Oct 8, 2017
@beccaylaa @luxxyb
What was dialogue between Ash and Stefan turned into a writing snippet I’m REALLY not sure what the plot or backstory is.
"Don't. Laugh." Stefan snarled through gritted teeth.
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Nepal
seen from China
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from Russia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Argentina
seen from Pakistan
seen from Poland
seen from Brazil
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
@beccaylaa @luxxyb
What was dialogue between Ash and Stefan turned into a writing snippet I’m REALLY not sure what the plot or backstory is.
"Don't. Laugh." Stefan snarled through gritted teeth.
Ash let out a small snort of laughter. He was walking slowly beside him, desperately trying to contain his mirth. Stefan let out an aggravated sigh.
"Let it out in the car then," he said.
Ash wiped away a few tears from his eyes. He ran out the house and jogged toward their car at the end of the driveway. He hastily unlocked it, threw the door open, and ducked into the passenger side.
Stefan heard his uproarious laughter from the porch.
"I'm never living this one down," he muttered to himself.
He was halfway down the hilly driveway now. Through the rolled up driver’s side window, Ash was hunched over in his seat, still laughing. He was probably crying from it, if the eye wiping was any indication.
@beccaylaa @luxxyb
What was meant to be just a bit of discarded dialogue for @charcoal-soul turned into something of its own. Whoops.
The movie referenced is on YouTube, but it’s not subtitled.
Title: Date Night, (Mostly) Interrupted.
“What did you pick for our historical movie night?” Ash asked from the kitchen.
“Legenda o knyagine Olge,” Stefan replied.
“The Legend of Princess Olga, right?” Ash inquired. He walked into a living room with a tall glass of clear liquid that Stefan could only hope was water and not vodka. “Where the hell did you find a copy of it?”
“Yes, that’s it… and I’m sorry, but that’s top secret. I’m not revealing my anonymous sources.”
Ash hit him with a pillow.
-
Barely ten minutes into the movie, and right when they were finally getting comfortable enough on the couch, Stefan felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. After a bit of difficulty, he pulled the device out and looked at the number.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
“Who is it?” Ash murmured. He craned his head up from where he was snuggled against Stefan’s chest.
Stefan paused the movie and answered it.
“What do you want, Rene?”
Ash groaned with annoyance.
“There’s a woman following me! Did you tell the mob where I lived?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Stefan replied pleasantly. “But you should probably interpret that as a warning that you’re late paying them back.”
“So you did talk to the mob!” Rene shouted. He was loud enough for Ash to hear him plainly without the need for a speaker mode. “When I tell mother—“
“One, we’re not even related. Two, I’m having a date night and you’re interrupting it. Go ahead and tell our adopted mother about your little mob problem though, because we both know she’s not going to do anything about it.”
“At the next meeting, I’m going to rip your tongue out—“
“You lay a finger on me and I will rip your dick off like I gouged your eyes out back in the eighties,” Stefan threatened.
“That time was different!”
“That time, you verbally attacked me with anti-gay slurs and called my now husband a transvestite,” Stefan stated coldly. “You didn’t need your eyes then, and you definitely won’t need your dick if you touch me. Ambre told me you suck in bed anyway.”
“My personal life has nothing to do with this conversation!”
“Well, I’m ending this conversation. Call me again and I might answer while Ash and I are making out on the couch.”
Without waiting for Rene’s response, Stefan ended the call and set the phone down on the coffee table.
“Want to finish the movie?” he asked Ash.
“Please.”
Title: A No Bullshit Guide to Resisting Your Captors [or, Panic, Your Spouse is NOT Fine] Rating: PG-13 (Who has the potty mouth NOW?)
Direct sequel to this.
@beccaylaa
Ash scooted his chair back as far as it would allow, and maneuvered one of his legs so they rested on top of the spotless table. Both of his interrogators glared at him, but he didn’t care. It was day three, he hadn’t showered in four days, and he was still wearing his work uniform. He really shouldn’t have joked about getting kidnapped from work, because look at where that landed him!
“Let’s get straight to the point. You’ve held me here for three days and grilled me with questions about a relative I have never met,” he snapped. “First, you had your people kidnap me from my work, so there’s probably footage of that on surveillance cameras. Second, my husband is probably mad as hell and wondering where the hell I am. Do you know who he is?”
“We know who your spouse is, Veikko,” the first interrogator replied. “If you give us your full cooperation, we will release you.”
“That’s not my name! Also, do you want me to recite my full family history?” Ash said. He flipped his long hair out of his face. “Straight from the top, starting with Astrid? I can and I will goddamn do that. Anything to get out of this hole.”
“Astrid is not your ancestor’s real name—“
“How the hell am I supposed to know her real name?!” Ash exclaimed. “We only met two years ago when she accosted me at a bar and thought I was her fifth husband!”
“That’s beside the point, Veikko,” the second interrogator replied smoothly. “Your ancestor, the woman who started your family tree, is the younger sister of our escaped convict. We believe they may have had contact since the escape, and your ancestor may have told you something.”
Ash had to laugh out loud at that statement. He didn’t even care that the interrogator used the wrong name to address him. He laughed so hard he almost lost his balance in the chair and hurt his shackled wrists trying to balance himself.
“Oh… my… oh my god that is the biggest load of shit I have ever heard,” he gasped. Another weak chuckle escaped him. “I haven’t talk to her since she accosted me. She sent me along with the knowledge that she began my family tree and left with her biker gang. I’ve also never been in contact with or contacted by your escaped convict.”
“Veikko—“
“And you know what? I’m almost completely human! Elvish blood makes up, oh I don’t know, maybe five percent of my DNA? So what’s the point of keeping me here? I know nothing! I’m considered utter dirt by other pure elves because my supposedly flawless elvish heritage has been spoiled by human genes, and I don’t have a drop of magic!”
The two men remained impassive throughout his rant. One even looked bored, because this wasn’t the first tirade Ash had gone on. As Ash stewed in the silence and rubbed his aching wrists, one of the men abruptly stood up and left the room. Ash could tell he was listening to something through an earpiece.
“So, did my impassioned plea for release find a sympathetic ear?” he asked flippantly.
There was no answer from the remaining interrogator.
Five minutes passed. Ash tried to not concentrate on how dirty he felt – the minute he got home he was going to take the longest, hottest shower of his life. Maybe even try to recreate sauna-like conditions, if Stefan let him. If. Their water bill would be horrendous if he did that.
Ten minutes. The interrogator who had left the room returned, but he wasn’t alone. A woman accompanied him. She approached the table and swiftly unlocked the cuffs on Ash’s wrists.
“You’re releasing me? Finally!” he exclaimed.
“Our superior determined that you have no knowledge of the escaped prisoner. You may be released, but you will be kept under constant surveillance,” the woman replied.
“Nice try. I’ve been under constant surveillance since I immigrated to America all those years ago, just for having a smidge of elf blood. I hope you enjoyed the shows over the last five years, if the surveillance is that deep!”
No one seemed to understand the insinuation. If they did, they didn’t care. One of the elves extended their hand to him and touched his forehead with a single finger. There was an unnerving sensation that felt like he was dissolving—and then light exploded behind his eyes.
-
He was in his work’s parking lot, sprawled out on the concrete. He was next to his car, it was dark out, and there was a discarded store shopping cart next to him. He remembered being someplace and talking to people, but not now. He should remember. How—
White-hot panic raced through his veins as he sat up. He grabbed his cellphone – how was it still in his pocket? – and started slamming his fingers against the screen to send a text to Stefan. He distantly remembered something and started repeating it to himself so he wouldn’t forget.
Iwasheldforthreedaysandinterrogatedaboutsomeoneihavenevermet.
I DON’T KNOW WHAT JUST HAPPENED.
Iwasheldforthreedaysandinterrogatedaboutsomeone.
WHERE ARE YOU?
I’M AT WORK.
Iwasheldforthreedaysandinterrogatedaboutsomeone.
His phone rang.
“You were gone for three days and I couldn’t contact you!” Stefan exclaimed over the phone. “Are you all right?!”
“I-I don’t know what happened—“
Iwasheldforthreedaysandinterrogatedaboutsomeone.
“Get in your car and stay in there. Don’t drive home, Madge is—“
“I was held for three days and interrogated about someone!” Ash interrupted. “I don’t know who it was!”
Silence. There were multiple muffled voices on the other side.
“Stefan—STEFAN—“
“I’m still here!” Stefan exclaimed. “We know what happened. We’ll be there in five and explain everything.”
Ash heaved himself up and rested against his car door.
“Stef… what did I shout at you earlier?”
“You shouted my name. Loud enough for Ewa in the back to wince.”
“No… no, before that. It was before that. What did I say? I… I don’t remember.”
Title: Chilling the Fuck Out (or, listen to women and quit worrying about your spouse because he's gonna be fine) Rating: PG-13, if only for a certain someone’s potty mouth and brief mentions of sex
@beccaylaa
Stefan's hands shook as he fumbled with the paperback book. It was Carmilla, an ironic choice of literature for Ewa and her two wives to have on their bookshelves. He threw the book down on the coffee table and stood up from the chair he'd been sitting in.
"Fuck everything! I can't handle this," he growled. He started pacing in front of the three women lounging on a couch. "What the hell are they doing to Ash?! I-I can't fucking contact him! Our mind-link is severed!"
"Stef, chill," Constance demanded. "The High Court only has a few questions to ask him."
"It's been three days, and you're not helping," Stefan snapped. He sighed heavily. “Fuck, he should not have joked about getting kidnapped from work!”
"You've survived without his mental link before," Ewa pointed out. "Besides, brother, it's not like he's straight up abandoned you! He only has to answer questions for some bigwig elves. He's going to be fine."
"Those aren't just fucking bigwigs! These people oversee every goddamn activity done by elves, and he's distantly related to one of the most dangerous women to escape from their maximum security cell!" Stefan exclaimed.
"That's why I said they only have a few questions to ask him," Constance said. "It's been three days because Vanis's younger sister has a lot of descendants - your husband slash walking blood bank among them."
Stefan silently objected to the 'walking blood bank', but kept his mouth shut. He wanted to punch the nearest wall in frustration, but Ewa would murder him. He continued to pace, this time circumventing the circumference of the living room instead of walking in front of Ewa, Constance, and Madge.
At several intervals, he passed through what felt like cold spots. After the fifth one on his second trip around the room, he spoke up.
"Constance, can you dismiss these damn ghosts?!"
"No," she replied flippantly. She paused, almost as if someone invisible was talking to her. "They think your behavior is hysterical."
He stopped and stared at her, fuming. Ewa choked back a laugh.
"Stefan, listen," Madge finally spoke up. "Your mind-link with Ash is still present. However--"
Stefan opened his mouth to interrupt, but Constance beat him to the punch.
"Let her finish talking or I’ll break that seal preventing your former wife from haunting your house," she warned.
Stefan closed his mouth.
"--as I was saying, you're not severed from Ash, but the magic surrounding the building's interior and exterior is smothering it," Madge continued calmly. "If you were actually severed from him, you would know."
"I feel like I've been severed from him!" Stefan complained. "What if they're torturing him?! What if--"
He didn't get a chance to finish. A strong slap to the face made him lose his balance and fall, crashing into a delicate end table and taking it down to the floor with him. He lay dazed on the carpet, surrounded by cheap knickknacks and his cheek stinging to seven hells. When the stars cleared from his eyes, Madge was standing over him. She held out a hand to help him up.
"Are you all right, darling?" she asked softly.
Stefan grabbed her hand and she hauled him to his feet. He stared at her. The two of them were not particularly tall individuals. Madge was barely taller than him when not wearing heels, and she just delivered one of the hardest slaps he'd ever encountered in his undead existence.
"I'm fine," he replied.
"Liar," Ewa countered. "You owe me a new table too, jerk."
"Babe, stop," Madge told her. "I'll buy you a new one." She looked back at Stefan. "Do you remember anything I said before I hit you?"
"Ash is fine?" Stefan replied.
"Yes, he's going to be fine," she said. "If he's not, I'll march in there myself and give them hell."
"I can definitely count on you to do that," Stefan said sincerely. He looked at Constance. "Are you able to have some ghosts spy inside the building the High Court resides in?"
Constance shook her head. "Nope. Sorry, Stef. Madge showed me some of the wards on the inside of that place, and they definitely have spells to combat ghostly surveillance."
"Damn it," Stefan said softly.
"The best thing to do is wait," Constance stated. She shrugged nonchalantly. "You can have your reunion sex when he gets back."
"Constance..."
"What? You can fret over him when he gets back!"
"...That's not what you originally said," Madge interjected awkwardly.
"Whoops, my bad."
Title: A No Bullshit Guide to Planning an Assassination (or, Listen to Your Husband, He's Right and Don't Joke About Getting Kidnapped) Rating: PG
@beccaylaa I lied. There’s three stories.
Lilienne belongs to @luxxyb
Ash couldn't take anymore. He walked out of the bedroom and down the hall, coming to a stop just in the threshold of the living room. Stefan was sitting on the couch, staring at the news program playing on the TV but not actively listening to it. He looked over when Ash scoffed his feet against the carpet.
"Stef? We need to talk."
Stefan turned the TV off. "Here? Or more privately?"
"More privately."
Stefan raised his eyebrows but nodded in understanding. Ash followed him to the wall behind the couch, where the door to the other rooms was already open. He stepped through, feeling the magic wards brush against his skin. Stefan followed, and the door shut behind him with a hiss. Ash took off from there, heading for the room at the very end of the hall. He opened the door and waited for Stefan to catch up. Once they were both inside the room, Ash shut the door quietly.
At first glance, the room had seen better days. A bed with a rusty white bedframe dominated a corner, a threadbare rug graced the wooden floor, and a battered and chipped antique clothes chest was situated in another corner. A single lightbulb illuminated the space, showcasing peeling yellowed wallpaper of indeterminate pattern and color. However, the surfaces were cleaner than a military hospital and there was a clean mattress on the bed. An old blanket that was patched with several types of fabric was thrown negligently across it.
The wards pulsed the strongest here, enveloping exposed skin in a mild tingling sensation. Both men could hear the faint sound of a heartbeat if they listened close enough. Stefan made a mental note to ask Rosario if they had done anything to the wards the next time they stopped by the house.
"So," Stefan began. "What's going on?"
"The Elvish High Court," Ash answered. "They might come here."
Stefan opened his mouth to reply, but shut it and went to sit on the bed instead. The frame creaked loudly under him, but he wasn't too concerned at the moment.
Why would the High Court come here? Ash had no contact with them because he wasn't a pure elf. Rosario, Astrid, and Lilienne did, and so did Madge and her grandparents. He looked up at Ash, who was still standing on the rug.
"This is about Rosario, isn't it?" he guessed. Ash nodded numbly.
"They left me a voicemail. They said that the Court was looking for Vanis... and if they couldn't find her, they'd take her extended family in for questioning," he said.
"Vanis is dead," Stefan replied. Ash shook his head. "Bullshit. Rosario said--"
"It was a necessary lie they told you when you first met them."
"But... Vanis doesn't have direct descendants. She and Rosario--"
"She has a younger sister," Ash interrupted. He gave Stefan a knowing look.
Stefan stared blankly at the floor, digesting what Ash told him. He understood the white lie, but Vanis having a younger sister...? He looked back up at Ash, who was still giving him that damned look.
Then--
"Fuck," he growled. "It's Astrid, isn't it?"
Ash's silent nod confirmed his guess.
"As faint as my familial tie to Vanis is, I think the Court will still try to get information from me," he said.
"What about Lilienne?" Stefan asked. "For all intents and purposes, she's your cousin."
"I'm sure she has her own sources of information and is preparing for whatever happens," Ash replied. He rubbed his arms. "Or not. I really don't want to call and ask. She’ll probably bring the moon down on anyone trying to take her in for questioning.”
"What are you going to do?" Stefan inquired. "Do you know when the Court is coming?"
Ash finally deigned to sit down on the rug, not meeting Stefan's gaze. After a minute, he sighed and looked up.
"Rosario said it might be a week, but they promised to call if they spotted them. That should give me enough time to hide."
"You, hide?!" Stefan exclaimed incredulously. "I'd rather you—wait. You're going to hide and assassinate any Court member that comes here.”
“Of course I am.”
“How would you—“
"Know if they're hostile? That's where you come in," Ash interrupted. "I'm only going to kill those who don't politely request my presence."
"You're going to need a spotter if you're going to snipe from a rooftop," Stefan pointed out.
"I don't need one," Ash said. He sounded smug. "You just need to mentally alert me via our bond and I'll shoot in an instant."
"All right, suppose this assassination happens. What are we going to do with the body afterward?"
"We live in a neighborhood full of humans, and there are wards all over our property. A human wouldn't notice, because our guest would disappear from their view the minute they step onto our driveway and be invisible to everyone but us."
"They'll notice a gunshot, Ash."
"But--"
"I don't think this is going to work," Stefan interjected. "Too many complications. What if two of them showed up and you shot one dead?"
Ash fell silent.
"Anyway, I think we need to wait," Stefan continued. "Wait for Rosario to call back, for example... or maybe ask Madge to go and talk to them."
Ash shook his head. "Not Madge. The Court knows she's married to Constance and Ewa. I think they’ll suspect she's asking for information on our behalf, especially if she goes to them immediately after talking to us.”
"Damn. I keep forgetting that the High Court keeps records on all pure elves," Stefan said. He kept his gaze averted from the lightbulb, which was bright enough to hurt his eyes. “Let’s just wait for more communication. For all we know, Rosario has something up their sleeve already and is just waiting for the right opportunity to strike.”
“…Fine,” Ash replied. He sounded disappointed. “We’ll wait. But I’m giving them a week.”
“What are you going to do while you’re at work?”
“Do my job, of course. I highly doubt agents of the Court will try to abduct me from the store.”
@beccaylaa
Title: A No Bullshit Guide to Vampire Etiquette [Or, How to Care for the Person You Feed From and Other Rules] Rating: R (mentions of sex, language)
this is 8 pages in Word and I was generous enough to remove another 3 pages because it was dragging along.
Stefan was surprised at how packed The Witch’s Brew was at six in the morning. He slipped inside the café and squeezed into a growing line near the booths. Two cashiers were manning the registers, while Madge and another barista were making all of the orders with brisk efficiency. Everyone was talking over each other, Madge’s selected big band and swing playlist was playing over discreetly placed loudspeakers, the smell of fresh baked goods and coffee hung in the air, and all Stefan could focus on was whether the café’s upstairs occupant was all right.
“Number thirty-five, your order is ready!” a voice called out over an intercom.
The line moved slowly. When Stefan was close enough, he reached for the ticket booth and pulled. The scrap of paper came away easily, a bolded “67” stamped in black ink.
“I need more milk!” he heard Madge shout.
“Number forty-three, your order is ready!”
Stefan checked his phone. No calls or texts from Ash, which meant he was still sleeping. Good. He saw the reminder to meet with his foster father… and then he reopened the text from Amily, sent two hours ago. Just a simple Can we talk? No reason why she wanted to talk, this wasn’t sent with urgency… none of this felt right to him. If Amily needed help, she could have just shown up at his house or actually called.
Someone was shouting at one of the cashiers. The line inched forward, and Stefan got a good look at the customer when he looked up from his phone screen. Some bigshot businessman, face red with anger as he waved his credit card around.
“Why is my coffee priced so high?! I just ordered a medium roast!”
“Sir, you ordered the medium roast, as well as six magic shots,” the cashier explained calmly. “Each shot of magic, which comes from the establishment owner herself, is three dollars each.”
A couple of people left the line and exited the shop. Stefan moved forward, and the number on his ticket changed to fifty-three. He was close enough to see the menu and the customer shake with anger.
“I want to talk to your manager!” he snapped. “This is ridiculous!”
“Madge!” the cashier hollered over her shoulder.
Stefan watched with amusement as Madge finished her orders. It looked like she was hurrying, topping one drink with whipped topping and adding its lid while adding a shot of magic to another cup marked with the number forty-nine and a few abbreviations that stood for the various shots of magic that could be ordered. But he knew from experience that she was taking her sweet time getting to the complaining customer. She finally walked up to the register, adjusting the hair net keeping her short black hair out of her plump face.
“Riley, go on break,” she told the cashier. Riley quietly slipped away as Madge looked at the irate customer.
“Are you the manager?!” the man demanded.
“Sir, I own this establishment,” Madge answered sternly. Business slowly resumed around her. “Was there a problem with your order?”
“Why do I have to pay twenty-eight bucks for a cup of coffee?”
“You ordered a medium roast and six shots of magic to go with it,” Madge explained. “Each order is limited to three shots. However—“
“But I ordered six of them!”
Stefan wanted to listen to more of the conversation, but it was his turn to order. He approached the cashier and handed her his ticket stub.
“What can I get you, sir?”
“Large black coffee… if Madge gets finished with that guy, add a shot of preservation, a shot of warmth, and a shot of good luck,” Stefan replied. “Also, the upstairs occupant needs to speak with me.”
“Black coffee… three shots of P, W, and GL…” the barista muttered to themselves as they scribbled on a large cup. They looked back up at Stefan when they were finished. “Madge has the key, but I’ll let her know you need it. What’s your name?”
“Stefan,” he replied.
“All right. We’ll call you when your order’s ready.”
Stefan paid for the coffee and went to stand near the blocked off staircase that led to the upstairs loft. From where he was standing, he was close enough to a hidden speaker to hear a Peggy Lee song clearly… and too late for the grand finale of the confrontation between Madge and the irate customer. He saw the man storm out, his coffee in hand.
He hoped Madge slipped a shot of bad luck in that drink.
“Number fifty-one, your order is ready!”
The Peggy Lee song faded out and a loud blast of trumpets announced the next song. Stefan moved away from the speaker and headed toward the counter where customers grabbed their completed orders. Madge was setting a few down, and she smiled widely when he approached.
“Morning, darling. Do you want your coffee or the key first?” she asked.
“I can’t have both?” Stefan inquired.
“Another special regular spilled coffee over Llew’s laptop while visiting upstairs a few months back,” Madge explained. She shrugged. “Sorry dear, but rules are rules.”
Stefan sighed heavily. In hindsight, he was glad he picked the shot of warmth – the coffee would stay warm until Ash drank it all.
“Key,” he finally said. “Ash hasn’t sent anything since last night, and I need to know what Amily wants.”
Madge unclasped a necklace with two keys on it from around her neck. After putting it back together, she gave the necklace to Stefan.
“Don’t worry, that’s been under my apron and on top of my shirt. Let me know when you’re finished with your meeting and I’ll swap the keys for the coffee.”
“Deal.”
Curling his fingers over the keys, Stefan turned around and went to the blocked off staircase. One key opened the locked door, and only when turned in a specific way, and it took him a couple minutes of experimentation to figure out which one. The two locks changed every month—sometimes every week if Madge was feeling malicious. Stefan remembered her telling a story of the locks changing every hour, but she could have been pulling his leg.
When he used the right key and removed it from the lock, the door swung open inward on its own accord. Stefan stepped inside and the door shut itself behind him with a quiet click. He wasn’t worried though; the locks only changed once key holders were on the café side.
Before him was a short flight of stairs. It was pitch black, but he could see the outline of the steps gradually ascending to a door at the top of a short landing. A handrail had recently been installed along the right side of the staircase, but Stefan ignored it as he began the ascent up. Llew’s friends might need it, but he didn’t.
The second key opened the door up top, and Stefan was greeted with the same pitch black darkness that cloaked the stairway. The small flat was crammed with furniture, but if he was careful about how he walked he could move around. Once again, the door shut itself when he stepped through the threshold, but it shut and locked soundlessly. Stefan stuffed the keys in a pocket as he tip-toed around a table and two chairs. He stopped at the threshold of the living room.
“Amily? It’s Stefan,” he announced.
“I’m over here,” a high-pitched voice replied.
Stefan looked to the right side of the room. A teenaged girl was curled up on the large couch, her knees drawn up to her chest as she played on a handheld game device. Her long face was illuminated by the device’s artificial light, which was probably at its lowest setting.
“You’re up late. Is Llew asleep?”
Amily turned the device off and set it on the coffee table across from her. She motioned for Stefan to have a seat and he obliged.
“Yeah… he had a date with one of his classmates,” she replied with a small smile.
“I got your text a few hours ago, and I’m a little worried about it,” Stefan inquired. Amily looked slightly shocked that he didn’t want to know more about the date. “Was there something you needed?”
“I… I have questions. About being a vampire.”
Stefan looked at her, dumbfounded. One of his siblings should have spoken to her the minute they were contacted by another vampire. He knew he hadn’t done it; the incident had been a decade ago and both he and Ash were in Bulgaria dealing with a pair of troublesome twins.
“Amily, I’ll be more than happy to answer your questions,” he replied. “But first, I need to know who spoke to you after you’d been turned.”
“Um… he was black and had a strong French accent,” Amily stated. She looked away from Stefan, her long hair falling over her face. “I… I don’t remember his name very well. He was blind too.”
Stefan suppressed an annoyed groan. He knew exactly who Amily was talking about.
“His name was René,” he supplied. He wanted to add in a few choice remarks about his adopted sibling but elected to keep his mouth shut. “What did he tell you?”
“René was a little… vague on details, I think he just wanted to give me the broad picture and then leave as soon as possible,” Amily answered. “He told me that after I took blood from the person serving as a bloodbond, I had to do something for them. He didn’t specify what it was and I didn’t get a chance to ask him.”
“That’s why I’m here. I’ll answer anything my brother left unanswered,” Stefan said. He must have sounded vehement, because Amily shrank away. “I’m sorry if I scared you. René and I really… don’t have the best history together.”
“It’s all right,” Amily replied timidly. She played with a strand of hair. “There were other things he didn’t cover either.”
“What were they?”
Amily looked embarrassed. It was a few minutes before she responded, and it was in a voice so quiet Stefan had to strain to hear her.
“When I… feed, afterward my body feels like it’s… it’s on fire or something. Like I feel really… horny? It lasts for an hour but I hate every minute of it.”
“Amily, that’s a natural response,” Stefan explained. “You absolutely do not need to act on those urges if you’re uncomfortable. What have you been doing while the sensation lasts?”
“Last month I just went into the bathtub and poured ice cubes all over myself,” Amily said with a weak chuckle.
Stefan winced. Amily managed to laugh a little before sobering up and looking at him.
“So you’re sure I don’t need to, like, masturbate or anything during that one hour?” she asked. “I just find sex really disgusting—“
“No, you don’t,” Stefan interrupted firmly. “No one is going to judge you if you don’t have sex with anyone. You know Madge downstairs? She doesn’t like sex either.”
“I thought she was married to two other women.”
“Just because you’re married one person, two people, or even five people doesn’t mean you have to have sex with them,” Stefan answered. “Madge’s two wives are completely supportive of her and still love her all the same.”
Amily nodded slowly in acknowledgement. She looked relieved.
“Do I need to do anything for Llew after I feed from him?” she inquired. “He just… sleeps afterward and maybe has some food I made that Madge says helps.”
“After you feed from him, it’s better to let him rest. But René was right on that point, you do need to do something nice for him eventually,” Stefan said. “You’ve taken something from him, and now it’s your turn to… give back, so to speak. You don’t need to do the same thing every time, but I know some vampires who thrive on doing the same thing. You might be different.”
“What kind of things do you suggest?”
“Let’s use me for an example. I switch things up with Ash after I feed from him. Sometimes... well, sex is involved. Other times, I cook… though I’m not very good. I was actually banished to the basement for two weeks because of a dish I cooked.”
Amily snorted with laughter and had to cover her mouth with her hands. “D-do you do anything else?”
“There have been times where I’ve bought him something expensive, like his favorite top shelf vodka,” Stefan elaborated. “Or we marathon all of his favorite movies… or I let him beat me at Call of Duty. Which I generally don’t do very often.”
Amily smiled at that. “Llew can be a bit of a pushover when it comes to games too. He’s insanely good at some of the Mario games, and I just can’t beat him no matter what.”
She grew quiet after that. Stefan didn’t want to push her for more questions. He pulled his phone from his pocket and quickly checked the time. It was barely past six forty-five in the morning. The sun didn’t rise until a little after seven. If Amily kept him long after seven, that was fine. He could easily take a portal back home, hope Ash was still asleep, and leave the coffee as a present while he went to meet his foster father. He just hoped he could make that meeting with him as short as possible.
“Um… Stefan?”
Stefan hastily put his phone away and looked at Amily.
“Will I ever be able to go back outside? During the daytime, I mean.”
“Presently, and when it’s sunny out? Absolutely not. You’ll die, and Llew dies with you,” Stefan replied sternly. “As time goes on, at least every decade, you slowly become more tolerant of it.” He took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes. “Look... did I answer at least some of your questions?”
A couple of uncomfortable minutes passed before Amily nodded reluctantly.
“I… I have a few more, but they can wait I guess,” she replied. “I would’ve come over to your place, but I’ve never traveled by portal before and I don’t know where it leads on the other side.”
“The other side of the portal from here leads to my basement,” Stefan said. “Just about everything that lets light in is completely blocked, so you don’t have to worry about ducking for cover when you step out.”
“What about upstairs?”
“It’s probably best if you visit during the night hours. Ash leaves the curtains open during the day no matter what the weather is,” Stefan said. “But I should leave. Its Ash’s birthday and his present might get cold. Go get some sleep, Amily.”
At Amily’s silent acknowledgement, he stood up and turned to leave. But something nagged at him, and he turned around to face her.
“Is Amily your real name? Or did you just change it because it sounded cool?”
“I read this really good book series last week… there was a character named Amily in it,” she replied wistfully. “It sounds better then Emily, right?”
Stefan had nothing to say to that. He gave her a weak nod and left the apartment.
-
It was another fifteen minutes before Stefan could go home. Getting Madge’s attention to return her keys had proved more difficult then he thought, and then one of the baristas misplaced his order. He was glad when he stepped out of the portal and into the basement of his house.
Quietly going upstairs, he opened the door a crack to determine how safe it was to step out. It was dim all around despite the sun rising outside, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Either Ash was still asleep, or he was awake and left all of the curtains shut when he realized Stefan wasn’t home. Stefan exited the basement, turned a corner to go into the living room and—
Ash was awake. He was sitting on the couch with a plush throw comforter thrown across his lap, an empty bowl of what Stefan assumed to be cereal on the coffee table. He hadn’t bothered to get dressed, and his pale blonde hair was disheveled.
“I… I thought you’d still be asleep right now,” Stefan announced.
“Morning to you too,” Ash replied. He spotted what Stefan held in his hands. “Is that coffee from Madge’s place?”
“Happy one hundredth birthday, old man,” Stefan joked. It was hard to not laugh at the comical frown Ash shot him as he handed the coffee over. “I was hoping to catch you sleeping, drop the coffee off, and then go meet with my foster father...”
He sat down on the couch while Ash drank and savored the coffee.
“How important is this meeting?” Ash asked a few minutes later. He set the coffee aside and pouted at Stefan. “I mean, I know you never miss a meeting with him…”
“I think it’s more of a mundane meeting, but I’m not positive,” Stefan replied uncertainly. “For all I know, he may just want to tell me how to better spoil you on special occasions. Or keep me informed on Gisela.”
Ash immediately had a retort about Gisela formed in his mouth, but he refused to say it out loud. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt his husband’s feelings with his honest opinion on Stefan’s adopted sister. Plus, it wasn’t his place to say anything about it.
“Can you postpone the meeting until tomorrow?” he pleaded instead. “For all we know, he could just want to troll you. Which has happened.”
“I’ll never know if I don’t go!” Stefan replied, exasperated. “I mean—what are you—“
Before he had time to react, Ash yanked him forward for a kiss. While he was still registering that, Ash managed to wrestle him onto the couch and pin him there with his stupidly long legs. When Stefan attempted to sit up, Ash pushed him back down and kept a firm hand in his chest. In the chaos, the plush blanket Ash was using slipped onto the carpet below.
“What the fuck?”
“You’re not going anywhere and I’m not letting you get potentially trolled by your own father,” Ash replied. When Stefan attempted to move again, he straddled his lap more firmly. “Why don’t you contact Ewa? We both know she’s probably still awake at this hour.”
“Put some pants on first.”
“I’m not getting off until you contact her,” Ash teased.
“You did not just say that,” Stefan growled. Ash smirked at him. “Well, move a little so I can reach my phone.”
“You did not just say that,” Ash mocked.
“I’m being serious! My phone’s in my back pocket and you’ve got me pinned so thoroughly I can barely move!”
Ash eventually relented, and moved just enough so Stefan can reach for the phone. He found Ewa’s name in his long contact list and hastily pressed dial.
“Ewa?”
“No, this is Constance. What do you want, Stef?”
“Did Ewa visit our dad today?” Stefan asked. “Also, why do you have your wife’s phone?”
Above him, Ash finally got off of his lap and reached for his coffee again. Stefan hastily sat up and rested against one of the couch ends.
“Ewa’s asleep and my phone’s dead, so she let me borrow hers so I can work,” Constance answered. “I literally just got off the phone with one hell of a customer when you called.”
“That’s nice, but did Ewa visit our dad?”
His mouth opened in a silent scream as Ash casually sat down on his stretched out legs.
“Why do you want to know so badly?”
“Ash is using every trick in the book to keep me at home instead of letting me go see dad,” Stefan gasped in pain. “He’s currently gulping his coffee and sitting on my legs.” He tilted the phone away from his mouth. “Get off of me, I’m not going anywhere!”
“That’s tame, considering what he might usually do,” Constance quipped. Stefan could almost hear her roll her eyes. “Ewa only said that he said some general stuff. It’s probably not very important.”
“Great, thanks. Just what I need to hear,” Stefan said. “I’ll—Ash, please be careful, you’re gonna—“
“… I’ll leave you two alone now.”
Stefan sighed and set the phone on the coffee table as Constance hung up. Ash was still sitting on him, a wide, close-lipped smile on his face.
“Are you still going to visit your dad?” he asked sweetly. He batted his eyelashes.
“No, I’m staying,” Stefan deadpanned. He glowered up at his husband. “You do realize I have to sleep all day, right? Don’t you work today too?”
Ash finally got off of his legs and stood up. He grabbed the empty cereal bowl and coffee cup, walking into the kitchen.
“I requested today off,” he replied. His voice carried into the living room over the brief sound of running water. “And I do realize you have to sleep all day, so that’s why I haven’t bothered to get dressed. I’m going back to bed with you.”
Of course. Stefan rubbed his eyes. He didn’t even want to know what time it was at the moment.
“I hope you’re prepared to take Iris for a walk later,” he remarked.
Ash walked out of the kitchen and headed straight for the couch. He grabbed Stefan’s hand and pulled him up to get him to stand.
“I am ready for that! But come on, I recorded this new show Ewa wants us to watch,” he said excitedly. “She says it’s a really good costume drama. Just two episodes. Please?”
“… Fine. Two episodes, then I’m going to bed.”
--
Bonus
“What the hell?! They can’t end it there! How many episodes do we have left?!”
“That was the finale.”
“They can’t end it there! Mother of fuck!”
🌼 for Sefan
!!!! Thank you!
🌼 happiness headcanon: nothing makes Stefan happier than lounging at home with his husband and cat, he can and has skipped Official Vampire Business to hang out with them. His adopted parents don’t mind. Much.
Photography also make him happy; his favorite things to photograph are stars and abandoned cemeteries.
31 Days of Unedited Writing: Days thirteen-21
Mix of original fiction (3 separate universes) and fanfiction (Pokemon, Fire Emblem: Awakening). The FE:A excerpts all feature the same OC.
Fun fact: most of these samples are from 2014.
Day thirteen, Fanfiction (Pokemon, my series of Nuzlockes. I think this excerpt took place during my first Black 2 playthrough, though I tweaked the plot a bit.)
Brendan felt claustrophobic inside this cramped control room. He was sweating in his borrowed Plasma uniform as he scanned the cameras that lined the interior and exterior of the frigate they were stationed in. Celio wasn’t doing much better. His hands shook as he tapped a few buttons under the watchful, irritated gaze of Brendan’s Mandibuzz.
A low whine emanated from Celio’s right, and he absently stroked a worried Porygon-Z’s head.
“Don’t worry buddy,” he muttered. “I’ll make sure Morticia doesn’t eat you. Right, Brendan?”
Brendan snorted. “She doesn’t want to be in here, but she doesn’t want to be in her pokéball either. Can’t do anything about it. Sorry.”
Day 14, Fanfiction (Fire Emblem: Awakening)
“Inigo isn’t bothering me,” Sorcha admitted. She was grateful for the topic change. “He just wanted to make me smile, but his obvious attempts at flirting didn’t work on me. I value him more as a friend and comrade.”
“Did you accept his apology for the strawberries though?” Cordelia inquired. “He wouldn’t stop crying for hours after you had that ghastly reaction to them.”
All four women cringed, Sorcha the most.
“I did, don’t worry,” Sorcha replied. She let out a small laugh. “I didn’t know I was that badly allergic to them at the time, and he didn’t know either. It’s all water under the bridge now… although I will admit, they were the best crop I had ever seen.”
Day 15, Original Fiction (Code Name: Grisaverse)
Lukasz had been gone for a solid month and Rowena was ready to drown Davaros in his latest potion batch if he didn’t stop bleating about it.
“You told me he’d been gone for two months once without incident!” she shouted one night. “A month isn’t even that bad in comparison!”
“He hasn’t sent anything— anything! —in two weeks! No scrap of paper, no spell-bird. Something happened to him in Grisandel, and I’m leaving tomorrow at first light to go see what’s going on.”
He got up from his saggy armchair and Rowena jumped out of her loveseat to physically block him from the stairs.
“I’m not going outside!” Davaros exclaimed. “I said I’m leaving at first light!”
“He’s probably delayed by the weather!” Rowena exclaimed back. “Remember the spell-bird a few days after he left? He said a weather-witch predicted—”
A popping noise interrupted her. At her feet was a fat roll of parchment tied with black ribbon. She let Davaros pick it up and read its contents. Instead of joy, he looked like he was attempting to solve a particularly difficult logic puzzle.
“It says it’s from Luc but this… this isn’t his handwriting.” he finally said a few minutes later.
Rowena snatched the message from his hands and read it herself. She knew Lukasz couldn’t write or spell very well, but under Davaros’s nightly tutoring he was slowly improving. The notes Luc sent while traveling was very short, written in halting sentences and misspelled town names. The message that had just arrived was… not that. Whoever wrote it had clearly been taught to read and write from a very young age and used words that Lukasz likely hadn’t encountered in his lessons yet.
Day 16, Fanfiction (Pokemon, same series as the first excerpt but set during the Sevii Islands post-game quest)
“I watched your battles against the Elite Four when they were airing on TV,” Celio quipped in an attempt to start up another conversation about five minutes later. “You were really great out there.”
“…Thanks,” she replied a few minutes later in a subdued voice. “I can’t assume my Champion position though, not yet.”
“Why not?”
“I have to have six pokémon. I lost Elen during the battle with Agatha… and I’ve come here to get a new party member,” she replied. She rested her chin on the back of Dylan’s head, a forlorn expression on her face. “Can we not talk about this?”
“Sorry for bringing it up,” Celio said sincerely. Leaf’s mouth curved into a strange half smile, half frown, and said nothing in return for the rest of the way.
Day 17, Fanfiction (Fire Emblem: Awakening. Set during the first Future Past DLC)
He didn’t get a chance to finish as Sorcha yanked him toward her, just as the sickly green sheen of the Mire spell bubbled and disappeared where he’d been standing before.
“I have to talk to him,” Sorcha whispered against his chest. “If our Morgan and this Morgan are the same, he might recognize me.”
“And if he doesn’t recognize you? What if he cuts you down just like he’s trying to do to the girls in the cells?”
Sorcha looked up at him a few moments later, and she bitterly cursed the look of utter calm on his face in her head. He was right, there was a valid chance that this Morgan wouldn’t recognize her. Her emotions were clouding her judgment and already frayed nerves. She made herself take a deep breath, but she couldn’t help but jump when someone—the Cynthia in her cell, probably—screamed and someone else shouted warnings about yet another wave of Risen.
“I’m going to talk to him anyway,” she said firmly. She glanced at him with a new look of resolve. “I know you don’t want me to, but someone has to end this and I’m not going to let anyone decide for me.”
Day 18, Fanfiction (Fire Emblem: Awakening)
She saw him look out upon the field of battle, and for a moment she dared to lock eyes with him—
—and then her knees buckled, unable to suppress a groan as her head suddenly began throbbing with intense pain. Her vision wavered as she fell to the ground with a cry and held her head, gasping and choking on the smoke and heat.
The longest few seconds of her life passed, and she felt the headache subside slightly. There was a familiar relief as she felt magic restore her strength, but it wasn't enough to take all of the pain away. She felt sick to her stomach now.
"Sorcha."
She looked sideways. Lissa was gone and Libra was by her side. His priest robes were spattered with blood and smoke residue, his axe hanging from his belt. His long blonde hair stuck to his sweaty face.
"I'm fine—I can still fight—"
"You're not in condition to fight," Libra interrupted sternly. "You need to see a healer at once. There's only so much I can do out here."
Day 19, Original Fiction, code name Zombies and Mutants (one of the OLDEST excerpts I have for my ocs Stefan and Ash)
Ash pounded down the staircase, breathing heavily as he scrambled to stop and grip the handrail. His eyes burned from the exposure to light, of taking in every small detail the world had to offer, plus the bright sunlight, and magnifying it by a hundredfold. Forcing himself to sit down on a random stair, he pushed his sunglasses up as he covered his eyes.
The temporary darkness helped ease the burning, if only by a little bit. A tiny sliver of dim light escaped through a space between his two fingers. Taking a deep breath and then exhaling slowly, he removed his hands and readjusted his sunglasses.
Footsteps descended toward him. It was easy to identify them; this certain noise belonged to the commander of those patrolling the outside. A wave of nausea hit him as he stood up and turned around, but he refused to let his heaving stomach win. Not this time.
“You dropped this,” Axel muttered. Ash looked up and saw his rifle in the other man’s hands. He walked up a step, but Axel stepped back two stairs and held the rifle close to him.
“Are you afraid I’m going to take it and shoot everyone?” Ash asked.
Day 20. Original Fiction, code name Crown Quartet, code name Ghost’s Crown
“Where are we going to be fake lovebirds this time?” Ariyos asked as Annika grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the archives. “We’ve pretended to woo each other in the gardens, the throne room...”
“The arena!” Annika exclaimed happily. She slowed her walking and put her hand into the crook of Ariyos’s elbow as they exited the library. “The twin generals are doing drills with their troops. I’m hoping I see the musician my sister was gossiping about last week.”
“What musician?”
“He was part of a troupe father hired for Eba’s birthday celebrations last year, but he was left behind when the troupe returned to Veltan. Eba snatched him up and made him her personal musician,” Annika explained. Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “She recently told me he started getting anonymous love letters, and she’s been translating them for him. You’re not going to believe who’s the author.”
“Who?” Ariyos asked, equally quietly.
“One of the generals we’ll be watching.”
Day 21, Original Fiction, code name Crown Quartet, code name Gryphon’s Crown
Ninety-five. Ninety-six. Ninety-seven. Amaranth’s legs burned.
“Um.”
“Yes, Kilain?” she replied.
“You know what your mother said about using your brother while exercising.”
“Thank you!” Caius squawked from his position slung across his sister’s shoulders. “Put me down, Amaranth!”