#whimsicfangs

i’ll try my hand at writing as them ✍️ + stack from sinners —— @whimsicfangs

he  was  a  consummate  businessman.  if  only  his  sole  worry  was  keeping  up  with  the  change  of  the  times.  stack  had  to  shuffle  his  ventures  around  the  country  every  decade  to  dodge  suspicious  eyes.  a  black  man  making  good  by  his  own  means  was  a  hard  enough  pill  to  swallow,  but  the  devil  ended  up  in  the  details  when  the  man  seemed  immune  to  old  age.  by  the  nineteen-eighties,  stack  got  so  well-versed  in  faking  early  retirement,  shutting  down  business,  and  vanishing  overnight  that  it  was  as  natural  to  him  as  brushing  his  teeth  or  brewing  a  pot  of  strong  coffee.  he'd  heard  tell  of  a  coastal  town  out  west  where  the  strong  arm  of  the  law  was  indiscernibly  absent.  with  an  historic  boardwalk  being  a  guaranteed  tourist  draw,  stack  didn't  need  to  know  much  more  before  he  set  his  sights  on  santa  clara  as  his  next  station.  his  first  challenge  was  buying—not  renting—a  space  to  open  shop.  the  owner  was  hesitate,  siting  it  wasn't  common  to  give  up  a  deed  to  beachfront  property,  but  stack  smooth  talked  his  way  into  a  deal  that  if  his  business  failed  in  under  six  months,  he'd  sell  it  back  to  the  owner  for  half  of  what  stack  paid  him  up  front. 

papers  signed  and  hands  shook,  stack  rolled  up  the  security  gate  to  his  store  the  next  night  to  the  boardwalk  lit  across  the  horizon  behind  him.  twirling  a  toothpick  at  one  side  of  his  mouth,  he  paused  long  enough  to  admire  the  view.  bodies  were  milling  around  the  sidewalks.  on  their  way  to  the  beach  for  bonfires,  night  swimming,  or  heading  down  to  the  tantalizing  fanfare  of  the  boardwalk  and  all  its  delights.  stack  watched  his  future  clientele  with  a  glint  in  his  oddly  colored  eyes.  past  them,  the  waves  crashed  against  the  cliffs  and  further  down  rolled  along  the  shore  as  if  reaching  for  the  same  life  stack  admired.  “  i  never  seen  the  ocean  before.  not  like  this.  ”  his  human  memories  were  hazy,  but  he  was  sure  he  didn't  look  out  over  the  boat  when  he  and  smoke  served.  too  queasy  from  nerves  and  the  motion  of  the  ship  carrying  them  to  the  battlefield.  the  pictures  in  his  mind  switched  quick  as  a  lightning  strike  to  brother  fighting  brother  in  a  burning  juke  joint.  back  in  the  present,  stack  cracked  his  toothpick  in  two  between  his  teeth.  taking  the  pieces  from  his  lips,  he  tossed  them  away. 

michael hears her before he feels her, his head turning ever so slightly to acknowledge star-- a small, tired smile appearing on his lips before his eyes return to his view. watching the last traces of daylight fade into the horizon as the sun sets from the opening in the otherwise dim lair that he's been hiding in lately. it's strange, how exhausted sunlight makes him... but becoming a half-vampire does that to you.

soft thorns, vol 1 / @whimsicfangs

i'm so sorry, she wants to say. my comfort for your loss, she wants to say. everyone should remember that, she wants to say, but she doesn't. instead, she nods. offers to hug star. hugs never made anything worse, after all.

"if you're not a hugging kind of person, i also have a blood-pop on my person. yes, it's a blood flavored lollypop. i get peckish a lot. i need a little more to tide me over until the next blood bag, you know?"

it's a long story.

" you  have  to  let  them  dry !  "  ariel  calls  after  dwayne  whose  freshly  painted  nails  were  definitely  not  dry——-  he'll  complain  later  about  a  smudged  ring  finger,  she'll  get  to  say  i  told  you  so.  she  twists  the  cap  of  a  black  nail  polish  bottle  tightly  closed  before  tossing  it  into  a  small  box  full  of  the  different  shades  collected  over  the  years.  a  nearby  floorboard  is  lifted  to  deposit  her  stash  but  she  stops  upon  seeing  star,  " oh  hiya,  girlie  girl  "  green  eyes  brighten  as  the  box  settles  into  her  lap,  " you  want  me  to  do  your  nails  for  you ?  i  have  a  lot  of  colors  besides  black.  i  found  some  with  glitter  in  'em  a  little  while  ago,  too !  "

@whimsicfangs » ''am i gonna be safe with you?''

Mars understood not having a safe place, feeling the need to be on guard everywhere. When that was the case, you had to have safe people. Someone that let you drop the guard, be yourself, and feel comfortable. That was a void he was probably too willing to fill. “Yeah. Always.”

“And me? Am I safe with you?”

She's not really his type. She's a waif, a slender thing in a Stevie Nicks costume, turned too young, not really a woman in the way he likes. Fuller figure, he'd said once and perhaps it's true - he likes hips and thighs and breasts all well developed. But she's not unattractive, either. If you're into that kind of thing. And Lestat doesn't even need to be into it to fall into bed with her, because sex is just sex and it doesn't matter, at least not to him, not with her, not with any little vampireling he might have come across in his travels.

And he's kind to her, gentle. Well, gentle enough. She tells him what she likes and he obliges and for a little while he can pretend he's not miserable, as he sinks into her, and the connect in that way that should be intimate but isn't. Not for him, anyway. She's something to do on a Friday night, but he is in a mood. He doesn't blood share with just anyone and he's certainly not offering up his own for her. She doesn't ask. Reading her mind makes this encounter child's play. His is closed off as ever.

He wouldn't let her poke about. He's giving her what she wants, what she needs - surely being surrounded by eternal teenage boys is unsatisfying. He's a man, and she might have been a woman if it hadn't been stolen from her. He's not selfish, not in lovemaking, and she seems to be enjoying herself. He considers finishing her off and calling it a night, but he is struck with a certain hunger. He hasn't eaten recently and she's right there, pretty and available.

And then his fangs are in her neck as she trembles, and he knows the pleasure she's feeling, because he's felt it himself. He drinks, but not enough to hurt her, and when she reaches her pleasure, he follows soon after. Always the gentleman.

    Larissa lets her go at once. The grab wasn't even very hard--barely enough to turn Star around again--but it was enough, enough to unsettle her, to have Larissa turning away from her in disgust, looking down at her hands, which have never seemed more like claws than when they reached for her.

    When she's regained some control--face calm, voice level--she says, her back to Star, "I'm sorry. That was--I don't mean to be hard on you. It isn't safe for you to travel just now. There is another family moving through the area." A vampire family, one with several members; she detected them nearby the previous night.

it just makes me lonelier. // david // @whimsicfangs

loneliness was like a disease in david's mind— the kind he couldn't seem to escape from. vampirism, immortality, it was meant to be the cure. and for every way it was, every way it had been for david, there was still this chasm within his soul that nothing could seem to fill. and boy had he tried. every action, everything he did, was in an attempt to fill that void. and every time, he told himself, believed in what he would tell himself—

that maybe this time it would finally be right. maybe this time he'd finally figured it out.

so there is an uncomfortable kind of weight to star's words, to how they land in his chest, and david thinks he's maybe doing a pretty shitty job of hiding it for once.

( are the scars of his past as visible to her as they feel in this moment? )

he fidgets, rolling the lighter he's pretty sure he stole off paul, shifting it in his hand and focusing on anything but the look in star's eyes before he finally sighs and straightens up. a visible shifting, as if it's the persona, the performance slipping back into place. charming pull up smile that flashes teeth and a brow raise as he looks to her.