#caleb*

[wulft-arc]

i just wanna say, caleb falls in love easy.   that being said, will he admit it?   no.   but if you’ve seen him at his worst and didn’t turn away from him / or call him a monster, he’ll probably fall in love w/ u

[ghoulluck]

The vampyress picked out a new tube of lipstick from the lit counter. The display stated that the makeup line was dior. She hummed some as she tucked glassy hair behind her ear. In the superior lighting, her skin was nearly golden although the sun had not touched her skin in centuries. 

She looked at the color. Brown with what looked like a gold color. She swatched it carefully on the back of her hand. The texture was a dreamy creme like a mousse. Fatima sighed softly at how pretty the color was. “Miss,” she stated as she capped the tube. The worker was an older woman, tired looking and she looked distasteful at the young looking vampyress. “I liked this color, if you will?” She presented to the other who checked the color and produced it. 

“Let me mother,” Caleb had not been so far away. Her lips twisted into a shy smile, “no need.” Her fingers touched his chest as he put an arm around her waist. The woman raised an eyebrow at the duo as she rang up the tube of lipstick. “Mother? You look so young.” Fatima’s pretty claws touched along her pretty child’s collar. 

“I’m much older then I look.” The lady bagged the item as Caleb fished for his wallet. “Congratulations on your genes.” Fatima smiled a little as his card passed and she felt a little ball of guilt. “Thank you, son.” He nodded lightly, “anything for you, mother.”

[ghoulluck]

“M–mother?” The hair she had kept so long for so many centuries had been cropped into a short glassy bob. She looked a bit older with the change although her face was eternally youthful. In her hands she held a long thick braid. “Do you like it?” She asked hesitantly. 

He could see it in her face that she was regretful as her eyes were lined with red. He touched the glassy hair cautiously. It was slick to the touch. He didn’t know what to say, because he didn’t like it solely because she didn’t like it. He brushed it easily behind her ears. 

“I do,” he tried to reassuring the vampyress who squeezed the hair in her lap tightly.

[ghoulluck]

It was the first time in the year when she had slept when the earth pulled her to it’s side. She laid in the canopied bed. It’s thick layers of curtains hid her from the morning light. It looked like a great cream colored masoleum with all the flowers that surrounded it.

Vampyres did not dream usually. Whenever they did, it revealed something to them. She shifted into caleb’s side. In the dream he looked peaceful in his sleep, but he wore a tired frown from the constant tug and pull of mikael’s beckoning presence. She moved to smooth it away. She touched her son’s beautiful face and throat. His pulse was slow and steady. Black hunger grew in her eyes as she studied caleb. Secretly she had been taking from him. Usually it was a little nip to his fingers when she kissed them. Every day the hunger grew inside of her. 

She wished that she was still alive. She wished she had been able to feed him from her breast after giving birth to him. Letting someone else bring him into her eternal life was as wrong as mikael’s presence. She ran her nose across his pulse. He stretched his neck to her with a soft sound of pleasure. To her ears it was permission. She buried her teeth in his flesh. There was always something almost erotic about the moment. 

She had fucked mikael as his poison spread through her in more ways then one. Caleb made a weaker sound, one of wakefulness as he began to identify the situation. She pressed her chest against him. The side of her hip felt the strain of the bite’s side effect. Intense pleasure. She twisted into him as she drank deeply from the wound. Some blood spilled past her lips as she drank greedily. It stained the blush colored sheets until his fangs emerged. 

He turned them on her as she fell away from him to lay under him. She grasped him between her arms and legs as he drank deeply from the crude wound. It felt like hours and then she woke up. Her skin was flush with sweat. She could vaguely recall the dream. The taste of iron made her smack her mouth as she shifted her legs to ease tension she still felt in between them.

 She had in effect given birth to him in her dream. She turned her head towards the curtains. There was no more light. She avoided the temptation to make her dream a reality. She did not come home until it was nearly dawn and she did not go to bed until he had gone from it.

[ghoulluck]

Fatima sat at the vanity. Her head was lowered as Mikael pulled the strings of her corset tight. It was a gift from her husband – she kept forgetting to refer to him as an ex husband, but despite their separation, she couldn’t see him in a different role. He still had hold over her life and soon he would have hold over Caleb too when the time came. 

She had been acclimating her son to the frigid barbaric vampire. Caleb had a very obvious distaste for the other. She didn’t blame him. The metal of the corset creaked once it had met it’s limit. She looked back at Mikael who had never taken his eyes off of her. He was a terrible beauty, pale like snow and with the features of an angel painted in churches. “I never understood these until I saw you wear them.” He had tied it so tight, that had she been alive she would have fainted from the lack of being able to breathe. 

The blush color was one of her favorites as it was soft, feminine and girlish. It made all her features that much more darker. He passed his hands across her shoulders. He was as cold as ice. She closed her eyes when his hands ran down the length of her arms. There were times she had to admit, she missed him. He reached into her jewelry box to pull out an old necklace she never used anymore. It was a large rose colored stone inlaid in gold. It was a wedding gift from her first husband. He had dressed her up like a virgin then defiled her. 

Mikael put this stone against her chest. She was still a young vampire and so she was still warm as a result. Her skin erupted in goosebumps. She had been wearing the necklace the night she had met mikael. His head fell to her shoulder to kiss along it. She could feel his teeth across her skin and she gave a hard gasp when he bit into the tender flesh of her neck. his hands slipped across the corset to feel the exaggerated curves it created. She could feel the pressure of his hands over her beasts before suddenly he was gone. 

Caleb stood in the doorway, his eyes were cast down and suddenly mikael’s show of affection made her feel shame. Fatima opened her mouth to say something, but couldnt find the words. she could feel the trickle of lukewarm blood drip down across her chest and Caleb came to her side to gently dab it away with the work rag in his hand. 

His expression was full of hurt. She reached up to lower him to his knees. She wanted to tell him anything at all that might make the expression on his face go away. Her voice faltered and the vampiress watched as he put his head on her lap.

[ghoulluck]

Fatima touched his curls as he laid down his head in her lap. Her long, long spanish waves of hair fell clear past the bed and spilled over the floor. "People like to think we came from Nosferatu. He is only a character in a book. I came from a man who claimed that he was born from a god in the trees." She watched Caleb's brow knit some, "A god in the trees?" She gave one nod. 

"He had been a god for a very long time by the time Mikael had come across him. He had been very badly burned. Not by his worshippers or by his own means. He suddenly burst into flames, so Mikael claimed he was told." She touched Caleb's strong chest briefly with her clawed hand. Her child had become so strong. She puffed up in pride. Among men, her child was a fearsome fighter now. 

She had watched him cast his fists for her honor and despite the prick of fear that had bubbled up, he had won her honor back from a crude man who had disrepected her. She took his hurt hands in her's to kiss the back of his knuckles. "He said to Mikael, that it was punishment for hurting the mother of all them. She punished all her children. Could you imagine that? Suffering a crime you did not commit." 

A bit of blood was left on her lips and she licked it away without thought. Flashes of his life came to her. Slavery had been awful. Painful. Sears of flesh burned on her back. The very same skin that was scarred on his. "That is no mother," she stated, "Anyways, the punishment killed most of these blood gods and Mikael was blooded by one in particular. I am his only child and I was also his wife." 

Caleb flexed his fingers as he brought them back down to lay on his chest. "Was?" Her mouth pursed as she nodded, "I wanted a child. He refused to make one for me." There was a twitch of understanding on his sweet features, "Couldn't you make one like you?" She shook her head. "See, when he made me his immortal child and spouse, he took my ability to create in my womb. I would have to be strong with the blood. I am stronger with years, yes, but I would hate to make a weak child. He warned me if I were to try, he would kill it because it was not his by default. We are very terroritorial. We stay away from one another and we fight for the common areas." 

Caleb had seen Mikael once before. He was a tall pale man who had a sort of awful beauty that came in once peaceful kind man who had turned into cruel, evil creature. "He'd kill you." She hoped somewhere in Mikael, he still had an ounce of love in his heart for her and would blood Caleb for his own safety and strength. "Now, I am hungry and I would love to have the dinner you prepared for me. I'll tell you more about what I am after. It's late Caleb. You must sleep." 

She moved away to let him lay amongst the pillows instead and she kissed his forehead. "I love you, my child." His eyes blinked shut briefly. "And I love you mother." She brought the blanket over him with a sigh and made sure his feet were covered so he wouldn't get sick. "Sleep sweetly with the angels." She drew closed the curtains of his bed and shut the window to lock it. 

"Do you want your foot warmer?" 

"No, thank you mother." 

She gave his foot a squeeze to make sure they weren't cold to her touch. Leaving the fire burning, she took her night coat from the seat to pull it over her cool shoulders. She closed the door behind her and descended to the basement with the wines. 

Tucked in between them was the body of the man who had disrepcted her. By now, she was sure the man understood she was not the eldery widow he had assumed her to be when he had tried to steal her purse and almost unveiled her to the sun. She dragged the man out by his hair. He would suffer now.

[ghoulluck]

Fatima wiped at her face carefully with the wash cloth. She rarely faced mirrors because they reminded her of the body she was stuck with. She was young and wide eyed and ghostly. The mirror could not capture her entirely. It was as if she was an image under the in lay of the reflective surface, much like the future inventions of photography and what was to come. 

Fatima could see the permnance of her youth with the exception of the funny way her eyes reflected white in their centers instead of black. It reminded her she was not truly an elderly widow like she played. She was a little girl with an old soul. Furstrated, she pushed away from her vanity to roll up into her bed. Kaleb was already older then her physically and soon he’d look like her father, and then her grandfather and then he’d forget her and die and– she cried. 

Mikael was right. There was no use having a child, much less a human one. Fatima never remembered being so sensitive, never in her life about anyone and this included her sire and husband. She moved away from her bed, unable to sleep although her pull to the earth told her that the day was starting to rise. 

She tiptoed around the house to reach her child’s room and she crept into the bed with him to curl around his head where she would be safe from the sun. He stirred so little as she took a blanket to hide herself under it. It was amazing, her lack of temptation to drink from his veins and her urge to preserve him from even herself even when she knew it meant she would loose him. 

She pressed the side of her blanket covered head to the side of his. His hand came to touch her lightly. He rubbed her shoulder as if to say, I am here mother. She had no other choice, soon, out of her own selfishness she would need to change him. She’d give him a little more time in hopes perhaps the desperate need to relieve her own fear of losing him would fade.

 She hoped he would run away with someone he loved to spare her the pain of this terrible need. She ceased to breathe and she fell into a rigid sleep like all the unnatural of her kind did.