Max hated hospitals. She always had. Usually, she had her mom or her dad with her, making it easier. But not this time. This time, they didn't even know she was there. She'd snuck out of her room when everyone was sleeping and, hopefully, would be back before they woke up. It'd already been hours of sitting in a waiting room, uncomfortable, scared, anxious. Surrounded by sick people. That anxiety only ramped up when they finally brought her back to a room. Even more so when a man walked in--though he was clearly a doctor--and called her Maxine. "It's, uh...just Max." She shrank in on herself a little, cheeks flushing. "...Please." Fidgeting, she resisted the urge to hug her knees to her chest like a little kid. "You're, um...no one's going to tell my parents I'm here...right?" ((for Jack!!)) - @normaltothemax
In his experience, those words had a nasty habit of being the start to nothing good.
“Max, alright.” An easy enough of a concession that was quickly noted into the computer and some notes on his first quick observation. Pale, sweaty, Jack was also pretty sure he had seen a bruise under a sleeve...
This one probably wasn’t going to be good.
“Well, that’s probably going to limit what I can do for you unless you’re 18, but we’ll see what we can do.” The fact that the kid was here in the ER at God awful in the AM long before the sun even thought about rising? Wasn’t leaving Jack with much hope over the possibility of not getting flogged for possibly treating a minor without legal guardian consent.
He went ahead with noting that down as well. “Says here you were experiencing severe abdominal issues and had fallen down the stairs and think you've broken a rib...?” It definitely wasn't, Jack had been working this job long enough to know a fall down the stairs wasn't why a child showed up in his ER at one in the morning. "Is there anything else?"
HEAVY CW: assault, stalking, drugging // vampire shit, y'know
It was cold. And wet. The rain had been seemingly unending, and Eddie couldn’t find anywhere to shelter from it. Too many tall buildings, where the hell were all the awnings, at least?! The wind shifted, biting in through the holes in his beaten up leather jacket. “F-fuck…” It was like he couldn’t hold warmth inside himself.
His belly ached with hunger, but even the thought of the half eaten granola bar in his pocket sounded disgusting. It wasn’t what he needed, and he knew that, but he was fighting it, not wanting to hurt anyone else. Walking through the alleyway to help cut the wind chill a bit, he rounded the corner.
Sweet. Like honey with just a tinge of copper, it was the smell drew him in. He hadn’t even realized he’d been stalking after a person right up until he had them pulled into the alleyway.
He didn’t even look at her face. Just pressed her up against a wall, pulling her head back with a fistful of hair to bare her throat. The moment his teeth cut into her, he pumped as much of his venom as he could to numb the pain and quiet her distress. I’m sorry, oh god I’m so sorry- he tried to fight it, he really did.
But like something wild and predatory had pushed him out of his body, he moved without thought, without hesitation. Driven by a single need: blood.
Pulling back from the bite just enough, he let the blood flow, not letting even a single drop slip away. It was intoxicating. Like sex, drugs, and rock n roll, all in one divine, disgusting drink. He felt both drunk and high, but instead of sedated, he felt rejuvenated. The cold was slowly leaving him as he stole her warmth. The more he drank, the stronger he felt.
Eventually, he was strong enough to stop. Pulling off her half moaned, half growled, a deep satisfaction so overpowering he forgot to freak out. Sliding his tongue across the bite, he lapped up the last drops. When he looked, the wound had sealed closed- leaving only four partially healed puncture wounds as evidence he’d even been there. Huh. Well, that’s new.
Looking at her now, limp in his arms, he felt his fear begin setting in as his sense of self returned. “Oh- oh God no, not- not again- Miss? H-hey, Miss?!” He shook her, and she slumped against him. “Shit, shit!!”
She wasn’t cold. She was still warm, and aside from the clear sedation, it was clear enough she wasn’t in any immediate danger. Still, she was practically passing out, and didn’t seem aware of anything happening. Had he used too much venom? None of the people he’d bitten before had been this out of it, he’d thought he was helping-
He hadn’t seen a payphone for more than a mile, what was he going to do? If he showed up with her at the hospital, like this? His face might not be well known outside Hawkins, but there were sure to be questions, and what if they tracked him down? What if-
Apologizing all the while, he set her down. Grabbing her bag, he dug through her purse until he found an ID. “Maxine… Parker…” he mumbled, trying to ignore the way a young ginger kept popping to the front of his mind, haunting him like a ghost. Was she even alive…? Was he?
Finding the address, he was relieved to see it wasn’t far off. So, dragging her, pressed to his side as they made their way stumbling towards her place. Picking the lock would’ve been easy, but he’d fortunately found her key.
For a moment, he had the mad notion he might not be able to enter without permission. Barking a sharp, anxious laugh, he stepped through with her. “Oh no don’t knock that-! Ooo… kay, let’s just hope that wasn’t important,” he cringed as she knocked over a dish, scooping his arm around her. “Okay, okay… let’s get you to bed, sweetheart,” he cooed, pulling her so she leaned on him.
Making it to bed, he laid her out, before taking her shoes off and tucking her in. Petting her hair as he did it, he gently turned her face, looking at the damage to her neck. It was bruising, but the punctures had closed, and with no more blood, he felt a lot better about sitting and breathing a moment.
He should leave, he thought, anxiety creeping up again and making him tap his foot and chew his nails. Looking at her though… limp and helpless, bruised and bitten… the guilt ate at him. He stayed, waiting for her to wake up.
I am so screwed, he thought, running his hands down his face.
@normaltothemax // plotted starter, post-S4 vamp!Eddie // I may have gone a lil too far, oops. feel free to DM to plot something else if it doesn't work! C:
☀️-- Being asked to talk at schools was still an extremely strange thing, still something that Clark was hardly used to. Normally he declined, but somehow he'd been roped into this one. At least it was only one class of high-schoolers. Although they were somehow even more brutal than the middle-schoolers. He had his arms crossed over his chest, trying not to shift foot-to-foot.
He maintained his smile. "Now, are there any questions? They can be about me, the work I do, the League..."
Gosh, he really didn't know how to handle this kind of thing.
@normaltothemax sent:
" i have no bedtime, i am god. " ((Cass @ Will xD))
PROMPTS BASED ON WEIRD SHIT ME & MY BF HAVE SAID TO EACH OTHER || accepting
Will inhales, then exhales. The pen he's holding between his fingers slides along smooth paper to finish that sentence he's been writing into his journal; One more word is being added, a dot following, then he sets said pen to the side and closes the journal shut - the action is followed by him reaching for his almost-empty glass of Whiskey, the rest of the amber liquid being poured into his mouth in a swift motion.
A brief knit of brows at the burn, a swallow, then he's turning on his seat to put the book back into the suitcase he keeps his everyday-belongings within. It's pushed between layers of fabric, the zipper of that suitcase closed after, before he sits back up and - finally - glances over to where that unusual companion of his is curretly lying face down on top of what is her designated bed.
It's the only thing not wrapped into white linen currently, standing out like a sore thumb of sorts, since William wraps up every piece of furtniture whenever he moves into a new hostel room.
... Usually, that is. He does not own enough linen to wrap up a second bed.
"---You're far from being god, kid." Just a matter of fact, followed by a heavy-lidded gaze, unimpressed. "That said, I'm quite sure god also has a bedtime of sorts. You've been up all day, you gotta get some rest eventually."
Will has never wanted to be a dad, he tells himself - well, fate fucked him in the ass, because here he is, being a dad to a girl who is basically a legal adult, yet is not at the same time.
@normaltothemax sent:
❛ can you please pretend to be my boyfriend for a moment so my ex this guy will leave me alone ? ❜ ((Max @ Santiago? altered bc it's probably some rando rather than an ex))
First meeting sentence starters || accepting
Santiago's friends tend to call him a ladies-guy on the regular, simply because he's got some history sticking to him; For one reason or another, those informants he'd connected himself to for a variety of jobs had ended up being female, usually quite nice to look at on top of that... but honestly, that one ain't his fault, right? He certainly does not choose who to trust based on whether he finds them attractive or not! It had just happened - and, despite his buddies claiming otherwise, Santi did not get intimate with all of them.
...Anyways - while he did not get called a ladies-guy tonight so far, simply because he hasn't even reached his desired destination yet, it seems that something else happens to him instead; He almost misses it, the fact that he's approached while making his way through the rather lively late-evening streets - but for some reason he does decide to look back over his shoulder upon hearing a lady ask for assistance in a rather unique way, and that makes him realize that she had been talking to him, of all people.
Him, Santi. Asked him whether he could pretend to be her boyfriend because of some random guy---
---It immediately causes a gaze to darken as brown irises flick to the side, gazing over the woman's shoulder to take a peek at who she could possibly mean; It's easy to spot that asshole, however, with how intendedly (and creepily, for fucks sake) he's staring, already making his way over in what certainly is a man on a mission there...
Santiago is a ladies-guy, yes, but not only because of said history that sticks to him - he's very much on their side, and he's very much despising those who only seem to think with their dicks rather than their (usually quite nonexistent) brain cells...
It doesn't even take him a second to slip right into the boyfriend-act; His gaze returns to the lady next to him, expression changing into something that makes her seem familiar to him, open and gentle, a smile on his lips---
"...There you are!" Yeah, he's announcing that one, making sure it can be heard over the chatter of others - and his arm curls around her waist to pull her in, a careful hug of sorts, trying to make it look believable without going too far here. "Been lookin' for you, darlin' - sorry 'bout havin' disappeared on you like that! You alright?"
---And those dark brown eyes are back on that stranger he can take an even better look at now, with him having his chin rest on her shoulder, face turned in his direction because of the embrace. His gaze is sharp, a little dominant; Santiago knows how to stand his ground.
@normaltothemax ;; ; a game of telephone (still accepting)
[ TXT ] : who is this? ((Max, but hear me out - after he actually died for real and she doesn't know he's been brought back -eyes-))
[text: guardian angel thing] Bro did you delete my number so soon???
[text: guardian angel thing] that makes me depresso
[text: guardian angel thing] it's your favorite archangel back from the dead again!
@normaltothemax asked: "Is that my shirt?" ((Clint @ Tim, don't judge me))
tim doesn’t look up when clint comes in the room. he’s got his nose buried in a case file, one hand holding his tablet, the other clutching at a mug like a lifeline. it’s been a long night. he’s not sure how long it’s been since he slept. or what number coffee he’s on at this point. exhaustion drags at him, words blurring on the tablet screen in front of him. he knows at this point that he should sleep but he’s so close to putting it together.
the words, though, make him blink, and he looks down at the soft grey-purple shirt he’d snagged after he’d stripped out of his own suit. it falls down his thighs, covering his boxer briefs and making it look like he’s not wearing much else.
a little smirk crosses his face and he sets down his tablet and coffee, finally turning to look at clint. “mine had blood on it.” he shrugs deliberately, the worn collar of the shirt slipping off his shoulder to show off his collarbone. he tips his head enticingly.
“why?” he asks, sounding almost innocent. “did you need it or something?” his thighs part slightly on the stool, making the shirt ride up his legs. the edge of his tattoo peeks out, the red tip of the dragon’s tail ending on his inner thigh.
he'd been in the manor, watching the kid sleep. it felt insane, but he had to know he was still breathing, wasn't having a nightmare, wasn't scared. it felt too similar to the days after his own parents' murder. and then the alarm went off. an intruder in the cave. he moved. faster than he ever had, putting on the cowl, hiding his identity. striding into the cave, his eyes found the intruder, trapped behind electrified bars. trying to escape. ' how did you get in here? '
