Cristina Calero @tobebittenlikeahavensdale - Tumblr Blog

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Cristina Calero felt a rush of excitement coursing through her veins, but it was tempered by the weight of unease settling in her stomach. The dome, an imposing metal prison encasing the city, had turned its inhabitants into little more than rats in a gilded cage—trapped, desperate, and entirely at the mercy of those who wielded power. The so-called villains, or “baddies” as the others called them, had taken control. Cristina was one of them now, a far cry from the woman she once imagined herself to be: someone who dreamed of simple pleasures like baking cookies and stealing kisses from girls she adored.

That version of Cristina felt like a distant memory. Now, she was infamous—a serial killer, a vampire, a societal outcast. And yet, what might have once filled her with shame or regret instead brought her a cold, detached sense of purpose. She reveled in the game, calculating her next move with ruthless precision.

Her mind wandered to curfew breakers, the defiant fools risking everything for some ill-conceived sense of altruism. Their actions disgusted her. Risk their lives for others? How tragically naive, she thought with a curl of her lip. As far as she was concerned, they were little more than walking sacrifices, ready to meet their fate at the sharp edge of her fangs.

For Cristina, the rules of survival were simple: adapt, dominate, or perish. And she had no intention of perishing.

#c: Cristina Calero #t: starter001 #hihstarter #with the baddies

christopherbites

"Now there's a sensible choice," Chris mused although entirely disappointing. He would have liked to see her in action. A true apex predator. There would be plenty of opportunity yet, he was sure. The more time went on, the more restless the regular Joes of Havensdale became. Chris didn't blame them. If he had to suffer through every unbearable second - human - he would do something stupid too. Ideally, break curfew.

Relaxing his shoulders, he leaned against the wall, looking over to Cristina. She seemed resolved to playing by the rules for now. The lingering power of Engel, Edward and Frederick was enough to keep most in line. Humanity or no humanity, you could respect power like that.

"Still, it would have been fun. I haven't had a good chase in ages. I can never decide if it's better to let them think they have a chance and give them a head start or not. What do you think, in your expert opinion?"

tobebittenlikeahavensdale

"There's a certain… thrill in allowing them a degree of freedom, wouldn't you agree?" Cristina stated, a subtle smirk playing at the corners of her lips. She paused, her gaze momentarily drifting towards the unseen, before continuing, "It provides that crucial element of anticipation, that invigorating rush when the final act is initiated." A hint of wistfulness coloured her tone as she uttered the last phrase. A complex tapestry of emotions warred within her, an undercurrent of discontent subtly betraying her carefully constructed façade. The monotonous predictability of her current existence, a life devoid of the visceral engagement she craved, had begun to grate on her nerves. The allure of the familiar – the cold, efficient dance of her blades, the brutal symphony of a broken heart – resonated with a primal part of her that yearned for release.

"My favorite part is yanking out their hearts so for a split second they can see me eat it-"

#chris #cristina #gore tw #murder tw

oh-roxy

Roxy was still a hater when it came to this dome shit but she made do. It was worth it to be in the presence, to learn from, a legend like Engel. If he said it was for a greater purpose then who was she to question it? Still. You really had to make your own fun. She hadn't done too bad over the last 3 years but being exceptional always came naturally to her.

A grin spread on Roxy's face when she spotted Cristina Calero. The day was looking up. "Well, well... If it isn't my favourite vampire. You staying out of trouble today?"

tobebittenlikeahavensdale

Cristina smiled, a sly, knowing grin that could disarm even the wariest of souls. It was almost effortless, the way she could slip into someone’s good graces. It had always been like that, even before her transformation—before her fangs, her insatiable hunger, and her trail of bodies. Becoming someone’s favorite person was a skill she’d perfected, a game she played with ease. She was still as charming as ever. Of course, that charm was a double-edged sword, and the edge was as sharp as her smile was sweet.

When her gaze landed on Roxy, Cristina couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

“I always am a good girl,” Cristina said, her tone dripping with playful innocence, the kind that only made her words more unsettling. Her voice was soft, honeyed, and laced with a hint of mockery as she clasped her hands behind her back.

Unseen, her fingers crossed, the gesture as juvenile as a schoolgirl fibbing to her teacher. It was a deliberate act.

The room felt charged, the space between them alive with an unspoken tension. Cristina’s smile widened ever so slightly, her expression equal parts inviting and dangerous. It was always like this—drawing people in, spinning the web, and savoring the moment they realized they were caught.

And yet, she wasn’t in a rush. This part, the delicate build of trust and suspicion, was too delicious to rush through. After all, Cristina Montgomery had perfected the art of being a “good girl”—just not the kind anyone could truly trust.

#c: cristina #c: roxy #t: thread002

christopherbites

Chris was endlessly amused even when she was mocking him. Funny thing was, he'd really mean it. It was a beautiful day. This new Havensdale made it easier than ever for him to soothe his boredom, a side effect of the emptiness his lack of humanity brought. Cristina Calero was so interesting to him. A history bloodier than most. In truth, he was a fan.

"Oh, you know I agree," he grinned back, flashing fangs. "Daddy wouldn't be very happy about it though-," meaning Edward, of course- "Hunting before curfew and all. It is against the rules." Chris had always taken them with a pinch of salt, mind you. A slap on the wrist from his pseudo-father was worth it for a little fun.

"Saying that..." he started, tapping his ear lobe for her to listen... A couple, maybe? Out in the Valley woods. Human. "I won't tell if you won't?"

tobebittenlikeahavensdale

Cristina smirked, the corner of her lips curling into a knowing grin as she nodded. Of course, he’d agree with her. It wasn’t like his dearest daddy ever would. Rules—ugh, who actually liked them? Certainly not her. Rules were for people too dull or too scared to make their own. But Cristina had learned the art of playing nice when it suited her. That lesson had been drilled into her long before she ever tasted freedom, back when her own father wielded authority like a weapon—sometimes quite literally.

She ran her fingers absentmindedly over her arm, as if tracing the ghost of an old bruise, and her smirk grew darker. Perhaps her father had taught her to behave, in his twisted way, with his lectures and the sting of his belt. But he’d never considered how a caged dog might turn rabid. May he rest in pieces. The memory brought a flicker of satisfaction to her amber eyes.

After all, Daddy dearest had been her very first kill, the baptism of blood that set her on the path she walked now. There had been no suspicion, no investigations, no accusations—not for her. She was dead, after all, buried in name if not in body. And who in their right mind would accuse the dead of murder? If anything, they’d think someone was trying to frame her memory, tarnish the pristine tragedy of her fabricated demise. It was almost poetic, really, how she’d slipped so cleanly out of one life and into another.

“Nah, I’ll manage,” she said, brushing off the offer with a sigh. She stretched her arms lazily, but her sharp gaze betrayed the wheels turning in her mind. The last thing she wanted was to end up on Engel’s bad side—again. That wasn’t a line she could afford to cross tonight. The curfew wasn’t over yet, and she didn’t plan on tempting fate.

But then again...humans had accidents all the time, didn’t they? They wandered too far, stumbled into the wrong alleyways, and found themselves at the mercy of fate—or something far hungrier. And if she just happened to stumble upon a freshly expired corpse, warm and bleeding out, was that really her fault? Could Engel truly blame her for taking advantage of such a fortuitous find?

Her smirk returned, sharper now, with the glint of fangs just barely visible. No, she wouldn’t be the one to break curfew. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t savor the opportunity if it presented itself. After all, Cristina had never been one to let good fortune go to waste.

#c: cristina calero #c: christopher Andrews #t: thread001

christopherbites

"Beautiful day, isn't it?

@havensdalestarters

tobebittenlikeahavensdale

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” Christopher remarked, his tone light, almost teasing, as he glanced at the ominous iron sky above them. The oppressive weight of the dome didn’t seem to bother him; his casual demeanor was either an act of defiance or sheer recklessness.

Cristina turned her gaze toward him, her amber eyes glinting like molten gold in the dim light. Slowly, her lips curled back, revealing the sharp edges of her fangs in a grin that was equal parts charm and menace. She let the silence stretch.

“Ah yes,” she drawled, her voice velvet-smooth, laced with an undertone of mockery. “A splendid day, indeed. Though…” She tilted her head, her grin widening to something far more wicked, “it might be perfect if there was more to hunt than a deer or two. Don’t you agree?”

Her words lingered in the air, carrying a promise as sharp as her fangs. It had been far too long since she’d tasted human blood, and the memory of it haunted her like a phantom, whispering to her in the dark. The pulse of it, the warmth, the heady rush—it was intoxicating, addicting.

Her fingers flexed at her sides, and she could feel her blood simmering beneath her skin, a primal hunger clawing its way to the surface. The forest around them felt alive with possibilities, but none of them were enough to quench her thirst. Deer and rabbits, though sufficient for survival, were a poor substitute for the thrill of the hunt—the true hunt.

Cristina’s grin didn’t falter, but her eyes darkened, their glow fading into something colder, more calculating. She didn’t reply, but the silence between them was louder than any words.

#c: cristina calero #c: chris andrews #s: vamp siblings

huntedinhavensdale-rpg

Name: Cristina Calero Pronouns: She/Her Age: 23 (87) years old Hometown: TBD Species: Vampire Affiliation: Evil - Unaffiliated FC: Daniela Nieves

Bio ➜

❝DANCING IN THE DARK AND I SHINE, LIKE A LIGHT I’M LURING YOU IN AND THEN I WHISPER, AM I WHAT YOUR HEART DESIRES?❞

Cristina Calero learned from a young age that everything was about control. You had to control your impulses, think before you speak and act. Be polite, be sweet and never act on your impulses. Cristina worked very hard not to act on her worst thoughts and suppress her anger. Manipulative to a point of brilliance, Cristina fooled most people. Lying came easily to her, she was observant and learned quickly how to play the part of whoever she needed to be. The terrifying truth was that even when she was human, Cristina was capable of causing pain. Naturally, her parents were in denial. Even after the ‘incident’ in high school, they still wouldn’t believe their angel was capable of hurting a fly.

Plus, they had the resources to sweep most of the rumours under the rug. By then, Cristina had moved on. She’d left behind her sad, small, town and was looking for bigger and better. Any nastiness in her past had been left there. Cristina was ready to start anew! Then the accident happened. Maybe it was karma but Cristina thought that she’d breathed her last. Until she opened her eyes again and oh, were her eyes opened. Cristina hadn’t known that it was Charlie Emerson who’d seen her potential and saved her from a mundane, human, death. He didn’t stick around, keeping his identity hidden and watched from the shadows as Cristina became a truly magnificent vampire. A real killer.

She reveled in being a vampire. Finally, she indulged her impulses, overindulging in everything she could get her hands on. Heads rolled and the blood never stopped flowing. While Cristina was having the time of her life, eternity alone did play on her mind. That’s when saw him, William Rebelo, under the club’s lights in the 1970s. Normally, Cristina killed whoever she fed on but in a split second, she decided to run him instead. She could have taught him everything, they could have been a team. Before Cristina had a chance, she’d been staked. The fools missed her heart but they also snapped her neck, leaving her out cold. When she woke up, Will was nowhere to be found. Since the dome came down, she’s cursed the fact that Will ended up in Havensdale but she’s not giving up on them yet.

Additional Information ➜

It didn’t take long for Cristina to find out that William had found someone else to guide him, the way that she should have. Piper Renderos and her clan had taken Will in which was great, sure. But she’s back now. Of course, these things are never that easy. Being stuck in Havensdale with Piper isn’t ideal but time heals all wounds, right?

Welcomed by the ‘Revolution’, Cristina met the famous Ancient Vampires who had caused more choas and destruction than she could ever imagine. Amara Zhang took a particular interest in her and well, Cristina isn’t complaining.

While Cristina doesn’t know that Charlie turned her, they did meet years after she was turned. They had a hell of a time together, leaving a laundry list of victims in their wake but he never confessed. Now, she wonders where he is most of the time. After all, where is there to hide now in Havensdale?

She knows there’s an underground Resistance and is uninterested for the most part. Although, she hasn’t forgotten the group of amateurs who staked her back in the 1970s. She took care of most of them but their ringleader, an older hunter by the name of ‘Argent’, got away. Dean Argent might be his grandson but that’s close enough.

#bio: Cristina calero