The moment Homelander sensed Starlight’s return to the tower, he immediately sought her out. Ignoring everyone who crossed his path, he headed right for her apartment and knocked on the door. Of course, she’d answer and assume he was there only to tease her. But the look on his face told otherwise.
When she would open the door, she’d be greeted to a very…exhausted and worried looking Homelander. His eyes were bloodshot and his hair was a mess. Quite frankly, he looked awful. But the Supe didn’t seem to care in the slightest.
“S-Starlight. Welcome back. I um…I need your help. I uh…fuck. I don’t…I don’t know what to do. I-…I’m a mess a-…and I…I can’t think straight.”
He said, trying to hold back tears as he looked at Starlight.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Second Chance
Chapter 28: Vampire Hunt
Hello my dear readers 😊 I guess, you all have been impatiently waiting for the following words and sentences that would a little bit explain what is going on. Agatha can´t help herself; and no one wonders why; she just wants the night to go on and not end even though the little ones occupy their bed. Taking Dracula's hand into her own and closing those catching oceans, she starts a mysterious sequence of events that takes the vampires to a dark deadly silent forest where only one word is repeated... - Run! - all around seems to whisper once the initial silence fades away...
Picture of Claes borrowed from one of @anncanta ´s posts :) thank you
P.S.: I took the inspiration for Agatha´s clothes from the Van Helsing movie ... she would definitely look glorious in those ... not wanna spoiling though ... :)
Hi, can you find a one shot for Dean where he gets kidnapped by this vampire and the reader rescues him, he kept telling the reader that they got him or they saved him. When they got back to, the bunker I think, Jody and Claire were there along with Sam, and Jody said that Sam should help Dean clean up but dean insisted on having the reader help him and took everyone by surprise, including the reader. It was really fluffy but I don’t remember who wrote it.
I’m sorry nonnie I could not find this in the allotted time. This has a lot of information so hopefully this can be found quickly
For any followers if this fic sounds familiar please add to the post so we can find this fic for Nonnie
Black Doves-part 3 (”Won’t you walk into my parlor?” said the spider to the fly)
They ended up filling their pockets with garlic, a couple of vials of holy water (acquired by Stan by totally legal means; honest) and a sack of rice each, because Ford had read about some types of vampires who, if they saw rice or salt or something like that spilled, would be compelled to stop and count every single grain. They also each wore a crucifix around their neck, and, just to be safe, a Star of David. And, in case they ran into non-vampiric threats, Stan brought his switchblades and his gun.
They locked up the house, leaving a note for Dan under the doormat, and then began hiking towards the old church.
Ford liked the comfortable weight of the crossbow in his arms; he kept aiming it at different possible targets as they walked, to the point where Stan had to occasionally pull him in certain directions so he wouldn’t trip over branches or smack into trees because he wasn't watching where he was going.
He’d always had a bit of a weakness for long-distance weapons, especially when he was younger and didn’t have the same upper body strength as his twin. Besides, it was a way of getting the upper hand on your enemy, which had really appealed to his young nerdy self (not that he wasn't still a nerd). He’d actually carried around a slingshot for a few years, until he and Stan were forced into boxing lessons and he’d gained a little experience in hand-to-hand. He still preferred having a little distance between himself and his foes, though, and had often considered getting himself a gun. But he had to admit, a crossbow was a lot cooler.
“If they are vampires, they’re either very subtle about eating, or do their feeding elsewhere,” Ford mused aloud. “I haven’t seen anything on the news about people being bitten, or any reports of exsanguination-” as oblivious as the inhabitants of Gravity Falls were about the local weirdness, he doubted they would be that oblivious- “so if they are feeding on the townsfolk it’s not to the point of killing anyone. Or perhaps they’re feeding exclusively on animal blood, or stealing from blood banks.”
“Would you want ta be a vampire if you got the chance?” Stan asked, idly playing with his switchblade as he walked; he tossed it up and down, flipped it, opened and shut it with one hand.
Ford considered the question. “Would you?”
“H_ll no.” Stan snorted. “Turn into an overgrown leech and never get a chance ta go out in the sunlight again, while everyone I loved grew old and died? No thanks. I’d rather be a werewolf.”
“...You do have a better suited personality.”
“Ha ha.” Stan flipped the knife again. “And you didn’t answer the question.”
“...I suppose, if I were an inch away from death or something and it was my only option for survival.”
“But that’s the thing, isn’t it? You wouldn’t survive. That’s why they’re called the undead.”
“Yes, but I would still be here. And hopefully, if I was the right kind of vampire, I could more or less remain myself, and continue my research of the supernatural and all that.”
“Except now you’d be an overgrown leech compelled ta drink the blood of the living.” Stan made a face at the idea.
Ford decided it wasn’t worth arguing about.
****
About ten minutes later, they stopped to rest and have lunch in a clearing. Ford made notes in his journal as he munched his sandwich, and just for the heck of it included his and Stan’s debate about the benefits of lycanthropy vs. vampirism. His brother did present valid points, to be sure, and becoming a member of the undead would definitely not be his first choice; but at the same time he could see the potential benefits as long as the concept of damnation was not a thing and you could control your thirst for blood...
He was startled out of his thoughts by Stan saying, “Hey, Poindexter. Check out these weird berries.”
His brother was standing at the edge of the clearing, next to some bushes. He came to investigate, and saw the aforementioned berries. They were bright green, and very uniquely shaped: round at the top, and then shaping into a slightly more angular shape on the ends. The pattern of black splotches decorating them meant that, if you looked at them the right way, they almost resembled tiny green skulls.
“Oh, I know those! Those are Lazarus berries!”
Stan gave him a raised eyebrow.
“That’s what the gnomes call them; apparently eating them makes you fall into a deathlike sleep for about half an hour.”
“...You don’t know that from personal experience, right?”
“No, I saw it happen to Shmebulock Senior. He does it whenever he wants the rest of the gnomes to pay attention to him more, and he’s always fine afterwards. Apparently they give him fake funerals every time, just to humor him.” Ford reached out and picked a few of the berries, shoving them into his pocket.
“Stanford.”
“They said that they should be perfectly safe for consumption by other creatures! And I’m going to study them thoroughly first; give me some credit.”
Stan did not look appeased. “Please don’t poison yourself just for the cause of science or I’ll kill you.”
Ford rolled his eyes, and went to gather up his stuff.
****
They were almost at the church, when they heard some rustling in the underbrush over to their left.
Quickly they ducked behind a pair of trees, and held their breaths; Ford gripped his crossbow, which was currently armed with an iron shaft, and Stan slipped on his brass knuckles meaningfully.
Despite the laws of irony that usually cover situations like this, when the sounds became progressively louder as whatever it was got closer, what came into their line of sight was not a harmless deer or rabbit, like some of you might have been expecting.
It was one of the darkly clad figures they were looking for.
Under his hood, his skin was as pale as milk, and even his lips were bloodless, in contrast with the dark of his hair and eyes. His feet made almost no sound as he walked, the only noise coming from him was his arms brushing against low-hanging branches. Either he was an extremely angsty teenager who was very good at sneaking around, or he wasn’t exactly human.
Ford could feel his heart pounding with excitement, try as he might to calm himself in case the vampire’s hearing was as good as the stories said. He glanced over at Stan with a grin that was eagerly returned, and as soon as their quarry was almost out of sight they began to creep after him.
Sure enough, he led them to the church, which had definitely seen better days; half the roof had fallen in, and it looked like there was moss growing all over the place. The possible vampire made his way to the door...and then called out, just barely loud enough for their ears to pick up, “They’re here.”
Ford barely had time to process this, and to feel a chill of unease rising up his spine and clenching in his stomach, before a soft, whispery voice spoke from behind them.
“Finally. You’ve come to us at lassssst.”
********
I agree with Stan, personally; I'd take being a werewolf over being a vampire any day of the week. At least then you're still technically alive, and just have to deal with a little problem once a month (which, being female, is already a thing for me :P).
...Oh, sorry, are you less interested in that than the enormous cliffhanger I left you on?
Sheesh, you people are always so impatient.
Summary: It had to be a dream, because only in Dean’s wildest imagination would Castiel appear in his bed in the middle of the night.
IT’S PRETTY MUCH JUST PLOTLESS SMUT AND FLUFF ☺️
Excerpt:
“How do you feel right now?” He whispered, leaning a bit closer, yearning for his response. For the words that would thicken the air between them, that would change the dynamic of everything that had ever existed before this moment.
Cas’s gaze flickered down to those lips and hovered for a small eternity before meeting his own once more.
“I... I feel...” He was leaning forward, perhaps subconsciously, and now Dean could feel the moist puff of breath as Cas exhaled.
Collection de kit de chasse aux vampires. Le dernier serait un ensemble ayant appartenu a Marie Lavau, la mythique reine du vaudou de la nouvelle Orléans.
"Did you hear about the massacre across the border?" The voice catches Cas' attention from across the diner. He throws a glance over his shoulder to catch sight of the man speaking. He's a regular. Fading ginger hair, round face and stomach. Wiry beard. He's a truck driver bringing good from Canada who always stops in to gossip with Elise.
Cas listens in as the man talks with the diner owner while continuing his own duties. The truck driver has been coming past here for decades, stopping in for Elise's specially made coffee that always conjures favourite memories with its taste. For the past couple of years he's enjoyed the pie too.
When he leaves, Elise waves Cas over. "Vampires then?" Cas says, as Elise repeats the story.
Elise nods. "You'll leave this afternoon?" Cas nods back. "I wish you'd take Rowan with you."
"No." Cas shakes his head. "Rowan is sloppy from fighting drunks. He's not ready to fight those with speed and power." Rowan was strong and quick and clever in a fight, but he never honed his skills. He was getting better, sparing with Cas, but it would be dangerous to bring him along. Rowan might complain but Cas would rather Rowan complaining about not being useful rather than dead.
Cas runs into Zane when he goes to pack. "I'm going to be away for the next couple of nights." He lets them know. "Night People causing trouble up north. I'm going to go take care of them."
