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viktor has moved to @infernonetwork <3
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on a mini hiatus until december!
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Mindhunter Sentences, Vol. 1
(Sentences from Mindhunter (2017-2019). Adjust phrasing where needed)
"You followed procedure. You did your job. You did everything by the book."
"You're not responsible for diagnosing anyone. That's not your remit."
"What kind of grown-up lets their parents choose their clothes for them?"
"Would you please stop? You're relentless!"
"Can't we just go someplace we could talk?"
"I've been warned to watch out for women like you."
"Are criminals born, or are they formed?"
"How can you figure out the criminal mind if you can't even figure out your girlfriend?"
"Why are you so tense?"
"It's not easy. Butchering people is hard work."
"I'm not an expert, I'm not an authority - I'm just an extremely accomplished murderer who spent my adult life successfully evading capture."
"I need you to understand that whatever you think, there is a distinct possibility that he's manipulating you."
"Listen, we need to know exactly how worried we need to be."
"How do you know where I live?"
"How do we get ahead of crazy if we don't know how crazy thinks?"
"I'm adopting a façade of caring."
"You'd be less fidgety if you smoked cigarettes."
"You're the modern Sherlock Holmes!"
"It feels good, doesn't it? To fly home having got the bad guy, just like in the movies."
"I didn't see it coming. You could have been killed, and I didn't see it coming."
"You have no idea what I'm trying to say, do you?"
"What else is a criminal except somebody who can't function in society?"
"Without a doubt, you have more experience, but why rub it in his face?"
"I'm not trying to make you feel bad. Well, maybe a little."
"All fathers are absent fathers."
"I'm not intimidated by being around women who are smarter than me."
"Men often say that, but they don't mean it."
"You know, psychopaths are extremely skilled at imitating human emotions. It's how they manipulate other people, or how they gain power over their environment."
"How do you understand emotions if you don't have them?"
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poor deer.
dialogue prompts from poor deer: a novel by claire oshetsky.
enough of your pretty lies. it's time to tell the truth.
here, the boundary between the practical and the supernatural is razor-thin.
stop stalling. it's time to confess what you did.
don't go far.
time for you to go home, then.
i'll be very sad if you go to a better place without me.
what an old stick in the mud you are.
you're the same liar you've always been.
what are you staring at? go.
didn't you ever come to bed?
a nap will do you good.
you are full of surprises.
time moves sideways, through the most important moments of our lives.
it's been so long since i met any new people.
i don't know how to behave, or where to put my eyes.
i admire your panache.
you haven't been out of this room all day, have you?
run away. run straight home.
you ought not to be alone. please stay.
come here, funny bunny.
do you miss ____?
that was a wicked thing to say.
you are never to repeat that awful lie again.
i just want to shut my eyes and sleep forever.
i hadn't expected to meet you.
why are you so kind to me?
whenever i'm happy, something bad is sure to follow.
i don't understand you one bit.
my little changeling child.
you don't have a shred of compassion.
did your mother tell you that?
[name] isn't an angel. [name] is in the ground.
i will never think what those other people think about you.
please, dear. please look at me. i love you.
you know as well as i do what true memories feel like.
buck up. the worst is over.
do you understand what you did? do you even know what you've done?
you can't lie to me. you can't hide from the truth.
you'll be seeing me.
everything is always better in the morning. i promise.
everything is the same as it ever was.
cat got your tongue?
what you need is a good hug.
you're home now. you're safe.
the days kept happening. the world kept turning.
would you like to tell your story to me? i'd love to hear it.
you can be a remarkable little liar sometimes.
you're old enough to know heaven is just a pretty story, aren't you?
go home to your mother. your mother will know what to do.
some things are forever, and other things are never again.
you can't help me. i know that now.
this is my secret hideout. i made it.
what happened to you?
do you think you're being charming?
it looks like it's going to be just you and me, for the time being.
i think we should go on a little vacation somewhere special. just us two. what do you think?
i'm not asking your permission. i'll be back when i'm back.
any old fool can drive a car.
given enough faith, you can do the impossible. and don't you forget it.
you will change the world for the better, i know it.
can you tell me, please, how to get to [place]?
you once said i'd be the death of you, and you were right.
i've always imagined purgatory was the kind of place you could stumble into by accident.
will you ever let me try to make it up to you?
i've traveled this route before, in my dreams.
it couldn't have been ___ you saw. you must have seen somebody else.
i'm running out of time to find my happy ending.
did the light wake you?
you are the strangest girl i have ever met.
there is very little goodness or love in this story.
you never need to worry about ____, ever again.
your story isn't over yet.
are you my angel, or my devil?
you're still young. when you're my age, you'll understand.
you never can tell what a child will grow up to be.
i admire you for accepting life as it comes.
you're never coming back, are you?
i'm here. i'm not going anywhere. here is my hand.
is that you, out so early?
we're approaching the end of our necessary small talk.
i've come to ask for your forgiveness.
you're welcome to stay as long as you like.
one day, i might forgive myself.
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ʷᵉˡᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖚𝖉𝖎𝖔 . . . a multi-muse dive into the divine & mysterious. crafted by ettie.
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please, like this post for a starter from viktor!
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𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢 𝔣𝔞𝔟𝔩𝔢𝔰 𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔞𝔨 𝔬𝔣 . . . created with original lore the fallen star, the damned vampire & the sacrificial lamb
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"where has beshex been?"
the mun:
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⊹ i am a result . . . INTRODUCING Ẻ̴̛̟̈̊́̏͝R̴̢̭̠̦̞͈͉̜̮̠̍́͊͒̍̔̊͝͠Ŕ̴̜͚̭̻̘̣͙͕͖̒́̀͛͆̒̄̕O̵̩͕̺͓̻̞̱͐̒̽̈́͗͛́̽͆̚R̷̙̲̜̪̮̎͝ͅ PATIENT #UL105249
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© * ᴵᴺ ᴬ ᴴᴼᵁᔆᴱ ᴼᶠ ᴹᴵᴿᴿᴼᴿᔆ ᵞᴼᵁ'ᴿᴱ ᴺᴱⱽᴱᴿ ᴬᴸᴼᴺᴱ - WELCOME HOME!
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Viktor remained still, his dark eyes fixed on her as she spoke. The weight of her words hung in the air like smoke from a dying flame, curling around him, threatening to suffocate. Fury—an emotion he had become intimately familiar with over the centuries, but hers was different, wild and untamed. He could sense the fire within her, that passionate, reckless edge that could burn through anything in its path. He respected it. He was wary of it.
As her fingers brushed against his skin, Viktor tilted his head slightly, his gaze unyielding but thoughtful. Her touch was meant to soothe, but the storm of emotions she stirred in him was far from calm. "Fear, my dear?" he mused softly, his tone a blend of amusement and calculation. "I've lived through more storms than I can count, weathered furies that would turn the strongest to ash." His lips curved into a subtle smirk, though his eyes remained cold, calculating.
"Dracula, the Others… they are not gods," Viktor continued, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "They bleed like we do. They can fall like we do." He leaned in just slightly, his breath cool against her fingers as he continued, "I’ve learned to anticipate the storm, to move before it strikes. And if they come looking for truth, well…" His smirk deepened, eyes flashing with something darker. "They’ll find only what I want them to."
He let her hand linger on his cheek, appreciating her concern, but he was Viktor de Monte—fear was a tool, not something he succumbed to. "Am I worried?" he asked, his voice smooth as silk. "No, my dear. The storm does not frighten me. I simply wonder… when will you stop playing with fire and realize that you're standing in its path?"
FURY IS AN ACT OF PASSION; A FIRE UNTOUCHED [ ... ] one that burned into eternity, with nothing to quench it. not even the cold could still it or still her fiery heart. there is little in this world or the others that can control her temper; though she appreciates the challenge. [ what will they do? / do they not know what he was? ] even now lounged across ample chair, arms resting on the back and eyes following every movement. listening, observing. worry lingered in the air; she could taste it. it stung like venom.
somewhere deep within immortal heart, she worried for him. for them. the wrath of the others is rumoured to be monstrous and devastating, and it will befall them in time. no matter where they run; they will be found and slaughtered. the end will come with justice for a crime committed by the very hands that reached to cradle his cheeks. leaning closer, lithe digits resting upon cool skin. to soothe into a soft sense of ease. for now.
did none of know the cruelty of dracula? promises of wishes fulfilled whispered like a lover in the night, with the promise of life eternal. stolen lives of the brides. yet none sought to answer their pleas, none of them came to their aid and thus matters were taken into their own hands.
❝ what truth will they find? he shall not be found — he does not want to be found. ❞ thumbs brush against his skin. what can they do? nothing. not a single thing can be done. all there is left is time until the truth is revealed and things begin to unravel. if the truth of his death is found; let them have it. let them come to her doors. ❝ do you worry, mr de monte? are you afraid of the storm that is sure to follow? ❞
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Viktor watched her with an amused glint in his eyes, leaning back slightly as she spoke, the weight of her words rolling over him like a breeze he was all too familiar with. Gia in his view always had that razor-sharp edge & capable of charming the room one moment and unleashing hell the next.
He tilted his head, observing as she fussed over her reflection in the compact, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. She always did like to maintain control, even if it meant keeping up appearances after she'd painted the town red.
"You've always had a way of handling things… decisively," Viktor murmured, his tone low and smooth, betraying no judgment. He leaned in just slightly, the air between them shifting. "But Gia, don't confuse my interest with sentiment. You know how the game is played, and you know I’m not one for cleaning up the messes of others for nothing."
Her offer hung in the air, that suggestive smile of hers hinting at the unspoken deal that was as old as time—favors for favors, blood for blood. Viktor's gaze darkened as he considered her words, weighing them carefully before responding. "You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours… how quaint." He paused, letting the silence linger just long enough to let her know he wasn’t one to be easily swayed.
"Let’s just say you owe me, and I'll collect when the time is right," Viktor finally said, his voice edged with a dangerous promise. His smile, while polite, carried a hint of something darker beneath it. "Until then, Gia, keep your hands clean. Or at least clean enough."
Gia remains strong in her resolve, remaining silent for a bit longer, if only to urge him on. Her hands remain on her clutch, holding it close in her lap, but she seems to relax slightly more once he tells her that she’d gone under the radar. “I did what I had to,” she responds with a sigh, “they deserved it.” She tosses her hair flippantly behind her shoulder, as if it was a stupid question to be asked. “You know me, Viktor, I don’t take kindly to disrespect. All that matters to me is that they’re six feet under and silent; I hate it when they don’t behave.” She shrugs casually, eyeing him down.
“I don’t like using the word, really, but if they think I’m a bitch, I’ll show them how much of a dog they are. And bad dogs get put down.” Gia opens her clutch, pulling out a compact. Always had to look perfect, didn’t she? Even if she was brimming with anger, even if she’d unloaded bullets upon bullets and it still didn’t feel like it was enough punishment. Manicured nails gently lift the lid open, revealing a mirror that she began to inspect herself with. Everything looked fine, even though she still had those pesky freckles she loathed so much. Makeup never seemed to fully get rid of them.
With a huff, it’s shut, and she’s back to giving Viktor her attention with a small smile and nod. “Mm, good. If you’re certain, I’m certain. I’d hate to have to get my hands dirtier than they already are.” She adjusts herself in her seat, becoming more comfortable. “You know, I should thank you. You’ve been such a dear with this.” Having such a strong ally really was the key to success, wasn’t it? “Lucia agrees,” she continues, “but surely there’s something we can do for you, now? Consider it a showing of my appreciation.” She leans forward, her smile growing.
"You scratch my back, I scratch yours."
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