French anon meets vampire tomboy during the DotR

By smuglispweenie

NB: it's the first time I wrote anything (and probably the only time I will), English is my second language and I am a KHH virgin.

The story is one of vampire meets man during the DotR. You may find the self-inserting (especially in the MC's appearance and musical taste) blatant, but that's normal, as it's not so much a story as a formalisation of my recurring DotR daydreams.

>I wake up as usual in my Sleep of the Dead™ deluxe weresheep wool lined coffin, feeling even more dead than I actually am

>A sleepy look around my stone room, slowing my gaze on various competition trophies and classical paintings, starts the day

>Small pause and I finally muster the energy (Maou knows how) to get out of the coffin and walk on expensive Girtablilu rugs towards my personal bathroom

>After washing my face vigorously, I look in the magical VampyreVanity™ mirror and examine myself from bottom to top

>A very pale, slim, toned and almost flat-chested vampire of 155 cm in burgundy pajamas

>Hard, vibrant green eyes overlooking a swarm of light freckles

>Ending with a flurry of dark, jaw-length hair boasting a straightness worthy of a Zipangu girl

>Named Morgane, 22 years old and heiress to the unusually rich (even by vampire standards) Brumesang family, courtesy of a danuki born father

>Not too bad, I say to myself chuckling, but marred by strong eyebags from feeling dead inside for too long

>Well, enough self-admiration, time for breakfast

>I get down the marble stairs, my foot treading the red carpet and my hands sliding down the brass railings

>Ending up in the kitchen where Mother is grilling some bread and making an omelet

>This strange hobby of not using our kikimora servants started a few weeks ago, but it wasn't too bad, as Mother got good really fast at cooking

>And I liked my family, even with the ever present lassitude smothering any real happiness

"Finally out of the bed, Mor?" she says without turning her attention from the pan

<"Good morning, Mother."

"Yes, good midday, indeed." she reproaches before serving me an omelet with some tomato sauce and parsley

<"Must you nag from the start? You know I don't have any lesson this morning."

"I guess so. I must be wanting to see my little girl a bit more energetic than that."

>If there were more worthy men in this doomed world, you'd see a bit more energy, I answer in my head with a silent sigh

>I finish my (delicious) omelet, use bread to clean the remaining tomato sauce and leave the seat

<"I'm heading out to the academy, Mother."

"Take care and study well, though I know you will."

>I go back to my room, change into a light dress suitable for this damned summer and take my small black backpack

>Once in front of the door, a quick look through the peephole makes me pick up my big SunAway™ vampire umbrella, more to my liking than expensive and unreliable personal shade spells, before getting out and heading to the gate

>I then engage in the cypress lined central alley, my leather boots crunching on the white gravel so typical of rich homes

>A quick look back shows me the Brumesang mansion, an immense gothic manor that screams vampire from kilometers away

>Mother and Father even splurged on a masterpiece spell to permanently keep the sky above the property at the least cloudy

>It takes a few minutes to traverse the immense garden and arrive to the estate's gate, where the usual outdoor kikimora, Maria, opens it for me

>The gate gives a carefully cultivated sinister screech, which never fails to make me laugh

>Mother always tells me that the "overdone vampire doom 'n' gloom" I often mock is almost mandatory if we want to get along with the other high class families of the undead persuasion

>I make small talk with Maria while deploying my umbrella and step outside

>A turn left followed by a few hundred meters along the square cut cypress hedges and I stop before an even more (amazingly) sinister domain

>There, I find my childchood friend, Brünhilde, a lanky and melancholic banshee with long white hair

"Hi Mor, how is it going today?"

<"Hello, Bru, not too bad, but you know me."

"Still aggravated by your lack of romance?"

>Brünhilde had found one of the rare decent men during her alchemy research classes

>A bit too neglecting of his physical condition for my tastes, but still a damn good man who knew how to listen and shared multiple hobbies with her

<"You know it. Better single than badly accompanied."

"Ahhh, Mor, if only you lowered your standards and maybe reined in a bit your tomboyishness, you'd have no trouble."

<"But Bru, I've already lowered them as much as I can! Any more lowering, and the word "standard" won't keep its meaning!"

>Brünhilde was nice and all, but she didn't know that much about men, since hers was the one to make the first step while she was absorbed in her studies

>As Father best put it: since the demand is as high as the offer is low, men haven't felt the need to improve themselves for generations, leading to passive idiots just content existing and waiting for courtship

>If only I could be as nonchalant about it as her, life sure would be easier, I said to myself for the thousandth time

>The family library being full of pure romantic fiction sure didn't help my problem of standards

"By the way, what do you think this new "secret" class is going to be? From what I've heard, only "ojou-samas" know about it."

>I hadn't forgotten the announcement and had been as curious as anyone waiting for it to begin

<"I know as much as you do, Bru, but that's the first time I've seen such a thing and I'm quite curious, to be honest."

>As we both arrived to the Beausoleil academy for noble young women of good nature, I started thinking back to the other thing Brünhilde said

>My parents wanted me to know armoured fencing, archery, horse riding and hand-to-hand combat for traditional reasons, as our family had always fulfilled its noblesse oblige duties on the battlefield

>Such training coupled with an unbendable will had warranted from a very young age the "vampire tomboy" moniker from other girls who focused on more maidenly matters

>I sighed, knewing these thoughts weren't new and I was wasting my time rehashing them everyday


>We stepped past the ridiculously ornate golden gates and furtively went along the main building's brick wall to the back by the right side, as instructed

>The classroom was one we had never used, its door magically hidden and closed unless one uses the magical gemstones we were given last week

>The instructions only said

Apply and hold the stone to the steel plate found between ivy branches in the middle of the wall, a bell chime will then announce that the wall has temporarily become passthrough.

>After examining carefully said middle of the wall, we find a mismatched brick made of faded steel with some partly erased runes on it

>Brünhilde takes her stone and place it against the steel

>The expected crystalline chime rings inside my head, as if coming from everywhere

>Apprehensively, we take a step towards the dense ivy while closing our eyes and holding our hands

>We traverse the ivy then cold wall for about half a meter before stepping into a stone tunnel lighted by magical torches

>Few meters further inside, we see a small stone amphitheatre of about fifty seats, an orator desk and next to it, a quite expensive MagiShow™ board that can be used to enlarge and project images

>After a few minutes of students arriving and forming the usual groups, I see that there were indeed only girls from our neighbourhood

>A quick eye sweep showed no missing "ojou-sama", from that uppity wight Claire Beausoleil to that still out-of-place hellhound whose mother married into nobility

>The teacher, one we've never seen before, enters right on time and seals the door from the inside, stopping all chatter

>She's a dishevelled looking crow tengu instantly evocating the word "bookworm" that probably rushed out of the bed to get here

>In fact, she had the look of someone who forgets a lot of things not related to her hobbies

"Good afternoon and welcome, young ladies! My name is Raven Styx and I will teach this extraordinary class for the coming two months" she says with enthusiasm

>Shes switfly takes a head count, making sure no one is missing and starts explaining:

"I'm sure you've all heard about the parallel world rumors, the one supposedly full of humans, half men/half women and with advanced technology but without magic."

>This had rumor started a few months ago and also mentioned sad but sometimes hard men ripe for the taking

>Of course, I didn't pay much attention to this wishful daydreaming

"Well, I'll be brutally clear: this is more than a rumor."

"In fact, that world was magically detected last year, and a few months ago, we managed to make some small but stable scouting portals to it."

"And, as some of the more dubious rumors state, we do plan on invading this world for reasons you'll understand later."

>Whispers spread in the class like brushfire while Raven waits a bit, a smug smile on her face

"Now, this class has one purpose" the tengu almost screams over the noise

"To teach you in advance of the relevant knowledge gathered by our doppelganger infiltrators before the planned invasion, as your status will certainly require you to hold important positions thereafter."

"And of course, to help you a bit with courtship" is added with a wink.

>Since her first sentence, my attention got divided by the daydreams I previously loathed

>Real men! Like the ones from my novels! Hard knights in shiny armors, charming bards or wise sorcerers dedicating their lives to their art

>The news is almost enough to rediscover what hope feels like

"Silence and attention, please! I'll explain how this course will proceed and only then will I accept some questions."

"We'll go in order over their main alphabet/language, biology, history, geography, political systems, religions and philosophy currents, technology and lack of magi, art, modern mores and finally romantic matters."

"For now, I'll take some questions then start immediately with the program."

>Charbon, the hellhound, raises her paw like she's possessed by a spirit

"Is this true that wars are waged by men in this world? Do they like strong maidens?"

>Claire audibly snickers, making Charbon shrink in her seat

"Yes, this is true and due to their technological advances, their wars are quite different from ours; imagine every warrior being a minor warlock."

"As for the other matter, don't worry miss Noir, you'll find plenty of such taste in men." Raven said grinning

>Visibly pleased by the answer, Charbon settles down on her chair, tail wagging furiously

>Claire then raises a trembling hand

"Do they have nobility? Will women such as myself be able to find intelligent and sensible aristocrats?"

>I may hate her gilded guts, but this was a damn good question

>The crow tengu winces a bit, preparing her best answer while I swallow my spit

"It's best that you learn of it right now: this world is suffering from a profound decadence, nearing the end of its fall into darkness."

"Things such as virtue, honor, strength or wisdom are overtly mocked while hedonism or even worse is the overwhelming norm."

"Institutional nobility is anything but dead, and actual men of excellence are forced into hermetic solitude by their peers."

"Try to imagine a world made of more than nine tenth hellhounds or orcs with a power class composed entirely of danukis."

>The entire class shudders, even Charbon understanding the extent of the problem

"BUT! Said virtue isn't completely dead, we are confident it can be rekindled once our forces have taken out the bad elements and with your help as proper leaders."

"Which is why this class exists, you're not going to dreamland, ladies, you're going to make it."

>Raven stays silent for a moment and looks around

"I'm sure you all understand that this is a state secret only to be shared amongst yourselves and your families, if we want to avoid a lust fuelled panic."

"Men are also not in the secret, as some powerful people thought the sudden afflux of "competitors" wouldn't be to their collective taste."

"Now! Let us start with language, we'll be learning what is called the Latin alphabet and English language during the few next lessons."


>After 3 hours of dense infodump, luckily made digestible by the lively teacher, we are released

"Class is dismissed, I'll see you every Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday, same place and same hour."

"Don't worry about your overridden classes, the corresponding teachers have been informed."

>The room then slowly empties, students walking away in a dreamy daze

>Brünhilde and myself follow, walking back home with animated chatter

"Mor, I don't remember the last time I've seen you with a smile!"

<"How could I not smile? This is the best thing to happen in years!"

"Well, we're home, do you want a tea with me?"

<"Thanks Bru, but not today, I have a lot of think about."

"I guess so, well, 'till tomorrow, then."


>Maria opens the gate when sighting me, almost frightened by my alien expression

>I walk briskly across the garden, memories of Mother teaching me about vampires and how the bloodsucking of their chosen one felt surfacing for no reasons

>Also remembered were the saucy parts in some of the books of the family library, putting a burning blush on my face

>As I remove my boots in the entrance, Mother beckons me to join her in the salon

"So, you've heard the news, Morgane?"

<"Yes" I say with barely contained excitement

"Oh Morgane, I'm so happy for you! You'll get your chance, you'll see."

<"Wait" you say after quick thinking

<"Is your new cooking and eating in the kitchen hobby from this new world?"

>Mother blushes furiously, I know whom I take after

"Yes. Don't you find it charming?"

<"I do, of course."

>But inside, I start to worry about the tidal wave of human fads coming to submerge even my usually stoic family

>Even compared to the other nobles, I was quite conservative, which furthered my "alienation" from Claire's group

"Tonight is blood sausages, I know you like them, Mor."

>I did like them blood sausages, adding even more to this already exceptional day

<"Thanks, Mom."

>Dinner was as perfect as expected, the sausages going perfectly with the green peas and mashed potatoes

>My imagination was still going strong when going to sleep, giving me messy dreams


>Over the next months, a brutal disenchantment replaced the original elation and hope, matching "perfectly" the shift from summer to autumn

>The situation in that other world was dire and repulsive, finding a man in that "shithole", as the lower classes would say, seemed impossible

>Their people were trapped in a system called democracy going against all natural laws and drowning the exceptional in the mundane

>History showed how much they had fallen compared to golden ages with comparatively much less technology, but way more sanity

>Religions made primarly to control the masses of a barbarian area called Middle East had taken over the whole world

>Philosophy dedicated to excellence did exist. Millennias ago. Now, very few people knew of them and even fewer actually applied them

>Technology was so incredible that it replaced magic, practically speaking. But the focus of its development on the lowest common denominator and its simple minded pleasures was terrible

>Their mores and "romantic" ways were ghastly, sending most girls into despair, even making the always prim and proper Claire faint

>Each morning fencing and fighting lesson I got through, my salamander tutor tried to gently prod me about my terrible mood

>Each evening, Mother did the same when seeing my face, and I knew she didn't know as much as me about that world

>Father did wonder too, especially when we were alone during his business lessons, but said that he wouldn't ask, since Mother said to him that it was "girl troubles"

>During the long lessons on technology, some artifacts from the other world were brought in for us to look at and try

>After being introduced to some of them, my discussions with Brünhilde regained a bit of energy

<"Have you seen that "computer" thing? And the Internet! I can't imagine people around the world being able to communicate or even talk instantly."

<"Imagine how it'd apply to your alchemical research, Bru!"

"You know I can't, but I feel that it's something big."

"On the other hand, my mom got an artifact that can play music as if an entire orchestra were in your room!" she whispers to me

>I may be depressed, but music was still one of the reasons I rose every morning

<"I got to hear this."

"Well, after this at my house, what do you say?"

<"You're on."


>We both enter the gloomy castle on the ashen, desolate moor owned by the Finster family

>Those banshees really like to make mountains of their style, even more than us bloodsuckers

>We navigate the castle to Brünhilde's room and she opens the door

>I stop in shock at the transformation from what my memory contained

>The walls were covered in pictures of people with black and white makeup or somber countenances, all clearly from the other world

>Some of them had "electric guitars", instrument that we had had the occasion to try during our lessons, with much fun

<"Bru, are you okay? What is this mess!"

>Brünhilde blushes a bit; very rare for banshees

"Err... Mother helped a lot in that first portals matter, so she got some interesting early spoils."

"Let me give you a tour" she says with excitement

"These tall boxes are called "loudspeakers", they convert electrical signal into sound."

>Electricity was talked about a bit in class, but it was still as good as magic, to me

>An alchemy researcher probably understood it better than the rest of the class

"This metal box, the "amplifier", takes a signal and increases its power without touching its frequency response."

>I didn't understand a word she said, but continued to politely nod

"And finally, this "CD" player takes these shiny discs called "CD" - for Compact Disc - that contain musical information and convert it to electricity."

<"Dumb question, but where are you getting all this electricity?"

"These don't need a lot, so I've built a small waterwheel on the river of the dead we got in the back of the moor and wired an alternator and battery that Mom got for me."

>The Finster family was quite into this, as expected of researchers, drawn like moths to the flame of such technology

<"And those ceedees?"

"Well, Mom was on the scrying team even before the first portal openings, so she learned of their music months ago; you know how banshees are. So when the portals opene-"

>She stops when noticing me stare, dumbfounded

<"That means you kept such an incredible secret from me for that long?" I say, feeling almost hurt

>Brünhilde looked a bit awkward, shuffled on her feet and said:

"It was an important secret. And you know how my family punishes traitors, right?"

>How could I forget? Years ago, when Bru had lied about skipping school for an entire day, she was forced to do an hour long clown show, complete with the costume, in front of all her friends and their parents, including me

<"Sorry, Bru, you're right" I nod understandably

"Let's try some music" changing the subject to cover her embarrassment

>So, over a few "girl nights", we enjoyed some of what was mentioned in the art section of the "other world" class

>The Beatles, Mozart, The Police, Alphaville, Black Sabbath, Elvis Presley, John Coltrane, Yes, Kraftwerk, Joseph Haydn, etc...

>Everything was fascinating, way ahead of what we had there, especially when using "recording technology" as an instrument

>I was even surprised to see our species referenced in some works, would have to ask Ms Styx about it

>But once Brünhilde deemed my ears ready enough, she started playing the kind of stuff 'she' liked

>Long hours of early Siouxsie and the Banshees, Bauhaus, Joy Division and even a strange band called Godflesh strained my nerves beyond reason

>I decide I've had enough, as this was resonating with my current mood way too much to continue without risking a depressive episode

"Bru, please stop. Only banshees revel in despair, you know." I plead half-jokingly

>An exact copy of my friend, just a bit "fuller" in womanly places, opens the door

>Brünhilde's mother chose that moment to enter the room with a tea tray and some black forest gâteau

>She looks at her daughter panting in ecstasy while Marian by Sisters of Mercy is playing

>Then sees my tired face and chuckles, knowing her own species much better than her child

"Brünhilde dear, mind your guest, you're going to embarass yourself."

>The distant banshee snaps out of her trance, looks at us and presses Pause while laughing nervously

"Sorry Morgane, it's hard resisting, sometimes."

"Before you go, Mom and I found something that could lift your mood."

>She gingerly takes a few ceedees out of their enormous boxset and the three of us listen to Wagner's Das Rheingold in its entirety

>Without even understanding what was being said, I started to get periodic tears of admiration by the end of the second scene

>Both Brünhilde and her mother made a "funny face" when the Rhine maidens uttered their spine-tingling scream

>After the end, we all sat a few minutes in silence

>They understood me perfectly, as well or maybe even better than I understood myself

>All the filth in this world can never erase the fact that some men spent decades of their lives crafting such marvels

>While hundreds of others, including women, trained their voices just to allow said marvels to become reality, even performing them centuries after their creation

<"I'm very grateful, you both know me well." I said after wiping my eyes with a handkerchief

"Know that you're not alone, miss Brumesang, and that banshees can be very understanding of your reality."

>I smiled and said goodbye, returning to my home to finally sleep the sleep of the dead my coffin brand promised


>While Mother noticed my renewed hope, she never asked about it

>Though I caught her one evening discussing with Ms Finster in the kitchen

"I don't know what I'd do without you, Sieglinde, my baby is almost a banshee in the body of a vampire!"

"Well, Viviane, you helped us tremendously setting up little Brünhilde's punishment, years ago."

>A shiver runs through me as a rich lady "oh oh oh" ends the exchange, prompting me to continue my stealthy retreat

>Father, never really in the secret, was just glad to see me in better shape

>The "other world" studies, as we called them, continued

>The exact date of the invasion was of course withheld from us, but we could sense a vague something in our teachers and families

>Our class got along thanks to this mix of dread and excitement, even Claire forgetting her mannerism and talking to Charbon "almost" like an equal

>Myself, I couldn't forget that Wagner, but pessimism still crept inside me


>Yesterday, Raven announced that today's lesson would be the last and quickly got out before the panicky questioning could start

>Making me wonder if the invasion would be during the annual two weeks long end of summer break starting tomorrow

>We were all sitting tensely, without much chatter, when Raven arrived

"As you know, this is your last lesson before the invasion, which most of you WON'T take part in, not being suited as soldiers."

"The others will be coordinated directly by the army and their parents."

>Some pouts and grimaces

>Raven then takes a long breath and let it drop:

"Young ladies, prepare yourselves for the hard part: all of what I've been teaching is HISTORY from 20 years ago."

>Incomprehension, confusion then naked fear

"This is what their world looks like now, in its year 2022 A.D."

>Quick slideshow of coalburning, gay prides, slutting/Tinder/divorce stats, overviews of feminism/egalitarianism/relativism/anti-specieism/fat acceptance, etc...

>Only a summary explanation for each slide, as the poor crow tengu has difficulty suppressing her gag reflex

>The end

>The room redefines the word "silence" as my stomach drops to my feet like ten pounds of lead

>Then the teacher makes a last statement before the inevitable assault

"Now, imagine being amongst the last sane men in this mad world."

"I hope that "rescue" is the first word that comes to your mind, not just finding a "hubby"."

>She then braces herself and endorses her scapegoat role to the end


>The more straightforward mamonos unleashed a torrent of abuse, Raven cowering more and more after each "question"

>The others stood thunderstruck, some more naïve than the others with a shattered dream in their hands

>I asked no questions, because everything was clear

>I won't find anybody

>My life will continue to be the pendulum between boredom and pain that this "Schopenhauer" guy mentioned

>My long immortal life

>I get up while painfully restraining my tears (or more accurately, trying to) and start walking directly home

"Morgane, wait!" pleads Brünhilde

>But then, she sees my expression; as her mother said, banshees fortunately can understand that some lonely time is needed, here

>I rush home wanting to collapse in my coffin, cursing that teacher and all of those who thought tricking us before giving us the raw deal was a good idea

>Maria opens the gate very fast, not daring to say a word to me

>The tears are now flowing, but who cares, really?

>When I finally arrive to the mansion, Mother is waiting for me

>I collapse shamelessly into her arms and cry all the pain I repressed for years under my stoic front

"MAMAAAAAAAA... you kn-hic knew, d-didn't you?"

>The pain and lack of surprise on her face says it all

>I continue sobbing in her arms even while being lifted and carried with her to her chair in the salon

>After a few minutes, I calm down a bit and distance myself

>We look into each other's eyes and silently know that there's nothing left to be said, as the situation really 'is' as dire as I make it to be

>I slowly go to my room as Mother lets a painful sigh out

>A long hot bath helps me regain my senses, but the feeling of despair sinks even deeper now that my mind is relatively clear

>Now would be a good time for Bru's music, I thought with a tired chuckle


>Fast forward a few days

>Still no improvements, but the emotional burst has subsided, leaving only cold pain

>I got some "therapy" from Brünhilde through music-from-the-other-world sessions

>Only now can I understand why they would craft such ugly music, I thought as Young God (what a funny concept) by Swans was deafening me pleasurably

>Father, Mother, the servants and private tutors all worried, watching me unravel slowly

>But one morning, Mother knocked on my door, something she had never done before

>I open with a visible question mark above my head and she enters before quickly closing the door

>We both sit on the side of my coffin and she tells me:

"Morgane, before I tell you anything, you must promise to keep it all an absolute secret."

>Even in my state, curiosity and thus attention quickly rise

>I nod vigorously and look at her with expectancy, without even knowing what to expect

"You remember the Hamilton family? Those sorceresses catgirls whose daughter you played with long ago."

<"Yes, of course. They're quite famous, after all."

"When I spoke with her about your problem, the head of the family told me of a sorceress in town who knows how to scry on the man most suitable for you, according to your mana."

>My heart rate quickens as I continue listening

"So calm your nerves before going to this address. That sorceress owes us a favor from old and will help you find at least his name and location so that the appropriate invasion intelligence services can locate him, and a bodyguard hired to "preserve" him."

<"How can I thank you for this new hope?" I say while hugging her

"You better ask how I could watch my precious daughter wither this way while doing naught." she replies, returning my hug with force

>I say nothing and continue hugging her, letting the aforementioned hope fully take root into my emotions

>After a while, I let her go and watch her departure with a smile of relief on her face

>Half an hour of preparations and off to the address on the paper you go

>Without skipping a beat, I depart in a coach manned by Albert, Maria's husband and stable master

>During the route to the nearest teleporter service, I reflected on myself

>Was this definitely girly hysteria fit for a self-admitted tomboy?

>Not really, the heroes from fiction that inspired my life never gave up, even in face of overwhelming odds and guaranteed death

>They despaired, but never let despair take complete control, even in death

>I decid that the grin-and-bear-it style I was used to suited me much better

>While thinking that giving in too fast to the sudden hope presented by Raven was the main cause, the coach arrived

>I got out and waved to Albert before going into the teleporter's shop

>The transaction took no time and almost no money, but the process itself left me dizzy, as I wasn't used to it

>Finding the sorceress' shop in this cold autumn drizzle was comparatively a herculean task, as this town didn't have proper street tags and nobody seemed to have heard about her

>In fine, I found it after half an hour by chance, having gone in circle multiple times, only by sighting the shop sign hanging out in a narrow street

>When walking towards it, I noticed that street names were written on the pavement and not hung on signs as usual, and felt quite dumb

>I blushed a bit while remembering the "maidens having a poor sense of direction" thing in novels and my disdaining reaction towards the authors at the time

>The door was closed and the shop didn't seem alive, but there was no "closed" sign, and I could see a bit of light in the back, so I went for it

>A small bell announced my coming and I took a few seconds enjoying the warmth of the shop before the owner's appearance

>An older, gentle looking woman stops behind the counter and looks at me silently

<"Hello, I am Morgane Brumesang and I've heard you could provide some very "specialised" scrying services." I awkwardly introduce myself

"Hello miss, I don't know what you're talking about, as this is but a potion ingredient shop." she said smiling gently

>Sharp pang of panic, which must have shown slightly on your face

"Haha, relax, dear, you can call me Circe, the dark mage. I do provide such services and have heard about you from your mother."

>I looked at her blushing slightly, embarrassed by my transparency

<"My heart can only take so much, madam, please excuse my lack of humor."

"No matter, dear, I'm just taking fun where I can find it, my shop doesn't get a lot of cute visitors."

>More blush against my will, while she smiles ear to ear, obviously enjoying her teasing

"Well, let's get down to business, I do owe a favour to the Brumesang from when they helped me finance this shop, but the spell needed is very long and taxing, so I may ask for a little something myself."

<"W-what is this "something"?"

"You see, I just want to inspect vampire teeth while its owner is, erm... let's say "aroused"; for example when she sees her future husband for the first time."

"This, of course, would stay between us, dear."

>I feel the heat spreading to my cheeks and nose, more than unusual

>But she knows I can't but accept. I tell her so:

<"You know perfectly well I can't say no!" I manage without stuttering

"Then we have a deal?" she says grinning once again


"Perfect, I'll prepare the spell today, you come back tomorrow at 9 AM and we'll take as much time as we need to find our info."

>I get out quickly to let the wind cool my face down

>While cursing her foxy ways, I couldn't help but start grinning myself when knowing that only a day separates me from this all-important vision

>This time, I manage to find the teleporter's shop back without much troubles, and go back quickly to Albert then home

>While eating dinner, Mother smiles secretively at me while Father is getting more and more confused by my apparent mood swings

>Excited like the day I got my first vampire cape, I go to sleep early, like kids from the other world waiting for this "Santa Claus" character


>I awoke at 7, quickly went about my morning business and departed with Albert half an hour later

>Reaching the shop, my pocket watch indicated 8:45 AM

>Perfect, this girl drunk on impatience said to herself as she entered

"You're here a bit early, miss"

>The sorceress had obviously worked all night

<"Are you okay? Even my banshee friend looks livelier than you."

"Of course I'm not okay, but that's how it is. Pretty sure you know how this works."

>She's right. When you've got something to do, you just do it, and you do it well

"Ah, don't worry about me, this'll make sleep even sweeter."

"For now, just go in the back of the shop while I put this "closed" sign."

>Which I did, finding a pretty big hand mirror and a lot of spell materials on a big table with two chairs

"That spell, originally made by a student, works only for the caster, so I had to modify it in order to do the work alone, but allow the first person touching the mirror to set its "target"."

"So, calm yourself and just hold it until it shows something, then we'll prop it on this table and watch while I take notes."

>With apprehension, my heart ready to burst and stomach full of butterflies, I sit, take the mirror by its handle and peer into it

>At the beginning, it shows nothing but my clothes and the sorceress above my shoulder, as it's not specially enchanted for vampires

>After a minute or so, its surface starts to cloud with white smoke until it clears again and I can see a bed with a man in underwear clutching a strange pillow depicting a woman

>Never having seen a man with so few clothes, I avert my eyes with a blush while giving the mirror to Circe

>She puts the handle in a heavy sand filled earthen pot on the table, so that it can stand upright

>Then, we begin watching that man's day


>I wake up as usual in my comfy bed clutching my dakimakura, 9 AM

>For once, I slept enough

>A minute or so passes before I decide that even with nothing going for it, life must go on and said life starts with getting out of the bed

>And so I did, walking to the bathroom like a zombie, eyes still closed (better than looking at bland white walls and IKEA furniture)

>A few splashes of cold water and a sheet of sandpaper make my face seem alive, at least enough to fight another day

>Out of habit, I look in the mirror

>A tanned, /fit/ 165 cm manlet with buzz cut brown hair and a weeks old wild beard looks back with a pair of sharp, deep-set brown eyes and decent-sized dark circles

>Could be worse, not that it'd matter in my situation

>Name's Jean Dupont, 2 years away from wizardry, living in the south of France

>I put on shorts, a polo shirt and go the kitchen/living room/computer room/home gym to drink my half-liters of whole milk and orange juice

>Today, I pack a cold quarter of quiche and an apple for lunch before taking my backpack and exiting the apartment

>A glance at my Casio F-105 tells me all of this took 15 minutes, fitting "pleasingly" within my assembly line tier routine

>I get down the stairs to my beat up Corolla hatchback, plop onto the seat and put an eurobeat CD on to fill up a bit of my daily energy gauge

>Driving takes only 15 min, leading me to the shared startup car park which still has space, fortunately

>After some more stairs, I reach the ant-sized office, greet blandly the two other devs and sit down, bracing for hours of work knowing the startup's belly will soon be up

>Booting up Jewbuntu takes almost 5 minutes, after which I open Emacs, two terminals and continue debugging my C++ image processing algorithm

>As any true hacker, I use printf debugging, reserving Emacs's gud for the real hairy situations

>It's a bit painful, but with some concentration, I'm usually faster than my Visual Code using philistine colleagues

>A few hours of work go by, the feature and bug list decreasing while the "technical debt" mountain gains another stratum

>We all take a 15 minutes pause, the only one of the day, for coffee; which I don't drink t. tea master race

>While they discuss the latest Netflix/cinema subversion material, modern politics or about what they did/are going to do with their boring wife this weekend, I just appreciate a bit of sun and respite from work

>They're now used to my remoteness, knowing of my powerlevel more than is safe in France, but who cares?

>This time, some memories from years ago of me trying to convince people just like them of the impeding (or more precisely, currently occurring) European doom strangely surface

>Almost nostalgic of the endless energy I had to waste on NPCs basically shouting "the end is nigh!"

>Nowadays, I'm just a social recluse, which suits me quite well; very rarely does my hatred make itself visible on my face anymore, it just invisibly supports me, animating my being otherwise completely dead and buried inside

>Until the day I become completely numb to it, I guess

>The day flows exactly like the others; typical groundhog day, really

>I go home using the same exact route, parking my car in the same space and climbing the stairs to my eremitic cave

>Check my watch again: 5:30 PM, as usual

>A bit of relief washes over me, even my kind knowing that "home sweet home" feeling

>I boot up the Gentoo workstation, launch X and bspwm which immediately start playing random albums through my expensive sound monitors while aerc and sfeed link me to the cyberspace news

>Huh, Junko Yagami's Full Moon, nice

>Open up Nyxt and surf through Tor to and lainchan (lots of faggots here, but /lambda/ is nice)

>After a bit of light posting in the manga threads on /a/ and /tg/ and laughing at faggots STILL giving their money to WotC in the TCG thread, I get to the serious stuff

>/monster/ and more specifically the write and greentext threads; if I want porn, I have boorus

>Shit, already 6, have to start exercising

>About three hours of Baki tier callisthenics ensue, interspaced by various computer chores like consuming new manga chapters on MDex, running a Portage update or reading some good /monster/ shit to get my dried heart its fix

>The exercise usually gives me massive testosterone fuelled boners, didn't fail this time

>For some reason, though, Strauss' Eine Alpensinfonie started playing at that exact moment, moment now way too solemn for me to beat it, so I go a day without, knowing the coming squats will fix the painful tent in my shorts, anyway

>After a shower, light eating made of comté and tomme cheese (thank god for not being an Amerimutt) followed by a fruit and some dark chocolate if (heh) I feel like shit

>Said eating usually done while (re)watching an animu or Top Gear episode

>Then the hard part starts: sleep

>When I'm lucky, I just think about my current Common Lisp project or some DotR scenario before going down

>Tonight, though, it's the usual prayer to Heavenly Pete

>Memories of my various efforts to find love in today's world, like searching for gold in a truck of manure, turn in my head

>Where could I find a strong, intelligent and beautiful girl?

>Heh, at that point, I'm basically looking for a noblewoman, I despair with a mental snicker

>I'd better try killing any remaining hope, maybe I'll get some peace without wanting to die on the spot

>And life goes on


>We both watched, captivated

>Circe only briefly interrupted to do something involving my biting teeth once I saw the man exercising with his short pants a bit tight and started panting too wildly for it to just be the shop's temperature

>She briefly explained that vampire fangs produced a powerful anaesthetic and aphrodisiac in this situation, something she wanted to analyze and work with

>But I was barely listening, not having enough attention left to get flustered

>Only when he started to completely disrobe before bathing did the resulting maidenly shock manage to give me back control

>Which I used for much needed introspection

>Was he the man?

>His hard gaze and spied upon life made it clear he was one of the rare hermits not part of the decadence Raven talked about

>Did I feel that special something, though?


>I don't know

>In fact, I didn't feel much other than strength from him, but I knew better than most how a wretched life made solely of an endless and unwinnable battle against fate can diminish you

>I could be the cure

>Would I even recognise love if it hit me in the face, with my lack of experience?


>Too much romance novels may have a role to play in my expecting love to be like a lightning strike, in retrospective

>Remembering a discussion with Mother, I try very hard to imagine him being with another woman


>I guess this is what jealousy feels like, huh?

>Anyway, his mana is supposed to be the perfect match, his virtue exceeded my standards and his reaction to music was uncannily similar to mine

>And what he s-s-stirred within my body I never felt while watching any other man, even during the July wrestling tournament

>Thinking about his body, he seemed a bit smaller than most other men in the vision, but I'm myself no giant

>I wonder how small our children would be...


>During my daydreaming, Circe, sporting a shit-eating grin probably due to my yet unmatched full face blush, cancelled the spell

>Which also broke the "spell" on me, inducing some unexpected withdrawal symptoms

<"Wait, did we find info about his identity and whereabouts?" I almost shouted in panic

"Yes, his computer message list has him named as Jean Dupont and during his drive, road signs pointed to a town near Montpellier."

>My brain now back to working nominally makes a suspicious beep

<"Wait, how do you know about all this other world stuff? It's supposed to be secret."

"Ara ara, I'm sure you understand why I have the confidence of the powers that be, miss."

>Sure made sense

>Mentally checking what I had to do now, I remembered her "request" and felt my face get hot for the hundredth time today

<"D-do you have enough from my teeth for me to go?"

"Yes, yes, I'll probably try to synthesise it. I'm sure it'd sell." she said absent-mindedly, surprsingly not teasing me any further

>Now was the time to be honest, I thought

<"Well, Ms Circe, even with your annoying manners, I must thank you from the bottom of my heart: without you, I don't even dare imagine how my life would have continued."

>Circe drops her grin for the first time and looks at me with serious eyes

>She suddenly grabs me to give a strong hug

"Oh, Morgane, I may act cheeky to forget I'm getting old, but I was the one who said to your mother that I 'had' to help you, favour collection or not."

>I couldn't help getting moist eyes, feeling like I had a second mother to help me get back on my feet

>My stay ended with very girly farewells that certainly clashed the manly resolutions of yesterday

>After realising only now that I still didn't know the invasion date, I hurried a bit more, now being almost 11 PM

>Once home, Mother quickly made a letter sealed with the family crest containing the information request and put it in the magical mailbox

>The letter instantly disappeared in a fiery flash, being sent to an address only known to the user's mind

>An incredibly short 15 minutes later, the answer containing his specific address, photograph and a detailed map arrived within a similar flash

>She stares at the photograph for a few seconds and says smugly

"Huh, you have quite the good taste, dear daugther."

>I blush, saying nothing

>Then it's just a matter of hiring a couple of army bruisers for VIP protection services, which was apparently something ordinary enough that Mother knew exactly who to contact

>Again, I thank Mother, pondering that, sometimes, it's good to be the sheltered daughter of such a competent high class woman

>Now feeling relief that everything that could be done was, I take the original map with me and go see Brünhilde

>Brünhilde, as calm and understanding as always, still got a little excited for my sake

"So you finally found him? Jean Dupont... what a strange name."

<"Bru, I'm a bit worried because I didn't feel as if it were love at first sight..."

"Mor, I'm pretty sure you may yet feel such a thing when encountering him in the flesh, but love can also bloom slowly, growing stronger with time."

"This is what happened to me, I just appreciated being with Arthur more and more, I respected him, wanted him all for myself and was wanted in the same way. Until, finally, unbreakable trust on a level that even my family doesn't inspire was just there."

<"I see, I'll take your advice to heart. And sorry for having ignored my soul sister since I broke down and fled class."

"You did nothing wrong, as time was of the essence, considering we don't know when the invasion is scheduled."



<"I sense a but coming from you." you say with a sliver of fear

"Well, let's say that I had a talk with Charbon's mother, which is the chief instructor for the shock troops made of ushi-onis, hellhounds, etc..."

"She let slip that the troops were getting unhinged and seriously feared that discipline in the ranks would shatter during the action."

>Fleeting images of two hellhounds fighting each other to rape my promised shatter my newfound calm

<"I've got to do something, Bru. But what?" I say with panic in my voice

"How about protecting him yourself? You're certainly strong enough. And it's quite romantic, too."

>I let this idea simmer in my skull. Yes, obvious answer, why didn't I think of it myself?

<"Of course, but the difficulty is how? I don't even know when the invasion is, much less how I'll sneak out."

<"Wait, I know. Charbon. A disciplined hellhound with a high officer mother should be part of the plan."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

<"I'd love to, Bru, but you know Charbon is a bit shy, going alone seems like the better idea."

"You know where it is?"

<"That normal house on the hill behind your moor, right?"

>Apparently, Charbon's mother had married into nobility, but her husband followed her wishes for a lower class kind of life

>Mr Noir still handled his noble's duties, he and his elegant wife attending the various balls or receptions and Charbon of course going to Beausoleil academy

>I had had very few contact with the very shy hellhound, which was obviously being bullied by the likes of Claire for being a "barbecue sauce smelling rape dog"

>My reputation as just and reasoned should, I hoped, make it easier to approach her, even for someone from a species that usually acts like the aforementioned wight

>I bid farewell to Brünhilde and her mother, before going back home and straight to sleep


>Wake up at 9, still a bit tired because yours was a nervous sleep

>Putting my most casual clothes (slim black pants and a dark blue duffle-coat over a gray shirt), I go to Charbon's house, which is only 20 minutes away on foot

>Once I start sighting the oaken chalet, an unexpected whiff of jealousy surges inside me, wanting for my family to stop all its posturing and use such a practical and warm abode

>My heritage quickly asserts itself, though, as I conclude that our manor is certainly much cooler looking

>I arrive at the simple door, without any gate to cross and seemingly no servants to welcome me

>A bit of mental bracing for any possible hellhound antics and I ring the rusty iron bell

>The door opens way too quickly for my comfort, a menacing hellhound with multiple scars and bulging muscles standing in the way

>Ms Noir doesn't look very happy to see me

"Miss Brumesang, to what do we owe this pleasure?" she says coldly

>My bracing didn't serve much

>Nobody can stay calm when the most prominent shock troop instructor looks at me like a menace to her family

<"I just want to talk with Charbon, if possible."

>Wew, quite proud I didn't stutter here, my shaking in my boots was getting a bit loud though

"Just talk? You mean victimise my poor girl, right?" she growls with increasing volume

>I'm not proud of it, but I was seriously getting ready to flee

>At the same moment, I hear soft running on wooden floor and recognise Charbon rushing down the stairs

>Hard to confuse her with her mother: she's a smaller, chubbier and girlier specimen in tartan flannel pajamas

"Mom! Morgane isn't like Claire and her band, she's always been nice to me, like Brünhilde!" she says

"Oh. Well, then." you could still hear doubt in her voice, her protective instincts being hard to tame this quickly

"Sorry, miss, I hope you understand my position."

<"Of course, though I must confess that I never tried to defend Charbon from Claire."

"Nonsense! Defending a hellhound! Hah! Thank Maou you didn't, Charbon should just grow up and finally thrown the glove down."

"Mooom! Stop embarrassing me!" says a fidgeting Charbon that would doubtlessly be beet red if hellhounds could blush

>I don't make the effort to hide a little smile, their familial love being warming to a vampire whose only childhood friend is a banshee

"Come on in, miss, I made you stand in this autumn weather so long I ought to be called rude."

>A quick nod and I enter the very warm house, courtesy of an active fireplace and two adult hellhounds

"I'll leave you alone, I'm sure you don't want an old woman meddling with your girl stuff."

"If you need me, I'll be in the kitchen tending to the frying chicken." she says while leaving you to your devices

"Let's go to my room, Morgane."

>I follow her up the stairs, my thick socks warming up gradually on the wooden floor

>Her room is the most un-hellhound-y I've ever seen

>Book cases, a painting workbench in use, a neat sewing station and a lot of very girly homemade things everywhere

>Including a pink princess bed complete with its canopy and a big "meat bludgeon" plushie like those on butcher shop signs

>I freeze with my mouth open, trying to absorb what I'm seeing, all the while Charbon fidgets so hard she almost trips

"T-this is my room... I know it's not a proper adult hellhound room, Mom says so while sighing almost everyday."

<"Don't worry. I was a bit... surprised, but it's charming in its own right."

>I just hoped Claire never learned of this or she might tease Charbon into oblivion

"So, Morgane, what reason do you have for coming to see me." she says while we sit on her sofa

>Lightning thinking discards all possible approachs in favour of simple honesty

>I explain everything to her before arriving to the crux of the matter

"Ohhh, Morgane, this is almost like a novel! You're going to meet your prince charming?"

<"Uhhh, yeah. The problem is that I need to sneak out with the army during the invasion, and I thought you could help me on that part."

>My new expanded knowledge of Charbon's personality did clash worryingly with the original idea of her being army material

>But to my surprise, Charbon negated those fears

"Well, Mom thinks this is an important experience for me, so I'll join as a front line grunt."

>I stifle a chuckle as images of sweet Charbon fighting savagely amongst the rape corps pass into my mind

>Useless, though, as Charbon can read me like an open book

"Don't laugh, you meanie! I know I'll look even more out-of-place than at the academy..."

>Detecting a subtle note of despair in her voice, I hasten to reassure her

<"Charbon, you know this isn't true, you're the sport ace of the academy, you'll do well on the battlefield once you adapt to the situation."

<"And you may not be the classiest lady I know, but I'm sure a dashing miss - or Ms - Noir will come back from this."

>On the verge of crying, she grabs my hand a bit too hard for its bones

"Morgane! I know you're someone who means what she says, this matters a lot to me."

>She wipes small tears of joy with her furred forearms before continuing with more assurance

"The invasion starts today at midnight. Give me the location of your target and come here at 8 PM, I know a lich in the portal making team who owes me a little favour."

"I'm sure she'll see no problem in "steering" one of them to our advantage."

>My breath stops as I realise how close the timing is, how all my efforts could have been rendered useless if I had been a single day late

<"Are you sure? You're probably risking court-martial."

"Maou herself would do the same in my place."

>A knock on the door makes us jump of suprise

>Charbon's mother enters

"It's almost noon, will you eat with us, miss Brumesang?"

>Why not? What I had to do back home shouldn't take more than two hours

<"With pleasure, I have yet to taste the famed hellhound fried chicken."

"Then you are in for a treat, my recipe is practically a family heirloom, now." she gloats beaming

>With hunger amplified by constant stress and the prospects of delicious food, I follow them to the homely kitchen before sitting at the round, wooden table

>The otherworldly fried chicken is devoured with manifest pleasure, Ms Noir's tail wagging lazily while watching both of us

>After the filled belly bliss has passed, and before drowsiness begins, Charbon accompanies me to the door and whispers

"Now, depart quickly, there's not much time left and I'm sure you have a lot of preparations to make."

"Don't worry about the plan's odds, as long as I can smuggle you, I'm sure we can always elaborate a makeshift one."

>Her calm and optimism infecting me, I nod and hurry home after thanking Ms Noir for her hospitality

>After arriving, I gently lie by omission to Mother, saying that Charbon and I had a great time before starting to pack my things

>I go to my room and quickly retrieve the light steel armour I got for my 18th Brumesang anniversary

>Fortunately, I had greased it properly before putting it away last time

>My sabre, originally a heavy cavalry weapon adopted for its suitability to vampire strength (and need for cool), wasn't that lucky, though, as I had neglected it

>A full half hour of sharpening was needed to restore it for proper use

>Only one item remained

>I concentrated hard before using the old vampyre ability that only the Brumesang kept alive to this day: turning into mist

>Damn, I should really train more often, this is taxing

>Once the transformation is complete, I slowly ooze down the stairs and wait under its shadow to ensure Mother isn't in the vicinity

>After I am reassured, I float to the gloomy cellar and under the barred door leading to the blood reserve

>Inside, I change back and try my best to unbar it soundlessly before taking one of the enchanted blood fials (allowing undefinite conservation until unstopped) and putting it outside on the floor

>I then reverse my actions, barring the door before sliding under it, back to the cellar

>Curses! I forgot that I couldn't carry much more than my clothes in mist form, and certainly not something as heavy as that flask!

>Nothing to do but throw caution to the wind and stealthily go back to my room without any magical trick, as a giant bat wouldn't be much stealthier than being on foot

>Before closing the door to my room, I get an impression of swift movement in the corner of my eye

>I turn quickly and freeze, eyes darting in all directions


>Nothing but the usual decor

>Weird, must be stress playing tricks on my senses

>I slowly close the door, still on the lookout

>A look at my watch shows that I still got three hours before the rendez-vous

>Terribly nervous (who wouldn't be), I slip into my coffin for a small nap that'll definitely be of use later


>Checking my watch almost every quarter, I decide it's time

>I sit on my blanket with frazzled nerves, as I now realise how near I am to it all

>Hell, I'm illegally infiltrating the army, entering a dark world soon to be thrown into chaotic warfare and possibly fighting other mamonos built like siege engines all for the sake of love

>I let cold blood calm my thumping heart, put my black leather combat fatigues on and the rest of my gear in a big backpack

>Fortunately, Mother now being absent due to her involvement in the invasion gave me more freedom to maneuver

>After writing a quick note to explain what I'm doing on my desk, I set off to the back of the garden

>Once in place, I scream for Maria to come, knowing she'll go around the house by its left side, as the unstable, rocky ground on the other side doesn't agree with her kikimora feet

>The cue I'm waiting for, a distant "Yes, ojou-sama!", reaches my ears

>With approximate timing, I sprint to the other side and reach the gate unimpeded

>A quick turn of my personal key and I'm on my way to Charbon's house


>I arrived in time, finally ice cold as my getting-things-done switch got turned on on the way

>200 meters from her house, Charbon quietly exits the shadow of an oak trunk

>The hound allows herself an impish smile at the sight of my startled jumping

>Damn, got way too scared considering what I'm getting into

<"Why didn't you wait at your house, Charbon?" I whisper conspiratorially

"Mom is already at the meeting point but Dad was home, and the only thing he knows is that I have field exercise tonight."

"Hope you took appropriate gear, this isn't a fencing lesson."

>My, the shy hellhound isn't so shy anymore

>Must be the before-the-battle high

<"You think the "vampire tomboy" would make such a mistake?" I say with a smirk

"N-no, haha."

>Did my humour missfire? Huh.

>I follow Charbon in a brisk cross-country trek, as she explains that this is to protect the secrecy of the operation

>After that last exchange, no more talking until we arrive one hour later to the rendez-vous point, where a military teleporter mage will get us to the final destination

>Mild distress gets to me after realizing the mage could be checking on identities, or just be surprised to see a vampire in here

>Which evaporates instantly as no such thing occurs when we reach the seated witch

>In fact, she seemed quite casual to you

"You're ballsy, guys! I'm supposed to go home in 10 minutes." she also whispers something about an onii-chan in need of "punishment"

"Well, no matter, you're not late per se, so step onto the circle and let's get done with it."

>We do as as we're told and are instantly teleported and dropped onto an immense field surrounded by a forest

<"God, this was ten times worse than the town services."

"Yeah, military teleporters don't bother with the dizziness remedy addon spell." she says as she herself tries to get up without help

>Nausea leaves me after a few seconds and we both stand up, slowly taking in the surrounding view

>We stood in an area with trampled grass where late mamonos continued to be teleported, sometimes arriving on top of one another

>Those accidents would have usually lead to good natured laughter, but the tension was too high for this

>In front of this area, small mountains of cloth showed various discarded bags and garments

>Then we turn to see hundreds of thousands of mamonos standing loosely aligned and grouped into rows of 500 strong battalions arranged in squares, pine tar torches planted every 20 or so meters between each

>I counted 50 battalion per row, still dazzled by the scene

>The uncanny mismatch between such an amount of people and the silence together with the torch lit predator faces was eerie

>Pictures of the Nuremberg rallies we got to see in class sprung to mind

>To our left, a good thousand magic practitioners were seated, drinking spiked tea, meditating or gathering mana

>A seemingly high ranked lich notices Charbon and turn her back to her peers, casting a minor spell to form a number using steam from a nearby kettle

>I can read "15" for a few seconds before the lich acts as if we weren't there

>Charbon flashes a quick thumbs up towards her before whispering

"As you probably guessed, this is lich I spoke of. According to her signal, we'll join the fifteenth battalion."

>I nod and we quickly gear up, avoiding any breach of silence that would bring unwanted attention

>I look at Charbon with her heavy armor and sigh at the sight of her very useful looking helmet

>I reflexively hear Mother's annoying voice enunciate "midians must be paragons of 「AESTHETICS」 at all time", as if she were right behind us

>But I also imagine for a fraction of a second a mesmerised Jean looking at my dashing face, wind in my hair

>Either Mother's influence, or boisterousness was truly a vampire trait, I conclude with a small smile

>We now stand in the fifteenth battalion, me looking as uncomfortably out-of-place amongst the muscular giants as Charbon does in class

>After 15 long minutes waiting for other latecomers, there is a magical flash followed by a bang in the front of the battalions

>Which must be a signal for some sort, as the mages move from their place to the front and the ranks tighten in expectancy

>Then, a lilim teleports in front of the masses and materialises a small platform with a podium that she steps behind

>Her voice, magically amplified, resonates from above our heads

"Learned magicians of large and small power."

"Fellow mamonos, dutiful soldiers and lonely maidens."

"I and my mother Maou thank you greatly for answering this call to arms and showing such unity in making this prowess possible."

"I won't waste your time much longer, but there's something I must emphasise."

"Our mission is one of salvation, through love and some minimal amount of necessary violence."

"Any obvious blood revelry will be punished with the utmost 'severity'!"

>While saying that, she clearly eyes some of the front battalion commanders hailing from the most violent species

"Now that all is said, portals will be created fifty at a times, for each row of battalions."

"Once your battalion goes through, you will be fragmented in smaller groups and directed by your officers."

"Be aware that the actual portal destinations may deviate significantly from their targets, so listen carefully to your superiors, who may have to ascertain position then adapt accordingly."

>She pauses and look at us, gauging the nature and level of the tension

"Am I talking to so-called "monsters" or pansies? LOOK ALIVE!"

>The magically enhanced address electrifies the crowd which gives a deafening war cry

>Then business starts as described

>I recognise Charbon's lich friend supervising the creation of our battalion's portal

>And notice that the mood is sensibly less tense, probably due to the speech having helped with the steam build-up

>The gigantic portal is ready, our commander, a bestial looking ushi-oni with more scars than I can count, directs us to step in, ten mamonos abreast

>As our rank's turn approaches, I hear Charbon's armour clinking like loose change

>The tough front she put on was starting to crumble

>In a decidedly un-Morgane-y gesture, I seize and squeeze her hand, startling her

>She rapidly looks at my face, regaining strength through my apparent aplomb before taking a long calming breath

>When we finally cross the blinding white light, Charbon looks exactly like the other hellhounds

>The troops pour into the large clearing of a dark pine forest

>Disorientation strikes me, as I'm hit by the sun at its zenith when I didn't expected any time lag

>After all, Circe's scrying seemed quite synchronised on that matter. Maybe there was a time lag compensation to the spell, making us observe his prior day?

>Said sun begins to burn my skin to a crisp

>Fortunately, my pack contained a small pot of the family's combat sun screen, which I take the time to slather on my face and hands

>Our commander ends the crossing and starts barking orders at the recon units, primarly arachnes and black harpies with the occasional Cheshire cat sporting its signature shit-eating grin

>By groups of five, they scatter in each cardinal direction

>Then we wait, tension starting to rise anew

>After twenty minutes, about half the groups have come back and I hear the commander curse loudly

"Lack of accuracy, my ass! We're so far from our target my maps don't mean shit anymore!"

>I smile internally, knowing I'm responsible for this "mistake"

>My eyes widen as I see an ushi-oni stop to think for the first time in my life

>Not for long, though

>She climbs a nearby rock and starts to address us

"Troops, we're currently a few kilometers away from a large town called Montpellier."

"I'll let a hundred men stay here and protect the portal while the rest of us will attack."

>Murmurs spread in the ranks while everyone wonders how the hundred unlucky will be chosen

"As the officers numbers thirty, we'll just have a mage make us a 470 big shortest straw set with 100 losers."

>One of the battle mages distributes the straw bundle amongst ten officers and lines start to form

>Short sounds of elation and despair from the front regularly reach my ears

>I hide in the queue behind Charbon, hoping I wouldn't draw too much attention

>When my turn comes, the officer looks at me suspiciously, her face clearly saying "I don't remember ever seeing a vampire grunt"

>Thankfully, there is truly no time for her to dwell on that thought

>Lady Luck continues to shine on me, helping both Charbon and I pick a winner

>Once every loser has stepped down, including a couple of wurms that needed rough "convincing", the remaining winners are roughly divided into platoons assigned to the 20 or so lieutenants, with the higher officers tasked with establishing a command post near the town border

>Charbon uses this opportunity to grab my arm and whisper

"This is it, Morgane, my part is done now. Hope you find what you came for."

<"Yes, good luck to you too. I'm sure you'll make your mother proud." I whisper back, instantly wondering where this sappy line came from

>I follow the platoon amongst its last members while waiting for a good opportunity to take off

>Waiting for the first sign of city seems like a good idea

>After a good half hour of rough forest ground traversal, we reach the first habitations

>And immediately encounter a team of men in bright orange clothes doing some kind of roadworks

>Our bulldozer tier mamonos go apeshit, which I take as a fine cue to fade back into the forest, all the while pitying the nurarihyon lieutenant who has to (try to) enforce discipline

>Waiting a spell in the shadow of a pine, I stalk along the forest border for a few hundred meters before deciding it's time to go solo

>I take a compass and the map to Jean's house out of my pocket

>Removing my armour to make the task easier, I do a quick bat transformation and fly high enough to situate myself on the map

>I see, only a few kilometers to the north

>Unlike the mist change spell, I trained enough as a bat, even with my armour, so I know it's doable

>After getting back, putting my armour on and gathering my stamina, I change again and start the flight

>The rape tainted chaos I'm forced to see under my flight gives me enough adrenaline to fly faster than ever before

>Said adrenaline didn't make my sense of direction better, though, as I got lost at least two times on the way

>When I finally arrive, I feel panic taking over as the "carnage" has clearly reached this area

>I drop down in the car park and hide amidst the cars, fully extenuated by the flight

>Talking of cars, there's one coming over

>My heart stops beating, as I recognise a frantic Jean at the wheel

>What is he doing here? Can't he see what's going on?

>He parks, exits his car and runs like the devil is out to get him (which isn't that implausible) to his apartment

>Seeing him escape successfully brings me great relief, especially as I can spot an ocelomeh that clearly saw him as well

>Suddenly, I hear someone rushing down his apartment stairs and look in disbelief: it's Jean

>What is this idiot doing? What could be worth going back into this apocalypse?

>The ocelomeh, having sensed him come back even before I could, crouches near his car, preparing an ambush

>Overwhelmed by fatigue and powerless to stop the imminent assault, I torture myself with anguish

>Suddenly, my mind almost broken by panic, I remember the words of my salamander tutor chatting about love

"If you want to choose a man worthy of you, miss, you gotta see him in a real fight."

"How could you entrust your back to him, otherwise?"

>Trying to banish the idea that this is plain cowardice, I stalk the stalker, taking a chance I won't get later


>Finally, the day is over

>Since it's Friday, I left work a bit early and went for groceries

>Driving home with my blue IKEA bags full, I contemplate the boring weeke-

>Holy shit, there's some kind of black dog on the road

>I swerve to avoid it but pass near enough to recognise what my mind refused to admit

>That was exactly what a MGE hellhound would look like if it was real

>Is this it, /monster/ bros? DotR for real?

>Won't be a boring weekend if this is case, I say out loud with a nervous chuckle

>Seeing at least a dozen husband-nappings in 5 minutes does confirms my "fears"

>Fortunately, the monsters seemed to avoid running cars (duh, they're not stupid)

>I park like I'm in Initial D and sprint home

>God may have made your life miserable, but he lets you escape, this time

>As I close the door, panting heavily on the other side, I remember greentexts of disgruntled anons turning their home into a fortress and holding out as long as possible

>Fuck, I forgot the groceries in the trunk

>Can't handle a siege without them

>I take my F-S knife and rush back down the stairs, hoping God didn't put me on his shit list in the meantime

>No time to be careful, I just confirm there are no 300 kg rape machines around and run to the car, stooping as much as possible in the process

>Almost there... yes!

>I take the bags out and start turning back, but trouble is here

>A "mere" 100 kg rape machine greets me, 4 meters away

>That double nigger God definitely didn't like you no more

>Even in my "I'm fucked" state, I could see that this was a damn cute rape machine

>Ocelomeh, categorises the still working trivia part of my brain

>A single look into her eyes makes me instinctively drop the bags and unsheathe my knife

>I may want it more than anyone in the world, but I sure as hell wasn't going to roll over like a walking dildo

>Plus, I remembered my Patagonian potato farming forum mates telling that the rape machine types preferred men with enough balls to fight back

>The naked blade is patently taken as an invitation to dance, prompting her to jump me with an inhuman leap

>I may lift, but I can't stop a 100 kg muscle cannonball

>Try to get a hit before going down, but I only scratch her, my treacherous heart not allowing me to impale a cute girl

>I go down, losing the knife and my wits for an instant

>The next thing I see is her straddling me with a look of victory and lust plastered on her face

>Drooling rivers from both of her mouths, she roughly caresses my cheek with her paw/hand thing

>But I'm not dead and the direness of the situation finally shuts down my love deprived brain

>I grab the ring finger of the hand on my face and dislocate it, feeling a nasty crunch echo through my palm down to my guts

>Pain replaces the lust in her eyes at once, I use her lost focus to escape from under her weight

>As we both stand again, I can see that her fighting instinct has clearly replaced the previous breeding one

>She slowly advances, way sharper than before, claws out and a hard glint in her stare

>Just before she bull rushes me, a faint whimper can be heard from behind her

>Throwing her concentration just enough for her next move not to kill the also distracted me

>The downward clawing still gets the temple of my turned head, ending on my trapezius and clavicle

>Lightning thinking gives me an idea

>I turn my eyes towards the general source of the whimper and shout "NOW!"

>Dumb cat takes the bait and turns in a flash

>Thanks, pussycat, I won't waste the opportunity

>My turn to tackle her with all the strength left in my body

>She falls backward with her full weight, ending with her head smashing roughly on the asphalt, gifting me with a few seconds of KO

>I flip her, put a knee on her shoulder blade and wristlock her

>Holy shit, didn't know I was capable of that

>She regains her wits and tries to struggle against the lock before realising the futility of her efforts

>Nor can she claw me with her feet or other hand

"You won't rape me alive, better cry uncle fast, kitty!" I hear myself clamor with adrenaline


>I don't even know if it speaks French

>But the embarrassment on her face tells me she understood the idea

>So this is what being the boss of the gym feels like, the imageboard dwelling alter ego within me thinks aloud

>She goes limp and starts to cry her eyes out, her pride shattered... or going for a last chance bluff

>I remain on my guard, but if these are crocodile tears, she deserves an Oscar

>After a few nerve-racking sobs, I stand up and go warily pick up my knife

>At the exact moment I crouch to reach it, she stands up and flees shamelessly, still holding her finger

>It takes me a moment to realise I beat a fucking leopard monster woman barehanded

>Can't suppress a loud victory cry, my autistic strength training having finally borne fruits


>Well, I better savour this at home, I say to myself while collecting my breath

>I weakly go take my bags before resuming my walk home

>But more trouble is here

>And from the look of it, standing my ground would be the most retarded idea in the world

>Four red onis attracted by the commotion


>I watch him try to take on the ocelomeh, knowing I can always jump in to save him, now that I regained a bit of vitality

>The brutal fight stirs my blood and heart

>I've never seen a man able to resist the masses of violence and lust that mamonos like these are

>The air around the ocelomeh then changes, almost announcing his death sentence

>And I'm too far to do anything if she goes for the kill in that state

>I let an unconscious whimper escape my mouth as I curse my wretched carelessness

>Which seems to distract the beast, allowing my love to live a few seconds more

>Before I can move, he uses a childish bluff that miraculously works and pins her to the ground, where she admits defeat and is flees in tears

>He has won

>A man has won against an ocelomeh without weapons

>My man, barring his teeth in a savage rictus

>I grin like a retard, my inner vampire thinking about the world class boast this'll make compared to the other girls' pathetic husbands

>His bestial scream stops my daydream dead in its tracks

>This time, I get up and walk towards him

>But before he even notices me, a group of red onis holding iron clubs enters both of our sights




>Panic gets my brain into top gear, searching for a solution, any solution

>Suddenly, I remember the blood fial

>With trembling hands, I seize the fial and unstop it, quaffing its content as fast as possible without care for the unsightly splashes around my mouth

>I knew what to expect, in theory, but reality is different


>Burning heat courses through a body naturally cold since its birth

>I can sense energy that defies imagination, feeling ready to fight the whole Order and rape half of it all by myself

>As the onis continue approaching, certainly not scared of a tiny 50 kg girl, I draw my sabre and face them in an unyielding stance

>Even in this state, I can vaguely feel confusion from behind me as Jean discovers himself a mysterious protector

>Now nearer, the onis see the blood stains on my face and recognise me as a vampire without any remaining doubt

>But they know they have superiority in numbers and raw individual strength

>As they waver between a vampire that is clearly hopped on blood and the tasty morsel she's protecting, I start walking towards them, my armour clinking loudly

>Their collective look into my crazed eyes followed by an instinctive step backward speaks volumes

>Confidence surges within me: I'm invicible and they know it

>An atavistic and predatory smile uncovers my teeth glistening with blood under the flickering street lights

>Before I fully turn into a mindless ball of fire, one of the frightened onis drops her club and flees

>The loud clank of iron on the road takes the three others out of their deer-in-the-headlights state with a shared shudder

>They follow her at once, slightly disappointing the beast within you but pleasing the prideful vampire


>Shit! Can't let him see me like I'm going to literally eat him!

>I wipe my mouth on my sleeve and try to calm a bit

>Then I face him, the pessimist in me expecting a look of horror

>But no, unexpectedly it's not horror I see, but admiration, and maybe even more if this isn't wishful thinking talking


>Even without the tiredness and blood loss from the previous fight, four onis would have meant certain death by snu-snu in an alcoholic coma

>Imagine then watching a little woman in armour stepping out, visibly intent on protecting you from that fate

>My brain stops working while it tries to compute the situation



>Is this a fight for the prize?

>Before I manage to understand anything, the onis flee in terror before the few steps she took

>Brain still frozen

>A melange of admiration and incredulity unwittingly replaces my previous expression

>She quickly fiddles with her face, even brushing her hair with her fingers, then turns towards me with a smile

>I scan her from top to bottom then bottom to top

>Then I remember that I have to breath

>God, just my type, and I'm specific

>My heart hurts like it's trying to get out of my chest

>"She's the one" I can hear it scream in unison with my body and brain

>But it's not the time to go limp, hell could be behind an angel like this

>I try speaking French, to no avail, before switching to English with success

"Thanks for helping me, there. Let's cut to the chase: who, why and what are you gonna do to me."

<"Morgane Brumesang. I'm here to help you, Jean."

"I don't know you."

>How does she know my name?

<"No matter, you need help from anybody, right now."

"Not if "help" means I'm going to be savagely raped as soon as I lower my guard." I say as I remember her lack of answer to the last question

<"You have my word I won't do anything untoward to you."

>Can see on her face that she said that in the heat of the moment

>Followed by realisation that she'll have ample time to regret it

>I allow myself a tired smile

"Well, I welcome my cute guardian angel, then."

>Ohoho, this blushing could easily become addictive

>I feel faint with the next step I try to take



>Well, this went better than expected

>Could almost marry him right now, per mamono standards

>He starts asking a few questions to see if he's not jumping from the fire into the frying pan

>I answer without thinking much until I hear myself say that I wouldn't do anything untoward to him

>Which starts a vicious circle of me noticing my exceptional horniness and how the promise I just made goes against any possible mamono style conclusion

>I lower my gaze and bite my lip

>Must focus to avoid any more catastrophes

>Wait, did I hear the word "cute" coming from him?

>I look up at his haphazard smile and melt like ice under the sun

>And this boor chooses such a romantic moment to go faint!

>I dash to his side, putting his arm around my shoulder

>Bad idea

>At the slightest skin contact, I recall the "love thunder" that struck when watching him dominate that ocelomeh

>Which makes me feel almost as weak as he is, for different reasons though

>Thank Maou, he won't notice in the state he is

>Suddenly, the weight on my neck increases massively: he's lost consciousness

>Lust takes a back seat to brand new protective instincts

>Gotta get him to safety

>I remember from the scrying where his door is

>Once we arrive in front of it, I stare through brain fog at it until registering that I need the key

>Where are they?


>I look at his shorts

>Must be

>I take a trembling hand to both his pockets before finding them

>Face burning, I find the right key and open the door

>Laying him on his bed, I quickly think about what to do next

>A search in his bathroom gets me some towels

>I pick a small one, soak it in cold water before returning to wash his wounds

>The cold water wakes him up and he stares in confusion

>The confusion doesn't last and is soon replaced by relief

"Bring the brown bottle labelled "oxigenated water" and the box of Steri-Strips from the bathroom. First drawer." he says weakly while pointing to the bathroom

>The items are found and brought along with a chair

>After sitting near the bed, I use the medicine as he instructs, trying to hide the excitement caused by the overpowering smell of his blood

>Up to the moment I get to his clavicle, thus having to remove his shirt

>Lots of wet squirming and panting, especially each time my eyes go over his vulnerable neck

>There'll be much panty washing to do, later on

>Seeing him blush and avert his eyes makes me want to die of embarrassment, but I power through

>After he's correctly patched up, I stand up and back, hands on hips

>For now, he looks much better

"Morgane, could you fetch the bags I left near the car?"

>Leave you alone?

>Not even in your dreams, cupcake

>He guesses the answer from my expression

"It's the food I bought for this week, we're going to regret it seriously if we leave it there."


>He has a point


>I close the shutters to avoid flying mamono trouble before carefully going out and down the stairs

>Should be okay, there's only one entrance

>With screams of pain and pleasure in the distance, I walk squarely to the intact bags, looking constantly around me

>I snatch them and walk back rapidly

>The nearby scream of a hunted prey makes me start running irrationally

>I climb the stairs three steps at a time, open the door out of breath and shove the bags on the floor

>In spite of myself, I rush to his bed, just to see if he's still there

>Sleeping like a baby

>Which reminds me that I too, am dead tired

>But his bed is single place; not that I could keep my word if sleeping in the same bed, anyway

>I search his small home for anything suitable and find a light armchair together with a blanket

"This'll have to do." I mutter, thinking back to my deluxe coffin with envy

>Just as I was going to reward myself with well deserved sleep, a knock on the door (clearly from a fist) echoes in the apartment

>The emotional rollercoaster ride never ends

>Heart beating, I go to the peephole

>Two strangely calm hellhounds

>I start rushing to my sabre before stopping mid-way

>Could these be the bodyguards? Would certainly make sense

>My first words certainly won't be "good job", I think through red hot anger

>I still pick up my sword and open the door

>The look on their face goes progressively through surprise, understanding and shame

"A-are you miss Brumesang?" one asks tentatively

<"Of course, I am!"

<"You know Jean had to fight an ocelomeh barehanded because of your "good work"?"

>They cower perceptibly at my reasonable outburst of anger

"WE HAD TO FIND HUSBAAAAAANDS TOOOOOO!" the other starts wailing

"And after we did, we still thought better late than never." says the first one with a quivering voice, holding n°2 in her arms

>Hard to stay mad when seeing such apologetic hellhounds

>Am I getting soft, or what?

>Deep breath and long sigh

<"Well, all's well that ends well, now."

>Visibly thinking about later consequences, the calmer one tries her hand at being a sycophant

"Fought an ocelomeh barehanded? And won? Wow, you got yourself one hell of a husband, miss."

>Even knowing her intentions, I can't help feeling my nose grow and a grin plaster my face

"Are you gonna tell your mother of our failure?" she goes to the point

<"You know I must. I wouldn't even lie like that for my own sake."

>I take a second look at the hellhound with red puffy eyes and then both of them, noticeably downcast

>And I think about their ruined "honeymoon" due to an inflexible "ojou-sama"

>I am going soft

<"Don't worry, I'll intercede in your favour, Mother will be lenient." I say with another sigh

>Their mood instantly bounces back, making my chest feel a bit warm inside

<"Now go! Before I feel even more foolish for my magnanimity."

>They quickly thank me before leaving, a look of relief on their faces

>Hope they won't take this out on their husband

>My feet are made of lead as I retreat to the bedroom and fall into the armchair, drunk with fatigue

>I set it up so I can go to sleep holding his warm hand

>Eyes closed and it's instant lights out


>I wake up feeling much better

>Especially after leaving behind some horrible "meta" nightmares about the whole thing being just another DotR dream

>As I begin to stretch, I feel her hand clasping mine

>Dear Raptor Jesus, she's so cute I'm going to cry

>I give her hand a quick squeeze, tenderly unlatch her fingers one by one before getting up and starting the best Saturday of my life

>With danger so far behind it's almost forgotten, curiosity could unfold

>I boot the computer and surf to /monster/

>Heh, the board is covered with Ron Paul gifs, as expected

>And screenshots of copious Twitter salt harvested from used sluts (monsterised or not) who now had to compete with boatloads of innocent and virgin pussy

>The screams of "muh incels can't handle liberated women" were more delicious than Olympia's best nectar after all those years of being "on the wrong side of history"

>Then I notice a new "Gets" thread pinned

>Anons showcasing (or being allowed/forced to showcase) their new wives

>I chuckle as the Baphomet fag who spent fortunes in comms spams pictures of his imouto-chan with all-caps captions

>Here the photograph of a pouty ogre can be seen, probably unhappy that sex was interrupted for this drivel

>My eyes widen when reading an anon joking that he brought a lost cat home and seeing his picture of the broken ocelomeh he's nursing, trying to heal her finger and restore her confidence

>Holy shit, what are the odds?

>A post from another fellow frog that got a massive number of replies shows an extremely rare get: a shy hellhound

>Says she's named Charbon, an ironically fitting name that he had to translate for the eternal anglos

>Nice get

>I crack my knuckles and decide to ruin some days

>With a devious smile, I take my camera and go back to the bedroom

>And stealthily take a photo of my sleeping beauty in her armchair, head thrown back against the headrest and mouth wide open with fangs on proud display contrasting with her undignified sleepy drool

>Post it to harvest some vampirefag tears, knowing full well how rare and desirable my get is

>Doesn't fail, thread is spammed with considering_suicide.jpg variations and how I must have dumped all my stats in LUCK to get such a cute combo

>My shit-eating grin fades rapidly as heavy shuffling can be heard from the bedroom and Morgane's face appears frantically around the door frame, red eyes on the verge of tears

>Shit, didn't think about her waking up alone

>She dives into my arms, crying for real now

>Can't even rejoice from the loss of my hugless card, as the guilt from her distress 100% due to my thoughtlessness overrides the feeling

>I let her rest her face onto my shoulder while gently patting her head, resisting the urge to touch her pointy ears

>Seems to work, as she calms down in a minute

<"S-sorry, I feared the worst when I woke up without you."

"Don't worry, I understand. I myself got nightmares of our encounter being nothing but a dream."

"Do you want to bath? I'll show you how the shower works."

>I quickly explain the single handle mixer tap and plastic curtain to her before leaving

>While she takes a hot shower, I try to choose clothes for her


>I put one of my old boxers now too small for me, some fluffy jogging pants, a pair of old flip-flops and an oversized black metal t-shirt in front of the door

>Still better than greasy armour over leathers

"I've put some fresh clothes in front of the door!" I say through the door, suppressing laughter

>After a few minutes, she comes back to the living room, having no problem with her new styling

>Huh? That tacky casual look together with her total lack of care is sexy as hell

>My horndog mind conjures divine images of tomboys in boxers before I tell it to stop

>Now is not the time for that, that comes later

"I think it's time we talk a bit, don't you think?" I say in a matter-of-fact tone

<"Yes, I thought the same while showering."

"Let me prepare some tea, I'm sure you'll have the time to get a dry throat."

>It took her a good two hours to tell me the whole story

>And what a story it was!

>I only now begin to realise how lucky I - scratch that - we are, as she describes a long chain of coincidences, poor timings and deus ex machina interventions

>If I weren't living that dream right now, I'd wager without a pause that she's reading a greentext verbatim out of /monster/

>When she finishes, we both sit in a calm lull, me thinking about it and her looking at me expectantly

"S-so, Jean, what do you think about me?" she finally asks fidgeting

>I smile of true happiness for the first time in more than a decade

"I've waited for you my whole life, Morgane."

<"M-me too." stutters the beet red vampire


>After having eaten some instant yakisoba, which greatly amused Morgane, I proposed we do some important shopping

>I said that as mamono controlled Internet news reported that unconditional surrender had been reached almost everywhere (duh, armies are made of men) and that the dirty kikes and politicians had been sent to some naughty boy prison in wonderland, we should be fine outside

>At least a two place bed and some girl clothes were needed

>I give her my rain umbrella and we go to a nearby shopping center, roads eerily empty

>Can't help snickering when looking at her sitting petrified and sweating profusely in the passenger seat, like a kid's first time taking the plane


>Morgane insisted on holding my hand every second of our outing, acting like a guard dog each time I passed less than 1 meter away from another mamono

>She even went fully armoured, something I found "a bit" overdone, but endearing in its own right

>When I tried to mention it, she said that this was mandatory since our "essences" were still unmixed, and that most monsters could sense that

>Before I became even more amused by her confused explanation, she searched her "other world" knowledge to make the following analogy: I was a single man without wedding ring strolling amongst thirsty maidens. Naked

>I deduced she didn't know about the extensive knowledge of their kind the interweb and the man called KC (that I now strongly suspected of being an infiltrating and/or rogue monster or the husband of one) collected

"So, what should we do for our essences to mix?" I ask with the best innocent eyes I can manage, rubbing my hands furiously in my mind



<"We need to have sex." she says, mumbling the last word while looking at her feet

>Red industrial machinery sign flashing "BLUSH HARVESTING IN PROGRESS, DO NOT INTERRUPT" in my mind

"Eh? What did you say?"

>Shit. I can feel the smugness pull on my cheeks

>I try to curb it, but fighting yesterday's onis by myself seems like an easier feat

>Why contain it? I let it deform my face

<"Y-you kn-" she starts as she raises her eyes to meet mine with a bashful and annoyed expression

>She instantly understands and kicks me (quite hard) in the shin with the tip of her boot, blush now reaching even her ears

>Once I've stopped hopping around while clutching my calf, we resume walking as she pouts and hangs on to my arm, head on shoulder

>After a few seconds, she gives me 'the' heart melting tomboy genki smile and stops grabbing in favour of the initial hand holding


>We quickly chose a bed, simply taking the most expensive double place that could fit in my room

>Along with some sweet goose feather pillows and a silk cover

>When it came to the sheets and pillowcases, she almost made a tantrum, not wanting anything else than the complete red set with black bat prints we found in the shop's cheap section

>Before she could start said tantrum, though, I decided that tackiness was a small price to pay in the grand scheme of things; and cute, anyway

>At least she wasn't a 9gag obsessed Cheshire cat


>But the fun stopped when we went shopping for clothes

>Poor fool that I was, I didn't know what girls shopping for clothing was like

>Thank God I love her, otherwise I don't know how I'd cope

>After TWO FUCKING HOURS, she's finally satisfied with her booty and we can go home

>Lucky us, we had forgotten the bed delivery, coming back with only fifteen minutes of advance

>This is an instance where having the combined strength of a man and a vampire certainly helped

>Once the bed is installed and ready for sleeping, we both stand back, admiring our handiwork

>Someone here is clearly thinking about something else than mere furniture, flush growing on her face

>I know what she wants and I want it too

>But I'm still a kissless virgin who was in a deep depressive state but a few days ago

>Can't jump directly into bed wrestling like that

"Well, job done, let us dine!" I say, playing dumb

>And my new fetish simply didn't allow me to 'not' have her beg, anyway

<"Y-yes. What do you think we should do after dinner?" playing dumb herself, starting to know me well

>Welp, time to get serious for a moment

>I look straight into her eyes, perfectly conscious of the torture I'm inflicting her, even if she seems to somewhat enjoy it

"You know I can't jump the whole staircase without using a single step like that." I say, with an implicit "sorry" in my voice

<"BUT CAN'T WE AT LEAST CUDDLE IN BED?" she pleads in an unbefitting outburst

>For it to override her natural restraint that way, her horny level must be unimaginable

>And I can't help but notice she still took my shyness into consideration and lowered her demands

>From circumstantial hugging and headpatting to bed cuddling... a bit fast, but should be fine, right?

>I just had to hope that "cuddle" meant the same for both our species

"Yeah, of course we can."

>The look of joy on her face almost pains me, making me promise to myself to stop with this gay shit as soon as possible


>We ate dinner in an express fashion, anticipation snuffing the aliments' taste

>Bedtime came soon after

>I remove all but my boxers while she looks, fidgeting

>My turn to leer as she undresses, showing me her perfect alabaster body for the first time

>Gallons of spit to swallow, but I can still keep my composure

>Until she starts moving her hands to her back

>Huh? Women don't sleep with their bra on?

>Utter virginity renders my brain useless as I stare at her undoing the strapless bra with the speed of tar in an hourglass

>Must be payback with interest for all the teasing

>Mind you, she's as red-faced as I must be, right now

>She moans softly as the edge hitches on an erect nipple


>After what felt like hours, I finally gaze at her DFC in all its glory, breathless

>I move my eyes back to her face, only to see her transfixed on 'my' underwear, panting open-mouthed like a dog after a run

>Uh-oh, I look down and see myself sporting a massive and painful boner I didn't have the presence of mind to notice before

>Boner which physically crystallises when my eyes, with a will of their own, take a glance at the dense bush peeking over her now soaked panties

>We stare at each other like statues for an eternity before reaching the tacit agreement to enter the bed

>Only cuddles, right?

>Yeah, right


>I choose the easy mode without a shred of shame, showing my back to her and putting my meat out of temptation

>She immediately spoons me with her petite body, pushing her (very) modest chest into my back

>Action which, compounded by the soothing cold of her undead body and shallow breathing down my neck, tests the limits of my will

>Only the distant knowledge that it must be even harder for her restores my initial resolve

>She then passes an arm and leg over my body, like a lazy cat stretching, and holds the position

>Both of us are breathing laboriously, ready to explode

>Mama, this is gonna be a looooooong night


>We both wake up at the same time with tired eyes but beaming smiles

>With a bit of bravado back, I start the day with a joke

"Huh, we'll have to try this again."

<"Every night as long as we live, dear." she says with bedroom eyes leaving few doubts as to the sincerity of her reply

"There are worse ways to spend immortality."

>I finally get small laugh out of her

>Feel like this is going to become a new hobby, along the already firmly entrenched blush cultivation

>I let her get up and shower first, avoiding a repeat of last night by concealing my harder-than-usual morning wood

>Once we're both ready for another non-lewd wholesome day, we decide that sharing hobbies, maybe with some (clothed) cuddling, was a good idea

>I let her discover my book collection and marvel at her complete ignorance of comic books

>For shit and giggles, I recommend her JoJo's part 1 and 2, wondering if she would feel some fellowship with her buddy Dio

>While she reads, captivated, I shitpost a bit and try to get informed in the already mamono controlled interweb

>Fellow anons and I sometimes spotted computer savvy mamonos on /monster/, henceforth changing the way the /human/ thread was looked at

>Our sekrit club kinda lost its purpose now, but it was slowly morphing into pre-DotR anons sharing their new life and its antics

>A new rule saying "No monsters allowed" came to be

>It was for the best, really, as the board had no other way of surviving

>And even with the loveliest wife in the universe, I didn't want to lose my only connection with the bros who knew the pain of old

>Funnily, some links on the board pointed to a mamono specific imageboard featuring the infamous /human/ board

>I learned there that /monster/ membership and virginity held much importance in their Gets ranking

>With a shudder, I hoped I'd never see my picture there

>A few hours of perfect tranquillity pass like that

>Suddenly, Morgane, having finished part 1, looks up at me with the eyes of someone who wants to share her opinion

<"Jean, I'm in love with those so-called "mangas"!"

<"And this one is exquisite! How can Dio be so cool?" she says with an envious tone

>Eh, I didn't foresee this one, at least not seriously

>Thought she'd be more moved by the pure love story between JoJo and Erina

>But remembering a bit the vampire's innate want for over-the-top drama, I shouldn't have made that mistake

>To-do: offer a prayer to all the possible gods of creation that she doesn't start copying the poses

>Suddenly, Morgane makes a little jump in the air with a "ah" announcing an important recollection

<"Jean! I forgot about it in the agitation! Music!"

"Well, what about music?"

<"I love it as much you do and I 'need' more from your world's bizarre but captivating sounds! I decree this whole day dedicated to music listening."

"Now that you say it, mistress, I had forgotten about it myself."

>Not knowing what to try first, I stay conservative and start with classical: Brahms' double concerto

>I turn the volume way up, put a 15 seconds timer before hitting "Play" and exit my computer chair

>I then lift Morgane out of the armchair by the armpits, who rewards me with a happy "kya!", seat myself in it and settle her on my lap

>A few seconds of foreboding quiet remain, me awaiting her suprise with delight with my arms around her shoulders

>As the first notes blast us, she delivers that and much more

>Her breath accelerates, she basks in the magnificence of Brahms' masterpiece in an almost erotic fashion

>Bullseye, my preconceptions of vampires having some affinity with romantic music are vindicated

>After the last movement's end, we just sit there in silence, Morgane with small tears of emotion

"Not too bad, heh?" I say while touching her cheek to wake her from her artistic trance

>She lets a long blissful sigh do the talking

"Let me put another one."

>Wanting to test the depth of said preconceptions even more, I put on some dark wave

>She seems to be moved as well by Dead Can Dance, showing an enigmatic smile after a few tracks

<"When we go back to my world, you must meet Brünhilde, my childhood friend."


<"The daughter from the neighbouring banshee family. She became almost addicted to music like that; I remember listening to Siouxsie and the Banshees, together with her."

>Interesting, maybe Morgane isn't the only woman I could have fallen for

>I try a last one I discovered but a few weeks ago, Tectonics by P.H.O.B.O.S., which was perfect when I was at the bottom of the despair well

>She doesn't make the face of disgust a normalfag would, but does seem perplexed

>20 minutes in, she asks me to stop it before visibly searching for words

<"It's music I would have liked at my worst, but now, while I don't dislike it, it simply doesn't match my mood." she slowly explains


"I think you're right. Now that I have found the sun of my life, it's not the same anymore."

"It still allows me to remember the bitter-sweet lassitude with some kind of nostalgic appreciation."

<"Hmmmm, i-indeed."

>I love her reactions to mushy lines like these

>After a summary tour of a fraction of my collection, I manage to narrow her tastes: she likes moody stuff, but isn't too much into angry or downright mean sounds, as a bit of death and sludge showed me

>Gothic stuff like Moonspell or Type O Negative really hit her spot, as she directly told me

>Even got a small but priceless instinctive headbanging out of her on some early Danzig

>Which I instantly put in the dearest and safest part of my memory drawer

>This continued for hours, we even forgot to eat more than a few snacks here and there

>Have to mention that Morgane seemed to have become addicted to walnuts, punctuating the day with regular sounds of nut-cracking since her discovery

>After a big yawn, I look at my watch by pure habit only to see 7 PM

>Damn, we spent the entire day on music? She's definitely the best wife candidate for me

"Would you look at the time? I'm getting hungry, what about you?"

<"Same. What about a restaurant?"

>Hmmm, why not? I did want to show off my princess to the normalfags and harvest their envy

"No armour this time, right?"

>I can feel her enter business mode, donning narrowed negotiator eyes

<"Of course, I wouldn't dare. But the sabre stays."

"I guess that's fair." I sigh

<"Give me some time, I'll change into a more proper attire." she says before going to the bedroom with an excited skip

>10 minutes later, she comes out with her best clothes and a smug smile saying "I know it'll blow your mind"

>And it did

>A long, deep blue chinese dress with elegant gold leaf prints hugging tightly her petite body and some cute matching flats

>Plain but immense golden hoop earrings as only jewellery and sober makeup consisting in some dark, gothic shade around her eyes and blood red lipstick to complete her stunning appearance

>I pick up my jaw and give her a double thumbs up, prompting a little happy jump

>Then, with folded arms and an impressed smile, I take the time to savour my pride in the good taste of my woman

>Understated but still noticeable. Classy without being gaudy, hard to do with gold

>The perfect frame for the perfect painting

>And all that gold reassured me a bit concerning the suprise gift I had received from Amazon this morning (had to subscribe to Prime for speed)

>Looking at her then at myself, it was obvious I couldn't go with my usual sportswear, didn't want to bring shame to my soon-to-be wife

"Let me clothe myself to match your beauty, mademoiselle." I say with faked deference

>Damn, didn't wear my "formal" clothes since my last job interview

>Beige chino pants held by a dark blue textile belt with brushed steel buckle, a classic shirt with thin blue and white vertical stripes and the Weston black Golf Derbies my father gave me

>My shoulders barely fitted anymore, but it'll have to do for now

>Pleased enough by the result, I stroll into the living room before stopping hands on hips, imitating her aristocratic assurance with a shit-eating grin

>But she doesn't laugh

>Almost surprised esteem can be seen in her eyes

<"Jean, you should dress up more often."

"I-is that so?"

<"Yes" she says with a wide smile overflowing with reciprocal pride in her husband

"Well, just let me take my vest, wallet and keys, and off we go."

>I stealthily put the gift in one of my vest pockets while she's putting on her own coat

>Hmmm, I'll need a new car to match Morgane's beauty

>Fortunately, I had been saving for a Miata ND for some time now

>We had chosen a new shirohebi owned restaurant, better than anything I ever went at, while still remaining reasonable on the price front

>I park the car nearby and we go the last minutes on foot

>Once the server accepts us into the room, all the eyes turn on us, and more specifically Morgane

>The many open men mouths and subsequent jealousy on the face of women comforted me in the value of my treasure

>I even noticed a mamono only group eyeing me without blinking an eye

>The server sits us down and slowly, life comes back to the room, although with some whispers evidently caused by our entry

>We take our time reading the menu, me having to explain a lot of dishes to Morgane

>Tastefully peppered foie gras as entrée prepares us for the main course with pleasure, Morgane savouring it with a glass of red wine (none for the teetotaller that I am)

>For the main course, we pick a massive prime beef rib for two, served blue with a goulash-like bell pepper sauce and some steamed vegetables

>I stand amazed at Morgane's voraciousness, as she eats almost as much as me from the near one kilogram rib

"You know how to pack it in, dear."

<"Sorry to disappoint you if you were expecting a ladylike eater."

"No, no, I'm glad to have such a "manly" buddy to help me finish this rib." I answer with a grin

>She tries to pout but can't erase the smile in her eyes

>We finish our plates and order cheese, dessert (a delicious rhubarb tart) and some mint green tea to finish

>While we sip our tea with beatific contentment, I take out my gift and slowly put it in front of her

>She looks at the box wrapped in blue with its gold paper bow flower then at me with interrogation

"A gift. For you. Hope you'll like it." I say with pretend aloofness

>She unwraps it and opens the box to uncover a feminine but still sober golden Seiko

"Your pocket watch seemed a bit cumbersome and I thought you'd appreciate practical jewellery." I babble from the stress

>She smiles both from my bashfulness and, fortunately, the gift itself

<"Oh Jean, you shouldn't have..."

"Seeing your reaction, looks like I did well to bother." I joke with relief in my voice

>With a mischievous smile, she thrusts a hand towards me with an implicit but obvious command

>Which I obey, getting us a good laugh as the watch dangles on her delicate wrist when I finish

"Don't worry, we can easily remove some chain links at home."

>The dinner ends peacefully

>As I ask for the note, Morgane shows the family seal on her pocket watch with assurance

>The dullahan server almost throws herself to our feet, head tilting dangerously

"Oh, you don't have to pay, good sirs! We are indebted to the Brumesang heiress and her husband for choosing our modest restaurant."

>Even a simple server knew of her family and acted like that, this far from home?

<"I'll be sure to speak well of Le Serpent Blanc back home." she promises with a haughty smile

>Huh, is that how it works when you're at the top of the upper crust?


>We slowly go back home on tranquil roads, our stomachs filled to the brim

>Morgane even dozing a bit in her seat from powerful post dinner sleepiness

>We arrive and I wake her up by playing a bit with her hair and booping her nose

>To go with our pleasant drowsiness, we end the evening by playing some chess, to Morgane's great pleasure

>That peace is "shattered" once again by the torrid night, fortunately dampened by the aforementioned lack of energy

>We tempt fate by trying another "sleeping position": I did the starfish on my back while she sprawled on top of my side, face resting on my breast

>Lost the kissless card immediately after she settled on me, stopping there was our hardest shared trial yet

>It wasn't shyness anymore, I had been cured of that the first time

>It was us savouring the (not so) slow rise of lust, using a massive dam only to unleash it all during the coming night of our "mamono wedding"


>Another pleasant day, cloudy this time

>Morgane took this opportunity to propose a picnic and cook for the first time

>She went for the kill again with her clothes: tight white sundress and a straw hat

>Which she peppered with the signature tomboyishness I was so fond of by pairing them with Stan Smiths

>We go by car to the Pic Saint-Loup, a nearby moutain very popular with casual hikers

>I pick up the basket and parasol, she takes the vinyl sheet and we commence the ascent

>The hike took us a mere one hour, perfect to whet our appetite

>All of our appetites, for my part, as her sundress was clinging tightly to her sweaty body when we reached the peak

>I take the time to express my suprise at our complete solitude: the Pic usually crawled with normalfags

>We sit down on the white plastic sheet and start to unload the basket

>Simple but delicious sandwiches made of smoked salmon, sour cream and lettuce

>A small bottle of white wine for her, cold water with Antesite for me

>The weather was as perfect as possible, still warm with a slight breeze

>A picture of Morgane's profile smiling, wind playing with her hair and uncovering her knife ears sears itself in my memory

>My eyes suddenly moisten: this is an almost idealistic painting of the happiness I thought I'd never get

>She notices my expression and shares her concerns

<"You okay? What's wrong?"

>I rub my eyes and smile again

"Nothing. You will think this is dumb, but I'm just not used to such happiness coming to me this fast."

"I'm like a Bedouin who lived 30 years in the desert before seeing a lake for the first time then being told he can swim in it."

<"If I had had six more years of the life I had before meeting you, maybe I too would be that fragile." she ponders out loud

>I feel my manliness hurt a bit at the word "fragile", but she's right nonetheless

>We finish lunch with a bit of cheese and some pears before drowsing a bit

>I wake up second, but not peacefully, as Morgane got the very un-Morgane-y idea that tickling was a good way to declare war

>Now she's going to get it

>I tickle her frantically in return, discovering another delicious vulnerability

>Which I exploit in full, until my little vampiress is left on the ground wanting for breath, red like a fire engine and tears of laughter streaming down her face

>I was definitely going to get bruises from her wild flailing, but it was worth it, I decide while looking at her massaging her painful cheekbones and giving me the "I'm mad but not really" look

>God then brings you a proper apology gift for the ocelomeh incident by giving her hiccups

>Cutest sound I've heard in my whole life, even better than her sneezes

>I'm able to enjoy these little "hics" and the accompanying blushes during the whole descent, which stop only once we get home


>The afternoon, this time, was filled by us napping again in our adjacents armchairs with some background music, like a peaceful couple of grandparents

>We woke up at 8, laughing silly at the unforeseen length of our doze

>Light eating while listening to more music (she's almost as insatiable as you) before I get an idea

>Let's watch a movie

>My shitposter's will continuing to assert itself, I choose 1992's Bram Stoker's Dracula

>Said will made a mistake, as the movie wasn't as bad as I remembered it

>Nor did I remember the saucy parts this way

>Morgane looked like she was keeping her cool, but I felt otherwise through the hand she was holding

>After it ends, she says she had seen a few movies during class, but always as a student, never as an engrossed viewer

>Looks like you're going to see a lot of movies, from now on

>I can finally check "Watch horror movie with wife afraid in my arms" off my life's to-do list, as I think how fun it'll be to convince her that The Blair Witch Project is really lost and found footage

>11 PM, time to go to "sleep"

>We slip without ceremony under the covers, now a lot less peevish than our first time

>This time, she asks for me to face her

>And when I look into her eyes, I know that this'll be 'the' night

>Ohhhh boy, oh boy, oh boy

>She's flushed but with different kind of look, more feverish than the usual bashfulness

>She licks her lips and finally says it, rubbing her thighs together

<"J-Jean, what do you say about some "untoward things", tonight?"

>Could I even refuse? Did I want to?

>No to both, I'm not stupid

>I answer with a deep kiss, which is taken as the "yes" it was supposed to be

>We slowly let our wandering hands discover each other's body, all the while continuing our passionate kissing

>I go for the tits, because I'll always be a breast man and hers are simply sublime

>Just enough to not be described as completely flat, their perfect balance between suppleness and firmness is addictive to knead

>One hand teases a rock hard nipple, the other slowly enjoys her trained abs while descending...

>On her side, she violently caresses me through my straining underwear

>We both take the next step at the same time, amidst moans and grunts climbing in volume

>My hand picks up speed rubbing her fluffy and wet slit underneath her panties, hers having lowered my boxers, slowly stroking and massaging me with a strong grip

>Her hips suddenly start humping the air in spasms, announcing her first orgasm

>She rolls over and lays on her back with a dumb look on her face, collecting herself until she's ready to continue

>After removing and throwing her underwear, she moves the covers away and straddles me with a savage smile

>She then tears my boxer to pieces and positions herself just above my rod, which stands at an arc

>Still not giving up on foreplay, she begins a demonic pussyjob clearly intent on evening the score

>It doesn't take long for me to cum a small ocean on my torso, which maddens the beast even more

>Said beast starts lapping as if she hadn't seen water for days, all the while slowly humping my leg now slick with her juices

>As she finishes with her cleaning and looks up panting, a drastic change can be felt in her aura: from now on, no more Ms Nice Girl, she's going to ravage me

>She tackles and deep kisses me wildly, not trying to contain her superior strength anymore

>After breaking her embrace to take a breath, she mounts me again and lifts her cute bottom before taking the final step, guiding me with a trembling hand

>She hilts herself on my burning member in one long move, emitting cute whimpers during each slow centimeter while my hands rest on her perfect thighs

>Once all the way in, she just stands shivering of pleasure, eyes rolled back, before starting to explore her own depths with my pulsing probe, moving her hips in gradually bigger and faster circles

>She doesn't make it far before being hit by another violent orgasm and collapsing on my torso, twitching like a ragdoll

>When she finally gathers enough strength to move again, me still balls deep in her tight pussy, eyes glazed by pleasure look into mine, not a single shred of reason left in them

>She resumes moving her hips, not bothering to savour the pleasure anymore, her now-in-charge body wanting to drown in it with absolute greed

>Her motion turns into an infernal cowgirl ride that ends as expected, with her laying exhausted on top of me, dripping with my thick semen

>I flip my now weakened princess of the night and take the lead missionary style all the while kissing alternatively mouth, neck and nipples, even wandering towards her stubbly armpits

>I manage to last long enough for her moans to reach an impressive quality, ending my pounding in a strong leglock of hers

>That should do it, right?

>"Wrong" her body says as she starts squirming with renewed energy under my weight

>I feel two sharp pricks on my neck and realise this is only the beginning

<"J-Jean?" she manages to articulate through the pleasure haze

"Yeah." I reply between two breaths

>Ever so slowly, I feel her fangs tenderly sink into my carotid, her lips glued to my skin like a leech's

>My blood pumps vigorously into her without a single drop wasted, her tongue sensually licking any spillover from the punctures

>What ensues crosses the line of humanity, a bestial fever now engulfing both of us

>She pushes me away without notice to present her glistening behind in a very suggestive way, hips slightly moving by themselves

>I ram her like a train and give the asked for doggy style in a demented fashion, her moans now bordering on shouting

>Even in that state of mind, vivid memories of my hands on her thin waist and delicate hip bones remain

>During the industrial strength hammering, she ends up being lifted in the air with my arms under her knees, limp from the pleasure overdose of consecutive orgasms

>After having filled her to the brim once more, we both collapse on the bed, Morgane's body still animated by a lone spasm here and there

>The predator stops playing dead and suddenly clinches me to deliver a second bite

>Pink mist descends upon me and I completely lose my mind, only a few fragments of violent and slimy mating left to remember

>There end my memories, though I doubt it is because we went to sleep...


>I'm first to wake up, my wristwatch showing 12 AM

>The slightest move makes me feel the state of the bedsheets, "swamp" being a more fitting term right now

>Fortunately, our previous nights' experience made us put a waterproof undersheet

>When I try to move my hips, burning muscle pain makes me cancel my move instantly

>I look at my now married wife, according to mamono standard

>Remembering what I could of the long night, my inner shitposter sends one of XRA's pickup lines about the Beauty and the Beast to the forefront of my thoughts

>She chooses this moment to emerge from sleep

>When I look into her eyes, I can truly feel a deep change; reminding me about all this essence/mana monster stuff

>Guess it's not complete bullshit

>I almost feel like we've known each other for years, children now being the only formality left for the near future

>I convey my happiness with a morning peck on her forehead

"Hi Mor, how are you today?"

<"As perfect as you are, if I go by what your smile tells me, Jean." she says with a similarly relaxed smile

>She tries to move and shows the same pained expression as you earlier

"You too?" I say chuckling

<"It's not funny, for me, it hurts more than muscles!" she whines while hiding a small blush under the sheets

>We both manage to exit the bed, crawling like paraplegic zombies towards the bathroom

>A bit too foreseeable, but my morning boner doesn't go unnoticed by a certain vampiress bending over the rim of the bathtub in a silent invitation


>Won't need to ask me twice


>First shared shower is magical, though it'd work better with a bigger or no bathtub

>The whole day is used to recover, both of us in a mix of post-coïtal bliss aftermath and basking in our newfound feeling of completeness

>Peace is only disturbed for ten minutes as a hakutaku censor escorted by two grumpy jinkos checks that you're not wifeless

>Apparently, a single "smell" of the apartment's air suffices for her

"You know, Mr Dupont, as someone who was so near wizardry, you'd have been forced to take wife if we had found you alone."

"How do you know I was still a virgin?"

"We just used data from the powers that were: mass population spying served us well." she says grinning

"For census reasons, what spec-" she continues

>And stops dead as she sees Morgane slowly walk towards the entrance before letting out a whistle of admiration

"Got yourself a vampire, Mr Dupont?"

"Yes." I answer, strangely embarrassed

"Well, from what I see, nothing amiss to report, goodbye you lovebirds."

>She leaves rapidly, probably having countless remaining men to check on


>A full week of making up lost youth during the night and appreciating the present during the day passes

>Like each morning, I go check the mailbox only to find a manuscript letter with my correct address and Morgane's name written on the front

>Curiosity is high, but a gentleman doesn't open the mail of others

>So I just bring the letter back with me and puts it next to her breakfast bowl full of chocolate milk

<"Hmmm? What's this?" she asks with a quizzical look

"What does it look like to you?"

<"Hmph, someone's getting a bit cheeky. Maybe being princess carried to tonight's bed will improve your attitude."

>Smile fades instantly

>I know she means it

>But revenge is given to me on a silver platter, absolutely no effort required from yours truly

>She opens and reads the short letter, whose content quickly paints her pale face tomato red

"What does it say?"

<"It's Mother. She wants me to come back."

"That's all?"

>After a little pause during which her face expresses a painful internal dilemna, she sighs

<"W-well, guess I'm going to have to read it to you."

>Her perfect-to-a-fault honesty was as endearing as ever

Dear Morgane,

from what I understood from the two bodyguards I sent to protect the man you scryed upon, you must have been living with him for a week.

I expect this is enough to sate the most pressing of your "needs", come back to us, we miss you.

With Mr Dupont, if you want so.


Viviane Brumesang

>She then takes a breath, bracing herself for the offending part

PS: you'll have to tell me how your first time went ♥

>The blush now reaches the tip of her ears, something I've not witnessed often

>With an impish grin, I say to myself that I'll probably appreciate discussing with her mother; such remote teasing skills were impressive

"Well, I don't see a problem. in fact, I've wanted to see your world since being told about it."

>It wasn't my only reason for agreeing so easily

>Maybe she didn't notice it herself, but I started detecting signs of homesickness a few days ago

>Her going back home and doing all the formal meet-the-parents stuff was probably expected from her noble status, anyway

>I just hoped she wouldn't boast too much about me, remembering the dispute she had yesterday with a drunk oni as we were shopping

>Said oni just bumped into me and said to Morgane to watch where her little man was walking

>She finished her taunt by advising the purchase a leash for me, all the while radiating an inebriated smug

>Morgane stood there thunderstruck for a moment, before erupting

<"I'll have you know that my "little man" beat an ocelemoh barehanded! Can you tell the same of your husband? If you have one, of course."


<"Guessed so. You better watch your mouth, you pathetic drunkard!" she spat before averting her eyes in disdain, nose raised high in the air

>The mamonos around just stood open-mouthed, stunned as I was by the pure love fuelled outburst

>I don't remember having been that embarassed AND happy in my whole life, grinning and blushing for all to see

>Morgane then forcefully seized my hand and led us away from the boorish oni, loudly stomping her boots on the tiled floor

>I then thought that I couldn't wait for her to act the whistling kettle after calming down

>To my suprise, that never came

>She just continued to hold my hand and sport a prideful look until the end of our shopping trip

>Anyway, I don't know if my heart can take many more of these episodes

>We quickly decide to depart tonight and stay as long as needed, today will mostly be luggage packing and Morgane telling me more about her world so I'm not completely lost


>Everything packed and ready for action; news saying that Order fanatics were getting a bit uppity back in her homeworld

>Morgane with some of her new clothes on (jeans and metal t-shirt, she can't get enough of them) but still toting her sword on her back

>Me, in one of these out of fashion nylon track pants making a "swish swish" noise when you walk and white t-shirt

>I packed some formal clothes too, wanting to make a good impression in front of her people

>Morgane insisted I at least wear my dagger, fawning over me like a mother

>Was this Order thing really that terrible?

>Now that I think of it, if it managed to resist the mamonos for so long while our world folded in a day, they're probably not chickenshit

>We went by car, as a neighbouring harpy had told us a rough road had been built to the same portal Morgane used to invade

>Said road was lined with magical torches barely piercing the dark forest around it

>We arrive at the gigantic glowing portal, a bit suprised by the amount of people at 11 PMxs

>They had just started a magical parking system there: you get an unforgeable ticket, they teleport your car somewhere and give it back for a few euros when you return the ticket

>After the car is taken care of, we walk towards the back of the 30 or so people queue

>A lot of couples obviously there for the same reason as you, but also many celibate men, for reasons I can imagine

>Just before reaching the queue, we spot a ridiculous (and probably unnecessary) sign saying "Mandatory hand-holding for couples" hanging on the top the portal's stone arch, look at each other's face and start getting uncontrollable giggles

>Perfect cure for our nervousness

>Then I thought we would just wait our turn to cross the portal, like everybody here

>Not us, Morgane flashes her family seal to one of the clerks who makes us cut in front of the peons, like an amusement park fast pass

>My tomboy had changed on that front since being deflowered, having gained much more teasing resistance (sad!) and assurance

>A new side effect was the clear acceptance of her status and its advantages

>Basically she went from 8 parts tomboy 2 parts ojou-sama to half-half or so

>Not that I disliked this "interesting" mix, as her new teasing resistance was inversely proportional to the damage taken, since ojou-samas weren't supposed to have such a weakness

>Enough thinking about my wife, we're about to be engulfed by the portal's white light

>Hand-holding, as instructed, we close our eyes and step through it

>When we open them, the shock is astounding

"...the fuck?" we both say, even Morgane adopting my crude vocabulary

>There's a small but bustling "city" built entirely for commercial purposes sprawling in front of the landing zone, like an airport's duty free shopping area

>Dozens of a never-seen-before combinations of a love hotel and match-making service with gaudy signs saying "Wife guaranteed! Free for men!" with a much smaller "Partner choice not guaranteed"

>Some of them even advertised the use of "infallible" mana matching spells

>Most sported danukis rubbing their hands while watching queues of men not choosen during the DotR advance slowly

<"Danukis... I should have foreseen it, in retrospective." she sighs

>But even through her annoyed sigh, I can hear some relief in just seeing the (I suppose) usual hijinks of her world

>After the shock from this strange carnival passes, Morgane leads me by the hand to a nearby teleporter shop

>Like Morgane's first car ride, it's my turn to tremble when walking towards the circle on the ground

>She interlocks her fingers with mine with a little impish smile as we cross the outer line (couple teleporting is more expensive, but she didn't care)

>We arrive instantly, a bit dizzy, as warned

>I closed my eyes during the trip, but curiosity prods me now: what would I have seen if I hadn't?

>Well, I'll probably have more occasions later on

>Morgane uses her family name once again to rent a coach to her house without paying

>During the short trip, she coaches me a bit about her family, while I change into my "nice clothes"

<"If we want Mother to fully accept you, you'll need a bit of panache. I know it's not your thing, but give it a try. I'll give you some help on that part."

"Are you just going to brag about the ocelomeh thing again? You know it's embarrassing..." I sigh

<"Why would that be embarrassing? You should be proud of yourself!"

<"Anyway, it's the truth, and I'm proud of it enough for both of us, so you'll have to get used to it, darling." she teases

<"For Father, no problem, your personalities should match; he's quite the intellectual."

>A few minutes more and we disembark in front of the macabre looking gates

>Well, "macabre" like a Scooby-Doo set prop, to be honest

>A slightly klutzy kikimora recognises Morgane and opens the gate in wonderment of her new "accessory"

>My first time seeing one, which is a good excuse for the urge to touch I got when seeing her fluffy wrist feather bundles

>After a bit of talk with Morgane, she starts staring at me with untamed curiosity



>Shit, she didn't learn English like Morgane and her family

>I bow my head to try to convey my greeting, creating even more confusion

>Morgane drags me by the hand, thankfully stopping my shameful tourist behaviour

<"What are you doing, Jean? Get a grip."


>We traverse the beautiful gravel alley under the ever-cloudy sky, the maid watching us all the way with eyes like teacups

>Once in front of the massive door, we both quick check each other a last time

>I jokingly fiddle with a lock of her hair, as if it were in disarray

>My reward is one of the small smiles she gives me when she's teased while overly happy or excited

>She uses the bronze knocker and we wait, all jittery

>The door is opened by what is obviously the Brumesang matriarch

>Which, after a moment of suprise, rushes into Morgane's arm

"Morgane! If you knew how much I worried since you didn't bother to reply to my letter! Thank Maou, you're safe!"

>I look at my embarrassed wife returning her mother's hug, standing there, feeling a bit left aside by the language barrier

>When the effusions finally stop, her mother stands back and tries to restore her dignity before looking at me

"So you're the famous Jean Dupont? I am Viviane, Morgane's mother." she says in English with a very heavy accent

"Famous, not so much, but I am a "Jean Dupont". Nice to meet you." I quip nervously

>An awkward pause follows, during which she inspects me, stroking her chin with an appreciative smile

"Ara ara, even better looking than in the photograph, Mor." she slowly utters in the native language

>Even if I don't understand the words, her tone makes it obvious what this is all about

>Best to say nothing and give her the discomfort she's fishing for in this kind of situation

>Maybe she's asserting her position in the teasing chain?

<"Let's switch to English, Mother, this isn't very fun for Jean."

"Right. Well, enough banter, you're just in time for lunch."

"You better get Jean a permanent language spell this afternoon, I won't stand English in my house much longer."


>We enter and I freeze for a spell before picking up my fallen eyeballs

<"Welcome to the modest Brumesang mansion, Jean."


>This makes Carmilla's castle in Vampire Hunter D: Bloodlust look small

>Fortunately, my new mother-in-law notices my unease and make us eat in the "smaller" kitchen

>She had cooked a delicious roast beef she had fortunately started hours ago, having made enough for all of us by luck

>Just before seating herself, she goes away to scream "Daaaaaarling! Lunch is served!"

>A middle aged, nondescript man in casual clothes and loafers arrives a minute later

>When he sees Morgane, a beaming smile lightens his face

"Finally home? Oh, we have a guest?"

"Dear, this is Morgane's chosen, Jean Dupont."

>He looks at me, stunned by the news

"P-pleased to meet you." I say, extending my hand

"No no, the pleasure is mine" he answers while shaking hands, still thoroughly confused

>Ms Brumesang serves us before she and her husband sit with us

"So, son, what do you do in life?"

"I work as a computer programmer."

"Computer? Oh, those calculation engines from the other world. Heard about them a few days ago."

"So you're some kind of researcher?"

"More like a mix between researcher and craftsman, to be honest."

"I see..." he says, seemingly satisfied by my answer

"And, what do you think of our Morgane?"

>Shit, a surprise attack

"S-she's the most wonderful woman in the world is what I think." I stutter, knowing I have to be sincere at this time

"Is that so?" he says, both he and his wife looking at each other with a grin

>Lunch then begins in relative silence

"Delicious, Ms Brumesang, even better than my mother's."

"Oh, please Jean, you can call me Viviane." she says, obviously happy that her cooking skills were praised

"Will do."

<"I agree, you've never made such dishes while I was there. Almost as if you knew we were coming."

>Nah, I can't imagine her fawning over Morgane being a feint

"So, Mor, how was your adventure? How did you two meet? What do you like about each other?" she says, ignoring her daughter's last implication

<"I think it's better we wait for a bigger meeting to avoid repeating this long tale."

>Ho-ho, she prefers to boast in front of a bigger stage

"Perfect! Let's have the wedding next week!" she says with excitement

>Morgane and I choke simultaneously

<"That fast!?"

"Well, what are you acting all flustered for? After all, you're already "married", aren't you? This is just a pretty reception on top." she says, clearly fishing for more fluster

>And she gets it, Morgane's so red she's reaching boiling point

>Viviane and I look at each other and share a conniving smug, both of us recognising a proper connoisseur in the other

<"Mom! Please, stop that! Not in front of Jean!" she almost cries

"Oh, but he seems quite used to our little tomato already, I don't see the harm."


"Yes, yes, I'll stop. For now." shit-eating grin slowly fading

"Still, the wedding bit was serious. And you'll have the audience you want."

<"I guess you're right, we don't have any reason to postpone it."

"I'll have to inform my parents, do you know if cross-world postal services are fast enough?" I say, finally breaking my amused silence

"Don't worry, we'll dispatch private messengers for such an occasion."

>Damn richfags

>Wait, I'm technically going to become a richfag too

>We finish the meal with some premium yeti made pistachio ice cream that surpasses any ice cream I've ever had

>Then Morgane takes me to a sorceress she's acquainted with to stop imposing English on my interlocutors


>We enter the small shop, Morgane acting strangely restless

>The owner, an older woman with long blond hair sitting behind the counter raises her eyes from her book

>She looks at Morgane, then me, then goes back to Morgane who started blushing a bit

"Ara ara, what do we have here?" she says through a wide smile

>Man, Morgane really is the perfect scratching post for foxes like her mother and this sorceress

<"Circe, you already know this, but here's my husband, Jean." in English

"Oh, are you the "Circe" we owe our miraculous encounter to?"

"In part, yes."

"Well, consider me as obliged."

<"M-me too!"

>Hehe, can't have a commoner with better manners than hers

"Who knows, I may have to collect one day. As Morgane knows, I'm fond of very personal requests."


<"No! Please, not that!" switching back to native

"Don't worry, I know when not to cross the line, miss. Especially with nobility."

>Curiosity status: aroused

<"Erm, we've come to get Jean a language spell."

"Translation or comprehension? Duration?"

<"Comprehension and permanent, of course, the Brumesang aren't stinky when it comes to this."

"Should've guessed. Come back in hmmm... one hour, it'll be ready."

<"Come Jean, she says the spell will be ready in one hour, let us stroll a bit in the meantime."

>Morgane takes me by the hand to a nearby vampire cake shop, ignoring the thirsty stares of the surrounding maidens

>I see a some candy and toy shops, a few cafés and a lot of clothing stores

>Obviously the rich part of the town, everything so neat it's spooky

>Then she stops in front of a gothic and clearly out-of-place wooden house

<"Beware, some of the girls in here can be a bit agressive."

>Morgane pushes the door, which gives a carefully cultivated sinister creak, squeezing my hand quite hard

>Is this some game of chicken, showing her trophy in front of the jealous beasts?

>Inside, there's a long glass showcase slash counter hosting the cakes and half a dozen tables to eat your treat with a drink

>There's a woman and her husband manning the shop, a teenager finishing her purchase and a group of three girls of Morgane's age at a table

>The silence could be cut with a knife, four pairs of hungry eyes staring like lasers at us

>Silence which is ruined by me getting a serious case of giggles when seeing the decorum

>Everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, was painted red and/or black; there were even a few spider webs

>Almost like toy stores during Halloween

>Morgane's reddened face darts around while she orders me to stop

>I manage with difficulty and we walk slowly to the counter

>The young vampiress crosses us quickly with red eyes riveted to my neck, licking her fangs

>Morgane and the owners, who instantly remind me of Gomez and Morticia Addams, start talking in the language I'll soon be able to understand

>From the tone of it, it's just Morgane apologising for my laughter followed by the usual "here's my new husband" and teasing from the adults

>When the woman looks at me with her (probably natural) bedroom eyes, I give a little nervous bow, this time interpreted correctly and answered with an "Ara ara" look

<"Jean, let us pick a piece of cake each. Ignore those on the right with a red price tag, they contain blood."

>I choose one looking like a tarte tropézienne and Morgane picks a very dark chocolate marquise

>After hearing her choice, the group of girls starts gossiping noisily

>Maybe Morgane disregarding the blood cakes was a taunt meaning "I've already got all the blood I need right there"?

>Once seated with a big glass of milk each, we start eating

"God! This is the best cake I've ever tasted! So much better than the sugar filled desserts of my world."

"Just perfect..." I say with my eyes closed

>We indulge in a bit of lovey dovey cake sharing with our spoons across the table, before a noisy chair rattle interrupts

>One of the literally salivating girls had gotten up and was walking towards us, her long blond hair floating in her wake

>She stops and screams at Morgane while pointing at me with a trembling index finger, obviously not taking well to the taunting

>Morgane just smiles and calmly replies, like an adult handling a child's tantrum

>A little "shoo" movement of her hand makes me guess a "if you can't handle it, just walk away" type of comment

>The blondie is literally shaking right now, completing the perfect picture of the chad nosferatu vs the virgin draculina

>Said virgin clearly senses the power level difference, making her and her sexually frustrated friends flee the store, almost leaving a snail trail of pussy juice

>Man, it must have been hard for the poor girls, knowing firsthand how ridiculously high mamono libido is

"Did you really need to rub their faces in it, like this?"

<"You don't know them, Jean, there were amongst the first to hang "vampire tomboy" on my neck."

"Is that wrong, though?"

<"That's not the point!" she says with a raised voice, flushed

"I know, I know..." with a smile

>After finishing our treats in peace, Morgane waves the owners goodbye and we go back to Circe's shop

>Circe, who was waiting for us behind the counter, leads us to the back room, where a stool is set on a small but incredibly dense chalk magical circle

>I'm instructed to sit on it and wait

>Absolutely nothing happens


>After a minute or so, Circe makes me stand



>She didn't speak in English, but I understood perfectly

>As if I had always spoken this language, no memories left of ever not knowing it

>The shock makes me collapse in a nearby chair

>I start to panic, disgusted and fascinated by the unfamiliar feeling of my mind having been tampered with

>Morgane hugs a petrified me, my brain horribly confused by the "memory graft" still taking

"Ah, memory alteration spells can induce such reactions. Morgane, continue holding him, he should be fine once he adapts to the weirdness." Circe sighs

<"There, Jean, everything will be fine." she says while patting my head, a bit of panic in her own voice

"And don't speak to him, the use of his new knowledge will make his brain "itch" even more."


>A few minutes and I can finally stop mentally scratching my graft scar tissue

>I look at Circe, then Morgane before opening my mouth to test it

"I'm fine, Morgane. Except that it still feels extremely weird and my mouth isn't used to it, yet".

<"You gave me quite the scare, Jean!"

"I'm the one who was scared! Hope the sensation will fade fast, it's still unnerving."

>Circe stands up and clasps her hands

"So, what will be the payment, this time, miss?" she says with a wide grin

<"W-what do you want?"

>Circe pauses a bit, still smiling, to let Morgane imagine the worst

"How about you invite me to your wedding?"

<"Of course. It happens to have been scheduled next week." she answers with a breath of relief

"Perfect! I could even find a husband if men from the invaded world are invited."

<"Knowing Mother, her army relations and the style of celebration she wants, I'm sure there'll be some men."

>Not many celibates, though, but maybe she'll get a recommendation for the husbands' friends

>Chatter ends and we depart, this time both of us able to take our leave properly


<"Now that this is done, how about I give you a small tour of the academy?"

"You really want to show me around, don't you?"

<"Of course!" she replies with a roguish smile

>We promptly return to the teleporter shop and go to the academy, Morgane talking about her various classes

>Quite practical, the academy has a dedicated teleporting circle so no need to walk much further

>The gilded fence and the perfect shrubbery lined brick pathway we follow along it are blinding to my peasant's eyes


"Morgane, this a school for "rich" people, right?"

<"Well, yes. But the science and military departments do skill based admission; and skill is required for ojou-samas to stay."


>Aristocracy with a proper social elevator going both ways, nice

>As we approach the gates, we start to experience the now usual staring and furtive whispering

>Only this time, the number of spectactors is massive; probably due to the lack of married girls in an academy

>We advance, Morgane holding my hand a bit tighter than usual

>When we reach the massive gate itself, a small crowd can be seen surrounding something else than us

>A loud "oh oh oh" rises from said something

<"Oh, no..." sighs a nervous Morgane


>A graceful and very ladylike wight, complete opposite of my tomboy, sights us and approaches vigorously, her robe à la française fluttering about

>And a dandy but tired looking man she drags behind her

>Once standing quite tall over us, she unleashes a smug smile

"What's that, Morgane? You managed to find a man desperate enough to settle for you?"

>I can almost hear Morgane's teeth grinding, but she swallows it, seemingly used to the taunting wight

<"I don't have time for your childishness, Claire, let us be in peace."

"Are you okay with your "wife", mister? Such a gloomy and unladylike tomboy, colder than her undead status can excuse."

"Not to mention her lacklustre bossom, I don't see how she could satisfy you." she says, hiding her smile behind a paper fan

"I'm more than fine with my beautiful wife, thank you very much." I drily reply while squeezing Morgane's hand

>Her silent husband (I suppose?) has an apologetic look mixed with a "don't bother" message in his eyes

<"Jean, don't entertain her, she's not worth the effort."

"You know, you don't have to lie just because you're with her. Do you fear she's going to drain you as punishment?"

"I have plenty of friends who would love to take her place, you just have to ask." she ends with a wink

>I can only give a profound sigh of disgust and start to go away, leading a defeated looking Morgane away from her tormentor

>After a few feet, I give a last audible dig to preserve a bit of honour

"Is nobility always that crass in your world? Wouldn't have guessed so from your own refinement."


>We turn to face her last burst, not wanting to be remembered as fleeing before her

"What does a pathetic commoner from a degenerate world thinks he knows, from the height of his dwarfish stature?"

"I'm sure even the tiny Morgane swooped a weakling like you without the least effort required!"

>I can feel Morgane trembling from anger through my hand

>She takes a tonitruous step, standing menacing like she did against the onis

>Claire takes a step back at the same time, obviously not used to the petite Morgane acting like the prideful vampire she actually is

"W-what? Did I hit a nerve?" she stutters, trying to hide her suprised fear

<"The man you're belittling with ignorance, Jean Dupont, may be a commoner, but he was one of the famed hermits Raven told us about."

<"When I met him, he was still a virgin having never known love, his standards too high to allow him solace."

>The stares are now directed at me, even with Morgane almost shouting her praises

>Claire's husband looks at me like I'm a Martian getting out of my flying saucer; probably a normalfag

<"And do you know what feat I witnessed him accomplish before "swooping" him?" she says smugly

>Oh boy, here we go

>Morgane waits a second or two, savouring the baited breath of her audience, even Claire unable to hide her riveted interest


<"He won a barehanded fight by submission against an ocelomeh who ambushed him for his purity." she manages through a shit-eating grin probably never seen before by her peers

>A long "ooooohhhhh" of awe ripples through the now sizeable assembly

>Even Claire can't help but furtively compare me to her man with a small look of disappointment

"I-I'm sure he's just a meathead, anyway! Not fit for real nobility like myself."

<"He's a computer expert, learned music amateur and philosopher." Morgane continues on her favourite subject, now on a roll

<"Can you say the same of your husband?"

>Claire looks despondent for the first time, searching for ammo to roast my smug wife

"W-well, he's small!"

<"Who cares? I'm small too! And smaller is cuter!"

>As the spat devolves into the woman's equivalent of a dick-measuring contest, I reach to Claire's man, just to discuss a bit with a fellow soon-to-be-noble

"Hey, man. Liking your new fate?"

"Oh, hello. Yes, hard not to, right?"

"Right, right. Jean Dupont, from Montpellier. You?" I say while we shake hands

"Sir Andrew Smith, from one of England's last real houses."

"Oh, first time meeting a noble from our world. What do you mean by "real"?"

"Don't let it bother you, I'm a small countryside noble and clearly not as "aristocratic" as some here. By "real", I mean one who didn't get there by peerage or gentry, but by having served under William the Conqueror." he spits with disdain

"I see."

"By the way, what is an "ocelomeh"? Seems like I was supposed to be quite impressed by hearing about it."

"Some kind of mexican jaguar woman. Not the biggest mamono but still strong and sharp, more on the lean and mean team than the bulldozer one." I answer, trying not to brag nor humble brag

"Bloody incredible, man! You're a beacon of hope for us mamono husbands." he says with admiration

"You trying to sell me something?" I ask warily, my social skills still creaking with rust

"No, no, I'm completely sincere."

"Hmmm... . On the subject of husbandry, how do you cope with your wife? Because, from what I see, she seems like - pardon my french - a real bitch."

>He laughs quite hard, attracting some of the attention before answering

"I know what you mean. But you can't even begin to imagine how she is when we're alone. An adorably submissive kitten who wants to be petted while crying about her personality and how she doesn't have any real friend."

>My my, that does sound worth the effort, I think while nodding with a "not bad" expression



>The surrounding mamonos starting to pass his word around create a commotion that quickly rises to biblical proportions

>When it reaches Claire's ears, a scream like a chicken whose neck is being wringed covers the noise

"ANDREW! W-WHAT DID I TELL YOU?" erupts a completely red Claire

"Oh, sorry honey, I was just talking to Jean and-"

>She grabs him with her ghost arm and flees with tears of shame in her eyes


>Hope I'll be able to chat with him without going to the hospital

>The crowd starts to disperse as Morgane rejoins me with a refreshed look of victory

<"Ah, to finally see Claire in that state is more delicious than it has any right to be!" she says with a wide smile

"You've been waiting a long time for this, haven't you?"

<"Damn right!"

"Careful, your manners are slipping, dear."

<"Looks like we still got some time left for our interrupted visit." she replies after a little pouty elbow to my sides

>Visit which we resume with a giddy Morgane show(cas)ing me around the vast academy

>Until the sun starts to set, making us return home

>To complete our busy day, Viviane made us a wonderful lasagna dish that weighed pleasurably in our collective stomachs

>Which made drifting into a comfy and cuddly sleep (only sleep, this time) inside Morgane's big coffin all the easier


>I wake up feeling better than ever, having slept like a baby in her sumptuous "bed"

>Morgane's nuzzling against my neck, her regular breath tickling me a bit

>Already two weeks together, but I still can't get used to so much cuteness

>She somehow senses my awakening and stirs slowly before opening her eyes with a little smile

>I play a bit with her silky hair before we stretch lazily and exit the bed

>We slept for 11 hours, says my watch

>Damn, love and intimacy really are the cure for insomnia

"So, what do we do, today? I mean, except deciding who to invite to the wedding."

<"Don't worry about that, Mother is taking care of it. And I doubt you'll invite more than your family, right?"


"You do know the past me."

<"Since you now can converse properly, let's meet with Brünhilde and Charbon after lunch."

"Good idea."

>I can mentally hear a small switch clicking in the distance at the mention of Charbon

>Hmmm, where did I hear that name?

>My thinking is interrupted by Viviane knocking on the door and announcing through it that lunch is ready

>Morgane answers that we'll soon be ready

>God, how much I've missed the child's life of just having to wake up and putting my feet under the table

>We quickly wash and clothe ourselves before joining Viviane in the kitchen

"What delights do you offer today, mother-in-law?" I lay thickly, knowing my audience

"Morgane told me of your favourite dish, so I tried my hand at it." she answers with a big smile, ears twitching a bit

>What could it be? Flemish stew? Goulash? Brandade de morue? Tartiflette?

>She brings an immense pot of beef bourguignon with extra thick broth and serves us fat portions with mashed potatoes before sitting with us

>Is this heaven?

>We strafe our plates before asking for seconds which we savour with more manners

>The dessert is also one of my favourites: Norman tart with a globe of vanilla ice cream

>While ending the gustatory orgy with a bit of tea, I shower Vivane with well-deserved praises

"Honestly, Viviane, you're as good as my maternal grandmother, and this is the best compliment I can give to a cook."

"Oh, stop the flattery, Jean!" she swoons, hiding her face in her hands

>After a bit of digestive rest, we head to the neighbouring Finster moor, Morgane seemingly knowing her friend's schedule by heart

>The matriarch welcomes us as warmly as a banshee can muster, even offering her species' legendarily rare smile to Morgane

"Looks like I won't have to console a certain crying vampire no more." she teases


>The lack of reaction to her bait weirds her visibly, but she quickly regains composure

"You're here to see Brünhilde, right? I'm sure we'll have more time to talk at your wedding."

>We climb the stairs quietly with the idea of surprising Brünhilde in her room

>Can already recognize Clan of Xymox blasting through her door


>Morgane violently opens the door with glee

>Hoist by our own petard we are, as the suprise is entirely ours

>Her room is the musical equivalent of Lain's: a few big computers, thousands of CDs and books, posters everywhere

>Can even notice a pair of big ME Geithain speakers and that her computer isn't running Wangblows

>She's basically an Earth otaku, now

<"B-Brünhilde, you have guests..."

>She finally turns in her Aeron chair to face us, joy in her eyes

"MORGANE!" she shouts while running to embrace her

"If you knew how much I've missed you!"

>Repeat of the first day, I just wait awkwardly while Morgane is being smothered

<"Where's your husband, Bru?"

"Oh you know, he's assistant teacher since the invasion, lots of positions left vacant."

>After a good ten seconds, Brünhilde releases her and notices my presence

"H-Hello." I tentatively greet

>She looks at Morgane, at me, then at Morgane again, whose cheeks redden a bit

"Jean, I presume?" she says with a big grin


"That explains Morgane "radiating" happiness..." says the smug banshee


"S-so, you like music? Morgane told me so before going to you." says a fidgeting Brünhilde

"I certainly do."

"Let me show you my stuff!" she says before rushing to her computer like a kid who wants to impress her dad

>Morgane rolls her eyes with a smile and we sit on her sofa to indulge her

>Her taste is certainly like Morgane described, now even including dark ambient and other gloomy sounds

>I can't help but reveal my power level a bit and make her play some Ultima Thulée while I give some more recs

>After some reflexion, I fill her backlog with some early Manes, Forgotten Woods, Unholy and Mütiilation to fill her collection's lack of black metal

>We continue to chat, mainly small talk since Morgane says "The big story" will be told at the wedding

>At 4 PM, Morgane sends a letter using some kind of magical letterbox to notify Charbon of our coming

>A few minutes later, a positive reply arrives and we set off

>During the short walk to Charbon's, I try to think about the strong déjà vu I got when hearing her name

>Charbon, hellhound, shy... feel like I almost got it

>We reach the humble cabin... well, maybe not "cabin", but still far from the Brumesang and Finster scale

>Brünhilde knocks and the door is almost immediately opened by an excited Charbon who was obviously waiting for us

>Normal reaction for my first time this near to a hellhound: that's a 'big' dog

>Morgane gets another (fluffy) reunion hug and we're led to the salon by the tail-wagging hellhound

>Where an average but alert looking man is already seated

>When he sees Morgane, he almost jumps in his armchair


>Must be afraid of vampires, I guess

>We join him in the remaining armchairs and couch while Charbon fetches some tea and cake slices

>After seating herself, she proudly presents him while taking his hand

"This is Jules, my husband!"

"H-hello, everyone." he greets through his teeth, his hand bones audibly grinding

<"Pleased to meet you. Why did you startle when seeing me?"

>Yeah, good question from my unsubtle tomboy

>He gives me a nervous glance before licking his lips


"...I've just remembered seeing a photo on the net showing you in a different light."


>Morgane is staring a hole at me, clearly waiting for explanations

"C-can't I showcase my perfect wife to the world? This is completely normal for us! Right, Jules?"

>I unleash all the eloquence my eyes are capable of to transmit "you better save my back, fucker, or I'll tell about Charbon's picture"

"Of course! Nothing out of the ordinary!" he quickly answers, sweating bullets

>A squinting Morgane slowly lets it go before an unaware Charbon saves my bacon by steering the discussion elsewhere

"I've heard of your little altercation with Claire. Please give me the juicy details!"

<"Oh, nothing to it really. I just got to see Claire cry of shame..." she tells, almost salivating at the memory

>While she gets going, Jules uses his secret technique to get us alone

"I'm going for a smoke, darling. Coming, Jean?"

>Apparently, the smell of tobacco is quite repulsive to mamonos

>Once we're more or less sure the girls aren't eavesdropping, he looks seriously at me

"/monster/, right?"

"Right, gets thread."

>A grin simultaneously grows on our faces, together with small tears of joy

"It was worth waiting for it, right?" he asks in French

"Damn right, worth all the pain in the world." I answer while tapping on his shoulder

>We spend a little time discussing about the sekrit club and gloating about our waifus-now-wives

>He also works in tech, so we joke a bit about "hellnigs lusting after intellectual white boys" while he congratulates me on my get

>We also wonder about our future noble status, savouring the liberation from wageslaving like two war veterans sipping beer in front of a summer sunset

>When we go back, Jules does a little act to ruse the women

"I'm pretty sure me and this guy are going to be good friends!"

"Yeah, we were almost neighbours back home, can you believe it?"

>From Morgane's embarrassed look and the laughing eyes of the two others, they weren't discussing the weather either

>The afternoon is slowly spent chatting and eating Charbon's delicious homemade sweets

>We even played a game of Monopoly Jules had brought with him in a fit of ingenuity

>Had to translate it from French, but it was worth it

>After Charbon's win via her complete control of the train stations and everything from the Avenue de Breteuil to the dreadful Champs-Élysées/Rue de la Paix combo, we depart home

>Morgane and Brünhilde's night vision sure is useful in this new moon, Morgane not missing the opportunity to guide me by the hand

>Today was another good day to be alive


>Fast forward a few peaceful days to the night of the wedding

>Quite logical for undead weddings to be after dusk, but I can still remember Mom's and Dad's letters asking if it wasn't a mistake

>Fifteen minutes to midnight, time of the ceremony

>In a room with Morgane's father helping me understand how my ceremonial clothes work

>Clothes I'm putting on while remembering Morgane's hand wringing at all the prodding the arachne family tailor did during her measurements

>It isn't Louis XIV tier, but still way too complex for a 21th century man like me

>At least I was going to look good

"Done! Hope I won't have to wear that everyday from now on!"

"Haha, don't worry about that, Jean, I'd leave for Zipangu before agreeing to this."

>The tone is light, but he knows I'm just hiding the stress

>I mean, my first encounter with Morgane isn't even a month away, I'm not mentally ready for a reception with more than a hundred participants

>Never even went to a party, man, what do you expect from me?

>I want to check my wristwatch constantly, forgetting that I put my cheap Casio away for today

>The wall clock says I have five minutes left before drowning hundreds of innocents in a tidal wave of spaghetti

>A few long breaths and I feel (a bit more) prepared

>It is time

>Morgane's father (whose name I don't even know, I now realise) and I hurry to the back of the immense garden

>Said garden is illuminated by thousands of floating red candles arranged in invisible chandeliers giving a diffuse, almost mystical lighting

>He quickly goes to the front of the massed audience while I wait for Morgane in front of the red carpet

>I've been coached a bit about this world's customs, but I'm still amazed by the almost military discipline of the throng

>It's apparently considered very rude for the audience members to look at the bride and groom walking to the altar

>Morgane arrives seconds after me, having a bit of trouble managing her dress' heavy layers

>Damn! I forgot my weakness to traditional clothing...

>Gotta get a grip

>Even better than her chinese dress at our restaurant outing

>I can almost see her heart pupils when she glances at my flamboyant pimp styling

>She takes my hand and we begin the slow and dignified walk towards Eros' altar, our footsteps making a muffled sound on the thick carpet

>Pretty sure we look more nervous than dignified, but whatever

>We finally reach the strangely pink angel presiding over the ceremony

"We're united during this fateful night to unite two souls into one under Eros' watchful guidance." she immediately starts with

"So that they can become indivisible in joy, lust and love."

>Shit, I wasn't ready for psychological attacks like these

"And live happily ever after and have a lot of healthy children."

>She waits a bit then recite the traditional formulae

"Jean Dupont and Morgane Brumesang, have you come here freely and without reservation to give yourselves to each other in marriage?"

"Will you honor each other as man and wife for the rest of your lives?"

"Will you accept children lovingly from Eros and bring them up according to his law?"



>We can now carefully recite the vows that work the magic that literally binds us

"I, Jean Dupont, take you, Morgane Brumesang, to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life."

<"I, Morgane Brumesang, take you, Jean Dupont, to be my husband. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life."

>Here comes the mandatory (no, really) kiss in front of the audience

>Can feel the spaghetti surge from my pockets but I do my best to answer the expectations

>I turn to face her and lose myself in her cute upturned face overflowing with pure joy, small tears of happiness shining in the corners of her eyes

>My stress melts like ice in hell under the overwhelming strength of our mutual love

>Morgane passionately seizes my head between her hands while I awkwardly put my arms around her back

>And we kiss like in a cheesy movie, with passion but without lust

>After what felt like hours, we break our embrace (and try to avoid any unsightly string of saliva) before facing the audience, holding hands like we fear losing each other

>Thunderous clapping concludes the formal ceremony while we bow

>The reception can now start, with the chamber music band starting to play and classy snacks, wine, human blood and other beverages going around

>Now, it's time for Morgane to show me off to everyone at least once, something I'm quite used to by now

>But I take the initiative and present her to my family first

>Quite easy to find, they're all forming a little group obviously apart from the the rest, intimidated by the nobles

>I take Morgane's hand and gleefully bring us to the small circle

>They don't even see us coming, as they already have quite a lot to discuss amongst themselves

>From the look of it, Mom became a harpy, quite fitting for the extrovert chatterbox she is, and it looks like my stepfather didn't mind at all

>My little brother managed to come from Quebec with his girlfriend that I never met before now a pale blond yeti towering over him

>On the other hand, my annoying stepmother didn't monsterize and was obviously quite jealous of the two others

>Her son, with whom I have fond teenage memories, is accompanied by his wife, transformed from the nerdy and natural redhead I remember into a homely troll

>I was at his own wedding a year ago, wanting to die from his happiness hitting my lassitude like sun rays burning a vampire

>What a change

>I tap on his shoulder to let him know they have company

"Jean!" they shout in unison

>Almost everyone looks at me with wonder and relief, having always been a bit sad for the lonely black sheep of the family, out of touch from being too classical for this modern world

>Mother is even crying, she was probably the most pained by my despair

>The men just sincerly smile, feeling a bit of the happiness I'm beaming without restraints

>After long effusions and a bit of discussion split between men and women, Morgane says that we mustn't neglect the other guests and pries us away from the mountain of questions


>A mind boggling number of presentations ensues, my mind now in fully automatic pilot

>I still try to remember new faces and names, but I know I won't be able to

>Real nobility did make a strong impression on me with its general character excellence, certainly far from Claire's behaviour and what republican propaganda wanted us to believe

>Guess the Brumesang are quite serious about raising their children and choosing their friends

>But there's one I still remember amongst the last we've seen

>A quite acidic cousin with long blond hair and very prominent fangs named Victoria

>From the glacial tone between her and Morgane, they must have a long history of serious hurt

>Once we're away, Morgane ominously tells me to beware of her, that there are some politics at play here


>2 AM, the banquet proper can start

>Long tables are installed and an uninterrupted stream of cooks brings king-like dishes from the mansion

>We all do it honour, happy to break our long fast

>Morgane takes the time to make me try some local cuisine by sampling a bit of everything along the table

>After an hour or so of dining and talking, I can notice that the crowd has substantially thinned

>Only close friends and family remain, giving a more manageable forty strong or so group

>Morgane uses this opportunity to gather everyone's focus using the ring of a small crystal bell

<"Please gather, friends and family, it is time for me to tell of my encounter with Jean so that I don't have to do it hundreds of time." she says loudly

>Collective laugh at Morgane's usual "manners" now coming back

>She seizes my hand to prevent my escape while various servants bring enough chairs for everybody

>We sit in the middle of an amphitheatre like formation and Morgane takes her sweet time singing our story, with a bit of decency filtering here and there, courtesy of the children listening with stars in their eyes seated on the ground in front of the adults

>When Morgane reaches her favourite part - you can guess which one -, she even gets up and starts to act the fight, lost in her enthusiasm

>As expected, once she finishes, a lot of stares locked on me, their owners certainly rethinking their first impression

>Not all of them in the same way, though, as the few teenage daughters and even some more mature women didn't even try to hide their envy

>But more worryingly, Victoria was sporting a Dick Dastardly look that didn't bode well for the near future

>After she's finished, Viviane uses our neat gathering as opportunity to announce that it is time for gifts

>Maria opens a very long scroll and starts to clamour each gift and its author before a servant presents it to the assembly

>Lots of beautiful dresses, jewellery and fencing equipment for Morgane

>Amusingly, we also got a lot of baby stuff, including a gothic looking wooden cradle and some vampire specific toys to occupy growing fangs

>This one got past Morgane's defences, putting a nice flush on her face to my and everyone's delight

>Maria, whose voice was starting to weaken, finally reaches the bottom of the list

>Everyone pooled their money to get me the Miata I had been saving for before the DotR; Viviane apparently asked my parents for ideas

>That's a richfag wedding for you

"And last but not least, from Viviane and Charles Brumesang, a domain and castle on Melancholia street!"

>A fucking castle!?

>I look at a similarly stunned Morgane and back to her parents

>When did they even build it? Must have been kept a secret for years...

<"I-I don't know what to say..." she says with a voice wavering with emotion

"Well, me neither. How about "thank you", for a start?" I quip back

<"You rogue! I've told you "not in front of everyone", yesterday!" squeals an embarrassed Morgane

>Everyone laughs once again at our manzai show

"Well, to stay serious a bit longer, I don't know how to thank all of you for showering us with such lavish gifts and more importantly, acceptance of the awkward commoner from a distant, decadent world into your ranks."

"You can count on me to not give you the opportunity to regret your choice."

>My little improvised speech is met with sizeable applause

>After that, the reception continues in a more toned down fashion, people leisurely discussing and eating dessert from the banquet tables


>Nature calls via another toilet run to the mansion's restrooms (big enough to be sex separated, like public ones)

>Business done, I wash my hands and exit the men's

>I barely have the time to take a single step outside before being brutally pulled by the wrist into the women's by an unknown assailant of formidable strength

>It's Victoria

"W-what are you doing!?"

"Well, the bottled blood wasn't fresh enough for my taste, you see..." she says with a thin veneer of humour

"You know Morgane won't stand for this, right?"

>Shit, I said that without thinking, invoking the name of my wife to protect me like a child fleeing to cry into his mother's skirt

>Don't remember the last time I felt shame, and certainly not something that strong

>My remark only prompts a loud laugh from her, though

"Hahahaha! You think I fear her? She's never been able to defeat me in matches."

"And once her precious man has been taken by another during their fucking wedding, I doubt she'll be able keep face amongst the clan." she continues with a mustache-twirling smile

>Huh, Morgane did say something about "politics"...

>She starts to approach casually, complete assurance of her physical dominance and my imminent surrender visible on her face

"Know what? I'm not such a bad girl I'd eat you without telling you why: Viviane Brumesang, the current clan matriarch, is going to relinquish her position next year. I'm sure you can figure out the rest, you're not stupid."

>Continuing to advance, basically face to face with me now

"So keep still and let it happen. As I'm sure you know, it won't hurt..." she says before licking her fangs, dilated pupils staring at my sweating neck

>I try a fast upward elbow that is denied with a ferocious punch to my torso

>Which makes me literally fly and collapse against the tiled wall, ass on the floor and head hanging like a drunk in a back alley

>Shit, why did Morgane have to warn her that I might try to defend myself?

>And why are vampires such Mary Sues?

"Tututut Jean, this won't work on someone like me." she smugly says while waving her index finger in a "no" gesture

>Try to play dead, maybe she'll panic a bit

>I can hear her still composed gait nearing, heels clacking on the stone floor

>When she's almost upon me, I crack open an eye just in time to see her bend down with hands on her knees

>I explosively raise my head, trying to hit her with a surprise attack and praying to encounter inexperience of real, dirty fighting

>A hand tries to reflexively parry, but too slow, the top of my skull smashes into her chin with satisfying feedback

>She follows my example and lands squarely on her (nice) buttocks

>Time to skedaddle, I pick up my hurting meat and prepare to run towards the exit

>But Victoria is no rooky to fighting, she's upon me just after I manage to stand up and binds me in a terrific frontal bear hug

"Hehe, n-nice trick Jean. My fault, I should have been more cautious. But as I see it, you're mine now."

>I can see a little blood trickle down her lips, she probably bit her tongue when I hit her

>Damn, is that all I'm capable of?

>She tilts her head, opens her mouth wide and slowly goes for the jugular, seemingly savouring the mix of fight adrenaline and lust flowing through her

>I almost feel myself give up when her cold fangs make contact with my skin

>Which is the exact moment Morgane chooses to open the door with precipitation

>Cartoon hero timing, as always

>She pauses for a tenth of a second during which the air in the room becomes colder than the Cocytus

<"You bitch. I knew you'd try something." she coldly enunciates through a bloodthirsty rictus while calmly closing in

>Victoria lets go of me like a potato bag and turns towards my menacing wife just in time to receive a full body weight front kick in the stomach

>Her turn to kiss the wall and slump to the ground, puking her share of the banquet on the ground and herself

>An ice cold Morgane picks her up by a thick fistful of blond hair as if it were a weed to pull out and drags her out of the room without much resistance

>As much as I'd like to rest, I force myself to follow them, knowing I'd miss something otherwise

>She exits the mansion and heads towards the altar, Victoria now cursing and hissing like a boiling cat, trying to free herself from Morgane's grip without success

>Complete silence only broken by Victoria's thrashing washes over the crowd once its full attention is captured

>Even the hired musicians stopped playing

>Morgane, with the face of someone on a mission from God, continues up the red carpet, completely ignoring her cousin's feeble flailing

>She stops in the middle of the steps to the altar, puts Victoria's belly on her lap, flips her dress and raises a hand

>A memorable spanking is thus given, without much restraint in strength from the deafening sound we can hear

>After a few dozen slaps and a bottom so red it looks like a baboon's, Morgane discards the snivelling shell of a vampire and stands up

>She slowly sweeps the perfectly silent audience with her eyes, taking in the reactions while they stare back

<"This wretch tried to feed upon my husband in an attempt to discredit me in the matriarch succession." she clamours in a strong, composed oratorical tone

<"She went as far as attacking the object of my love the day of our wedding, to which she was graciously invited."

<"As such, consider this light punishment a token of my love for the Brumesang clan."

<"But make no mistake, death is what she deserves, and what I would have given her in other circumstances!"

>She pauses for dramatic effect and ends her declaration

<"Hear! The Morgane you knew is no more! I fully intend to inherit my mother's title and will spare 'no effort' to do so." she shouts even louder

<"Let Victoria be an example of what I'm capable of when faced with underhanded danukis with no concept of honour nor respect for Eros' domain!"

>Another pause and cold stare down with the mute assembly before ending on a smoother note

<"I think we can now end this reception. Except for one unpleasant guest, I greatly thank all of you for coming to witness our union, sharing our happiness and bringing such wonderful gifts! Good night." she says with a genuine smile contrasting with her still hard stare

>She then goes down the stairs directly to me, trying not to run to maintain her stoic front

>Loud whispering and incredulous faces follow her, some people decidedly modifying their succession prognostics

>We cross the garden at a measured pace until we're inside the mansion

>Once out of any sight, Morgane's legs suddenly buckle under her but I manage to catch the trembling mess she's become before she hits the ground

<"Hehe, s-sorry Jean, the party and this fit of blind rage did a number on your proud wife." she tries to joke

"Sorry? You saved my honour for the second time, no sorry accepted."

"Not to mention that you certainly made your political weight known with this theatrical stunt worthy of a greek tragedy."


"Can you really not walk?" I ask with a bit of concern

>She actually tries to stand up but her wobbly legs and furious blushing give me the answer before she can speak it

>Guessed so, she's not faking it; wouldn't be in line with her style

"I see. Well."

>I read her face and mind and give in to her obvious request: princess carry to the bedroom

>Which she indulges in, passing her arms around my neck and resting her head against my breast with a sleepy smile

>Once in front of the padded coffin, I thow her like a log and am rewarded with a little scream

>I decide to pamper her even more and remove her complicated clothes for her before doing the same with mine

>And end the "day" by joining my treasure in bed, facing her in a close embrace before we give in to intense emotional and physical tiredness


>I wake up in a daze with Morgane on top of me and a morning ironwood poking her thigh

>From my weakness, the blood around her lips and the look in her eyes, the culprit isn't far

"To what do I owe this assault, you blood junky?"

<"This is your punishement for yesterday, boy." she enigmatically answers


<"Do not think I didn't notice the tent you were pitching when Victoria's fangs were on your skin."

"T-this is a natur-"

>She puts her hand on my mouth to silence my pleading

<"I'll accept no excuses. And if this is indeed a "natural reaction", I'll have to cleanse your memories with appropriate measures, hehehe."

"Oh? And how will you manage that?" I tease her in return

<"Hmmm, I wonder..." she whispers with glee before grabbing my boner

"Uh oh, I'm not sure you have the required loicense to touch that, mademoiselle."

<"Loicense? What's that?"

>She bites me anew, long enough for banter to stop this time

>We consume our marriage once again

>And once again



>After an hour or so of afterglow, we get up to wash ourselves in her gigantic heated marble bath

>Hard to not take our time cuddling again in that paradise on earth

>Hope we weren't too loud during "wrestling" but the thickness of the stone walls is quite reassuring on that matter

>Viviane is out on business, so today, lunch is handled competently by the kikimoras

>Said kikis all congratulate Morgane on her official union and some of the single ones gave sighs of longing here and there

>I can understand, our Pure Love™ must be blinding to them

>Viviane comes back in the afternoon and brings us to our new home

>Due to Morgane's big umbrella slowing her progress against the wind, we took a bit of time to reach it

>We finally stand in front of the tastefully rusted iron gate

>A bit smaller and much more sober than the family stronghold, but still a damn castle

>The garden is more on the central Europe side, dark pines and a few oaks instead of the italian cypresses

>Emotions overwhelms us for the hundredth time while we fully absorb the feel of the place where we'll spend our lives, already imagining kids running in the garden

"Here's the key, Morgane" she says while handing her a heavy gilded key


>The key clunks in its hole and the gate opens with a screech

>We walk in a daze on the gravel alley to the front

>Viviane shows me the garage where my gift resides, along with a few precious barrels of gasoline

>Then she gives us a tour of the garden and its very nice stone pond in the back before getting to the main part

>The solid oaken door opens easily despite its evident weight

>Quite simple but not baren; evidently, the decoration's choice was left to us

>Big kitchen, long dining room, a cosy living room with massive central fireplace, servant quarters for two families and four singles on the ground floor

>A big underground cellar and training room can be accessed from a large staircase between the kitchen and dining room

>The second floor contains our royal looking chambers and bathroom, both of them already furnished

>We're also shown six guest rooms and an amazing twelve children rooms

>An opportunity I must not miss

"Wew, we have a lot on our plate!" I say hands on hips

<"I-Indeed." she mumbles while looking at her feet

>Predictable reaction that triggers a good natured laugh from Viviane and I, soon joined by the victim herself

>We finish the visit seated in the living room, where Viviane tells us we can move when we want to and that staffing will mostly be taken care of by the numerous daughters of the very active kikimoras already in service


>We made the move a few days after, taking a good month to install ourselves comfortably

>It took a full month mainly because Viviane couldn't let go of her little draculina and had to visit almost every two day

>Not that I disliked it, I may have some deep emotional want for such a doting stepmother since my parents and I were never really close

>Our honeymoon continued its energetic pace while Morgane was finishing her studies

>She got offered a prestigious sword instructor position at the academy, position which thankfully didn't require much time out of her, as her technique was reserved to the few species capable of holding a sword with her strength but with a similar humanoid build

>As for I, I lived the dolce vita for a few months, basically doing what I was doing in my old life, minus the work and depression

>I could even further my cooking "talent" and teach some of my recipes to the servants, much to Morgane's delight who liked my heavy stews very much

>Until I decided that this was enough and convinced the academy rector that computer science and programming classes were in order

>At that point, Morgane discovered that she was pregnant and decided to keep her lessons more on the theoretical side until she's forced to stay home for the last stretch

>I received a bit of "professor training" and spent a month to craft the start of my curriculum based on the history of computers and operating systems, defining theories like Boole's logic or lambda calculus and Turing machines

>Fortunately, it looks like our mathematics were already quite similar, including our notations

>Either humanity's achievement are actually shared with mamonos or interdimensional plagiarism isn't new

>Then onto the good old "Introduction to Algorithms" for a few gruelling months

>A few students dropped out in favour of the new Magitech courses, some to remain in pure magical/alchemical studies, but I still had a fervent following of twenty students infatuated with computers

>Mainly gremlins from nouveau riche families and a few young men, but still got the odd bespectacled undead, hakutaku or alp

>I finally rewarded their assiduity by getting to the meat of the matter: programming

>A mixed course of RISC assembly, POSIX C, SML and Scheme (through a R7RS adapted SICP) that should take a good two to three years

>I took a bit of leave in the meantime to herald the birth of our first child, a boy we decided to name Auguste in honour of the great emperor

>Morgane was elected matriarch of the clan by unanimity but a month later

>After the first year, some students were already good enough to teach the new promotion, letting me continue with the students I already knew

>This perfect life continued for years

>Morgane is now a revered leader handling most political matters for our vampire extended family and the most renowned instructor in her art, her rare masterclasses highly sought-after by ochimusha, lizardman and vampire ojou-samas

>Me a researcher teaching when I want to now developing MamonoLisp aka MMLisp with a few old students and some Smug Lisp Weenie comrades nabbed by hellhounds from the old world to finally put the last nail into Common Lisp's coffin

>And I still got the time to lift while Morgane could devour Earth literature; not to mention the occasional long evening spent listening to music while cuddling in front of the fire

>All the while gifted with six healthy daughters which filled our lives with great joy; especially Morgane, who became a happy housewife in the image of her mother

>We named them all after characters of the Arthurian legend, to not break the family trend: Iseult, Guenièvre, Caelia, Brisène, Élaine and Morgause

>Their mother given character didn't make it always easy, but Viviane was more than happy to help us, even giving us free weekends here and there

>Our love and joy still doesn't fade, our son soon marrying while I don't look one day older than the me from the start of this adventure, courtesy of vampire mana bullshit

>I can still remember the pain but now hold these memories dearly, as they make today's sunlight much brighter


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Great job and I hope you do write again