[cw: Needles, oblique mention of genitalia and arousal, thoughts pregnancy, brief discussion of fascist violence and transphobia historical and present]

I ran my fingertips along the cold stone of the Underworld as we walked quietly, the rhythmic tapping of my broom on the ground the only other sound besides our bootsteps and my breathing. It was unsettling to know Camuel was behind me and to not be able to sense his life. I’d never really been around vampires for long enough to ever really notice that. A physical presence, but no vitality.

But Grandmother was watching him, and he hadn’t stabbed me in the back yet, so I felt safe enough.

“Sabrina…” he began, but was cut off as the playful, sped up electronic xylophones came blaring from my hip pocket.

“Spooky scary skeletons, send shivers down your spine”

I grabbed my phone and swiped the alarm off, leaning on the broom.

“Hold up,” I said, shrugging off my pack and sitting it against the wall. “Gotta take my meds.”

Camuel just stared at me for a moment.

“Meds?”

“Medication? You stayed dead, I didn’t.” Getting out of all my gear was so annoying. Too many belts and clasps. The heavy utility belt made a thunk on the stone floor. I pulled my med case out and sat against the pack’s frame. “Gotta keep this body in shape.”

With a shrug, Cam slipped his own pack off and placed it neatly beside him, preferring to stand. He crossed his arms. I rolled my eyes and snorted.

First the pills. Two of them, one little and blue, the other way too fucking big, like a little egg of collagen.. I popped them into my palm and downed them with a swig from my canteen.

“You have some sort of… disease?”

“Hah,” I said, nearly choking on the water. I dried my mouth off with my sleeve. “No.” I shook the bottles each in turn, “finasteride… and progesterone.”

“Oh.” He said flatly, though he remembered to blink, which is better than many other vampires I’ve met. “And what is it that they do?”

I gestured to my chest and arched my back. He averted his eyes and I couldn’t help but smirk. “They keep these up, mostly.”

“They give you breasts?” Cam asked, doggedly staring at my hat, save for a quick glance down.

I bet if he was alive he’d be blushing. I wonder if it would show up on skin that tan. The look on his face—or, really, the way he tried to avoid having a look—was certainly appealing.

“Yeah, Yaldabaoth didn’t see fit to give me any, so I had to take matters into my own hands.” Now the fun part. Pills away, time for the needle. And a little teasing. I could feel Grandmother tittering inside me. Always nice when she approves of my antics. “You know, I put so much effort into them it’s fine to take a peek.”

He looked down, face an impassive mask. “Yalda… that is the Gnostic Demiurge?”