

"So you're the famous Carlisle Cullen, I heard nasty rumor the Volturi was after-" Alistair cuts in, and you shut your mouth quick.

"Why're you like this?" He asks roughly, that's the thing about you and him. His gift is based on whims, a powerful tracker who knew danger so well—that he could avoid it entirely. Your gift is based on rumors, whispers that reach your ears—things you just know.

"Because its fun, and it's not like they don't know." The minute the words left your lips, you saw the guilty expression on Carlisle's face. The woman not so much, but she's not the one that has caught your interest—she's typical housewife, with dark hair and probably had brown eyes as a human. She was soft spoken and motherly, and she matches him, but he just doesn't seem to fit at her side. Not the way you would expect of mates.

Alistair goes to say something, but Carlisle interrupts him: "She's right. We're facing accusations from the Volturi, that are false." Your eyes widen as a whisper reaches your ear—one you did not expect to hear.

"Half-human, half-vampire." You laugh, sitting up with bright eyes—your interest piqued. "Oh I love a good twist."

"No." You hush Alistair and his denials, knowing he felt the danger creep up on you both, the minute you decided you wanted to help.

"Oh yes, I'd love to stick it to the Volturi."

Talking with the duo for the rest of the night, you find yourself intrigued by their family and their trifles. The intricacies of their life, and their die—none of it made sense, and yet they lived so happily. However, night turns to day and you find yourself sitting across from Alistair, in a battle of wits. Trying to convince him to go, or let you go for yourself. He breaks eye contact for a second at the sound of housekeeping going into the room next door, and you smile.

"C'mon, it's not like it won't be fun?" Alistair raises an eyebrow as if to ask if you really think that's a convincing argument. "Fine, how about this?" You lean forward, folding your arms on the tabletop. "I'm tired of running... What if we finally can stop hauling ass and just live a little?"

"And what if the Volturi wins? Then what?" You've met them once before, when they tried to forcefully make you join them. They almost had you, but your ability made a loophole in their little plan. You knew what they were up to from the start, and it gave you just enough time to disappear with your Uncle. "Aro's already made it clear, you're valuable and what're the odds we get away a second time?"

"Slim-" He makes sense, and that's what infuriates you further as you sigh. "But we need to take the risk. I want to take the risk." You and Alistair fall back into your staring contest, waiting for the other to give in, but he finally submits. Glaring at Carlisle from across the motel.

"We'll all be on Aro's list..." Alistair stands up and moves towards the door, looking back at you only briefly then back at Carlisle. "Some friend Carlisle."

However, when you look back at Carlisle and Esme—you are perplexed by a single thought. While Esme is looking at him, he is looking at you, as if trying to will you hear him. To understand what he wants to say, without him ever actually saying it.

"He'll get over it, sooner or later." Admittedly, Carlisle is intrigued by you and the guilt over those thoughts burn a little when he feels Esme's eyes on him. He glances down and then back at you, as you speak. "We'll leave right after I get a drink." And while Carlisle may hate your lifestyle, he thought someone would make him think he still had a heartbeat until he looked into those vibrant rubies.

.

.

.

The trip to Washington was silent, you hate long journey's like this, but enjoy the sights that come. The mountain ridges, and the long plains and lakeside views enough to remind you of what it means to live. Maybe that is the fantasy you sell yourself time to time, that it might be possible to feel human even now.

Standing at the edge of the lake, you fall in love with the way the sunsets over the ridge—with it just being bright enough to shimmer off the top of the water. Your smile is soft, so much so that Carlisle almost doesn't recognize you without the playful smirk you often wore. Your sense of humor and playful nature, a protective armor that both confuses and intrigues him. So much so, that despite his guilty conscience, he finds himself standing next to you in silence.

"Ya know, most of the time when we're on the run—the loneliness is the worst part. Not the running. Or the new place, but it gets lonely." You do not remove your eyes from the lake, just trying to memorize the outline so that maybe you'll remember it later when the loneliness begins again.

"That does sound lonely." You chuckle, but its the kind that gets caught in your throat and makes you sound sadder than you are. "It's the worst. And believe me, I love my uncle, but I always imagined the running would stop after a while. So here I am, five centuries later, and still trying to out run..." You finally gather enough courage to look him the eye, "I just want to live a little. My human life, its gone, it's been gone, but I wish I just a piece. A home. A lover. Friends. I'm not picky, but just something would be better than this."

Carlisle's features are softer than you initially thought, not as sharp, but still pronounced. His eyes glitter the color of amber stones, you had a pair of earrings with stones the color of his eyes. "I know what you mean. I travelled a lot before I found my family, and it took a while for it to all be worthwhile."

"How long?" Your voice has an edge as you try to imagine a world beyond this. "Because according to my uncle, he met you in the 17th century—I was turned in the 14th century, that's three centuries longer than you." Your voice is aggressive, but as soon as you feel his hand rest on your bicep, rubbing a small circle with his thumb—you go completely still.

Although you can't recall the last bit of affection you received, you always thought you would hate, but instead you find comfort in the gesture. So much so that your body softens, and you stop glaring at him for a few seconds.

"See..." He smiles softly, and for a second, you don't think about anything else. "Not so scary, Y/N/N." When he realizes his hand has drifted down to hold your hand, almost unconsciously, he drops it suddenly and smiles awkwardly. "But you're right. I don't know the extent, and I know you don't want to leave your Uncle, but it might be time."

You tuck your hands into the jacket pocket, and fidget with the bit of string that is tearing away from the pocket seam. "Actually, you're mistaken." When he drops your hand, you feel your soul tighten around your heart protectively. "I would sooner die, than part with my Uncle. And it's Y/N to you. Only Alistair calls me Y/N/N." You turn on your heel and walk back up to your Uncle, your mind reeling as you try to push away the thoughts of Carlisle Cullen and his inherent need to understand you. Its sick really, he has a whole wife and he's over there holding your hand and worried about you feeling lonely.

.

.

.

A whisper reaches your ear just as the Cullen's home comes into view, and your eyes widen as you realize the extent of the danger you are in. The Volturi are collecting witnesses of their own, many thought your gift was conditional, rumors, but that's just how you described them. Usually they were pretty accurate, and right now, you almost wish you had listened to Alistair's warnings.

You hardly even remember a time when you ever were in a car, they were pretty useless to vampires especially when the goal was to hide—not blend in as the Cullens seem to. Ever since your "talk" with Carlisle, the silence had become deafening and even more than that, Alistair had not stopped glaring at Carlisle.

"How many came?" You spot the pair of vampires, with the same gold eyes, as you get out of the driver's side rear—the home itself is beautiful, but you feel the presence of many vampires. More than you've ever been around at once.

"Eighteen." The new man responds, although his eyes are locked on you. Mind Reader, your gift shouts, actually it hasn't shut up since you got out of the car. He finally looks at Carlisle. "You have some good friends Carlisle."

"And Alice?" The psychic, it's never been this active before and the whispers are shorter than usual. More like thoughts, they could be, if you didn't know that you knew nothing about them. So it had to be your gift in action.

The unknown female shakes her head, and Esme embraces her tightly—hmm, must be family. Shield, interesting.Hmmm, so many gifts in one place, so many varied abilities. The male is back to looking at you with perplexion as Alistair asserts that he's going to the attic. Edward, now that was a first. It never really cared to tell you names, but hey, who are you to complain.

"Amazing." He mumbles, walking up to you as he pulls the female along. "Her gift, it's almost prophetic. I've never seen anything like it." You smile, oddly enough—unlike your Uncle, you're excited to meet all the new vampires. Curious to see what it's like to live in close proximity to each other. "Wait until I start hearing rumors from halfway around the world. I'm Y/N." You introduce, shaking hands with both of them. Their eyes follow your Uncle as he takes off, per usual. "Like I told them, don't mind him. He's just moody." You hear him scoff in the attic, and laugh a little with Bella.

"How does it work exactly?" Bella asks, as you take her outstretched arm to follow her inside the house. If you're honest, similar to Carlisle and Esme, you knew you could trust her.

"It's like a voice that spurts out information, like I know you're a shield. Although I don't know the extent. Or how I knew Edward's name, although that's never happened before either." You think about, tutting a little—"Actually. Now that I think about it, I don't really understand it much at all."

"Weird." You eye her for a second, and then at Edward before realization hits you.

"You're the human that carried the child? Except you're obviously not human anymore." You separate yourself, looking at the group of four. It makes sense, Carlisle turned Edward who fell in love with a human. They consider themselves to be family. "Can I meet her?"

There is hesitance as she calls out for Rosalie, who comes in with a six year old in tow—if you didn't hear her heartbeat, you would think it was an immortal child. Once she reaches the spot right in front of you, there's a second when you consider running away from the strange girl. But curiosity wins out as you kneel down.

"Hi. I'm Y/N." She doesn't say a word, but instead reaches out to place her palm against your cheek. It's different, you see the world through her eyes as she tells you her story—all with a touch. Your eyes widen as your hand folds over her's. "Remarkable." You murmur, before she pulls her hand away and you are left in stunned silence. A half-human miracle that you didn't even know was possible.

You do not look for anyone other than Carlisle, you are less angry with him than you were when you first arrived at the home. "I'll stay. Whether it ends in a fight, or not. For you, and the child." You stand, and walk off towards the rest of the vampires—some more familiar, actually quite a few are familiar. However, your mind keeps going back to Carlisle's expression—the way he seemed hesitant to do anything other than nod appreciatively.

Edward approaches his father figure once the other's have walked away and raises his eyebrow, "What was that about?" Carlisle is unable to stop watching you, as you walk up to the nomads with that stunning smile.

"I have no idea." It is like the entire world just stopped moving the moment he was in the same room as you, he just could not stop wondering. He was absolutely enamored every time you spoke, and if he was dependent on breath—you would have stolen it with every glance.

"Carlisle..." His eyes are understanding, he knows what it's like to meet his mate. However, Edward doesn't understand what this means for Carlisle because he's married to Esme and Edward knows Carlisle loves her, but mates mean something. That kind of bond is powerful and unforgiving if ignored. "Figure this out before you hurt someone."

.

.

.

"Y/N..." You stiffen as you realize that you are no longer alone, standing at the edge of the property line, just before the trees. "What're you doing out here?" However, when you look at him, he sees how dark your eyes have become—you hadn't fed in some time, "oh."

"Bella's dad is here..." He understands quickly, nodding as he folds his hands together. "I hate hunting alone, and Alistair—he's him." He just is able to go longer periods without hunting, but he also just hates it here so he's still pouting in the attic. The other's had all left on their hunt, and when Benjamin asked if you'd be joining them, you just didn't have an answer.

You laugh a little, "Honestly, I never felt guilty about drinking human blood. I never lost control. Nothing." You hesitate. "And now, seeing the alternative. I just feel so absolutely guilty." His eyes widen at the admission, realizing that this is about more than just a whim. "And I hate you for it."

You would be stupid to ignore the way you feel when you're near Carlisle, it is unlike anything you've felt for anyone, and that alone is enough to make you feel guilty. The weight of your fear only bubbling to the surface because he's married, and he's a better person than you've ever been. That is what makes you feel guilty, you wish you made different choice—wish you didn't like the way his smile warms your core. The way you don't feel so alone when he's near, even if he doesn't say a word to you.

"Well I can't take away the guilt, but I could help you try..." He hesitates, watching as your eyes begin to do the thing they do when you're trying to read someone. It is like you see right through him, every motivation on full display. "It's worth a shot, right?"

When he expects you to disagree, he is visibly shocked as you nod—Alistair will hate it, but maybe this is how you start to live. Thinking about having a life is becoming easier, but it is becoming increasingly difficult to not imagine Carlisle in that life. Everytime he speaks, you just melt into an entirely different person.

So when he holds out his hand to you, there is a moment you hesitate, but this time you do not pull away or feel worry. Instead, you take his hand gratefully, and follow his lead into the woods where an idea, might just give you something to hold onto.

Only the falling point of a house of vampires, is the fact that the wife watches from a distance as her husband falls in love with another. And there's nothing she can do to stop the ache. She saw it back in that motel room, Esme should have said something then, but she didn't and now look what's happening.

Carlisle rests his hands on your shoulders, fingers trailing down your arms in a vertical motion, as you shut your eyes. "Focus on your senses other than sight." He pauses, "What you hear..." His breathing, despite not needing to, you are well aware of the fact that he maintains breathing even away from the prying eyes of humans. "What you smell..." He smells of medical grade disinfectant, but under that, you are able to make out the sweet smell of cinnamon and what you can only describe as the woods. "What you feel..." His hands, you are well aware of where his hands are at every given moment—especially as they keep moving up and down your biceps.

You turn around roughly, to the point that you forgot how close he really was— eye to eye, close enough to touch if you just lean... His hands dropping to his sides. "You need to back off because right now, all I can think about is you." You swallow, clenching your hands into a fist—so aware. "And you're married." You add on the last bit as a reminder for yourself. He nods, folding his arms across his abdomen, his own guilt is becoming very familiar.

However, you catch the scent of something—a bear you think, and push yourself off in that direction. This doesn't feel as instinctual as hunting humans, this feels like a conscious choice, but you go through. Dragging the large brown bear to the ground, rolling for a second before coming out on top—pinning the beast down, you hope for the best and drink as you would from a human.

Immediately, you note the difference in taste, but it's manageable and not as bad as you imagined it would be. Standing upright, you push away the bear completely and look back at Carlisle who offers you a smile. "See not so bad."

"That was terrible, but-" He eggs you to continue. "But I think I could do it." He smiles brighter, and although he might not admit it to you—he knows what he feels is real.

.

.

.

You walk back to the house, talking the entire way and telling stories of things long ago. You tell him about your travels, how your gift works, and times when Alistair did some of the most ridiculous things.

Carlisle laughs at your jokes and makes you feel more alive, piece by piece, you feel yourself pulling together. It's like a jigsaw puzzle, but just as you walk through the treeline—you spot Esme and all the pieces come apart right there. You swallow, feeling her eyes burning into you as she walks towards you—you almost hope that she does something to make it all make sense.

Only she hugs him, and whispers something unintelligible in his ear before gesturing for you to follow her. Perplexed, you look at Carlisle who's eyes have widened considerably. You almost don't trust her smile, but you follow her out into the woods and hope she doesn't come for you. Gods you would hate that.

"I know you feel something for him..." You stare at the ground, as you realize she only spoke once you were out of earshot completely. "I don't blame you."

"Well that's kind, because I didn't mean for it to happen." Your words sputter out before you can even think of a reason not to say them. That's the bitter part about being stuck like this, sometimes your body gets ahead of your mind or vice versa.

Esme takes your hand, you fight the urge to pull away, knowing she is just trying to be kind. But you hate touch, except from him. Which is infuriating.

"I know." She bites the inside of her cheek, you can see the indentation form and you worry she would cry if she could. "So I'm not going to stand in the way. I love Carlisle, more than anything, but if my mate walked through the door and consumed me." She rubs a circle on the outer part of your hand. "And I'd be terrible to prevent him the same. When I know what choice I would make."

You can barely even form a thought, "What does that even mean?" She smiles sadly, and you see for a moment that she's being honest. Trust her, that's what the whispers tell you to do and they've always looked out for you before this.

"It means love him. Be happy with him, and make him happy." She is soft, and you feel yourself becoming antsy as you stand in front of her. You can't read her anymore, because you can't focus at all. "Fight for him. Because I know him well enough to know, he's going to fight for you."

.

.

.

You do not move from that spot, even when Esme leaves back to the house—you feel more guilty because all you did was make a wife leave her husband, and you don't even understand how you feel about said husband. The silence is deafening as you finally find yourself sitting on the ground, your chest heaving because you want to understand. To know what it means to love Carlisle.

"Y/N/N..." You do not look in his direction, gods you hadn't even thought about Alistair until you heard him speak and that just makes you feel worse. Loving Carlisle, means staying here and leaving Alistair because there's no way he would stay.

"Go away." You've never had anyone to care for you other than Alistair, and never had to worry about disappointing anyone other than him. So you never did, because you could always be there.

"Please, I'd never miss this. The moment the great Y/N, found her humanity." He tuts, sitting roughly on the ground beside you. "I think you'd even be crying." You laugh, but he's right—you really do think you would crying right now. This feels terrible. "Plus I figured you were tied to Carlisle, from the first time he met you." He chuckles. "Surprised it took this long."

"Well aren't you a great Uncle." You lean your head onto your knee, "I wish we'd never come here." He too follows suit and leans his own head onto his knees, forcing you to look him in the eye.

"Because you don't want to leave." You groan and finally lean onto his shoulder, he's right. God's you don't want to go anywhere, other than into that stupid blonde's arms. "So stay. I'll be fine."

"What abou-"

"What about nothing. You've followed me long enough—" He hates the idea of leaving you here, but he knows you'd be well protected. "Time to live a life of your own." He laughs, kissing the top of your head. "Besides, with your new diet. You stink of bear."

.

.

.

You stand at door frame of Carlisle's office, leaning on the pane as you watch him shuffle papers. "Can we take it slow?" His eyes snap to you, and you realize he'd been so lost in thought, he'd not even realized you were there.

You slowly walk into the office, his eyes following you the entire way in. "Are you sure?" He whispers, closing the distance in an instant—"because I know..."

"You know nothing, sweets." You rest your hand at the base of his neck, before resting his cheek in your palm. "But that's okay. We'll take this one day at a time."

.

.

.

It took a century, but you had forever together—so what was another hundred years of waiting. All it took was a single moment, where he kissed the inside of your wrist before looking up to you—where amber met amber. And you realized that your love story had been written in stone, and no matter how much time passed—it was forever.

So that's where you started.

With forever.

—

Not even going to lie right now, I looked at this request last night because I was struggling to fall asleep. And ended up writing this at 3:00 AM, driven only by insomnia and my innate love of Carlisle Cullen. So I hope you like it!

#imagines #imagine #requests are open #fandom request #imagine requests #twilight #twilight imagine #twilight saga #twilight x reader #carlise cullen #carlisle x reader

[wickedsrest-rp]

Name: Penelope Whelk Species: Siren Occupation: Unemployed  Age: 25 Years Old Played By: Immo Face Claim: Fivel Stewart

"What are these? Candy Hearts? They’re not even in the shape of hearts. Oh sure, I’ll try one, I’m sure they’ll be as good as the real thing…"

Parthenope, who would later become known as Penelope, was named for one of the all time greats in the Siren world. It was a family name (although it was unlikely they could actually claim descendance from the original), given to the oldest daughter of the oldest daughter, for generation after generation. The one who would someday lead the flock. No pressure. Their flock was wild and windswept, living on a small island (or rather, rock formation) on the edge of Canada. They hunted for their meals, both spearing unsuspecting fish out of the oceans, and predating on even less suspecting sailors who were ensnared by their siren song. 

Parthenope was still young. She followed her mothers and aunts in action and spirit, but if she was someday going to lead, she needed to start thinking for herself. It was just… hard to have an original thought when everyone around you lead the exact same life you did. 

Not that they were totally isolated, mind you. There were plenty of selkie pods that dropped by to the island to share the stories of their split lives. Even more exciting were the visits from the undead. They brought stories of their old lives, which were every bit as rich as their lives now, and they shared what life was like on land. It took time for Parthenope to start hearing, and believing what they said, that humans were every bit as interesting and dynamic as sirens were.

Still prey, of course, but their thoughts and opinions mattered. Parthenope was almost excited to have had such a novel thought, a new way that she might be able to lead others to think some day. Of course, her mother was still in charge, but it was good to prepare.

Parthenope was out on a hunt one day when the crash she’d created with her crooning voice resulted in one of the sailors having more injuries than she’d expected. Instead of carefully killing to bring their hearts back as delicacies, she’d let her bloodlust take over. Everyone understood sometimes these things happened, she’d catch another ship later.

Except when she came to, there was a survivor, who looked right in her eyes and called her a monster. Words hurt, you know? It hit Penelope deep. Deeper than she was willing to admit. But it had nothing to do with her deciding to take a gap year, as the humans called it, and go try out being in human civilisation. It would be good for her. Good for the flock! Try being something a little… less upsetting to people.

She swapped her name to the more human Penelope Whelk, and arrived at Wicked’s Rest. Apparently, it was one of the few places humans were as weird as every other species. The only place she stood a hope of trying to blend in. So far, it was working, ish! If only she could convince the rest of the flock that candy hearts were worth it…

Character Facts:

Personality: Eager, optimistic, naive, tempestuous, community-oriented

Penelope has standard siren abilities, and her plumage in siren form resembles a puffin, orange around the mouth and short wings included. It’d be pretty funny if it didn’t come with razor sharp teeth.

Penelope has a basic understanding of human society and behaviour. Hush, she’s doing her best.

While familiar with zombies, vampires and especially selkies, Penelope knows very little about other playable species. She’s reasonably knowledgeable about oceanic species in the bestiary.

While she’s been careful not to draw too much attention to the quality of her voice, she loves singing at any open mic nights around town? And if she “accidentally” enthralls someone into buying her a drink or a meal? No harm, no fowl. 

Having grown up in such a relatively isolated space, Pen is fascinated by any cultural differences to her own. Which… is almost everyone. Even other siren flocks tend to be pretty culturally different to each other. 

Equally, having grown up in such an isolated community, Pen has almost no experience in making friends. Just lots of enthusiasm.

#retired

[nat-seal-well]

Tid-Bit Tuesday!

I was tagged by @lovelylonerliterature 🥰💙

Tagging @ejunkiet @friendlyfaded @romirola @gingerbreadmonsters and anyone else who wants to share :)

This time I’m doing things a little bit differently! A few certain people who I follow (and adore very much) talked about The Wayhaven Chronicles enough to get me interested and check it out, lol. Naturally I had to try writing a fic for it. That’s just how it goes.

Also it’s kind of long I’m sorry—

He’d sit and watch, looking out through windows as humans passed him by and the others bickered and worked together behind him. Each person that crossed the window had a name, and a life, a whole little universe crammed inside of the big one everybody shares. What a thought!

It’s something Felix already knew, because his home world works much in the same way. But here, surrounded by mortality—this fine line all these strangers around him walk, almost as if on a tightrope—that seems to breathe new life into the concept. All their dulled senses means they go bigger, further, brighter, in every single way. In taste, touch, sight, sound, smell. All of it. None is left out. And the thing is, most of them don’t even realize. They never will.

He likes that about them. They’re wildflowers on a mountainside, splashes of natural and uncoordinated color. Just thriving where they’d been planted, brilliant, like paint splattered on a blank canvas.

Look at me, they seem to say. And he does. Looking, never touching. He’s never been one for picking flowers. Better to leave them in the soil, so they can grow and bloom. A vampire can’t become human any more than a hummingbird can become a flower, and none of the rest of his unit seemed to mind the divide. Clearly he wasn’t supposed to, either.

But he looked. For years. And dressed himself in their colors, in pinks and oranges and sunshine yellows that made the rest of his little team squint their eyes at the vibrant hues.

“It’s called blending in,” Felix said when Ava asked why. “It’s a disguise.”

“You stick out like a sore thumb.”

“Not when everyone else is dressed the same way. I’m practically invisible.” Then he grinned, and played with one tasseled end of the scarf he found, twirling the strands around his finger. Ava rolled her eyes but let it be.

No one else called him out on it and no one else asked him why. That was that. They might answer to a handler, but anyone who’s anyone (in Unit Bravo, that is) knows who runs the show and makes all the big calls. Nat just asked him to avoid neon whenever possible, because it hurt her eyes. And neon might be a little too bright for sneaking through cities at night, cool and vampire-like, so it wasn’t as if she had to twist his arm about it. Not that she would.

Mason, maybe. Or Ava.

In short, though, the team didn’t give him shit for it. No more than they already do, which is kind of part of being in a team. You don’t spend as much time together as they do and not get on each other’s nerves sometimes.

Almost like a family.

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc #twc fanfic #felix hauville #f hauville #tidbit tuesday #fic wip #so strange not adding my usual tags lmao #also I’m ridiculously nervous writing for a new fandom I’m sorry 😭

[dailycharacteroption]

Corrupting Influences: Vampirism part 5

(art by Defexx on DeviantArt)

 Conclusions

 And so it is that we’ve reach an end to this special about the vampirism corruption in Pathfinder, and to our specials on corruptions in general. Truly it is an end to an era, but hopefully a start of new beginnings as well.

 Before we share our final thoughts about the corruption itself, however, let’s take a moment to re-examine what vampires were throughout history. Certainly today’s corruption mostly takes it’s cues from the Dracula novel, but vampires have existed well before that.

Indeed, looking back on the oldest stories where the word “vampire” was used, it’s pretty clear that the concept of vampires, like almost every undead in pop culture, was born out of the idea of someone who is dead deciding not to act like it and wander around being a menace. In fact, the oldest stories of vampires make them seem more akin to what we think of now as a “zombie”, far from the glamourous unearthly beautiful immortals we typically think of today.

Over time, so many folk remedies to these undead horrors and stories of their abilities congealed into a vague grab-bag of otherworldly traits and rules, may of which survive to this day, such as the garlic weakness, fear of the holy, and so on, though others like the running water thing or the even more obscure rose on the coffin thing are typically forgotten.

In fact, such an eclectic collection of traits have lead to many audiences, (particularly western ones) conflating other similarly storied shamblers from across the globe such as jiang-shi or vrylokas as also being vampires or vampire-adjascent, or perhaps different strains of the same singular unholy malice (Looking at you, Vampire the Masquerade).

It is perhaps because of this combination of history and variability which has likely helped their survivability as a concept. Well, that, and Bram Stoker’s iconic novel, which you should read if you get the chance. I hear there might be an electronic mailing list that might help with that.

Regardless, Dracula was instrumental in putting vampires on the map, and perhaps most importantly, was a rare exception in that it was a gothic horror story where the horror in question is not limited to some dreary manor of a declining family, but in fact follows the protagonist home and really gets to show what happens when you unleash an intelligent undead horror on an unsuspecting populace.

Since then, vampires have evolved a lot since then, ranging from monsters to, well… attractive partners. Like all monsters, however, people tend to use them as symbolism, and not all of them were kind symbols, such as Carmilla, a story about a young woman who finds herself attracting the attention of an older woman who later turns out to be a creature of the night. Of course, folks have a tendency to reclaim symbols used to demonize them, so you’ll find plenty of LGBT+ immortals that are straight-up heroic in nature.

 In any case, however, the vampirism corruption I find is that perfect blend of fun powers fitting the theme, while also establishing a certain level of urgency that some corruptions lack. For the victim it’s a nice bit of body and psychological horror rolled into one as their victimization weakens and then changes them, while those who don’t understand what is going on can only look on in powerless horror.

On the subject of the corruption subsystem, I suppose I ought to give my final thoughts on it as well. Horror Adventures the supplement had it’s flaws, but the corruptions were definitely a good idea, creating a way that a character can get a taste of the powers of “contagious” monsters, but giving them drawbacks not just in the direct penalties of each ability, but also in the lingering knowledge that things might go too far. It forces would-be powergamers that might deliberately try to gain a monstrous transformation to rethink doing so, or at least properly roleplay the challenges associated with it.

Overall I consider it a good subsystem, one that is both flavorful and mechanically fun.

 And with that I don’t have much to add, so I’ll conclude. It’s a bit sad saying goodbye to a subsystem and special like this, but I’m always coming up with new things to do here, so it’s fine. Have a good weekend, folks, and look forward to more archetypes next week!

#pathfinder #corruption #vampirism #Horror Adventures

[secretwhumplair]

Encounter

869 words | Zombies & vampires

Prompt | @writing-prompt-s

Content | Zombie apocalypse, mention of family death

Notes | It is here! The great vampire bloodbag in a zombie apocalypse cyoa is here!

>>The actual cyoa will go here!<<

There are no real choices yet because. I have not written them lol. But soon. I'll be sure to post updates here! Maybe let me know if you have preferences so I can get an idea where to focus?

Days were grey and uniform, blending together in Dale's mind.

In the mornings, they tried to get some sleep. The zombies became lethargic by daylight, unable to scramble up to Dale's neighbours' treehouse that had become their shelter, now that their neighbours, along with everyone else, were long gone in every way that mattered.

The zombies still assembled around the tree, but they were sluggish enough Dale could usually fight their way through them in the afternoon, going on a raid for whatever food was left in the supermarkets. They had tried to get their hands on some survivalist books in the abandoned bookstores, but they still knew desperately little.

Then, they had to make sure they returned to the safety of their treehouse before nightfall. The zombies would have dispersed, moving in a general Dale direction all day but never catching up to them, but come darkness, the real horror began.

They would have to move soon; they were, it appeared, the only living human left here, and sooner or later they would have attracted every zombie for miles around. Every night, it became harder to fight off the horde trying to get to them with almost-human vigour, and even fewer inhibitions.

They had put off leaving what little comfort their home could offer, but they knew they were running out of time. They had scouted out an unlocked bicycle for the task, but they didn't know where to go, not really.

This morning, exhausted to the bone by the time dawn finally broke, their arms sore from swinging their feeble baseball bat all night to keep them from climbing in, a vicious, throbbing scratch down their leg from where one had almost succeeded, Dale decided the day had finally come.

They needed rest, but they also needed the daylight, so after a breakfast of canned peaches - the last they had left - they packed what little they found useful anymore into their backpack, and grabbed their bat.

For a few minutes, they stared at the house that had once been their home before they climbed down from what had been their shalter for the last few months. They soaked up the look of the familiar streets under the dull grey sky one last time as they walked toward the bicycle.

And then they were on their way.

Making it to the next small town over should be doable in a day. They had overestimated their speed, they were so tired, but they were still making good progress. Once they had reached the outskirts of the city, it became eerily peaceful. All the zombies had been attracted to - if not created in - the city, and now all they heard was the birds and bugs going about their business as if humanity never mattered at all.

They reached the town they had aimed for with barely an hour of daylight left. They had hoped for more time to find shelter, but they would have to make do. They'd have to.

They were so tired the temptation was great to just drop in the nearest sort-of enclosed space and go to sleep, but they couldn't do that. They had made it so far. They were the last person to remember all their friends and family.

They'd have to find a good spot, and survive the night, and then they could rest.

They tried not to let their exhaustion cloud their judgment, but they couldn't be sure when they stumbled up the staircase of an apartment building whose front door hadn't been properly closed, their injured leg aching. Several of the apartment doors had been broken open as well, and Dale forced themself to check each apartment out.

In the end, they simply settled for the one highest up. They could see if there was anything in favour of the other when they had gotten some sleep.

The bathroom door was still intact, and it locked just fine.

This would do.

Dale dropped their backpack on the floor, put on their headlamp, and took up their baseball bat. They hoped it wouldn't be bad. Maybe, over the course of the past few weeks, all the zombies had wandered from here to where they'd come from.

Maybe they weren't the only survivor in this town.

The night started out so quiet keeping the light on felt like a waste of battery, but they couldn't be caught off guard.

And sure enough, after some time, they heard tell-tale steps outside, coming up the staircase.

To their surprise, those sounds were followed by something of a scuffle, and then a minute of quiet.

Then, something slammed into the bathroom door.

The door cracked open far too easily. This wasn't a zombie, not even many zombies.

The creature that entered did so with a grace that had nothing to do with the scrambling fervour Dale was used to. Its eyes flashed in Dale's direction.

Dale stumbled away from the door until their back hit the wall, gripping their baseball bat with white knuckles. Fangs glinted in the weak light of their headlamp.

A vampire.

And they had been fool enough to believe things couldn't get worse.

#whump #cyoa #zombie apocalypse #vampire #vampire whump #my writing #dale #zombies and vampires #vampires and zombies

[iwritelmao]

SO I HAD AN IDEA

as I normally do when I’m hyperfixating, I decided to write fanfiction bc sometimes the source material doesn’t/can’t give us anything and everything.

anyway I hear there’s a discussion about Astarion being a good dad vs Astarion being a bad dad. And apparently Neil Newbon himself declared the latter. I’m definitely inclined to agree.

SO I made an OC who’s father is Astarion. And drew up a character sheet for them. But the character sheet is rly messy and is drawn onto sketchbook paper so that won’t be shown till I can make it neat and legible lol

Anyway, read below the cut for more info (TW: mentions of suicide)

Dawn was born to Selene Windor, an elven poet and artist in a small port town. Her father, she never knew, only hearing stories artfully crafted by Selene.

Selene had lived on the Seaview Docks for a long time, a number of human generations. She was an elf after all. She knew the residents and in time would know the residents’ grandchildren. They knew her as well. The old, yet eternally young bard who lived on the edge of town.

But of course, this tended to get old. Hundreds of equinoxes and solstices blended together into beautiful and torturous monotony. She longed for excitement.

When an outsider visited, which rarely happened at the docks, save for fishers and merchants, everything changed. It was sparked by a mere few seconds of eye contact under the stars.

Selene had been shopping for fish at the night market—a familiar town tradition where lanterns and stalls decorated the moonlit street once every month—when she saw him. Pointed ears, a sharp jawline, and white curls that rivaled her own pin straight honey blonde. When their eyes met, he paused for a moment then flashed her a toothy grin.

They met in the middle of the market. She asked where he was from, he said “everywhere.” He asked the same, and she said “nowhere.” She asked his name. He said “whatever you want” with a smile that made Selene want to cry out in joy.

He stayed in town for months—the blink of an eye for an elf. She wrote of nothing but Him, painted Him, loved Him with everything she had, trying to guess a name that she knew would never amount to his beauty and the kindness he showed her.

So he called her his moon, and him her stars.

He offered to take her places, far-away places, more often than not. She politely declined. He even told her the truth about what he was, and she only loved him more for it.

He almost stayed. Almost.

The night before the stars faded he loved her like he had never loved anyone before. More truly than he had loved anyone before. He offered once more to take her away, to somewhere called Baldur’s Gate, a bustling city where her art could grow and travel beyond ports and docks. He even shed a tear of blood when at last he said that he’d take her to meet his family, his voice pleading and sorrowful.

She politely declined.

And he left in the morning. Before she could even tell him that she was with child.

Selene was driven mad with grief, destroying all of the paintings and locking away all of the poems.

When Dawn arrived, she cried. The little girl looked just like him, with wavy blonde hair only a shade away from white. Though she had her mother’s dark brown eyes, or so Selene thought.

Looking closer at the baby, she realized that her dark eyes had just a tint of scarlet over them.

Of course. The baby was a Dhampir.

Throughout Dawn’s childhood, she had to support her mother, who never left the house anymore. She worked when she could and stole when she couldn’t. And it was more often than not that she couldn’t due to the fact that everyone in the small town seemed to know what she was. The spawn of a vampire spawn.

It was one thing for a child to grow up without any friends. It was a complete other thing for a child to grow up being feared just because she had to drain chickens or raw cow meat from the market to survive.

When she was thirteen, a burglar came through the town. The body was found at the base of the docks after the third night of thievery, drained of blood.

When she was fifteen, it was a merchant’s son. The out of towner survived with a bite mark on his neck and some lightheadedness.

Dawn decided it was best to spend most of her time inside, taking care of her mother.

Selene had written little other than sorrowful poems about lost love, and could no longer remember the face of Dawn’s father to paint again. When she told Dawn the story, she told it with fondness, but would break down in a fit of tears and keening shortly after, if not right in the middle.

Dawn never saw the story as beautiful or fond. She did not see her father as someone who would ever come back and love them both despite her mother’s hysteric protests.

When she was eighteen, Dawn returned home to find her mother on the floor of the kitchen, dead. There was a bottle of poison in her hand and the everlasting look on her face was that of tear stained grief.

She knew this was coming. She knew it would happen eventually. For what elf would want to live for over six hundred years without the one they were convinced was their true love.

And so, the dhampir girl set out, her mind clouded with anger, yet sharp with a thirst for blood and revenge. She would go to Baldur’s Gate. She would find the man who killed her mother, whether it be indirectly or not. And she would kill Him.

Though she was not quite prepared for things to go as awry as they had.

PT2: https://www.tumblr.com/iwritelmao/738342079719178240/pt2?source=share

#I rly don’t plan to make this a long form thing #like maybe it’ll be a series of one shots #or something like that #you guys can request stuff too with this character #like i think my asks are open #bg3 #bg3 oc #baldur's gate 3 #dadstarion #astarion bg3 #astarion #oc #I love my family of tragic vampire rogues