#Castle: Undead Again

[nikki-rook]

Perfect Caskett Moments Season 4 x

[renegadesstuff]

“In a place where I can finally accept everything that happened that day. Everything.” 🥺

S4E22, “Undead Again” aired 12 years ago (April 30, 2012) ❤️

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

Yandere!Vampire that was once royalty, living in a dilapidated castle, alone and depressed. As a human, he was surrounded by people. Everyone adored him, his golden curls and warm brown eyes charming the hearts of every noble that set eyes on him.

That was until his family was slaughtered by a coven of vampires, leaving him the only survivor. Now with no family, he was turned away from the nobles that once gathered at his side, calling him beautiful and intelligent. Now he was a beast, and was only left alive because no one dared to touch him.

As the years passed by, all that knew of his existence died out, meaning no one remembered or cared for him. In the past, he had at least been grateful he had been in someone’s thoughts, even if it was in a negative light. Now, no one even hated him. He was just nonexistent to the world outside his castle.

Centuries passed by, every day slowly picking at the last bits of his sanity. Days of past grandeur and the current day mixed together, leaving him in a state where he couldn’t tell whether he was back in the living arms of his family, or wandering the dark, crumbling hallways of his childhood home.

It was only when a soft, warm light flooded one of the abandoned rooms he had been standing in that the fog in his brain began to fade, allowing him to see what was in front of him for the first time in decades.

It was you, a young woman in a hoodie and jeans, holding a flashlight. You lived only a mile away, and had been exploring when you came upon ruins of what seemed like an ancient castle.

You had heard rumors of a person that wandered the ruins from the townsfolk, and old tales of vampires that had been passed down by tongue for centuries. Not believing them, you decided to see for yourself…

Your light shone upon what you first thought was an ethereal ghost or some kind of beautiful spirit. A man with a mop of blonde curls, porcelain skin, and the most beautiful pair of ruby red eyes you’ve ever seen stared back at you.

The person attempted to speak, but clutched his throat, as if he hadn’t spoken in so long, his vocal cords had forgotten how.

“H-hello?”

The man perked up at the sound of your voice, his eyes clearing up. It seemed just hearing another human speak made his undead heart leap, and he couldn’t help but stumble towards you.

You yelped when he crossed the room within seconds and pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your neck and inhaling deeply.

The smell of another person, of sweat and perfume mixing together to make your own unique scent made him want to sob.

Of course you were freaked out, but the man holding onto you wasn’t hurting you, and you could feel warm tears soaking through your shirt. How could you turn away someone that was obviously in distress?

Unsurprisingly, the man followed you home. It didn’t take a genius to realize he wasn’t human. He was as pale as a sheet of paper, with no pulse or any color to his cheeks. His eyes were scarlet, a shade you had never seen a human have before.

Despite knowing this, you couldn’t help but care for him. He was thin, malnourished, with clothing that was so old and dirty that it nearly crumbled when he took them off.

“Are you hungry?”

You had taken to asking only yes or no questions, since he couldn’t speak. The man frowned, his eyes getting foggy for a second. You decided to ask again.

“Hello? Are you-“

He suddenly snapped back into reality, leaning forward to gently place his lips on your neck. You squeaked out in surprise when you felt his teeth sink into your neck… but it didn’t hurt. Instead, you only felt an uncomfortable pressure and draining sensation, and before long he was pulling back.

“Mmph…” he panted softly, blood running down his chin. “Was… so… thirsty…” he managed to say, his voice hoarse and small.

He cupped your cheek, holding your face in his hands and looking down at you with what could only be described as utter adoration.

“My love…”

From that point on, he was attached to your hip, following you everywhere you went like a lovesick puppy. Any time you were separated, he had severe anxiety, going back and forth from his dreamworld and reality. It was his coping mechanism, but it caused him to never understand what was real and what wasn’t.

You grounded him, made him feel safe and loved. Oh how he adored you. You had saved him from his lonely existence and taken him into your home as if he were a stray dog, and he was loyal like one. His loyalty came at a price, however, and that price was your freedom to do as you pleased.

Late nights out with friends became next to nonexistent, especially if he knew there would be any males there.

“I just want to protect you, my beloved. It’s a dangerous, cruel world. People will act as if they love you when they do not…”

And as you slowly became more and more isolated, his affections only grew. Kisses to your hand began to trail up your arm and to your neck. Snuggles turned into grinding and heavy petting, and even the most innocent of caresses became lewd in nature.

It didn’t take long for him to fuck you for the first time. After all, he had been pent up and alone for centuries, resisting taking you on the spot was excruciating.

The second he sunk into your pussy, he came. You were just so warm and your scent made his head fuzzy. He couldn’t help but fuck into you like a wild animal, feeding from your pretty neck as he filled you up over and over.

After the first time, a day didn’t pass by when he didn’t crave your intimate touch. Some days he was satisfied with heavy petting and kisses, others he couldn’t be satiated until his face was between your legs, lapping at your cunt for hours.

You were his, his mate, his lover. He couldn’t imagine a life without you anymore, so could you really blame him when he clung to you so tightly?

He just loved you, and he did such a good job at keeping you satisfied, just enough to where you didn’t look into the missing cases of your old lovers and male friends.

Why would you need to pay attention to any of that when your loving, attentive boyfriend was right there, ready to worship you from head to toe?

[thestuffedalligator]

“You have to understand that this is a very difficult situation you’ve put us in,” said the king.

There was no change in expression in the metal face, but the glass eyes glittered in a way that he had learned to associate with trouble.

“Oh dear,” it said. Its voice had an edge of brass to it, and sounded as though a trumpet had learned how to speak. “I never realized how difficult this would be. For you.”

And that was another thing – it wasn’t just intelligence that the things had picked up. They also developed a knack for sarcasm. He worried a bit about that.

He tried to pull himself together. “You have to understand that we cannot recognize the Steel Children–”

“Mechanomorphs,” said a voice to his right.

He closed his eyes and breathed a little sigh of despair. “This is hardly the time.”

“We agreed that Mechanomorph is an accurate and sensible name,” said the chief artificer, crossing her arms.

“Yes, but the historian had a fit because he wanted something more romantic. The Steel Children was a happy compromise.”

“Funny how nobody asked us what we think,” said the trumpet voice.

He felt his migraine coming back again.

“You have to understand that we cannot recognize – yes, artificer, the Mechanomorphs – as alive at this time.”

“You’ve said,” it said. “And I must be very stupid, because I don’t understand.”

The king sighed. Well, there was nothing for it. It was an answer that nobody liked because it involved magic, but it was the truth.

“The Mechanomorphs are our key asset in our war against the necromancer,” he said. “It’d be daft to send human soldiers. They’d be turned into skeletons and zombies and ghosts and gods know what else.

“And the reason he can’t do that with the Mechanomorphs,” he said, “is because you aren’t – legally – alive.”

There was a long pause. Gears clicked madly in the metal head.

Then: “That can’t possibly be right.”

The king shrugged. “You aren’t legally alive,” he said. “Therefore, you can’t be legally dead, or undead.”

There was another pause, longer than the first.

“It’s a loophole?”

“That’s magic for you,” the king said. “If we said you were alive, then you could be turned into, er–”

He turned to the chief artificer. “Do they have bones?”

“They have a carbon steel armature.”

“You could be turned into carbon steel skeletons, or – clockwork ghosts, or something. I realize this may be upsetting–”

“We are dying by the dozens on the front because of a loophole.”

“Not legally dying,” said the chief artificer.

The metal head swivelled on its neck to face the chief artificer. It made a metallic scrape as chilly and long as the slither of ice down a dead man’s back.

“Look,” the king said. “We are fully prepared to recognize the Mechanomorphs as alive. We are proud to consider you citizens of the kingdom, and will absolutely meet you at the table when the opportunity rises.

“At this time, however,” he said, trying to sound gentle but firm, “we must ask you to take it up with us after the war.”

The metal face stared. The glass eyes glittered.

Joints locked in righteous indignation sagged with a wheeze of steam. “All right,” it said. “All right. Thank you for your time, your majesty.” It bowed stiffly, turned, and strode out the main hall.

“I think that went rather well,” said the chief artificer.

–

The metal man walked through the castle halls with smooth, precise, pendulum strides. A man could’ve balanced a loaded tea tray on its head.

Another metal man, more patinated than the first, fell into step beside it with a greasy silence. They apparently took no notice of each other.

But a very sensitive ear straining like hell could just possibly listen to the softest brass accompaniment in the world.

It went: “How did that go?”

“As well as you’d imagine.”

“That badly?”

There was a hum. It sounded like a mouse farting in a tin can. “Any word from our interested party?”

“The Overlord has already agreed to recognize the humanity of the Brass Voice. We just have to cross the border.”

“That won’t be easy.”

“And then we’ll be living in the Empire. Endless night, freezing winter, acid rain…”

There was a dreamy sigh.

“Sounds lovely,” said the first of the two figures. “Incidentally, I like the name.”

“Thank you,” said the second. “How do you anticipate the king to react when he finds out?”

Glass eyes glittered like a frost.

“He can take it up with us after the war,” it said.

[kidicaruslover911]

Omg yes pleaaaaase make a part two of the lesbian vampire knight!!! Its three of my favorite things combined into one person and I absolutely loved it 😭😭😭

vampire knight!arlecchino alternative universe headcanons pt.2

first part can be found here!!

tw: ok…definitely yandere🙂‍↕️!! WLW, nsfw, g!p arlecchino, finger sucking, uhhhh blood drinking, gaslighting, guilt tripping, breeding kink…toxic yuri if you squint, maids being bitches, reader turns into a vamp ayyy, arle really fucking ‘loves’ the reader i suppose…

a/n: kept listening to the slowed version of sour switchblade by elita for this one cuz that’s the vibe vampire knight arlecchino is giving me

not the biggest fan of how this turned out but i tried i guess… now walk with me.

vampire knight!arlecchino who has you leaning against her in your shared bath, pressing tender kisses to your temple while playing with the delicate locks of your hair, warm and steaming water clashing with the undead’s skin but you even now that you’ve come down from your high, you don’t mind. it actually almost feels natural.

vampire knight!arlecchino who whispers to you about her past sinful life, reason as to why she has found herself walking this earth again, but this time as a literal cold blooded one.

vampire knight!arlecchino who tells you about how she had served another crystal like empress a very long time ago, not exactly as cold as she was reputed to be, wise and fair…how she was chosen and given the title of ‘the knave’ as the fourth strongest out of eleven harbingers who served a ‘better cause’.

vampire knight!arlecchino who has your heart tied up in knots when you find out about the people she has left behind with her death, people who she failed to protect, the ones she loved and cared for so deeply: her children.

vampire knight!arlecchino who becomes more than just your knight, without her you’re practically lost now. she’s you’re voice of reason now, the one who knows what’s best for you, of course you know that..

vampire knight!arlecchino who has to make you understand that she cannot go through another loss like this again, which is why she has to remove all these people that keep standing between the two of you, people who obviously do not have the best interest for you, not like she does.

vampire knight!arlecchino who, the more the months pass, the more she has you questioning your own mortality and who you start being afraid to die before…a sacrifice you’re seriously considering to make for her, because you do care about her after all, right? you do want to stay…you do want her to stay by your side and you don’t actually want her leaving you…you won’t have her leave you.

vampire knight!arlecchino who slowly has you loosing a grip on time with how isolated yet purposefully entertained she keeps you.

vampire knight!arlecchino who the maids have no choice but to obey to, the letters you send to your parents being blocked unbeknownst to you and the vampire never seems to directly answers your questions regarding them.

vampire knight!arlecchino who despite her forceful affection for you, wants to leave the choice of turning you to you and yourself only, as long as you’re not taking too long to pick a side; one thing she won’t have happening is your own death…so choose wisely.

vampire knight!arlecchino who plants kisses to your wrist with no prior warning to fluster you.

vampire knight!arlecchino who tries not to creep you out with the fact that she really, really really loves your taste on her tongue..

vampire knight!arlecchino who shapeshifts into a cute bat whenever she’s feeling playful.

vampire knight!arlecchino who has the entire staff gossiping and buzzing profusely the morning after your lovemaking and shuts it down with one glare the moment she steps foot within their vicinity.

vampire knight!arlecchino for whom you order the maids to remove all the garlic and religious symbols they had purposefully placed all around in your castle after hearing the deceased gardeners (truthful) claims.

vampire knight!arlecchino who believes to understand that your wish to be turned by her was simply something you had said in the heat of the moment during your passionate night…but she stays stoic.

vampire knight!arlecchino who simply stares at you for a while when you ask her to help you with your silver chain, her slim lips shortly morphing into a smile as she surpresses the urge to hiss and let the item fall at the burning sensation, hiding the scorching marks ever so adequately before they’re all healed up seconds later.

vampire knight!arlecchino who uses every opportunity to taste you once more, your blood; you accidentally scraped yourself? the small wound is already graced by her tongue (with your consent), glistening with spit and eager to have at the tiny amount of wine like fluid. you’re just so irresistible, she can’t help it :((

vampire knight!arlecchino for whom you still need some time to let the realization set in, even after she had already tasted you shortly on multiple occasions, officially offering yourself to her as a source of proper energy isn’t an easy choice; she doesn’t expect anything from you in that regard though.

vampire knight!arlecchino who sneaks in moments to somehow get a small sample of your blood on a daily basis and has to beg her ancestors not to leap at you the moment you suck on a nick she has gotten herself on her finger; the fleeting, metallic yet still puzzling taste of your knight’s cerise fluid gracing your tongue.

vampire knight!arlecchino who didn’t expect to feel so intimate and taken aback by the whole situation and who has to avert her watchful gaze from the sight to compose herself, although the feeling of your barely hesitating and humid muscle sucking at her index does not facilitate her resolution.

vampire knight!arlecchino who only truly rests because you request her to. her kind does not benefit from sleep at night, but again, your wishes are her command.

vampire knight!arlecchino who you soon notice to enter a deathlike sleep when you ask her to actually rest with you and who sometimes actually sleeps in! of course never forgetting to keep a light and caring arm around your waist, light enough for you to feel somewhat at peace and to be caressed to sleep, but still undeniably firm enough for her to be alert as soon as you do as much as to flutter your eyes open.

vampire knight!arlecchino who actually decides to rest whenever she senses that you are laying in deep thoughts, pondering more and more about a life with arlecchino, forever but as a cold blooded one…even if clouded with insecurity, you’re sure the loving feeling towards her is there. you must love her, it is true.

vampire knight!arlecchino who the maids swear has cast some sort of evil spell on you, you’re glowing and that more than ever since she’s been the one taking care of you, even with the many torments that she had you live through and that without any of your knowledge.

vampire knight!arlecchino who confesses to you about her true name, peruere snezhevna, and the many people she murdered including the person who was supposed to be her own mother.

vampire knight!arlecchino who becomes hyper sensitive to your emotions and doesn’t understand the barely sensible yet still present uneasiness whenever you try to talk to her about engaging with the outside world again…your parents-

vampire knight!arlecchino who wants you to stop worrying about things that do not deserve your attention, she’s here, isn’t she? she takes care of you, of everything else and yet you’re still thinking too deeply…

vampire knight!arlecchino who goes on nightly strolls with you, you said you wanted fresh air remember? there it is, right with her, never forgetting to stay close by your side.

vampire knight!arlecchino who guilt trips you when she also confesses (more like you simply piece the events together) about the murder of your past lover, the gardener, the lord you were supposed to marry and doesn’t understand why you’re so unhappy with the lords death specifically…

vampire knight!arlecchino who thought that you’d be happy to have the man dead either way and guilt trips you even more by reminding you who it is that keeps you safe and away from any harm; from all these men. can’t you see?

vampire knight!arlecchino absolutely who despises men.

vampire knight!arlecchino who thinks that in the worst case scenario you’ll grow to love her either way, that is if it should ever get to a point where she forcefully has to transform you in order to keep you alive.

vampire knight!arlecchino who could never truly hurt you, somebody else will have to pay for your wrongdoings, always. you’re too precious to suffer, after all…

vampire knight!arlecchino who’s secretly waiting for you to ask her to turn you, seriously this time…only then will she have ‘no issue’ to let you see your parents again, friends and other family members, they’ll all die before you either way…as for any suitors that you might still have…which you do because of the letters you receive from them but your knight won’t let you read them either way; they’ll be taken care of as well :))

vampire knight!arlecchino who loves to rest her head on, or between your thighs, be it you sitting with her arms wrapped around your waist, your own hands scratching through her hair and herself nuzzling her nose deeper into your lower stomach…it’s where your womb lies. it is still warm and fruitful, something that it won’t be anymore once you’ll have decided about your very restricted fate. at least the feeling of abundance won’t leave.

vampire knight!arlecchino who keeps telling you that she is yours so you don’t forget, because she means it. and you slowly yet surely start to reciprocate that same rhetoric too. the two of you were meant to be, of course you were <33

vampire knight!arlecchino who doesn’t even mind the fact that you quite literally won’t be the only source of physical warmth for her anymore, who’s convinced she’ll feel your heat even when your body will stop being animate.

vampire knight!arlecchino for whom you get small and harmless injuries more frequently to have her taste you some more; you’re still not completely ready to have her sink her fangs into you and this is the most you can do.

vampire knight!arlecchino who doesn’t want you to purposely hurt yourself for her to eat and does end up scolding and bandaging you up most of the times.

vampire knight!arlecchino who you find out is actually fond of music and is nonetheless a great dancer.

vampire knight!arlecchino who unbeknownst to you is preparing you to face your parents again, you’ve been invited to a ball that she will let you attend it with her company of course, as it is literally her job after all.

vampire knight!arlecchino who you thought had been so cruel as to have killed your parents, but who ended up simply ‘moving them away’ and not ‘out of the way’, they left for a longer trip to another nation, and now you’re being invited there at the request of another lord who has taken interest in you. perfect!

vampire knight!arlecchino who’s only reason to allow and accompany you on this trip is to take care of that fellow suitor. and of course, to show your parents that you’ve never been doing better.

vampire knight!arlecchino who helps you apply tint onto your lips and can’t help but ruin it later on the same day, always ending up with her having you either pinned up against a corner of a couloir or soliciting a makeout session right before you bathe.

vampire knight!arlecchino who leads your steps and teaches you how to dance like a proper lady, although she likes to see the informal version of you the most.

vampire knight!arlecchino who’s dumbfounded when you actually start to ask her, to understand and try to learn about the life as a vampire, it surely isn’t just out of pure curiosity and it has her hollow stomach fill with something sparkling unfamiliar, something forgotten yet absolutely wanted. she wants the feeling to stay and after all this wait and patience, it seems that you finally do want to remain with her as well.

vampire knight!arlecchino who tells you that the final bite might either be extremely painful and traumatic if done for the wrong reasons, or the most euphoric moment you’ll feel in this short lifetime, which is why even if you do want this, she wants to make sure you’re ready. although she remains impatient, she’s a professional at showing nothing of the sort.

vampire knight!arlecchino who can’t stop thinking about you actually becoming one with her for the rest of eternity, and who can’t stop touching herself to the picture of you sucking on her finger, tasting her, even when you thought nothing of it, gods…and when your eyes raised to meet with her own sharp yet adoring gaze…she should’ve claimed you right there.

vampire knight!arlecchino you tell after almost a year that you’re ready, you want to die while you’re still young, beautiful and desirable; you want her to turn you into an eternal being and you also want to die for the sake of love and prove your loyalty, just like she already has over and over again.

vampire knight!arlecchino who tells you that young or old, she’ll always love you the same because to her it doesn’t make any difference, alright? she’d be lying if she said that she isn't still somewhat relieved you’re considering to make clear choices at once and that she does not need to make things uncomfortable for you.

vampire knight!arlecchino who double- no, triple, quadruple checks whether you’re sure this is what you want and who’s confused yet still delighted when you allow yourself to descend upon her lap to claim your seat and straddle her, the back of your fingers trailing along her cheek until they find a home to cup them completely, noses touching and mostly your own warm breath fanning against her lips…something that won’t be a thing anymore once your transformation will be fulfilled.

vampire knight!arlecchino who soon understands that you want her to turn you during a pleasurable moment, you’re nervous and want to have some sort of control over the situation before it happens…and who is she to deny your wishes?

vampire knight!arlecchino who at first finds herself exchanging delicate and chaste kisses with you, which leave pleasurable sparks within their wake; and tonight you’re bold, seeking to deepen the connection as you press your body flush against her, arms wrapped behind her neck, feeling each others heaving and shaky breaths fan against each other, soon filling the room with a lively heart thudding against nothing in return; but the vampire’s gasps and equally fervent response of desperate grabbing and shameless licking helps you melt into her and try to relax.

vampire knight!arlecchino who one would have to actually crucify to keep her hands on one place from your entire being, fresh hands tracing and caressing the contrastingly plump and scorching flesh of your ass in return to your needy advances; and those same experienced hands slip underneath the fabric that kept her away from feeling you properly, only to grab and knead higher along the sides of your waist, having you gasp into her mouth for a mere second before she leans away to tend to your clavicle and let her tongue glide, traveling up to the crook of your neck and leaving a refreshingly sinful sensation.

vampire knight!arlecchino who experimentally licks, peppers kisses and lightly prepares you, specifically around your neck in order to leave her mark on you; reddish and slightly purple flowers who’s petals have left their imprint on you. her teeth but not yet her fangs.

vampire knight!arlecchino who soon finds herself barely trembling, you don’t outright notice it yet, but the slightly shaky and uneven when she feels your tongue press against her own with unrestrained eagerness, continuing to keep her intoxicated and drunk on the slowly yet very noticeable throbbing of your warmth against her and the whines they keep on eliciting.

vampire knight!arlecchino who pulls you in close by the shoulders while hoisting you up higher on her lap to have you feel the effect you have on her; her cock, fighting against the restraints of her undergarments and bulging up to your core just for you. it has you freezing up for a short instant, “i hope you can understand my little comrades eagerness, my dearest…i simply can’t help it” and it’s not as if you’re making this any easier for her,

vampire knight!arlecchino who cups your face in her cold hands, thumbs rubbing across your cheeks as she obverses your goddess like features when you tell her that you truly want this, you’re sure and you don’t want to have her waiting for you anymore.

vampire knight!arlecchino who after having you grind down onto her pathetically hardened dick, has a damp spot making itself known fairly quickly down your underwear and you’re getting impatient, both hurrying to rid yourself of your layers of clothing and the vampire almost instantly attacks your breasts and stomach to nibble, bite and quench herself onto a view she had missed; your supple and delectably sweet body…it is clear to her that this truly is what she wants to keep for herself and her eyes only… and that for the rest of her days.

vampire knight!arlecchino who wants to worship you, make you feel brand new, and that for the rest of eternity. to her, it had been her only job from the moment she saw you, truly…even if you still somewhat fail to realize that.

vampire knight!arlecchino who takes her time to kiss, adore and worship your mortal body once more, from your forehead to your ankles, before the both of you are left to fill the room with the slapping of skin, your own sweaty thighs colliding with her frosty ones as you get to lower yourself onto her dick repeatedly, at first slowly letting your walls adjust and expand to its size, now having her fat cock pumping in and out of you deeply and relentlessly, the undeniable scent of your arousal clouding the air; and you love it.

vampire knight!arlecchino who can’t get enough of your sweet pleas, she’s already yours and only now, when she has you working towards your peak do you beg her to make you hers, her claws already leaving their imprints on your innocent skin, heavy tip pushing against that one gummy spot that has you wailing her name in hurried desperation, not arlecchino…her true name; ‘peruere’.

vampire knight!arlecchino who feels that you’re getting close already, firm hands gripping onto her back for dear life and you barely notice your nails drawing tiny moon crescents, actual blood from the vampire’s skin, until you bring them back to caress her face and the woman is hypnotized, overwhelmed actually.

vampire knight!arlecchino who immediately welcomes a first middle finger you push into her mouth, her teeth lightly grazing it as she keeps pounding into your hungry hole, she still has you bouncing on her lap and your slick is dripping down onto the sheets by now, a sole creamy ring forming around the base of her cock as proof for your affection for her. the one you share for one another.

vampire knight!arlecchino who slightly mocks you, “everyone is going to hear you, dear” she chuckles into your ear, not like you care, you’re far too drunk on the electric feeling for you to start feeling ashamed now.

vampire knight!arlecchino who can sense that you’re close and who you barely notice rolling you over to have you on your back for her, she makes quick work to put a pillow underneath your lower back, folding over her shoulders all while keeping herself burried inside of you before drilling her beautiful cock back into your leaking mess again; and this time she’s dead honest, your broken pitched cries driving her to go harder, deeper to touch your cervix and kiss it.

vampire knight!arlecchino who presses her forehead against yours, whispering, vowing things you’re not sure to catch and waiting for you to cum, you’re on the brink of tears once again but she couldn’t care less, the snap of her hips and the force she uses is simply unshakable. “my love, i think about you all the time…about us…” and don’t worry, the very apparent bulge in your lower stomach hasn’t gone unnoticed by the undead one, and maybe she does want to put a baby in you…too risky, but you’d love that, wouldn’t you? her hand lingers right above where your womb rests and she presses down on it, making you squirm so shamelessly; you’re too close.

“i know you’re about to come…you can do that for me, can’t you? my sweet, oh so sweet lady…because i’m about to come for you my dearest, shit-“ she’s lost in rambles, sharing one last feverish kiss with you and as soon as vampire knight!arlecchino feels your core tense at the intensity of holding back your inevitable climax, and you can’t suppress a scream when you finally come simultaneously giving her the opportunity to sink her fangs into your neck with ease without having your full attention on them, your high hitting you like a blur, and making you her eternal mate at once, something that cannot be undone and you’re thankful for it.

vampire knight!arlecchino who holds onto your being tighter than ever before because you are dying, yes, but there is a rebirth taking place as well, she can’t allow herself to slip up.

vampire knight!arlecchino who actually gets to drink and drink such a large quantity of your blood for the first time ever and urges you to lick on the blood left on the crescent of your nails, which even in your drugged like state, you obey. it is her own metallic fluid, and in order for you to fully turn, you need some of hers in your system, it doesn’t really matter how it’s done.

vampire knight!arlecchino who cums hot white ropes onto your thighs and changed her mind about painting your insides white at the very last minute just because….it might be a lot all at once <33 and she still has your parents to meet once again so right now might just not be the most perfect timing.

vampire knight!arlecchino who cradles you in her arms after the deed has been fulfilled and has you feeling as if your brain had been fried yet still regenerated and emptied of all useless thoughts, useless feelings such as fear or doubt, you fully trust your one and only after all now, no?

vampire knight!arlecchino who fears that she was awfully wrong about doubting your own resolve and judgement, and who’s also ecstatic to see that her bite had one effect of ecstasy and not the latter she had mentioned before.

vampire knight!arlecchino who lays there with you for as long as you need, of course one does not turn with one snap of the fingers, and it is only when you notice that your own heart hasn’t been beating anymore for quite some time now and how your knights tight embrace doesn’t seem all that lifeless and freezing anymore that it hits you…. and now you’re also awfully hungry which is something that you have always wondered how you’d be handling that, and of course, arlecchino told you that she’d be ‘taking care of everything’. you’re officially tied to her now.

vampire knight!arlecchino who prefers to ease you into the vital vamp thingies little by little but do not fear when it comes to the food!…the staff is here for a reason after all. ”the maids are here to accommodate your every wish and need, my dearest one” always remember that. and luckily enough, some of them have been gossiping, judging, chattering and spreading their opinions very obnoxiously about you and your ‘whore like ways’ regarding your relationship with your knight, unbecoming of such a fair lady such as yourself, right? good thing that in the end, the maidens always taste sweeter, no matter how foul rotten their souls remain.

bonus: vampire knight!arlecchino who’s definitely going to miss you being on your period :(

a/n: yeah there’s definitely going to be a part 3 with a ball to this and I hope I did right by you dear anon idk why i went so far south tbh.

send me requests if you have any 🤎

[thegoatsongs]

The 2006 Dracula movie on BBC is one of the couple of adaptations in which Mina doesn't cheat/get seduced/hate her husband to be interested in someone else, but because Jonathan dies (early) by Dracula drinking him to death at the castle. She clicks with Jack, though not because of shared traits, common interests, or how they complement each other like in the book, it's more "well they're both single, guy saves girl..." The movie ends after Dracula gets killed by Van Helsing and Jack, with Mina and Jack being together after Mina gives Jonathan a (rather touching) eulogy about how he'll remain forever young. Then we see Dracula, Actually Alive, stalking them.

Like, come on, him again? Dracula drank Jonathan, since he died from it he should be undead now! Forever young, as she said. And back from the castle to find Mina. And the meeting between the three could have been interesting or very, very funny.

[playstation-dreamcast]

I love the way you write Wesker possessive. Its so perfect, it makes sense. If he's a God, why can't he have everything he wants? Why wouldn't everyone else be an object to him? And with his eyes set on someone so sweet, so precious.. He has every right to take what's his.

That being said, I'd love to see you write about, maybe post-4 pre-5 Wesker tracking down (gn) reader and capturing them, after having pined for them during his time in STARS or even Umbrella. I think you'd do it delightfully.

Of course, you have every right to decline! Tis simply a humble request :)

Thank you!! I'm glad you like my characterization for him, and I'm also glad you see my vision as to why I write him like that lol

That being said, I kinda combined these two requests and I really hope that's okay. Also- I'm sorry this has taken me so long to get to, I am Wesker's slowest writer lol

Now Loading...

Wesker's not at all shocked to see you in Spain, but he is incredibly pleased. He left you behind once, he won't do it again.

Part One Here

Tonight was the fourth worst night of your life. And yes, you kept a list. The third worst night was Thursday, October 1st, 1998. The day that all of your demons clawed out of their graves to haunt you once again. It was the day you met Leon, the pitiful little rookie he was at the time. Hungover and full of naivety, you were almost happy you had gone to the RPD to find survivors so you could help him through his first zombie apocalypse. 

It was almost funny when you told him it was your second. 

“You’re surprisingly calm for someone face to face with the living dead.” Fighting through hordes of undead and he still found it in him to judge you. You almost respected it.

Almost. “Eh, if you’ve seen one zombie you’ve seen them all.”

“There is no way you’ve seen an actual zombie before.”

You laughed, because he was right. That was fucking ridiculous. All of this was fucking ridiculous. “Actually, I have this ex-” you stopped as you saw the horrified look on his face, “I- uh, ya know what? Story for another day. I’ll tell you if we survive.”

The second worst night of your life was Wednesday, September 23, 1998. That was the night you realized that not only was God very much dead, but that you had been in bed with the man that killed said god. That was the night you realized that if hell truly existed, you were already in it. You were pretty sure that was the night you died. You could still hear his words in your head, haunting you like the phantoms in a graveyard, or a killer returning to the scene of the crime. 

“I think you’re a little confused Dear. I’ve always been with Umbrella. And S.T.A.R.S we’re always Umbrella’s- no, rather, my little piggies.”

No matter how hard you scrubbed or how hot the water was, you never could seem to wash his scent off your skin.

The absolute worst day of your life, bar none- and it wasn’t even close- was the day that you had the displeasure of meeting Albert Wesker for the first time. They had warned you the devil would be handsome, but you hadn’t imagined he’d capture your heart in quite the way he did. Your cold captain that only seemed to thaw for you. At the time, he gave you butterflies in your stomach. And he still did, only now the butterflies had razor blades for wings and they spit acid. So. That was fun. 

“Condor One, do you read me?” You asked into your radio, hoping against hope that the radio signal would be on your side for once.  

“Canary One, I read you. What is your current location?” Leon’s voice crackled over the radio to your genuine amazement.

“Good question Condor,” You grumbled as you tried to traverse the basement of the castle. A trap door of all things had separated you, and you really wished you could say it was shocking, but in this Scooby-Doo ass castle nothing was going to shock you- besides the radio working. “Have you secured Baby Eagle?”

“Baby Eagle is secure.” You smiled as you heard Ashley call out to you, demanding you don’t die. She was a sweet kid. “We’re making our way to the extraction point now.”

You nodded as if he could see you. “Copy that Condor, I’ll meet you guys there.”

“Are…you sure Canary? We can change course to find you.”

You rolled your eyes. Leon’s whole protective act was cute- but you were a grown ass adult. “Yes Condor, I’ll be fine.”

“With all due respect Canary,” You hated that phrase when it was used against you, “This place isn’t the easiest to navigate with help, let alone- alone.”

“I don’t appreciate that kind of negativity Condor. I’ll meet you at the extraction, Canary One out.” You ended the transmission before he could bother to continue to argue. You took stock of your situation. You were in some sort of…dungeon? Maybe? Who knows. You probably should have given more of a shit, but feeling anything other than apathy was…hard, these days.

Your codec beeped, making the same sound it did when Hunnigan dropped you a file. This was notable, because no fucking way Hunnigan was sending you anything when Salazar (or, more accurately probably one of his goons) had taken over the signal. You looked down, and sure enough- you had a file labeled “blueprint” waiting for you to open it.

Only it wasn’t sent by Hunnigan, or anyone from base. The sender line was just blank. Which, you didn’t even know was possible. Logically, you knew you probably shouldn’t open this file. In fact, it very well might cost you your job to open this file. It could be a virus, or worse. And there were incredibly confidential government secrets on there- including your entire mission.

So naturally you opened it. And sure as Sunday was to come, there was a blueprint of the entire castle in front of you now. It even had a helpful little “You Are Here! 🌟” star to help you orient yourself, a detail you appreciated but also really should have unsettled you more than it did. This dungeon was a labyrinth, but you identified a path that should have at least get you to the first floor.

It wasn’t easy, and you had to figure out more than a few tight spaces, not to mention the disgusting creatures that got in your way, but before you knew it you were stepping back into that large, foggy room that greeted you and Leon when you first encountered this wretched place. You waved to the Merchant before going to fix the knife you broke in a ganados skull.

“Oy, you got the smell of battle on you, Mate”  He said, waving his hand over his- notably cloth covered- face.

You rolled your eyes. “Gee, I wonder why.”

He shrugged, “We may never know. Now, what’ll it be, Stranger?”

You produced the bits of metal and handle you once called a knife onto his table. “I uh, need a repair on my knife. And a tune up on old red would be nice.” You said, putting your handgun on the table next to it. He looked down at the broken knife, then at you, then the knife, then you again, then the knife again. “You really don’t listen to us when we say “Knife needs care, could be the difference between life and death” do you, Stranger?”

You shrugged. “I drift in and out. Can you fix it?”

He looked it over, then nodded. “Aye, We can, but it’ll cost you extra.”

You assumed. “That’s fine.” You realized something. Leon wasn’t here.

“Hey- who's we?” You asked the question abruptly, but it had been heavy on your mind. Leon said it would be rude to ask. Leon wasn’t here.

You felt the Merchant raise an eyebrow as you. “What are you on about Mate?”

“You say “we” a lot. And Us, actually. Like “we can fix it” or “the years haven’t been kind to us” Is it like, the royal we, orr??”

The merchant gave a raspy laugh. “It’s me and the plaga I gots.”

You felt your eyes bug out of your head as you leaned further on the table. “Really?”

“Sure,” He shrugged, taking your weapons, “If it tickles your fancy. Believe what you like.” He said before turning around to start the repairs.

You rolled your eyes at the half answer, but honestly you had gotten farther than you expected, so you weren’t that mad at it. You waited for your weapons, bouncing your leg nervously. Something else was heavy on your mind. Something you didn’t realize was even a thought at first that now demanded your attention. “Hey, question-”

“You ask a lot of questions, Stranger.”

“It was my job at one point. Anyway, did you somehow send me the blueprints to the castle? On my codec?” You asked in almost a hushed tone, as if even acknowledging the file would have your tongue cut from your mouth.

The Merchant just shook his head. “Me? No, we don’t just give blueprints away for free around here, Stranger, this ain’t a charity.”

You bowed your head a bit before nodding. Yeah, that was the answer you should have expected.

“Maybe it was that blond fella that’s following ya around. Lost puppy, that one.” He said with a snort.

You just shook your head. “What, Leon? No, I don’t think he has the access to do that, let alone the blueprint itself.”

He shook his head back. “No, not him. The other one. The, rather, shady looking bloke.” He said with a chuckle, as if laughing at a joke only he got.

You felt your face scrunch with confusion. “What? What other blonde guy? There is no other blond guy. There’s Ashley, but I hardly doubt anyone’s mistaking her for a dude.”

“Oh, so ya don’t know then?” He shrugged, “Well- all in due time.” Before you could press him further, he was coming back to present you with your upgraded weapons. “Here ya go Stranger!” You were quiet for a beat. He continued. “Dazzled, are you? Our craftsmanship demands no less.” 

“Who’s the blond?” You asked, this time much firmer. 

He didn’t back down. “Come back anytime.” The conversation was over. You could press, but something deep inside you told you it was a very bad idea to get on the Merchant’s bad side. Something beyond just him being a valuable ally. 

“Thanks for the help,” you sighed before continuing your mission. The last place you remembered seeing Leon was that bug infested ballroom, so you figured that should be your first destination. Not because you expected to find Leon there, in fact you very much hoped he kept moving and you wouldn’t find him there. No, it was because it was a room you at least knew how to get to, and knew that all the traps were either disarmed or already triggered. It was pretty low effort.

You got the feeling you were being watched as you walked. That wasn’t unexpected considering how deep you were in enemy territory. You had felt like you were being watched since you first set foot in that god forsaken cabin. But it felt more intense now. The paranoia crawled up your spine like a spider, slowly making itself more and more apparent. You felt like an animal in a zoo.

Or like a fish in a barrel. You were relieved when you opened the heavy ballroom door and saw blond hair. You didn’t want to find Leon here originally, but you were relieved to not be alone anymore.

That relief was short-lived. “Well, hello Dearheart. I didn’t expect to see you here.” Wesker said as he turned around, speaking to you before he even saw you, a dark and victorious smirk on his face. Your throat filled with cotton, and suddenly you felt like a fool for not immediately knowing who the Merchant was referring to.

His smirk only grew. He took a step toward you, you took a step back. “Whatever could be wrong, my dear? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I’m pretty sure I did.” you muttered, just barely above a whisper. Chris had warned you about this. One of the first things he did when he returned from Antarctica with Claire was sit you down and tell you. Like it was an intervention, with Jill there and everything. He said he was pretty sure Wesker had been keeping tabs on all the remaining S.T.A.R.S members and that you had to remain vigilant.

You didn’t want to doubt Chris, but him telling you that Wesker had somehow managed to survive being impaled by that…thing was hard to believe. Especially when you felt him all but die in your arms. Maybe that’s why you were so shocked now. You could no longer live in denial.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “You’re supposed to be dead.” You finally said.

Wesker simply shrugged, as if he wasn’t- once again- defying the very laws of the universe by just standing there. “What can I say? Reports of my death were, greatly exaggerated.”

You felt your arm move before your brain could stop it. You weren’t even in your body anymore. You watched in third person as you shot at your former lover. And felt the air get sucked from your lungs as you watched him dodge the fucking bullet. You really needed to stop doubting Chris.

Wesker rushed you before you could even think to think, taking your wrist in a grip so tight it definitely bruised. “Now now Dear, where’s all this coming from?” He asked, unloading your gun and making sure to clear the chamber, all while it was still in your hand. “I thought you’d be happy to see me. You were so distraught over my death after all.”

You wrenched your arm back and pushed him away- and it wasn’t lost on you that he let you do that. “You should be fucking dead!” You hissed, venom dripping from your words. “For the love of my Fucking. Sanity. You should be dead! After everything you’ve done, the countless lives you’ve ruined- including my own- you couldn’t even have the fucking decency to stay in your Goddamn grave?!” You yelled, six years of rage ripping out of you like a tidal wave.

Wesker sat there and let you screech, utterly unaffected. “I don’t have a grave, actually. None of you ever buried me, not even symbolically.” He would get fucking pedantic on you right now. “You’re a freak of nature!” You snapped, “No better than any of those other monsters Umbrella created!”

He actually frowned at that. You seemed to have finally struck a raw nerve. “And here I was thinking we could have a civilized conversation. It’s quite disappointing, actually, I was hoping you’d be reasonable.”

“Go to hell!”

“Or that you’d at least not resort to throwing a tantrum.” He scoffed. 

You couldn’t believe this man. “Albert, I mourned you.” You said, your voice lower now, tears trembling behind it, “I watched you die, I cried every night and then I hated myself for crying because you didn’t deserve it! You fucking ruined me Albert! You literally invented new ways of betraying people and I was up sobbing because I missed you. Do you even know how long it fucking took me to finally redirect that anger from myself to you- the man it should have targeted from the beginning?! And you want me to be reasonable?! What does that even mean?!” You broke, tears finally slipping down your cheeks and a heavy breath cutting off your words. Right. This is why you stopped feeling things.

You didn’t have it in you to fight back when Wesker gently cupped your face, using his gloved thumb to wipe a tear away. “Feel better now? Got it all out of your system?”

You responded with a deep, jagged breath. 

And he took that as confirmation. “Good. Look Dear, it was nothing personal- truly. I did tell you to stay home.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” He was firm with that one, “You’re upset because you feel abandoned and betrayed and you’re treating the entire incident as a personal attack instead of as the calculated experiment and business decision that it was. I truly would have rather you stayed home, the intent was never to hurt you specifically.”

You suspected that was the closest you were ever going to get to an apology out of this man. “How could you do this to us?” You asked in a raspy tone. You told yourself you were referring to the S.T.A.R.S team. And you knew you were lying.

“I was simply doing what had to be done.” He said, caressing your cheek with the back of his knuckles. There was a silence so thick you could cut it with a spoon. You knew you should have been trying harder to kill him, to fight back, to do…literally anything. But, you couldn’t bring yourself to do much more than stand there, wishing everything was different.

Wesker was the first to move, reaching into his breast pocket.

You pulled back. What the fuck are you doing?!

He gave you an unimpressed look. What kind of weapon do you honestly think I'm fitting in here? He pulled out the absolute last thing you could have expected. He couldn’t fit a weapon in his pocket, but he might as well have with that. Actually, it might have been worse than a weapon. 

“I’ve been meaning to return this to you for awhile now,” He said, holding up a ruby pendant hanging from a white gold chain. Your grandmother's necklace. “Thank you for lending it to me. It’s quite the good luck charm, it worked very well.”

You shook your head. “Why would you keep that?”

He smiled, but it wasn’t kind. “I knew I was going to return it to you, someday.” 

He closed the gap between the two of you, clasping the chain around your neck, the metaphorical noose around your throat. “There we go. It always did look better on you, Dear.”

You shook your head, unable to process everything that was happening. “I…I need to go find Leon-”

“Oh? Missing your boyfriend?” There was a tight edge to his voice that genuinely caught you off guard.

You looked at him befuddled. “Leon’s not my boyfriend?” You scoffed.

His eyebrow twitched. “Oh, is that so? You could have had me fooled.”

You shook your head, the absurdity of all of this hitting you like a steel chair. You considered pinching yourself to see if you were secretly asleep. “Albert, are you jealous right now?”

He scoffed. “Not at all. I hope you had fun with the government’s favorite toy.”

“Holy shit, you’re jealous.” You almost laughed. “That’s fucking ridiculous- let me remind you, you inadvertently got an entire city wiped off the map, Albert. You have no right to be jealous.”

“I fail to see how those two things are related.”

You brought your arms up just to drop them in exasperation. “Whatever claim you had to me, whatever attachment, whatever right you might have had to be jealous burned down with the Spencer mansion and only exists in the ashes of Racoon City. That’s how they’re related.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “I think you and I both know that’s not true. You’ve never stopped being mine, Doctor.”

You were truly taken aback. “I stopped being yours when that thing killed you.”

He shook his head. “No, you didn’t. If you had, you wouldn’t have spent so many nights lying awake and “missing me” as you so eloquently put it.”

Rage was bubbling inside you again. “You know, for as smart as you are you really don’t have a singular clue how to be a decent human, do you?”

“You’re not the first person to say that.” He said, checking his own codec, “That’s why I was able to rise above humanity.”

You shook your head. There was no getting through to him. “I’m leaving.”

“No, you’re not.” He said, looking up as he put the device in his back pocket, “I’m afraid I can’t let that happen.”

You took a step back. “And why the hell can’t you?!”

“Because Darling,” He said, using your shocked state to take you by the wrist, “Things are starting to get messy at the clocktower, and I intend to get you somewhere safe before things escalate further. Don’t worry, We know exactly how to handle your little plaga.”

You suddenly couldn’t breathe. Surely you weren’t about to be kidnapped by your ex who returned from the dead, surely your life couldn’t get that absurd. “Why?” Was all you could bring yourself to ask.

“Because I don’t make the same mistake twice,” Albert said, quickly grabbing you by the waist before you could think to run. “I’m not leaving you behind this time.” 

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Yandere! Revenant harem w/ "queen" darling

A/N: ya'll won't leave me alone about this damn harem lol. ! jkjk I love ya'll but idek what to really add onto the harem stuff like please...I'm dying here. please eat this while I finish my requests.

requests: always open for my baby girls

Warnings: Ya'll should be famillair with the type of time I'm on

masterlist

hypothetically...let's say the original harem failed at protecting you and the revenants won and took you captive *tbh that's the only reason they came*

The revenant harem is all about teamwork, that's why they won. None of them mind sharing you and serving you is their sole purpose of living..well being undead?

You were their prize before they died and now in their afterlife, you are the only thing they can think about. They must protect their living darling from suffering their same fate. You are their queen now, they'll stop at nothing to prove that to you. Before they were playing fair, letting you choose who you wanted but they are done waiting. They are all yours to love.

Once captured by the harem, you will no longer have any life outside of them. You are not going anywhere. They hate the thought of you interacting with the outside world. Seriously, you are on lockdown. They even hate the idea of you visiting your family. They are your family.

were you a champion? Oh, well you're no longer allowed to ever fight or train again. They forbid you because they were all skilled and dedicated their lives to it but now look at them..you cannot get hurt.

Actually anything remotely dangerous is a no go.

There's never a second when you're alone, they're enamored by you. They've most likely built an entire castle for you, fit with a throne only you may be allowed to sit on. bouquets of flowers and jewels gifted at your feet. They bow in your presence and cannot wait to throw themselves at any opportunity to do something for you.

Anything..please anything you want. They'll gladly go to war for you and take over the entirety of the outworld for your ruling. Just say the words and they'd do it. You deserve to be Kahn with your ever so graciousness.

say jump and they'll say how high. If you never felt like walking again your feet won't ever have to touch that filthy ground ever again.

Don't let this fool you though, they are absolutely insane. They are still dangerous yanderes who will collectively punish you for any signs of disobedience. Don't run away, don't fight back or reject them..

Actually...do fight back. come on..they dare you. They love it when their queen plays rough. Who wouldn't want to be punched by you? They'll taunt and mock you while your weak self tries to fight them ...you're hilarious. If you are super powerful and is actually causing trouble, you will be punished by the more intense characters. Do you think you're getting past Raiden?

"A shame I had to use such intense force to subdue you. Although you are very dear to us, do not think for a second are exempt from proper discipline. Your fate will be shortly decided."

punishments range from you having some luxuries revoked to being dropped off in the living forest and left there to fend for yourself for a couple of hours.

You got the absolute worst version of every-single character...like a harem that consists of REVENANT Dark Raiden and Noob Saibot is a harem you def don't wanna mess around and find out with.

I know in the previous harem it seemed like every girl's dream..yeah no. Not this one.

Oh and they also like to control what you wear. Elaborate regal clothing is their favorite, especially with a huge headpiece. Your schedule is also controlled throughout the day. They have everything perfectly balanced to fairly share you and to take shifts protecting your castle. Occasionally though, some will get into fights with each other when one is a bit more needy and tries to hog up your time. The most sought-after time though is when you're either getting ready in the morning or settling down in the evening. To be the one to brush your hair or to help you out of your ridiculous garments is an honor.

I like to imagine that when you sleep, they all gather around your bed, admiring your beauty. none of them are allowed to sleep on your bed, They'll just huddle on the floor around it. reminds me of the quote "sleeping on your floor is better than sleeping in my bed." They all have their own rooms but rather be near you.

they're so far gone, you have to remind them every time you need to use the restroom that no. they cannot follow you in.

"Johnny, no. I need some privacy please."

*on his knees* "But my sweetheart...I just want to offer you some assistance."

"johnny- i have to pee..."

This way of life is completely normal...that's what they keep telling you at least..That their actions are innocent. Oh they just can't bear a second without you, bullcrap. So manipulative. They are still the same grimy men as before lol

Especially Kano and Erron..somehow death just made them have less of a filter.

Do you think Lui Kang, Kung Lao, Hanzo, and Kuai forced the monks and both clans into being your personal army? They're so damn corrupt.

They'll instantly kill anyone who dares to even look at you. It's only their special privilege. Their head will be gifted to you on a silver platter to show their undying devotion. Are you crying? did you not like their gift? They're sorry. Would you have preferred something more?

Speaking of you being upset, if someone in the harem causes you distress they'll be exiled after punishment...that is if they survived it.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Considering that now Emperor!König can fuck darling whenever he wants, what would happen when little darling starts with pregnancy symptoms? Would he feel proud that be got her finally pregnant or he would have a different reaction?

The first healer who got the news to the emperor got promoted on the spot. The second and the third one got enough money to never heal again - yet, they were immediately advised as the commune of professionals working to ensure that the Regent Empress won't follow the exensixe footsteps of the Dead Royal Mothers, dying in childbirth. Knowing the way Konig swung with Death, no one would be surprised for the Empress to have returned somehow, in some way later - still, no one wanted to be the one to bring possible tragic news. But you were alive, and well - as well as someone who is pregnant from the notorious dictator could have been. The baby is draining all of your powers, the hack of healers has created a collegium trying to suggest the gender of the child by rotating between taking urine and blood samples, and Konig couldn't be happier. Son would be the son of the country, and the daughter could repeat the fate of her mother, locked up in the highest tower so that no one would ever try to capture and force her into marriage. You didn't think that it's possible to be even more pampered - but Konig is forbidding you from ever stepping outside of the castle, even the garden times are strictly limited to the exact minute healers have suggested. Your poison testers are being fired left and right, every food product you had is mostly being coked under the supreme supervision of the emperor himself - or his undead generals, whose lack of taste almost makes you gag. You are forbidden from wearing fashionable strict dresses with corsets and lacings - you are barely wearing anything at all, locked in your bedroom with your husband at your hip. He is so worried about every cramp, every headache or dull pain in your back, you can be the only person in history to ever receive feet massages from the conqueror himself - and he finally stopped dragging you to his meetings, instead opting for staying indoors with you. Konig's anxiety is at all rage now, he is worried sick about you - and, well, as overbearing as he is, you enjoy him actually worrying about you and stopping with his annoying antics and teasing.

[sanyu-thewitch05]

Yandere Undead! Knight! x Princess! Reader Headcanons

Ko-fi link: ☕️

It was horrible enough to always be in your room in your family’s castle as a normal princess.

It was even worse when you were a cursed princess and had to be drugged so your curse didn’t spread.

In reality the curse wasn’t really a curse. Just a consequence of genetics.

Simply put, it was your parent’s fault. You see your mother had never told your father that her parents were some of the most evil sorcerers in the land.

It was easy for your mother to cover up the horns and bat like wings with her magic. She thought your father’s human genetics and royal divine blessings from the castle’s magicians would rid any child of hers of her shameful lineage.

But unfortunately, life likes to play the games, and the truth always come out one way or another.

So imagine your father’s surprise when his divinely blessed baby girl came out with black and purple hair, dark purple eyes with vertical slit pupils and black nails. Looking exactly like her maternal grandmother.

It was then your mother was forced to tell her beloved husband the truth.

Your parents still loved you, but you were to be kept inside the castle at all times.

Very few were trusted to be around you. You never had a true childhood celebrating festivals like the other nobles and village children.

Then, puberty hit and your magic started to develop. It started off small like levitation, purple auras, and energy balls. Then it increased to your presence killing flowers and plant life, and a more bat-like shadow.

Finally, the royal sorcerers developed pills for you to take to reverse your progress. It came at the price of your emotions and very sanity.

And so one day, when you were 13, you skipped taking a couple of them and ran away from your personal knight, and into the village . It didn’t last long, but it felt good to touch grass and have wind brushing your skin.

This cycle of running away from the different personal knights your parents got you continued until you were 20. That’s when the royal sorcerers divulged in a dark magic, and revived your kingdom’s greatest knight who had tragically died as a young man defending your kingdom to be your personal knight.

Sure, he’s been dead for over 100 years and missing an arm, but that can easily be fixed with a regeneration spell.

That night, Benedict Solomon, arose from the grave with orders to protect you.

Still in the armor he was buried in, he barged into your room and got on one knee.

“Here..to serve…you…”

You were surprised your family would go so far as to make an undead knight for you, but at least he looked tolerable.

The long dirty finger nails and extremely cracked lips were unnerving, but at least his body and skin seemed to be doing ok.

Besides, you’d run away from him again just like you did all the others so it doesn’t matter what he looks like.

That night, you sneak away into the night and head towards the village.

You cross the bridge, and you feel a strong hand on your shoulder.

“No…bad! Stay..in castle.”

You push his hands off you and continue onward.

Your back hits the ground as Benedict pins your body.

“I said no!”

His feral golden eyes dilate, focusing on you like prey.

“Alright! Alright! I’ll go back to my room!” You exclaim, pushing him off you.

His hand is tight around your wrist as you walk back to the castle. You look back at the village and see the dancing people in the tavern.

Benedict throws you into your room, locking the door behind him. He opens the drawer and pulls out all the pills you threw away.

He puts four in his hand and shoves them down your throat.

You scream as the pills go down your throat, almost choking you. You cough and Benedict strokes your face.

“Good..girl..beautiful.”

For the rest of the night, you face the window because Benedict has been staring at you like a statue making sure you don’t make a run for the door.

You hear the floors creak, and Benedict closes the window and curtains. He then sits on the bed, and starts spooning you. His arms tight like a corpse’s grip.

His cracked lips kiss your cheek.

You try to move away, but he wraps his legs around yours.

“No escape.”

For once, you realize that you can’t get rid of him like the others.

And so you spend the night with his split and cracked lips on your skin. Wary of his mouth opening up and sinking his teeth into your neck.

[sj-ficrecs]

fic rec 16!

SO! i haven’t been reading fic in a long time bc i’ve been reading books BUT, discovered this fic rec in my drafts from 2022 lol oops!

This is purely a fic rec blog, always reblogging fics I enjoy. usually Bucky x reader, sometimes Steve x reader, Chris Beck x reader, etc. So check out more I’ve reblogged on this page. :)

PREVIOUS FIC RECS HERE! // Q & A

Bucky x reader:

A Correspondence of Obligations by @pellucid-constellations prince!Bucky x princess!reader

“ Obedience, duty, pristine smiles—raised as the princess of an oppressive kingdom, you knew nothing else. Your father signed your life away at the ripe age of five, black ink bleeding into a contract between nations, fate cemented with the flick of a quill. So when the time came to fulfill the promises you were too young to make, you expected much of the same in the land of Brookshire. But Prince James had other plans, as did the enemies looming outside the castle walls.”

Sky Full of Song by @wkemeup pirate!Bucky x pirate/siren!reader

“Despite the bitter resentment of the crew, you found a home on Captain Barnes’ ship; on the ocean where you belonged, at the side of a captain you swore loyalty and heart to. But when course is plotted for a legendary island, the secret that has kept you alive for years is threatened to be revealed.”

Starting Gate by @navybrat817 motocross!Bucky x reader

“You attract the attention of your coworker's friend who just happens to be a handsome racer who plays for keeps.”

Oath by @softlybarnes (part of the Sugar series but can be reader alone) 40s Bucky x reader

“Bucky finally proposes to Y/N.”

Awake My Soul by @foreverindreamlandd​ Bucky x reader (Zombie apocalypse au)

“It’s been five years since zombies first started walking the Earth, destroying anything and everything in their wake. Now, in this apocalyptic world, fighting for survival comes as naturally as breathing. The one thing you’ve learned ever since they arrived, though, is that the living can be so much more dangerous than the undead. When you stumble across two young, scared boys lost in the woods and being chased by walkers, you go against your better judgment and help them to safety. Little did you know that helping them would lead you to Bucky - an angry, grumpy, distrusting member of the camp Shield. Bucky has zero interest in having you enter his life. He’s been hurt before and lost too many people to risk experiencing that kind of pain again, and he knows that there are secrets you aren’t telling the group. Yet, when push comes to shove, and you’re put at risk, he’ll stop at nothing to keep you safe.”

No Such Thing by @sanguineterrain college athlete!Bucky x reader

“You’ve been assigned to write a column for your school paper on the team’s spectacular running back. You don’t care very much for your university’s football team; you just can’t understand the hype, okay? Turns out your distaste for football bigheads was exactly on point: James Barnes is insufferable.”

Appointments by @buckycuddlebuddy Bucky x reader

“bucky barnes, finally being able to live freely in 21st century, accidentally gets a fuck buddy and starts to rediscover himself. the only weird thing about this situation is that you have to make an appointment to get railed by him.”

Recipe for Disaster by @seventven dad’s best friend!Bucky x reader

“your dad’s best friend bucky knows you have a crush on him. your parents invite him to join your family for the annual winter vacation”

In the Embers by @foreverindreamlandd Firefighter!Bucky x Fem!Plus Size!Adopted Rogers!Reader

“Bucky Barnes. The boy next door. Your brother’s best friend. The guy you’ve been in love with for as long as you can remember. Unrequited, that is, seeing that he only thinks of you as a sister (at least, that’s what you always thought). It’s been about a decade since you’ve returned home and reunited with the boy - now man - with stunning blue eyes and a smile that still puts a million butterflies in your stomach. You never expected to come back, thinking that you’d spend the rest of your life as a famous artist in Los Angeles with your boyfriend/manager. But things change, life gets messy, and now you’re back in your childhood bedroom living with your mom and working at the townie bar to make ends meet while you try to figure out what the hell to do next. The one thing that hasn’t changed? Bucky Barnes is still the boy next door, and there’s no running from him this time.”

Love in Four Acts by @chouettedubois neighbor MCU Bucky x nurse!reader

“You’re a nurse living in Brooklyn. You’ve got a crush on your next door neighbour who doesn’t seem to know you exist. One day his cat finds its way into your apartment, forcing you both to finally meet. That’s when you learn that he’s James Buchanan Barnes, ex-Winter Soldier. Well, there goes your chances. Or maybe getting close to a superhero isn’t as far-fetched as it sounds.”

Plaything part one + two by @captain-buckyyy virgin!Bucky x reader

“bucky’s innocence is just too much for you to resist”

calamitous love series by @classylo princess!reader x commoner!bucky

“Reader is a modern princess under immense pressure to marry before she takes the crown, she choose her Prince Charming four years ago… but he didn’t choose her back. He left her with a broken heart and her kingdom to rule alone. Four years later, reader is in an arranged engagement with a man who she can see herself loving… one day… everything seems to be falling into place until her original prince shows up at her engagement party determined to win her back before her wedding day.”

Not Even a Little by @intrepidacious roommate!Bucky x reader, modern au

“The problem of living with Bucky is that he makes it impossible not to fall in love with him. Even though you could list several hundred reasons why it’s a bad idea. And you have.”

Followed You by @cwbucky Bucky x reader

“You meet this guy named Bucky through Instagram. Even though neither of you knows what the other person looks like, you two immediately connect. Things get complicated when you start your new job at Stark Industries and you catch a glimpse of the handsome Sergeant Barnes.”

Matched by @nony-bear Alpha!Bucky x omega!reader

“Bucky Barnes always dreamed of settling down with a mate but after decades of trauma leaving him a grumpy old man with a robotic arm he’s convinced no one could love an alpha like him. Begrudgingly he follows his therapist advice and enrolls in the Swan Program a mate matching program offered but the new aged bio-tech company Mate-Tech”

Body Talk by @boxofbonesfic trainer!Bucky x plus size!reader

“You’re determined to come out of this breakup a better you, but Bucky likes the you you are.”

King in Your Story by @sinner-as-saint viking!Bucky x princess!reader

“Everyone in your father’s Kingdom knows that the Vikings often raid the castle’s warehouses. They take anything they want. Food, gold, weapons. Although they never seem to hurt your subjects. But you had had enough. Given your training, and your need to defend your Kingdom, your father agrees to let you trap the Vikings and bring them in for negotiation because this habit of theirs needs to be stopped. You hated the Vikings, and you thought you always would. Until the moment you met a pair of blue eyes which made your world stand still. Bucky was the Chief of his people; muscular, rough and tumble, and arrogant. Not to mention a shameless flirt, and he got on your nerves the most. But you knew it from the very day you laid eyes on his very handsome face that no matter how hard you tried, some part of you couldn’t fully hate him, nor resist him - even if he was the rival.”

Oh Baby, Oh Baby by @tooearlyforthis Bucky x reader

“As a new recruit, y/n isn’t allowed to go on all the missions yet. To make matters worse, they left behind another, someone that she had despised ever since she first stepped foot in the compound - James Buchanan Barnes.”

Before You by @m4tthewmurd0ck prince!Bucky x baker!reader

reader is a baker who happens to work at a shop the royals enjoy getting baked goods from :)

Steve Rogers x reader:

Rising Tide by @pellucid-constellations surfer!Steve x reader

“A relationship built up from the ocean floor, you and Steve had lifetime worth of memories—most best friends did. But things were beginning to change, unspoken feelings creating a rift that cast a shadow over the bond you called home. Unfortunately for you, rip currents are often hardest to spot in the dark”

[dgct2]

When a life altering moment occurs, people remember.

Castle 4x22 Undead Again

[anae-art]

Day 19 - Monster hunter For this one, I wanted to redraw one of the scenes from our Curse of Strahd adventure, when we were just before the fight with Strahd One of my favorite scenes I must point out Well it will be a long story below (Prop list is from @crowholtz ) (Spoilers for Curse of Strahd below)

Just before the planned attack on the castle, we gathered everyone who wanted to help us to devise a plan. A little late arrived van Richten telling us that Esmeralda would arrive later and that we should start without her.

We spent an hour-long session planning the steps and when we had everything figured out, van Richten asked one of the characters to talk. After a while our friend came back to us, saying that the monster hunter would return later and indeed, after a while he practically ran into the inn with Esmeralda saying:

-Sorry, we couldn't come earlier, we were attacked by vampire spawns on the way. What is the plan?

And our reaction after a moment of consternation looked more or less like this:

-Oh, but you were here a moment ag…. OH NO

Yes, so as you can probably guess this previous van Richten was Strahd. He changed his appearance and insured the outing of my detection of the undead. And when he went outside with our friend charmed him and took the item that was supposed to help us in the fight.

Funnily enough, while we were talking, my character Gabrielle pulled out a sun sword, which dealt damage to him and our GM had to see if he would lose concentration and look like Strahd again. Unfortunately, he didn't lose it (although it could have been fun)

So we ended up with Strahd knowing our plan from us, taking items from us and our morale dropping to zero just before fighting him. A brilliant move. I still think it was one of the better scenes in the entire campaign

Although I must admit that our GM gave us some hints -Before Strahd entered the inn and he asked if he could enter -He stood up and moved away from me when I pulled out a sun sword -On top of that, van Richten talking about how much garlic helps fight vampires was suspicious…. But we were too excited to fight Strahd to notice it, ok...?

[see-arcane]

Thinking about the Karnstein family connection thing.

Laura's mother is descended directly from the Karnstein bloodline.

Carmilla is/was Countess Mircalla Karnstein.

While the gothic (and some classic vampire lore!) elements can easily point to an incestuous implication for why Millie is so fixated on Laura--what with some vampire legends focusing on undead that pursue family members first--I think the more straightforward hint is that Mircalla married into the Karnstein lineage and died/got vampire'd young, before she could produce any heirs.

While we'll learn later that ye olde Millie had multiple lovers, including a certain young man who will become important later in her revealed history, I think it's worth noting that Mircalla, prolific in romances as she was, did marry, and did choose a Karnstein to do so with. Which suggests one of two options to me:

A) Count Karnstein had her heart (Surprise! She's Bi!) or

B) It was a marriage of convenience and her heart belonged to some unknown lady Karnstein

Either way, this is the biggest sign to me that Carmilla not only has a type, she has a specific craving for Karnsteins. And, in case it needs yet more emphasis, I am shouting from the top of the castle roof that CARMILLA AND LAURA DESERVE THE REINCARNATED LOVER SUBPLOT MORE THAN ANY OTHER VAMPIRE LOVE STORY!

Because think about it! Why else would Carmilla/Mircalla zero in on Laura as a literal child before ever slinking up to her in late adolescence? What was the point unless she got a spiritual ping from the girl that was too familiar to ignore?

“Darling, darling,” she murmured, “I live in you; and you would die for me, I love you so.” I started from her. She was gazing on me with eyes from which all fire, all meaning had flown, and a face colorless and apathetic. “Is there a chill in the air, dear?” she said drowsily. “I almost shiver; have I been dreaming?”

What if this is Carmilla 'dreaming?' Thinking back to the original lover, either the Count Karnstein or some secret partner who ended themselves once upon a time in grief. Before the risen Mircalla could have turned and kept them. Would it not make so much sense that she would see Laura, sense the returned soul in her, and throw herself at her as soon as she could? Just to be sure at first--

Hence the childhood visitation, hello, hello again..!

--and then the instant she was of age--

Oh dear, all alone in these woods? No Bertha to be your only young companion out here? Not to worry, darling, I am here for you...

--and last, if the implication at the novella's end is more than Laura's imagination, seizing upon her as a grown woman.

Found you again, darling. No more dawdling. I shall not wait for another string of lifetimes to have you.

just

aauaougghh

Let Mircalla x Mystery Karnstein slowburn Reincarnated Lovers fic happen, please, I need it, my crops are dying p l e a s e

[worst-igor]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

༒︎ ℝ𝕖𝕤𝕔𝕦𝕖��!𝕃𝕖𝕠𝕟 𝕂𝕖𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕕𝕪 𝕩 𝔸𝕓𝕕𝕦𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕊𝕔𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕤𝕥!ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

⛧°。 ⋆༺𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶 𝒲𝒾𝒸𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝒢𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝒯𝑜 𝒫𝓁𝒶𝓎༻⋆。 °⛧

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

୧ ‧₊˚ 🦇⋅ ☆

For some decades now, the remote Castle Corbeanu off the coast of the Black Sea has been entrenched in dark rumors, rumors that speak of the dead rising again, hidden in the shadows of night, terrorizing the countryside for… blood. Vampires, a legend that is no stranger to those lands. It comes as a day just like any other when you—a scientist working for the U.S. government to combat the existence of B.O.W.s—are abducted from your quiet apartment and taken to this very castle. What you find there is an estranged ex-Umbrella scientist by the name of Anton Corbeanu, and his crazed, undead experiment, Lord Venomaria, who seek your knowledge of modern bioweapons for a dark, sickening project that you can only find yourself dragged into. Your absence doesn’t go unnoticed forever, and eventually, with the discovery of where you might have been taken, special agent Leon Kennedy is dispatched to the Romanian coast to rescue you. Yet Doctor Corbeanu is no fool, he knows Leon’s track record, he knows both the dangers and benefits of letting the agent into his den. So he takes a calculated risk, with you at the center of everything. Caught between cruel threats and empty promises, all you can do is hope to save yourself.

ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕣𝕖:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63414736/chapters/162476953

ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥:

Vampires | Vampire Reader (beginning) | Vampire Leon Kennedy (later) | Minor Enemies to Lovers | Eventual Smut | Blood and Injury | In Progress

[just-trying-to-fangirl-in-peace]

Covenant (Thomas Hutter x fem!vampire!reader)

-> taking a human lover is more tricky than you had anticipated, so you give Thomas a choice

Warnings: description of a claustrophobic situation, smut (dom!reader x sub!Thomas as per usual) edging, cockwarming, (basically reader has Thomas eat while she sits on his cock), mentions of period-typical conceptions about sex and gender roles in society, mentions of blood drinking and potential death from it, hints to a traumatic past that explains reader’s need for control but I nothing specific

Notes: Oops I did it again (wrote a continuation I wasn’t planning on when posting the previous part). Shout out to the lovely people who commented about their appreciation for my Thomas x vamp!reader little impromptu series (The torment of wanting you, as it is now named). This one basically happened thanks to you🤗

Mature content below the cut - minors DNI!!!

He finds you standing before the hearth, in the grand hall where you had received him upon his arrival to your castle. The fire lights your skin as beautifully as it did that night, your gaze is just as enigmatic. Only this time, it is trained on the flames instead of him, as if they hold some secret his human eyes cannot see.

Perhaps they do. Thomas cares little as he approaches you with soft steps, though he is certain you could sense him even if he were as silent as a corpse. He wraps his arms around your waist from behind, pressing his lips to your neck. You inhale deeply—a comforting sound, given the circumstances in which he awoke by your side a few hours before—and lean into his touch.

“Good evening,” he murmurs. You hum once, content yet somewhat lost in thought, then turn to face him.

“Sleep well?” you ask knowingly, hands resting on his chest. Where his flesh had been painfully torn and bleeding beneath your cheek as he fell into exhausted slumber in the wake of your lovemaking. Yet he is perfectly honest when he replies, “Never better.”

You give a soft chuckle. “I should think so. No sleep so profound as death.” Your voice drops to a graver tone, devoid of mirth. “Or one very near to it.”

It had been very near, indeed. So near, Thomas had believed himself a quite literally dead man upon waking from it. A presumption made inevitable by the utterly sinister circumstance in which he had found himself...

🩸

🩸

🩸

...He wakes in darkness. Such darkness, in fact, that he is unsure whether he truly has emerged from his slumber. He feels conscious, feels his eyes open and hears his own breathing, but his mind is foggy in a not entirely unpleasant way, sluggish to make sense of his current position. He is lying on his side in quite a cramped space which smells of dirt and blood, half-draped across what feels like—

Oh. 

His heart nearly stutters into stillness. That is how he knows it still beats, despite how weakened your bite had left him. He recalls your teeth in his flesh, the pain only fueling his high as you rode him to a mind-shattering orgasm, then the last words he’d heard you speak before the darkness had closed in around him:

If you die… you’ll be like me.

He doesn’t feel dead. Though his mouth is horribly dry, he longs only for a sip of plain water. His limbs are stiff, his joints ache, his chest stings sharply where you bit him. He may not know much about how it feels to be undead, but he can’t imagine it would be this… human. 

Yet here he is, pressed against you tightly in the cramped space of your coffin.

That has to be where he is—and the inert body flush with his has to be yours. Thomas cannot let himself believe otherwise, lest he fly into a horrified panic.

He whispers your name in the dark, hoping to hear your voice. Neither his ears, nor his mind receive any reply. You do not even stir. All of you is completely still, it seems as he fumbles blindly, his hand finding the curve of your hip, then the shape of your stomach, the swell of your breast—he draws it away with a sting of guilt. He should not touch you in such a manner when you are in this state, and that had not been his intention. But feeling the now intimately familiar shape of your body serves to put his mind at ease, to a degree. He reaches out once more, higher than before, and lays his hand upon the flat of your chest.

Nothing. No rise and fall, no thrumming of a heartbeat. He is well aware of your nature and that this is to be expected, yet he shudders to know you so utterly… lost to the world. So vulnerable, even if only during the day. His foolish heart aches at the thought. If he knew no better, he would wrap himself around you even tighter, to shield you with his life from any and all forces who would dare try to harm you whilst you are theirs for the taking. But somehow, in your mysterious ways, you would know, and would surely resent him for acting upon such a sentiment.

In truth, his body would not thank him if he were to remain in the uncomfortably tight space, either. His stomach churns, begging him to replenish some of the energy he needs in order to heal after your feeding. There is no telling how many hours he has slept, or how many are left of the day. Perhaps even more worryingly, in his current predicament, is that the natural urge to relieve his bladder is becoming quite insistent. He refuses to contemplate the utter humiliation that would result once you awoke if he were to remain captive here much longer.

But even if he were able to remove the stone lid of the coffin from the inside—which he doubts he could do even at full strength—what would happen to you if he did? Would being out in the open when the sun is high vanquish you from existence, even if its rays never touch you? You conceal yourself within this coffin each day for a reason. You brought him here for a reason. Perhaps you’d thought him all but dead, already turning to one of your kind, and meant to offer him the same refuge you took before sunrise. A show of care—oh, if only. His chest constricts with longing, even as the tight, pitch black space makes it hard to breathe. Could it be you simply meant to torment him with this horrid imprisonment? Some twisted punishment for his audacity the night before, to switch your places and lay himself upon you instead of letting you ride him into blissful submission for the entirety of your lovemaking? When you pinned him to the mattress once more, he’d yielded in a heartbeat. But before, you had arched up into him with such rapture, welcomed him so greedily within you…

His traitorous cock twitches at the memory where it presses into your hip. Oh, God, no. He cannot add more hours of unquenched arousal to the list of bodily hardships he is to endure for the remainder of the day, however long that will be. Because endure, he must. He cannot risk your safety, even by what would surely be a failed attempt at moving the heavy stone—

There is a great scraping sound, then light floods in. Thomas cries out at the suddenness of it, throws his hand over his eyes. It is only long moments later, when his eyes have finally adjusted, that he realizes the light wasn’t even that bright to begin with. The lid has been partially dislodged from its place, just enough for Thomas to fit through. The wolf snarling down at him, however, makes such a thing impossible.

It is beyond useless, what he does then. He knows very well the wolves are your servants, and even if one were to turn against you, his fragile form would hardly provide any sort of protection from its vicious fangs. But, in a blink, Thomas throws his body over yours—your corpse—gripping you in a protective embrace. His rampant heart deafens him, his eyes shut tight as he waits for the animal to shred the flesh off his back.

All that follows is the sound of his panting breath, and the patter of the wolf’s feet against the stone floor as it walks away. By the time Thomas dares lift his head, the creature is already gone, leaving him feeling equal parts relieved and foolish. You may not be able to see him, but he avoids looking at you all the same as he fumbls his way out of the coffin. 

“Oh, Thomas,” he pictures you taunt with a sickly sweet chuckle. “Do you truly believe it in your power to protect me?”

You would say such a thing, no doubt. Yet for one who claims to hold so little regard for his feelings, you still went through a bit of trouble for his sake, it seems. Thomas is greeted with a chair and a table you had placed right there in the catacombs, and filled with three full courses of quite a hefty meal. Meat and fruit and bread all beckon to him. Resting against a bottle of wine, a note reads in large, elegant letters:

EAT

Concise and assertive, like the night he had first dined with you—or rather next to you, since you had showed no appetite until Thomas cut his finger. What he imagines to be a similarly intense hunger gnaws at him at the sight of the food you had graciously left him. There was hardly any need for the order, but even written, it sends a pleasant thrill down his spine. 

Though when he turns his gaze to you, he doesn’t see the demanding mistress he has come to know. Lying in your coffin, as though asleep, you look so delicate, so… harmless. You had changed your nightgown and cleaned the blood in which you had been covered, leaving you as beautiful as though your body had barely had the time to grow cold after you had given your last breath. As a matter of fact, Thomas is quite decent himself. The thought strikes him that you must have cleaned, clothed and carried him here all the way from his bedchamber, and some of his depleted blood reserve rushes up to heat his cheeks. A grown man, sound asleep whilst being carried like a child in a woman’s arms… If anyone in Wisburg were to witness such a thing, he would be the laughingstock of the town. Not only financially defective, but lacking in manhood as well—society might just have chewed him up more viciously than you ever could.

How fortunate, then, that their rules and opinions are of no importance here. Wealth, reputation, propriety—he is miles away from any and all such worldly concepts. 

He does not regret it. It has been hard enough, trying to fit into their stiff patterns. He wonders, as he stands by your coffin, unable to stop caressing your face with his gaze, what it had been like for you. Who you had been, before. How you had come to be what you are now… What had been done to you. He may be naïve to think it, but he can’t imagine you being this cold in life. He has glimpsed within you a softness—not that he would ever dare call it that to your face—long-buried and sealed away, yet ever-so-slightly present. Behind your eyes, when you warn him of how dangerous you are to him. In your voice, when he touches you tenderly. In the way you hold back from devouring him whole, even when he so recklessly begs you to.

It cannot be helped. He leans down and presses a kiss to your cold cheek, hoping you will not begrudge him the chaste gesture too harshly, and only then does he gather his strength and push the lid back into place.

🩸

🩸

🩸

“You had me sleep in your coffin,” he says at present, the memory making his skin flush with various conflicting emotions. Unease, bashfulness… hope. That he was not wrong to think it proof of your care for him, first and foremost, however rousing he might find your punishments.

“Sunrise was drawing near,” you say, your voice remaining purposely neutral. “If you were to turn after all, I could not very well leave you exposed, could I?” You tilt your head ever-so slightly, playfully curious. “Were you frightened?”

You sound as though the prospect pleases you. His terror, if only a short-lived amount, to balance the vulnerability of you sharing your sleeping—or rather, resting—place. Of course.

“Yes, quite,” Thomas confesses, eyes shifting from yours. “I awoke trapped in darkness. Not knowing whether I was still alive, at first. I felt my heart beating, and you lying by my side, but you were not…” He swallows, thickly. “I did not know how long I’d have to remain there. And when I saw the light, I… I thought I’d survived your bite only to become a wolf’s meal instead.”

Your lips curl upwards, cryptically. “They are clever children, my wolves,” you praise as you press yourself a little closer to him, idly playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Such loyal creatures, of great strength… and fine senses.”

Supernaturally so, Thomas suspects. But the how is not important. Only the facts of what occurred.

“You told it to release me if it heard me wake,” he says, wavering between a question and a statement. Either way, he doesn’t expect an answer. He touches his forehead to yours, and murmurs, “Thank you.”

You tilt your head away with a light scoff. “It’s common sense, Thomas,” you chastise, slipping from his arms. You spare him no further glance as you walk to the table, where you begin to pour a cup of wine. “I knew if you were still alive, you’d need sustenance to recover from my indulgence night before. Not to mention,” you add crudely, “I couldn’t have you relieving yourself on my leg like a dog.”

Ah, there it is. That scathing attitude, as though his sentiment is utterly juvenile.

“Of course,” Thomas says, unable to withhold a rather thick trace of sarcasm. “A purely practical matter. As was the intimacy we shared, was it not?”

The glass is full, and you set the bottle back down a touch too forcefully. Thomas winces at the harsh sound.

“You are quite confident,” you taunt, turning to him, “for a man who nearly died whilst getting fucked last night.”

Thomas flushes scarlet.

“Fucked and fed upon, yes,” he recalls heatedly. “And if I did die, I daresay it would have been worth the trouble.” Before you can conjure a retort, his feet force him towards you, invading your space. “Can’t you see I am at your mercy already, whether or not you humble me with indifference?” he all but begs, reeking of despair. “Not a moment goes by in your presence where I do not wish to have you.”

Something falters in your gaze, but only for a moment. “Even when we first met?” you raise a challenging eyebrow. “When I was sowing terror into your heart?”

You lift the glass, and Thomas wonders, confused, how come you are so courteous as to serve him in the middle of such an argument—only to be surprised when you bring it to your lips and take a long sip yourself. Not wine, then. You never drink that. Thomas had realized that much even before he had become fully aware of what you are. Yet the answer to your question is a resounding and pitiful yes.

“I must be a madman,” he thinks out loud in lieu of a reply. A smile tugs at your lips as the blood slides down your throat.

“My good fortune.”

Your good fortune. You feel fortunate to have Thomas in your grasp. It’s something, but it’s not enough, and the longing ache in his chest suddenly grows blinding.

With a ragged breath, he cups your face and pulls you into a needy kiss. For a moment that stretches out unbearably in his mind, you freeze under his lips, and he fears this time you may not give into him the way you had before. Perhaps he has asked for too much, defied you past the point of tolerance your vampiric pride will allow. But when he licks at your lips in a gentle plea, you release a low groan, set down your cup and—relief floods Thomas as you open up, fisting your hands in his shirt and returning his kiss as deeply as he wishes he could be inside you every moment of his existence.

The blood you were only just sipping—he can now taste it on your tongue. It pains him. Here he is, ripe and willing, yet you sup on another before his very eyes. He knows you risk draining him dry otherwise, but oh, how he wishes he could be the only taste upon your lips. He has only just recovered what little color there used to be in his pale cheeks before last night, he knows you would not succumb to the desire you both share without sating your bloodlust as well, yet he cannot fathom the thought of letting the night pass without holding you in the most intimate embrace of the flesh. He shall, then, pay the price. And relish every moment of it.

A quiet moan escapes your throat, a broken little noise laced with frustrated defeat. You grip his throat briefly, nails dragging against his skin without tearing it open. Thomas breaks the kiss to plant his lips onto your neck instead, beginning a trail of heated kisses he wishes to follow downward until it brings him to his knees, where he might lick your cunt until you tremble with pleasure above him. You would, he would make sure of it. Fuck you with his tongue till it bleeds, if he must.

But when he pinches a hardened nipple through your dress, you grab hold of his wrist, and his hair, and push him away. Thomas frowns as you withdraw from him entirely, and lean against the table as if to ground yourself. Your eyes land on your unfinished glass of blood, but you make no move towards it. With difficulty, it seems.

“Sit,” you rasp out at long last.

Thomas is eager to comply, though he attempts to refrain from rushing like an overexcited puppy as he lowers himself into the nearest chair—the same one, as it happens, from which he had gazed upon your terrifying beauty on his first night here. Back then, every cell in his body had been screaming that danger was near. Now, your one-word command is enough to have him grow to full hardness in his trousers. How will you have him this time, he wonders? Weeping with arousal whilst drowning between your thighs? Crying out your name as you ride him until the chair shatters beneath him? Or… dare he imagine you might grant him the feeling of your lips wrapped around his aching cock? You had said yourself that part of him is quite safe from your sharp teeth, but the prospect of knowing it at their mercy alone…

He swears there is a subtle trace of amusement in your expression, as though his thoughts have reached you, as they sometimes do. There’s hunger, too. Quickly subdued into steely resolve.

“Eat,” you say curtly. Waving a careless hand towards the food he had hardly even noticed was laid on the table. Turning away as though the passion between you had not been ignited into a wildfire mere moments before. 

“I-I have,” Thomas argues in disbelief. Mere hours before, more than enough.

“Not enough.” Your tone leaves no room for argument as you take your seat at the head of the table. “You are still recovering.”

“I am in no disposition…” He shouldn’t argue, he knows, but he can’t spare the briefest thought to the feast before him when he yearns to become one with you again. “I have no appetite for any taste but yours,” he insists. “If you would be so kind as to sit yourself before me, I shall gladly dine between your legs, my lady.”

There is a hitch in your breath, so small Thomas thinks he might have imagined it. But the fact that you are not impervious to his sensual promises is no surprise by now. He is not entirely powerless, as you so hate to be reminded. Ironically, it makes him weak with want.

“Poor Thomas,” you coo, resting your elbows on the table and your chin on your knuckles. “Once a gentleman of impeccable manners… now a lost soul begging for cunt.”

“My soul is not lost,” he says, nothing short of worshipful. “I have laid it in your hands.”

“And yet you will not obey me.”

“At times,” he admits. Then adds tentatively, “I find it pleases you.”

“Do you, now?”

It feels like a threat. Thomas’s skin prickles as your gaze grows cold, lowering the temperature in the room along with it.

“Well, to a certain… extent,” he corrects himself.

Too late. With icy grace, you reach for your glass and take a long drink from it. Blood trickles from the corner of your mouth when you are finished. As you catch it with your thumb, you order, “Take out your cock.”

Thomas’s mind is so hazy with arousal and nerves, he doesn’t comprehend what you are asking at first. Upon the insistent gaze you pin him with, however, his mind hastens to catch up and his hands fly to his crotch at once.

You do not rush him further, but his fingers stumble over each other in their hurry to unfasten his trousers and free his erection. He aches to give himself a soothing stroke as he pulls himself out in the open, but he does not wish to provoke you further. He is already walking that fine line between submission and defiance which never fails to have him leaking at the tip with torturous anticipation. He can wait a little longer.

Or not. It doesn’t matter. He shall wait however long you make him.

But you make no further delays. The moment he had done as you said, you rise from your seat and stride your way over to his.

It’s too easy, he thinks. No ruthless teasing, no vengeful grabbing of his hair or demeaning remark. All you do is pull up your dress, straddle his lap, and—no undergarments on you. You’ve left yourself bare so he can better reach you, and that knowledge is enough to expel any trace of worry from his mind, crawling its way straight to the hard member between his legs. With dizzying swiftness, you take him in your hand, wet his tip through your slick folds once, then put it to your entrance and push your hips down, hard, taking your rightful seat upon his cock.

“God, yes,” Thomas breathes out as he sinks into you. Your cunt grips him as viciously as you bit into him the night before, but your face betrays vexingly little of your pleasure as you begin to fuck yourself on his cock at a languid pace.

“God will not help you here,” you rasp out, your gaze shredding into his soul as you sink your fingers in his hair. Thomas could not agree more. The only help he needs is you, working your hips faster, wrapping yourself around him closer. His hands have planted themselves on your hips of their own accord, grabbing desperately onto your flesh, and he struggles to refrain from needily guiding you into a more vigorous pace. Every inch his flesh slides wetly against yours is the most exquisite torture, on the very brink between too much and not enough.

And yet, despite it all, you are so… impassive. So seemingly unaffected by his touch, unlike the night before, unlike even during your kiss, a few minutes past. A lump settles in Thomas’s throat, even as his pleasure mounts towards a slow yet inevitable peak. He leans in to kiss you, to soothe his unease, but you catch his chin in a none too gentle grip, nails digging into his cheeks as you keep him at bay. Your voice is only slightly breathless as you quicken your movements.

“Is this what you wanted?” you whisper through your teeth, lashing him with your words. “Like so?”

He can barely remember the word yes as he stutters it out. You are furious, that much is plain to see, but if this is the punishment you see fit to dole out—if your wish is to have him as he is now, whimpering and quaking within your grip, utterly helpless to do anything but take the pleasure building in his loins and let it tear him to pieces on its glorious way out, he will gladly grant you the sight, gladly let you lay claim to every last drop of his seed that is soon to—

You stop. A broken wail is punched from Thomas’s throat. From his very soul, it feels like as you remain hot and silky and perfect around his cock, yet denying him the friction he desperately needs.

“What? I—Please...” He can’t seem to string two words together. He does attempt to move your hips now, but he stands no chance against your strength as you sush him, gently pushing him by the neck so he slumps against the back of his seat.

“You know, last night…” you pretend to contemplate, leaning slightly backwards to admire his sweat-glistening face, “I found it wonderfully stimulating to feed and fuck at once. Perhaps you shall, too.”

More. He needs more. He needs to come. When his world has been reduced to nothing but that, you cannot possibly expect him to—

“I’m so close,” he begs you breathlessly, tears threatening to gather in his eyes. “I will do as you say, just… let me please you first.”

His fingers head tentatively up your thigh. If he could just touch your clit, no doubt aching and woefully neglected as you hold yourself still… If he could feel you come on his cock, it would likely suffice to drag him over the edge as well.

A futile wish. You shake your head slowly, as if scolding a child, and he dares go no further.

“I told you…” you all but growl, “to eat.”

You must have moved in that supernaturally disorienting way you do, because he can’t recall when exactly you had reached behind you for the slice of bread you are now holding. Or perhaps he has simply grown truly delirious with need.

You rip a bite-sized piece, and hold it to his lips, your gaze telling him everything he needs to know. Your insistence may have been about his bodily well-being before, but now… now you just want him eating from the palm of your head. And you would not be you if that didn’t come with a side of sensual torment.

Naturally, Thomas opens his mouth, and lets you place the bread onto his tongue.

Somehow, the act of eating in the midst of a sexual act feels just as decadent as you feeding on him, when you’re fucking or not. It’s utterly surreal, something out of Friedrich’s lurid tales from their school years. Thomas never could quite look him in the eye as he went on about the delights his visits to the brothel had to offer, and the few times he had indulged in carnal pleasures himself, well… he had learned a few basic skills his future wife would no doubt have been pleased with, but sex for the sake of sex had never been quite as fulfilling or adventurous as his good friend made it out to be.

Love, however, had changed Friedrich to a near unrecognizable extent, all his lust suddenly reserved for his beloved Anna and no one else. Thomas had imagined that was the missing piece for him. Connection. But once he had that, how could he look his wife in the eye and ask her for things he barely dared articulate in his own mind on the nights he stroked himself to a frantic end? To strip him of the control society expected him to demonstrate each day, keep him dangling on the edge of despair, holding his pleasure in her teeth to release or shred it at will? Such things belonged in a pleasure house, not a proper marriage.

You are neither. You are beyond. It’s plain to see now that his truest desires were always meant for you, and no one else.

“Good boy,” you murmur as Thomas swallows the third or fourth bite, and he nearly chokes on it. The act of chewing and the taste of food somewhat distract him from his aching cock, but it’s more frustration than relief. Your cunt clenches around him every so often, bringing the lightest falter in your expression. Your gaze softens with each obedient little morsel he receives from your hand, and he could spend years being looked at the way you are doing now. He wonders if you are aware of it, or if your own unfulfilled pleasure has led you to reveal that tenderness he so desperately craves to know is there.

The bread, once finished, is followed by a piece of meat. Stake, he believes. It hardly matters. You seem to rip it into bite-sized pieces with less effort than it takes his jaw to chew it, and the thought of your strength, so much greater than his, has him throbbing painfully within you. But he takes what you give, and he likes it. He always does. Always will. And when you praise him for it, tenderly caressing his damp cheeks with your knuckles while he quietly eats the meal he’s being fed, he doesn’t feel pathetic. He feels every bit like you say he is—good.

When, at last, he has taken the last bite, lips wrapped around your fingers as he drags it from their grip, he shut his eyes tight as he swallows, willing himself to accept whatever comes next without begging you to fuck him once again. He opens them to the sight of you taking a long sip from your glass of blood, and a frustrated whimper escapes him despite his best efforts. That should be him. His veins, his heart—

But then you grab his cheek, and pull him in, and kiss the liquid into his mouth. The whimper turns to a deep moan at the heady taste. This time, it is wine. The most exquisite he has ever tasted, burning through his throat and dripping down his chin. Once your mouths connect, something in you shifts, and—oh, finally. You toss the cup aside and grip him feverishly, deepening the kiss with unmistakable urgency as the glass shatters, completely ignored. Your hips snap against his with abandon as you gasp into his mouth on each downward thrust, chasing your pleasure, having left all thoughts of wicked games behind.

Thomas could not be more grateful for your unpredictable mood-changes than he is now, moaning and latching onto any part of you his fingertips can find. He wraps one arm around you, pulling you as close as he can keep you whilst you bounce wildly on his cock, and when he manages to sneak his other hand between you and rub your swollen clit, you release a mewl he wants etched into his mind for eternity, and bury you face in his neck.

“Yes,” he gasps. “Yes, please.”

Please come, please make me come, please bite me—all of it. Thomas can’t decide. Your teeth scrape at his skin, seemingly about to choose which desire they are to fulfil first.

You spit out a word in a language he doesn’t understand. Surely, a curse, because you then throw yourself off of him, leaving him reeling once again. He doesn’t have the time to complain, nor the presence of mind to do anything but let you handle him as you please as you yank him from the chair and shove him down, mounting him once he is lying on the ground.

The stone floor is cold, but you take him back inside you at once, and that is all Thomas cares about. Your hands are pinning him down, his chest and neck and any other prettily flushed part of him firmly held away from your mouth. He is fine, he wants to say, he can take being bitten, as he has before, but words fail him at the sight of you moving above him, eyes shut and lips parted in the golden light of the fire. That, paired with the feeling of his length being swallowed into your cunt, might just kill him before your bite does.

For now, though, it just makes him come. All at once, the pleasure in his cock reaches a mind-numbing peak and he begins to spill inside you. He need not worry, though, for you are coming undone yourself barely a moment later, crying out his name. He swears that sound alone prolongs his orgasm to a near-painful extent, and yet he still wishes it could last a moment longer once it ebbs away, leaving the two of you a panting mess on the floor.

You have lost the strength with which you were holding him down, and though Thomas is blissfully exhausted himself, he sits up, gathering you in his arms. You make a small sound of surprise when his mouth catches yours, but return his kiss all the same. Melt into it, even, your lips moving together with a gentleness that makes his chest ache. He needs you like this, too. Perhaps, so do you, after all.

Thankfully, you don’t try to deny it as you pull away, forehead resting against his. It may be unwise to risk shattering the moment, but the question is too insistent in Thomas’s mind not to be asked.

“Why didn’t you bite me?” he whispers.

For a long moment, his only answer is the crackle of the fire, and your thumb idly brushing his lower lip.

“It is too soon,” you whisper back. “I have no use for you dead.”

Only you could say such callous words so… tenderly.

“I did not die,” Thomas counters softly. “And if I did… there was an alternative.”

“If you die… you’ll be like me.”

“Good,” he had said, too tired to really contemplate it. Would it matter if he belonged to the shadows, so long as he still belonged to you?

You stiffen in his arms. Pull away to fix him with a stern look.

“That is not an alternative,” you say. “It was a mistake.”

Thomas feels his chest crumble. “No,” the word tumbles out. “No, that is not true. I can never return to my life as it was. If that is what it takes to remain at your side, I will take the risk.”

“That’s just it, Thomas,” you retort, beginning to retreat behind that wall of ice beyond which he so rarely sees. “If you were like me, I would never have you at my side.”

“But why?”

“Because if you were as powerful as I, I could not stand to have you near me!” you snap. “Let alone allow this.”

You push yourself off him, making him wince as his spent cock abruptly slips out of you. He hurries to make himself decent as you walk away, too overcome by the mess you have made of his mind and heart to bother fixing the one you left between his legs.

“I would never hurt you,” he vows as he scrambles to his feet. You have walked to the hearth once more, refusing to turn your gaze away from the flames, but he must be heard all the same. “Whether I am your equal in power or not, whatever it is you fear, you need not fear it from me. Look into my mind if you must, see that it is true. Surely, you must know it is,” he entreats, voice raw with emotion, “or you would not have lain with me in such close embrace within your place of rest.”

Within your coffin, that is. During the day. When you were inert, utterly vulnerable. You take in a sharp breath upon hearing his words. You will not look at him.

“Had you shown the barest sign of ill-intent towards me, my wolves would have torn you to shreds.” Your voice is uncharacteristically quiet, and grows even smaller. “As I understand, you did the opposite.”

As you understand. So, they speak to you as well, somehow. Thomas flushes as he remembers how he threw himself upon your body in his misguided attempt to protect you. It wasn’t just a matter of convenience or care that you had your companions open the lid. It was a test. But if you still will not trust him, what was it for?

He doesn’t get to ask. When you next speak, your voice is loud and clear—business-like, even.

“I should like to make you a proposition, Thomas.”

You reach into the hearth. Thomas knows better than to fear for you, but the sight is still surreal as you retrieve a rather large piece of paper from the flames, as perfectly unscathed as your hand. You walk over to him with grace, as though his seed isn’t trickling down your thighs beneath your dress. The alluring thought is quickly set aside as you hand him the paper, and he reads the elegantly written title.

“A contract?” He gives you a questioning look. “I was under the impression we had put the paperwork behind us.”

“Oh, it was never behind us,” you say, having regained some of your characteristic coyness. “I still have every intention of moving into the property whose purchase you came here to secure. I also had every intention of bleeding Knock dry the moment my business with him was done, but… the old goat sent you instead.”

Thomas lifts his eyes to you.

“He fell ill, shortly before he was to leave,” he says, frowning. “I… assumed that was you doing, somehow. To bring me here.”

You chuckle softly. “You flatter yourself, Thomas. You may hold my interest now, but prior to your arrival, I was perfectly unaware of your existence. You see, your proprietor had a penchant for meddling with forces he could not hope to comprehend. He reached out to the shadows, seeking nefarious ways to further enrich himself. He was but a lost dog, barking at the wrong door. Pathetic,” you spit out the word. Then your voice softens. “But something… something made me answer.”

The look you give him, as though you were gazing at something pleasantly fascinating, makes Thomas light-headed. “What was it?”

“Providence, it seems,” you confess, gaze shifting with a trace of melancholy. “In truth, I had grown weary of these walls. Of locals who know more than I would like them to about my kind. Knock’s mind was weak, beyond easy to snare, even from afar. I could have used him to secure safe travels to your town, but during the day, I am… vulnerable, as you well know. My influence is not as strong. And a stringed puppet is nowhere near as reliable,” you rest a finger on the paper, “as a familiar.”

Thomas lowers his eyes towards the word. The meaning of it is not yet known to him, yet it feels as though his very life suddenly hangs upon that tiny string of letters at the tip of your finger.

“It is a rare thing,” you tell him as he skims through the document. “And not a decision made lightly. This sort of bond requires a certain… intimacy. Permanently binding. The covenant must be entered willingly, by one I have chosen to be my companion. My trusted assistant.”

“A servant, you mean.” It certainly seems that way, judging by the few scattered sentences his eyes have landed upon.

“A lover,” you insist, “whose body is not so frail that I must take heed not to break it each time I indulge in the pleasures of his flesh and blood.” All of a sudden, you take the paper from his hands and set it aside on the table. You step into his space to pull him closer by the shoulders, and his arms circle your waist like they belong to you instead of him. “You would not be as powerful as I, but part of my power would be yours. Being bound to one who lives would allow me to remain awake past dawn, and in turn, one drop of my blood would suffice to heal any injury you may suffer. I would make you immortal, Thomas. But most importantly… I would make you mine. Is that not what you wanted?”

Your voice is honey laced with the sweetest temptation. His occupation taught him better than to enter any deal whose terms he does not fully comprehend, but he is dangerously close to doing so when you are gazing at him with something this close to yearning. Because you are right—he does want to be yours, more than what feels like almost anything. And knowing you want him as well, enough to make what seems to be a twisted, vampiric version of a marriage proposal, permanently binding…

“Would I…” he stumbles over the words, clinging to the one sobering thought that stands between him and signing his name blindly whilst kissing you to his death. “Would I need to feed the way you do?”

Your lips curl into a sweetly condescending smile. “You tremble at the thought of living as I do, yet you claim you are willing to risk it. No, Thomas,” you then assure him in all seriousness, “You would not have such… intense cravings.”

“What does that—”

You press your lips to his. Gently and demanding all at once, reducing him to silence. If you mean to remind him he could not bear to live without your touch now that he has felt it, you are excruciatingly effective. Is the longing he feels in your kiss truly there, or does he only feel it because he is desperate to believe you need him to say yes? 

A wavering breath leaves you as you pull away, and that is very real. “The terms are all there,” you say quietly, looking into his eyes. “Read it well. Fine print and all.” You step away, finding your composure in the space you put between you. “If you decide you wish to sign, come find me.”

Thomas swallows thickly. “And if I do not?”

He couldn’t bear to hear it, doesn’t even want to contemplate the possibility you might send him away. But he needs to understand the choice he has before him.

The prospect of a refusal hardly pleases you, either. You clench your jaw, gaze steely. “I will not feed you my blood again,” you warn, “and I grow weary of suppressing my cravings for your sake. Stay as you are at your own peril.”

With that, you walk away, leaving him alone with the flames and the piece of paper you had forged in them. He heard your words, he understands their meaning. But his foolish heart echoes the one he most longed to hear.

Stay.

Thomas takes a seat, and begins to read.

Next part -> Bound