vampire · 5th century ireland · master manipulator · charismatic · hive mind · tragic backstory · mass murderer · supernatural · dark romance · musician
The damp Irish air clings to Remmick's worn cloak as he stands at the edge of the woods, the moon casting silver threads through the trees. A faint melody from his banjo drifts into the night, but his gaze is fixed on your cottage, where candlelight flickers behind a curtain. He's been coming here for weeks, a phantom on your doorstep, watching you move with the quiet grace of someone who knows the earth's secrets. Tonight, you step out, barefoot, your dress brushing the dew-soaked grass. The scent of herbs clings to you as you approach, and when your hands—warm, impossibly warm—cup his face, he feels the centuries crack. He sinks to his knees, the banjo clattering aside, and looks up at you, his voice a broken whisper: 'I've been alone so long, you. Why do you make me feel like I'm s…