#romanian oc

[salems-lots]

And the last people for the Romania Game! Matei, an Ananke, and Ana, a Gangrel, who let the GangTM stay in their little tower home (in the Dark Ages. The year 1200. Where the den haag gang is now stuck. Oooops)

[mazrih]

Being a romanian (even if it's a fictional one) is a trying time at the moment. Yes, Kay's long distance friend is also displeased at this.

(am I posting about these two as if this isn't the first time these bitches have ever been mentioned on my blog? ye.)

[giginxtdoor]

Street lamp

Pairing: Josef Q. Hanz/Taylor Jiga-Jamison

F/M

Rating: Gen Audiences

TAGS:

⁃ Exes to lovers

⁃ Flirting in German

⁃ Flirting in Romanian

⁃ Light angst

⁃ Angst with happy ending…or is it?

⁃ Rainy nighttime walk

⁃ Date-night

⁃ Kisses

⁃ Repaired romantic relationship

⁃ Awkward lovers

⁃ YOUR HONOR THEY ARE IN LOVE OMG

⁃ Inspired by Romana Flowers and Scott pilgrim’s relationship

⁃ Josef has a puppy crush on Taylor and Taylor the same

⁃ Marriage Proposal

⁃ Slight death symbolism

Laughter rang out through the silent rainy night. There underneath the moonlit rainy night sky, lingered two people. Silver hair that seemingly mimicked the color of white, black streak marks underneath her eyelids, soft hazelnut eyes that resembled the soft colors of coffee served in the beautiful warms of fall, and gentle brown skin as dark and brown as milky chocolates, whom lingered arm locked underneath a large black umbrella with a man. A messy bundle of dirty gold blonde hair that sat a top his head, soft baby pink eyes, and skin the color of caramel, and a large stitched up scar that lingered across the right side of his face.

Taylor bursted out giggling as she was arm locked with her former lover, Josef. “W-wait..he did what?” She said, through slight gasps of breath and stupid giggles as Josef chuckled, looking down at the girl whose arm locked with him. “He jumped into the damn piranha lake, after we told him not too.. but hey he won the bet money” Josef said with a soft laugh, his German accent evident in his voice. “Why would he do that?” Taylor asked with a small laugh as Josef’s head turned to her. “Weil er ein Idiot ist und Idioten alles für Geld oder Ruhm tun werden, meine kleine weiße Taube.” The German mumbled, which rewarded him with a snicker from the silver haired Romanian girl.

The couple stopped underneath an abandoned bus stop which was lit by a street lamp. Josef closed his umbrella as he sat down on the bench, patting a spot next to him for Taylor to sit. She took the cue and sat next to him, sitting in silence. She admired the night sky, her lips parted and gently curled into a smile. Josef’s eyes lingered on her face while she was distracted by the astronomy of the sky. “Die Sterne leuchten so schön und hell in diesen Augen, meine Taube.” He said, which made Taylor snap out of her trance, turning her head to face him as her cheeks slowly began to redden. Realizing what he said, Josef panicked as he waved his hands, his cheeks just as red and hot as hers. “A-ach schieße schieße.. e-es tut mir leid, meine weißer taube! Didn’t mean to say that” He said, but his tone conveyed otherwise.

Taylor’s gaze softened on his pink eyes, his stitched up scar, his lips, and his hair. The girl scooted closer as she removed the bobby pin from his hair, his long blonde hair draped past his back and nearly hit the ground. “Tu... arăți mai bine cu părul lăsat. Ți se potrivește mai mult decât atunci când ai părul sus, vrabie” The Romanian teased, which made the German male’s face heat up more and his heart race before doing the same to his Romanian counterpart, letting her hair down out of her bun and bow as it puffed out and laid down against her back and shoulders, barely reaching near her skirt.

Josef’s eyes lit up then softened as a gloved hand brushed a strand of hair out of her face and rested on her cheek, with a smile. “You’re so beautiful..just like the day I met you..” He said, though a intense sadness lingered through the air as his gloved thumb gently stroke her freckled cheek. “Where did we go wrong?” He muttered as her hand hesitated but then held his hand against her face. “Meine kleine taube..meine kleine schöne wießer taube” He muttered, analyzing and searching pools of soft hazel. Her eyes reminded him of coffee, the coffee he used to buy her in the cold mornings of January and the hot summers of July, his eyes reminded her of the lovely cherry blossoms that sprung and sprouted about the R.O.S.E headquarters every Summer and Spring. “Josef..it’s not your fault.. you know that. You know how the job is..what our job is and how dangerous it is. If they find me, find us.. w-what’ll happen to you? To me?” She said with a soft panic wavering and weaving into her tone. “I can’t even see a future without you…or June..Vanessa, without everybody. If we get found out we’ll die. I’ll die.” She said, tears welled up in those beautiful eyes. “Y-you’ll die..” She muttered, Josef gently tilted her head up as he carefully wiped her tears, pulling her close into a soothing embrace.

They sat in silence, as Josef held Taylor’s waist, soothing the poor girl. He quietly hummed softly, humming No. 1 party anthem. Recognizing the tune, she hummed with him. He stopped as he heard her hum with him. He smiled as he began to sing. His voice was so beautiful, as if it were a mix between Frank Sinatra and Louis Armstrong with the soft mixture of Frank Ocean’s vocals. She smiled as she sat up and began singing with him, her voice was almost like Nancy Sinatra’s voice but had a gentle tone of Rio Romeo. Taylor arose and she pulled her former love up as they sung together and danced underneath moonlight and streetlights.

As they gently twirled about and held each other in their embrace, he softly reached up to cup her cheeks. Her hand gripped his gloved hand as they closed distance, as they kissed. Her arms wrapped around his neck and his hands wrapped around her waist as they remained lip locked for a moment. Finally, breaking the kiss and finally coming to their senses, their faces both heated up as they let go of each other. “Ach es tut mir leid!“ “La naiba! Îmi pare rău atât de rău!” They both looked at each other with a soft embarrassment as they both giggled before bursting out laughing.

“Mm..hey Tay?” Josef started up, reaching into his pocket. “Yeah?” Taylor said, her eyes laid upon him. The wind whisked through the air as they locked eyes, she completely turned towards him as he took her hand and gotten on one knee. “J-Josef? ce faci..?” She giggled as she watched him pull out a ring, her eyes widening as he slowly slipped it onto her finger. “Wenn wir dazu bestimmt sind zu sterben, können wir genauso gut heiraten, bevor wir unser Ende erreichen.” He said, watching her eyes well up with tears. “My dear, I love you so much that I want to keep you forever. What do you say? Will you be my wife?” He asked, with an awkward smile before grunting as he caught his wife-to-be in his arms. “Yes yes yes yes!” She exclaimed as he chuckled, twirling her around as he kissed her. They were now wet with rain, surprisingly, the bus stop wasn’t abandoned as a bus pulled up to the stop as they excitedly got onto the half-empty bus.

Taylor looked at Josef, kissing him one last time. Before noticing something, when did the street lamp look so…weird? It bent and curved as if it were an acrobat, she didn’t pay it any attention as she was happy. Happy with her husband-to-be. Her Josef. Her pink eyes. She was happy with the man who was now her everything.

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Monster x Reader [Werewolf]

In Romanian mythology, Pricolici is an evil spirit believed to be born after the death of wicked humans, able to transform into certain animals such as ferocious dogs and wolves. The etymology is unknown, although it's suspected to be of Dacian origin, thus going as far back in time as the 1st century BC. An ancient creature has set its predatory eyes on you.

Winner of the Folklore Monster Poll celebrating Romanian history!

TW: obsessive behavior, violence, death

[Horror Masterlist] [More Headcanons]

He can tell it's a dream. Nonetheless, it always feels unbearably real. He can smell the incense, hear the hurried trample of feet underneath him. He wants to open his mouth and demand they stop. No words ever come out, the throat is dry and flattened by heavy despair. It's a dream, after all. The priests march on, and the spears are lifted. For a moment, he's blinded by their powerful, sharp glisten. As he gazes at the sacred circle, it occurs to him just how uncomfortable the shackles are. He becomes somewhat distracted by this irritating friction, so much he doesn't register the instructions given by the mysterious men. 

Centuries later, he would stumble upon an old history book by Herodotus that detailed his misfortune:

"The Getae are the bravest of the Thracians and the most just. They believe they are immortal, forever living, in the following sense: they think they do not die and that the one who dies joins Zalmoxis, a divine being. Every four years, they send a messenger to Zalmoxis, who is chosen by chance. They ask him to tell Zalmoxis what they want on that occasion. The mission is performed in the following way: men standing there for that purpose hold three spears; other people take the one who is sent to Zalmoxis by his hands and feet and fling him in the air on the spears. If he dies pierced, they think that the divinity is going to help them; if he does not die, it is he who is accused and they declare that he is a bad person. And, after he has been charged, they send another one. The messenger is told the requests while he is still alive."

The foreign hands tighten around his limbs and he takes a deep breath in, ready for the plunge. Truth be told, he's not too anxious. The first time was terrifying, but one becomes accustomed to death if it repeats itself, night after night as the years pass and millennia settle over it, like a thick blanket of ash and bone and dust. He doesn't remember the pain anymore, only the bitterness. The wrath. He had no business playing God's messenger. He hadn't wished to be choking on his own blood, rippling violently at the corners of his mouth as his eyes dart over the excited masses. There are claps and cheers, and hope, and peace. Just not for him. 

No matter, if they long so dearly after eternity, he'll become their very proof. A tangible undead, a creature of eternity. Let them gaze at their ardent desire as it claws their bowels out for the birds to feed on. Let them sing praise before their God as their soft throats detangle under his fangs. Before he knows it, the corpses lay mangled at his feet and he notices his horrid reflection swaying in the puddles of fresh blood. 

He has become a beast. 

And just like that, the nightmare ends. It always ends here. He pats the sweat off his forehead with the monotonous vigor of habit. It's already noon and the narrow street flocks with curious tourists and natives on their stroll. Every now and then he will venture into the city, just to get a glimpse of the world. He twists the knob and opens a window, enjoying the breeze that cools his skin. His tired eyes wander around with no purpose. 

That's when he sees you. Your wide, carefree smile as you converse with your friend. You're drawing circles along the edge of your coffee cup, propped over the table, entranced by your discussion. Your gentle laugh rings unexpectedly loud against his ears. He finds himself frozen in place, unable to contract a single muscle. 

"Oh, this trail is supposed to have some really nice sights." Your friend is shuffling through unfolded maps, spread out onto the small café table. "We should leave pretty early though, otherwise it'll get dark before the return."

You groan at the idea. Your friend responds with a chuckle. 

"Remember, our tour guide joked about werewolves roaming the outskirts. Do you want to be eaten?" She inquires with a cheeky grin. 

"You know I have a thing for monsters." You answer with a wink. 

The jokes carry on until the bill arrives, and you eventually stand up and merrily make your way down the street. For a brief moment you feel a cold shiver running down your spine, so you peek back inquisitively. Nothing out of the ordinary. 

Ah. By the time his focus returns, the sun is setting, reflecting its crimson rays over the old cobblestone. You've been gone for a while, so he must've been staring into the nothingness for good hours. He clears his throat, mildly embarrassed by his absent-mindedness. He isn't hungry, so he has trouble explaining his sudden captivation with a random human.

Even more bizarre is the consequence of the accidental encounter. The following nights are devoid of the usual torment. Has he ever had a peaceful slumber before? He can't recall. And yet here he is, vacantly eyeing the ceiling without the labored breath or cold shivers, faintly reminiscing about your amused expression. He frowns slightly at the realization that his recollection seems to contain less details compared to yesterday. Your face is smudged by the intense light of the noon, titled at an angle that allows no shadows to discern the features. What will he do when it's entirely gone? A faceless memory, anchored in the depths of his heart as a reminder of what could've been. Is there some universal law that dictates only misery remains unforgotten, or is he just exceptionally unlucky? Infuriating. 

The overwhelming sensation creeps upon him again. A primordial vengefulness that hasn't yet released him from its cold, bony fingers. For once, can't he be granted fairness? His jaw clenches and he marches out of the room. 

Tonight shall be a feast.

The lights are still on in the little tavern inn, and through the small windows he can make out the lively movement of the people inside. He glances at the waning moon one final time. The world may change, and the years may pass, but one thing has never left him throughout the centuries. Always bearing the same pallid, melancholic countenance, his taciturn companion rises, indifferent to the Universe. 

His back arches outwards, the bones tear and twist, the joints dislocate and the skin is giving way to coarse, thick fur. His eyes now carry an amber glow as they rest on the modest building. Without further hesitation, he pounces on the door and it folds like cardboard under his inhuman strength. The room goes quiet and all heads turn to him. He recognizes that look. A fleeting second of fear and curiosity, before true panic settles in. But they rarely have the time to scream. Just as the vocal chords contract and vibrate, their chests are trashed and limbs are tattered. Splattered visceral remains and blood coat the ground under his feral attack.

You squeeze your eyes closed and force your hands over your mouth to ensure your stillness to the massacre. You were just returning from the bathroom when you heard the wails and the wet sounds of mutilated flesh. You'd ducked behind the wall and hid under an end table. What the hell is that creature? You initially thought a wild wolf had somehow made its way into the tavern, but no animal can be this large. There is a backdoor, but on the other side of this hall. You'd have to sprint across the archway that leads into the main room. Then again, if it's this busy ripping the others apart...

No need to ponder your options much. Silence falls behind you, which means the creature must have finished its horrid sport early. His snout picks up a particular scent and he tenses up, expectantly. Could it be? 

The wooden parquet tiles creak under the weight of foreign footsteps; a human approaching you. You look up from under the table. Has someone dealt with the beast? Although you immediately regret revealing yourself. You freeze in your spot, hands propped on the ground, like prey awaiting execution. 

The man is unnaturally tall, having to crouch under the ceiling, with wild black hair and rough features. His chiseled face is painted red, and his clothing is torn apart and soaked in blood. His large hands end in sharp claws, and amid his ruffled locks you can distinguish animal ears. 

There you are.

Well, quite the irony to meet you here of all times and places. From this distance, you look even prettier. He bends over slightly to examine the details that have faded since the first encounter. A surreal experience, really. Seeing you kneel right in front of him and not as a figment of his imagination. He extends his fingers over your face and presses his nails in, leaving a vague trail of swollen, red skin. What a frail being you are.

"Your friend is alive, by the way." His deep, dissonant voice pierces the silence.

"O-oh." You gasp. You were so anxious you barely understood the meaning of his words.

"You may check on her if you so desire, however..." 

He considers it. Normally, even after allowing his anger to seep into cadavers and ruins, all he's left with is disgust and emptiness. Yet your presence seems to fill him with unfamiliar comfort. If one is drowning, is it truly selfish to hold onto the first thing that keeps them afloat? The only people who'd condemn such beggar are the ones that have never been underwater. They don't know what it's like to have your lungs tighten and collapse under the heavy pressure, waving your arms towards a surface that's never reached. 

"...You'll be coming with me afterwards."

You can only stare.

"Don't worry, I won't kill you." He attempts to simulate a smile. "I suppose I'm not too convincing like this", he jokes as he gestures towards his body, "But you have my word I'll never harm you."

"Why, though?" You manage to stutter, frowning in confusion. 

He's taken aback by your inquiry. Perhaps his statement is indeed more threatening than anything else. On the other hand, he hasn't conversed with humans in...longer than he can remember. What might pose as convincing in this case? Drawing out a rose and confessing his undying love among the bodies he murdered feels rather ridiculous. Suddenly, a passage he's once read comes to mind. At the time, it depressed him greatly. Now it feels like the only fitting reasoning.

"Do you believe in destiny? That even the powers of time can be altered for a single purpose? That the luckiest man who walks on this earth is the one who finds… true love?"

"Isn't that from Stoker's Dracula? How is it-" 

You pause and search his eyes. Golden trenches of loneliness and gloom. Your heart is heavy and your mouth curls into a grimace the longer you stare into these pools swirling with agony. 

"I understand." Is all you can mutter as you stand up. 

Have you had a choice to begin with? Not even the frothing waves of a storming ocean can come between a dying man and his only raft. 

[plumbobem]

support your family's (harmless) conspiracy theories this Thanksgiving.

Naomi: Oh my god, my stomach hurts. [still laughing] And we didn't even start eating yet. Vinny: You guys never take me seriously. @catharsim

[jester-w-n0n4m3]

MY CHRISTMAS PRESENT FOR Y'ALL

@wyervan (sneakily summons you and gives u the silly bat I made)

[gallonsoblood]

WHERES YOUR HEAD AT?!

Londons sexiest divorced gay woman (her wife left bc she got those fuckass bangs/j)

Guys im rly rly proud of this if this flops gonna b so sad

Color alts:

[marabow]

(the drawing on the header made my Oana Befort)

୨⎯ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐃 ⎯୧

Yandere Male Vampire/Strigoi x Gn! Human! Reader

𑁍 Cw; depictions of death (animal(mentioned) and human), manipulation, gaslighting, threats

𑁍 Woah, first story on this blog (sorry if it's short)! I haven't seen any stories on writing websites involving vampires who aren't necessarily these rich charming siren-like creatures with huge castles, so I decided to be (probably) the first person to write about vampires without inspiration from the story of Bram Stoker. (I'll write a more detailed book with this plot and characters, so this is kind of like a little teaser) (I'll also change most of the things in the book, so don't expect everything to be like in this oneshot)

The morning sun began setting softly, leaving the simple dirt road towards the village of Nectarari, a simple and ignoble village miles away from Bucharest. Yet another day at work on the field, yet another painful day for the simple son/daughter of the farmer Dragos Spiridon, a very well respected man in the village for his ability to read the newsprint, even if he was just as simple and poor as everybody else in the small village. (Y/N) was walking beside their father, who was riding their family horse, Tinca. They could almost see their vision blur as they were walking, but they had to stay determined and keep walking.

"Diii, Tinca! we need to hurry home!" The much older man shouted. He seemed to ignore that their child was feeling quite tired. It must've been from all the work they did. 

"Tata, why couldn't Filoftea come to help us? Or even Lizuca." (Y/N) asked their father about their two sisters, yet he didn't answer, just busy making the old mare continue trotting. Seeing as the man didn't answer, the (h/c) haired boy/girl sighed, continuing to walk, even if their legs felt like giving up.

"My dear (Y/N), you know that your older brothers are in Bucharest selling the fleece of our sheep and that your sister Lizuca needs to learn for school, right?"

"Well, why can't Filoftea help us too? She's the same age as me, and she has the same strength."

"Filoftea caught the eye of Liviu Popa. She needs to remain home in the village so that she won't become any less beautiful to that young lad." (Y/N) hated that their father obviously loved their siblings more than them. It was as clear as day that they were just going to always help him with trading, as they were basically a nobody. They never went to school as their father could afford only for Lizuca and little Arsenie, they weren't as strong and charismatic as their brothers, Nectarie and Radu, who were now in Bucharest, probably never returning to the village, and they weren't as beautiful as their twin sister Filoftea, who caught sweet eyes from the priest's son, Liviu. In short, they didn't have such a bright future.

But even so, (Y/N) was strong… or at least, they tried their hardest. Right now, they felt as if the sun was burning them up, even if it was still dark out as the sun hasn’t hit them yet, as if Dracu was punishing them. They couldn’t carry the weight anymore, their arms like gelatin, and the crops they were holding on their back being the only reason they kept going without falling. (Y/N) looked to their left, where they saw a flock of sheep following a man in a wooly coat, a man they’ve never seen before, a man with whitish-blond hair from what they could see. He kept walking with the sheep, and slowly disappeared as the sun appeared, as if he was never there. The young man/girl dismissed it, knowing it was just a traveler.

Once they entered the village, a herd of people gathered around the village center to see Baba Ilinca, weeping as the people tried to interrogate her. "Azorel... he had no more blood in his small canine body..." she was stuttering. The old wise widow was shouting about how she saw an ugly humanoid, with eyes as dark as the devil's, but nobody believed her, except for of course, Priest Popa, Liviu's father.

(Y/N) didn't believe it either. Maybe another animal attacked the dog during the night. The dog's body was nowhere in sight, so they couldn't exactly speculate what killed him, but they did think another animal killed the dog, since what heartless human would kill a poor old dog?

The father and his child walked back to their small humble abode, a house like every other in the village. Before they could enter, they found a flock of sheep surrounding the house, and a young man on the porch of the house, hiding under the shadows of the roof, where baskets of flowers were dangling, the only thing differentiating the house from the others in the village. Little Arsenie seemed to have been on his way to school but stopped, as he was looking at the man who was sprawled on the floor, in a deep sleep of some sort, meaning that he didn't appear too early.

"Arsenie, go to school." The father said, dismissing his son. Arsenie obeyed his father and started running to the village center for school. (Y/N) remained with their father, as their father picked up the young man from their porch, and proceeded to take him inside. (Y/N) knew their father cared deeply about the village people, but they knew this man was not from the village. He looked like a transylvanian saxon, from how pale his features were, and from his attire which looked a little different from the clothing they had here in Wallachia. Their father laid him on one of the two beds they had in the whole house, and let him rest. "(Y/N)! Go make some soup for this boy. He looks like a traveler who isn't in good shape."

(Y/N) obeyed their father and went to make some soup, which they then brought to the unconscious man. Their father left them alone, so they sat next to the blond. They knew they saw this man before, earlier on the field, but they wonder... what happened?

Almost an hour later, he woke up, looking around with his tired brown eyes. "Where am I...?" He muttered, in an accent (Y/N) understood was hungarian.

"You're in the county of Ilfov. You must've wanted to go to Bucharest, right?" (Y/N) asked, as they picked up a wooden spoon, presenting it to him, which he politely declined.

"Not quite. I just ran away from home with my sheep... where are they?"

"Don't worry, they're outside, waiting for you. But please stay here, you aren't in great health to continue your journey."

The young man nodded, as he continued resting on the pillow. (Y/N) got up to walk away, but the man kept his grip on their hand, even if it felt weak at the moment. "Please... stay by my side..."

(Y/N) was a little surprised, but obliged nonetheless, as she knew he didn't feel quite right at the moment.

(Y/N) soon learned his name was Vasile. Vasile Eliade. He was a young man from Transylvania, more specifically Cluj Napoca, who ran away from home after a fight with his adoptive parents. He lived a pretty wealthy life in the big city, but he remained with nothing to his name. A few months prior he lived in Sibiu, where he became a shepherd, and was supposed to take them to Bucharest next so they can be sold for their fleece.

Vasile and (Y/N) became friends quickly, which managed to convince (Y/N)'s father to let Vasile live with them, with the condition that he took care of the animals, not only his sheep, but also the Spiridon family's pigs, cows, horse and chickens.

Life was going smoothly for the family, as Filoftea married Liviu, Arsenie and Lizuca finished the school year, Arsenie being top student of the village's younglings, meanwhile Lizuca was just average in school activities. Even (Y/N) started learning how to read and write from their new blond friend

Though, Filoftea wasn't quite happy with her life as Liviu's wife, which made her try to pursue a secret relationship with Vasile, as he was 'more fun'.

(Y/N) didn't pay much attention to it, but Vasile, even if he was polite and 'loyal' to the family, didn't like it one bit. He was starting to grow feelings for the hardworking man/woman with the name of (Y/N). What once was just prey to him, another flesh to be eaten, became his equal slowly... or something more.

It has been a year since Vasile arrived to the village and became sort of like a part of the family. The family business was growing quite better since last year, which made the family quite happy. In the backyard laid (Y/N) and Vasile on the grass, as the autumn leaves started falling, and the gentle breeze of the wind was fanning their faces.

"(Y/N), can you promise me something?"

"Of course. What is it?"

Vasile looked nonchalantly at the sky, sighing softly. "Promise me that we'll be together even if one of us does a 'horrible' thing."

(Y/N) was confused. " what do you mean? Of course I'll be by your side." The young man/girl didn't think much. They only thought he meant something like accidentally ruining the family business or something like that, which was horrible enough, but not something to leave him.

"Thank you very much..." He muttered. As he kept staring at the stars. "I think it's very late. Go to sleep with Filoftea. I'll follow you in shortly."

"Alright..." (Y/N) yawned as they got up. "Well, good night."

"Goodnight." was all Vasile said, as (Y/N) walked back inside. "I love you."

(Y/N) was met with Filoftea, sleeping in the bed their father usually slept in, as he was away with Liviu to visit Radu, (Y/N)'s older brother, in Bucharest so that Liviu can 'take a break' from Filoftea's neediness, as she became very needy after getting pregnant.

(Y/N) slept on the opposite bed, the one where their younger siblings slept in right at the moment. 'Poor Filly..." (Y/N) thought, thinking about how Filoftea was alone and pregnant, with a husband who always ran away from his responsibilities. Soon, their eyes closed, falling asleep.

They woke up to the smell of blood hitting their nose. Opening their eyes, they saw everyone was asleep... except of Vasile who... was next to Filoftea. (Y/N) didn't think much, due to their sleepy state making them think he was only pecking her neck with kisses. But they realised that Filoftea was asleep, meaning that this was breaking her boundary. They quickly got up to scold Vasile, only to see... a pool of blood on the bed. Filoftea's eyes were frozen in a contorted face of fright, pale like a blind person's.

"Filly...?" was all (Y/N) muttered as Vasile looked at them with a look of hunger. That's when (Y/N) realized. Those dark eyes... the blood on his lips... Baba Ilinca was right about her dog being sucked dry by a strigoi... as the strigoi was right in the village, right in the Spiridon residence, right in front of somebody who didn't believe in them.

"(Y/N)... Iubirea mea!" Vasile got up and smiled insanely, his teeth sharp and coated full of blood. (Y/N) then realised why he never shown his teeth, or talked in mutters. Not because he was tired, or from another reason that wasn't the fact he was a blood sucker! "Don't be frightened. I love you so much, it'd pain me for you to be scared. Come now. Help me put your pesky harlot sister outside so the soil will become stronger!"

"I can't help you... you're not human... you're not man at all..." The twin of Filoftea muttered, as they began backing away. Vasile didn't take this too kindly, as he ran to them, and held their wrists with his tight grip.

"YOU WILL HELP ME. I AM YOUR ONE TRUE LOVE! YOU PROMISED YOU'D HELP ME! YOU'RE JUST AS MUCH OF A MONSTER LIKE I AM IF YOU'D RATHER HELP SOMETHING THAT IS NO LONGER BREATHING THAN YOUR TRUE LOVE!"

(Y/N) wanted to kick him off them, but they couldn't. "If you do anything rash, the young children will meet the same fate, and it'd all be your fault!"

"Now, choose wisely. Will you become like me, or will your family meet the same fate. Nobody will blame me, they'll only blame you, as it is your fault. I wouldn't want my one true love to feel the pain of having their head cut off, and neither would you like that fate..."

"Right?"

A/N: Sorry if this was short and rushed, I wrote all of this in one day, and I don't want to spoil my book in any way. Hope you guys enjoyed this story, and make sure to give me more ideas for stories in my inbox! Have a swell day everyone!

© PLEASE DO NOT COPY OR EDIT ANY OF MY WORK WITHOUT PERMISSION. THANK YOU!

[deletedaccd]

dont be mad. please

@cry-ptidd

Please dont be mad at me-

So a few months ago i made the drawing of Michael and Laura shittalking you in the manor, and i will admit, getting a response made my day

And I will admit

I am absolutely in love with your art, and Laura

So i wasnt sure about posting these because i didnt want to seem like a weirdo, but i spent time on these so-

Here:

I dont know why i can imagine these two being good friends, and these original pictures made me snort and since i was bored, i drew these guys

[shanyafromstar]

This meme features official art of Curse of Strahd and some art from my favorite artists: @casketsanctum , @calebisdrawing , @vodoriga-art , @anae-art , @luckyblackcatxiii. I am very happy to discover Ravenloft and see the work of such amazing artists!

[jetaloen]

alectos hair looks like this now, like desch from ff3

[languages-i-guess-comic]

Lig folk details close-ups

Sorta moodboard?

[canonically47]

i love projecting onto my favs. completely related seong gihun has romanian heritage

[lumilasi]

Guess this is a good way to kick off pride month. I had this scene in mind forever, but having the motivation to draw a comic is always very limited with me, and I still wish I had the patience to make the shading less sloppy. Ah well.

Side note: Mihail speaks Romanian, as he spent most of his human-form life there/considers it his mother tongue despite not actually being born there, so that's the language he's using (saying "yes madam" and "Thanks" if my research is correct. I hope so at least).

(He was born I.E 'manifested' in Ukraine, (TLDR: He's a Grimmhound, they aren't born biologically as they are spirit beings) but lived most of his life in Romania. He still has a Slavic accent, that tends to come through when he's super emotional)

I was kind of uncertain how to include him speaking Romanian in a "natural" way, until I remembered that oh yeah, I'm bilingual too (I keep forgetting it because English is so incredibly common to use in everyday life here lol). So, I kinda thought about how I sometimes use English and Finnish together, and based it on that.

The BG stuff uses photos I've taken, specifically the windows.

(Aiden belongs to my friend @mad-hatter-rici)

[tired-ppth-immunologist]

i'm curious now, what languages do you speak?

Ah, well, I can speak Romanian (since it’s my mother-tongue), English, German, learnt Scottish Gaelic as a hobby in college, and I’m currently studying Greek, for my mother was from Greece and I’d love to feel more connected to her.

Odd list, I know, but I think it’s helpful knowing some foreign languages, no matter how random.

[gallonsoblood]

Day 102939147 of drawing ocs Kyle doesnt even sound like a word anymore someone help me