WHEN HE TAKES HER HAND, Nadja Expects To Feel Teeth Sink Into Her Wrist. For What Could Be More Important

     WHEN HE TAKES HER HAND, nadja expects to feel teeth sink into her wrist. for what could be more important to a newborn vampire than their thirst for fresh blood? she remembers that, too : the way that her throat had seemed dry to the point of pain only a few hours after her change had finished, & the way that water had only made her ill all over again. he must be hungry. but instead, he only kisses the back of her hand, the image of a perfect english gentleman even as he rises from his deathbed & steps into immortality.

                      the tender gesture is enough to surprise nadja into temporary silence. & he seems to take advantage of her shock to cling to her hand a little longer. yet though their fingers remain entwined, his bright eyes drift out of focus, as if he is distracted by something, or deep in thought. but when he poses his question, it makes nadja laugh, the outburst reminding her where her voice is.

     ❝ cure you? don't be ridiculous, laszlo. i didn't cure you, i killed you, ❞ she clarifies, her tone unapologetic. ❝ perhaps i should apologize. i didn't mean to kill you. really, i didn’t — it's just that i saw you through your window & you were so handsome. & then when you let me in, & i suppose it's possible that i got a little carried away in our lovemaking. your fragile throat simply couldn't handle my passion, my sweet. ❞ & now it is nadja's turn to shrug. as if it's her fault that mortal men were so lovely & yet so easily broken.

             ❝ but i wasn't ready to let you go, so i made you swallow some of my blood as you lie dying. & now you're a vampire. ❞ & then she grins widely, her red lips pulling back to reveal a pair of long, needle-sharp fangs. ❝ like me. ❞

     SHE WAS LIKE A LIONESS encroaching on her prey, moving faster than he would have imagined possible. Common sense would dictate that he should be afraid. But how could he be? The past few days were a blur of pain and fever of which he thought he might not survive. Yet through that muddled haze, he had felt her presence. She, a stranger who owed him nothing, had watched over him like a guardian angel. For the first time since childhood, he had felt safe. 

     Perhaps it was merely a side-effect of his prolonged sickness, but he found himself acutely aware of his surroundings. Lights seemed ablaze and the sounds of the occasional carriage rolling down the cobblestone path below his apartment were thunderous. But her touch, by mighty her touch, was more poignant than anything he had felt before. Despite having been indoors for quite some time her fingers were cold- though he did not find this unpleasant. He shifted his weight onto his knees so they met eye to eye and gently grasped the fingers pressed against his neck. “ Leslie. Leslie Cravensworth, ” with that he pressed a kiss onto the back of her hand.

     The faint smell of blood on her hand left him with the overwhelming urge to suck on her fingers if only to have a chance at a glancing taste. He pulled back, brows knitted together as he struggled to put the pieces of this strange puzzle together. This was all quite peculiar. Leslie was well-read on the latest medical literature however when considering all his symptoms from the past few days to present no ailment sprung to mind. What’s more, he had gone from being deathly ill to feeling as if he had been reborn. Did the maiden before him have anything to do with this? Leslie was not one to believe supernatural babble, but could this truly be a coincidence? It was impossible to say. His memories of their night together were patchy. “ I’m terribly sorry, my darling, but I don’t seem to recall much of anything. Last I remember you had me on the verge of climax and then- ” he gave a shrug. “ Not a damn thing after that. What was it that you did to cure me. ”

some Random Things about tommy :

he is the oldest of four siblings — three younger brothers & a baby sister. as a result, his house is incredibly loud & rambunctious, but very full of love.

part of his bully behavior is to scare other kids in hawkins away from talking shit about his family background. as recent immigrants from central america to a mostly white midwestern town, tommy's parents face their share of prejudice. though his actions are wrong & misguided, tommy acts the way that he does in hopes of protecting his younger siblings from ignorant comments at school.

his parents are both predominantly spanish-speaking ( though his mother knows more english than his father ). the kids speak both spanish & english at home.

tommy's parents enrolled him in multiple sports as a child for three reasons: in an attempt to get him socialized with other american kids. to give him ample opportunity to learn & practice english. & to try to tire him out.

in addition to basketball, baseball, & football, tommy also loves wrestling.

he is a tagger. one of his favorite ways to kill time in hawkins is tagging public property. he will spray paint doodles, write random phrases, & practice his graffiti fonts on billboards, train cars, highway signs, & abandoned buildings. it is also him who repeatedly defaces the ' welcome to hawkins ' sign.

he doodles. the margins of his homework are always covered in weird little cartoon characters. if art wasn't a ' nerdy ' hobby, he would lean into it more.

as a bully & a jock, tommy is practically required to hate eddie & the rest of the hellfire club. he bullies them often & aggressively. which is a shame because he & eddie are actually a lot more alike than either of them may think, & could maybe even get along if tommy wasn't such a douchebag.

tommy eventually channels his hidden artistic talents & lack of desire to work a 'regular' career into learning tattooing. carol helps save up to get his first gun, & when they move out of hawkins, he opens up his own tattoo shop.

But Blackbeard did say he credited you... with a lot of his skills. Yeah, well, Blackbeard says a lot of things. But what did he say about me specifically? Well, specifically, he said you taught him everything he knows. Made him the Captain he is today.

     THERE’S A DELAY, but it only lasts a breath. then a hand is closing around his, strong & determined, the pirate pulling himself to his feet. yet no sooner does he straighten than he stumbles again, his injured leg evidently unable to hold him. izzy is quick to slip himself beneath his arm, taking on some of the weight from his weakened side. ❝ it's up the stairs or under the hull, so up you go. ❞ he half-carries the taller man as they hobble together first up the narrow stairs & then across the empty deck. it's slow-going, but they don't stop even for a moment. when they reach the waiting rowboat, there is a brief breathless laugh at his side. & izzy thinks to himself that enduring a lashing would be well worth it for the chance to hear that sound again.

                    ❝ i told you, didn't i ? ❞ he responds softly, smiling in spite of himself. ❝ come on, get in. ❞ at his bidding, the man slips out of his arms to pull himself over the railing & into the dinghy. izzy misses the touch immediately. but there’s no time to mourn its absence — if they are caught now, it will all have been for nothing. ❝ row east, into the sunrise. the current is with you, & so is the wind. we shouldn't be able to easily follow you. ❞ his voice is little more than a breath, his hands moving fast to unfasten the tie-offs & prepare the rowboat to be lowered into the inky tide below. ❝ there's rations & water enough for five days, but you should reach land well before that if you keep your heading. ❞ the main knot falls open, but izzy holds it taut to allow himself one last look at edward teach. he truly is beautiful, almost unbearably so. the sky above is scattered with stars, & his wide dark eyes seem to reflect them all as the two men look at each other. they are from entirely different worlds, izzy knows, one clad in a pirate's leathers & the other in a royal navy uniform. but for a moment it seems their hearts beat in tandem, matching the steady rhythm of the waves. then izzy clears his throat & the moment passes, the final rope ready to release. ❝ you have to go. now. ❞

try as he might to make sense of the situation,   edward can do nothing but watch the man as he approaches,  slowly,  with no sneer or taunt on his lips.  his head spins,  sight faltering again and for a moment,  all he can see is the awful blue of his coat,  his words entirely forgotten   (   on my mother   ).  for a moment that stretches on forever,  he is surrounded and helpless again,  at the doubtlessly nonexistent mercy of the navy,  not for people like him anyway.  but then again,  even if they were to offer him a way out from certain execution in the form of service to them,  he'd only spit it back in their faces.  he finally shifts his stare to look up at the man's face,  realizing with some delay that he is talking,  in the middle of some long speech that edward only catches in fragments.  he's got the relevant bits,  and they make enough sense with the offered hand,  but he can't help looking at the officer like he has suddenly grown a siren's tail.

'  what the fuck,  man.  '   it has to be a quick decision,  he knows that,  there's no time for hesitation.  his only other option is doomed from the start  —  he can do jack shit on his own,  not with the state of his leg,  even if he were to incapacitate him somehow and steal his sword.  he'd still make a stupid,  insane,  bound to fail effort,  however.  you can trust me.  he grabs the hand,  of course he does.  he tries to kid himself,  half heartedly thinking that what comes next won't be so bad,  but getting on his feet,  putting even the slightest amount of weight on his bad leg is agonizing.  face blanched,  he almost passes out cold,  a black cloud obscuring his sight for a heart beat.  he doesn't remember deciding to do it,  yet lets the solid body near him hold him up with no resistance.   '  up the stairs,  huh?  gonna be fun.  '   he tries for humor,  even through teeth clenched so tight they start to hurt.  and up the stairs they do go indeed,  even though edward feels so sick he thinks he might loose it any moment, clutching that blasted coat with near to numb fingers.  when edward finally catches sight of the rowboat,  waiting for them just like the man said,  he feels like deliriously laughing.  he gasps out a startled half chuckle,  instead.   '  you really weren't kidding.  fuckin' lunatic.  '

with the new season & also a few new of.md followers here i just want to gently remind everyone that i write izzy as a trans man. & no, he's not necessarily "out," so unless we talk about it ooc your muse would have no way of knowing this. so it shouldn't affect most threads, but it does factor into my portrayal in some small ways.

     IT’S BEEN NEARLY THREE YEARS, but izzy still comes out to this beach almost every day around sunset. he’s long since lost hope of billy coming back here ( his darkest instincts have been reminding him that he might be dead since the sixth month without him ). so izzy tells himself that it’s not about him — it’s just that this is the only place he feels really relaxed. so he's not expecting it when he sees a familiar halo of blonde curls backlit by the sun, catches sight of a form he’d memorized years ago. & he's like a moth pulled into the light, finds himself walking across the sand as if in a trance until he's standing right in front of billy.

                                   he looks different — the first thing that izzy notices is the raised scars that track across his forearms, a little lighter than the rest — & yet the same. there are the same eyes he remembers, the same smile, the same thick lashes, & the same laugh when izzy breaks the silence. & izzy feels the air he hadn't even realized he'd been holding in rush out of his lungs, permission given to breathe again.

              ❝ yeah, i fuckin' can. ❞ he says, giving a sharp laugh of his own. he wants to ask where have you been, & what really happened to you, & do you forgive me for letting you go, & did you miss me the way i missed you ? but izzy isn't sure that he can handle the answers to any of those just yet. so instead he goes with ❝ what took you so long ? ❞ & he wants to hug billy, wants to pull him in close & not let go. but there's someone else there with them, someone with a tall swoop of dark hair standing a way back, as if he doesn't want to interrupt them. but he's watching, & izzy suddenly feels his defenses rising, a dark cloud cast over their reunion. ❝ who's that ? ❞

i don't know whether to be pissed or be thrilled to see you again. — from izzy

billy doesn't know what to feel. the warmth of the ocean breeze hit his face a while ago. and. and it should be enough. it should be enough. but. it isn't. suddenly miles and miles of fucking distance feels like nothing because now it's nothing. and he cannot remember the last time he saw izzy. it feels so long ago. and he'd told steve, he'd said. that he didn't think izzy would be here. but there was no denying. the possibility was there. and he'd be honest because he's going on this fucking healing journey or some fucking shit. because getting your guts stabbed in all directions kinda tends to change your view on life. but it's not. it's not that. it's the fact that billy's feet can feel the sand between his two and izzy is there like he's been waiting since the day billy got dragged tooth and nailed to certain fucking death. it's. it's a lot. and billy is kinda glad izzy says something because billy could have in fact fucking fainted before being able to day anything. like. sorry i left without saying anything. and you had to know what happened. and you knew, we both know you knew. and i missed you. and i thought you weren't going to be here. and do you miss me?

but he just stands there and billy laughs, because life is fucking ridiculous and god has a thing against billy. like it's a given. he looks to a side, and sees the ocean. and he feels seventeen again. feels sixteen again. on the beach. "-come on man." he starts, like not a single day has passed since they have been here. his heart feels heavy almost. he doesn't know. but when has he ever known "i think you can be both." he smirks at him. like this isn't altering the way billy is breathing. like. like he isn't dying to hold him again. something is different about billy. he can't hide it. dying does that to you.

@musecraft