Eliza: Stowaway

Eliza never doubted her love for city life, but the strain was getting to Scarlett. They had grown up on the islands of Sulani with a passion for the salty air and hot summers. San Myshuno carried its weight in industry. The city redeveloped over the years, but there were times when a thick orange smog descended. Scarlett wheezed, suffering with each breath. The mayor opted to designate the central areas off-limits to car traffic. It mitigated the accumulation of exhaust fumes alongside industry. None of this made a difference to Scarlett. The mornings faired better; the air flowed in with the waters. It seemed crisp and fresh as it filtered through the mountains. As the day wore on, it was clear this city possessed a micro-climate. The heat-absorbing concrete filtered the congested lungs of its buildings.

The decision to escape the buzzing atmosphere was sudden. Scarlett had secured a weekend off work, the first in months. They expected to relax, visit the spa, or binge-watch TV shows Eliza thought intriguing. Eliza had devised an alternative plan, and a bag stood prepared, poised beside the door. Their friend Azure welcomed Scarlett. He had received a key and strict instructions from Eliza regarding the cats. Azure watched, amused by the extra special attention Eliza gave. Each received a kiss and head scratches. The favorite was clear, with Chandler coming back for another round of attention.

Granite Falls held a certain charm. An old world feel with a strange mythology of magical wars ripping apart the earth. The jagged rocks and scattered boulders claimed to support the bizarre stories. Nature spread across the once supposed barren land. It grew tall, throwing a canopy of shade to filter the air and sunlight. The earthy aroma warmed the evening as trees settled and cooled. Hints of musk as the damp ground exhaled, giving a sweet, rich atmosphere. Scarlett felt invigorated as these scents emphasized the pine surrounding them. When Scarlett imagined the campgrounds, they expected colorful canvases. Unwashed people scattered through the forest and an unkempt toilet block with spiders. The thought of insects crawling into sleeping bags made them shudder.

A modest wooden cabin nestled amongst the trees awaited their arrival. Pine timbers affixed to a rudimentary frame formed the basis. It featured windows with single panes of glass. The shallow slope of the gabled roof and rear porch completed their weekend home. Scarlett relaxed their shoulders, and a curl of the lips turned towards the sky. The decoration was simple, spaced out, yet cozy. They eyed the basic kitchen, wondering who would sign up to cook. While restaurants and cafes were absent, the ranger suggested fishing for supper. They could also make use of the garden for their vegetables.

Eliza set the picnic basket she had brought to fulfill their needs onto the countertop. It let out a growl, a hiss, and then came a yowl. The drawn-out cry of a young cat who thought they had found the perfect hiding spot. Eliza tensed, and Scarlett turned, their eyes widening at the sound. Chandler, his leopard print spots, pushed his head through the opened basket lid. His white belly purred, filled with nibbles. Chandler enjoyed snacking on the chicken, fish, and pork Eliza had prepared for their trip. She sighed, scratching his head, guessing she would be fishing for their supper after all.

Eliza and Chandler: https://katverse.com/2020/07/17/posing-with-a-cat-pose-pack/#google_vignette

Charlotte: Oh, Brother!

The light faded from the sky. It bled orange, pink, purple and blue as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon. Light peppered the blackening sky, bringing the contemplative and serenity Charlotte craved. In this vampires came alive. A transient moment between day and night when they could see the world in vibrant colour. Everything changed in the artificial glow of modern light. In Charlotte’s eyes, it brought a touch of grey or appeared like early colour TVs.

She stood at the foot of stone stairs, each step a mountain to the unforgiven pain she caused. The home itself held a degree of irony for a vampire entering. A converted church played host to the final years of her life and would bring her home for a reckoning. Place of confession, but would her brother host as the priest and forgive her? The stone arch around the mahogany door, the weathered wood cared for by her brother. The carved panel honoured its former life. Surviving intact, adorned with copper handles and bevelled glass.

Patrick greeted them in silence. The palpable energy-filled air was thick and heavy. Charlotte’s feet fell heavy on the wooden floor as she dragged herself to the lounge. She almost hovered on the green sofa, afraid to sit. The threadbare rug drew her eyes, reminding her of the passing of time. Patrick could not bring himself to look at her. He squeezed the seat to disguise the lingering hurt inside.

Leticia positioned herself away from them. Immediate regret followed the offer of a drink. She swallows hard and dry, but marks on her neck throbbed. As small talk came to a halt, the politeness waned, giving way to silence. Leticia wished there was a barrier between her and them as she sensed Caleb watching. A cold sweat formed on the back of her neck, making her shiver.

Charlotte fidgeted with the hem of her blue pleated skirt. How was speaking with a stranger easier than her brother? Sorry was a simple word, and it accomplished nothing. It did not take back sixteen years of heartbreak. Patrick watched as Daciana suffered through the pain. Her body rejecting the human life offered. It would never return Leticia’s health, the slow decline of her heart as it failed to continue pumping. Charlotte wanted him to hug and forgive her, but how could he? Patrick refused to meet her gaze. It veered to the side and lowered to the floor.

The time for reconciliation had passed. Charlotte’s growing remorse at her actions earned her no favours with Patrick. He would travel to the ends of the earth to protect his nieces. Daciana may have their vampiric abilities, but she was his daughter. Embracing the same perspective, Luliana opted to remain with friends throughout Charlotte’s visit. Patrick sighed, thinking he was angry at Charlotte for leaving. He loved the girls, and whilst Charlotte hurt them all, she blessed Patrick with two children. The girls surprised him daily, and he did not want her to regret that decision. But forgiveness was not something he could offer.

Patrick: https://www.patreon.com/posts/simmerianne93-11-68010708

Leticia: https://www.patreon.com/posts/87050277?pr=true

Charlotte and Caleb: https://www.patreon.com/posts/random-70274954?utm_medium=clipboard_copy&utm_source=copyLink&utm_campaign=postshare_creator

Charlotte: Abandonment Issues

Take a moment to enjoy the calm. Let the world around fall away and be present in this moment alone. There is nothing to fear, no pressing concerns or places to be. Let go and share experiences of life before death. To know that here, there will be no judgment. To know that here, there is love, comfort, and support.

Oliver made his assessment, putting together his notes on his patient’s condition. He admired her commitment to their sessions, although some looks she gave him made his skin crawl. He grew accustomed to this feeling when around vampires. The difference with Charlotte was the dreams. The ministry warned him some vampires possessed significant powers. Oliver failed to make eye contact with Charlotte, afraid she could read his mind. He wanted her to whisper her deepest desires in his ear. The thought alone sent goosebumps across his skin as he shivered.

Motherhood was something the future may have held for Charlotte. She was seventeen when Caleb swept her off her feet. His vintage emo style, the brown hair sweeping over his right eye and spiked on top. Caleb embodied the escape, a wild ride away from the sparsity of her family. At this point in her life, Charlotte struggled to deal with Eliza’s departure. An experience coupled with the loss of her father formed the basis of her depression. Patrick had little time for his baby sister as he pursued romance. As for her mother, Charlotte had felt distant from her since Eliza ran away. A determined Emilie normalized the disappearance whilst also desperate for Eliza’s return. Their relationship became awkward. Charlotte hated how the world went on without her sister.

Caleb gave her his full attention. She wanted his arms wrapped around her and those lips pressed to hers. What came with this intimacy scared her. It grew inside, worming its way through her body, and Charlotte wanted it out long before she told anyone. She had seen pregnant women with large protruding stomachs. At first, she wondered how to keep her secret. For Charlotte, her bump was small, unintrusive, and easy to conceal. The babies pushed upwards as though trying to touch her heart. Oliver remarked on her choice of words, the tight fists she made into the sofa as Charlotte bit back tears.

The abandonment issue which filled her teenage years came to a head with the pregnancy. Vampire rules meant she could not be with the love she had chosen. Caleb had to walk away from the humanity of his offspring. He made a painful choice to leave another lover to raise their daughters alone. These children should be a gift, a future filled with love. Caleb abandoned his family. He abandoned Charlotte. Oliver could see the thoughts racing through her mind. Charlotte could not let go of Caleb. She already resented the children growing within her. It ran deeper, an unchecked depression linked to her pregnancy.

Charlotte remembered laying in bed, her babies screaming for attention. She remained frozen, believing she would never love them. Charlotte leaned back in the chair, looking around the study. When Caleb sank his teeth into Charlotte, those feelings disappeared. She was reborn and more alive than she had ever been.

Fantasy Oliver and Charlotte: https://herecirmsims.tumblr.com/post/676109848876908544/new-posepack-16-youre-home-for-valentines-day

Caleb and Charlotte: https://www.patreon.com/posts/92737751

Charlotte: https://www.patreon.com/posts/54027351

Charlotte: Acknowledgement

Caleb reached his arm across the bed. The embroidered bedsheet, neat and taut, marked where his wife should lie. Caleb felt the cold space, concerned for her absence. In the other rooms, he could distinguish four separate heartbeats. They drummed together like a percussion ensemble. Their gentle breathing is a whispered song of hope for the future. Wearily, Caleb pulled back the sheet. A chill spread through his body as his feet touched the cold wooden floor. Charlotte stood in the doorway of Damien’s nursery. She smiled as his nose twitched and his hand gripped the sheets. It remained uncertain how long she had stood there, but she was not tired. Charlotte felt peaceful. She welcomed the fading warmth of Caleb as he wrapped his arms around her. Both watched the sleeping toddler, wondering what he was dreaming.

Since Damien was born, Charlotte began to have dreams. They were vivid and with the same outcome of her death. Talking about Eliza triggered the same nightmare. The fiery vision that drove her into her sister’s bedroom the night Eliza left. She was standing in a broken world. Earth scattered across the black, blue, and purple sky. There were stars, two moons, and where she stood a doorway. It shimmered and rippled like the surface of a bubble. Charlotte had never seen this place, but it was real. She could feel the warmth of its night air. An angry voice, neither male nor female, broke the silence. Its physical form was blurry, as the haze of heat caused the form to be indecipherable. Waves of sorrow flowed through her, shaking her body. Charlotte clenched her fists. The figure moved closer, launching balls of fire from their hands. It engulfed her body. Charlotte cried out as the dream self burnt alive. The waking reality woke drenched in sweat, her hair stuck to her body. Charlotte understood this was the future. The Ministry worried about and why it needed to remain a secret from her family.

Caleb buried his face into her neck with feathered kisses, meant to remind Charlotte of all the love he had. She seemed unable to share her dream or explain the peace Damien gave whenever they were close. Charlotte bowed her head, squeezing Caleb’s arms. Anger at herself, Eliza, and the past troubled her thoughts. He guided her to their bedroom. Charlotte needed to focus on the good that came from Eliza’s departure. Eliza’s city life was the reason Caleb saw Charlotte. She was a beacon of light in his darkness. He knew as he waited for the vendor to offer their blood, Charlotte would change his life. She leaned back in his embrace, letting the shared pain flow through. Caleb moved his lips to her ear. He was sorry for the pain she suffered. Starting a family was a future Caleb intended once her training was complete.

He did not regret gifting their daughters with a human life. For allowing Patrick to be their father, and neither should Charlotte. Daciana was an anomaly. She would come home to them when she was ready. Charlotte turned, seeing tears in his eyes. He wanted to believe those words, as Charlotte wished they were true. The Ministry would not share information about Daciana. Caleb feared they wanted to harness her abilities. It would explain why they refused to share how she fared under their training.

Charlotte and Caleb were to remain absent from the lives of the humans. Their eldest, Cornelius, would soon come into his powers. Caleb worried they would use Cornelius as a pawn to manipulate Charlotte. A threat to uphold their ideals and keep the old magic she dreamed about in check. Charlotte’s vision of fire confirmed the rise of at least one elemental in the future.

Charlotte: Parallels

Relax by taking slow, deep breaths. Count down from eight. Seven. Six. Feel the tension leaving the body. Five. Four. Three. If the mind wanders, note the thought, then let it go. Two. One.

The sun bled through the stain-glass and bird song chirped. Charlotte wanted to remember a time she stopped to enjoy it. The memory refused to surface, or it was something she failed to notice. Forcing the imagination to recreate the scene was difficult. Charlotte never appreciated the reality of her human life. The grass swayed with an earthy, tranquil eloquence, creating whispers answered by trees. Rays of light splintered through the leafy branches and danced on the grass. Oliver’s voice guided her through. Charlotte failed to grasp the intention. It appeared bizarre, asking a vampire to visualise the warmth of a summer’s day.

Oliver persisted with his meditation. He hoped in doing so, Charlotte could gain a fresh perspective on her life stressors. He wanted her to be present in the room, self-aware and give her the tools to assess each critical moment. These sessions were to help her understand what drove her to make certain decisions. Oliver asked Charlotte to think back to the most painful memory of her childhood. He wanted Charlotte to express how she felt when Eliza ran away from home.

Charlotte closed her eyes, using the bizarre notion of breathing to focus on that night. She had been sleeping, twisted in her green bedspread and sweating. The nightmare image had long since vanished from her mind. She woke startled by the vision and ran across the landing to where Eliza slept. Their parent’s bedroom was next to hers, but Eliza always made room for Charlotte. She climbed into bed trembling, clutching the pile of pillows covering the bed. Charlotte screamed. She realised Eliza had turned to synthetic fibres stuffed into layers of cotton. Their mother Emilie checked on a sleeping Patrick. This meant Rylan needed to track their dog Sparky. She smiled, recalling the oversized lump that had been Eliza’s dog. He seemed to know Eliza had left and the direction she fled, but even he failed to find her.

Charlotte felt abandoned. Her big sister vanished without a note or waking her to say goodbye. She was gone. Eliza lived in the city for months, and despite being sixteen, she never aroused suspicion. Rylan expected Charlotte to go on with the everyday. She had to act like Eliza would come through the door at the end of the day. The world evolved around the sun, not her missing sister. Eliza’s room remained untouched until Rylan died.

The breath came heavy and filled with rage Charlotte swallowed for years. She could feel it boiling inside her, never confronting Eliza about the decision. The eldest sister could have died, and the family would be none the wiser. It’s what she did to her children, Daciana and Luliana, except Charlotte never planned any of it. Walking out of the house to find Caleb, she made a choice. There was no note, phone call or explanation, and this time, there was a death, her death.

The parallels drawn were the beginning of her journey. Charlotte’s mind unravelled after Eliza’s departure. Their father, Rylan, grew anxious about his stage in life. His father, Jose, died young, suffering a stroke, leaving them with their mother. With Aria, Rylan had a distant relationship, which echoed through each of his children. Charlotte inherited his fear of dying, and the desire to become immortal, a vampire. The other part was the legacy of building a wall between parent and child.

As the tears broke her eyes, Charlotte knew Rylan’s behaviour pushed her sister away. He wanted her to succeed. Eliza was a genius with a natural flair for anything she tried. Rylan was hardest on Eliza for that reason. Charlotte repeated his mistakes, albeit in a different way. She believed a better life for her daughters resided with Patrick. Wanting what was best and knowing what they needed were two different things. Charlotte searched the room for some sense of comfort in the decision she had made. But all that came back was the reminder she was the sum of all she experienced and repeated.

Charlotte: Internal Conflict

Settle in a comfortable position, lying down or seated in a chair. Ensure the body feels supported. Take a slow, deep breath in, and close those eyes.

Charlotte’s hands trembled long before the tears fell. Opening herself up to a stranger meant dealing with conflicting emotions. Each time she saw Dr Beck, or Oliver as he preferred, she fantasised how he would taste. She dreamt of him, herself alone with Oliver. Her hand tugged his hair back to expose his neck, his desire equal with a tender embrace. She would sink her teeth into his neck, encouraged by him. Charlotte never thought of desiring two men in her bed, but here she was, drawn to that idea. Caleb had suggested this when they discovered her ability to seduce anyone. At the time, she wanted to drink from these choice morsels, not pursue a passionate engagement. As she settled opposite Oliver, the decision appeared foolish to deny. If anyone read her mind, what would they make of the inappropriateness of her thoughts? Charlotte feared they would bring a swift end to these conversational sessions.

He spoke with a deep, resonating voice, thick and smooth, like honey. Charlotte felt comforted, a warm embrace with a firm edge bringing her back to reality. As she spoke, her words fractured. Charlotte twisted her fingers, tugging at each one. It was a good question. Why was she here? What use was therapy in helping her make the changes she needed? What if this method did not help her find who she was? Oliver pressed his lips into a thin line, making Charlotte feel patronised. His intention, she knew, was sympathy, but what could he understand of her plight?

Oliver leaned back in the chair, letting out a heavy breath. If Charlotte is unwilling, talking therapy may not work for her. He could see the pain carried was a millstone around her neck. It dragged her and the family she loved into a difficult place. Oliver believed they could help her reconnect with life. It will always be different to the one he and her siblings will live because of the path she chose. He would help prepare her for change and strengthen the family bonds. To do this, they needed to open a dialogue with those surrounding Charlotte and herself.

She had already complied with the initial request, setting manageable goals every day. Charlotte spent time with her children and enjoyed meals with them. It was quite the treat for turned vampires to continue enjoying human food. Not all were lucky, Caleb amongst the unfortunate ones, but he still loved to cook.

Charlotte looked for a clock to show the passage of time. She prayed the door would open and Damien would waddle to her, desperate for cuddles. In her mind, the ticking of the invisible clock ground its gears, straining to chime the session’s end. Oliver snapped her back, a firm voice grounding her in a place she wanted to escape.

Charlotte: https://www.patreon.com/posts/are-you-pose-83613693

Oliver: https://www.patreon.com/posts/simmerianne93-11-68010708

Charlotte and Oliver: https://maddoxx012.tumblr.com/post/636346818488336384/your-desired-posepack2-set-couple-maddoxx

Vampires Vatore: Lost Thoughts

Aurora ran into the house, a hello failing to stop her as strong legs took two steps at a time. Her feet stomped along the landing, and a door slammed shut. After a moment, it opened; Aurora yelled an apology, and the door closed. Aurora booted up the console, eager to squeeze an online adventure in before dinner. She switched on her earpiece and picked up on the conversation with her friends. A girl at school called their teacher mum. She had attempted to cover, repeating with added sarcasm. Aurora found it hilarious, as they all began calling Mrs Dowling mum.

The school had quirks like this. Aurora did not want to imagine being away from the people she called friends. She was popular, with Autumn as her permanent shadow. As with her mother, Aurora protected Autumn from the other children. The younger twin did not help matters. Autumn had a temper, a vial mouth used for name-calling and clawed hands that pulled hair. When they arrived at Windenberg Prep, Aurora latched onto the recent trends. She memorised all the void critters. These cartoon creatures pitted against each other in a battle of wits fascinated her. Their talents derived from four of the eight elements of the old magics. Earth, Air, Fire and Water. The fifth, Void, represented the rest. Aurora loved the strategy, knowing who held the mightiest punch over its foes.

From the front door came a scream. Autumn stomped her foot, throwing her bag across the hall. She lunged at Cornelius. Her nails scratched his skin, calling him names. Parasite and Leech were her favourites, along with Bat Boy, Fang Head and Ghoul. Her anger had zero tolerance for anyone who touched her things. Cornelius held his hands up in surrender, laughing as she demanded the return of her diary. He had to make matters worse. An abysmal read, he was hoping for juicy details. The stuff about near-death experiences from students leaning far back on their chairs. Autumn wrote the boring stuff. Cornelius had already lived that life, and he did it better.

Aurora screamed again, a high pitch. It was enough to wake sleeping zombies and have them clawing to escape the sound. Charlotte stepped between, wondering how to quell the feud. She longed for Autumn to be a toddler, wiggling under the sofa with her butt in the air. They sat at the kitchen counter, kicking each other. Charlotte tried to persuade Cornelius to confess. Her son remained adamant he never took the diary, infuriating his sister further. The offer of a replacement won Charlotte no favours. Autumn felt ridiculed over her entries. She demanded to understanding but refused to compromise.

Caleb realised his mistake in having the twins share a bedroom. He had not understood the complexities of twins or of girls. They were identical from the blue of their eyes, the shade of blonde hair, and their facial structure. To differentiate, Caleb ensured each wore a particular colour scheme. Autumn wore seasonal colours. Her sister Aurora dressed in those of her namesake. Autumn was mean, resenting the shared space of the large bedroom. She lay restless, thinking of her lost thoughts. Her eyes scanned the room lit by their night light. They fell on the pink edge of a book. Her diary had fallen beneath Aurora’s bed. Rather than face another series of denials, Autumn took revenge. Heavy-handed, Autumn cut away her sister’s locks on one side of her head. She sat patient, waiting for Aurora to roll over to finish the job.

Autumn and Cornelius: https://www.patreon.com/posts/come-here-little-65887252

Cornelius: https://sims4.cc/download/bad-child-poses-by-clover/

Charlotte and Autumn: https://www.thesimsresource.com/downloads/details/category/sims4-mods-poses/title/raygun-pose-parent-child-interaction/id/1462712/

Autumn:

Daciana: Handsome Drink

Casimir had followed her that night and watched as she took control of the girl in the toilets. Dacina impressed him with how she handled the situation. There were concerns over the amount of blood coming from Daciana’s victims. His initial thoughts pursued the idea Daciana was a sloppy drinker. On further investigation with a sample sent to the Ministry, he discovered it was worse. Daciana had an imbalance in her biology. It seemed she produced an excess of draculin. She would need to be careful as this caused the victim to bleed out, even after she stopped drinking. In her training, he noted Daciana healed as a human would slow and painful. She bruised, bled and woke sore, moaning of her aching limbs. Casimir wrapped fractured and bleeding knuckles. He wondered if he was wrong to perfect her skills this way.

Patrick raised concerns for his daughter’s welfare. He understood she needed to train to contain her power and bloodlust. Daciana was a walking bruise. Patrick felt Casimir, with his advanced years, was hard on Daciana. Her sixteen-year-old body suffered and might never develop a vampiric endurance. The Ministry advised this was possible due to her production of draculin. She would never be a warrior like Casimir, whose true power and intention remained a secret. Daciana did need to find her place in this world, and it seemed her human form required a human trainer.

Layton Hunter, former fly-half at Newcrest High, had traded in his rugby ball. He was a personal trainer and martial arts coach. Daciana felt energised when they first met, the colours of his clothes imprinted on her mind. The gods blessed Layton with thick blonde hair and stereotypical blue eyes. Daciana found language became word salad in his presence. She spoke nonsense, trying to act like her sister in the grips of a hallucination. Daciana slipped in giggles at his awful jokes. Her skin hummed with his touch as they sparred. The punches received were a fist bump with her heart, and Daciana did all she could to pin him to the ground.

Casimir chaperoned the training sessions with a clear agenda. The plan to expel unutilised energy seemed flawed. As did the notion he could protect Layton from being on Daciana’s menu. He noted her conversations veered towards Layton. Casimir was not well versed in matters of teenage girls. The doe-eyed expression of his charge made him uncomfortable. Her discussion about Layton evolved around his physical appearance. If the boy said something witty, Daciana giggled as she repeated it. Since meeting him, Daciana had turned into her sister.

Daciana often arranged a daytime session, to Casimir’s relief. He requested Patrick attend for the human’s safety. Patrick was unsure what use he would be if Daciana devoured Layton as she never listened to him anymore. Daciana ordered her father to wait in the café, feeling his presence would be too distracting. Patrick raised his eyebrows, wondering how he would distract anyone. He no longer recognised his child but saw how becoming a vampire transformed Daciana. Her slender figure attracted the attention of men and women in the gym. Daciana seemed invigorated by the attention, as it made for easier hunting. The extra few inches she gained in height set her apart from Luliana. Her wardrobe was a personal taste, and the girls no longer swapped clothes.

Layton adjusted Daciana’s stance, straightening her shoulders. His hands applied a gentle touch, bringing her hands up to guard her face. Layton used his legs to nudge hers apart. Her dominant foot stepped forward, encouraging her to shift weight when punching. His body moulded to hers as they addressed the punch bag. Daciana could feel his hot breath on the back of her neck, making her shiver. Her cheeks burned red as their bodies moved as one to make contact with the bag. Daciana twisted in his grip to face him. Layton grabbed her waist, lifting her against the bag. Her legs and arms wrapped around him, and his heart pounded in her ears as she squeezed. He tasted salty, his lips smooth as butter as they glided against hers. Fireworks exploded in her stomach as her legs squeezed tighter. The aroma of mandarin and sandalwood flooded her nostrils as she breathed deeper.

She could feel his tongue circling in her mouth, tickling the roof and dancing with hers. Instinctively, she pushed it against her canines. Blood dripped onto her tongue, a milky, fruity flavour like the gummies Patrick gave her as a child. Layton jumped back, wiping his mouth. The initial shock turned to laughter. He liked her rough play but would rather keep his tongue intact. Daciana found herself pinned to the bag. Her vampiric strength could overthrow him, but she had no intention. Daciana knew what she wanted from Layton, and it wasn’t blood.

A voice cleared, snapping Daciana back to reality. She was standing in the same initial pose. Her hands had not yet made contact with the bag, and her eyes closed. Layton glanced at his watch. Their time was at an end. He needed to shower before his date. Daciana felt her heart sink, the heat of her cheeks and fists clenched. She lashed out at the bag, and it swung back, knocking her to the floor. Layton smirked, fuelling Daciana’s embarrassment. She scrambled to her feet and darted for the door.

Casimir and Daciana: https://www.patreon.com/posts/lets-spar-parts-32939675

Daciana and Layton: https://www.patreon.com/posts/yogi-love-42603300

And: https://mrsnobodyblr.tumblr.com/post/613492398331461632/hey-you-im-sharing-my-newest-posepack-with-you

Daciana: Hunting

It was the lioness in the long grass watching gazelles grazing. The patience of knowing when to strike and when to back down. Slow movements, her body at one with the space surrounding her. Daciana observed the dancing humans. Her gazelles on the glass dancefloor, oblivious to their place on the menu. Her nature, like the lioness, was to hunt and feed. Casimir admired from the shadows, sipping Plasma Janes as his protégé came into her truth.

Casting the hallucination on Luliana was the beginning of her power. Daciana sat at the bar, receiving a disapproving look from the mixologist. Underaged drinking was illegal, but Daciana could not wait another two years. Besides, Casimir believed it was the perfect opportunity to flex her control. The Ministry of Magic coveted Illusionist Vampires. Their ability to persuade humans to perform particular actions was favourable. Illusionists, renowned for their cunning controlled those in business. Working as aides, they influenced senior politicians to the benefit of all. They were paramount in the procurement of plasma from the local hospitals. Daciana’s talent for flavour discernment would make her an asset.

Daciana was starting small. Her smile drew the mixologist. At first, they were resistant, recognising she was too young for cocktails. Daciana lowered her voice, a mesmerising smoky tone, breathy and sultry. Her finger traced circles in the bar, matching the grey pools of her eyes. The fragility of her ability became a battle of wills. Daciana wished the control came as easy. Making her family talk to invisible people felt natural, like breathing. This required focus, something she struggled to maintain when hungry.

Casimir ruined her hunting to force her ability to grow. At least, that is how he viewed it. Daciana found hunger a distraction. She believed she would advance quicker with a full stomach. In the bar, Daciana had spied her dinner, a muscular gentleman with black hair. His presence and the smell of his cologne made her mouth water. She took a slow breath, forcing the connection with the mixologist. It failed as another customer slammed their hand on the bar, making Daciana jump. She clenched her fists as they ordered her away from the bar.

Her dinner headed to the exit, some blonde clutching at his arm. The giggling made Daciana’s neck and shoulders tighten, reminding her of Luliana. Casimir held back, amused. He watched Daciana chase her prey. As a foolish lion cub, she gave away her presence, appearing to the couple as jealous. The man disappeared with his prize, unaware of the fate he escaped. Daciana stood in the chilled evening, angry and frustrated. She pictured tearing his flesh, the blood oozing as a throttled cry would grow silent in death’s grip. There would come a night when she would cease to return hungry. Daciana loathed the plasma packs, bland nonsense with a sickening aftertaste. This fate awaited her as Casimir dragged her home, tormenting her failings.

Dancers: https://marshmallow-sims.tumblr.com/post/704972538403569664/mms-her-party-posepack-my-sims-are-sure-having

Victim and his date: https://www.patreon.com/posts/feel-love-78754496

Milly: Divided By Five

TW: Milly’s Story contains Coercive Behaviour

Milly woke to a gushing between her legs. Her waters had broken, and she was completely soaked. A dull ache in her lower back could be the sofa, but Milly knew better. A foul taste in her mouth reminded her how Hunter celebrated. His voice beckoned upstairs, a groaning painful sound as the hangover took hold. Milly allowed herself a moment to smile, to take some satisfaction in his suffering. James and Selena bumped down the stairs. They were ready for breakfast and cartoons. Hunter’s wailing woke them first. His cries grew louder, but Milly blamed her pregnancy for the slow reaction. She would pay for the delay. He would dismiss her abilities as a human. Her body was nothing more than a vessel to carry their children.

The joy at his discomfort would be temporary. Milly’s body returned the favour, delivering contractions every fifteen minutes. Her menstrual cycle may enjoy being irregular, but her previous pregnancy was textbook. She froze as the pain squeezed, spreading across her lower back and hugging her stomach. Clenching the tea towel and taking slow breaths brought her through. In the time it took to shower and prepare breakfast, the contractions came at ten-minute intervals.

Hunter groaned, clutching his head and cursing his late-night antics. She placed the paracetamol on the table and helped him sit. His stomach churned, releasing a foul-smelling burp. Rotting food and stomach acid did nothing to quell Milly’s queasiness. He popped both pills in, and Milly helped him sip the water. The babysitter agreed to take in the twins. She would drop them off on the way to the hospital. Hunter seemed to relax as he patted her stomach.

Milly realised he was unaware that the baby was preterm. The delay in going to the hospital was risky. She did it for him. Doing what he told her, what he asked. Milly read all the leaflets. The sensation of the baby pushing down. The stomach cramps, backache and bloody discharge. Everything started the previous night. She stroked her stomach as she waited for the doctor. The midwife had scanned the bump and retreated without a word. Milly cried, hoping her decision had not harmed the unborn child. The doctor came in, giving her a reassuring smile and scanned the bump. A strong heartbeat thumped, and a second, weaker than the first.

Milly’s jaw dropped at the notion she was about to deliver twins. The smaller twin was struggling. They strapped a CTG monitor around the bump, registering both babies. The midwife held Milly’s hand, telling her to breathe and remain strong. She was in good hands. All Milly wanted was to get them out, to ensure they kept fighting. Aiden arrived, screaming his way into the world. Powerful lungs commanded attention. Milly tried to see him, but all attention was on the weakening baby inside her. She squeezed the bed, willing her child to come into the world.

She heard the slop, the wetness of a baby entering, but silence came with her. The midwife took the child, suctioning off the fluid and rubbing her back. Sixty seconds is a long time in the life of a newborn who has not taken their first breath. Milly held hers. Aiden was out of reach, already enclosed in the plastic box that would keep him safe. As the seconds ticked, the room grew quiet. The beeps tracked the passage of time until Nadia opened her mouth. A feeble cry broke through. It echoed in the room as relief swept over Milly. The midwife placed Nadia in the incubator beside Aiden. Milly reached in and put a finger in the palm of each child in turn. Tears choked as she watched the staff rush the babies to the neonatal ward.

Milly: https://www.patreon.com/posts/simmerianne93-03-81899132

Hunter and Milly: https://www.mediafire.com/file/zq77b9t7cof0wwf/Waiting_For_Baby.rar

Milly, Doctor and Nurse: https://conceptdesign97sims.tumblr.com/post/148405216038/ts4delivery-pose-set-1-2-trio-pose-1-pose

If you are affected by Milly’s story, help is available: https://refuge.org.uk/