#cadaver screaming about things

[the-real-okultra]

Alright guys I feel like an evil fucking wizard so here's 30 pictures of Neil Cicierega that you probably haven't seen. Have fun.

[zorostitties]

Aurora; 12 (m)

⤕ Your existence had been an endless night, where shadows whispered long forgotten secrets. Trapped in a golden cage, your fragile mind and shattered memories were chains that kept you from dreaming of freedom. Then, he appeared with the first light of dawn, like a gentle sun warming your cold skin. In his gaze, the promise of a new beginning; in his presence, the sunrise your soul had longed for.

In which Alucard saves you from Erzsebet.

pairing: alucard (castlevania) x (f) reader

genre: angst, romance, slow burn, eventual smut

warnings: violence/blood, explicit language, mental health issues, grief, physical abuse.

rating: 18+

word count: 8k

A/N: HELLO WORLD!! PHEW. It's been a while. I know I'm posting it at a random hour but I needed to get this chapter off my chest. I explained on tumblr why it took me so long to update. To be honest my cat is still in a bad shape and I'm still absurdly worried about her… but oh well, I needed to post this chapter to think of something else for a while, at least. So it'd be very kind of you to leave a comment to help me not freak out about my cat :)

⤕  Masterlist  ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Playlist

You’re tired of fighting.

Your limbs are heavy, your throat burns, bruises cover your skin. Still, you try to run.

It’s useless. The two women dragging you inside the tomb are way stronger – unnaturally stronger than a human being should be. You growl like an animal, you kick and try to punch and claw anything on your reach. It’s still useless. The piece of cloth tightly wrapped around your mouth prevents you from speaking anything coherent.

The corridor opens to a big hall. The place is ancient, it is brightly illuminated by many torches. Strange paintings cover the walls and tall columns. There is a platform and something that looks like an altar ahead of you. On their sides, there are tall ceramic vases, five on each side. Sitting at the right side of the altar, there is a statue: the body of a female, the head of a lion, wielding a spear.

There is a woman standing on top of the platform.

A violent shiver runs down your spine. You know that woman… she was the first thing you saw when you woke up. If she didn’t exude cruelty and malice, maybe you would’ve thought she is beautiful: her tall stature, her long curly dark brown hair, her full lips and pink irises… but you know better. There is nothing good about that woman except her appearance.

She wears a similar white tunic as the other women in the hall, but is the only one wearing a golden headpiece, a thick necklace and many bracelets. Her expression isn’t cruel and mocking at the moment like you’ve seen her before. She just looks serious.

And there’s that other thing on the altar, too.

It… it resembles a woman, but you’re not sure: as pale as a cadaver, contrasting with the warmer skin tones of all the other women inside the tomb; its hair is long, straight and red, resembling a lion’s mane. The creature is… strangely tall, its arms and legs are disproportional to the rest of the body. It’s completely naked – you see the rags of what probably was its clothes scattered around the altar.

And it looks sick.

It’s way too skinny. Its ribs are very clearly outlined on the skin. Its cheeks are profound; its red eyes have heavy dark circles around them. Its whole body is trembling, its breathing is irregular. It drools like a sick dog.

And they are pulling you towards it.

After the initial shock, you begin to kick and scream again, but it’s still useless. You don’t want to be anywhere near that thing. It smells awful, it’s uncanny and scary and violently unnatural…

The other woman – who appears to be some sort of leader – grips you by the arm and drags you closer to that creature. She is even stronger than the other two who held you previously. She says something in a language you don’t understand.

You scream again. You try to pull your arm back, you try to claw her–

She squeezes your arm.

An agonizing yell erupts from your throat. Tears well up your eyes. Your legs fail.

You could hear the sound of your bones cracking under her grip.

That creature holds you this time. It pants like an animal. Even through the pain, you try to push it away – but it is useless.

Its long fingers entangle around the hair at the back of your head; it pushes it, forcing your head back and exposing your neck. It open its mouth wide, its horrible fangs approaching…

When it bites your neck, you can’t scream anymore; its jaws completely block your trachea. You gag, your eyes pop wide. There’s a suction noise… it is sucking your blood, you realize with horror. Your good hand still tries to pull its hair, but once again, it is useless… extreme weakness roams your body. The world twirls as every bit of strength disappears. Your head hurts as if someone had just hammered it.

Finally, it lets you go. You fall flat on the floor.

Your vision is blurred and darkening. You can’t move anymore. Your arm and your neck hurt so, so bad. And yet, you have time to see something before completely blacking out.

The creature doesn’t look like a creature anymore… its cheeks are not hollow, its limbs are no longer disproportional, body fat and muscles are visible again.

It is indeed a woman, not a thing.

She sighs contently and stretches her arms.

The world fades away.

Notre Dame’s high vaulted ceiling was indeed impressive.

How long did it take to build such a magnificent structure? How many workers were necessary? Who must’ve planned the building? How did they know that something so big wouldn’t crumble? Who must’ve crafted the beautiful stained glasses that colored the walls as sunshine touched them?

You had no idea.

You didn’t know why you were staring at it, either.

Your senses came back rather slowly. Voices… steps… everything echoed within the cathedral. The place you were laid at was uncomfortable… a wooden bench. One of the many you’d seen previously. Now that the place was properly lit by sunlight, it didn’t look as eerie as before.

Finally, you decided to sit up.

The great hall was full. The benches weren’t perfectly lined as before, which made you remember that Jules and the monks had used them to barricade the doors. You quickly realized that the injured in battle were brought inside the cathedral, where women priestesses wearing black tunics that covered their heads helped them (you heard two distinctive words: sister and nun. Was that the name of their position?). You saw them running from side to side, holding bloody pieces of cloth and water basins. Other civilian women were helping with medical aid as well.

No known face in sight.

Immediate nervousness set in your guts. Where was everybody? Why were you laying there?

This nervousness vanished in two seconds, however, when a familiar voice called.

You turned your head to see Charles, Jules and Henri rushing to where you were. You almost sighed in relief; Jules didn’t look seriously injured and Henri’s right shoulder was properly bandaged, though he still looked way too pale and tired. All of them looked worn out, in fact, with their uniforms ragged in some spots and blood stains here and there.

“Mademoiselle! You’re–“

“You’re awake! How are you feeling?”

“I’ll call for help! Sister! Please–“

You immediately raised your palm in Charle’s direction. “No, please. I am fine. I don’t need medical aid, thank you.”

The three boys sat down. They silently battled to see who would take their place by your side – Henri ended up winning. The other two sat on the bench in front of you, frowning at the ginger boy.

“What happened? Where is Alucard?” You asked.

“You passed out, Miss Ruby.” Charles explained. Jules elbowed him and angry whispered don’t call her by her name, you’re not her close friend!. “Mr. Alucard brought you down. After he checked that you weren’t hurt, he let you rest and left to care for the troops… he told us to take care of you–“

“He told me to take care of you.” Jules hissed again.

“He didn’t address you, we were all present at that moment…”

But their incessant arguing didn’t catch your attention, because you remembered someone and it immediately made your heart race.

“Mizrak!” You looked around, searching for his familiar face between the injured. “Where is Mizrak?!”

They eyed each other hesitantly.

“The monk, isn’t it?” Jules asked. You nodded. “He… he disappeared, Mademoiselle. He just weren’t there when we opened the doors again.”

“He might’ve crawled somewhere else,” Charles tried to calm you down. “There are other points in the city were the injured are being taken care of.”

“He’s a strong man, isn’t he? I-I’m sure he’s alright, somewhere…” Henri didn’t sound confident at all, however.

You instinctively gripped the fabric of your skirt. How could he just have disappeared? No one simply disappears. His wound was beyond serious, it needed immediate medical assistance. What if a vampire had dragged him away, fed from his corpse? What if he died because of you?

Which made you remember something else, for some reason. Your eyes popped wide once again.

“My scepter? Where is it?” Once again, you looked at your sides.

“My” scepter. Why did you claim it as yours so instinctively?

It just… felt right to do so.

“It’s under the bench, mademoiselle,” Henri pointed. You rushed to grab it, almost sighing in relief. Something so shiny would definitely attract thieves if you weren’t careful.

The three boys were engaged in some conversation. They were asking you questions, in fact, about what happened exactly at the top of the bell tower, where did that light come from, but you weren’t paying attention, focusing your eyes on the golden artifact instead.

You had already noticed it before – but the staff had a very subtle cone format. It got a bit thinner on the other end.

You brushed your fingers around it. The scepter… it didn’t look that unfamiliar anymore.

There was a small spot on the base of it, near the sun symbol. You pressed your thumb over it.

And then – the staff retracted.

It emitted a soft metallic sound as the entire length of the staff fit into itself. Now, you just held a disk – the sun symbol – that was a little larger than your hand, with ninety percent of the staff reduced to a small handle.

The four of you went immediately silent in shock.

“Wow.” Jules exclaimed. “How did you do this?”

“I don’t know.”

“It retracted perfectly,” Henri said in awe. “It’s an engineering masterpiece!”

They began to discuss between themselves again, and as much as you didn’t really mind their company, they were starting to bring you headaches. They reminded you a bit of a pack of turkeys – if one made a noise, all the others repeated.

“Gentlemen,” your voice immediately stopped their incessant talking. They looked at your with attention. You held the sun disk with both hands and rested them over your lap. “I didn’t have the opportunity to properly thank you all yet. Without your efforts, I would’ve never arrived here… and I don’t want to imagine what would’ve happened if I didn’t. All of you saved uncountable lives today.” You managed to open a small smile while passing your eyes by each of the three. “Thank you so much.”

They got speechless for once.

You watched as their lips curved up into grins. Jules massaged the back of his neck sheepishly, Charles stuffed his chest like a bird, Henri got redder than a tomato. It was funny how these three were only big in size; in your eyes, they weren’t much far from the other three little boys you met in Paris.

You were also a bit surprised at your own speech. A week ago, you would’ve never even imagined yourself speaking with quiet confidence like that… you didn’t stutter once, which honestly felt great.

Finally, you stood up, being followed by them.

“Do you know where Alucard and the others are?”

Of course they knew. Of course they wouldn’t let you make your way there on your own.

The three guided you outside of the cathedral once again talking incessantly. You resigned yourself to replying with short sentences anytime a question was asked, way too focused on analyzing the destruction of the city. There was blood everywhere. The area around Notre Dame specifically was full of night creature carcasses; volunteers worked on grabbing them to throw them in a bonfire nearby. The streets were crowded as citizens helped clean the city, bring down the rubble barricades, measure the damage, or simply went back to their homes and establishments.

It was strange to see everything under the sunshine… and to think that just one or two hours ago, you were running around these streets, trying to survive vampire attacks, feeling the deepest fear you’ve ever felt – and trying to brush it aside. You had managed to, somehow… something unthinkable for the person you were a week ago.

...Had you really changed this much in a few days, or you were simply allowed to be yourself for the first time in your life?

“...What I’m trying to say, Mademoiselle,” Henri’s nervous voice caught your attention for the first time. He sent an angry glance towards the other two before looking at you with expectation. “D-Do you have a house in Paris?”

“No.”

“Great! I-I mean–“ he cleaned his throat and put his hand over his chest. “If you need a place to stay – to spend the night, perhaps – you are more than welcome in my house. It’s not far from here. We have enough rooms and food for you. A-And Mr. Alucard, of course,” he giggled nervously.

You half expected the other two to offer their homes as well, but they didn’t, to your surprise. They just looked at him with what looked like jealousy.

Before you could answer, you arrived at a great square – and you forgot about the three.

“Excuse me,” you said before rushing towards Annette.

The square had many people walking from here to there, dragging rubble or just watching – but you didn’t care. Annette is alive! More than that, she looked fine. The dark haired girl spotted you as well and rushed, meeting you halfway.

“Are you okay? Did you get hurt? Where is Richter?” You blurted out, immediately searching for injuries with your eyes. Annette chuckled and held your arms delicately.

“I’m fine. We’re both fine. What about you?” She quirked one eyebrow up. “I heard you unleashed some terrifying magic.”

She lowered her eyes to the sun disk you held. You immediately avoided her gaze, feeling sheepish. “Well, I… I don’t really know how to explain what happened.”

Annette shrugged. “Neither do I.”

“Where’s Richter?” You repeated and started to turn around. Annette, for some reason, widened her eyes and was about to hold you back again…

“Wait–“

She tried, but it was already too late.

The first thing you saw was Alucard, standing at a good distance.

He was eyeing you intently. Juste Belmont was by his side – how and when did he arrive in Paris? – wearing an elegant long red coat.

When your eyes crossed his, your entire body froze.

What happened at the bell tower…

It felt as if your entire face was on fire. Heavens, you hugged him – you actually hugged him, you entangled your arms around his neck and cried like a child. You certainly were not in your right mind to do something so… so… so…!

But then, you looked at something else – the thing Annette was worried that you’d see – and all the other thoughts ceased.

Your stomach dropped.

A big bonfire was being formed by civilians bringing rubble; it was more than two meters tall, perhaps. In between the pieces of wood, there were corpses – the vampires that didn’t turn to ashes during the flash of sunlight.

And the biggest corpse of them all…

You instinctively stepped back.

Erzsebet Bathory.

She didn’t look like herself anymore. She was even taller than what you remembered, her red hair longer, her face distorted in animalistic traits… one arm had been chopped off. She had many bruises and injuries. Her cheeks were hollow, her mouth wide open in a perpetual expression of shock and pain.

Erzsebet Bathory was dead.

No mistakes this time, Alucard had said.

The sight of her destroyed, lifeless corpse made your stomach twirl. And once again, you hated the effect this woman had upon you even in death, even with you looking at her in that state. It felt like she would suddenly screech and launch herself at you like so many times before. You could almost feel her claws gnawing your skin, her fangs sinking in your neck…

She is dead. She is dead. She can’t hurt me anymore. She is dead.

Annette’s soft touch on your shoulder brought you back to reality. She looked at you with worry.

“Do you remember what I told you?” She asked quietly.

And when we defeat Erzsebet, justice will be done.

You closed your eyes for a moment and sighed.

“Yes. I’ll… I’ll be fine.” You reassured her. You weren’t fine at that moment, but you would be.

Finally, you spotted Richter walking towards you both. He looked very injured – he had multiple burns on both arms, the sleeves of his blue jacket had been ripped. He was limping and looked very tired, yet still managed to open a small smile to you.

He carried a long piece of wood. The tip had been draped with pieces of cloth.

His small smile vanished. He looked down at you with solemnity.

“You arrived at the right time, Ruby.” Richter looked down at the wood he held. “We believe… you deserve to be the one to do it.”

You finally understood.

That was a torch.

You gulped, your body got tense. Even so, you nodded accordingly. You wouldn’t be able to speak even if you tried.

Richter summoned a ball of blue fire in his hand and ignited the torch. You shoved the sun disk inside your vest and held the torch with both hands.

You took a deep breath before approaching the pyre.

The square stopped to watch the scene.

Erzsebet’s corpse was horrendous, disgusting. You decided to not avoid your gaze from it. You bent slightly, making the tip of the torch touch the wood at the base of the pyre. The fire spread rapidly.

You stepped away and watched.

The people at the square cheered at the sight of the so-called Vampire Messiah burning. Your world, however, was quiet. All you could hear were the sounds of the wood cackling, the flames increasing and consuming everything in the pyre. You watched with attention as the fire consumed Erzsebet’s corpse; it burned her skin, her hair, muscles and bones. And a part of you was grateful to be left alone – Alucard, Annette, Richter and the three boys decided to stand away.

Erzsebet was dead. Definitely.

She used to be your world merely a week ago. Everything revolved around her: your fear, your hopelessness, your hatred, your self-loathing, your confusion. You were just a shadow of a person, an empty fragile shell on the verge of breaking apart. She was your world – and your world was dark, cold, bloody and lonely.

Things were slowly changing now.

You learned that the real world also had place for colors. For kindness, friendship, perseverance and freedom. The real world was not a perfect place, but it was vast; and its vastness for sure should have a place for you somewhere – a place were you wouldn’t be hurt anymore.

At that moment, you decided that you would never cry for her again.

You had already cried enough. She had forced you to dedicate your entire existence for her. You knew that your wounds were way too deep to be forgotten, you knew that the scars that would come from them would be ugly and impossible to ignore. You knew that it wouldn’t be fast and easy to overcome your fears and all the disgusting memories she dug into your soul.

But even so, you decided not to cry.

She had taken enough from you.

When her skeleton was visible, you turned your back to the pyre.

Richter was leaning on Annette for support, his arm resting over her shoulders while she hugged him from the side. You approached them hesitantly.

Annette still looked worried.

“How are you feeling?” She asked.

You looked down at your bloody sleeve.

“Disgusting. I need a bath.” Finally, you lifted your gaze again. “A friend of mine can help us out.”

You quickly found out why the other two boys didn’t offer their houses as well.

Henri was the son of a judge, who was apparently intimately tied to the leaderships of the Revolutionaries. His house was far from being as luxurious as the chateau in Machecoul (you figured that if Henri’s father had a house like that, he’d be next in the guillotine line), but it was still bigger and more comfortable than the average home anyway, located at the heart of Paris.

Henri had offered you (and Alucard as an afterthought) a shelter… but you figured he wouldn’t mind if you brought other visitors as well.

Right?

Well, his father certainly didn’t mind. The middle-aged man thanked Alucard over a hundred times, his eyes gleaming as if he stood in front of a golden statue, babbling how he was thankful for his help. Alucard listened patiently, but you were around him for long enough to start noticing his very subtle expression changes.

You remembered his opinion about the leaders of the Revolutionaries…

Well.

The rest of the group was more than happy to have a place to stay for a while, so there wasn’t really what to argue here.

“Stay for as long as you like!” Henri’s father repeated for the hundredth time while guiding everyone inside. “We have enough bedrooms, enough food… well, perhaps not enough clothes, but I’ll figure it out in no time! Tell me whatever you need and I’ll have it ready. All I have to offer is little compared to what you did to save our nation today!”

Alucard resigned himself to offer him a nod.

Before the white-haired vampire could focus on you, you immediately accepted a maid’s offer to get upstairs and have a bath.

...You didn’t know why you were avoiding him. Not exactly. Perhaps embarrassment? You’d never been deliberately touchy with anyone like that before. Well, you weren’t in your right mind at that moment for whatever reason. Maybe you crossed a boundary? Maybe you went too far? Alucard didn’t push you away, however – but he wasn’t one to be rude anyway… at the same time, it’s not like Alucard wasn’t someone that didn’t know how to establish boundaries. The fact that he didn’t push you away had to mean something, right?

He hugged you back, in fact.

He rested his face on your shoulder and didn’t move.

You felt his hot breath on your neck and his large hand softly caressing your back.

For the second time, he held you until you fell asleep.

Your face was burning hot.

Suddenly, for unknown reasons, you felt as if you were exposed again, as if there was a crowd watching you with scrutiny even though there was no one else besides the maid in the room. You felt burning embarrassment crawl over your skin and it burnt almost as much as the strange magic of the scepter. For the first time in your life, you dismissed a maid’s offer to help you bathe and decided to do it yourself.

And then you were alone in the bedroom, but you still felt strange and exposed and oh heavens you were disgusting. Sweaty, dried blood covered your skin. You got rid of those layers of clothes and sat inside the wooden bathtub – it was smaller than what you were used to, the water wasn’t as warm, there weren’t bath salts, only a bar of soap.

Erzsebet chose the bath salts you’d bathe in. She liked flowery fragrances.

And then you remembered that you still smelled of her, that her disgustingly sweet smell was mixed with the smell of blood and sweat, and then you were scrubbing yourself with the sponge and soap vehemently.

You scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed, watching the foam spread over your skin. You scrubbed your arms and chest and legs and stomach and feet. But the smell wouldn’t go away, so you scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed. You scrubbed until your skin started to hurt. That pain made you remember the sight of Erzsebet burning in the pyre, the sight of her skin boiling and melting from her bones – which, for some reason, made you scrub harder. You weren’t planning to, but you ended up untying your hair and washing it too, scratching your scalp with soap in frenetic movements because that bad smell was probably in your hair, too.

You scrubbed your own body until you were tired, until the water became actually cold, until your arms hurt from the repetitive movements. You stood inside the tub with water on your knees, the naked upper part of your body shaking in cold, and watched as blood dripped from the scratches you had inflicted on your own thighs. Perhaps… perhaps too much scrubbing. How did that even happen?

You sniffed your hair. Your skin. It didn’t smell of flowers anymore.

Just soap.

So you finally got out of the tub and wrapped yourself in a towel.

When the maid entered the bedroom with a fresh change of clothes, you avoided eye contact with her. She explained that the dress was Henri’s sister’s and perhaps it wouldn’t fit, but she already had a box of threads and needles to make adjustments. It wasn’t an intricate ball gown, but it wasn’t a simple dress either. It had cream and light green tones with pink flowers peppered around the corset and skirt. The dress was light and comfortable. It didn’t require many adjustments.

The maid offered herself to brush and style your hair, to which you politely declined. She probably wouldn’t be aggressive the way you were used to, but… no. Not right now.

When the maid left, you sat in front of the dressing table… and stayed there for a while. Disheveled damp hair fell over your shoulders. It was probably wetting the back of the dress. You didn’t care.

You stared at your own reflection for the first time in days.

The morning Alucard appeared in your life, you were doing just that – watching your reflection. Scrutinizing yourself. You didn’t look different. But, at the same time, there was something different about you – and you couldn’t tell exactly what.

You still had no past or family or name… but you weren’t just a bird in a cage anymore either, nor a lamb obediently walking to its slaughter night after night.

You were free.

It was scary.

What were you going to do from now on? You were actually alone. You owned nothing, and it was pretty clear that in order to survive in this world, you’d need some gold or coins or… whatever the currency was. You couldn’t assume Henri would let you live under his shelter forever and you weren’t innocent enough to not understand what it meant to stay.

You were nobody.

The others? They accepted you because you were a link to Erzsebet’s powers, an upper hand. Now their enemies were dead. They had no responsibility over you… you shouldn’t assume that they would take care of you like you were a child.

As humiliating as it might be, you felt like a child.

What would be your place in this world? Was something expected of you? Would they expect you to get married and have children? Should you find some sort of work? Should you perform some sort of role?

The reflection in the mirror frowned back at you slowly.

A… role?

...

You learned that your blood was valuable to her.

...

“But I am no vampire.”

“No. However, you heal like one. And Erzsebet drank from your blood for a long time, apparently.”

Annette looked at Alucard. “Do you think this was also somehow empowering her?”

The vampire took some moments to answer. “Maybe. We can’t be sure.”

…

That creature doesn’t look like a creature anymore… its cheeks are not hollow, its limbs are no longer disproportional, body fat and muscles are visible again.

It is indeed a woman, not a thing.

…

It took you a long time to realize that there was someone knocking on the door. You got up in a jump and rushed towards it with your thoughts rushing faster than the currents of a river.

It was Henri. He had also taken a proper bath, changed his clothes, and blushed furiously when his eyes fell on your figure. Maybe because your hair was damp and not presentable? Not very lady-like. Perhaps inappropriate. But you didn’t care, the same way you didn’t really pay attention to anything he was saying; his words seemed muffled and distant within the cacophony of your own thoughts.

The bandages on his left shoulder were peeking from under his blouse.

“Henri, would you do something for me?” you interrupted whatever he was babbling before. “But you have to trust me.”

His eyes widened. “O-Of course! Anything for you, Mademoiselle.”

You opened the door wide and stepped aside, pointing towards the bed. “Please, have a seat.”

His face got even redder, if that was possible.

“B-B-But Mademoiselle– it would be inappropriate to enter your room like that, when we’re alone–“

“Please.”

“Of course!”

He rushed in awkwardly as if that wasn’t his own house. You didn’t bother to close the door again – if the idea of being alone with you made him so uncomfortable, it was best to leave it open. Henri sat on the edge of the bed while blinking rapidly for some reason. His breathing also looked irregular. Was he feeling unwell?

“Can you show me your wound?” You asked. Henri widened his eyes again.

“Mademoiselle… hm…”

“Trust me.” You were running impatient.

Henri hesitated, but ended up taking off his coat and pushing his blouse to expose the bandages. You turned around to take something from the dressing table. When you turned around holding a pair of scissors, Henri got pale.

He was a bit of a chameleon.

Henri was about to protest again, but the look you sent him made him gulp and go quiet. You stood in front of him to carefully cut the bandages away and expose the gashes on his shoulder. They were properly cleaned and stitched up, but even so you could still see how horribly that vampire hurt him. If Henri’s head was centimeters closer to the vampire’s claws… he wouldn’t be here right now to change colors anymore.

Henri gasped when you brought the blade of the scissors and cut your own palm.

“Mademoiselle–!”

“Shh.”

He swallowed his words.

You hoped to be right. That had to work.

Carefully, you pressed your bleeding palm over his wounds.

Henri hissed. Your hand moved slowly to spread the blood over the entire surface of the gashes. The sight was unpleasant, to say the least… but it was less disgusting than making him drink your blood.

Please, work. Please, work.

Nothing changed at first.

But then, Henri gasped – and you gasped, too.

Your palm pressed over his wounds – your blood started to glow faintly. It took a strange golden color, as if it became melted gold.

Both of you watched in awe as Henri’s wounds started to heal right in front of your eyes.

He seemed out of breath. He frowned and hissed and you knew he was probably hurting because you knew that feeling. You stood upright and stepped away from him in slight shock.

The threads that were used to stitch the gashes fell over his lap.

Henri touched his own shoulder hesitantly. He pressed his fingers over it, massaged it. There was no sign that it was previously hurt… not even a scar.

You learned that your blood was valuable to her.

Why keep you around? Why keep you locked with guards holding you at all times? Why drag you along anywhere she went?

That was the answer to one of the questions that plagued your existence.

Henri was healed.

Finally, he rose his amazed eyes towards you.

“Miss Ruby… h-how did…?”

Then, he looked at something behind you and got pale again.

You turned around.

Alucard stood by the door, watching the scene with an astonished expression.

You locked eyes. With that simple gaze, you saw that he understood the situation completely.

One piece of the puzzle that hid your mysterious past was solved.

“...Why is he talking funny?” You whispered in Annette’s ear.

She quirked one eyebrow up and looked towards Juste, who stood not far from where you were sitting.

A smirk crept up her lips. “He’s drunk.”

Juste Belmont, Richter’s grandfather who you only saw briefly at his destroyed cottage, swayed slightly as if he stood on water, though the ground at the sides of the Seinne were clearly cobblestones. His eyes were half lidded, his speech slower and a bit difficult to understand. He held a wooden cup full of beer and talked to some unknown men who seemed to be in a similar state as him.

At your obvious confusion, Annette frowned. “Have you never been drunk?”

“I don’t know what that is, I’m afraid.”

Annette looked more confused than you. She eyed the bottle of the (not very good) wine you’d been sharing for the past hour or so. “Well, I’m surprised… given how much you’ve been drinking. You don’t feel anything strange at all? A certain dizziness? A sudden happiness?”

You put your hand over your own stomach and frowned. “No. Was I supposed to?”

She rested her face on her palm. “A normal person would be supposed to… but I guess your healing ability doesn’t even let you get drunk.” A small chuckle went past her lips. “It’s what happens when someone drinks too much of an alcoholic beverage. They lose their senses, get dizzy, sometimes end up saying or doing things they wouldn’t do when they’re sane…”

“Oh.” Funnily enough, you knew how that felt – but it didn’t have anything to do with alcohol… just extreme levels of “sun magic”, apparently. “I didn’t know wine has alcohol. It doesn’t feel much different than juice to me.” You quirked one eyebrow up. “Does juice have alcohol?”

“No. Hopefully no.” She shook her head. It seemed that Annette thought your confusion over some things amused her, much like Alucard. She looked ahead again. “Getting drunk is not always bad, you know. Sometimes it helps you lift your spirits.”

You looked ahead too, back to where Juste and his new friends laughed at the top of their lungs at something you didn’t hear, and silently wished you could get drunk if it’d make you laugh like that.

It was… strange, to say the least, how the night in Paris was so lively. Streets were crowded and well lit, laughter and music filled the air as citizens celebrated. Men, women, young or old – the entire city decided to go outside and have a huge party. It didn’t even seem that a literal war broke out only a few hours ago. Most of the rubble hadn’t even been collected.

It was like no one cared. Which, in your opinion, was a bit heartless, given how many lives were lost. But it seems they were just happy that the person who threatened their freedom was dead.

Well. You should be happy too. More than anyone.

Why weren’t you celebrating with them?

You craved freedom for as long as you could remember. More than that… you craved relief. But turns out, deep down, you never thought that day would actually come, and now that it did, you just didn’t know how to react. So your body and feelings just decided to freeze in this strange state.

The others seemed happy – well, maybe except for Maria, the blonde girl in pink. She talked a bit with Annette and Juste, but resigned herself to be quiet most of the time with perpetual melancholy over her features. From what you knew, Maria had lost her mother the day you met Alucard, so her actions were understandable.

Richter bounced back between talking to Juste and Annette. The black haired girl still seemed a bit apprehensive about something, but other than that, she was much more relaxed than what you’d known of her. And Alucard… he was somewhere. He left the house with everyone, but quickly got caught up in conversation with some generals you’d seen before.

So there you were. Sitting on a bench with Annette by your side, watching Paris celebrate the death of the Vampire Messiah, while you felt that you couldn’t even move.

It was overwhelming. And a bit uncomfortable.

Turns out you hadn’t really gotten used to crowds… it seems it’s not something that would change over just a few days. Many men you met the day before came to greet you with wide smiles in their faces (now that Annette had explained, you figured most of them were probably drunk too). Of course, you were happy anytime you recognized a face – one more soldier that hadn’t fallen. But at at some point… you didn’t want to talk anymore, or force smiles, or try to pay attention to whatever they were trying to say.

So you decided to sit with Annette for a while in this somehow hidden spot. It seemed she didn’t want to mix with the people as well. You wondered if it had anything to do with what Alucard explained about her past and her homeland…

Which made you remember something else – something you’d been hesitating to ask.

You straightened your back and cleaned your throat. “Hm, Annette… can I ask you something?” She looked at you and nodded. “Do you remember what you said or did while… well… while Sekhmet possessed you?”

She narrowed her eyes and looked down, touching her temples with her fingertips. “Not exactly. I remember what happened while I was in the spirit world… but even these memories are a bit vague in some parts. Like the memories of a dream.” She rested her hand back over her lap. “It’s always like that when I wander there.”

“So you weren’t really here while Sekhmet had your body?” Annette shook her head. Your shoulders dropped in disappointment. “Oh. I understand.”

She tilted her head. “Why you ask?”

“Sekhmet said something strange about me.” You avoided her eyes. Although they shared the same face, Annette had nothing to do with Sekhmet and the feral glare she sent you at that moment. “She said I should not be close to her.”

“What? Why?”

“She didn’t explain. That’s why I hoped maybe you’d have a hint… since you shared a body.”

Annette held her chin in a pensive expression. “...I have no idea, I’m sorry. But if I remember something relevant from when I was in the spirit world, I’ll tell you right away.”

You thanked her quietly and looked ahead again. You couldn’t blame her. Annette had asked how that flash of sunlight happened, how the scepter worked – and similarly to her, you had no answers.

Richter was, once again, approaching with a smile on his face. Perhaps that was the little push you needed to move. Whenever he came around, you felt that you were… interrupting. It wasn’t the first time you felt like that around them, but the situation became a little bit more intense. Maybe you really were interrupting, maybe they wanted some time for themselves but didn’t want to be rude.

So you finally decided to get up.

“I’m tired... I’ll head back now.”

Annette seemed a bit worried. “Do you want me to walk back with you?”

Again, you couldn’t blame her for being worried, not after all she had seen of you – acting like a frightened little mouse all the time. You shook your head and managed to open a small (fake) smile. “No, thank you. The house is just two streets away… I promise to not get lost.”

Annette hesitated… but it seems she understood you wanted to be left alone.

“Okay. Take care.”

You nodded and turned around, not waiting to greet Richter. It also made you feel a bit like that frightened little mouse again, but there was another reason why you felt confident enough to walk these two streets alone. The red string around your right wrist. You decided to keep it there, the same way you decided to take the red disk – scepter – with you wherever you went. The idea of it being taken from you was enough to keep you on your toes at all times.

You walked past couples, families, friends, children – talking, drinking, dancing, running around. You wished you wouldn’t feel this disconnected from their reality. No… it was a bit more complicated than that. You wished you had a family, a real past, more good memories than bad ones. Perhaps if you had these things… you wouldn’t feel so distant or lost or empty.

As much as you’d been avoiding to sleep, you assumed that sleeping right now would ease your feelings a bit.

That was when something very subtle tingled on your wrist.

You looked down in time to see the red string untying itself and falling.

Frowning, you crouched and took it from the floor again. Had you accidentally brushed on someone–?

If anything happens, anything at all, untie this string. Mine will untie, too, and I will rush to you.

Your eyes widened.

You looked around frantically.

Finally – you found him.

Alucard stood alone on one of the many bridges over the Seinne not very far from where you were. He was difficult to find at first, but as soon as your eyes locked on him, everyone else became blurred. He leaned both forearms over the stone railing in a relaxed position; his face held the serenity you were already used to. It’s like he was deep in thought. The soft night breeze played with his white hair. He looked down at the river.

His red string swayed with the wind, too. Untied. He held it between his fingers.

Your heart stopped beating for a second.

You stood there, unable to move, as if your body finally remembered how to feel something, how to not be distant. You gulped, gripped the sun disk a little tighter.

Mine will untie, too, and I will rush to you.

Alucard noticed you were avoiding him. Well, it was quite impossible not to notice. He didn’t make any attempts to approach you (you quite literally ran away from him earlier after the new discovery about your blood). But that… that was a very clear message.

A quiet invitation.

So you took a deep breath, trying to calm your stupid racing heart. Why were you scared? That was Alucard. You knew Alucard. He was never mean to you, never made you feel bad intentionally. You had faced a city full of vampires earlier that day… talking to him was nothing compared to that.

To be truly freed is to not be afraid.

You walked towards him.

You didn’t rush. You held the disk tightly, keeping it close to your stomach, the red string tangled around your palm. It seemed that your heart thundered louder on your ears with every step. It was like the world got blurrier and blurrier except for him.

After what seemed like an eternity, you stood by his side.

Two steps away. You looked down at the river, too.

Silence.

You weren’t brave enough to look at him. Alucard didn’t move, didn’t say anything. But… just like before, his quiet serenity enveloped you, made the celebration noises a bit distant.

It didn’t calm your raging heart this time.

It took you a while to understand that Alucard was waiting for you to speak up first. But he called me here. Doesn’t he have anything to say? Why should I be the one to speak first?!

To be truly freed is to not be afraid.

You gulped.

“I…” Your voice cracked a bit. You felt the urge to jump in the river and drown. “I don’t know how they have the energy to celebrate. It… doesn’t feel appropriate.”

Alucard sighed.

“The grieving families for sure aren’t out here.” Goosebumps roamed your skin when his calm husky voice reached your ears. “France is far from reaching real peace in the next few years… let them celebrate for now.”

You nodded, keeping your eyes glued to the river down there. It reflected the golden lights of the lanterns on the margins beautifully.

Come on, don’t be scared. Don’t be embarrassed. Come on. Come on. Come on.

You took what you had kept inside the sleeve of your dress hesitantly.

“A-Actually, I… I wanted to give you this.”

You turned to Alucard for the first time. He was already looking at you.

He looked down at the carefully folded handkerchief you offered him with both hands.

His expressions changed subtly. At first, confusion; then, surprise.

Then… a small smile.

You cleared your throat. “G-Give it back, actually. Since I ruined yours… I don’t know if it’s the same fabric, but it looks similar to the one you had.”

Alucard chuckled and took the handkerchief with care. When his fingers brushed yours, you felt more goosebumps.

“There was no need… but thank you. It is very thoughtful.”

You managed to smile, but turned to the river again before your face started burning.

With the corner of your eyes, you saw him put the handkerchief inside his coat and lean over the railing again. He was not wearing his cape. There was something different about him… perhaps because immediate danger wasn’t lurking anymore, Alucard felt comfortable enough to actually relax, and it reflected on his body and face.

You taped your pointer finger over the sun disk nervously. “How’s your wound?” You blurted out, desperate to not fall in an awkward silence.

Alucard instinctively touched his left shoulder. “Healed.” He looked at you again. “What about you?”

Oh fuck. He was addressing the elephant in the room – your strange state that made you weirder and braver than usual. Please do not mention the hug. Please please please please.

Once more, you avoided his gaze. “...Back to normal, I believe.” I hope is what you wanted to say, but perhaps it would’ve been a little rude.

“Do you have any idea of why that happened to you?”

You tightened your lips and frowned a bit.

You will burn from inside out.

It’s what the unknown female voice told you.

“I believe… I was doing something wrong at first.” You started hesitantly. “The magic. I was conjuring it in an incorrect way. I think my mistake harmed me. Burning me from inside out.”

Alucard hummed and held his chin.

“So it backfires. Magic so powerful should have its side effects.” Alucard seemed hesitant. “If it harms you… you should consider not doing it unless absolutely necessary.”

“No! It was just at first. I… figured it out later.” The thought made you tighten your grip around the sun disk by instinct. “Though, to be honest, I feel that that specific ritual shouldn’t be used in excess.”

Alucard’s eyes followed your grip. He quirked one eyebrow up slightly.

“I was meaning to ask you about this, too.” You handed him the sun disk right away, to which he took and raised to his eye level. “So the staff retracts. How did you figure it out?”

You shrugged. “It just felt right.”

Alucard grinned while handing it back to you. “It seems you’re remembering a lot of things.”

“...I’m not sure. It’s like I told you before… knowledge. Not memories.”

The white-haired vampire leaned on the railing again and looked into the distance. His expression got a bit more serious.

“I was thinking of what you told me. It reminded me of something.” Alucard seemed to hesitate. “...My parents were doctors. Both of them. My father, specifically, had a bit of a fascination for the mysteries of the human brain. He dedicated many studies and experiments to it. Wrote entire books.” Whenever Alucard mentioned anything about his father, it was like nothing else in the world mattered. You were completely focused. “From his many theses… he got to the conclusion that memories and abilities are stored in different areas of the brain. That could be why when someone suffers from memory loss, they still know how to speak, read, write… they know how to function.”

Your eyes widened at each word that left his mouth. “...Just like me.” Alucard nodded. You instinctively touched your own head. “So maybe this part of my brain is damaged?”

“Could be.”

“But why isn’t it healing back?”

Alucard hesitated.

“I believe we’ll figure it out soon.” You wanted to ask what the hell he meant by that, but Alucard decided to change topics drastically. “Talking about healing… did you tell anyone about what happened?”

Oh.

The absolute shocking news you discovered earlier that day, but that seemed pale at that moment in comparison with your nervousness to speak with him.

“No.” You shook your head. “But I was thinking… Richter’s burns are pretty bad. Maybe I could help him… or maybe if I knew where Mizrak is, I could save him...”

“Ruby.”

He put his hand over your shoulder – which made you swallow your words.

Quiet worry coated his features.

“I understand you want to help. But you should also understand that the properties of your blood are extremely rare and extremely valuable. It will put a target on your head again. So… the less people know about it, the better.” He dropped his hand from your shoulder. “Also… if in order to heal someone you end up getting hurt, I don’t see why you should do it.”

“But I always–“

“I know.” He interrupted you softly. “I know you do. That doesn’t mean you should hurt yourself willingly.” Alucard pressed his lips. “...Blood is life, Ruby. Don’t give your life away so easily.”

You sighed heavily and crossed your arms. “I guess you’re right. Henri knows about it, though.”

“He won’t tell anyone.” Alucard sounded way too certain about that.

It was your turn to lean on the stone railing, You looked down at the river. The pacific sound of the non-stopping flowing waters muffled the other noises – uncountable voices and music. You wondered if Alucard attracted you here on purpose… a place where you could focus on a single calming sound.

And perhaps that calmness gave you courage to ask the question you wanted to ask the most.

“What are you going to do now, Alucard?” Your voice was hesitant. Fragile, even… “Erzsebet and Drolta are dead. Your five year mission is over…”

Of course, you knew he and the others had no responsibility over you. You were well aware. And yet, the simple thought of being left alone frightened you. The idea that Alucard would wake up tomorrow and simply go away, and the others would go back to Machecoul, and Annette would cross the ocean back to Saint-Domingue… all of that was frightening.

You wanted to be free, not alone.

And the thought that you might never see Alucard again was even more frightening.

Should you have been attached to him so easily after just a few days? Was that correct or normal? You had no idea. What you knew was that Alucard was the first person to offer kindness and protection and understanding, and you didn’t want him out of your life so soon.

But that was not up to you.

So all you could do was ask.

Alucard leaned on the railing too. He was closer this time. Just one step away, not two.

“I think I should be making this question.” He said softly. “What are you going to do now that you’re free?”

A dry, humorless chuckle escaped past your lips. That wasn’t funny, however.

“I don’t have a family. Or a past, or a name. I don’t know where I came from or where should I go next. I don’t know why my blood heals, why I can read this language, where did this scepter come from… I don’t know anything.” You hated how fragile and bitter your voice sounded, but that couldn’t be helped. “...Is this even freedom at all?”

Alucard kept silent for long, respectful moments.

Then, he sighed deeply.

“There is only one place in the world where we could decode this language.” He pointed towards the sun disk.

You looked at him with a frown.

“There is only one place in the world where we might find out why you heal… and where does your strange magic comes from.”

Expectation bubbled within your chest.

“What place is it?”

Alucard closed his eyes for a moment. It was just a glimpse, but you had the impression that he didn’t really like what he was about to say.

But then, he opened his eyes to look at you – and his golden irises had nothing but kindness and quiet care, and the lanterns cast a soft glow over his features and white hair, and truly – he was so beautiful that it was almost painful to look at.

“My home.” He tilted his head to the sides. “...What used to be my home, at least.” Alucard straightened his back. “I’m making you an invitation, Ruby.”

Your heart raced. Your mouth got dry. Your eyes widened slowly.

“Do you want to… help me?” You, for some reason, sounded amazed. Why is it? Has anyone been more willing to help you than Alucard?

Alucard smiled and nodded – and, at that moment, with that simple motion, he seemed to ease all the worries of your soul.

“I do. I will. Let’s find out who you really are, Ruby.” Alucard rested his hand over yours… and once again, it didn’t burn.

It warmed.

“Let’s go to Dracula’s castle.”

[juricel]

a/n: a request but i may or may not have accidentally posted the draft and deleted it in panic, im so sorry to the original requester if you see this, please correct me if i'm wrong with something! I didn't properly memorize the phrasing of the ask.

original ask: "may i request yan!shadow milk cookie with an immortal!f/o who keeps dying to him but the more they die they grow resilient and fight back?"

— yandere! shadow milk cookie x immortal! reader hcs

໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა ۪ ׂ CONTENT WARNING: manipulation, mild gore, murder, body horror, heavy obsessive and possessive behavior, kidnapping, body horror, emotional abuse, physical abuse, violence, unhealthy relationship, implied forced established relationship, implied mindbreak, potential ooc.

𖦁‎ shadow milk cookie adores every single part of you; your face, your personality, your appearance, your voice, your habits, everything—but oh, one thing that he loves about you most is when you are dead inside, aching, petrified, and falling apart.

𖦁‎ he doesn't mean to be cruel, really! it was meant to be a silly little experiment, a test of your immortality upon learning you were unable to die out of pure curiosity. However, when he crumbled you, his sweet dear, apart, oh he witnessed true beauty; you were a sight beyond manevolent, a bewitching visage, a pulchritudinously splendous piece of art. he, knelt in a puddle of hot, sweet blood, aching smile pitted against aching smile, caress your ichor-stained skin oh so gently, smudging the crimson over your now turning pale flesh—you were ravishing, organs lay splayed, tears prickling through the corner of eyes, red branching out across the sclera of your eyes, bloodied, bruised, and beneath /his/ mercy... ah, it was the illustrious form of beauty. he doesn't mean to get addicted, but oh, the sight of you... slope of stomach inwards, hip bones protruding through thin skin unnaturally, diaphragm and ribs sticking sickenly, and each bone present like a mountain range on the plateau of your pectorals; the way your scars turn beautiful, thrumming pink, and fade dark into a luscious shade of near-blue when cold; the vibrancy of your blood as it trickles down your tainted flesh... he just couldn't get enough of it! the more he thought of it, the more he got giddy.

𖦁‎ surely, you wouldn't mind him trying it out once more, don't you? it's not like you have a choice regardless! not when you're tied up and confined within his clutches. with a hand caressing your cheeks, he whispers sweet nothings, thumb stroking the contour of your cheekbones as he digs in his nails into the rake of your skin; cutting, mangling, butchering, dismembering, and lacerating your body as if it were a doll made to be withered—mutilating until what remains were cadaver. oh, you were just beyond adorable, weren't you? how can he not be a little mean to you when you were so endearing like this? the sight of you like this overwhelms him with desire, oh, how he craved to tear you apart, to bite and scratch your neck until leisons form and crimson seeps, to claw his way through your dermis until you scream in agony, blood staining his fingertips; a sight only he, himeslf could witness and he would make sure of that.

𖦁‎ he promises to be kind, to be gentle as he bashes your legs in, but he just couldn't help it! oh, but it's fine, isn't it? it's not like you were gonna crumble away from it all eternally! so he doesn't understand. why must you rebel against him? can't you see that he was doing this in an overwhelming exasperation of love for you? or was it because it was painful? oh, no it wasn't! you're just overreacting. it doesn't hurt. don't get him mistaken! he adores watching you struggle, takes fulfillment seeing you defiant even but when you manage to escape his grasp? oh, that is when his anger escalates.

𖦁 he's sorry, so so sorry! really, he's sorry, he won't kill you anymore, he promises! just don't leave from his sight ever again, in soft murmurs and thinly veiled bitter words he would whisper, tracing his bloodied fingers against the curve of your jaw, kissing away your vulgar defiance as he holds your body as stiff as a clay, unmoving and unresponsive, eyes unfocused.

a/n: not quite proud of this one, i hope it's fine, however! i do think this one is much more darker than my previous work but then again, it's a yandere work so it's probably alright.

[decayed-cartilage]

The Intern

Hannibal Lecter x AFAB! Reader

Masterlist. PT 1

Warnings for chapter: power dynamic? Mentions of erection.. creepy! Hannibal, Morally wrong! Hannibal

Synopsis: Y/N is on the brink of graduation, with just one requirement left—an internship. Somehow, she finds herself under the esteemed Dr. Hannibal Lecter, a man as brilliant as he is unreadable. Cold, precise, and impossible to rattle, he keeps his thoughts well-guarded. But Y/N can’t help her curiosity—she wants to understand him, to get beneath the surface. And whether he intends to or not, bit by bit, he lets something slip. Something darker. Something she might not be ready to see.

After what felt like endless hours of writing and submitting, writing and submitting, I finally received an email back from one of the many psychiatrists I’d been desperately trying to reach for my mandatory internship—Dr.Lecter, A prestigious man with many colorful reviews, which had drawn me to contact him.

From: H***********@gmail.com

To: Y/e@gmail.com

Subject: Internship for Johns Hopkins University

Dear Y/N,

I’ve had the pleasure of reviewing your application and personal portfolio, and I must say—your dedication and talent are impossible to overlook. It’s clear you take your work seriously, and intelligence like yours is always refreshing to encounter. I have no doubt that you would be the perfect young lady for me to mentor

do get in touch at your earliest convenience, and please, use my personal number (***) ***-****

Best,

Doctor Lecter

My heart pounded out of my chest, my eyes scanning his words again and again as warmth flooded my face. Oh god—had I really sent all that? How had I forgotten? Yes—I had sent all of it, in a tired, near-lucid state, exhausted from working so hard. My words had grown almost desperate by the last emails, pleading for validation.

But really? My whole life story? A deep dive into why I chose psychiatry—endless run-ons about trauma and my relentless hope for a better world?

And—oh no—the pictures. Me in scrubs, grinning way too hard, double thumbs-up in front of a cadaver during one of my early tech programs. Or me, beaming like an overexcited tourist beside historical documents, looking ridiculously proud.

Yet, all of that faded as my eyes caught on one thing—his phone number.

I screamed like a teenage girl, shooting up from my seat as I sprinted to grab my phone, my hands shaking as I typed in his number—only to pause.

What do I even say?!

I groaned, throwing myself back onto my bed.

Third person (Hannibal's) P.O.V

Hannibal had been waiting. Days bled into each other, an endless cycle of monotony—listening to insipid patients whine about their problems, assisting in crime cases that barely challenged him, returning home to indulge in his more refined appetites. Even killing had lost its thrill. Nothing ever truly stirred him.

Until your email.

God, the desperation dripped from every word, a quiet, pleading sort of need that sent a slow, curling heat through him. You had laid yourself bare, unaware of what exactly you had just invited into your life. Your tragic little story, the way you carried yourself—so unassuming, so small. So easy.

Just picturing you in his office, lingering in his space, speaking to him with those wide, trusting eyes—his jaw locked, his fingers twitching with restraint.

Staring at the pictures you had attached, Hannibal felt his length twitch, his breath slowing as his free hand drifted—almost absentmindedly—palming himself through the fine fabric of his dress pants. God.

The way your lips curled, the way your smile beamed so effortlessly, so full of warmth—it was intoxicating. A stark contrast to the cold, calculated existence he thrived in. You radiated light, soft and unguarded, utterly unaware of the predator fixated on you.

His throat tightened.

Such an innocent little thing, standing there in your scrubs, so proud, so eager. So trusting. You belonged to a world of laughter and hope, while he—he was carved from shadow and silence, his smile only ever genuine when he was peeling flesh from bone.

And yet, here he was, jaw clenched, breath heavy, wanting.

Needing.

He exhaled sharply, fingers pressing harder against the growing strain beneath his waistband.

Oh, sweet girl… you have no idea what you’ve done.

Ding!

The sharp chime shattered the heavy silence, jolting him from his trance. His phone clattered against the desk, but his eyes were already locked onto the screen. He knew who it was. Of course, he did.

Hannibal was a meticulous man. A careful man. And yet, you had made it so easy for him. Every little detail of your life, carelessly scattered across the internet—your school, your favorite cafés, even the places you liked to study. He knew where you had been before you even told him. He had all of you at his fingertips.

And now, your number. Displayed so innocently on his screen.

"Hello Doctor Lecter! This is Y/n :),I got your acceptance email-"

The preview cut off, but he didn’t need to see the rest to know exactly how you would sound—bubbly, eager, grateful. A stark contrast to the dark amusement curling in his chest.

Still, he unlocked the phone, fingers rolling over the screen, expression unreadable as he took in the rest of your message.

and I just can’t express how grateful I am you responded! It’s even better since I’m attending the same school you did! I would love to set up a time for us to chat in person—I hope I’m not being too informal—if I am, please tell me! Thank you so much for your time!

Such sweetness. Such hope. He could practically hear the nervous excitement laced in your words, see the way your hands might have trembled as you typed, wondering if you were saying too much, if you sounded proper enough for him.

He exhaled slowly, his jaw tightening, his fingers pressing into the screen just a little harder than necessary.

You had no idea what you had just invited into your world.

He began typing.

I’m pleased to hear from you so soon. Why don’t we meet somewhere comfortable? Perhaps a coffee shop—there’s a lovely one, [your favorite coffee shop], that I hear is quite popular. It seems like the perfect setting for our first conversation. Let me know when you’re available, and I’ll gladly adjust my schedule.

And please, don’t worry about being too informal. I much prefer sincerity. I look forward to meeting you, properly.

With that, he sent the message, his thumb hovering over the screen for just a second longer than necessary before finally setting the phone down. It slid across his desk with a soft thud, the only sound in the stillness of his office.

Hannibal exhaled slowly, a drawn-out sigh that did little to temper the hunger curling inside him.

You had been on his mind long before your message arrived, but now? Now, you were real. Tangible. Just a text away.

And soon, within reach.

Rolling his shoulders, he adjusted his cuffs with careful precision, though it did little to distract from the heat simmering beneath his skin. His jaw tightened. He needed a walk. Fresh air. A moment to compose himself before his thoughts spiraled into something indulgent.

His lips curled slightly as he stepped away from his desk, anticipation thrumming in his veins.

You had no idea what you had just done.

But you would.

YOUR POV

Ding!

I was too nervous to look at his message right away. My fingers hovered over my phone, heart hammering so loudly it drowned out all rational thought. When I finally mustered the courage to open it, my face went hot instantly.

He mentioned my favorite café.

Had he been there before? Was he that local? Had I somehow missed him in the crowd? My stomach twisted at the thought—equal parts exhilaration and unease. It wasn’t strange for someone to know about it; it was a well-loved spot, after all. But the way he said it, so casually yet deliberately, made my skin prickle.

I let out a small, breathless giggle, my lips pressing together as I read over his words again. I needed to calm down. Breathe, Y/N. Act normal. But I wasn’t normal. Not right now. I was too warm, too jittery, too caught up in the weight of his attention.

A walk. I needed a walk.

Without responding, I shoved my phone into my pocket and grabbed my jacket off the hook by the door. My scarf—a soft, muted rainbow of colors—was next, the familiar knit worn and comforting against my fingers.

"I know it gets cold out there Y/nn! You're taking this scarf with you- it's my dying wish!"

I could still hear my mother’s voice, warm with fond exasperation, as she fussed over me before I left for college. The memory made me smile.

I wrapped the scarf snugly around my neck, letting the soft wool shield me from the crisp autumn air seeping in through the doorframe. My outfit was hardly practical for the weather, but I had always dressed like this—formally, neatly, a habit ingrained into me since childhood. A plaid skirt, fitted but flaring just above my knees, swayed as I moved. Tights helped ward off the chill, but only just. My dark grey moccasins were polished and proper, and beneath my heavy coat, I wore a delicate white button-up. The heart embroidery around the collar was my mother’s handiwork—stitched with care, meant to remind me of home.

Despite the structured appearance, I was anything but composed. Anyone who truly knew me would recognize the contrast between my polished exterior and the nervous, sweet-natured girl underneath.

I stepped outside into the cold, the late autumn air nipping at my nose and cheeks, turning them pink within seconds. The streets were quiet, save for the occasional rustling of leaves tumbling along the pavement.

-

The walk stretched on longer than I had planned. What started as a way to clear my head turned into an aimless journey, my feet carrying me farther and farther from my starting point. By the time I thought to check the time, my phone screen flashed 4:07 PM.

Four hours. Four hours.

I had wandered nearly halfway across the city, lost in my thoughts, replaying that message over and over in my head like a song I couldn’t turn off. The crisp autumn air had settled deep in my bones, my fingers stiff despite being tucked into my coat pockets. My legs ached, but I wasn’t ready to go home just yet.

That was when I noticed it—the quiet hum of a near-empty park, tucked away from the city’s usual noise. Golden leaves fluttered from the branches above, painting the pavement in warm hues. It was peaceful here, the kind of place where no one would bother me, where I could sit for just a moment and-

That was when I noticed him.

A figure moving toward me, his steps slow, measured, deliberate.

At first, I didn’t think much of it. Just another passerby enjoying the evening air, someone else drawn to the quiet solitude of the park. But something about the way he walked made my breath catch—a smooth, unhurried grace, like a man who never rushed for anything.

My brows furrowed as I squinted. Damn it, I forgot my glasses.

I could make out the tall, well-built frame beneath a long, dark coat, the way his shoulders sat perfectly squared, the way his hands—gloved—rested easily at his sides, as if he carried nothing but time and patience.

A strange feeling stirred in my chest, a quiet knowing before my brain even caught up.

Then, as he stepped into the golden glow of the late afternoon sun, everything clicked into place.

The sharp, unmistakable features. The neatly combed dark hair. The slight tilt of his head, like he had already recognized me long before I had recognized him.

Dr. Lecter.

Oh God.

My stomach flipped so violently I thought I might actually double over. What was he doing here? Had he seen me before I saw him? Was he here because of me, or was this just some freakishly timed coincidence?

My brain scrambled for an appropriate reaction—anything other than standing there like an idiot, heart hammering in my throat.

My cheeks burned before I could stop them, heat creeping up my neck, traitorous and undeniable. I must look ridiculous right now—flushed, wide-eyed, completely caught off guard.

But there was no turning back. He was already close enough that ignoring him would be rude. Unprofessional.

So, I did the only thing I could think of.

I forced my stiff fingers to move, lifting a hand in a small, hesitant wave.

And then—I smiled. Nervous, flustered, but hopefully not as painfully obvious as I felt.

"H-Hi, Doctor!" I blurted out, my voice coming out softer than I intended, almost breathless.

I forced a smile, though I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks. My big, wide eyes locked onto him, searching his face for any sign of reaction.

A second passed.

Then another.

My stomach twisted, dread creeping in. Did I mess up? Did I sound stupid? The silence stretched just long enough to make my pulse stutter.

"I-It’s Y/N—" I started, my voice unsteady, but before I could finish, he cut me off.

"I know it’s you, sweetheart."

My breath hitched.

His voice was smooth, effortlessly composed, dripping with confidence in a way that made my skin tingle. He looked down at me with an amused sort of curiosity, his gaze steady, unwavering—like he was taking his time, drinking in every little reaction, every tiny shift in my expression.

"How funny is it," he continued, his lips curving slightly, "that I should run into you here—right after we had just spoken?"

I swallowed hard. My stomach flipped again, my nerves unraveling by the second.

He was so calm. So composed. And here I was, standing there like a nervous wreck, my thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind.

Whatever little confidence I had managed to build up crumbled beneath the weight of his presence. My body felt too warm despite the crisp autumn air, and I could hear the rush of my own pulse in my ears. Still, I forced myself to nod, hoping it looked casual—hoping he couldn’t tell just how flustered I was.

"It’s t-totally crazy!" I rushed out, my voice a little too high, a little too eager. I winced at myself, clearing my throat and trying again, desperate to sound normal. "I-I mean, I wasn’t even paying attention to where I was going. I must’ve wandered too far—I couldn’t even tell you where I am right now if I’m being honest."

I let out a nervous laugh, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear, willing my hands to stop fidgeting. My cheeks burned, and I prayed it looked like nothing more than the bite of the cold air rather than the sheer excitement buzzing beneath my skin.

I had imagined meeting him—dreamed of it even. But now that he was standing in front of me, watching me with that unreadable gaze, I felt like my legs might give out beneath me.

"I'm really sorry you had to meet me like this," I blurted, my voice smaller than I intended. My fingers fidgeted with the hem of my jacket sleeves, twisting the fabric as I dared to glance up at him. His eyes—sharp, knowing—made my stomach flip. God, why did he have to look at me like that?

"I promise I would have been more presentable— and- l-less shocked—I'm very sorry," I squeaked, heat rushing to my face as I dropped my gaze again, mortified by how utterly flustered I was.

A deep hum left him, measured and deliberate. "There is no need for an apology, hon," Hannibal said smoothly, the richness of his voice wrapping around me like silk. "You present yourself in a manner most... revealing."

He tilted his head, gaze unwavering, studying me as though he were unraveling something unseen. "There is an honesty in moments like these. A rare and unguarded glimpse into one's truest nature."

My breath caught in my throat. What—what did he mean by that?

I tried to piece it together, but the warmth in his eyes, the weight of his words, left me grasping at nothing.

I nodded at his words, dumbly, still trying to process the way he spoke, the way his voice felt like silk wrapping around my thoughts. But then, like a slap to the face, realization struck.

Oh no.

He definitely saw that I had read his message but never responded.

My stomach twisted as I stepped closer, suddenly feeling the need to explain myself, to fix whatever impression that might’ve given. "I—I meant to text back!" The words left me in a rush, my hands gripping the hem of my sleeves anxiously. "I just got too excited—" I stopped abruptly, my breath catching as my face burned. Too excited? Oh god. That sounded ridiculous. Desperate.

"I mean—" I scrambled to recover, shaking my head quickly. "Not excited—well, I mean, yes, excited, but not in a weird way! Just… I thought I should wait until I wasn’t so—so—" I let out a nervous laugh, utterly failing to dig myself out of the hole I was sinking into.

Hannibal tilted his head ever so slightly, watching me with that same unreadable expression, his lips curving just enough to make my stomach twist even further.

"There’s no need to fluster yourself on my account," he said, his voice smooth, deliberate. "Some things are best expressed in their rawest form, unfiltered… unguarded."

I swallowed hard, my mind racing, trying to decipher his words. Was he talking about my message—or something else entirely?"I—I completely agree!" I rushed out, still trying to steady myself, my heart hammering against my ribs. "But—still—I mean, we should set up a time. Whenever you’d like, of course."

I offered a small, nervous smile, shifting slightly on my feet, hoping I sounded even the slightest bit composed.

Third person (Hannibal's) pov

Hannibal watched you with quiet amusement, his sharp eyes taking in every flustered movement, every nervous breath. You were trying so hard to sound composed, but the way your words tumbled out—rushed, uncertain—betrayed you.

"I—I completely agree!" you blurted, your voice carrying that same delightful eagerness from your emails. "But—still—I mean, we should set up a time. Whenever you’d like, of course."

You shifted on your feet, offering a small, nervous smile, as if willing yourself to appear more put together. How endearing. You had no idea how much you were giving away. Hannibal let the moment stretch just a second longer than necessary, letting you stew in the weight of his gaze before finally offering a slow, knowing smile.

"How about now, then?" Hannibal’s voice was smooth, effortlessly calm. "It seems the only thing occupying you at this moment is our conversation. I don’t mind in the slightest."

He watched as you blinked, clearly caught off guard. Your fingers twitched at your sides, your lips parting slightly as if scrambling for a response. You hadn’t expected that—hadn’t considered that he might take control of the moment so easily, turning your nervous rambling into something entirely inescapable.

Of course, he knew you wouldn’t say no. You had been so eager, so desperate for this opportunity, your emails practically dripping with the need to prove yourself. The way you sought validation was almost endearing—so open, so unaware of just how much you had already given away.

And now, standing before him, you couldn’t hide it. The excitement in your eyes, the nervous energy humming beneath your skin. You were trying so hard to play it cool, but he could see it all—the way your breath hitched, the way you hesitated for just a second too long.

He let the silence stretch, just enough to make you squirm, his face giving no hints to how he felt.

"Oh! Of course! Now is perfect!" she blurts out, nodding far too quickly, her voice pitching higher than she probably intended. She grips the hem of her coat, wringing the fabric between her fingers, as if the motion might tether her to reality—might stop her from unraveling beneath her own nervous energy.

How utterly transparent.

I say nothing for a moment, only watching, taking in the way she fidgets, the way her pulse flutters just beneath the delicate skin of her throat. She is trying so very hard to maintain composure, but she is failing spectacularly.

She doesn’t realize how much she gives away. How easily every flicker of emotion plays across her face. It is almost endearing—the way she fights against her excitement, attempting to suppress it, as if I cannot already see through her.

And yet, there is something else beneath the surface. Something softer, untouched by the weight of the world’s cruelty. A rare thing, fragile and sweet.

My lips curl slightly.

She swallows hard, her breath quickening, the silence stretching just long enough for uncertainty to creep in. I can almost feel the way her mind races, second-guessing herself, wondering if she has said too much or too little.

Finally, I incline my head in a slow, deliberate motion.

"Perfect," I murmur, watching as her breath hitched

A/N oh my god I think is the first fanfic I've written since I was like ten, so if you like it tell me :) and if you don't, also tell me. I hope everyone is doing well and I hope to write more, or leave suggestions! Big kisses everyone :3

[bitterrfruit]

i've never done a wip wednesday but i thought it would be fun, so here's a wip ghost x reader oneshot lol

Simon hadn’t accounted for a bird at the till. 

He’d have expected some ruddy-cheeked man with buck teeth and brown-bordered sweat stains on his shirt. The typical clerk at a shithole backroads petrol station, in his experience. They’d shoot him a grimy look, eye him up-and-down with a curl in their lip, all ruffian until he brandished the Sig Sauer he had tucked in the waistband of his jeans. 

That was what he had prepared for. He came to stick the gunmetal barrel in the face of the old bloke behind the register, demand every stack of cash from the till drawer and anything valuable he had on his person, maybe fire at the ceiling if he moved too slowly. Piece of cake. In and out. 

Instead, it was you. 

Sneakers propped up by the register, sucking the crisp dust off your fingers with those pink lips. Reading a book as disinterestedly as you might watching paint dry. 

Unlucky for you, it didn’t make a difference that you had a pair of tits. He wanted that money. 

Your chary little head poked up from behind the counter once he was done collecting his supplies. A few cans of Baked Beans, couple bags of crisps, some vacuum-sealed biersticks. A roll of gauze and a bottle of Dettol for the flesh wound in his thigh. Pack of tissues. Bic lighter. KitKat for a treat. All shoved in the leather duffle bag he held in his fist, heavy with the wads of cash he had already collected from the last pit-stop on his trip north — an offy in a piss-stained back alley in Birmingham. Grabbed a few pilsners for the road from there, too. 

He forsook his urgency as he approached the register, measured pace, duffle in hand. Eyeing you up with each step as if you were a candybar on a display rack. 

Pretty wee thing. 

He hadn’t even shown you his gun yet, and your eyes were already peeled wide, glistening in the bright fluorescent lights hanging overhead. 

None of the goods he intended to pay for. He didn’t need to make that any more clear to you, the guess plastered itself on your face as he loomed towards you. Had his mask on, after all; thick black ski mask pulled over his head, jagged holes cut out for his eyes. No doubt that made quite plain his intentions. 

You stood pin straight, curling the purple cord of your earbuds between your fingers as if some attempt to ground yourself. Not a drop of makeup on, he could see the satin sheen of sweat on your forehead, the plum rings unconcealed under your eyes. Nobody to impress out here. Still pretty. 

“Um, which pump?” You asked flatly, tone meek, in denial of the obvious. 

Your stupefied stare followed his hand as it ventured to the base of his sweatshirt, a frown fluttering in your brows as you all but tilted your head in frightened confusion. He reeled up the heavy fleece, white t-shirt underneath — but that wasn’t what your eyes clung to. 

His hand curled around the grip of his handgun, plucking it out from the waistband and holding it insouciantly at his side. No need to point it at you, not yet. 

Your skin turned cadaver grey as your blood flooded to your feet, eyes bulging with the instantaneous panic that wracked you as though you had been smacked in the face with it. 

“Oh my god — ohm — oh my god,” you squeaked, tongue knotting in your mouth, tears quick to fill your kitten eyes. “Oh my god — y-you—”

It was this, the histrionics, that he hoped to avoid. The tears, Christ, the fucking tears. There wasn’t anything to cry about, not yet, but your eyes glowed sanguine, and the tears that oozed from them were clear and glittery. Rolled dramatically from their wells and dripped from your chin, seeped into the corners of your trembling mouth. All flushed and glossy and he hadn’t even spoken yet. 

There was no blood-curdling outburst, though. You didn’t scream, didn’t wail, didn't scurry around hysterically like a decollated hen. You were stiff as a board, arms pinned flat to your sides. Merely whispered the Lord’s name in vain over and over as if he might answer your call. 

“Please — ohmygod — please don’t hurt me,” you cried, lungs seizing with every word, hiccuping and spluttering like you had just been pulled ashore. “What do you want, you can — you can take anything. P-please—”

“Shut up,” he barked, and you flinched at his abrupt aggression. “Open the fuckin’ till.”

[see-arcane]

So. What was the deal with the vampire in the graveyard versus Orlok’s Nosferatuing around?

SPOILERS INCOMING CLOSE YOUR EYES AND SCROLL AWAY

Von Franz mentions something vague about there being different rules depending on the region with the whole ‘sleep by daylight’ thing being the only consistent rule…

…except that doesn’t add up with what Thomas saw.

He followed the hunting party at night. He saw them open the coffin with the vampire still resting in it, cue the iron stake piercing him, the blood, the scream, Thomas’ startled cry—and then an immediate cut to him coming awake in the inn’s bed, now wearing a cross at his neck (which he tosses) and mud on his boots (proof of his excursion). He saw what he saw.

How did that vampire in the graveyard come to be? Was he one of Orlok’s making? Or was he never Nosferatu at all? Von Franz refers to Nosferatu exclusively as a type of undead that brings plague. That does seem to be Orlok’s gimmick, but the guy in the graveyard had no rats for company. The people Thomas encountered were out and about, hale and healthy, no fretting over plague. So what was he?

I might have misheard, but I think there was a moment as Thomas entered the inn for the first time where the woman doing an exorcism/healing rite involving garlic mentioned the word strigoi. It didn’t pop up in her subtitles, so I won’t swear to it, but it’d be interesting if Eggers went digging around in the Dracula and other vampire lit lore to fish out other variants of vampirism to play with.

But the thing is.

The thing is.

While it would be a good Easter egg hint that Thomas’ notion of hunting Orlok down and staking him in his big rat box was doomed to fail~, it would only add up if we’d gotten concrete on-film evidence that he was really mistaking one kind of vampire for another. All we have is Von Franz’ word that ‘he doubts it will work.’ Thomas, meanwhile, has seen it work and has the memory of Orlok snapping awake and actively stopping him from bringing the pickaxe down on him—if being impaled did nothing, why would Orlok bother to stop the blow?

It leaves the possibilities split down the middle.

Version A: Von Franz was right. Orlok the Nosferatu needed the Death-By-Maiden-and-Sunrise trap to be destroyed and what Thomas saw was an entirely different vampire being slain by its own methods. Potentially a vampire made by Orlok, but not a full Nosferatu plague carrier (possibly something that needs Scholomance study), or else turned by completely unrelated means. tl;dr: Thomas Staking Orlok Would Have Failed

Version B: Thomas was right. Had he been able to stake Orlok through, he might have put him down, or at least left him weak enough for them to bring on blades and fire to make sure nothing was left. Chuck the leftovers in a river for good measure. And Ellen would never have had to die.

Naturally, the latter isn’t as cinematic or thematically satisfying. It isn’t as meaty as Version A. But I can’t help picturing Thomas turning the what-ifs over and over in his head. What if he had been faster with the pickaxe? What if Von Franz hadn’t stalled them past sunset and they had found Orlok still in his box rather than Knock? What if Ellen could have been here and alive and safe if only he hadn’t been too slow, too late, too trusting?

What if…

What if both men were wrong?

Or at least failed to see the entire picture. To really wonder at the how and why of Thomas’ affliction being so different compared to every other non-Ellen victim of Orlok’s. To wonder just what Orlok intended by his drinking of Ellen as consummation by consumption. Surely he did not intend to kill her. Rather, to let her remain dead.

(The broker yet lives.)

((As a man.))

(This is no ordinary plague!)

((Plagues.))

Orlok was a cadaver who lived. The undead must first be dead. Is it not so for every form of vampire, no matter their region?

Ellen is dead. The Maiden become Death.

(He left you to the wolves yet you prevailed!)

((The wolves only came for him by daylight. When sleep ended and Thomas’ heart still beat. The work unfinished.))

Von Franz departs, head hung. Dr. Sievers will stall the formalities of the mortuary. There are dead enough to busy himself with. Let the boy grieve.

Let him think.

Of corpses that are not corpses. Death that does not stick. The sun moves between blinks as he banishes the shriveled carcass of the Count from the room, breaking and burning it.

His love is dressed anew. Clean, for she was never unclean.

(Her breast.)

((There is no bite.))

The sun sinks. Thomas holds a cold hand. Now it grips his back, their wedding bands gleaming. As she kisses his breast, he thinks perhaps it is not so terrible to be mistaken, all told.

They can be wrong together.

[floral-and-fine]

Have My Heart

Enver Gortash x Fem Durge Reader

Summary: y/n wakes in Enver’s bed and finds herself covered in blood as well as parts of the room, but she is unable to recall what happened and assumes the worst.

A/n: Thank you @bhaalbust for all the suggestions and help with this fic! Really made a difference❤️ if I write any more bg3 fanfic it’ll probably be for other characters that you can’t romance in the game. Enjoy!

Warnings: Durge related violence and content and lemon

Y/n sighed in her sleep, her body was heavy but her mind was oddly at peace, lost in a dream of being elbow-deep in the guts of a cadaver, their insides still warm and fresh. She could practically feel blood splatter on her face as she pulled them apart, fingers wrapping around soft organs and squeezing. Her lips tugged upward in a giddy smile, allowing the wave of ecstasy and satisfaction to wash over her as she admired her work. The faceless victim, with dead eyes and a slack jaw, laid beneath her, y/n could almost still hear their screams ringing in her ears.

Rolling onto her side, she hummed appreciatively recognizing her favorite scents surrounding her, blood and… Enver’s cologne. It was a dark and smoky fragrance that encapsulated power. Without giving it much thought, she buried her face further into the pillow breathing in deeply.

Her fantasies shifted from a scene of gore to one of lust and passion with her lover. Enver’s bare body was pressed against hers, the only thing he was still wearing was his gauntlet. The cold metal tickled her cheek as his fingers pushed back a few stray hairs from her face.

She could feel his tongue leaving a trail of saliva as it swept over her sternum, up the mound of her breast, and then teased her nipple, his teeth playfully nipping and tugging at it. His warm wet mouth ventured higher, arriving at the tender flesh between her neck and shoulder, without hesitation he bit her, hard, mercilessly, teeth bruising her skin before they punctured through drawing blood. Y/n gasped at the sudden pain, her back arching off the bed, followed by a low moan. Enver chuckled, nuzzling his nose against hers before he kissed her with her blood still on his lips.

She never knew what to expect from him, he seamlessly could go from tender and loving to harsh and devious and back again. And she loved it, it kept her on her toes, constantly anticipating what he’d do next, wondering whether he would bestow upon her more pleasure or more pain.

Enver sat up on his knees between her thighs, his eyes roaming over her body with a look of ownership as he placed his hand by her throat. The sharp tips of his gauntlet on his thumb and middle finger traced her collarbone.

Y/n bit her lip, peering up at him to see the smug expression on his face. It was no secret how much it pleased him, the control he had over her: his assassin, his partner, his lover.

This was an unforeseen affair, to say the least. She never expected that anything could come between her murderous desires and depraved thoughts, but here she was dreaming about him instead of murder.

Enver’s other hand adjusted her thigh, in order to position his cock between her folds, his fingers curled around her neck. As he slowly entered her, he simultaneously applied pressure to her throat to match his pace. He groaned as he bottomed out, fully sheathed within her. He was still for a moment before he began to move his hips.

Y/n’s hand gripped his wrist as he fucked her faster and choked her harder. Through blurry vision, she gazed at the man she adored. The one who had accepted her in a way that she never believed was impossible. He appreciated her efforts and self-control, validated her work, and trusted her.

Gods, she loves him.

Y/n moaned shamelessly, her eyes were still shut, but her body was now very much awake, she reached a hand out in search of her lover, only to find his side of the bed empty.

It was then as if a switch had suddenly been flipped, snapping y/n out of her dreams. She immediately sat up, eyes wide as it dawned on her that this place, his home, shouldn’t reek of blood and death. Her eyes darted around the room, streaks of red painted the walls and bed sheets. Bloody footprints stained the carpet, and her hands and hair were covered in dried blood.

Had she finally done it? Her worst nightmare fulfilled?

Everything went quiet as she sat alone with her racing thoughts. Y/n had been so careful, she was killing in droves, slaughtering men, women, and children to satiate her urge and protect Enver from herself. But was it still not enough?

She felt sick to her stomach.

It was unfortunate how being chosen left her with no choice, or at least it felt that way. Compelled almost every moment to do her father’s bidding, plagued by thoughts that all led to violence.

It was only a matter of time before this alliance would fail, that one would betray the other, but still y/n had hoped that they would’ve been able to accomplish their plans, and even more so she had hoped that this partnership would’ve lasted longer, much longer.

…

Enver rubbed his tired eyes and stared at the presumably romantic gesture that y/n had left for him at the bottom of the staircase in the center of the foyer. It was a graphic arrangement of bloody limbs and intestines in the shape of a heart. He tightened the belt of his silk robe as he circled around his surprise gift while admiring his lover’s twisted handy work.

At the tip of the heart were clasped hands, obviously belonging to different victims, that had been roughly amputated according to the jagged edges. He could only assume that that was part of her loving message, perhaps something along the lines of staying together even when being torn apart, but that was all speculation, he wasn’t what one would call well-versed in her uniquely violent language.

Gifts and surprises like this weren’t an entirely new occurrence, he had previously awoken to find similar presents such as human hearts tied together with ribbons sitting on his nightstand or strange yet sweet messages scrawled in blood on his bedroom window. But this was by far the most extravagant declaration of affection to date.

He lifted his brow, noticing the trail composed of severed ears, fingers, and toes. He figured rose petals would’ve been far too cliché for his little killer.

Now where did they lead to, exactly?

Enver followed the path, careful not to step on any unpleasant bits of flesh with his bare feet. Perhaps he should make a habit of putting slippers on before leaving his room if this becomes a regular thing.

Arriving at his study, he came face to face with 3 heads impaled on spikes, proudly mounted over the fireplace. It only took Enver a moment to recognize the lifeless faces, they were his competitors, former black-market weapon dealers like himself.

A small part of him was a bit envious that they had met their end without him present, that he had no say in how to prolong their torture, and that they didn’t die knowing that he was the reason behind it. Of course, this was nothing he couldn’t get over, he knew that y/n made the bastards suffer before ending them, but still if it had been anyone other than his bhaalspawn interfering with his meticulous plans he’d probably have them killed or severely punished already.

“Well gentlemen, I’m sure the three of you were just as surprised as myself by this outcome,” Enver announced to the heads decorating the mantle. “But we all knew one way or another that I was always going to come out on top.”

He smirked to himself, filled with a sense of gratification, aware that his lover did this for him. It was a different sort of pleasure compared to when he’d send y/n to kill, she did this unprompted and it was that much more meaningful.

Perhaps later she’d give him all the gory details. Y/n was always eager to relive her kills with him. Typically she’d return from an assassination and immediately start filling him in while stripping out of her clothes right before straddling his lap. This was definitely a beneficial aspect of their relationship, that she got off on murder while he got off on power and control.

“You’re alright,” y/n murmured from the doorway, seeing Enver standing there in his black silk robe, his back turned to her as he stared at the heads on display, it was a beautiful sight, better than all the gore and horror she saw on the way here, which in actuality brought her no joy and only added to her panic.

“Hm, oh yes, I’m fine,” he started, eyes still focused on the severed heads. “can’t say the same for these fellows… seems they met a grisly fate at your hand. Impressive work as always.”

She stifled a sob that immediately drew Enver’s attention. A combination of emotions that she had been fighting had worked their way to the surface, relief, fear, guilt, but mostly just she was just grateful, grateful that he was unharmed.

“I thought- I thought I killed you,” y/n confessed.

He lifted a brow, unfamiliar with the sight of seeing her so shaken. The typical cold analytical look in his eyes was gone and replaced with concern. “Probably just a bad dream,” he said in an attempt to be sympathetic.

Y/n shook your head, “I don’t remember these killings.” She gestured to the unfamiliar faces behind him. “I must have killed them while blacked out, but I shouldn’t have, I’ve been slaughtering and maiming all over the city.”

She took a deep breath. “I must have killed them because I can’t kill you, I won’t kill you, despite the urge compelling me to,” she explained.

His gaze fell upon her, studying her in such a vulnerable yet wild state, naked, eyes bloodshot, hair knotted, dried blood staining her arms and legs, but she was still beautiful in a dangerous sort of way.

“Have you considered that these unconscious killings aren’t a tribute to your god but rather for me?” He asked. “Or do you typically create heart-shaped atrocities for Bhaal?”

It was practically inconceivable that such a perfect and powerful specimen would love him to such a degree that she’d choose him over her god and rebel against her very nature for him. All this blood and gore was a testament to how much she cared. Y/n was truly his.

“For weeks now you’ve been leaving me unconventional gifts and love notes,” Enver explained further. “Do you remember any of them?”

“No,” she whispered.

He smirked moving closer to her, “You subconsciously killed 3 of my biggest competitors and brought me their heads, it’s quite thoughtful in a way, a wonderful present.”

Enver tilted y/n’s head up, his lips lightly kissing along her jaw. “Thank you,” he whispered into her ear.

She closed your eyes as he cupped her cheek, the familiar touch of his fingers stroking her skin had a calming effect. Y/n leaned into his hand, taking in the warmth of it.

“Don’t worry about the mess, I’ll get someone to take care of that. But first,” he said. “Let’s get a bath ready.”

There was comfort in knowing he’d take care of everything including herself. Life as a Bhaalspawn was lonely. Any sort of friendship or family ended in death or abandonment. The only people with whom she interacted were Bhaal’s followers and her butler, Scerleritas Fel. She was honestly scared that she was going to be alone again.

It was so nice having someone who wanted more from her than murder, who saw that she was capable of more, capable of being a partner and a contributor.

She opened her eyes and placed her hand over his, giving her love a rare genuine smile, it was almost sweet if she wasn’t also looking like a wild animal.

Y/n slipped past him and moved towards the fireplace, looking up at the mantle with renewed vigor, her lip twitching upward as she watched a glob of congealed blood drip from the head in the center. Gortash moved behind her, tenderly sweeping away her hair from her neck before placing his lips on her shoulder, his teeth grazing her skin.

“Appreciating your own work?” He asked, knowing exactly what sort of effect it had on her. With a firm hold on her hips, he pulled her towards him, her ass now pressed flush against him, with his silk robe being the only barrier between them.

Flashes of the faces, contorted in absolute agony, appeared in her mind. She could practically hear their screams all over again, they were deliciously ear piercing.

Y/n reached up, her hand clutching the back of Enver’s hair as she twisted her neck to meet him in a sloppy kiss. Her nails scraped against his scalp and he smiled in response, loving how desperate she was for contact, to taste him, to feel his skin.

Her free hand yanked on the belt of the robe to loosen the tie. Quickly, he shrugged his robe the rest of the way off, letting it pool at his feet. His hands immediately returned to her hips, grip tighter than before as he rubbed his hardening cock against the smooth curve of her ass.

She started to breathe harder as his fingers traveled closer to her pussy, which was already slick. She whined, rubbing her thighs together as she anticipated his touch.

“Always so ready,” he purred, his ring and middle fingers finally delving between her lower lips, stroking over her clit lightly before increasing the pressure.

Y/n rutted against his hand as he teased her, fingers expertly circling around her little bud. Enver moved his fingers lower, pushing his middle inside. She was obscenely wet, her cunt squelching as his finger moved in and out.

“More,” she gasped, as he added another digit, stretching her tight hole wider. He was an expert at finger fucking her, moving and curling his fingers just that herlegs turned to jelly. She had to lean against him for support to keep herself from falling to the ground. She cried indignantly as he suddenly removed his hand from her pussy.

“Get on your hands and knees,” Enver commanded, giving her a little shove. “I want you right here.”

Y/n didn’t waste a second, following his orders and lowering herself onto the floor. From this angle, she could better see the grotesque innards of the neck muscles and bones. She suddenly recalled that she had not been gentle when separating these heads from their bodies, she had stabbed over and over, ripping and tearing as she further mutilated the corpses. It had been such a rush.

Teasingly, y/n wiggled her ass in the air, more than ready for Enver to fuck her senseless.

“So needy,” he murmured, taking his time as he sank onto his knees behind her. He placed his hand at the base of her spine and caressed her back without hurry, prolonging the moment, before abruptly grabbing a handful of her hair and jerking her head back. She whimpered, at the slight sting.

The tip of his erection was now so close to her entrance, making her even more aware of how empty she felt. “Ready?” He asked.

“Yes,” y/n hissed as he tugged her hair harder.

Closing his eyes as he eased his cock into her warm velvety cunt. “Mmm,” Enver moaned, “So good.”

His pace started out slow and leisurely, once again taking pleasure in being in control while his poor lover was on the verge of being delirious, longing only for release. Despite him fucking her at such a painstaking rate, she was already so close to coming. Her hands balled up into fists, her nails digging into her palms.

“Faster, please,” she begged.

Instead, Enver stilled, his cock only half in. He couldn’t help but smile as she pathetically whined and tried to rock her hips back to fuck herself. But the hand that had been resting on her hip stopped her, squeezing it firmly.

“Say it again,” he instructed, not at all hiding his smug tone.

“Please,” she mewled. “Fuck me faster.”

The sound of her crying for him was music to his ears. Finally, Enver complied, pulling on her hair as he thrust back in, he bucked his hips harder and faster. Her juices were dripping from pussy down her thighs and onto the floor.

She didn’t last much longer, her walls clenched as came. She collapsed onto her chest, cheek pressed against the floor, her body limp and heavy after her orgasm.

“Oh, that’s it,” he groaned, feeling her cunt practically milking his cock as it spasmed around him.

Enver continued to fuck her, using her more roughly as he chased his own release. Her body slid back and forth against the floor, her sweaty skin creating some friction as he pounded away. His teeth began to grit down as his orgasm approached.

Quickly, he pulled out, his load landing on her back and sullying her even further, dried blood and now semen decorated her body.

“I think you’re in desperate need of that bath now, my dear,” he chuckled.

Y/n slowly sat back up, sitting on her knees, she could feel his cum sliding down her back. She turned towards him and her eyes narrowed, “I should cut you open for teasing me like that.”

Enver laughed, “Don’t be ridiculous, you loved it, every single moment of it.” He leaned towards her and brushed his lips against hers in a simple kiss.

After getting cleaned up, they returned to bed. Y/n rested her head on Enver’s shoulder, fingertips grazing over his skin and playing with his chest hair. The sound of his voice was steady and warm as he talked about the next steps of the plan. She felt grounded with his arm holding her by her waist and her leg draped over his.

Soon, she knew that she’d have to go out and find a victim to satiate her urge, but for right now she wanted nothing else than to be here.

[newkatzkafe2023]

What if Male (Y/N) who is tall like 6'6 and he personally was seriously calm and chill and not get angry easley but when they do it angry it was scary

Now one question-

"How the monkey king well react?"

my second request cuz the first one I forgot to say "monkey king" 😅

Hey thanks for the Clarification i'm sorry I couldn't answer your first request because I don't watch demon slayer. But I have no issue answering this one👌👌👌

(Lmk Wukong) Purrs into your chest like all the time. Your so tall and strong and gentle and Loving. He loves cuddling and spending time with you. One time you were in the middle of a makeout session and exchange was getting Frantic and heated before some random demon came under island and challenged, the monkey came to a fight. Wukong Was mildly pissed from being interrupted And he was getting to the good part. So he told you to remain your spot. Then he will take care of it quickly he'll be right back. But it wasn't all that quick because the Challenger was putting up a good fight And the challenger had the audacity to go and insult. The monkey came on his capabilities of battle. And it was your turn to lose your cool and you jump down leaving a crater on the ground And the next thing anybody know the demon. Challenger was picking up his teeth off the ground and running off. That's what he gets for insulting your monkey king. When you turned back around, you found monkey king half naked on his cloud Drooling with heart eyes he knows he should be afraid But you looked so sexy he couldn't even control himself. What are you waiting for? Come and get your prize big Guy💋💋💋🧡🧡🧡

(MK Reborn Wukong) He tends to blush a light when he stands next to you. Do you love someone who could just tow or overhim? Then look down with him with such a calm, gentle smile, but he would never admit that. Your calm demeanor also does wonders for his type of personality. You don't get into verbal fights too often because you're calm, Reasonable voice helps with his outburst and sometimes it'll feel bad for it, so he tries low-key tries to remain calm like you but sometimes it doesn't work that way. One day, a group of demons came to try an attack. Master tang but monkey can gotten the way of course and so did you. One of the demons was able to get the drop on him to bleed a little bit. That was all it took for you to absolutely lose your mind. Those attackers were basically cadavers by the time you were done with them. Everybody was slightly afraid of you after that but Wukong He couldn't help but quietly make Sexy promises right in your Ear.

(NR Wukong) This man is flirting with you on the daily base says. That's because he loves his big man. How you tower over him and you can pick him up with ease. Thankfully, the mask hides the blush and the drool whenever you come up from behind him. You make him very hot. You two were flirting one day until you guys were surrounded by some demon thugs. Of course, he was annoyed that his time with you was interrupted. So he wanted to make this quick so we can get back to you. He was easily fighting them but One of them somehow caught him off. Guard and smacked them dead in his face. And apparently the smack was hard enough to break part of his mask. And that's when you lost it. You are screaming and shouting and yelling profanities as you beat all of them to a bloody pulp. He had never seen you like this. And why is it incredibly turned on by it. After you were done, you picked up the pieces of the mask and said That you would help him fix it. But he said that he doesn't need his mask For what he's about to do With you now.

(HIB Wukong) He normally sighs whenever you calm around. You're both the chill kind those who wanna be left alone from the outside world. Or his favorite activity being he's alone with you. You can do whatever you want together. Sometimes even adult theme things but that's a story for another time. One time One of Hun Dun's Goons We're Harassing some of the villagers and one of them was bullying little Liuer. That's when you blacked out and turned every single. One of those demons until blood stains and the grass. After that you went to apologize for losing your cool like that but Wukong ran up to To you and kiss you all over your face. In fact, he was frantically kissing you, it was totally out of character Durham. I'm sure you know what happens next???

(Netflix Wukong) This boy is blushing every second of every day. You are so chill and patient and understanding of him it's insane. Not to mention you love to cuddle him and keep him close to you because you miss him alot. He can handle it sometimes, but he's about to love you even more in a little bit. One day, the 2 of you were spending time together before demons ended up attacking the village again and he went off to go help them. But what he wasn't expecting was for the Demons to start bullying and insulting him. Not taking him seriously what so ever. Of course, this was affecting him a little bit because of his self-worth not being where it should be quite yet. But what he wasn't expecting was for you to completely fly off the handle and run afraid with every single one of those demon invaders. None of them got out alive as you went over to check on Wukong. Baby monkey boy showered you with kisses of thanks. And he's quite happy to know how highly you think of him.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG 😇 👍

[blradley]

By popular (ish) request: a WIP intro

KING OF THE WORLD (Adult romantasy/comedy, m/m)

Meet MALEVOLOTH (Loth to his friends. If he had any - ), a tyrannical dragon-king who reigns over the realm of Krazuk with a fire-filled fist. Has burned millions. Will do it again. A proud human-hater, for reasons (no, he won’t talk about it), he lives by the doctrine that only the strongest can rule.

...Which means that he spent the entirety of his five kids' lives subjecting them to horrific abuse. He pitted them against each other constantly, almost killing them to ‘make them stronger’, encouraging them to fight for power and privilege and never displaying affection unless it’s part of a ploy.

…....And then he wonders why he gets brutally assassinated and deposed.

Because he spent 0 time on building any sort of political stability and +1000 time on WAR and TORTURE-MURDER and BEING HORRID, his kingdom crumbles the minute he can no longer terrorize everyone into order. The vultures are circling, as his five children splinter the army to form their own factions and fight each other for the crown, and the surrounding kingdoms throw their collective hats in the ring in a bid to piss on Loth’s legacy as much as possible.

In short: womp, womp, no bitches.

Loth tries to project a personality that is cold, calculating, and oozing menace, to the point that he glamours his body to look far more imposing than he actually is – but he’s the sort of loser who starts screaming internally whenever things don’t go his way. When he can no longer control the actions of everyone around him, he becomes a shaking wreck, constantly catastrophising, refusing to believe that anyone could ever be kind to him without ulterior motive.

Loth spent his whole life (except for. Some very bleak formative parts.) as the despotic ruler of this kingdom. He has completely lost touch with anything outside of the prison he built for himself within his own mind, where everyone is an enemy.

MALEVOLOTH SONGS: You’re Nobody Till Somebody Wants You Dead (Saint Motel); To Ashes and Blood (Arcane, Woodkid); King of Disappointment (Echoes)

Enter AZRAEL DE LIONHART, a young human man who’s been on the run from Loth his entire life (he was prophesied as a baby to be the one to eventually slay him. Loth, unable to be Normal about anything, has been hunting him ever since).

He’s thoughtful. He’s kind. He’s warm-hearted, and seems to actually care about the endless human collateral of the wars sparked by Loth’s heirs as they bicker over the crown. Despite the absolute hell Loth’s put him through, he doesn't succumb to trauma and darkness. Instead, he makes friends everywhere he goes, and genuinely does his utmost to help anyone who needs him.

Obviously, this is all a cunning act to gain the support of the people, so he can steal the throne for himself.

Or so Loth tries to convince himself, with increasing desperation. No one can be that kind. That forgiving. That… handsome. It’s not possible.

Right?

In fact, there’s only one person in the entire world that our noble hero seems to hate… and that’s Malevoloth himself.

Whoops.

AZRAEL SONGS: Dear Fellow Traveller (Sea Wolf); New Eyes (Echoes); Me and the Devil (Soap and Skin); Thus Always To Tyrants (The Oh Hellos)

Thankfully (?) following a near-successful assassin attempt from his kids, Loth is stuck in the body of Azrael's beloved tutor: the erudite imp RIVVEN of VARRUN, who has been teaching Azrael how to fight a diverse menagerie of beasts.

Unthankfully, Rivven is very, very dead, and it's 100% Loth's fault. And all of Loth’s once-legendary powers have been lost to him, much like his corpse, which has been locked in his old fortress to prevent resurrection attempts by his dedicated cult.

If Azrael finds out that Rivven… isn’t Rivven anymore, things will get very, very bad for Loth. If Loth can con Azrael into returning him to his cadaver, where Loth can reverse his accidental bodyswap (and, um, rebuild his exploded head), things will get exceedingly bad for Azrael.

All Loth has to do is get this trusting, naive idiot to guard him for the duration of one eensy-weensy cross-continental journey. Then it's all over for humanity's so-called hero.

…Only what’s that voice in the back of his head? The one that sounds like a cross between Jiminy Cricket and a certain tortured-to-death imp?

And why, with each passing day, does the prospect of killing Azrael become less appealing?

RIVVEN SONGS: Liar (The Arcadian Wild); The Devil Within (Digital Daggers); The Whole Being Dead Thing (Alex Brightman & Beetlejuice Cast)

TL;DR: ‘we’ve gotta kill this guy, Steven.’  ‘okay but. hear me out. what if I romanced him instead?’ ‘but you’re prophesied to kill him??’ ‘…your point is?’

(note: I have no idea how long this concept will itch at my brain, and I'm mostly focusing on my vampire imperialism story & my YA at the moment! but it's a fun background project for me to poke at when I get bored of the others~ intro for the Vampire project will be coming soon!)

[stellar-haikyuu]

haikyuu characters as messages i've sent/received in group chats (pt. 3)

Oikawa (internally, as he aims his serves): sometimes it seems so easy to snap his arm in half

Hanamaki: why did god make bugs that bite us Matsukawa: don’t lose to them, bite them back!

Iwaizumi: LORD I AM NOT YOUR NICEST SOLDIER

Watari: sanity check, how are you guys?

Yahaba (screaming at Kyoutani): THIS WAS YOUR SECOND CHANCE HOW CAN YOU FUCK THIS UP

Kyoutani: "organizer of the group" bitch who assigned you

Kindaichi: this is so CRAZY I DESERVE AN EXPLANATION! i can't let kageyama's pathetic ass be

Kunimi: ughhhh can’t i just say that im at home but cant leave for some important reason

Ushijima: i literally live in a jungle jungle. he lives in a concrete jungle. why is he making my life HARDER?

Goshiki: i’m going to cry coach asked me to give him the paper i was holding so he held his hands out Reon: and? Goshiki: I MISUNDERSTOOD SO I GAVE HIM A HIGH FIVE  Reon: oh, that's fine Goshiki: I WANT TO FALL INTO A HOLE I FEEL SO STUPID

Shirabu: who’s gonna tell goshiki that he’s not the main character Shirabu, again: if he still bothers me when i’m in med school, i’m gonna turn him into a cadaver

Tendou: i once bit a barbie's fingers off when i was a kid Semi: what the fuck

Washijo (ranting about Karasuno, particularly Hinata and Kageyama): why are they always doing things together, have some independence

← part 2 || masterlist || part 4 →

[indigo-constellation]

Your changeling!Daniil is amazing. Your Clara Burakh is amazing. Your totally-normal-scientist (who totally didn't do anything like Jack the Ripper and Victor Frankenstein in the capital! only ethically sourced bodies here!) Artemiy is amazing.

Clara as Haruspex is breaking my heart especially! The way you wrote her being friends with the kids - how Artemiy was once with Stakh, Grief and Lara - and how she has a foreboding feeling she won't belong with them once it is all over, because her role is to protect them, not be one of them! Rat man still found a way to be mean my girl 😭 Also she and Grace are so sweet. Wanted to say that Grace's name (Ласка) in Russian has double meaning: 1) weasel (animal); 2) tenderness. Do with that as you will~

Also Daniil (both of them) is so good as a changeling. I loved that quiet moment he had with Clara on the stage, where they say how odd it is to play like that. Love the eyes of the "twins" being what sets them apart, too! Raven feels like he wants to be a bad guy, but can't quite bring himself. Regretful plague that is also a dead man who is alive but only because the sickness is. Snake being so gentle and kind and seemingly having some sort of planning he doesn't fully share even with the reader. Also Daniil speaking Hebrew! I gasped when I realised. It's also a fun contrast to him only speaking in Latin in the game, especially if we still to see him as Jewish. Makes me really want to see how you'd write bachelor!Daniil! Want to take a look inside his head! I know what I shall read next.

Artemiy having a worst imposter syndrome out of all of them because of coming back home where he was supposed to take on his father's role and finding the man who was a founder of a project that could be called Artemiy's life work is comedy gold. Also his little sister literally living the life he refused! 10/10 no notes. Artemiy and his unfun coming-home-to-steppe party! 🥳 Roots, Rain and Reflection is secretly a comedy.

Thank you for writing this amazing role reversal, don't think I will be able to get it out of my head.

tumblr is so annoying bc I had a whole response and then it got deleted roijepigjetiuheoigj let me try to write what I can remember and hopefully do it better

I literally screamed when I read this ask btw thank you so much

the healers in this fic are so incredibly dear to me and I love them so much, I love getting to focus on them, yes Artemy's organs and cadavers as ethically sourced and fresh as he can get them :D

Haruclara truly deserves so much, she doesn't fit into the Termites despite being a kid herself, half because of the way she was raised and half because of the nature of the story and the separation of Healers and Bound. While also having messy connections with the other two Healers. I really wish I could have more Grara but this is primarily p1 focused so the Bound's role is limited (the amount of Yulia/Rubin/Lara/Aspity I had to cut- istg I was so excited to have an Aspity and Artemy interaction on day 6 but it would've been too long) I will keep what you said in mind though! thank you ^^

Changeniil has been so write, he keeps so much of himself hidden, so getting to reveal those small bits of him like in that theatre bit are great. The hands and the eyes being the main things to distinguish the twins Dankovsky is fun because those are two things Pathologic focuses on a lot, though I will say that there might be more later on. The Raven is a miserable wet beast, the idea behind the twins has been that different bits of Daniil are split up, so and what's fun about that is that it's Plagueniil that has the idealism. He's a fucked up guy held together only by spite and disease but he cares so much it hurts him. The Snake is also a creature, truly, he knows his plan, Raven knows his plan (and doesn't like it at all), and I know how it will fail, the narrators being unreliable is such a fun part of patho. I always write Daniil as Jewish (because he is to me lol) but specifically Daniil I think fits with Hebrew because it is a revived language and as a guy who is trying to defeat death I think it would suit him (also revived language and revived Daniil was an intentional choice) I will say though, idk how well my old writing holds up bc my writing got a lot better while writing roleswap so go at your own risk lol

Finally, Bachtemy, a dearly beloved fool <3 he used to have a much bigger conflict with Daniil about Daniil not being who Artemy expected him to be and that being a lot more angsty but then I started writing that scene and it turned out gay so nice. There's a lot about Artemy I'm planning to go into in chapter 7 so look out for that. Artemy is also 100% the character I get to make the funniest, truly the comedian of the cast, I am putting him in the blender as I write this.

thank you again for this!! sorry with inflicting you with the thinking about it curse lol, it's happened to a few people as I've seen and idk how to fix that (I am also infected I cannot stop thinking abt this au) but this long ask really made me so happy to see and I'm so glad you're enjoying it!!

[the-real-okultra]

i logfb snufkin i saw a sjinglr video of him and nwo i owuld die for that greem man he is so me oh my gokd

[verlaineszz]

CAN YOU STAKE MY HEART?

༒︎ VAMP! Chuuya x GN! Sick Reader ༒︎

ANGST(?) + SLIGHT HORROR + FLUFF!

𓂃 ࣪˖ ཐིཋྀ — SUMMARY! : Ashes and Snow filled the cities of yokohama, the undeads servants rise above the ground, thirsty to sink their fangs into something, news reach you and your lover, Nakahara Chuuya.

You and Chuuya have to survive without getting bitten, trying to survive whilst recovering.

it's one hell of an apocalypse

(inspired by: "Vampires will never hurt you" — my chemical romance.)

A/N: first post!! :D, hey i haven't written in a long time and I've been into vampires, mcr and chuuya for a very long time. This is just a fic i wrote on a whim so don't take it personally since i didn't really think it through enough :<.. It's not very long since i unfortunately am going through something right now but rest assured, i am really trying my best. I'm currently trying out gothic themes

Warnings! : blood, slight g0re, death, swearing

NOT PROOFREAD!

Home is where the news came. You and chuuya got home from work and watched some tv, the news flashed photos of dead bodies with bite marks on their necks. Weird? Right? It was something serious, and bit by bit hundreds of people are already dying and sucked dry, all of the victims skins were pale and shriveled up, as if they have been under the tomb for decades. It was winter and cadavers are on the ground and caskets are in high demand.

Chuuya and you listened in carefully, worry and curiosity filling in the both of you. Chuuya stood up and decided to go cook dinner while listening to the news, it was said that it might be the work of a bat?

No bats around the area have been seen though? So what have caused it? This piqued the curiosity between you and chuuya so you and him, after dinner, decided to do more research about it.

"It must be a virus that infected those bats or something because drinking humans up dry is not normal." you theorized at the dinner table, eating with chuuya as he listens in, occasionally adding more stuff in to conclude atleast an answer that sums things up.

"I dont think so, bats ain't around our area. It could be somethin' else." chuuya adds into the conversation.

The conversation goes on, you and chuuya formulate some theories and one led to vampires, you and chuuya decided to get prepared just in case it was true.

After eating, you go wash up the plates and get ready for bed with chuuya, you took your injections that made you atleast go through the ongoing sickness that was in your heart. You were binded to a demon when you were born, it gave you an ability. Mimicry. The ability to mimic someones voice or appearance for a certain amount of time and that includes their physical attributes as long as you touch their chests but it can only be done once per person, it was an ability like asmodeous Or.. Something like that since you could take on many forms, but the demon that was binded to you was unknown since it was generational, and as time passes by, the demon slowly infects your and the people around you when you hit a certain age, but not chuuya. Since he already has a tenant in him. it infects you inevitably but you only had one suppressant, it was one that was highly expensive and only chuuya had connections to get it.

⋆｡‧₊°♱༺𓆩❦︎𓆪༻♱༉‧₊˚.

The moonlight was bright and it shined upon the both of you on the bed through the balcony, he wraps his arms around your waist and he he gently kisses your hair, he thought about the whole vampire and bat thing and he was praying for it to go away since he only had you by his side, melancholy would've hit him like a dagger through his heart if you were one of the victims, he couldn't let you be one of them.

You look at him with a small smile and he looks at you with eyes of admiration.

The night was quiet and you and chuuya held eachother through it, but agonizing screams were heard outside. Obviously this attracted both you and him, he stands up and look through the balcony, you followed behind him, analyzing what is going on around your surroundings, but nothing was there.

Weeks pass and the situation got worse, more and more people are dying and funeral parlors are getting rich, word about the deaths reach the news and everyone was freaking out in the internet, it was said that a vampire was discovered while mutilating a body, after that news spread it became an apocalypse. Vampires came out everywhere and preyed on anything during the night. Everybody wished it was morning all the time because when the sun goes down into the ground, they immerge from the darkness to suck lives out of human beings and animals.

Chuuya and you currently have been boarding up your shared house and stocking up your injections and food. Everything came to a halt that it was eerie.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

You and chuuya held eachother every night, he'd hold you and caress your hair, whispering — "I'll never let them hurt you, i promise."

He was worried and so were you, you sit down on your bed as he holds your hand and kissing it, he really was the only one you had, this was like a nightly ritual. Every night he'd pamper you with affection.

One day, he goes out to buy more of your medicine and to stock up on the food since the last time someone had to stock up was you, he goes out during the morning and the buildings around were mostly deserted from how much people has died that it felt like a ghost town, he goes and buys food and goes over to the lab to get your injections, but the lab that he normally goes to was empty and was only left with one person that had pale skin and black hair. "Wheres the doctor?" chuuya asks. "he is currently on break, for now."— the person in the lab replied. Chuuya had a sketchy feeling but decided to ignore it and just get the injections for you and leave, he goes do testings to get you your medicine and as he was about to grab the medicine, the person lunges their fangs into neck "agh! Fuck!" chuuya curses as he tries to push the person away but the person was incredibly strong. This was the last thing he wanted to happen. He didn't want you to lose him, after a few tries he successfully pushes them away, tearing off a long piece of skin from his chest, crimson liquid drips out of his chest from the damged skin but made a run for it, he hides his neck. And just runs back home, how could a vampire be active at this time when they're nocturnal? This baffled him but he arrives home and patches himself up without you being aware of the whole Situation.

Days pass and he tries to hide it from you, slowly avoiding you but he craved for you, you noticed this and couldn't help but talk to him. You grab his shoulder and talk to him with a worried look, "Chuuya? What's going on? Why have you been avoiding me? Did i so something?" you ask

He looks at you guiltily but he finally opens up, he grabs your wrist and puts you on his lap, caressing your face and looks down on your neck, his hearts pounds and the thought of just sinking his fangs into you filled him, but he couldn't. He wouldn't. He could never let you get hurt. He holds himself together and just kiss your neck, you let out a surprised noise before Patting his head.

"im sorry." he muttered. The vampirism was already getting to him and he couldn't let you get hurt so he reveals everything to you, your eyes widens and he caresses your hand, kissing it and looking up at you.

"i need you to do something for me and it's for you to stake my heart."

"what the hell are you talking about!?" you replied, shocked and nervous

"it'll save the both of us, remember what i promised? I'll never let them hurt you, doll. " he says as he caresses your waist and looks at you.

He needed you to do it for him, he rather have your hands finish him than his own anyway.

"i can't.. Do it." you reply, he takes out a dagger and he hands it to you, "put the spike in my heart. Please." as much as he wanted to be with you, he wanted to protect you. He blamed himself for getting bitten. And he would never forgive himself.

He says with a serious tone, you couldn't. You and him argued about it that you were crying, he held you close but the lingering feeling of just drinking your sweet blood just filled him up. He holds you close and wipes your tears, his humanity was slowly slipping away due to the vampirism. "it's the sake for the both of us, cara mia." he says as he kisses your nose to your neck, you held the dagger as you decide what to do. He was your lover, you couldn't just kill him!? But this what he wanted. You thought that you shouldve been the one that got bitten.

He kisses your neck and he whispers something, "do it, please.. You have no idea what you're up against,Because I've seen what they look like, they're like ghosts in snow."

Your eyes widens but as he kisses your neck, you feel something cold touch your neck, something sharp... And that trigger your reflexes and you lunged the dagger through his heart. Your eyes widens and you shake in horror to see a dagger through his chest, he was bleeding but he smiled at you proudly and weakly his hand on your waist and his other caressing your face and wiping yours tears with his thumb.

"You know, you still look beautiful, doll."

Your eyes widens but as he says his last words, he was already gone. But you felt something dripping down your neck.. You touched your neck and see pitchfork red.

© All works by Verlaineszz Do not copy, redistribute, or repost on other platforms.

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[fanficsthatmakemybraingobrr]

A Night In Cairo

Chapter 4

Indiana Jones x Gender-Neutral Reader

You’re a Intern at Marshall College in Bedford Connecticut and you work with Dr.Jones, but he sucks at his job and is never there and is always behind with work making you get the short end of the stick. Then he drags you on a trip to Cairo with him.

I actually liked how this chapter turned out! i don't think it's half bad. but i am still very open to criticism! anyways i hope you enjoy! :}

link to: Chapter 1/Chapter 2/Chapter 3

Link to AO3

Regret. That is all you have right now is pure regret. You wish you slept on that damn bed. You should have made him sleep with that sad pile of comforters. You also regret using comforters, you should’ve taken the sheets you woke up in the middle night drenched in your own sweat and what feels like a broken back.

That’s also the reason you’re up so early you couldn’t fall back asleep. If you had to guess it’s probably 7:00 in the morning? Indy was passed out and sprawled across the bed, laying on his stomach hugging a pillow smooshing it against his face. He's pretty knocked out and is sleeping soundly, his face is gently illuminated by the sunlight coming through the window.

You just stare at him.

His eyebrows slightly furrowed.

You seem to be doing that a lot lately. Just starring.

His hair all tousled.

Why are you looking? 

The way the light played on his face perfectly framing his facial features was intriguing. 

Maybe because you've never been able to get a good look at him? I mean the time you spend around him you're always grading things or helping him plan out his syllabus day by day because he didn't do it before the semester started?

You never noticed the scar on his chin- damn this man has long ass eyelashes! 

Stop it. You're being creepy, you're standing over his body like he's a cadaver or something. You turn your gaze to the window hearing the sound of busy streets, the calls of vendors and talk of passersby. An idea pops into your head. This Is your first time out of the US, why not explore the city for a bit? You tiptoe across the hotel room grabbing your things and making your way to the door. 

The minute you step outside it's hotter than hell, you almost want to go back inside but this is a once in a lifetime chance for you right now. Hm? Where do you start, which direction do you walk in? You shrug your shoulders and think whatever and you just start walking. Your Arabic is pretty rusty so when you read signs you're mainly going off context clues. You start to pass by little shops and vendors admiring what they had to sell. The city really starts to feel alive as you take in the small details around you. In the background you hear people chattering, having small conversations About how busy they are today or their plans, the playful screaming of children, the sound of vendors selling their goods. You see how different areas of the city are all unique with different stores and goods available. At one point you see a small cat wandering around. You stop and pet it. You can feel it purr as you glide your hand down its back and off its tail.

As you were enjoying your enrichment time petting the stray cat you didn't notice Indiana come up behind you. He looked over your shoulder watching with a small smile patiently for you to notice him.

Wow.

It’s been like five minutes. Indiana is taken back for a moment. He finds it almost… What's the word, Endearing? that you're putting so much effort into petting this damn cat. He almost feels jealous. 

“You know that thing probably has fleas?” He let slip out in a teasing and joking tone. He didn't mean to say it truly…okay maybe he did. You were a little startled when he talked, you looked up from the cat at the older man and lightly rolled your eyes and let out a small chuckle.

“Your being mean Jones!” you exclaim. Indiana walks over and kneels down next to you in the cat. He extended his hand out letting the cat sniff him, the cat let out a small meow and it nuzzled its small head into his hand. You smiled as he began to pet the cat. You noticed how gentle he was in the way he treated the animal. The cat seemed to like Indiana as much as it liked you. 

“Now you have fleas” you teased back. Indy was caught a little bit by surprise by you making that sly comment but he couldn't help but smile at you.

“Yeah, I probably have some fleas now.” he said while smiling. A faint growl came from your stomach, oh yeah eating. You forgot about that. Indiana laughed as he heard your stomach growl.

“Seems like someone skipped breakfast, come on i know a place that has some great food” You stood up and the cat walked away probably to seek attention from someone else. 

“Yeah, I'm very hungry.” you say with a tinge of embarrassment. Indy then smiled and offered his arm to you. You looked at him a little confused. You let out a little ‘hm?’ and then you realized, he wants you to hold on to him. You awkwardly take his arm and he starts leading the way.

“This place gets pretty busy around this time and… ya know…i don't wanna end up losing you in this crowd.” you look at him and smile. He could have just told you to stay close but you let him keep his pride.

Indy led you into a little hole in the wall restaurant that was tucked away. Once you both walked you took a seat at a table for two in the corner of the small but humble restaurant. The decor was simple but comfortable and it had a warm and cozy atmosphere. The walls were painted a warm shade, with decorations hanging from them. The restaurant was busy with locals eating and enjoying their food. You picked up the menu and realized you could only read about half of it. You looked at Indy and he had on his round reading glasses. They made him look mature and intelligent. The round frames complemented his face.

“Uh Indy i can't read the menu that well…” you say as you sheepishly look over your menu. Indy looked up from his own menu at you and smirked at your statement. 

“That's alright sweetheart, I'll get us something we’ll both like.” 

“Okay..” you nodded.

Sweetheart? You were frozen, you moved your eyes down towards your menu finding it hard to concentrate on it. Did he mean to call you that? Why did he call you that? You could feel your face slightly burn. You found yourself almost wanting him to call you that again.

He did not mean to call you that.

Indiana Jones, a full grown man who has plenty of lovers is failing to suppress his feelings. What's going on? He's never done this before. He doesn't slip up like this (yes he does). Did you notice his slip-up? Indy suppresses these thoughts, glazing his eyes over the menu picking something out for you two to eat. Indy picked something out, called over a waiter and put in the order. There was an awkward silence between the two of you. God this is horrible. Indiana does want to know you better, he never really has sat down and had a genuine conversation with you except once. But that was your first day on campus.

Indiana had just walked out of the faculty lounge with a cup of coffee in one hand and his briefcase in the other. He had just gotten back from Turkey with his father. He was tired, his back hurting, he was behind on work, and did not have much patience. As he turned the corner to his office he noticed someone standing in front of his office door. He sighed as he approached them.

“I know I haven't graded exams but i'll get to them today.” he grumbled as he walked by them and unlocked his office. The person turned their head to the side in confusion.

“Um sir i’m not one of your students..” Indy stopped and turned around.

“What?”

“Sir i'm an Intern, My name is ___! I was told I'll be working with you this semester!” They gave him a smile and extended their hand out to him. Oh yeah, Indiana forgot about that. Oops. 

“My bad,” he said, extending his hand to shake theirs. "I'm a bit out of it today I suppose. It's nice to meet you, I'm Indy.” Indiana Jones then sighed, still feeling tired and slightly irritable after his most recent trip abroad. He took a sip of his coffee and rubbed his neck, as he could feel the tension building up in his shoulders. He looked at the intern and forced a smile, trying to mask his tiredness. "Well then, let's get to work."

Okay…maybe not too genuine, but you two are always so busy from that point on he doesn't know that much about you. 

“So..” Indy mumbled, breaking the silence. “Did you sleep well last night? I saw that you made that…nest?” You finally looked up from the table and at Indiana. You laughed as he called your bed a ‘nest’. 

“Yeah it was fine, just a bit warm.” 

“I'm sorry you had to sleep on the floor, i mean i would have but by the time i came out of the shoulder you were already asleep.”

“No it's okay, I really don't mind!” the waiter came back with your food and placed it on the table. You and Indy started eating and enjoying each other's company. It was nice, you told him about your life growing up and how you ended up at Bedford as his intern and he told you stories about the different adventures he’s been on ending on the last trip he took with his father. 

“The holy grail?” you looked at him in shock. Indy smiled and let out a small laugh.

“I thought it was just a myth!” you added. Indy looked at you with a slight smirk on his face. 

“Yeah, so did I. Even though my fathers obsession with it I never thought the damn thing had a basis in this reality. I always thought of the relic as mythical.” he let out a half hearted sigh and called over a waiter asking for the bill. You pulled out your wallet but Indy interrupted you.

“Hey I've got it.” you shook your head at his comment.

“Come on, you brought me on this trip for free! It’s the least I could do!”

“To be fair this trip is already funded by the college and I'm not paying anything either.” you stayed silent for a moment trying to come up with an excuse to pay.

“Could we at least split the check?” you suggested with a nervous smile. Indy looked up from the bill and stared at you for a moment. Then his lips curled into a playful smile.

“How about this? I pay for this meal and to pay me back and at the banquet tonight you owe me a dance?” 

[porcelainebambi]

Yapping just to yap because I'm going feral

I'm so crazy right now I have to go to work in a while but all I wanna do is yap about fairy god uncle Lilith and all the ways she uses her tiny form to inconvenience and piss people off around town. Like some little bitty bitch bastard imp who throws eggs on people cause eggs smell awful.

She's literally just a little guy flying around yelling at PCs to get their shit together and do their damn homework not suck and fuck every five minutes. Your fairy god uncle hitting your window at night with a grade book in hand aggressively reminding you she still is your teacher and she will fail you.

Now I need to actually draw her inside of a jar screaming as someone slowly pours sweet tea in cause she hates sweet tea and she'd rather be rainbow dash jarred than sit in like an inch of sweet tea.

I can't even remember who made the post but Lilith shrinking is soooo entirely based on this one DOL post another person made that was like "What would various characters do if PC became itty bitty tiny?"

Literally infested my brain but it was what if my worst freak ever to exist was the size of a stuffed bear or a barbie and then I drew crazy stuff.

I lied in my first post you absolutely CAN fuck the art teacher just good luck convincing her because she's more set on fixing everyone's moral issues than she is banging them. Unintentional seduction check #1000 as she yells at someone that they need to leave her favorite barbie doll (Yunie) alone. I'm slowly coming for everyone's PCs to draw them being harassed by Lilith and I haven't even drawn half of my own yet.

I have like 7 and they're all girls because I haaaate trying to come up with funky designs for guys they make me itch. I'll draw them all eventually, they're all varying degrees of slut that fuck anything that moves.

I also have my first ever DOL pc from when I first heard of the game then rage quit because all the assaults were making me violent in game and irl (this is a joke I just got mad.) She ended up in the asylum and I was going crazy working on getting her out of there and treating Harper like shit every chance I got.

I still wanna use her cause she ties in with my mental lore but the game save is on my old phone which moves insanely slow. She's not abandoned just can't access her right now. Definitely gonna draw some crazy stuff with her though because I did make a design for her at one point and she's a very angry person who doesn't like pants and who Lilith loves too much.

Was also gonna draw some doctor on doctor violence with Lilith and Harper because in entirely different stories she's an actual medical professional unlike ugly harp seal over here. But in DOL she's just an art teacher with a suspicious thing for cadavers and illegal medical procedures. Soon you'll be back my asylum baby girl very soon. After a million missing posters at least.

Maybe when I get off work I can go wild again with my art and yappery. As if I'm not gonna be on my phone never shutting up at work anyways.

[uninhibited-introspections]

Tenderness lies in our hands but my hands are empty

Memories aren't just mere neural codes encoded within the brain, they're soaked in countless emotions, each one casting its own hue and weight and I wish mine would disappear, erased from existence never to resurface again. It is a scab I keep picking over so that it scars, a tight rope around my neck choking me with regret, making me rue that we ever met. When we parted, you cursed me declaring that I shall die a painful lonely death and you were agonizingly right, in ways I never wished you to be.

My beloved, you are my biggest mistake, a tragedy I am left in, a curse I now bear. You are a chapter in my life I never wanted to read, a light I never deserved see, someone too good to be true and I was better off without you. On rainy days I often wish that my emotions didn't exist, I long to be free from it all to feel nothing but hollow nothingness, to be eternally dead. Now I cling onto this desire desperately in hopes that perhaps this shall be my reality someday. They say to feel is healthy but what do they truly know about emotions? Filthy phonies! spewing hollow words, singing praises of filth they can't comprehend, burying their head in stuff they are apathetic of. Cowards! yes you all are too cowardly to face the truth, the wrath of buried sentiments, unrelenting currents of torment that drag us under. I am not constituted of life and happiness but of decay and regrets, the sum of every broken hope, moments of defeat, twisted reflections of everything lost. There is only rot; where there should be joy, the bitter taste of what could have been.

Expectations and unanswered questions weigh heavy on me but it's guilt doesn't purify such agony, it stains, it seeps and bleeds into me and I wish it didn't. If only it were some hungry feral beast..if only then it could've devoured me completely, leaving no trace behind so that I can be reborn anew. Don't fall weak to your addictions she once said, such a worthless hypocrite you are my beloved, tell me then what should I have done? was I supposed to be grateful, grateful that I survived through all this, through all this maelstrom ? is there where my happiness lay? rejoicing and celebrating my breathing cadaver? Fine so be it then. So I sang and screamed beckoning death with my soulless shell.

Oh my beloved, I begged it to choke me with every ounce of it's grit and might, to tighten its grip until I could feel it's fury seeping into me. It looked into my glazed eyes tenderly and saw the emptiness there, and treated it with the tenderness that would have made this last, made every moment stretch out in excruciating beauty.. I pleaded "please love me, love me by caressing this broken body and kiss every inch, every scar but you must never, never loosen your grip on my neck." It hesitated, I saw it's flickering doubt afraid of my monstrosity, my stunted malformed mind, the twisted thing I was, I suppose. I pleaded once more with pathetic pity "Kill me if you must, and take me to a new day, a new beginning where the corpses welcome me. Where I am not a stain in this world but something lost finding solace amongst the dead." So it did, it diluted me and made something easier to love, something easier to be, a weed, a fog trembling in the air. As I was never loveable as a child and now I'd grown into an unlovable adult, so for all that I am sorry and my hands are empty.