#I have like three vampire aus at this point I have a problem
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Vampire!Simon AU Timeline
I tried to keep this loose and simple but it ended up being a lot more detailed than I expected. This is a pretty comprehensive timeline of my AU's backstory for anyone who wants to know more or just wants a clear idea what wtf is happening. Enjoy!
Ok so pre-Mushroom War:
This remains largely unchanged- Simon finds the crown, loses Betty, etc.
Maybe due to Simon’s interest in ancient artifacts, he’s aware of vampire lore and has even found some ancient stakes with traces of an unknown species’ DNA on them on past expeditions
He’ll never have the chance to publish the results of his findings
After the War (aka post-apocalypse Simon and Marcy):
Simon finds Marcy and instantly knows he has to protect her, she learns about the crown’s influence, etc
They encounter the Vampire King and his court
VK is initially surprised to see a non-vampiric magic user, especially one as strong as Simon, until he realizes that it’s all from the crown (he witnesses Marcy plead with Simon to take off the crown bc he’s going too nuts)
VK also has an interest in Marceline, the little girl that keeps trying to suck out the Fool’s soul as he toys with her. She's clearly not human and that piques his interest
VK defeats Simon and takes the crown. He’s not interested in Simon himself but does think Marcy might one day become a powerful member of his court. But she’s fiercely loyal to Simon so VK strikes a bargain- Simon lives if Marcy comes with him. (Really, at this point he was willing to kill Simon and just take Marcy but VK saw the madness the crown inflicted and thinks Simon can advise him on how to resist it)
As part of the King’s court:
The Vampire King isn't interested in letting humans live in his hive unless they're soon to be butchered.
So Simon is bit and turned. He’s told to abandon his human name and accept the once given to him- Temperance, one of the three arcane virtues. It represents patience and moderation ordinarily, but represents discord and conflicting interests when inverted.
Marcy still calls him Simon in secret
Simon is stunned that the VK can resist the crown’s madness to a certain extent as he masters its control over snow and ice
The hardest part about being a vampire for him is no longer being able to enjoy sunlight, as on his expeditions and while taking care of Marcy, he fundamentally understood that daylight = visibility and safety and that night= danger
Marceline will be bitten when she turns 18. In the mean time, she’ll be tutored by Simon and treated like a princess by the minions.
Marceline gets her own room, all the food she can eat, a soft bed, etc. She wants for nothing not out of kindness, but bc the VK knows this is an easy way to win her over. Marcy isn't stupid, but she is just a kid. After the trauma surrounding being sent away by her mom, and believing she was unwanted, Marcy is terribly tempted to follow her less than human instincts in the face of a better life for herself
Simon worries for her and tries to keep her close to him. Which isn't easy, as the VK is cunning and ruthless
Marceline also begins training at a young age. She learns to hone her power of sucking souls and when its learned that she can gain the unique abilities of her victims, the VK brings in all sorts of prey for her- humans, wolves, birds of prey, snakes, etc. in the belief it will make her stronger.
The VK is only ever kind and patient to Marcy as she grows up, almost like Simon but with an unspoken air of absolute authority. Still, it convinces her that he's not all that bad despite the fact that he's wiping out all the humans. Since Simon isn't human anymore, Marcy doesn't really feel that protecting humans = protecting him.
But the problem is that Simon hates being a vampire. He hates the taste of blood despite his inability to consume human food. He begins looking for alternative solutions and find that vampires can merely consume the color red
He's ostracized by the court for his meek personality and his frequent pleads for them to stop killing humans. What little power he had with the court is threatened as the VK requires his aid less and less over time. The VK begins to consider manipulating the sky itself so his kind is safer in the day
When Marcy is 16-17, Simon ushers her into a secret chamber beneath the vampire hive. For years, he'd been slowly stockpiling supplies so they can escape. Things like weapons, sturdy clothes, food, etc. What's more, he'd managed to find and repair a car! They can escape together and get away before anyone even notices they're gone.
Marcy is stunned that Simon wants to go back to a life of constantly being on the run, hungry and afraid. Having no home or safe place to sleep in. And with his condition, he'd have to be extra careful of the sun. Simon says how much he hates being a vampire and that he doesn't want this for her, he did all this to save her!
But he never did ask if Marceline herself was opposed to becoming a vampire. However, her love for Simon still outweighs her loyalty to the VK. She agrees to run away.
One of the funniest parts of the Stakes miniseries is that the VK is confirmed to have telepathy but he only really used it to psychically give Peppermint Butler and autograph. So I'm going to use that- the VK has been reading Simon's mind for years without letting him know and has known for a long time that Simon's been trying to run away
Simon and Marcy don't get very far before 2 things happen: the VK himself goes after them, and they're stopped by a small army of survivors lead by a pink haired girl (idc if PB would still be a tiny wad of gum at this point in the OG Ooo timeline it's my AU)
The VK ignores the attempts to assassinate him as he takes Marcy back to the hive. Meanwhile, Simon is captured by the humans and left for dead.
Here's the fun part- Simon's unique vampire power is a remnant of the crown's influence on him. He can cover his body in dense ice that acts like armor. It can be chipped away or melted, but resists damage really well
after multiple failed attempts to kill him, Simon tries to strike a bargain with Bonnie. Let him go, and he'll help her kill the vampire king
meanwhile, Marcy is crying in her room bc she thinks Simon is dead and she blames herself bc she never should've gone with him (something that the VK tells her he agrees with)
but Simon manages to come back unharmed. The only way he'd be able to do that was if he killed the humans that captured him. The VK is begrudgingly impressed. He'll still have simon separated from marcy for a year as punishment, though.
Marcy hugs Simon and tells him that she's glad he's alright. And that it'll be okay. He spent so long protecting her, from now on she's going to protect him (after all, the last time she thought she'd ever see him, he was about to be killed by a human mob. That event cements Marcy's belief that following the VK is what's best for her and Simon)
It absolutely breaks Simon's heart
Marcy turns 18 and Simon cannot stop her from becoming The Star
(while Simon is in isolation/solitary confinement, the VK frequently taunts him over a telepathic link- telling him how hard Marceline is working to become strong. To become a killer. The VK finds that messing with Simon is so utterly delectable)
As Temperance and the Star:
Marceline and Simon go by their vampire names when they’re among others but still use their human names in private
The VK brings on the sunless sky that allows vampires even more freedom than before
he ignores Simon's pleas to return the world to its natural ways. After all this time, he finds Simon's ways not annoying, but oddly endearing. He is the contrary voice to the whole court, after all; and though he might not have much power, the bravery to speak out against the king is commendable to some extent
Marcy begins her unending feud/hate-crush on Bonnie, who Simon secretly aids
Simon is mostly left to himself since Marceline is her own person now.
He starts growing a small garden of red food, assembling a library, etc. But most importantly, he tries to save any human child he finds
The VK got Marceline as his ward, why can't Simon have his own? He promises the court that the child will be his full responsibility and the king, mostly out of amusement and curiosity, lets Simon adopt his precious human children
however, Marcy can't help but feel like Simon is doing the exact same thing her mom did- he's scared of her or doesn't love her anymore, so he's trying to go away. Except this time, he's replacing her in front of her very eyes with some tiny, fearful brat that can't appreciate just how kind and loving Simon is
over the next few centuries, every member of the king's court except for the Star dies off. In every instance, Marceline takes advantage of their death to suck up their essence. The VK admires her for this.
at the same time, no ward of Simon's has managed to survive to about 11-12. Sometimes it was a hungry vampire that killed them, most of the time it was Marceline sneaking behind his back to kill off her replacement, and sometimes it was mere disease that ended them. He lost poor Shoko to infection after Marceline took her arm in a jealous rage and that put off Simon from taking on another ward for a hundred years
HOWEVER, Marceline still really loves Simon and wants to be close with him again. She's... just not sure how anymore. Simon still smiles at her and tells her stories and lets her crash in his library when she wants to avoid boring meetings or whatnot, he cares for her yes- but he never seems proud of her for accomplishing great feats like killing 100 human rebels in one night or taking Bonnie's eye
Simon still holds out hope that there's good in Marcy and that she can be persuaded to help him and Bonnie kill the king/her other dad
And then Finn comes along.
(For anyone wondering, I haven't really touched upon how the VK ends up infatuated with Simon bc I'm still figuring that out. But also, I don't think it needs to be clearly defined, it'd be a lot more fun to just see Simon winding up in essentially an arranged marriage
HOWEVER I will say this- the vampire king once asked Simon for a special gift in an attempt for them to become closer. He asked Simon to give him a mortal name, as all he knows is a life as an undying king.
Simon obliged and after much thought, he chose the name Leonidas. They are the only two beings who know the king’s secret name and use it, it’s something not even Marceline knows.)
#simon petrikov#fionna and cake#vampire au#the vampire king#finn the human#marceline the star#fionna and cake spoilers
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Anthony Lockwood x reader master list
Key:
❤️ - happy/fluff
💙 - sad/angst
💛 - platonic ship
💚 - gn!reader
💜 - author's favourite
Late Night, 2.8k words
lockwood x fem!reader
Y/n just wants Anthony Lockwood to go to sleep for once; he's starting to look more like a raccoon than a human being.
❤️
Little Kipps miniseries, 5.4k words
part one, part two, part three
lockwood x fem!kipps!reader
Lockwood had no idea just how lovely somebody related to Quill Kipps could be.
❤️
Idiot, 9.4k words
lockwood x fem!reader
(requested by anon): Y/n L/n and Anthony Lockwood were childhood best friends, up until the point she walked out on him after an argument. A few years later, and many cases of Y/n and her Fittes team saving Lockwood and co's asses, can they figure out their differences?
❤️
Puppy, 3.5k words
lockwood x fem!reader
(requested by anon): Anthony Lockwood has a girlfriend, but nobody else knows that. Convenient for him when, on a night out after a difficult case, Kipps bets money that Lockwood can't get a kiss out of the pretty bartender who just so happens to be the aforementioned girlfriend. Unfortunately, Lockwood is quite drunk.
❤️💜
Relic (wo)man, 2.7k words
lockwood x fem!relic hunter!reader
(requested by @superpositvecloudshipper): what about a relic hunter fem reader x Anthony lockwood where reader fights lockwood over an important relic in doing so he pulls off her hood revealing she's a girl which shocks him she runs off leaving relic with him, few days later she turns up at his door very much injured and he immediately helps her then asks why she came and she tells him she has nowhere else to go (all her family is dead expect her dad who is like the most dangerous relic hunter)
❤️
Hopeless Romantics, 1.7k words
lockwood x fem!reader
Lockwood and the reader's relationship through various hopelessly romantic dates
❤️
You Shall Go to the Ball!, 9.8k words
lockwood x fem!reader
(requested by anon): Hey, I don't know if you accept requests, but I have one. Reader(she is George's sister) accompanies Lockwood&co to the ball at Fittes and she is jealous when she sees Lockwood talking to the girl (maybe reader enemy or something)most of the time. She decides to interrupt the conversation and introduces herself as his wife, while showing the ring Lucy gave her, explaining what to do. A long chapter please😊
❤️ and a tiny bit of 💙
Pretty, 3.4k words
lockwood x gn!reader
(requested by anon): Saw your post about Lockwood ideas so here's one! Reader and Lockwood have an extremely close call on a case and in the heat of the moment, Lockwood ends up kissing the reader.
❤️💚
‘tis the damn season, 10.4k words
lockwood x fem!reader
(requested by anon): can I request a Lockwood x fem reader based on tis the damn season by Taylor swift?
Absolutely no happy ending to this one
💙💙💙 and a tiny bit of ❤️, 💜
Bite Me - Vampire au (ongoing series, will be updated when Deck the Halls is complete)
THIS IS GOING TO BE AN 18+ FIC
Vampire!Lockwood x fem!vampire!reader
link is for the series master list, but currently there is only the prologue up there <3
Deck the Halls (and not your partner) series (completed), 54.3k words
lockwood x fem!reader
When a phone call with Y/n's mother goes wrong, she ends up needing to bring someone home to pretend to be her boyfriend for three days in the English countryside. With only a short amount of time before she needs to leave, her only option is her boss Anthony Lockwood. The only problem is, she hates her boss. And he hates her. Christmas will be interesting this year, especially when a snowstorm hits and blocks all transport.
❤️ and a little bit of 💙 later on (but mostly just ❤️), 💜💜💜
Reverse damsel in distress situation (head canons)
prince!lockwood x fem!knight!reader
❤️
part 2 - gn!knight!reader
❤️💚
You can what?!, 2k words
lockwood x cousin!reader, locklyle
(requested by anon): Hey! If you’re still taking requests, can I request platonic Lockwood x reader (cousin) who finds out reader can communicate with like, weaker ghosts
💛💚
Happy New Year, 1.7k words
lockwood x fem!reader
I just felt like writing this, but reader and lockwood and co spend New Years together (and a kiss)
❤️
beautiful people, 2.1k words
lockwood x gn!reader
requested by anon: hi hi! Can I request Anthony Lockwood x reader fic inspired by the song beautiful people by ed Sheeran?
❤️💚
The Greatest Thing, 4.2k words
lockwood x fem!reader
requested by anon: Hi, I love the way you write! I was wondering (if requests are still open) if you could write a Lockwood x reader where reader's mother died when she was little for some reason, and by taking on a case reader and Lockwood find themselves having to fight the ghost of reader's mother ? And maybe even Lockwood calming Reader down after the mission? Feel free to change parts. (btw: sorry if English is terrible, I'm Italian, English is not my native language)
❤️ and a little bit of 💙
paper rings, 10.2k words
lockwood x fem!reader
based on the Taylor Swift song, featuring a lot of innuendos and mildly explicit content, but pretty much just pure fluff
❤️ and nothing else really, 💜
college au
#lockwood and co#anthony lockwood#lockwood & co#anthony lockwood x reader#anthony lockwood x you#lockwood x reader
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Chris, werewolf or vampire au, you asking him to bite you for the first time while intimate. Anything else goes! 💜
I know you didn't ask for all dis but I felt inspired so thanks :) I picked vampire since most folx do wolfchris.
ᴛʜᴇ ᴄɪᴛʏ sʟᴇᴇᴘs [ ʙᴀɴɢᴄʜᴀɴ ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ ᴀᴜ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ]
ʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ: 𝟷𝟾+ ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: sᴍᴜᴛ, ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ!ᴄʜʀɪs, ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴅᴇsᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ɢᴏʀᴇ, ʀᴏʙʙᴇʀʏ, ᴇʀᴏᴛɪᴄ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅᴘʟᴀʏ
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 𝟺.𝟷ᴋ
In that blurred state between awake and asleep, an unsettling jolt shakes you into consciousness, as if you were dangling on the edge of a cliff. Startled, you awaken on the couch, yawning and taking in the surrounding darkness. The paused Netflix series, interrupted by the persistent question, "Are you still watching?" lingers on the screen.
To be honest, you had long lost interest in the show, drifting away to find solace in the soothing embrace of slumber. Your weary mind, burdened by the irrevocable sorrow of losing your closest friend, sought refuge in the realm of dreams. As you glance around the dimly illuminated living room, you remind yourself to tidy up the scattered clothes strewn across the floor. Empty water bottles have accumulated like forgotten relics on any available surface, accompanied by a disheveled pile of unwashed dishes, a task that feels insurmountable in your current state of apathy.
It’s been exactly twenty four days, ten hours, and six minutes since you saw Chan die right in front of your eyes. Time becomes your tether, an illusion of control amidst the chaos that now engulfs you. In the prime of his youth, brimming with aspirations, Chan was snatched away too soon. The bond you forged in college carried you through the vibrant years of your twenties, but now, as you approach the threshold of thirty, he is painfully absent, no longer there to mock your aging despite being a mere year your junior.
Chan would give you endless advice about issues that now seemed to be so petty and irrelevant, and when texts weren’t enough at 12am, he would phone you to try to get you to relax and go to bed, promising to destroy you in a good ol’ game of mario kart the next day if you’d get some rest. He was wrong, you always dominated in mario kart, but the competitive shit talking would effectively distract you, which was the whole point. You’d hang up the phone feeling lighter somehow, as if he snatched the problems right from your shoulders and cast them into the skies.
In the realm of forbidden love, Chan possessed all the qualities that could make him the perfect boyfriend. But destiny had other plans, tying him to a five-year relationship while you were bound in a three-year commitment of your own. When your unfaithful partner betrayed you once more, Chan became your guiding light, reminding you of your worth just weeks before his tragic end. As friendship kindled into something more, an intense love grew within you, surpassing mere friendship. Respectful of his relationship, you kept your feelings in check, even though you didn't truly care for Chan's girlfriend. She transformed from a cheerleader to an OnlyFans personality, lacking the depth you believed Chan deserved. But who were you to decide his path? Despite their arguments, he found fragments of happiness with her... at least, when their love wasn't overshadowed by bitter fights every other week.
Tears welled up, spilling over your waterline, as thoughts of him consumed your mind once more. Desperate to escape the crushing weight of guilt that enveloped you, you sought distractions, attempting to forget that you blame yourself for his untimely departure. His family held you responsible too, believing that if only you hadn't taken those shortcuts through dimly lit alleys after your bowling night, the mugging would never have occurred. It was in that moment, face-to-face with a hooded figure, demanding your wallet, that Chan's selflessness emerged. Without hesitation, he confronted the assailant, triggering a violent response. The stranger swiftly plunged a blade into Chan's abdomen, tearing upward through his fragile organs before vanishing into the night.
As his lifeless body crumpled to the ground, blood staining his shirt and spreading with alarming speed, you were rendered utterly helpless, reduced to screams of despair. With trembling hands, you pressed against the wound, begging, pleading for him to stay, to hold on, your desperate pleas piercing the air as you cried out for help. A cook on a smoke break nearby heard your anguished cries and dialed for an ambulance. He handed you a grimy towel, urging you to apply more pressure, even as Chan slipped away, inch by agonizing inch.
"I... I think I'm... dying," he choked, blood seeping from the corners of his mouth, impeding his speech.
"No! You can't be dying! Don't you dare leave me, Chan! Don't you dare leave me like this!" you screamed, your voice strained and desperate.
He gasped, his lungs drowning in a sea of crimson. "I'm... sorry..."
Those were his last words before his body turned limp, the light extinguished from his eyes. You trembled uncontrollably, your body racked with violent sobs, cradling his lifeless form in your lap, willing him to awaken. It had to be a terrible nightmare, a cruel figment of your imagination. It couldn't be real...
Tears streaming down your face, you snatch a nearby mug and hurl it with all your might, watching it shatter against the wall. The sobs come pouring out, a torrent of frustration at the unfairness of life. How could it take away your best friend? You would have given the mugger everything you had, knowing that material possessions could be replaced, but not the irreplaceable bond you shared with Chan.
Without bothering to wipe your tear-stained cheeks, you rise unsteadily and stumble into the bathroom, flicking on the humming light above. The room comes alive, illuminating your trembling figure. In your hand, you clutch a bottle of newly prescribed psychiatric medication, its lid beckoning you to open it and plunge into a sea of pills. It's not the first, second, or even third time that you've contemplated consuming the entire bottle, escaping from this world altogether.
But then, as if echoing from the depths of your soul, you hear Chan's voice, a gentle reminder that pierces through the darkness.
‘Don’t be stupid, that won’t fix anything’
Taking a deep breath, you swallow the prescribed dose meant to help you weather the toughest storms. You tilt your head under the faucet, quenching your thirst as the water washes down the medication. With a swift motion, you turn off the tap and wipe your mouth with the side of your arm. Glancing briefly at your reflection in the mirror, you observe your disheveled appearance—a ponytail barely holding your hair in place, the emergence of weary bags under your eyes, a sight you've never witnessed before. The image worsens the pain within, reminding you of the toll this grief has taken. With a heavy heart, you exit the bathroom, your hand dragging along the light switch, plunging the room into darkness before retreating to the solace of your bedroom.
The bed lies in disarray, a nest of tangled sheets and blankets inviting you to seek solace within its embrace. Collapsing onto it, face first, you release a heavy sigh, shutting your eyes tightly, desperately wishing for a touch of magic to undo everything that has unfolded. Doubts persist, refusing to release their grip, leaving you questioning whether this reality is nothing more than a haunting nightmare or a cruel trance from which you are yet to awaken.
A tap at the window brushes against your senses, but you dismiss it as yet another figment of your restless imagination. The pills are beginning to take effect, gently lulling you into a peaceful slumber amidst the chaos of your bed. Another tap, insistent and persistent, echoes against the glass pane. Your mind races, reminding you that your apartment is situated on the fourth floor, rendering it impossible for anyone to be knocking on your window. Fear grips your heart, the notion of an intruder scaling your fire escape sending shivers down your spine. Instinctively, you lunge for your phone, intent on dialing emergency services.
"Don't do that!"
Time freezes as the unexpected voice reverberates through the room. Your finger hovers above the final digit of 9-1-1, your eyes darting up to the window. Darkness surrounds you, but the moon's radiant glow and the streetlights outside offer a faint illumination, revealing the silhouette standing before you, but the math still isn’t mathing for you yet.
“You’re not crazy, I promise.”
You feel yourself growing nauseated. What type of sick psychosis is this? Was someone playing a trick on you?
“Let me in.”
Surely that voice sounds just like Chan, hell, the silhouette is lit enough for you to see the outline of his face, but your brain still can’t make sense of it.
“Y/N let me in and I can explain, but it still won’t make any fucking sense. I didn’t have anywhere else to go just…please.”
His plea resonates deep within your being, compelling you to rush towards the window, swiftly unlatching it and pushing it open. Disbelief washes over you as you behold the figure before you. It's Chan, undoubtedly, from head to toe, but he's adorned in a suit that exudes an unmatched elegance, surpassing anything he ever wore in his human form.
"I must be going insane," you mutter, the words escaping your lips at last.
"No, you're not," he replies, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. Casting a glance around, he heaves a sigh. "Can I come in?"
Furrowing your brows, you find yourself utterly perplexed. “W-What the fuck is going on?”
"I can't enter unless you give me permission," he explains, his voice tinged with urgency. "And I can't explain it all out here. Just... tell me I can come in."
Your mouth opens, then closes. With guarded uncertainty, you finally utter the words that will forever alter the course of this enigmatic encounter. "You can come in."
"Finally," he murmurs, effortlessly climbing through your window. You watch in wide-eyed astonishment as he surveys your room. "Did a tornado sweep through here or something?"
Silence hangs heavy in the air as you remain rooted in place, your mouth slightly ajar. Chan settles on your bed, patting the space beside him. "Sorry, probably not the best timing for jokes right now."
"Are you some kind of ghost?" you stammer, desperately seeking an explanation for the inexplicable.
"You're incredibly stubborn, you know that?" he retorts, patting the bed insistently. "Just sit."
Reluctantly, you take a seat beside him, feeling a mix of curiosity and apprehension. He reaches out and clasps your hand in his own. It's chillingly cold, like grasping an ice pack pulled from the freezer. Startled, you snatch your hand back, inching away from him. “What the fuck is going on?”
"I'm still trying to figure that out," he admits, tilting his head slightly and hooking his index finger under his lower lip, revealing a lengthened fang that stands out amidst his otherwise perfect teeth.
"You've got to be kidding me, Chan," you exclaim, struggling to believe your eyes. "Are you... Are you a..." The word hangs on the tip of your tongue, too unbelievable to utter.
"A vampire?" he finishes your sentence, his voice tinged with a strange mix of resignation and disbelief. "I wouldn't believe it myself if I hadn't woken up in the crematorium, lying on an examination table."
He looks down at his hands, as if seeing them for the first time. “The mortician came in once he heard me freaking out. He was so calm, it was scary. He handed me these clothes, and told me I had a second chance.”
As you listen to his words, the medication begins to take effect, both soothing and disorienting you. Part of you believes that this must be a dream, a hallucination that will fade away upon waking. "Vampires... they're real?" you mumble, the words feeling unreal on your tongue.
"The mortician, the one who took care of me after... after that night, he turned me," Chan explains. "He told me there are others like us, vampires, including the lead cardiovascular surgeon at Greatview Hospital and many more scattered across the country."
You freeze, your eyes scanning his figure intently. "No," you utter, rising to your feet. "No, this can't be true." You repeat the words, trying to convince yourself that you're experiencing a psychotic episode, a figment of your traumatized mind. "I saw you die in my arms."
"I remember," Chan replies gently, his voice now softer and more reassuring. Your guard momentarily falters, accustomed to finding solace in his voice. “Look, I haven’t shown myself to anyone. Not my parents, friends, anybody. I didn’t know where to go, so I came here.”
“I still can’t believe this. I took my meds and I’m hallucinating.”
Chan raises an eyebrow at the mention of medication. “Meds? Since when are you on medication? For what?”
You stretch out your hands in front of you, gesturing dramatically towards the undead being standing before you. "I watched you die!"
"Can you please stop reminding me?" Chan pleads, sighing and rising from the bed. You instinctively take a step back, then another, and another. “I get it, this is really fucking weird, but I’m trying to figure it out too, and you’re the only one I can trust to help me sort through this. Please,” He walks towards you and you take another step back, and another, and another. Chan’s eyes were pleading, and even as a human, you had never seen him so desperate. It was pulling at you in ways you couldn’t understand. “Help me?”
Your back meets the wall, and you find yourself mere inches away from him, lost in his familiar comforting gaze. Perhaps it's the medication surging through your system or the undeniable connection you share, but your fear begins to dissipate, replaced by an inexplicable pull towards him.
"Okay," you whisper, surrendering to the magnetism drawing you closer.
In that instant, he closes the remaining distance, pressing his body against yours, and his lips meet yours in a kiss that defies all expectations. This is nothing like the countless times you've imagined your first kiss with Chan. Despite the unnatural circumstances surrounding him, he is here, in your room, kissing you with lips colder than anything you've ever experienced. Chan was cold like ski vacations that turn into arctic nights with blinding blizzards. He was cold like making snow angels in the remotest sundries of Antarctica. And yet, against your heated warmth, it melded and melted you into a dizziness that made you wonder how someone could kiss you like this. His scent evokes the desperate burning of cedar by humans seeking warmth to survive. He doesn't breathe, his stillness reminiscent of being stranded in the untouched frozen tundra. His taste is like the hidden depths of an iceberg lurking beneath the surface of the sea. Surely humans weren’t capable of such otherworldly capture of the senses in these inexplicable ways.
He lifts you effortlessly, your legs securely wrapping around his waist, as his hand finds support on the wall. With graceful precision, he lowers you down the wall, gently laying you on the floor, making you feel weightless like a delicate dove feather. His lips part slightly, revealing the tips of his sharp teeth just beneath his pale, plush upper lip. You're captivated by the deliberate way he undoes his watch, letting it fall with a thud on the carpet alongside his jacket. His focus on undressing himself is almost ritualistic, as he meticulously undoes each cuff of his sleeves. Was he always like this, or did the blood of his maker course through his veins, influencing his every move? The man above you existed twenty four days, twelve hours, and forty six minutes ago, yet he carries the essence of centuries within him.
“Have you drank blood yet?” you manage to breathe, your gaze fixed on his fingers skillfully unbuttoning his shirt. The question momentarily halts his actions, his eyes still locked on the task at hand. It's a brief pause, lasting only a second or two, before he resumes, his gaze now locked with yours.
“I haven’t bitten anyone.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“That’s what you meant, though, right?”
He looks down again, pulling his shirt from his slacks, the last button falling and revealing his sculpted shoulders as he works on his belt. Your heart races in your chest, the earlier ease dissipating. How did he know? You and Chan shared a deep connection, but it's as if he just read your thoughts without even glancing at your face. As your eyes follow his gaze to the golden, slender belt buckle, you can't help but notice the undeniable hardness that tents the front of his pants.
"The mortician who turned me... he said I'm not ready," Chan reveals, swiftly removing his belt in one fluid motion. Feeling the electricity in the air, you take charge and unbutton his pants, stealing the spotlight for yourself. "Your heartbeat fills my ears, it's so loud. I've been trying to ignore it this whole time, but it's like a pulsating drumbeat," he admits, his relief palpable as his hardness finds release, causing his head to tilt back. It's not just the longing he has harbored for being this close to you, although that's a significant part—it's the way you look at him, the way your pulse quickens, the hitch in your breath—it all makes him crave you, body and soul. He wants to devour you, if he's being completely honest. So he counts the seconds it takes to undo his cuffs, the buttons lining his shirt, hoping to distract himself from the thirst welling up in his mouth that he keeps swallowing.
"A drumbeat," you echo, your voice trembling. "But don't you love music?"
"I do," he replies.
"I thought you couldn't live without music."
"I can't."
"Then... we're okay, right?" you inquire, your hand running along the length of his hardened desire, the cool fabric of his briefs the only barrier between you and its icy touch. Your gaze never wavers from his, a silent plea for reassurance. You want to see the Chan who died protecting you; the Chan who would vanquish this version of himself, even if it meant embarking on a fool's mission.
"You won't hurt me, will you?"
He may not require breath for survival, but the sensation of your touch makes his breath audible, escaping in short, jagged gasps that his teeth can barely contain. You can see it, and you can hear it—the rhythm of his breath intertwined with the flex of his firm muscles, like woven iron beneath his pale, milky skin.
"I could never hurt you," Chan professes, his words laden with sincerity, yet tinged with a sense of unease. He wonders if he can truly bear the weight of that promise, given his newfound struggle with self-control. He captures your lips once more, as you navigate his briefs in a hurried frenzy, responding to his kiss with a fiery intensity. You strive to avoid his fangs, the smooth ivory points that pose a dangerous threat against your swollen lips. Your breath becomes heavy against his mouth as you feel him pressing against your entrance, teasing you with deliberate strokes, spreading slickness and igniting electric shocks throughout your body. Each tiny quiver you make when he brushes past your sensitive clit only serves to undermine his initial plan of taking things slow. Plan A was to resist giving in to desire, but that failed, so Plan B was to proceed with caution. And yet, you were compelling him to venture further down the alphabet until he had exhausted all his options.
Curiosity overtakes you, and you tentatively reach up to touch the tip of his fang, a tad too eagerly, causing your finger to prick. Your reflex pulls away, but before you can retreat an inch, he thrusts inside you and firmly clasps your wrist, bringing it to his lips. It startles you; you've never seen him move so swiftly, almost as if he had teleported. There's no escaping his cold vice grip, and fear grips your heart. You want to protest, to plead for your life, but the words elude you when he fills you completely, his strokes caressing your most sensitive spots again and again. He takes your finger into his mouth, his tongue lapping at the wound, cleansing the blood. In that moment, you sense a shared eroticism, amplifying his pleasure in a primal manner.
He must be on Plan D or E by now, but all semblance of order dissipates when you moan his name and rake your nails down his chest. "Please, bite me. Pretty please? God, I just... I need to feel you—"
Chan's body hovers over yours, his cheek pressing against yours. “Stop begging me like that–”
"Or what?" you challenge, your back arching, breasts pressing into him as your bodies move in sync and he ruts into you. The pace slows, intensifying the sensation, pushing you closer to the edge. It's like a row of slot machines aligning at the casino, anticipation building, and you're on the verge of breaking, so close, incredibly close.
“Shi–you’re such a fucking brat–” Chan huffs against your neck, taking in your scent. It was like blueberries grown in the sunshine were in a basket underneath your skin. He knew exactly where each vessel ran. He could tell the difference between the pace of your veins and the race of your arteries. Each stroke inside you sets his fangs throbbing with need, and soft, guttural groans escape him as he tightens his grip on your hair, propelling both of you towards the precipice.
"Chan..." You try to utter his name, attempting to warn him, to give him a heads up, but words fail you. You're reduced to incoherent babbling, your body spasming and your toes curling. Chan curses into your skin as his sharp teeth break the surface, sinking into your shoulder. He can't halt the inevitable rush of his bite, but he steers clear of major arteries. Regrettably, the bite is deeper than intended, its edges jagged. Once he withdraws his fangs, you feel the warm flow of your own blood cascading down your shoulder. The area quickly goes numb, sending tingling shivers coursing through your body, catching you off guard and propelling you into another climax. It's an unexpected surge of pleasure, enveloping you completely. You've witnessed stars in moments of intimacy before, but now your vision becomes veiled in ethereal auras, akin to cumulus clouds bringing tempestuous weather directly into your bedroom.
Chan's mind goes blank, his instincts taking over as he sensually licks your breast, tracing a path up your collarbone, and back to the healing wound where his hunger led to the mingling of his own blood with yours. Within seconds of savoring your life force, he’s filling you up, his dick buried inside of you as he pulls your hips harder and lets out a broken moan of release. The pleasure tears him away from his consuming desire to drink from you, his hips jerking as he empties himself inside you.
Finally able to catch your breath, you realize he was like oxygen, taking you to another world, albeit a temporary escape. But now, the metallic scent of blood brings you back to reality, a reminder of the way he ravaged your shoulder earlier. The carpet beneath you is damp and sticky, soaked with spilled blood. However, as you touch the area, there's no evidence of the incident on your skin.
"I think it's gone," Chan helps you sit up on the floor, examining the spot on your upper back. True enough, it's smooth, the dried stain of blood serving as the only reminder. "I don't know how, but it's gone."
You touch the area in disbelief. "Wow, it's like it never happened," you say, struggling to recall the intensity of the bite. Concerned for Chan, you ask him if he's okay, considering the overwhelming experience you both just shared.
Chan's expression turns uneasy, his attention abruptly drawn to the window. Confusion and worry cloud his features. "I think... I think I have to go," he stammers, hastily retrieving his clothes and dressing himself as if compelled by an unseen force. He buckles his pants, hurriedly pulls on his shirt, and stumbles toward the window, his actions urgent. You panic and follow after him.
“What’s happening?!”
"I... I don't know. I think I have to go. I just..." Chan collapses to the ground, clutching his ears, crying out in pain as images of the crematorium flash through his mind's eye. "I'll come back another time," he manages to say, raising the window, and in an instant, he's out and down the fire escape, disappearing into the whispers of the city winds.
#skz au#skz fic#christopher bang#skz x reader#bangchan#stray kids au#vampire bangchan#bangchan vampire au#vampire chan#skz vampire au#stray kids vampire fic#skz vampire fic#bangchan fic#bangchan smut#skz smut#bangchan x reader#bangchan skz#asks#skz imagines#bangchan imagines#stray kids imagines
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as one might expect, I am also asking for the boy with the teeth. --@quiescentdestiny
WIP Wednesday (4/3) | Vampire Andrew AU (Part 101)
Neil isn’t sure what was going on with the others all through their little impromptu practice, but it makes him feel like he’s missing something huge. Hell, he thought he was the one with secrets here. But he might not be alone.
Actually, he’s completely alone right now. Sort of. He's in a shower stall. Which he’s incredibly grateful for.
Hiding marks and lumps and bruises has been a struggle his whole life long. And now it’s evolved to scars. None of them are pretty and they all come with a zillion questions. That’s why throughout his time in Millport he always opted to shower last, once everyone else was through. But he’s got plenty of privacy here, so he takes advantage of it. And borrows some of Nicky’s soap.
He’ll have to get some of his own for next time and he jots it down in his mental to-do list. Other items on this list include: finding a safe to keep his binder in, dying his hair again, and kicking Andrew Minyard in the teeth.
He doubts the rest of his team would be alright with that last thing. Maybe he’ll save that one for later. He’s still not sure exactly what Andrew’s problem is. But he knows that he doesn’t like the way the goalie looks at him. Like he wants to hurt him.
Neil knows that look. He’s seen it hundreds of times on dozens of faces. And it always ends badly. He scrubs over that scar on his shoulder and sees a flash of his father, stalking towards him with the iron. Always ends badly…
—
After Neil is done in the shower, he quickly towels off and changes back into the clothes he wore in. Then he’s not sure what to do. Because it’s strange to just stand in here and wait. But he'd rather die than have to spend a minute alone with Andrew out in the stadium.
So… He chooses the creepy waiting option, which gets him a weird look from Aaron, the next one out.
“You don’t have to wait for us. The door’s right there,” Aaron says, earning him no points with Neil.
“Kind of don’t want your brother to kill me or something while Kevin’s not looking.” Neil says, making Aaron’s face twist into something grave and making Nicky laugh nervously as he comes out of his stall with his towel around his waist.
“Yeah. You’re right. You should stay here.” Nicky says. Then he winks. “You can watch me change if you want to.”
Aaron fake gags and Nicky shoves him.
“Um, no offense. But no thanks.” Neil says, closing his eyes to lean against the far wall.
“Well, shucks.” Nicky says, then there’s the rustle of clothes. “You know, Andrew’s not that bad. I think you just caught him on a bad day.”
“Oh really? He must've been having a bad day in Millport, too."
“Yeah, actually,” says Kevin from his stall. “Andrew hates planes. So the flight we had to take to get there rattled him a bit.”
“Oh.” Neil can sort of understand that, but… “So him feeling rattled by a plane means I get my ribs smashed in?”
“Wait, what?” Nicky says, and he’s closer than Neil expects so he opens his eyes to see the backliner fully dressed and rubbing his hair with a t-shirt.
“Andrew swung a racquet into my chest in Millport.” Neil tells him.
“Oh my god.” Nicky looks down at Neil’s abdomen with wide eyes. “He… didn’t really tell us that.”
“I figured.” Neil shrugs. “It’s fine. I lived.”
“Kevin, are you almost done or are you planning on using the county’s entire supply of water?” Aaron says.
Kevin huffs. “I’m almost done.”
“God, the steam is killing me.” Aaron says, starting for the door. Nicky nods and follows and Neil gets in line behind him.
“Oh!” Nicky starts as the three of them exit the locker room. “I forgot to ask, how were you able to tell the minis apart?”
“Don’t fucking call us that,” Aaron says, shoving Nicky arm. But they’re both looking at him expectantly. So Neil gives them the truth.
“Your teeth are different.” Neil says, making Nicky freeze up midstep and Aaron turn to look at him, confused.
“Our teeth.” He repeats.
“Yeah. Andrew’s are sort of pointy. Yours are,” Neil almost says ‘crooked’, but that’s a bit ruder than he means to be, “normal.”
“Oh, that’s weird. I’ve never noticed,” Nicky says, a bit of high-pitched laughter following. Neil gives him a look. He’s not sure how someone who spends a lot of time with the twins wouldn’t notice. Neil recalls the way Andrew had grinned down at him in Millport, the lights had glinted off his teeth and made him look sort of scary. Well, as scary as a five foot tall gnome of a man can be.
“Why, my ears are burning,” says a voice from the stands. It startles Neil a bit, he looks up to see Andrew looking down at him. “You three must be talking about me. How rude.”
#omg this part is like 800 words :') but i didn't wanna split the neil pov up. so... here u go <33#also i JUST wrote this and didn't stop to make edits so. pls forgive mistakes or weirdly worded bits! <3#long post#andreil#aftg#Vampire Andrew AU#WIP Wednesday#🕊️#answered#anon#quiescentdestiny
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Drabble: Red Dress
Dreamling (vampire!Hob/AFAB trans!Dream AU) || Rated E || just under 1k words || complete
Alternate Universe - Magic, vampire!Hob, trans!Dream, AFAB Dream, established relationship, oral sex, cunnilingus, menstrual sex, graphic descriptions of blood, discussion of breeding, discussion of fertility, discussion of a trans man getting pregnant, kissing with menstrual blood on face and lips
Read on AO3 or under the cut
NOTES:
First, I was trying to figure out a title for this drabble and stumbled across the poem at the start. While I know that the title of the poem is "What Do Women Want?" and that clashes with AFAB trans Dream, I just loved the sentiment in the latter half of the poem so much that I needed to include it.
Second, no, stopping one's menstruation via pharmaceutical means does NOT make the flow heavier. I made that up here for plot purposes.
I want that red dress bad.
I want it to confirm
your worst fears about me,
to show you how little I care about you
or anything except what
I want. When I find it, I’ll pull that garment
from its hanger like I’m choosing a body
to carry me into this world, through
the birth-cries and the love-cries too,
and I’ll wear it like bones, like skin,
it’ll be the goddamned
dress they bury me in.
from “What Do Women Want?” by Kim Addonizio
When Hob brings his head up from between Dream’s legs the image is a new definition of obscene.
His face is smeared with fluids from his cheekbones down, everything from pearly delicate pinks to the deep sensual red of a rich cabernet sauvignon. It crosses the arch of his nose, just below where cartilage meets bone, and reaches almost back to his ears. Bits of his short beard clump together into red-black wet points and crimson drips from from the teeth of his open mouth to color his panting tongue scarlet and rose-pink.
Hob’s eyes are so much darker than usual, burgundy irises glinting with the shine of a ruby. He smiles and licks his teeth, emphasizing the pointed canines, then also cleans his lips. “Exquisite,” he purrs.
Dream falls back into the pillows with a whimper, “Holy fuck.” He flings an arm over his face, even the meager light from the candles on the table beside the bed too much additional stimulus. “Hob, please.”
A couple gentle licks between Dream’s folds make him tremble before he gets a response. “Yes, dearest?” How such a creature can sound so innocent Dream will never understand.
He realizes that he doesn’t know what he is begging for, he just lets his legs fall a little more open with a plaintive whine.
Hob’s kisses leave a wet trail on the inside of his thighs. “Oh, I know, sweet thing. I know,” he practically coos. “Do you even know what it is like to come without my bite anymore?” He nips at Dream’s skin but not enough to come close to breaking it; Dream sobs in frustration. “It seems that I can get enough blood this way to manage an erection. You have used your magic to hold static your moonphase for so long that you are bleeding profusely. You have prepared your body for me perfectly, my sweet sorcerer. I will have no problem drilling your cunt into screaming submission.”
Dream moans at the thought. “Then why now? Why wait until now to ask me to stop taking my potions?” he gasps. It has been almost a year since Dream found the emaciated vampire chained up amongst the other ‘oddities’ in Burgess’ collection, freed him along with the others who he was actually there for. Matthew had declared him insane for even going near the vampire, Lucienne had decried his willingness to risk the safety of the Dreaming for a vampire could learn much by taking one’s lifeblood.
But Dream had been captivated even then. The vampire’s dull, almost lifeless gaze, had called to him. Desire had written him off as enthralled. Perhaps he was.
Hob doesn’t answer immediately, sucks and licks until he has taken at least another three mouthfuls and Dream’s eyes have started to fill with tears in his frustration with the lack of consistent attention to his clit. “I was waiting for a special occasion.” He hums, kissing below Dream’s navel. “It has been a long recovery from my imprisonment. I had been damaged more than I was willing to tell even you, dear one.”
That gets the sorcerer’s attention and he is up on his elbows so that he can look at Hob properly. “Hob?”
Hob doesn’t meet his eyes at first, too busy nuzzling into the lowest part of Dream’s abdomen, kissing it reverently, smearing bloody fluids there and then licking them up. When he looks up to Dream his eyes are dark pits of vicious hunger, fully black from one end to the other. “I am healed completely. Now. I can fill you,” he bites, harder but still not hard enough to break skin, “with my seed.”
“What?” Dream gasps, breathless. He cannot possibly mean…
“I would breed you,” Dream interrupts Hob with a high-pitched cry, “my sweet sorcerer. If you will it. You could carry our children. Not turned against their will, but born to the night.” He nuzzles Dream’s belly again. “And most likely daywalkers as well, given your magic. How powerful it is. How it reaches out for me.”
Dream never thought… never in his wildest fantasies that it could… that he… “Fuck.”
Hob crawls up his lover’s body and looks down at him, expression fond. “Only if you wish it. But you would be resplendent,” he presses their stomachs together, “rounded with child.” He slides down and nuzzles the pectoral muscles modified with magic long ago. “And never would you need feel lacking for not coming into milk, for our children would take to blood without hesitation. Either yours… or mine.”
Oh God. An image of Hob, infant in his arms – their child in his arms – taking nourishment from his body, sustained by his body as much as Dream’s. It is surreal. It is fantastical. It is everything.
Dream pulls Hob up by his hair and kisses him, uncaring that he is tasting his own menstrual blood. A squeak of surprise catches in Hob’s throat, but it is only a moment before he groans and curls around Dream’s tongue with his own.
“I don’t know,” Dream pants into Hob’s mouth, both their lips darkened with blood now, “if I am even still fertile.”
Hob smiles, which is most certainly not the reaction Dream expected. “Well, it will certainly be fun to find out.”
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Plus One - chapter 1
Read on AO3
Raphael x Fem!Tav; Modern AU
Summary: Raphael and Tav are lawyers with a messy history. When both need the others help, they'll have to overcome their past.
Or, in which Raphael and Tav are messy exes.
A/N: I've been watching too many crime and law shows with my dad so this has been stuck in my head for some time. That said, I know nothing of the law world, I did some research but still, don't come for me if stuff is innacurate.
The sound of heels clacking on the floor alerted everyone that Tav had arrived.
People greeted her with ‘good mornings’ and ‘how are you doings’, which were replied with a cold glare. Tav didn’t like small talk nor wasting time on pleasantries. She made her way to her desk, without speaking to anyone.
Tav was one of the senior associates at the Advocate Diabolis, a law firm which specializes in infernal contracts, representing the mortals who were tricked into selling their souls. A few years ago, they had gained more recognition after Tav represented Wyll Ravengard, ending his contract with the she-devil Mizora.
As of now, she was trying to help the vampire spawn Astarion free himself from his old master, Cazador. They had made a breakthrough after translating the scars on his back, discovering it was an infernal contract. The problem was that she struggled to find a way to work with it. Without the full picture, Tav couldn’t think of a way to save Astarion.
She sighed, removing her reading glasses and rubbing her forehead. Just then, Shadowheart, her secretary, passed by.
“Any luck with the Astarion case?” She asked, crossing her arms. Shadowheart was one of the few people who Tav spoke with, considering her akin to a friend.
Tav shook her head. “I have researched everywhere, he even used some of his old contacts to try and help, but we still haven’t found the full contract.” Tav put her glasses on again. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You know…” Shadowheart took in a breath. “You could always try and talk to -”
“Absolutely not.” Tav cut her off before she could say the name out loud. “You know how things are between the two of us.”
“Well, not really, since you never told me everything but -” She paused momentarily, raising a brow “he might be the only one to give you some insight.” Saying that, Shadowheart left.
Tav sighed and bit her lip. She hated when others were right, but the half elf did have a point. If there was one person who would know more than her about this sort of dealings, it would be the devil himself - Raphael.
He was the senior partner at the House of Hope, a law firm that usually represented fiends. Raphael was older than Tav, but their paths had crossed a long time ago, when Tav was fresh out of college. They had gotten close, even becoming lovers.
It all ended seven years ago, when the two of them went head to head in court in the Ravengard case - Tav representing Wyll and Raphael representing Mizora. Losing the case had been a great injury to Raphael’s ego and pride.
The fight they had that night was devastating and they had not spoken since.
But Astarion was a close friend, and if talking with Raphael was the only way for her to figure things out, she would do so.
‘It’s only for business.’ She thought to herself as she picked her phone and typed his number. Even after all that time, Tav still remembered it.
After three rings, he picked up.
…
It was a quiet day in the House of Hope.
Raphael had no meetings until much later, everyone was working diligently and no one had come to bother him. He opened a bottle of red wine and served himself one glass, while looking out the windows of his office.
Suddenly, there was a knock on his door, followed by a voice. “Sir, your father is here.” Korrilla, his assistant, said.
Raphael downed the rest of his glass, and hid the wine. Mephistopheles was not one to make surprise appearances so whatever this was, it had to be important. He walked to the door, opening it. He flashed one of charming smiles.
“My dear father, come in.” Raphael motioned to the inside of the room. Mephisto did not address him, walking in and taking a seat.
The cambion didn’t sit, choosing to stay up while picking up a bottle of wyvern whiskey, pouring one glass for himself. He offered his father but was declined.
“I don’t intend on staying here for long.” Mephistopheles said.
“Then what is it that you require?”
“Baalphegor and I are getting married and she insisted you attend.”
Raphael took a large gulp from his drink. “And when is it happening?”
“This weekend. I’ll email you the details.” Mephistopheles stood up. “You’ll bring that girl of yours, won’t you?”
Raphael furrowed his brows. “Whom?”
“The little mortal one, I don’t remember her name but you introduced us a long time ago.” He cleared his throat. “Because this is a last minute invitation, we already reserved a seat for your plus one.”
“Father, I-”
“Everyone else has confirmed their attendance. Do not make us look bad by leaving a sit empty.” With that said, Mephistopheles left in a puff of smoke.
Raphael began thinking about who his father was speaking of until he remembered. There had only been one person whom the cambion introduced to the archdevil. The one person whom he almost took the next step with.
Tav.
On cue, his phone rang, the name ‘Little Mouse’ flashing before his eyes. After three rings, he picked it up.
…
“What do you want?” Raphael demanded.
“Hello to you too, Raphael.” Tav said sarcastically. “Are you free tonight?”
“Why do you ask?” He asked in a dry tone.
She sighed, swallowing her pride. “I’m having a hard time with a case and I believe you’re the only one that can help.”
“Oh? You want my help? I thought you were a grown woman who didn’t need me to help her. Wasn’t that what you said last time we spoke?”
Tav rolled her eyes. Of course he would bring that up. “Can you put that behind us for one minute? It’s been seven years.” She couldn’t help but add “And I thought you were supposed to be the wise and mature one.”
Two could play the game of quoting their past fight.
She heard him sigh but he didn’t say anything. Tav spoke up. “Listen, it will just be a business meeting, nothing more nothing less and then we won’t have to see each other again.”
“Fine. But, I will need something from you in return.”
“Obviously.” Raphael never gave anything freely. “At what time are you free?”
“7 pm. Meet me in the Devil’s Den.” And with that, he finished the call.
Tav sighed, putting her phone down. She looked at the clock on the wall. There were still five hours until they had to meet.
‘It’s gonna be fine, Tav.’ She thought. ‘You do what he wants and then you won’t have to think of him ever again.’
#raphael bg3#raphael x tav#raphael baldur's gate 3#raphael the cambion#tav bg3#modern au#my writing#this is wild but i needed to get it off my system
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I've had this idea in my head that Paul uses M&M tubes to keep his joints in! They're perfect, they start out having candy AND they're air tight! If you can make anything out of that for the love of all that lives, you gotta.
Summary: Paul is a fiend, and makes it grandpa Emerson's problem
Word Count: 2.5k
Great ask! I love this one a lot, you’re gonna get a crack response, but it’s a good response. Cause I’m smoking a crack pipe full of these fruity little bitches!
So, I’ve been toying with the idea of the boys going to COSTCO; hear me out. Any TLB AU where everyone survives, means Lucy will take the boys in; no if’s and’s or buts about it. She is the best 80’s mom ever, she’s for sure adopting them. Which makes the whole David x Michael thing weird bc they would be…stepbrothers? Whatever, vampire relationships are complicated. She would also have to be feeding like 10 people. Hold on, lets actually count. It’s the boys, that’s 4 + Lucy, Sam, Michael, Grandpa E, another 4, then Star, and Laddie, which is 2 AND maybe Max, and the Frog brothers… depending on how that goes. Anyways, that’s still at LEAST 10 mouths to feed.
So, Lucy, being the mom that she is, would get a COSTCO membership to get all the things that her new, big family would need. Now, you’re probably wondering, “Ari, where the fuck are you going with this?”
WELL
Lucy would get a COSTCO card so she could get these rambunctious fuckers what they need. Max would foot the bill, and everyone would be ‘happy’ about it and shut up forever. (FYI, Costco in the 90’s looked more like a Home Depot, which I hate).
Lucy notices, IMMEDIATELY that her new sons have some interesting snack choices to say the least.
David is waaay too into eggs, to the point where she doesn’t know if he’s even eating them, or if he’s just hiding them somewhere. Marko goes through wheels of cheese like they’re apples. Dwayne likes… pickled fish and marshmallows. And Paul… well, she’s concerned for all of them, but she’s most concerned for Paul.
He’s quickly becoming her favorite. He always helps with chores, even if he doesn’t want to. He changes light bulbs for her, even catches and releases the bugs that get in the house for her. Sure, he’s screaming and yelling the whole time it takes him to get the damn bug outside, but it’s the thought that counts. He's a mama’s boy through and through.
Lucy started worrying for him though, the second she noticed he would go through candy so quickly. And not just go through candy, he would go through the damn candy. Paul could eat a whole box of candy, within a few minutes. When she got trick or treat candy for one Halloween, Paul went through several hundreds of dollars’ worth of candy within a few hours. Specifically, she noticed, he would tear through the mini m&m tubes like nobodys business.
Which, if you asked Paul, he’d say it really was, “nobody’s business.”
She would buy the giant COSTCO boxes that had 24 tubes and he would just walk off with the whole box. After he’d done that three or four times, she brought it up to David.
Lucy: I’m worried that Paul is… going to make himself sick.
David: *Leaning against the kitchen counter* We’ve been worrying about that for a lot longer than you have, he’s just like that.
Lucy: No, I mean, he keeps stealing these… little… *gestures with her hands* tubes of candy and I don’t know what he’s doing with them.
David: Oh, *rubs his chin* well that would be concerning… if it wasn’t Paul.
Lucy: Can you just make sure he’s not eating all that candy, can you boys process sugar fine like that?
David: *shrugs*
Michael: *walks into the kitchen, and grabs something from the fridge*
Lucy: OH, oh, Michael, *waving her hands* tell David about the thing.
Michael: *closes the fridge* Oh, no, not this again. *To David* Is she bothering you with this? *To Lucy, pointing with the soda bottle* Are you bothering him with this?
David: *snorts* This is a real hot button issue, eh?
Lucy: I’m worried about him, is no one else worried about him?
Michael: He’s a weird guy, mom. He’s just like that.
Lucy: But-
Michael: Mom if it’s that big of a deal why don’t you ask him about it?
Lucy: I TRY. But every time I try to ask him about it, he bolts. And, *pointing at Michael and David* with all that damn candy, I might add.
David: *laughing* Yeaah, that sounds like Paul.
Michael: Don’t encourage her.
Lucy: *glares at Michael*
David: Listen Ms. E, I wouldn’t worry about it making him sick. But if it means that much to ya, I’ll talk to him about it.
Lucy: Thank you, David, *pats his back*
David: *already halfway out the room* okay byeeeeeeeeee
What lucy didn’t know, was while, yes, Paul was a fiend for sugar, he was hoarding the m&m tubes for a much more nefarious reason.
Paul was like a pack rat. Step one foot into the cave, and you’d think it was just a mangled mess of shit. But, if you looked closely, you’d notice all the little things hidden away.
Paul had been, for the last several months, eating, emptying, and refilling the plastic, airtight containers with grandpa E’s marijuana. He had been sneakily snatching the sticky green buds in the middle of the night and stashing them away for safe smoking.
Albeit, not as sneaky as he thought. Cause, on more than one occasion, grandpa E had been waiting outside in the garden with the spray hose for Paul. Whenever Paul would slosh into the cave the boys knew he got hosed again, and they’d laugh at his ass.
But, Paul, the ever persistent, learned grandpa E’s habits, and how to better sneak the weed away undetected. He’d crawl on his belly across the roof of the house with a bag slung across his shoulder (think army style, when they make them crawl through the mud; that’s Paul). He would peep his little face over the side of the roof and watch for grandpa in the garden. The first few nights, grandpa E stood outside for a few hours with the hose, waiting for the wild blond.
His persistence paid off, after a few days, grandpa E thought it was safe, and Paul snatched up his goodies. Paul thought he was being sneaky by hovering above the ground and not leaving boot prints; but the next morning, when Lucy, Sam, and Michael were having breakfast and they heard a string of old man cuss words, they knew ‘smokey the bandit’ struck again. Lucy didn’t believe for a second that sweet Paul could steal from her dad, so she chalked it up to her dad smoking too much and being old.
The next night when the boys went to visit for ‘pizza night’ grandpa E railed into Paul. He would not stop ranting and raving about how he was, “going to hog tie his ass,” and, “turn him into the ugliest taxidermyed vampire there ever was.” Lucy gave the boys some money and sent them to get the pizza to let her dad cool down, but when grandpa E insisted he didn’t want Paul back in the house until he apologized, she told the boys to just go out for pizza.
Marko: Paul, you asshole, just apologize so we can go back.
Paul: If I apologize, then that proves I did it- which I didn’t.
Dwayne: Dude, we all know it was you.
Paul: Hey, he’s getting old, that’s 100% not my problem.
David: You know, if you strip the stalk, that kinda makes it more obvious, dumbass.
Sam: You shoulda heard him this morning,
Michael: Yea, it was pretty bad. I’ve never heard him blow up like that.
David: Really? What happened
Sam: He went crazy! He wouldn’t stop screaming!
Marko: *giggling*
Sam: It’s not funny dude, okay? He said words I’ve never even heard before!
Dwayne: Like what? ‘Dagnabbit?’
David: *snorts*
Michael: *Pulling Paul’s jacket by the sleeve* You know if he catches you, you’re dead.
Paul: I’m already dead, also, I’m so not scared of your ‘pappy’.
Michael: Hey, it was a fair warning.
After that, grandpa E went through with operation: catch that flying asshole. He brewed pots of coffee to stay up all night and traded in his hose for a shotgun. Grandpa E sat outside with a chair and his shotgun across his lap, just waiting for Paul to show.
Paul, the ever persistent, waited over a week for his prize. Lucy watched from the kitchen window, as her dad sat outside and stared at the night sky. Her, and Sam were beginning to worry about his mental state. He’d been forcing himself to stay away for hours, and whenever he did fall asleep, Paul would chuck pebbles at him to see if he’d gone to bed for good. Grandpa E would immediately wake up, startled, and one time he’d rang a shot off into the night. Lucy scolded him, saying what if he’d hit a bird, or one of the boys. And his response was, “good! Those fuckers need to learn to stop stealing my stuff!”
One night, after almost 10 nights, there was an opening.
Paul laid on his back, staring at the night sky, rolling the little grey pebble around between his fingers. He was getting sick of waiting, and if he wasn’t worried about what Lucy thought of him, he would have just gone and taken the whole damn garden already. He stared up at the stars, watching the clouds roll in.
Clouds.
He listened to the water as it began to fall softly onto the roof. The pitter-patter came slowly, then faster, then it came in a downpour.
Grandpa E: LUCY!
Lucy:
Grandpa E: LUUUCYYYY!
Lucy: What dad?
Grandpa E: Lucy! Bring me the umbrella!
Lucy: No Dad!
Grandpa E: WHAT?! But it’s a downpour!
Lucy: If you want the umbrella, you gotta come get it yourself!
*Lucy had had enough of her dad’s shenanigans and was determined to get him to come inside from the cold. She hoped this rainstorm was the wakeup call he needed. *
Grandpa E:
Grandpa E: SAM! MICHAEL!
Lucy: They’re not here dad!
Grandpa E: LUCY, YOU BRING ME THAT DAMN UMBRELLA BEFORE I CATCH MY DEATH OUT HERE!
She was done entertaining the notion that Paul, her sweet, kind, always there to help anyone, Paul, was stealing from her dad. He would have to come inside one way or another.
Grandpa E grumbled as his button-up shirt started to get soaked.
Paul turned to lay on his belly and watched his nemesis shift around, trying to determine what to do next. “Go inside, you old bastard,” Paul mumbled to himself. The rain was coming down hard now, if it wasn’t for his vampire eyes, he wouldn’t be able to see anything through the rain. Paul could stay out in the cold and wet forever if he needed to, but he knew grandpa E had to go inside, “go in,” Paul insisted.
He watched as grandpa E pulled the shotgun off his lap and scampered inside. He could hear him mumble something about an umbrella as he ran through the screen door into the kitchen.
Now was his chance!
Paul quickly flew down to the garden. He planted both feet firmly on the ground, what did it matter if his boot prints were in the ground, grandpa knew he was there, and also the rain would wash them out. Paul’s boots squished under him in the wet, burbly mud, he squatted down and grabbed the plant from the base of the stalk and ripped it out of the ground. The roots of the plant dripping down with mud and rain. He repeated his process a few more times. “Fucking old bastard,” he grumbled, as he pulled another plant up by the roots, “making me come out here in the - *grunts* FUCKING RAIN.”
He grabbed a few stalks, tucked them under the strap of his bag and flew off into the night.
Grandpa E heard the “woo-hoo” as he was reaching for the screen door. He ran outside, looking for the umbrella was a flop, it took him too long to search in the cramped closet, so he gave up and decided to return to his green patch of goodness. He scampered back to the kitchen and saw a hurried mess of hair shifting around in the garden.
Grandpa E: Look! There he is! *Pointing out the window*
Lucy: *Walking to the window* Dad, I don’t see anything?
Grandpa E: What do you mean?! He’s right there!
Lucy: *straining her eyes* Dad, it’s a downpour, I can’t see anything.
Grandpa E: *running to the screen door* I got your ass now!
But, as we all know, by the time he got out there, it was too late. Grandpa E, stared at the ground in defeat. He watched as the holes where the stalks used to be burbled and filled with mud and water. The boot prints were fading before his eyes. He knew no one would ever believe him now, and he knew Paul knew that too.
If he didn’t hate him so much by this point, he’d might have applauded him. But for now, he just fell to his knees, the mud sloshing under his pajama pants, and he wailed into the night.
Paul laughed the whole way back to the cave.
When he finally landed, he happily stomped down into the cave. He leaves of the stalks rustling, mud dripping off the stalks and the roots.
His boots squelched under his weight and the mud tracked in behind him.
The other boys and Michael watched as the cocky, rain washed out blond walked into the cave.
Marko: No fucking way.
Dwayne: Oh, Paul you didn’t
David: Atta boy!
Michael: Oooooh, I’m not here.
Paul hummed happily to himself; he ignored his brothers’ jeers as he walked to his alcove. He slung the bag off around his head set the stalks down next to his bean bag chair. He sat down on the tattered, ratty thing with an oomph. He looked at the stalks, he’d clean em and prep em for use later. Paul intended to pluck the seeds out and plant them near the cave, entirely done with being ‘smokey the bandit’.
He shifted to one side and reached a hand under the bag. He rifled around under the chair for a second before he produced what he was reaching for, an m&m tube. He patted his jacket for a lighter and popped open the blue plastic container. He wafted the open container under his nose and turned the tube upside down. A joint slid out into his open palm.
Paul plucked the twisted white paper and set it in his mouth. He flicked the lighter on and lit the end. He took a deep inhale and laid back further in his bean bag chair, still ignoring his brothers half-assed remarks.
Victory never tasted so sweet.
#the lost boys#the lost boys 1987#tlb 1987#tlb paul#tlb david#tlb marko#tlb dwayne#tlb michael#lucy emerson#grandpa emerson#sam emerson#paul the lost boys
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Ask Game : How about an au in where Manual is a Todoroki (Any type of relative)
oh, you mean like when i said Fuyumi should adopt Manual as her brother? Or when we just made Manual the oldest todoroki sibling here, here, (and then...) here? or the separate fic where he's the oldest sibling and also the personification of water and the water cycle itself? Or the series where Tensei and Masaki are Vampire Fuyumi's scions and they're members of the Todoroki clan?
Just kidding, im sure everyone who saw the family tree reblog knows which one i'll talk about here.
1- Masaki, eldest Todoroki Himura child, does not have the quirk his father wanted. He also did not have an ice quirk useful to the Himura family. But he is the eldest, and an eldest son at that, so he's still trained and included by the family. Growing up though, Masaki knows that he's not quite right, not quite what people wanted of him, and tries hard to overcome it. He trains, a lot. He studies the family tree the Himuara clan is so proud of, and then branches out more, as if that'll earn their approval. (he knows most of the whole chart ehehe)He trains to the point that he doesn't just have the ability to manipulate water, but create it too, as his parents create fire and ice. Unfortunately, he can only do this by drawing on his body's stores, so he ends up out of breath and dehydrated too easily when he tries, and wielding large amounts of water is terrible for finesse. Touya, a bright firecracker of a second son, is trained instead. He hurts himself in training too, but can keep going, unlike Masaki. Masaki eases off, still training, still going to be a hero, but giving his little brother more of a spotlight. He's satisfied with what he has. But his brother and father aren't.
2- Masaki stops caring about training with overwhelming power, and focuses on learning how to move small amounts of water with better grace. He dives into the detective part of the job, even as Enji largely neglects passing this on to Touya. He uses his weird knowledge of his family tree for connections- why does he keep getting invited to such high level meetings, missions, and parties?? oh well, you see, Captain Celebrity's sibling married one of Masaki's mom's siblings, so they're in-laws-in-laws, and Ryukyuu's uncle married another one of CC's siblings, so of course Masaki got an invite. He isn't even bragging about his connections, or using them for ill, he just shows up and if people ask why, he says it so matter of fact that they're like 'oh yeah of course, i mean if Manual were my cousin's cousin's aunt's neighbor i'd invite him too, cmon in man." It's amazing how most heroes are more likely to know how they and Masaki are connected than to be aware of the fact that Masaki is straight up Endeavor's son. He doesn't need to be networking this hard. he's doing it anyway. He likes, after all, to be treated normally. He just has a skewed view of normal- but i mean, so does Fuyumi! they're just different skewed views.
3- Sadly this is not a Tensaki au for the simple reason that on one of Endeavor's parent's side, Masaki is distantly related to the Iidas. Now that would not be a problem for literally anyone else, but Masaki took the advice of "if you know how closely you're related, you're too closely related and applied it to his life, not thinking that most people do not in fact have a full knowledge of all of their relatives up to tenth cousins four times removed, and a partial knowledge up to fifteenth six times removed. Tensei is bemused when Masaki asks him how the crawler vigilante is doing, since they never officially partnered, and even more so when Masaki explains "Oh, no, it's just that he's been mentored by my uncle Oguru, has my grandparent's speed quirk and he's like, sixth cousins with your mother, only three or four times removed, so i thought maybe he might have mentioned it to you. But i hope he's doing alright, seems like a good guy and i know that bee bombing thing last month was rough."
4- Masaki dyes his hair brown to look more normal, and because he feels like his natural pink hair clashes with his costume too much. (Hey wonder if all that sexism in the family maybe impacted his view of it too. He very much disapproves of Touya's actions and words but maybe he doesn't want a girly pink hair color either.) Anyway, he also didn't stay at his father's agency for clear reasons. Once his own agency is set up, Fuyumi asks him if he'd consider taking in Natsuo- because he's completely neglected by their father, mom's in the hospital still, touya's dead, and Fuyumi's busy with school, Enji, and Shoto. Masaki agrees, and Natsuo ends up going into school for logistics with a science minor, still considering med school later.
5- "hey uh pocket is dabi not touya here" well that chart was made before the reveal. by not a whole lot of time lol. So, MASAKI doesn't think Dabi is Touya. After all, Touya is Dead. and Dead People do not attack school camps and set trees on fire. Dabi is, therefore, infinitely more likely to actually be Masaki's half uncle- he's pretty sure there are other kids on the fire side of the family, and it gives him a reason for hating Endeavor and his kids so much. Masaki stands by this even as his other siblings start cottoning on to the true identity of the arsonist. He's too normal to believe Dabi could possibly be Touya. After Jakku, he gets a call from Tensei like "hey man, i just heard about the news and i'm so sorry, you know you helped me a lot with my brother and family mess so i'll help you with your brother and-" and Masaki goes "OH THANK YOU i know other things like Eraserhead cutting off his own leg are more important, but i cannot believe my uncle would steal my dead brother's identity like that, with that awful dance-" and Tensei is like 'ah, right.' and just... lets him rant a bit to feel better, before he sniffs and goes 'its actually touya, isn't it.'
#anon#pocket talks to people#ask game#wow. i dont know if this man is very ill or very well. maybe both.
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A Little Bite, Please
Vampire Mitsuri Kanroji x They/Them Reader Modern AU
A/N: Something for spooky season, hope you’ll like it! Warning: Vampire Mitsuri did not get permission before taking a bite. Some manipulation tactics present too. Word Count: 1,712
She was staring at them again.
(Y/n) tried not to let it get to them, but it made it so hard to concentrate on what the professor was saying.
(Y/n) had a night class this semester. They tried to get a more convenient time, but of course every other student wanted the prime schedule slot as well. By the time it was their turn to schedule their classes, they were saddled with the 10pm, fifty minute class three times a week.
At least the class was easy. That was about all it had going for it. (Y/n) could think of a hundred things they would rather do at 10pm on a Friday night, but just showing up to lecture was thirty-five percent of their final grade so here they were, getting stared at by a pink and green haired girl, who sat in the row in front of them, mind you, making it extra unsettling. They had never seen her around campus at any other time, which was probably for the best considering her odd behavior.
There had been a couple of times that the tired Professor had also noticed the girl with the staring problem, Mitsuri’s, turned head and directed a question or two at her.
She would fluster, but answer the queries correctly. Then she’d pay attention for a time, but her attention always came back to (Y/n) in the end. And of course all the students around them noticed too, but they didn’t want to get involved. Occasionally (Y/n) would get a, ‘What’s this about?’, look and they could only give a shrug in response.
They hadn’t even gotten to speak to Mitsuri. They only knew her name because of the Professor. They always put their stuff in their backpack at the end of class and when they zipped it closed and looked up, her spot would be empty like she hadn’t been there at all. It was spooky.
“That’ll do for tonight,” the Professor said, clicking onto the last slide that simply read, ‘have a good weekend’, “No homework, just study for the test on Monday is my only advice. Get home safe.”
(Y/n) began packing up and just like always, Mitsuri was gone from the room when they looked up. So weird.
They hiked their bag onto their back and began to shimmy out of the the row.
“(Y/n), can I talk to you a minute?” The professor asked.
“Sure.” (Y/n) would rather go home, but what else could they do? He said it would only be a minute.
Ten minutes later, (Y/n) was finally out the door. The Professor had a few nice things to say about the essay they had wrote a couple weeks ago, which was sweet, but not something (Y/n) wanted to talk about at eleven o’clock at night.
“Nononono shiiit!”
(Y/n) left the building just in time to watch the last bus of the night leave campus. Their apartment wasn’t far, they often walked the mile to and from campus, but that was in broad daylight. They always took the bus route home if they had to stay on campus after the sun went down.
They’d ask one of their roommates if they could come pick them up, but chances are they were hopping through various fall parties in anticipation for Halloween. Must be nice.
The path was mostly well lit, and it was Friday night in a college town, people were bound to be out in droves… they decided they would go for it.
“I hate this.” They whined as they walked on the vacant sidewalk through the park, damp with the misting rain that had blown through.
Walking alone at night was as exciting as it was frightening. They had turned around no less than ten times in the last fifteen minutes. At one point, a cyclist passed them up and they had nearly screamed.
Around the halfway point they achieved max paranoia. They didn’t want to spend money on a ride share for only a half mile, but they were really starting to freak out. They swore someone had to be following them. They planned to stop at the next lamppost and make the call, but before they made it, they heard feet pounding on the sidewalk a ways behind them.
Before they could think to scream, run or turn around and punch at the air like a crazy person, a sweet voice called to them.
“(Y/n), there you are! I told you to wait, didn’t I?”
They flinched when an arm came up from behind them and wrapped around their’s. When they turned to see who it was, they found pink and green hair and hazy green eyes. It was Mitsuri from the night class.
“Shhh, act natural and don’t turn around. This guy has been trailing me for blocks. I’m so glad I saw you!”
“Oh really?” (Y/n) was immediately concerned. Of course they would walk with Mitsuri. To be honest they were glad for the company themself, safety in numbers and all that. “My apartment is only another half mile away. You can wait for someone to pick you up there or stay the night if you have to.”
“You are a life saver, (Y/n), truly.” Mitsuri sighed in relief, holding their arm closer to her chest.
“No problem. I’d hope someone would do the same for me.”
Mitsuri gave her an odd smile that looked more like a wince, but maybe it was just a trick of the poor lighting.
“Hey! Do you live on West Park Road? Is that why you’re going this way?” Mitsuri asked, changing the subject.
“Yeah, why, do you live there too?”
“No, I live a couple more streets down, but I do know that if you cut through the woods right there, you can cut your time significantly. I do it all the time.”
“There?” (Y/n) gulped. The forest was dark. They couldn’t even see the opposite street through the trees. “I don’t know, if that guy is still following you it might be better to—“
“Oh god, run!” Mitsuri squealed, pushing (Y/n) into the woods.
(Y/n) was much to startled to question her, instead they let Mitsuri lead them by the hand through the dark woods. So many twists and turns, (Y/n) didn’t even know what was up or down anymore.
“We’ll hide here, be quiet!” Mitsuri squeaked, pushing (Y/n) to the ground behind a couple of particularly thick trees, holding them tightly against her.
She was surprisingly strong, (Y/n) noted vaguely. They were too busy trying to muffle their heavy breaths from running to pay it much more thought.
They laid flat against the ground, trying not to let the leaves crunch beneath their weight. Mitsuri hovered above them, caging their body between her knees, palms on either side of (Y/n)’s head.
They laid there in silence for minutes, but it felt much longer. (Y/n) regained their breath, but they continued to hold still, waiting for Mitsuri’s verdict.
But Mitsuri again seemed more interested at staring down at them than looking out for a deranged man in the woods.
“Do, do you think we lost him?” (Y/n) asked barely above a whisper, swallowing thickly.
Mitsuri’s eyes followed the movement with great longing.
“There is no man, (Y/n),” Mitsuri looked ashamed, but hunkered down closer to (Y/n), stroking their neck with the knuckles of one hand, her cold breath fanned over (Y/n)’s face, “Why couldn’t you have just taken the bus like you do every other night… I tried so hard to protect you from me, but I can’t hold myself back anymore.”
“What are you talking about?” (Y/n)’s voice trembled.
They attempted to buck Mitsuri off, but that strength of hers kept her steady. She peered down at (Y/n) apologetically then effortlessly turned their head to the side, exposing their neck.
“What are you doing?” (Y/n) asked fearfully while they attempted to pry Mitsuri’s arm away.
“Shh, shh, I just need a little bite, please. So hungry. I’ll be so gentle, I promise. I’ve been practicing. I know when to stop now, you’ll be alright.” She husked over and over until the feverish words sounded like nothing in (Y/n)’s ears.
Mitsuri’s nose rubbed up their neck, then her lips came to rest against (Y/n)’s throat, making them shudder. Mitsuri shushed them once more, rubbing soothing circles against their ribs.
Then (Y/n) felt a sharp prick against their shoulder, close to the juncture were it met their neck, and a burst of warmth. They weakly attempted to push Mitsuri off again before their arms fell limply on either side. After a little while, their brain felt fuzzy and their limbs numb. The last thing they saw before succumbing to unconsciousness was Mitsuri licking the blood from her lips.
***
“Hey, (Y/n), you good? It’s four in the afternoon and you’re still in bed.”
(Y/n) groaned. Their head was pounding. Had they been drinking last night? They slowly sat up in bed, focusing in on their roommates poking their heads through the door.
“Is it really?” They croaked. Wow, their mouth was dry.
“Yeah, one would think you were the one out partying all night.” One of the roommates chuckled.
“You weren’t kidding about this week being hell for you I guess. Did you make yourself sick?”
“Maybe?” (Y/n) rubbed their eyes, trying to remember anything from the night before.
“Well, we made cute sugar cookies if you want any. And we were thinking of getting pizza for dinner. Does that sound good?”
“Yeah, sure. Thanks.” (Y/n) stood up and almost had to sit back down again. Why were they so dizzy? “I’m gonna wash up.”
The short trip to the bathroom felt way more difficult then it should have been. They turned on the shower then sat on the lid of the toilet to take a breather. When the dizziness became manageable, they stood up, catching a glance of themself in the mirror.
They saw something weird peeking out on the edge of their t-shirt and brushed at it, but it didn’t fall off, it was actually very tender there. They stepped closer to the mirror and pulled their shirt over, revealing a—
“Is, is that a bite mark?” They whispered disbelievingly.
Just what had happened last night?
#demon slayer oneshots#kny oneshots#demon slayer x reader#kny x reader#mitsuri kanroji x reader#mitsuri x reader#mitsuri kanroji
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20 fic questions
i was tagged by @mutxnts thank you ash!!
1. how many works do you have on Ao3?
21, ayyy, one less than ash!!
2. what's your total ao3 word count?
189,718. this does not surprise me.
3. what fandoms do you write for?
ace attorney and very rarely ff7 and the last of us.
4. what are your top five fics by kudos?
late night (257 kudos), tasting (121 kudos), finality (114 kudos), alive (91 kudos), distance (88 kudos)
all of these are ace attorney, three of them are part of a series lol.
if we want to include my art that i've posted to ao3, holding would actually be in second place, with 218 kudos.
theoretically another fic should be in the top five instead but i left it out because i just don't like it and don't plan to update it again/will prob remove it at some point (it was my first in the fandom, was trying to do a case fic before realizing i am bad at them).
5. do you respond to comments?
i try to always respond but sometimes i just don't know what to say! that being said i am always open to chatting about my fics. please. please talk to me oh my god i want to talk about ace attorney.
6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
oughhhh....... i guess no one told me it would be beautiful? it's one of my shortest fics and part of just a short series of a post-apocalypse au. it's not exactly the angstiest ending, i have another series in mind for that, but the whole fic has an undertone of angst, and series will too. i just write it in spurts when i feel the need to write something that isn't one of my WIPs.
7. what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
i think most of my fics end on a sort of higher note! my fics have strong undertones of angst but with lighter endings, but i think the winner would go to status :) because it's the happy ending to the long angsty series! and also it just makes me happy, i feel like i really stuck the landing, we get to see the boys laugh over the most absurd situation and it makes me laugh too.
8. do you get hate on fics?
i've never gotten hate on a fic but shortly after i posted fic that met this description in the tags once, someone i follow made a post making fun of the idea that edgeworth would ever be a sexy dom. listen we are all playing in our own sandboxes.
9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?
we all know me, come on now. i write trans phoenix getting railed in all configurations smut. every e-rated fic has at least one creampie. we know this.
10. do you write crossovers? what’s the craziest one you’ve written?
i don't, but i do have one in mind. i've been planning a severance ace attorney fic for a long time.
11. have you ever had a fic stolen?
no
12. have you ever had a fic translated?
no
13. have you ever co-written a fic before?
kind of? tybalt wrote a fic in the universe of one of my series! which kind of counts? idk! but he didn't feel like posting it so i did lol (he's co-author on it). but i do RP a lot, just none is published yet. maybe some day.
14. what’s your all time favorite ship?
of all time??????? tifa/cloud/aerith probably
15. what’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
ohhh god maybe my vampire fic, wait for the morning. i'm trying. i'm trying for the homosexuals.
16. what are your writing strengths?
i think i'm best at writing dialogue honestly, that is what i love to write the most, especially arguments. otherwise in the Real World i am very good at writing passive-aggressive but still somehow polite and professional emails to get shit done.
17. what are your writing weaknesses?
i have a lot of problems with just repetitive vocab.
18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
i have a lot of feelings on this i can't exactly elucidate well. i only speak english fluently. i have a very beginner's knowledge in french. i'm also indigenous, but i don't speak the language of my people, which despite being one of the largest indigenous speech communities in the US, still only has around 2,000 native speakers.
so... i have a lot of feelings about language that take up a lot of space in my chest. but i just am kind of stuck writing in english. if i need to write dialogue in another language, i try to source from friends who speak the language first, then elsewhere on the internet if i don't know anyone directly who speaks it (e.g. asking in a public discord or reddit or somewhere), and use online translation tools as a last resort.
19. first fandom you wrote for?
theoretically it was accidentally tomb raider when i was in 3rd grade but i didn't know that's what i was doing at the time. intentionally, the first fic i ever wrote fanfic for was ff7.
20. favorite fic you’ve written?
i really and truly cannot choose here. it's like picking your favorite child. for the writing skills alone i have to pick wait for the morning (unfinished, i'm sorry). clarity is another one i think shows off some writing skills, idk, i just like it! for the characterization, something about decadence really floats my boat. and for the one that really earns its e-rating, it's tasting (especially chapter 3), my magnum opus of smut.
i am tagging.... who am i tagging. i hate tagging ppl bc i get sooooo anxious that ppl will be annoyed but i am going to tag @sandboxer @m-aximumjoy @samioli if you want to do it, and i have forgotten everyone else's tumblr urls in this exact moment it's like the men in black just memory-wiped me
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WIP word search game!
Okay! I was tagged by @dsudis!
My words are: blue, deep, walk, sky, down, heal
blue: (from the unnamed Hallmark-Adjacent sequel)
If Morpheus is honest with himself – and he has been attempting, within the last three months, to be more honest with himself – the moment that he considered Robert Gadling a viable husband was the very instant he had seen him bathed in the lights of Trafalgar Square, in a dozen different shades of blue and white and soft golden from the surrounding buildings and with his hair pulled back into a bun, as though he had done so out of habit just before he had left his flat.
deep: (from an unnamed vampire!Dream WIP that's been languishing until I get into vampires again)
His stranger turns to look at him, and it pulls his face into deep shadow. Hob can only see the white curve of his throat, a tempting peek of collarbone. His face is obscured in darkness, with only those two bright points of witchlight to mark where his gaze falls.
“I have had many names,” he says. Each word is slow and purposeful, as if it is being pulled from a sleeptalker. “Morpheus. Oneiros. Draculea. More, still. I was called the shaper of forms, once. Voivode, and Lord, and King. My true name is older.”
heal: (from an Edgin/Xenk canon divergence AU set 4 years prior to the movie)
"I can heal myself," the paladin says placidly, and then makes absolutely no effort to do so while Ed pours a thin stream of icy water over the slash on his cheek. It's not as bad once all the blood's cleared away -- he can't see clear through to teeth at least -- and that only leaves him with addressing the actual problem, which is the shoulder injury. Ed stares at the guy's pauldrons, wondering where in the Nine Hells he even starts.
walk: (from a yet-unposted bit of Little Histories)
"I am ambivalent about the nature of food served from a truck," Dream says. He still feels somewhat slow and muddled, but the walk is pleasant. Humans need movement, Hob has informed him. It is part of the development of their infants, and most enjoy it well after their childhood, as well. There is something pleasant about utilising his muscles; in the moment, he wonders why it had been so hard to rouse himself yesterday.
sky: (from the same Edgin/Xenk fic)
The opportunity comes just as the sun is beginning to get dangerously low in the sky and the nightlife of Luskan -- skullduggery, alleyway knifing, pickpocketing and the like -- is kicking into high gear, when a man on a horse as white as the driven snow turns away from the Southern Gate and keeps right on riding towards Mirabar.
down: (unnamed Johanna/Lucifer fic)
The demon darts forward, too bloody fast for a woman who's spent most of the evening getting fantastically drunk after ousting a fucking poltergeist from an attic, and knocks the crucifix from her hands. Jo responds by yanking out the vial of holy water she keeps in her bra and dumping it directly down the demon's cleavage. She suspects she only manages this because the demon was too distracted by trying to figure out why she was fumbling in her bra to begin with, but that's to her benefit, so she counts it as a win.
And I will taaaaag... @avelera (show me the secret drafts of Joke's On You!!!), @landwriter, @softest-punk, @beatnikfreakiswriting and anyone else who'd like to play <3
Your words are: invite, bleed, lonely, glance, small, curve
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Was the movie Ravenous one of the inspirations for the Wendigo Belos in the Shadow Puppets AU?
Not really. I'm just fascinated by Wendigo folklore the way that some people are fascinated with vampires or werewolves. Belos's monster form in canon take its general visual cues from the classic Hollywood interpretation of the Wendigo (being an animal-like humanoid, usually deer) and I'm trying to blend that in with both more accurate Wendigo lore and the pretty messy world building of the show.
You know, since episode one made the bold claim that every myth humans have is a little bit of the Demon Realm leaking into the Human world, but never does anything with that idea.
As I already stated, the Deer-like visuals is a very Hollywood interpretation, actual indigenous Folklore for the Wendigo usually depicts them as giants with a heart of ice or indistinguishable from an ordinary human. It varies depending on the culture and whether the creature in question is actually a Wendigo or a similar spirit but a common versions it is a malevolent spirit embodying human gluttony, greed, selfishness and violence with an insatiable hunger for human flesh
Somewhere in my lore tag I have a headcanon post about the Wendigo where I tried to blend this a bit, but to elaborate; Philip's true form is actually a puddle of amorphous rot, his ability to take a recognizable shape is correlated to how well he's been feeding.
A key part of his character in the Shadow Puppets AU is his refusal to acknowledge the loss of his humanity and act against his instinctual need to consume people because at one point in his life, he was a good little Christian boy who knows Gluttony, Greed and Wrath are three of the Seven Deadly sins, and Thou Shalt Not Kill is one of the Ten Commandments.
That's a subject I personally find really interesting; what happens when a creature that's the embodiment selfishness is born from someone who was once pure and selfless, who's most selfish desire is to stay human? It's complicated and messy and a complete nightmare for Philip, but a lot of fun for me as a writer.
His mistake is lying to himself and others that the monster isn't really him, it is a Dr Jekyll and Mr. Hyde situation, the Wendigo is the the dark and twisted evil side of his humanity given form, but he thinks he can fight it and desperately tries to by not letting himself act like a Wendigo and to this end he mostly relies on Astrophel to keep him in line. Astrophel's character arc revolves around him realizing he's done a poor job at being Philip's Guardian Angel and failed him as a friend.
Side note: Although Philip has his own reasons for being angry and wanting to destroy the Boiling Isles, and it technically his idea, he asked Astrophel's permission and has been carrying out this goal under the pretense that he's doing it for his friend
Philip fights it by consuming Palismen instead, which he considers nothing more than animals, and because no one knows what he really is, even the ones that know he's cursed, they let him get away with it. Early in the events of the AU he horded Palismen that he stole from the people of the Boiling Isles or found abandoned, but even that wasn't enough and he struggled keeping a human form resulting in the deer-like monstrosity, it's a reflection of how Philip sees himself which is why it bares resemblance to the mask his brother made him.
As Emperor Belos, with people literally serving him Palismen on platters, he was able to keep himself fed enough that he kept his human shape with ease, and doesn't have problems with it again until the supply of Palismen starts drying up. No Palisman Beast in this AU, his struggles to control his monster form is literally because he's secretly a starving Wendigo and loosing his grip on his humanity as his need to feed himself grows.
Something that makes this scary in the RP (as if isn't already terrifying in general) is that before Philip was cursed he was a lot more like Luz than he is in canon; weird and struggling to fit in, but empathic and selfless. The Wendigo curse stripped that away from him, and it's not something he asked to or was aware could happen either, so rather than her moping about helping Philip, in our AU Luz spends her time back in the human realm struggling with the horrific realization that she could become a Wendigo just as easily as Philip did and fear that she might already have the curse growing in her.
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Vampire AU: Hunter's Moon
2263 words
Aether x Ardis
The Hunter's Moon was nearly upon the ministry. The yearly event always stirred up a plethora of emotions among the congregation, ranging from excitement to fear. For Papa, the night was just another source of stress. It was an unavoidable headache that came from working with ghouls. It was the one night of the year when the ghouls could no longer suppress their demonic tendencies. They needed blood.
Brothers and sisters of sin had been whispering amongst themselves in the monastery hallways in the weeks leading up to the astronomical event, wondering which lucky few would get selected by the band members. Some ghouls took a rather civilized approach to the evening – Rain preferred to wine and dine his prey to thank them. Sodo, on the other hand, liked to hunt his victim down in the woods just outside the ministry walls. It only happened once a year, he always argued defensively, and he intended to make the most of it. No matter the technique, each ghoul's night ended with their teeth in someone's neck. This year, however, presented an additional challenge. Aether was in a committed, exclusive relationship with an angel. What would he do?
Papa and Aether had discussed it at length long before they ever brought it up with Ardis. It wasn't inherently romantic or sexual, Papa had pointed out. Ardis would understand. Aether was still uneasy. That was true, but it was certainly intimate. There was no doubt about that.
"Should I just, I don't know..." Aether mumbled. They'd been alone in Papa's office, sitting on the bench with their backs to the piano. "I suppose we could get one of the siblings to donate blood through the usual medical means. I could just drink it later."
Papa didn't look convinced. "Isn't the biting and..." He gestured vaguely. "Growling and ghoul-ing just as much a part of it, though? If you're not satiated from a little blood bag, we will have a bigger problem on our hands. We both know how you ghouls get."
Aether sighed. "But if I pick one of the church members... Getting selected for that has certain connotations. Even if I keep things tame and professional, it will be interpreted otherwise."
"Then ask Ardis," Papa said.
"She'll say it's fine, but she won't mean it," Aether insisted. "I know her. She wouldn't like the idea of me doing that with someone else."
"No, no," Papa clarified. "I mean, ask Ardis if you can bite her."
Aether's face felt hot. "I–" He didn't know how to respond. The thought had never even crossed his mind. It seemed absurd. Biting Ardis? Drinking her blood? Ridiculous. That was far too intimate for this stage of their relationship. He was taking things slow. Kissing and cuddling. That was all. The notion that the first time his lips would meet her neck would be mere moments before he sunk his fangs into her skin – it made him uncomfortable. "I don't know."
"Talk to her about it," Papa said, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "If she says 'no', we'll come up with another plan. I am not letting you drink from a blood bag."
Ardis arrived long before sunset that October afternoon. She was nervous, but she couldn't hide the bit of excitement and curiosity at the back of her mind. They'd been discussing it all month. Ardis had countless questions – why ghouls needed it, if an angel's blood would be good enough, how badly it would hurt – before she ultimately agreed. Aether had expected her to say no, and was initially convinced she was only agreeing to be polite. Even so, Ardis had insisted. She wanted to help him in any way she could.
"If you change your mind at any point, tell me," Aether reminded her when she arrived at the monastery gate. "It's never too late." She'd worn a tank top in anticipation of the evening's events, and his fought to make himself stop staring at her exposed neck and shoulders.
Ardis smiled at him warmly and took his hand. "I know. It's okay. How long until the moon comes up?"
"Three or four hours, I think," Aether said, glancing at the cloudless sky as they walked toward the main building hand in hand. The sun was still high above them. "We have plenty of time get you something to eat, make sure you're comfortable, sort out exactly how we're going to do this..."
They made their way to one of the empty sitting rooms and settled on the couch. "What are our options?" Ardis asked him. "Regarding the, um, actual biting part?"
"Each ghoul handles it a bit differently," he explained, intentionally omitting the details. He didn't want Sodo's methods to even enter her mind. "I was thinking we would just do it on my room, with you on my lap. Is that alright?"
She nodded. "That sounds okay."
He sighed and gave her hand a little squeeze. "I really appreciate this. I tried to find a way around it, but..."
"Aether, really – it's okay," she assured him. "I wouldn't be here if I wasn't sure. I mean, I'm nervous, of course, but I've made up my mind."
The pair cuddled on the couch until all the ghouls were summoned for an early dinner at around five in the afternoon. Each ghoul would need their strength for the upcoming night, and enough time to make any necessary preparations before sundown. Aether and Papa ensured that Ardis got enough food in her, too. "I always stay up until sunrise on these nights," Papa assured her, "so don't hesitate to come get me if you need anything. I mean it, my dove. Anything at all."
Ardis smiled at him, hiding how nervous she was. "Thank you, Papa."
"I appreciate you helping me keep my best ghoul in shape." He rested his hand on her knee and gave it a little squeeze. "I'm sure it wasn't an easy decision. You're a very brave little angel, tesorina."
"I trust him," she said with conviction.
Papa kissed her forehead. "Good girl."
By the time they all finished dinner, daylight was already fading. The ghouls all went their separate ways to finish up any last-minute preparations. Aether and Ardis secluded themselves in his bedroom, as they'd discussed. He tried to keep up the cordial chatter they usually engaged in, but his eyes kept wandering to the windows. It was getting dark. The time was almost upon them, and they both knew it.
"Aether? Your eyes are glowing," Ardis soon pointed out, staring at him in awe.
He glanced away. "Yeah, they, uh... They do that sometimes." Adrenaline was surging through his body. He couldn't tell where the moon was due to the position of his window, but he could feel its influence growing steadily. His tail flicked side to side, unable to stay still. He decided to distract himself by double checking that he had everything ready – sterile wipes, bandages, gauze, tissues, a bottle of water, a bottle of juice, some snacks... He knew he was probably overdoing it. The bites tended to heal on their own, and it was very rare for people to faint. He just needed to be certain that he was prepared for anything.
Aether and Ardis continued chatting, avoiding the elephant in the room, until the church bells struck seven. He couldn't stall any longer. It was time. "Shall we?" He sat on the edge of his bed and opened his arms to her. She nodded, carefully climbing onto his lap to straddle him. He hugged her tight and she followed suit. She could feel his heart beating against her chest. "This is going to hurt," he warned her in a low murmur right into her ear. "I'm sorry."
"I know," she said. It took all her effort to keep her voice steady. "It's okay."
"And remember – if you ever want to stop, just say so. I'll stop." Aether took a deep breath to calm himself, but it had the opposite effect. Her smell was intoxicating. "I–" He swallowed hard. "Do I have your permission to bite you?"
"Yes," she responded with feigned calm, squeezing her eyes shut as she braced herself. "You can start."
Aether used one hand to carefully tilt her head to the side, baring her neck to him. His eyes briefly roamed her tan skin before quickly finding the fated spot. He hesitated for only a moment before his instincts took over. He opened his mouth and sunk his sharp canines into her soft flesh. She immediately gave a jerk of surprise at the sudden pain, a stifled whimper escaping her lips. His teeth felt like daggers. They held each other even tighter and her legs wrapped around his waist.
When the first drop of her blood hit his tongue, a low undignified moan emerged from his throat. It would have embarrassed him if he'd been capable of feeling anything other than primal gluttony. She tasted, for lack of a better word, heavenly. Her blood was sweeter than he'd ever tasted. He sucked on the wound, urging the flow into his eager mouth. His broad palm slowly rubbed her back in an attempt to remind her to breathe. He wouldn't have her fainting.
Ardis finally managed to let out the breath she'd been holding and tried to steady herself. Each breath she took was heavy and ragged, occasionally mixed with a pitiful whine. She reminded herself that she was helping Aether. He needed this. She just wished it didn't hurt so much – his teeth had pierced deep into her muscle and his jaw was locked down on her tiny form. The sound of him swallowing desperately made her face warm. She'd been so focused on his teeth that she'd momentarily forgotten why he was doing this in the first place. He was drinking her. The thought alone would have made her knees give out if she weren't securely planted on his lap.
As she adjusted to the pain, she found herself noticing just how close she was to him. She could feel his breath hot against her skin, the way his muscles tensed every time he swallowed, the iron grip his hands had on her, the occasional growl that rumbled deep in his chest. She felt helpless. The feeding itself only took a few minutes, much to Ardis's relief. She was just starting to feel lightheaded when Aether carefully removed his fangs from her neck. It made her wince. He took a moment to catch his breath and calm down. "Are... Are you alright?" he asked quietly.
She finally peeked open her eyes and found her blood staining his lips and chin. "I think so," she said weakly. "I'm a little dizzy."
The civilized portions of Aether's mind were starting to reawaken. "Let me get you patched up," he said, reaching for the medical supplies he'd set beside him before they'd begun. He licked one last stripe across the wound to catch a trickle of blood that was threatening to run down her chest, then cleaned and bandaged the incisions. When he was done, he pressed a gentle kiss to her bandaged neck. "Here, lie down," Aether insisted, gently maneuvering her to lie back on his bed. She looked pale. His heart wrenched with guilt as his head cleared. He'd done this to her, and she'd let him.
"Was that okay?" she mumbled, exhaustion taking hold of her now that the adrenaline was starting to wear off.
"Yes, cara," he cooed. "You were incredible. I can't even begin to express how grateful I am." He quickly cleaned off his mouth and chin before disposing of the bloodied supplies. "I, er... I'm sorry if this is crude, or gross, but... you taste so good, Ardis," he confessed awkwardly as he sat back down on the bed.
She let out a little giggle, smiling up at him. "Do I really? I'm glad. I'd be embarrassed if you thought I tasted bad."
"It was the best I've ever had," he insisted. "And I'm not just saying that because I'm grateful. But what would you like? I have water, juice, cookies, crackers... I can always run to the kitchen if you'd prefer something else."
"Can I just take a nap?" she asked. "I feel so tired."
Aether sighed. "I'd feel better if you had something. You lost a lot of blood." She reluctantly agreed to drink some water and have a little snack, much to Aether's relief. When she'd had her fill, she opened her arms to Aether and he eagerly joined her. "How was that all for you?" he asked as they cuddled up with each other. "I know it hurt, and I'm sorry."
"It did, but..." She yawned. "I liked being so close to you. That part was nice."
He chuckled a bit. "It's certainly intimate."
"And it was cool to hear you growl like that," Ardis confessed in a sleepy mumble. "I've never heard you do that before. It was kinda hot."
"Really?" He asked, a bit surprised that she would admit such a thing. This was likely an effect of the blood loss, he realized. As tempting as it was to take advantage of how freely she was willing to speak in that moment, he decided to behave. He pulled her a bit closer. "Well, I can certainly growl more often if you like it so much."
"That would be nice..." She was drifting off.
"You know I love you, don't you?" he asked quickly before she completely fell asleep.
She let out a little hum of agreement. "I love you, too."
taglist: @mechanikisses @awolfnamedluna @faerie-circle-ships
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I need to think of a proper name for the comphet robin au because it has too much lore now. Anyway have some more monster hunting lore:
Monster hunting is a tradition transmited from generation to generation. It has nothing to do with inherited powers and habilities, and everything to do with knowledge.
There are two monster hunter families in Hawkins, though some think soon it will be only one.
Joyce comes from a long line of monster hunters. She left it behind when she met Lonnie, never really caring much for that lifestyle, but she did tell her boys some things about it, just in case. When her son Will went missing, she went back into action like in her youth, now accompanied by her eldest son and his friend, Nancy.
Nancy became a monster hunter through the Byers when Barb went missing. It's rare but not unheard of for monster hunters to "adopt" someone else into their tradition, and that is what Joyce did, acting as a kind of godmother. Despite not being related to the Byers in any conventional way, Nancy is considered a Byers monster hunter. The name she usually gives to other monster hunters outside of Hawkins is Ruth Byers, to indicate her afiliation while protecting her true identity.
The other family consists on Jim Hopper and his adopted daughter, El Jane Hopper, another case of a non-hunter becoming a hunter. Both El and Will were being terrorized by the same monster - El for much, much longer - so when they found Will, they rescued El as well, and Jim officially adopted her. She's a Hopper monster hunter.
Monster hunters keep their mission secret. Monsters are everywhere and you can never know how smart they are or whether or not they can hear you. Airing out the truth will just draw danger to themselves and the people around them.
Monster hunting knowledge includes knowledge of the Upside Down - a secret world in the woods, sometimes with portals and sometimes without them - knowledge of weapons and their use, and of monsters around their area. The Upside Down, Vecna and the Mind Flayer are the biggest threats, but they also handle vampires, werewolves, haunted houses, ghosts, not-deer creatures, etc.
Ever since the 50s, the Hoppers have been keeping an eye on a curse that seems to affect Hawkins specifically. They call it Vecna's curse. Every now and then, this spirit from the Upside Down will choose a person and cause them one of three afflictions:
First, they may have spontaneous visions of the Upside Down. This curse is a Type 1 curse. It's physically harmless, meant to cause panic, but it can become quite a problem if knowledge of this spreads. The only known treatment is music and leaving Hawkins. Sometimes, this curse goes away on its own. The other two outcomes are a) a stable persistence of the curse through the victim's life, or b) progress into Type 2. This curse is common for those who have survived the Upside Down. Often read as PTSD or schizophrenia by psychiatrists. Known victims: Will Byers, El Jane Hopper. Suspected victims: Nancy Wheeler.
Sometimes, a Type 1 curse will morph into a Type 2 curse, what we know as being flayed. This includes a slow infection of the victims mind as Vecna slowly overpowers them, to the point the person is lost entirely. The process can last up to 18 months, allowing Vecna's presence to go unnoticed for moths, even by the victim and their loved ones, but it can also be as quick as two weeks. Vecna does this in order to confuse people, create and control monsters, and have spies. Thankfully, there is a relatively easy treatment for this if detected early enough. It includes raising the temperature around the victim until Vecna releases their mind. A lot of the times the victim dies during this process. Known victims: Will Byers (cured), Billy Hargrove (†), Heather Holloway (†), Doris Driscoll (†).
The Type 3 curse is the worst and most dangerous one. It is preceded by nightmares and headaches, and it consists on hallucinations involving the victim's deepest fears, which makes it hard for hunters to detect on time since the visions are often so shameful that the victim will refuse to talk about it. Victims often report thinking they're going crazy. This type of curse is the most dangerous for both the victim and those around them, since it always results in the victim's death and the opening of a gate through it. It usually takes between one and two years for the curse to complete its cycle. The first victim Nancy saw with her own eyes was Max, who was the first person to ever survive one of Vecna's attack, though now she's in a coma with little hope of waking up. The hunters thought music would help - and it did, for a time, but it wasn't enough and now they're back to square 1. Currently, investigating, finding a cure and taking care of new victims has been assigned as Nancy and Jonathan's task. Known victims: Victor Creel, Chrissy Cunningham, Fred Benson, Patrick McKinney, Max Mayfield, Barbara Holland. Suspected victims: Robin Buckley.
The Hopper family has been keeping a written record of every supernatural thing that has happened in Hawkins for the past 40 years, though many statements and files are incomplete, or they're minor vampire or werewolf sightings, or they lead to dead ends. Plus Jim hasn't been taking care of it at all and now it's a disaster. Jonathan and Nancy spend a lot of time trying to fix that.
Will is currently being instructed by his mother in the tradition of monster hunting.
Will's friends have been trying to convince Joyce to let them become monster hunters too, but Joyce doesn't think it's a good idea. Nancy hates the idea of Mike becoming one, specifically.
Monster hunters don't go anywhere without at least a gun and a knife. Robin hates it when Nancy shows up to her house with weapons, because her parents hate guns and she's kinda uncomfortable with them.
Traditionally, monster hunters used to work with dogs and horses a lot. Dogs were useful to track down monsters, and they could fight or distract them, while horses allowed hunters to move quickly through the forest. Nowadays, Nancy, Jonathan and Jim Hopper, the most active hunters in Hawkins, prefer cars.
El and Will, being the youngest hunters, are often relegated to administrative work in Hopper's archive. Joyce can fight, but she's generally better with research and logistics. She's pretty much the leader of both the Byers AND the Hoppers, with Nancy being her right hand man.
Nancy often goes on small hunts alone. It's her way of channeling her anger.
Monster hunters get a (pretty miserable) earning from the oldest and wealthiest hunter families in the country, so they can dedicate themselves to hunting full-time. It's not much, and often more than one member will need to have a job on the side to maintain a full family, but it's something.
#comphet robin buckley#ok i found a name for this au it's gonna be#in the woods somewhere AU#i'm gonna go edit all my other posts abt it to keep it all tidy and clean#ronance
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I just. The parallels in Hector and Isaac’s designs are so good.
I love the angel/devil motif they have going on. Hector is conventionally pretty, with a soft face, long wavy silver hair, baby blue eyes, and is dressed in blue (and black, to symbolize his dark past). Isaac has stronger features (which is a godsend among the plethora of “same faced long haired pretty boys” drawn by Kojima), slick red hair that covers half of his face, grey/yellow eyes, and is dressed in reddish black. He even wears red makeup and has black tattoos all over his body.
The angel/devil motif is blazoned in the Devil Forgemaster crest as well, as they’re not one thing or the other, but in between. Not angels nor devils, not fully human nor fully otherworldly, always on the edge: from there, they choose their own paths. And I adore when in fanart their positions are reversed compared to the placement of the wings on the crest <3
https://at.tumblr.com/whitecatarts/hector-and-isaac-castlevania-has-always-been-one/2clhzacnuoqj
Speaking of Isaac in particular, red hair and yellow eyes hint at some kind of demonic nature. In the franchise, only two other characters have flaming red hair: the vampire Walter, and the Succubus in SoTN (and Simon in Chronicles, but I don’t understand why). Red hair has been historically associated with witchcraft and vampirism, and Isaac descends from a formidable family of dark sorcerers and is the loyal servant of a vampire. As for the yellow eyes, the only other character in the series with the same color is Alucard, a half-vampire. There is enough evidence to theorize that Isaac could be a cambion, or a changeling. After all, he and his sister Julia look absolutely nothing alike... Too bad that it would ruin the overall theme of “humans who don’t belong to the human world” :\ it’d make for an interesting AU, I think.
And yet, and yet. They still have part of each other in their design. Hector has a red sash wrapped around his waist; Isaac’s armor includes a little blue crystal. They also carry the pain caused by the other: Rosaly’s black headband is wrapped around Hector’s sash, as her tragic fate was caused by Isaac and Hector’s past; Isaac’s outfit is what’s left of his Devil Forgemaster uniform after Hector slashed and broke it, much like Hector’s actions indirectly broke Isaac. They’re intertwined to the core.
Isaac having the Devil Forgemaster’s crest tattooed on his back says a lot about him. Unlike Hector, who could take off his vest and stop being recognizeable as a Forgemaster, Isaac chose to be branded for life. This might also be why he stayed away from human civilization during those three fateful years: he really couldn’t have shown his face, or better his body, anywhere. It speaks about his loyalty, running much deeper than Hector’s, but also of his insecurity, so eager he was to show his commitment to his Lord. Hector didn’t need to be tattooed: his proficiency was more than enough.
Even their own names are parallels of each other! Hector is Greek in origin (most famous example being General Hector of the Trojan War) and it means “to hold fast” or “restrain”, hinting at his strong will that allows him to break free from Dracula’s Curse. Isaac is Biblical in origin and refers to the son of Abraham, who was nearly sacrificed in the name of God to prove Abraham’s loyalty: Isaac, loyal to Dracula beyond reason, also get sacrificed to his “God”, but unlike his namesake, he was not saved in time. It also means “he will laugh”, which Isaac does... a lot... not for good reasons...
Honestly at this point my only problem is with the details of Hector’s design. I have no clue of what’s going on with his arms, or if he has holes in his pants and how he covers them. But otherwise I really appreciate how much thought was put into both of them. And this is not even getting into the parallels of their personalities.
#castlevania#curse of darkness#hector castlevania#isaac laforeze#i care them... i care them too much...
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So we've got a time travel au now, but how about a body swap au? (Which somehow makes even less sense than time travel imo but shhhh don't worry about it)
I'm imagining captive Kane waking up in Jim's body, SO confused. He sees himself in the mirror and puts together what has happened. Despite the strange circumstances, he's relieved to be free of pain for the first time in so long but as he thinks about it he realizes, "if I'm here... then that must mean that Jim is...... oh no."
And Jim wakes up on a cold, hard floor, in a world of pain, and since he has no point of reference it takes him a moment to realize where he is and whose body he's in. And by that point the hunters would arrive to have their fun and Jim has to try to convince them that he's human. he swears. He's not supposed to be here!!
Would Kane try to find a way to save Jim? But how can he without contacting the hunters who tortured him? He'd be terrified.. He can't go home either, because he's not currently a vampire and would get eaten alive in vampire territory.
I have Kane and Jim AU brainrot rn (whumperstorm)
THIS IS GREAT. i have imagined "what if bodyswap au" before, but i've always imagined it in arc 3, present day. i've never even CONSIDERED a bodyswap during arc 2. this is genius.
oh, poor jim, the unluckiest man in the world.
kane would absolutely do everything in his power to save jim. the first problem would be finding him. kane doesn't know where the compound is. is prob able to find liz's phone number written down somewhere and call her for help. when liz first hears what kane has to say, she initially thinks jim is just having some kind of bizarre mental breakdown, but it becomes quickly apparent this is not the case. liz is horrified. immediately starts working on getting jim out of there, which is fairly easy for her to do. kane doesn’t even have to go. liz picks him up. kane is completely horrified to learn liz is a hunter, also. liz seeing kane in jim’s body recoil from her in fear makes her... really sad. she knows it’s kane, who she HATES WITH BURNING PASSION, but he just looks like jim.
jim is so incredibly confused and scared. he wakes up in an incredible amount of pain, and trying to explain himself just gets him hurt more. not to mention the fact that he’s unused to a vampire body, especially a starving vampire body. the sensation of total starvation is unlike anything he’s ever felt before. vampires also have much better senses than humans: the lights are too bright, the sounds are too loud, and he can smell everything. especially blood. jim isn’t used to having to restrain himself. gives into instinct and lunges at the first human he sees, and is punished severely with time in the sun for it, the worst pain he’s ever felt by a longshot.
liz manages to rescue him up pretty soon after this, and jim can’t even see or speak or move he’s so burnt. he can’t even really feed. liz pries his mouth open and drips as much of her own blood as she can into there. jim is clinging to her for dear life. liz is crying while assuring him “everything’s going to be okay, i’m here, i’ve got you.”
kane’s got... problems adjusting to being in a human body as well, despite how relieved he is to not be in pain- aside from the dull pain that never leaves his neck. he sees worse (can’t even see in the dark!), hears worse, and can barely smell anything. he’s still terrified of sunlight even though it won’t hurt him anymore. and humans have to eat so OFTEN. two or three times a day AND have to drink water. and so many options to pick from!!! he’s just glad he gets to eat again after years of starvation.
jim recovers within 2 days, being fed blood and all. once he’s brought back home, kane feeds him too. jim & liz keep kane. can’t exactly let him go running off in jim’s body, and kane’s too afraid to leave the house anyway. once jim is healed, the being-unused-to-body thing only gets worse. he’s so strong and so fast. keeps breaking things and running into walls. after that first day, he absolutely refuses to feed on liz. kane readily offers himself for feeding, teaches jim how to do it properly. this is the weirdest thing in the world to jim. feeding on kane in his own body.
a very interesting au indeed!
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