#vampiretales

Shattered Glamour

by Marquis De Shadé

Chapter 1: The Throne of Eyes

New York was a festering beast, its streets slick with rain and rot. Ezra Kane ruled its shadows—a self-crowned monarch of the digital abyss. Their camera was a scepter; their Instagram, a cathedral. Millions worshiped at the altar of curated chaos—freaks, finery, and flashes of the forbidden.

Ezra had clawed to the top by capturing the city’s beautiful rejects, the grotesque, the unknowable. But the true thrill lived off-camera—in the kills. The ones who resisted their lens. Tonight, the followers were restless: “Give us something epic, Ezra!” They demanded spectacle. Ezra would deliver blood.

The Lower East Side breathed grime and neon. Ezra stalked it like a tiger, camera slung low, eyes wild. Then—they saw her.

She emerged from an alley’s throat: a vision in a tattered emerald coat, silver threads glinting like spiderwebs. Her hair, white as frost, coiled like a crown. Her face was carved from memory and myth—sixty, perhaps more, but luminous with something older than time.

“Fuck me,” Ezra whispered, strutting forward. “You’re a goddamn relic I’m about to make immortal. I’m shooting you—my sheep need this.” Their grin was all teeth.

She turned. Hazel eyes sliced through the gloom. “A relic, am I?” Her voice was velvet and rust, her accent antique and untraceable. She posed, coat flaring like wings, and Ezra’s camera devoured her—click after hungry click.

“Ezra Kane,” they said, circling her. “You’re my next project. Take me home. My followers are starving.”

---Well, this was damn unfortunate. Not that he paid any mind to most people, or acknowledged them in general. Hell, he didn’t even need to shower on a technicality, it had only been to scrub off the dirt and dust accumulated over a day’s hectic mess in the middle of one of Ferid’s ridiculous mansions. However, he wasn’t expecting company.

Especially company he didn’t recognize ( and was probably paler than him to boot, which was impressive on it’s own ).

Hands precariously went for the hilt that didn’t exist, pressing against the cotton of his towel. Oh shit.

Suddenly, he felt like he was in one of those stupid horror movies where the air-headed character gets murdered in the shower. Of course, no one was around because Mikaela had specifically chosen to wash himself when no one else needed him immediately. 

Sure, he’d still try being intimidating, which was hard to do when one’s dignity was preserved only by a towel. Maybe his fit form would help, for once. 

𝐙𝐄𝐑𝐎 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒,  already  sensing  an  incoming  headache.    ❝   alright,  alright,  that’s  enough    ────    step  back  everyone.   ❞    outstretching  a  single  arm  to  the  side,  the  prefect  attempts  to   ‘ safe  guard ’   the  new  guests  from  a  sea  of  predatory  fangirls....   as  if  the  night  class  itself  wasn’t  bad  enough.    ❝   KYAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  ❞    oh,  may  god  have  mercy  on  all  of  them  once  the  little  greeting  is  finally  over.

/ @vampire-tales

       One would think that they’d be accustomed to the attention but Kaoru was struggling to deal with it for once. The girls at their school never behaved in such a manner even if they were fans of them. The same applied to their little fanclubs. They had a guess as to why things were so different. The students at their school were friends and future business partners, so they knew how to behave around them. While they shrieked and shouted their names from time to time, it was never to a point that the younger twin felt uncomfortable ( or unsafe ). In the current moment, they didn’t know how to feel. 

       But, they smiled and waved. They said their hellos. They gave the girls attention because that’s what they were trained to do. To be kind, to be charming, to be a proper Host. Still, their social battery was running low and when they had a chance to escape, they hid among their friends and moved closer to their guide. If someone asked for them, they simply pushed their twin brother to talk to the person instead. 

8. My muse is surrounded by thugs up to no good and yours happens upon this.

"H-Hey, now. How about we not do this today? I can safely say I don't--" Soma would be cut off as one of the guys decks him, grabbing him by the collar before he can fall back.

Goddammit! He'd groan in pain, one hand reaching for the knife he was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to have. Before he could take any further action, he was suddenly released as the other guy was shoved away from him.

Oh. Soma would blink. He recognized him, that was that one guy from class. The one that he currently did not remember the name of, but in all fairness he didn't remember any of his classmates names yet. "I didn't start this." He'd blurt out, as though it wasn't already obvious that he wouldn't start a fight with 4 other guys just for the hell of it. Still, he didn't exactly want this making it back to Julius or Arikado especially. First week at school and he was already breaking Arikados 'don't get into trouble' rule, he'd be absolutely thrilled at that news (not).