#Lenore/Sparrow

[lazyroseart]

Sparrow being a mom and spending time with babies she loves so much. They fall asleep every time when Sparrow reads to them.

Logan as a kid had a little bit of curl to his hair while his sister Antoinette has curl/wavy hair and inherited beauty mark like dad *looks at Reaver*

[cherie-soup]

nevermore artists of tumblr. please. we need to see an ever after high x nevermore collaboration. some ideas:

Lenore- Raven Queen

Eulalie- Maddie Hatter

Berenice- Kitty Cheshire

Ada- Blondie Lockes or Faybelle Thorn

Annabel Lee- Darling Charming

Montresor- Daring Charming or Sparrow Hood

Will- Dexter Charming

Pluto- Hopper Croakington

Duke- Alistair Wonderland

Morella- C.A. Cupid

Merry and Mourn- narrators

Prospero- Apple White or Red Knight

please. i will pay you with my firstborn child this is a need

credits to my dear friends of the purloined letter discord server they're epic

[withering-daylight]

⋆. 𐙚 ̊INTRO POST`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

Hi .ᐟ

Valentine (You can call me Valerie) ౨ৎ she/her ౨ৎ INFJ ౨ৎ writer ౨ৎ sage green and creme is my favorite color combo <3 ౨ৎ NSFW + SFW ౨ৎ fluff + angst ౨ৎ fics, headcanons, drabbles, and hints to whatever im working on ౨ৎ minors please don’t interact with NSFW content on my account !!!

MASTERLIST

RULES:

I WONT write anything like incest, scat, bestiality, rape, age-play, pedophilia, cheating (both on reader and character) ౨ৎ

𓇢𓆸

Please be respectful when requesting ౨ৎ i wont fill out requests by order ౨ৎ i don’t want to feel pressured to write a request, so again just please be respectful and understanding ౨ৎ

WHO I WRITE FOR:

HTTYD (mainly)

Hiccup Haddock III, Astrid Hofferson, Ruffnut Thorston, Tuffnut Thorston, Heather, Dagur, Snotlout Jorgenson, Fishlegs Ingermen, Eret, Queen Mala

LOST

Jack Shephard, James “Sawyer” Ford, Kate Austen, Jin-Soo Kwon, Sun-Hwa Kwon, Sayid Jarrah, Charlie Pace, Claire Littleton, Desmond Hume, Shannon Rutherford, Boone Carlyle, Ana Lucia Cortez

THE HUNGER GAMES (including prequel versions of characters)

Katniss Everdeen, Peeta Mellark, Effie Trinket, Haymitch Abernathy, Finnick Odair, Annie Cresta, Johanna Mason, Lenore Dove, Lucy Gray, Burdock Everdeen, Otho Mellark, Maysilee Donner, Coriolanus Snow, Cinna, Cato, Marvel, Clove, Glimmer, Gale Hawthorne, Primrose Everdeen, Rue, Madge Undersee, (For characters such as Prim and Rue, I will only write platonically for them.)

THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY

Luther Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves, Allison Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves, Five Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves, Viktor Hargreeves, Sparrow Academy members (I don’t feel like listing all their names), Lila Pitts

I will update this list as I get into more shows/movies, if I missed characters you are still allowed to request them.

REQUESTING:

Please don’t be vague, I need a plot line— a detailed one so I can make sure you are satisfied with your request. Also for NSFW, be specific!!! If you are vague with your request I won’t fulfill it. DON’T COPY AND PASTE THE SAME REQUEST TO DIFFERENT WRITERS!!! I say this to avoid any accidental plagiarism, and any conflict.

I plan to post 2-3 times a week if possible!

I DO NOT GIVE CONSENT FOR MY WORK TO BE STOLEN, REPOSTED, CLAIMED AS SOMEONE ELSE’S, TRANSLATED (UNLESS I GIVE PERMISSION), OR CHANGED AND POSTED.

request: OPEN .ᐟ

[raven-nerd4life]

just imagine annabel singing "dying on the inside" by nessa Barrett

And lenore sings " she' crazy but she's mine" by Alex sparrow

[dayflow]

25 books for 2025 - Mar/Apr update!

a book by Agatha Christie

Arsenic and Adobo by Mia P. Manansala

Assistant to the Villain by Hannah Nicole Maehrer - Jan/Feb

Elvis and Me by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley with Sandra Harmon

Everything Is Tuberculosis: The History and Persistence of Our Deadliest Infection by John Green - purchased the physical book. i've been watching vlogbrothers videos on YT for years. reading about henry reider's story mixed w/ the history of tb was touching; i'm glad henry got the treatment and care he needed and is doing better now. ⭐️⭐️⭐️.75

From Here to the Great Unknown by Lisa Marie Presley and Riley Keough

In Want of a Suspect by Tirzah Price - borrowed the ebook from the library. lizzy and darcy as solicitors in london solving a murder! i love when my otp is reimagined into different AUs, it's so much fun ⭐️⭐️⭐️.75

a book† by Jane Austen - Jan/Feb

Lights Out by Navessa Allen

a book† by L.M. Montgomery

Magician: Apprentice* by Raymond E. Feist

Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

Scythe & Sparrow by Brynne Weaver - bought the physical book, loved reading this on my lunch break, even w/ all the violence and killing. fun vibes and romance. ⭐️⭐️⭐️.5

Sunrise on the Reaping by Suzanne Collins - borrowed the ebook from the library, i think they had multiple copies because it originally had a hold on it but after a week it became available, i had to jump on it! read it in 3 days and LOVED it! went out and bought the book when i finally had time. i felt SO BAD for haymitch! poor lenore dove! ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Bear and the Nightingale by Katherine Arden

a Discworld book† by Terry Pratchett - re-read my old worn paperback copy of small gods. every few years, it's nice to think about religion and philosophy, laugh over Pratchett's wit and writing, and have a bit of hope and faith in humanity restored ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The God of the Woods by Liz Moore

The Lord of the Rings* by J.R.R. Tolkien

The Ministry of Time by Kaliane Bradley - borrowed the audiobook from the library, i loved the setup of this story, how the narrator deals w/ these people out of time, and the mystery that develops for the last half of the book, it was so good! not a happy ending, but a hopeful one ⭐️⭐️⭐️.5

a Princess Diaries* book by Meg Cabot - Jan/Feb

The Rushworth Family Plot by Claudia Gray

The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides

This Is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone - Jan/Feb

White Nights by Fyodor Dostoevsky - free classic ebook that i downloaded from apple books, read it in day, took a bit to get into because even though the prose is beautiful, it isn't what i'm used to. i guessed the ending early on and it's not really happy, more of a bittersweet melancholy one ⭐️⭐️⭐️.5

The Hurricane Wars by Thea Guanzon

7 more books done yay! 14 left to go! woot woot! i'm almost 1/2 way done! woo hoo! 🎉

i'm currently listening to Murder On The Orient Express by Agatha Christie, so that should be crossed off by the end of the month. and my library hold for Lights Out by Navessa Allen should be coming up soon. i think i'm probably going to slow down a bit once those 2 are done. some of the remaining books aren't available at the library or just don't interest me right now and i don't know if i want to purchase them or not. we'll see how it goes. 🤷‍♀️

thanks for reading and good luck w/ your tbr! 🥰

[imasradiantasthesun]

Does the lack of singing or Covey associations with Gadge provide any security from President Snow in Holding Bright?

oooo good question!! i’d definitely think so. as we saw in SOTR, snow has not let his grudge against lucy gray go and is convinced that all covey girls are the same. so i think neither madge nor gale having any connections to the covey definitely holds him off from acting on his grudge if that makes sense, though that doesn’t necessarily mean all their other rebellious actions and non-capitol vibes will just be brushed off

however there are still some connections to singing and music that i think would still make snow uneasy, namely gale singing the meadow song to rue just like katniss did in canon. madge also plays the piano, so there’s more musical connection (also, from SOTR it’s implied that the piano lenore dove used to practice on is the same one that madge owns and plays)

in a few chapters of holding bright, gale also whistles some songs — Pretty Saro, Which Side Are You On, and Katy Dear — that are traditional Appalachian folk songs irl! while all the songs lucy gray sang were more-or-less original (iirc), i imagine the ones i mention in holding bright were likely D12 in origin, but totally could’ve been performed by (and associated with) the covey. irl Which Side Are You On is a protest song, so i think if anyone in the capitol were able to pick out what it is from whistling (unlikely), they wouldn’t let it slide. Katy Dear and Pretty Saro (my personal favorite of the three) are more love ballads

if you’d like, i have a playlist for holding bright that includes the aforementioned songs as well as a few other Appalachian folk songs, namely:

Troubles by Anna & Elizabeth

The Rising of the Moon by Tia Blake

Sing Sparrow Sing (The Ballad of Walter Kohn) by Among the Smoke & Ash

Turtle Dove by Tia Blake

Cumberland Gap by David Rawlings

[yallemagne]

I feel like I need to write write write something for today-- may not be Renfield because I don't have anything in stock.

MINA FINALLY ATTAINS NEWS OF HER BELOVED. And she lets Lucy take care of her luggage (bring her with you please bring her with you please Mina) because it will be a long journey and possibly a longer stay. The moment she knows where he is, she rushes to where, feeling so blessed to know he is still alive. He's truly still alive, he's only waiting for her. She shall travel fast like Lenore to get to her love and finally have their wedding night, but unlike Lenore, her love is not already dead.

Always, Seward says something, and I am like "I.. hum... please don't say that. Oh, don't say that." Jacky-boy, I know it hurts your little ego to not be seen as higher than your employees... but comparing yourself to an eagle and all others to sparrows? It seems you are the one who will soon call himself God. Especially considering that sparrows are Renfield food. He's wondered previously if Renfield would eat a man, but he considers himself higher than other men. So, we know that, if Seward were to abandon his morals (thankfully, he won't), he's not going to put his own life at stake, not when he is a mighty eagle and he has sparrows to spare.

ALSO RENFIELD'S VOICE MMMM. He's so good.

[that-dumbass-rabbit]

I just spent 2hrs scrolling name lists.........

Anyways here's all my favorite people names in alphabetical order

Adorene/ada, Agnetta/agnes, Alice, Amaris, Amber, Andromeda, Arcus, Ashford, Astra, Astrid, Aspen, Atreus, Avalon, Bennet, Blossom, Blythe, Briar, Cadence, Canary, Casper, Cecil, Cedar, Clement, Colette, Cyrus/cyril, Darcy, Day, Declan, Ebony, Emeric, Emile, Emory, Enid, Ethel, Etta/ette, Fern, Finch, Finnegan/Finn, Fletcher, Florence, Glenn, Harmony, Harper, Ingrid, Iris, Kestrel, Kiara, Lark, Lenore, Lucinda, Mallory, Maple, Marinea/marin, Marisol, Melody, Milo, Mitte, Mitzi, Nieve, Olivia, Orion/Oreon, Oswald, Otis, Penn, Seraphina, Sonnet/sonata, Sparrow, Spencer, Sylvia, Wexel/wessel/wess, Winifred, Wisp, Wren

Feel free to rb with your favorites and maybe I'll add em on if I like em too

[iamapoopmuffin]

Hello and Welcome to 'I share the silly entrance animations for my silly wrestler characters and encourage you to make assumptions about them as people based purely on these videos' where exactly that and @randomfrog2 encouraged me to so here you all go. Links will be filled over time, I couldn't record or upload them all in one go.

Under the cut because between 2k22 and 2k23 there Will eventually be 200 of them total

Abatai 'Abby' Xiao

Ace Dominguez

Adalia Mitchell/Adalia Undead

Adam Cooke/Adam Frankenstein

Adelaide Anderson

Adriel Duffy

Aidan Seeds

Aiko Yamamoto

Aisling Miller

Alan Burgess/The Necromancer

Alexis Thurston

Alfie Winchester

Alfonse 'Avalanche' Boucher

Alfonso Price/Alpha Ali

Alicia Tigner

Alyssa Evans

Amos Wellworth/The Purple Pig

Andy Poux/Andy Scathe

Angelina Manhardt

Archie Robinson/Archie Eagle

Ash Daugherty/The Rubber Chicken Man

Aster Chadha/The Spider

Audriana Parrakkal/The Phantom

Augustus de Blaauw

Aura Hilton

Austin Kirwan/Austin England

Ayanna Mariani

Bartholomew Reeves

Beatrice Lipe

Bertie Bronner

Betsy-Ann Sol

Blaire Wilcox

Brea Orko

Brook Edghort/Captain Brook Edghort

Bruno 'The Felon' Fraser

Bryant 'The Harpy' Tremblay

Caius Pabon

Carlene Skrzypczynski

Cheryl Vogel

Clemence Maurer

Clifford Gilbert

Colin Almarez/Mint Man Almarez

Colt Smiley

Constance Cole

Cooper Carnocan/The Janitor

Damien Kudlinski

Darin Ahmed

Davina Finister

Demetrius Kappotis

Dempsey Blair

Deodatus Bisnett

Dewey Roll/Cottonmouth

Dick Dexter/Dickhead Dexter

Dmitri Pavlov/Glowmaster

Donald Ripa/Queen Ripa

Dympna Lammchen

Edd Woods

Elina Baene/Swamp Witch Elina

Elton Maldonado

Elvira Leithead/Elvira Flash

Elwood McLaren

Elysia Brunner

Emerald Ashley

Erica Shooter/Naughty Nurse Shooter

Ernesto Curry

Evan Stewart/Evan Galaxium

Everly Leigh

Ezio Fahim

Fae Nicholas

Fia Matthews/The Jester

Floyd Gossard/Heartstopper Gossard

Ford Gossard/Showstopper Gossard

Gayle Mokriy

Genevieve Lee/Snake Princess

Gerard Apple

Ginnie Davey

Greg McCarthy/Superstar Greg McCarthy

Guadalupe Batchelor

Harith Rammurthy/Talon Rammurthy

Harry Moore/Machine Gun Harold

Hettie McCormack/Pookie Bunny

Ianthe Jennings/Ianthe Plague

Ilene Fanshaw

Indiana Stone

Indigo Wilson

Indira Doxtator

Isabel Abbeglen

Ishaan Prabhu

Ivo Carrico/Portuguese Man O' War

Jacques Smith

Jak McNicholas

Javon George/The Pimp Javon

Jeana Quinn

Jebediah Oprea

Jeremy Cruz

Jimmie Hutton

Jock Kelly

Joey Duvall/Joey D

Jonas Gabriel/Fox Gabriel

Jordan Barr

Kaden Dunlap

Kailey Samuels

Kanon Ozawa

Kaori Flores

Karter John

Kasumi Wellard

Katrina Giraud

Kehlani Who

Kelby Kadeer/King Kelby

Kenneth Christmas/Fly Boy Kenny

Kimberley Wainwright

Kiyomi Roman

Kori Hernandez

Kyra Padhi

Langdon Mass

Lenore Dillard

Liang Tao

Lillia Robertson

Lilly Ansa/Lilith Ansa

Lincoln Swinton

Lionel Connor

Lisa Belrose

Liz Schlachter

Louis Bridget/Big Baby

Lukas Craveiro/Senator Lukas Craveiro

Maddison Toxtle/Toxic Maddi

Maia Smith

Marci Britt

Marcus Gardiner

Margarita Harrison

Mariella Gillet/Iron Kitten

Marina Gonzo

Mavis Payton/The Blushing Bride

Meena Gacitua

Meghan Schreck

Mim McHoney

Mitsuki Ootani/Bon Bon Bunny

Myles Neil/Steamboat Willie

Nancy Sharp

Nelly James

Netty Richardson

Norma 'The Doll' Laskey

Nyx Vanderhoff

Ollie Logan/Witch Doctor Logan

Pancake Spryert

Pam Eisen

Perry 'The Worm' Ticehurst

Princess Warren

Quiana Billings

Quincey Crabb

Reabetswe Okonjo

Reilly Jeppe

Ruby Ankney

Rufus Robby

Rupert English/Rupert Beauty

Sable Bow

Samantha Trapp

Samuel Perryman

Sasha Fedosov/Adorable Aleksander

Shayne Zaveri

Sheridan Lowe/Rosebud Lowe

Sloane Koskic

Sofie Tanner

Sommer Chauhan

Sparrow Martin

Stacey Jacobs/The Metal Mouth Maniac

Stephen Shabnur/Kitty Stephen

Sunny Cockerill

Sven Miller Garrett

Tabitha Valot/T Valentine

Teri Cullen

Ursula Benjamin

Verity Ahmed/Gremlin Ahmed

Victoria Wangdi/Princess Victoria Wang

Vivi Masters

Walter Cauley

Willis 'Turbo Fox' Judd

Xandria Cruz

Yaoting Duan

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Some books and plays I have read that are older than me oand/or were written before I was born:

Plays:

• Much Ado About Nothing by William Shakespeare

• The Tempest by William Shakespeare

• Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare

• Hamlet by William Shakespeare

• Julius Ceasar by William Shakespeare

• A Midsummer Night's Dream

• Oedipus Rex by Sophocles

• Our Town by Thornton Wilder

Fairy Tales and Fables:

• The Little Mermaid by Hans Christian Andersen

• The Little Match Girl by Hans Christian Andersen

• The Snow Queen by Hans Christian Andersen

• The Ugly Duckling by Hans Christian Andersen

• The Emperor's New Clothes by Hans Christian Andersen

• The Nightingale by Hans Christian Andersen

• The Princess and the Pea by Hans Christian Andersen

• The Most Incredible Thing by Hans Christian Andersen

• The Frogs and the Ox;Belling the Cat;The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse;The Fox and the Grapes;The Wolf and the Crane;The Lion and the Mouse;The Crow and the Pitcher; The Fox and the Stork;The Fox and the Leopard;The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing;The Wolf, the Kid, and the Goat;The Lion's Share;The Wolves and the Sheep;The Ass in the Lion's Skin;The Farmer and the Snake; They Dog and the Oyster;The Wolf and the House Dog;Three Bullocks and a Lion; The Vain Jackdaw and His Borrowed Feathers;The Dogs and the Fox;The Farmer and the Cranes; and The Goose and the Golden Egg... by Aesop

• The Frog King; Cat and Mouse Partnership; The Story if the Youth Who Went Forth To Learn What Fear Was; The Wolf and the Seven Little Kids; Faithful John; Little Brother and Little Sister; Rapunzel; The Three Little Mean in the Wood; Hansel and Gretel; The Three Snake-Leaves; The White Snake; The Fisherman and His Wife; The Valiant Little Tailor; Cinderella; The Riddle; The Mouse, The Bird, and the Sausage; Mother Holle; The Seven Ravens; Little Red Cap; The Singing Bone; Clever Hans; The Wedding of Mrs. Fox; The Robber Bridergroom; Godfather Death; The Juniper Tree; The Six Swans; Briar Rose (Sleeping Beauty); Little Snow White; Rumpelstiltskin; The Golden Bird; The Dog and the Sparrow; Frederick and Catherine; The Two Brothers; The Queen Bee; The Three Feathers; The Golden Goose; The Twelve Hunters; The Three Sons of Fortune; The Wiof and the Fox; The Fox and His Cousin; The Water Nixie; Brother Lustig; The Fox and the Geese; The Poor Man and the Rich Man; The Raven; The Peasant's Wise Daughter; Stories about Snakes; Hans the Hedgehog; The Three Brothers; Ferdinand the Faithful; One-eye, Two-eyes, and Three-eyes; The Shoes that Were Danced To Pieces; Iron John; The Lambkin and the Fish; The Lord's Animals and the Devil's; The Old Beggar Woman; Odds and Ends; The Sparrow and His Four Children; Snow White and Rose Red; The Wise Servant; The Glass Coffin; The Griffin; The Peasant in Heaven; The Bittern and Hoopoe; The Owl; Death's Messengers; The Spindle, the Shuttle, and the Needle; The Drummer; The Ear of Corn; Old Rinkrank... written/retold by the Brothers' Grimm

The 1800s- late 1930s set books:

• Big Red by Jim Kjelgaard

• The Yearling by Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings

• The Sign of the Beaver by Elizabeth George Speare

• Black Beauty by Anna Sewell

• White Fang by Jack London

• Call of the Wild by Jack London

• A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

• Little House in the Big Woods by Laura Ingalls Wilder

• Farmer Boy by Laura Ingalls Wilder

• Little House on the Prairie by Laura Ingalls Wilder

• On the Banks of Plum Creek by Laura Ingalls Wilder

• By the Shores of Silver Lake by Laura Ingalls Wilder

• The Long Winter by Laura Ingalls Wilder

• Little Town on the Prairie by Laura Ingalls Wilder

• Anne of Green Gables by Lucy Maud Montgomery

• Anne of Avonlea by Lucy Maud Montgomery

• Anne of the Island by Lucy Maud Montgomery

Edgar Allan Poe Works I've Read:

• The Raven; a poem

• Annabel Lee; a poem

• Lenore; a poem

• To Helen; a poem

• The Black Cat; a short story

• The Cask of Amontillado; a short story

• Ligeia; a short story

• The Masque of the Red Death; a short story

• Morella; a short story

• The Pit and the Pendulum; a short story

• The Premature Burial; a short story

• The System of Doctor Tarr and Professor Fether; a short story

• The Tell-Tale Heart; a short story

Oldie But Goldies; Everything Else Thst is Older Than Me That I've Read:

• Winnie-the-Pooh by A. A. Milne

• Alice in Wonderland and Alice Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll

• The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe; Prince Caspian; The Voyage of the Dawn Treader; The Silver Chair; The Horse and His Boy; and The Magician's Nephew by C. S. Lewis

• Charlotte's Web by E. B. White

• The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien

• The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame

• Redwall by Brian Jacques

• Frog and Toad by Arnold Lobel

• The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster

• The Giver by Lois Lowry

• The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams

• The Tale of Despereaux by Kate DiCamillo

• Mr. Popper's Penguins by Richard and Florence Atwater

There is a lot I've probably read but don't remember, but these are the literatures I can remember that are older than me, or were made before I was born, that I have read😊

[shadowmerer]

my favorite thing about playing lenore is whenever she meets someone very old. she went from having a super chill conversation w a druid about how they have a friend who grows mushrooms out of his own flesh to completely freaking out bc they’re 3000 years old.

[lazyroseart]

I've been thinking about Spreaver again.. more specifically the "A fell first and B fell harder" thing

(Btw this purely for my Sparrow Lenore so this isn't for Spreaver in general just wanted to put that out)

For me Lenore fell first and Reaver fell harder. You be asking why? Which I will answer, so Lenore's reasons for catching feelings is a bit complex from how Reaver is with how confident he is plus how openly selfish he is and how alike yet different they are. While Reaver fell harder after awhile once the two actually start having more of a thing between them.

Why she likes his selfishness? It's because she also wants to be selfish but she always felt like she wasn't allowed to have anything from what happened in youth and how the people view her so she has to be selfless because death isn't selfish as it takes everyone. To be honest the only time she is selfish is when Theresa gave Lenore the choices at the end and Lenore choose Love.. She choose Rose and her dog Token over the victims of the Spire.

Okay on to Reaver, so for Reaver it was more a build up as for my version of Spreaver Lenore actually holds characteristics to Her where over time Reaver sees less of Her and more of Lenore as herself and not as reminder of what he lost over 200 years ago. In a way he's somewhat moving on even if he's still an ass.

On a funnier note I think it would be funny if Reaver was sat up late at night and realized he has a romantic interest in Lenore like it's 3am and he just goes "Oh fuck.."

Another note is they view death quite differently as Reaver was afraid of death when he made the deal while Lenore is the opposite she's okay with dying as it doesn't scare her.

[johaerys-writes]

Where Blood Roses Bloom

Fandom: Castlevania

Pairings: Alucard/Trevor Belmont/Sypha, Hector/Lenore

Summary:

After Trevor gets grievously injured by a night creature, he and Sypha return to Dracula's castle to seek Alucard's help. The man they find there, however, is but a shadow of the friend they left behind.

Meanwhile, in far Styria, Hector does his best to survive in the vampires' court, a lamb amidst wolves. Little do the wolves know, the lamb has fangs of its own.

Chapter 9: Keep Your Enemies Close, Your Friends Closer is up! A quick look into Hector’s situation and him getting used to life at the vampires’ castle (on his own terms), and then we hop back to the trio with Alucard’s POV :) 

Read here or on Ao3! Or read from the beginning

The water of the fountain is splashing merrily on the smooth, polished marble. A flock of sparrows is hidden in the branches of a tree nearby, twittering the day away. One of them, a small, dark brown one with splotches of grey, leaves the bough it had been resting on and comes to land on the bench beside him. Hector lifts his eyes from his book, and reaches for the pouch of seeds he always keeps in his pocket. He smiles as he watches the bird pick at the seeds, its clever beady eyes catching the light.

Some days, if Hector pretends hard enough, he can almost believe he’s free.

Almost the entirety of the castle is open and available to him. He can visit any part of it he likes, at any moment of the day, by himself. No one to watch over him, to ask him questions. He can go to the library, the grand hall, the kitchens and the stables. He can go to the gardens, and sit by the fountain with its calmly running waters and read his books with no one to disturb him. He can go to the great balcony of the upper floors and gaze out into the endless stretch of white and dark forest green and the grey of the mountain peaks, with no one to snap or look at him the wrong way. He can do whatever he wants, really.

The ring isn’t even a nuisance anymore. Most of the time, he even forgets it’s there. It doesn’t hurt, and he’s used to the dull thrum it makes against his skin when Lenore or one of the other sisters are near. He’s even grateful that it lets him feel their presence before he turns a corner and bumps into them, especially Carmilla. He’d rather swallow a handful of rusty nails instead of coming face to face with her.

A cold wind blows over the marble expanse of the lower level gardens. The trees here are sparse, and the space is filled with statues, fountains and small ponds. Wrapped up in his lush white fur coat, Hector can hardly feel the northern wind's bite. He’s grateful for that too; Hector has never much liked the cold. He never really liked the heat either, certainly not the boiling hot summers of his homeland. Those were a torture for him, but when he first came to Wallachia and his toes almost froze in his boots within the first few days, he realised just how much he missed those warmer days.

He doesn’t miss them all that much now. The castle is heated artificially with large pipes that run throughout the entire structure, and the interior is always comfortable warm. Even the floors are warm, warm enough for him to walk barefoot around his own quarters. He definitely likes that.

Hector takes in a deep breath, letting the sun warm him. His days are quiet; dull, even. He looks at the castle that looms above him and he could almost say he's accustomed to it, that it feels like home, if he squints hard enough.  

And Hector does squint. He’ll squint as hard as it takes, if that’s what it's required for everyone around him to believe that he’s the perfect, quiet, docile little pet.

He snaps the book closed and stands up. Discreetly, he reaches into his pocket, feeling for the small, metal coins he's inscribed with runes of his own design; the best he’s ever made. He’s poured all of his skill into them, during those long hours at the forge, while he pretends to work at his forge-hammer. It’s nowhere near finished, and it won’t be for a while yet, not while he can get away with it. The recipes for the billets he requests from the vampire forgers are tweaked just so to make them impossible to work with, but he has taken care not to make that too noticeable. The metal crumbles when he strikes it, rendering it useless for an artifact like a forge-hammer, but not so for his handy little coins.

He’s made one for everything; in truth, he’s quite proud of himself. There are runes for summoning spirits, for magical barriers, for sapping the strength of an enemy, turning their bones into dust. Some of those magics he hasn't used in years; while inventive, most of those runes are not strong enough to kill someone, especially a vampire, but they’re enough to buy him time. He’s not even sure when or what he will use them for, but it makes him feel somewhat better to know he can defend himself, should the need arise. If the vampire sisters find them on him he’s as good as dead, but at least he will get to die on his own terms.

Hector makes his way through the gardens, past the main square, towards the interior of the castle. He’s noted every exit, every possible means of escape. He knows, for instance, that behind the wall of the corridor that connects the yard to the main hall, there’s a passage that’s used for the guards, and that leads to the stables, and from there to the main exit. Hector notices a small crack in the stone, little wider than a finger. Looking discreetly over his shoulder, he reaches into his bag and pulls out a small coin, slips it in the gap. Then, he walks away at the same unhurried pace. A quick spell at a time of need, and the entire wall will shatter, or a big part of it, opening the way for him or stopping a pursuer.

Hector’s left countless such trinkets behind, in every possible place he could, and for every possible use; given time, this castle will be but a house of cards in the vampire sisters’ hands, ready to collapse.

A pair of guards walk past him, wearing the vampire sisters’ colours. They give him a wide berth, and Hector does, too. Those are their human guards, employed to walk the grounds when the vampire guards are asleep, but they’re no less wary of him than the vampires are. They don’t know what to make of him and the monsters they know he can create. He repulses them; Hector knows that. Most people he’s ever met were disgusted by him, thought him mad or dangerous, but that never really made much difference to him. People, vampire and human both, disgust him too.

He inclines his head to them respectfully as he passes, and so do they. Each goes his own way, carefully avoiding the other.  

~

His forge is pleasantly warm when he steps in, enough for him to sweat a little under his fur coat. He takes it off and sets it on the peg by the door, then walks to his work table. New steel alloy ingots are waiting for him in a pile next to the table; Hector picks one up, dips his brush in the paint he uses to draw the runes on them. He waits for it to warm on the hot coals of the brazier, then strikes it with his work hammer. It shatters, as expected, but the pieces are large enough for him to work something out of them. A trap, perhaps, or a magical cage. He’ll figure something out.

He brings the piece up to his eyes and studies it in the light. The veins of the metal shimmer when the sunlight falls on them. Yes, he can make something great out of this. He just needs to decide on what.

The hours pass, the sun glides across the sky and towards the west without him realising it. His work has always absorbed him far too much to allow his attention to be diverted elsewhere. His forge, his creations; this is what he was born to do. Once, it was all he ever did, all that ever mattered to him. He misses those times. Hector is a different man altogether when he works. As his hammer strikes steel and sparks fly, as his magic is embedded on the lifeless piece of metal or flesh and imbues it with power, he feels like himself again. If only for a moment.

So focused is he on his task, that he doesn’t even notice Lenore walking in.

His heart lurches when he glances up and sees her standing by the door, watching him. She is wearing a black velvet dress, the bodice cinched tight, hugging the curve of her waist. The light grey fur mantle that’s thrown over her shoulders highlights her pale skin, and a velvet choker with a blood red ruby hugs her slender throat. Her heart-shaped, raspberry coloured lips part ever so slightly in a small intake of breath when their gazes meet.

It takes a quick moment for Hector’s appreciation for her appearance to be overcome by the unease her presence sparks within him; the two seem to be tied together at times, inextricably linked. He hates to acknowledge it, but it’s true: despite everything she’s done, despite how cruel she can and has been, Lenore is still a beautiful woman. His treacherous mind rarely fails to inform him of the fact.

He clears his throat and pushes such thoughts as far away as he can. “What can I do for you, Lenore?” he asks, rather briskly.

She smiles; a demure little smile. “That depends. What are you doing?” She walks into the forge, coming to sit on the chair by the window.

He’s lucky that at the moment she walked in he had just finished one of his coins, and it was now resting in his pocket. The billet before him is orange and smouldering, held securely in his pincer. “I’m working on my hammer.” He strikes the billet, and it shatters. “Or, at least, trying to.”

Lenore sighs, resting her elbow on the armrest, her cheek on her fist. “Are the blacksmiths still not following your specifications?”

“Apparently. Never thought that reading the ingredients off of a list and then mixing them together would prove that much of a challenge for people who have probably been doing the exact thing for centuries. But there you have it.” He moves the crumbling remains of the ingot back in the stack, and reaches for another. He can probably do something with it later, after she’s gone. “You didn't answer my question. What can I do for you?”

He doesn’t turn to look at her as he dips his brush in the paint pot, but he can feel her eyes on him. He can also hear the smile on her lips as she takes in a breath.

“Can you move a little to the side?” she says, amusement curling the edges of her voice. “I can’t see your face from this angle as you work, and it’s such a shame. Your profile is quite lovely.”

A shiver slithers up his spine at her teasing, flirting tone. He grits his teeth, turning his back to her as he walks to the glowing coals of the forge to place the ingot. “I’m busy, Lenore.”

“I know. I can see.” The fabric of her dress whispers as she stands up, and walks up to him. Her gloved hands touch the edges of the forge table, her fingers caressing the stark line. “I like watching you work.”

“Right.”

She laughs at the frown that he tries —very hard— to keep on his face. “Is that so wrong? It’s quite the sight.” She leans forward, gazing up at him through her lashes. “I rather like the way you grip that hammer of yours.”

Hector darts a shocked glance at her, then immediately looks away. He scowls, but can’t help the warmth that creeps up his cheeks. He’s sure it hasn’t slipped Lenore’s attention either.

“Lenore,” he starts, ready to reprimand her, “I told you—”

“I know, I know,” she says, straightening. “You’re busy. You said. I’m sorry.” She sighs again and glides away from him, towards the wide windows. Hector looks up from his work, his eyes following the soft motion of the dark red cascades of her hair as she moves. She rests her forehead against the glass, gazing out into the snowy valley below. “Go on with your work,” she says with a casual wave. “I’ll be quiet.”

True to her word, she stays silent for a considerable time after. The billet Hector placed in the fire is now bright orange and ready to use. Hector brings it back to the table, willing himself to ignore Lenore’s presence in the room. The hammer rings against the steel, and the billet breaks, predictably.

“If you’re bored and looking for a way to pass the time, you can just say so,” he tells her. “No reason to dance around the matter.”

He’s not quite sure why he’s initiating conversation once more. The last thing he wants is to talk with her, to have her attention on him. It’s uncomfortable; it makes him uneasy.

At least, that’s what he tells himself. The truth of the matter is… somewhat different.

Hector can’t really pinpoint the time or the place when it started to change, but it has. His days are usually long, dull, and quiet now. Too quiet. Other than Lenore, no one ever really talks to him in this castle. Perhaps, at some point, while he was trying so hard to get used to the new way of things in order to survive, he actually did. Now, he almost —almost— feels a little relieved whenever Lenore seeks out his company. It’s nice to speak to someone else and not get lost in his own thoughts, if only for a short while; if only for the sake of not losing his sanity. Talking with Lenore keeps him sharp, on his toes, even if he has to search for the poison amidst her banter and her flirting remarks, for the dagger hidden in the roses. Especially then.

There doesn’t seem to be one, right now. Lenore simply rolls her eyes and pouts, like a little girl. “Fine, you caught me out. I’m bored. Terribly so.” She turns her body to face him, leaning against the glass. “Morana and Striga have been gone for weeks, so no councils to attend. I’ve taken over some of Morana’s administrative work while she’s gone, but I’m done for the day. As for my duties… well, let’s just say that a big part of it involves sending letters and waiting for the replies. Now’s the waiting part.” She tilts her head to the side, the edges of her lips curling in a smile. “Indulge me?”

Hector swallows thickly. He sets the hammer down and reaches for the cloth he keeps close to his table to wipe his hands. “Very well. I’m almost finished with my work for the day, but you can stay here to watch if you’d like.”

“Thank you,” she breathes, and Hector thinks he can spot a pink flush climbing up her cheekbones. It could be a trick of the light, though. The forge is getting quite dark now that the sun has set. “What will you do after your work is done?”

“I was thinking of retreating to my room. I’ve had a long day.”

She quirks a brow. “A long day of gripping your hammer?”

Hector laughs, and the sound startles him. He can’t remember the last time he laughed. “Working on it, actually. But yes, gripping it, too.”

Lenore beams at him, and this time her blush brightens up her otherwise pale countenance. She takes a small step forward, her eyes fixed on his. “Walk with me.”

Hector blinks. “What?”

“After you’re done with your work. Walk with me.”

“I…” Hector breathes slowly, unsure what to say. It’s been a while since the two of them have taken a nightly stroll around the palace. The last time they did so, he was wearing a collar with a chain attached, the end of which had rested securely in Lenore’s hand.

He bristles at the memories— they are not ones he often likes to revisit.

“Do I have a say in the matter?” he asks flatly.

Lenore’s eyes widen just a touch, but she swiftly regains her composure. “Of course you do. You’re free to do as you please. Perhaps I misspoke.” She links her hands on her lap, looking up at him through her long, curved lashes. Hector doesn’t like to admit it, but he likes the way her eyes tilt downwards, giving her a soft, sleepy look.

“Hector,” Lenore says slowly, “would you like to go for a walk with me later?”

He should say no. He knows he should. He should keep his distance and stay as far away from the vampire sisters as he can, especially Lenore. They’ve done enough to him; he can’t grant them openings to do more. He knows this.

“Alright,” he says, before he can stop himself. “We can go for a walk. A short one.”

It’s been so long since he’s had a decent conversation with someone. Even if that someone is Lenore. The temptation is too strong to ignore.

Lenore’s smile is warm and slow-spreading, like a sunset. She inclines her head in gratitude. “Thank you,” she says, and her voice is smooth like silk.

Hector nods sharply, then returns to his work, ignoring the slight tremor in his hands. He’s nervous already about the two of them spending time alone, like before, like nothing’s happened, but he forces himself to focus on the ingot on his table. Lenore falls quiet, letting him work.

He can use this to his advantage. He can use Lenore’s interest in him for leverage, for information, for security, as she has done to him. Hector is not the weak puppy the sisters believe him to be, but it doesn’t hurt for them to continue thinking so. Besides, it is always wise to keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. Isn’t that what people say?

Hector grips his hammer tightly, and strikes.

***

The light that slithers through the gaps in the shifting canopy of leaves above him is warm when it falls on Adrian’s skin.

The days are warmer now, warmer than they have been. There is still a layer of snow covering the ground, and icicles linger on frozen boughs and the flat rocks by the river, but the sun is shining brightly overhead. The long Wallachian winter is slowly coming to its end.

Adrian walks through the winding forest paths, his basket heavy with berries, wild vegetables growing in patches in the shade beneath the centuries-old trees, the catch of the day. A brisk breeze blows, combing through his hair, and he takes a deep breath. It tastes fresh, and sweet.

The tall, stark peaks of the towers of his father’s castle loom right ahead. It is an imposing sight, made to keep enemies far, and to make friends think twice about betraying the power that lies within. It is a show of strength, of skill, of science, but most of all, a warning.

A warning that his mother never heeded.

Adrian smiles a little at that as he walks, but there is a sort of sadness, tugging at his heart. His steps take him past the ruins of the Belmont hold, and he thinks of Belmont, and everything he’s lost, everything they’ve both lost: family, home, hope. He thinks of Sypha, too, how she's never had a home, how her home has always been people. Her people, and those left months ago. He thinks of all the times ignorant people had chased them away, threatened and bullied them, blamed them for all of their lands' wrongs, while they Speakers were only trying to help.

There have been times when it all seemed futile, when any sane person would have stopped fighting long before, yet they all kept going. It surprises him to realise, more with each day, how alike they are. Perhaps they’re all just a little mad. Adrian almost laughs at how much consolation the thought brings.

He pauses to glance at the ruins, and his eye catches a shock of dark red amidst the collapsed walls and depressed alcoves; a blood rose bush, the blossoms shyly opening, basking in the winter sun. It looks so small and fragile and out of place, and he wonders how he didn’t notice it before. He reaches out and plucks a single flower, and one of the thorns catches in his finger and draws blood, but the pain is short lived. The rose is still young, the crimson petals of its bud soft to the touch. His mother’s favourites. It’s been too long since they graced the vase on the kitchen table, or the one on the windowsill of her old study.

Perhaps it's time they did just that, now.

He brings it up to his nose, takes a breath of its scent, and continues on his way.

The high entrance of the castle is within view now, and he walks unhurriedly towards it. The stakes by each side of the wide stone steps are a grim sight, but Adrian has passed by them so many times that they almost blend into the periphery of his vision now. Almost. There are always things to be done, and he never lingers by the entrance for long anyway; they’re easy to ignore.

The interior of the castle is warmer than outside, yet not by much. Adrian thinks he should really work on repairing his father’s heating system, as well as parts of the plumbing system that was destroyed when the castle was last moved. There is an endless list of things to be fixed —collapsed walls, shattered windows, broken furniture, seared carpets and bloodstains— but he thinks it’s better to tackle things one at a time.

First: lunch.

Sypha and Belmont have each gone to take care of business when they all parted after breakfast; and by business, Sypha meant scouring the upstairs library, and Belmont looking into every room, nook and cranny that the vampire generals had once occupied in search of weapons, information, materials, and —Adrian could bet on it— booze. That man has a special talent for sniffing out the best vintage wherever they happen to be, even if that place was Adrian’s own house. And one that, admittedly, he has refrained from exploring too much all the while he’s been there. Dracula’s war and the people —creatures, rather— that have walked these halls by his leave is still an acidic memory.

But it will get better, Adrian thinks. With time.

It’s been long, too long since he’s allowed himself to have such thoughts, to make plans for the future. It feels odd, to be sure, but it is a welcome change. His spirits have been brighter than they’ve been in… he can’t even pinpoint the time. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this light. It’s like an impossible weight has been lifted from his shoulders, and while the shadows that linger are never too far, they’re softer now. Quieter. The demons in the dark are not quite as menacing.

Sypha’s relentless optimism and Belmont’s terrible sense of humour are catching, perhaps. Since the night that he returned to the castle, several days before, the three of them have fallen into a routine. It's all been going... rather well, since Sypha and Belmont decided to stay there. With him. They spend time together now. They have their meals together, read books and talk for hours on end, bickering. Even that is pleasant, even that is one of the things about them he’s missed. Their conversations often devolve into horrible jokes and dreams and impossible plans, most of them utterly ridiculous, but Adrian finds himself participating all the same.

He likes it. He likes being around them, watching them, listening to them. When Sypha laughs and her head tilts back, exposing the smooth column of her throat; when Belmont rolls his eyes and that rosy flush creeps up his cheeks, and his chuckle comes muffled from within his cup, it might just be the most wonderful sight and sound in the world, Adrian thinks.  

He makes his way through the large hall towards the kitchen. His bootsteps echo through the empty corridor, and for once he doesn’t feel the need to block the silence out. He’s almost to the kitchen door, can feel the warmth radiating from the room beyond, when a swishing sound coming from the training room stops him.

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

~

“You’re at it again, I see,” he tells Belmont, leaning against the doorframe of the circular training room. The basket carrying all the food he’s gathered is by his feet, his arms are crossed before his chest as he watches Belmont flowing through the practiced motions. It’s been days since his wound has reopened, and it’s almost fully healed now, his attacks very close to their full strength. “Didn’t find the booze you were looking for, so you’re taking out your frustration on the training dummies?”

Belmont spins on his heel to face him, his chest heaving with every breath. His tunic is tossed carelessly to the side, and the linen undershirt he wears is clinging to the damp skin between his shoulder blades.

“Perhaps I found what I was looking for, and this is my way of celebrating. What about you? Back so soon? I thought it would take you longer to gather all those berries.” He grins, pushing his bangs from his face. “Did you miss me so much you couldn’t stay away?” he asks with a cunning smile.

Adrian huffs and shakes his head, glancing away from him. Belmont always does that, always teases and prods him in a way that he’s most sure to get a reaction. And he does get it most of the time; that’s the worst thing about it.

He uncrosses his arms and takes a step in the room, slowly walking by the many racks of weapons. “I simply happened to be passing by, and heard you huffing and puffing like a beast of burden. Naturally, I had to see for myself that you wouldn’t injure yourself with that sword.”

“Injure myself?” Belmont snorts, moving through his drills. An upward slash, a stab, a cut to the side, lightning fast. Elegant, but brutally efficient. Belmont isn’t one for flourishes and superfluous movements. “Let me remind you that I was practically born with a sword in hand. I could cut you in pieces just by looking at you.”

“Yes, but you wouldn’t do that, would you?” Adrian tilts his head to the side with an amused smile.

Belmont barks a laugh, dropping his sword and wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his sleeve. “No, I probably wouldn’t. At least not until you make that blueberry pie you promised.”

Adrian rolls his eyes and chuckles. Yes, it's always been like this between them, bickering and tossing mild insults about. Yet now— now it’s not quite as abrasive as usual. It isn’t as if trying to cut each other open with words anymore. It’s kinder, more well-meaning. Almost… fond.

The thought sends a roll of warmth through him, and something else; something he can't quite explain. He doesn’t like the way Belmont’s presence makes his heart race, his guts twist into impossible loops. Ever since that night, at the clearing, when they came back to the castle, when Adrian opened up to them, told them what really happened, something changed. No one’s really brought the subject up again, but Adrian can feel the ripples of it still. Beneath their easy, effortless companionship, there’s a tension in the air, like a string, ready to snap. And Adrian wants to talk about it, he wants to bring the matter up, simply to see what either of them will do, but he hasn’t actually worked up the courage yet. He sometimes thinks he catches Sypha gazing at him before she hastily glances away, and Belmont’s jokes are not nearly as terrible and scathing as usual, but Adrian doesn’t know what to make of that. If there’s anything to make of it at all.  

“Are you just going to keep staring at me, or are you actually going to fight me?”

Adrian blinks at Belmont, then at the sword he’s holding out for him to take, hilt first. There’s a smile on Belmont’s lips, and a teasing challenge in his gaze, but there’s also affection and… something more. A flash of heat, that makes Adrian’s blood sizzle in his veins, before he can stop it.

Yes. Something changed that night between them. Adrian can’t quite put a finger on it, but he’s drawn to it all the same. Drawn to him.  

He takes the sword from Belmont’s hands with a smug smile. “I wouldn’t go so far as to call it a ‘fight’. You still have a long way to go before you can actually challenge me. But I promise to go easy on you.”

“Oh, please do. I would hate to see you breaking your back just trying to get close to me.” Adrian rolls his eyes as he gets into position, and Belmont grins. “I’ll even let you go first. See? That’s how gallant I am.”

“Please. Who lost their gallantry so you could find it? It isn’t really something you can pick up from the side of the road, like most of your belongings.” Adrian can’t help the satisfied grin that widens his lips when he lunges forward and slashes, his blade colliding with Belmont’s. It sends a high-pitched clang ringing through the room, reverberating amidst the many naked blades. Belmont grins back, pushing him away.

“You’d be surprised how many things I’ve found by the side of the road. Or under the road. You, for one.” He laughs as he swirls, the steel of his blade hissing as it attacks him, up, down, and up again. Adrian counters his movements, though Belmont’s attacks aren’t easy to anticipate. A trick of the trade, no doubt, passed down through generations of Belmont hunters— when mismatched in physical strength and agility, always lean into the element of surprise, keep your opponent on their toes. Not a bad tactic to keep in mind. “If it weren’t for me, you would still be sleeping your beauty sleep under Gresit.”

“My God, you still think you did that.” Adrian blocks an attack that would have surely ripped his heart out had Belmont and he been duelling in earnest, then ducks and rolls out of the way, landing on soundless feet behind him. He could teleport, he supposes, but he doesn’t quite feel like doing that now. Belmont is always whinging about him cheating, so he’d rather beat him in a one-to-one fight this time.

“You know; I envy you sometimes, Belmont.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.” The tip of Adrian’s sword draws small circles beside him as he flexes his wrist. “I wonder what it’s like to be so out of touch with reality. It must be rather lovely.”

Belmont laughs and shakes his head. “You arrogant bastard.” With a quick, agile stride Belmont’s practically on him, the sharpened edge of his sword catching the light streaming through the window. Adrian counters at the very last minute, brushing the blade to the side. “How do you come up with all those come-backs, hm?”

Adrian flashes him a smile, his pulse beating wildly in his throat. He slashes, and slashes again, slowly backing Belmont into a corner. “I’ve learned from the very best,” he says, bringing his sword down towards his shoulder from an angle that Belmont cannot possibly block. He does, miraculously, though there’s nowhere left from him to go now. He’s backed against the wall, the blades trembling between them. One swift movement from Adrian, and he’s about to be the victor of this match.

Yet, despite his earlier boasts, Belmont doesn’t seem to be in the least frustrated by this turn of events. His features are only a little twisted by the effort of blocking Adrian’s sword, a few sweat-soaked strands clinging to his brow, his eyes fixed unrelenting on Adrian’s, and he smiles. “You flatter me,” he says, a touch strained but no less smug. “I wish I could say the same for you.”

“You cannot?” Adrian leans closer ever so slightly, as if in challenge. From this close, he can smell the musk of his skin, the faint, sweet scent of brandy on his breath. “All evidence points to the contrary. You have been bested once again, Belmont. No shame in admitting it.”

“I’ll only be bested when I’m dead, Alucard,” Belmont grins, a drop of sweat arcing down his cheek. His hand trembles, his wide, triumphant smile slipping sideways.

Adrian glances down, where their blades meet, then back up to Belmont’s eyes. “Are you quite sure about that?”

“Yep. Perfectly certain.” Belmont quirks a brow. “What? Aren’t you going to kiss me this time? You might have to, if you’re after changing my mind about it.”

Adrian’s eyes widen before he can control himself. The same sort of heat flashes in Belmont’s eyes, and a shiver slithers down Adrian’s spine, like slicked lightning.

“I do not want to kiss you,” Adrian says, though his eyes that fall to Belmont’s lips as if by instinct betray his confident words.

Belmont smiles again, a slow spreading smile that makes Adrian feel like he’s transparent, an open book. Adrian thinks he can see Belmont’s pulse flutter in his throat as he says, “Are you sure about that?”

Adrian’s tongue runs over his lips. He swallows thickly, scrambling for words, and finds none. Belmont’s gaze on him makes him dizzy. It makes him weak. He doesn’t quite know what he’ll do, what he’s capable of doing, if it stays on him for much longer.

He takes a sharp breath, preparing to draw back, when his ears prick up at the whisper of fabric from the far end of the room. He breaks eye-contact with Belmont to glance in that direction, and sees Sypha watching them from the door, leaning against the door frame. She straightens when both their gazes fall on her.

“Oh— please, do go on. Don’t let me interrupt. Just pretend I’m not here.” She flashes them a bright smile, biting her lip, then waves cheerfully. “Go on, then! You were saying, Alucard?”

“Nothing. I wasn’t saying anything.” Adrian’s pulse is thumping in his throat as he takes a step back, releasing Belmont and letting his sword fall. “What— uh, what are you doing here?”

“Stopping you two from ripping each other’s clothes off, evidently,” she mutters with a sly smile, and Adrian blanches. She picks at the fabric of her skirts, lifting the hem. “These robes make far too much noise.”

Belmont flushes, slanting Adrian a timid look before looking back at Sypha. “We were absolutely, positively not doing that. Definitely not.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” She grins wickedly, hands at her hips. “It did look this way from where I was standing. It was actually fascinating. So, what are you waiting for? Get back into position, I want to know what happens next.”

“Good God, woman,” Belmont grumbles, stalking to the weapons rack to set his sword down, then picks up his tunic.

“What? I’m only pointing out the obvious.” She winks at Adrian, and his stomach tightens even more. If the earth split open and swallowed him right then, he would die a happy man.

She lets out a disappointed little sigh as she watches Belmont pull on his tunic with rough, quick movements. “Oh, well. I guess the show’s truly over. Poor me.”

“Sypha—” Belmont growls but she cuts him off with a wave that’s meant to be vaguely appeasing.

“Fine, fine, I’ll stop,” she says. “If that is how you want it. We’ll all just pretend you weren’t talking about your ‘swords’ just now and get on with our day, yes?” She turns around and walks out the door, humming a merry tune, leaving Adrian and Belmont standing in embarrassed silence.

Adrian clears his throat. “Should we, um…” He nods towards the door.

“After you,” Belmont says hastily, securing the last few buttons of his tunic, then gestures for him to walk ahead. His features are utterly serious, but Adrian thinks he can spot his ears turning bright red under his mop of dark brown hair.

~

The incident is swiftly forgotten — or, at least, Adrian pretends it is so— as they move to the kitchen to prepare their meal. He steams the fish he caught in a basket he’s made himself from reeds he found near the river, while Sypha chops and roasts the vegetables, and Belmont pretends to help when, in truth, he’s just making awful commentary that has them both rolling their eyes.

“Hey, Alucard,” he says, peering over Adrian’s shoulder as he’s cleaning a head of wild garlic he found today, “how does garlic work with you vampires, anyway? Does it scare you?”

Adrian lets out a long-suffering sigh. “No one is scared of ‘garlic’, Belmont. I’m surprised you even have to ask— wait. No. No, I’m not. If anyone were to ask that sort of question, I’m quite sure it would be you.”

“Why do people hang garlic over their front doors, then, if it doesn’t scare the vampires away?” Belmont continues, undeterred.

“The scent is repulsive to vampires. They can’t stand to be in its presence. Or so the tales go.” He shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant while Belmont is looming over him. “I’ve yet to see it in action.”

“Is it not repulsive to you?”

“No, not really. If I eat a lot of it, it gives me mild headaches, but that’s about it.”

“Hm.” Belmont moves closer sniffing at the garlic over Adrian’s shoulder. “Now that I think about it, it’s giving me mild headaches, too.”

“Perhaps a Belmont humped a vampire at some point in time,” Adrian says pleasantly, chopping the garlic head down the middle. “Or a wraith. Or a certain species of goblin that lives in the mountains close to Arges. And you are, possibly, the product of this happy union.”

Belmont scrunches his nose and draws back, while a soft chuckle comes from Sypha’s direction. “Is there a point to all your questions, or are you planning on actually helping?” she asks.

“I have helped,” Belmont says indignantly. “I found the wine, didn’t I?”

“Yes, and proceeded to drink a third of the bottle while you were at it.”

“I was taste-testing,” he rolls his eyes, picking up his half full glass and bringing it to his lips. “You’ll be singing my praises once you try it, mark my words.”

“I’m sure we will,” Sypha says, turning to smile at Adrian. The warmth in her gaze is unmistakable, and Adrian can’t help but smile back.

Adrian still can’t believe it at times, that the three of them are there, together, laughing and jesting as if nothing bad has ever happened. It’s like a bubble of stillness, of comfort; it’s as if it’s just them in the world, and everything that's taken place over the past few months is a distant dream. It is moments such as these, when Sypha laughs and Belmont grumbles, only pretending to be cross, that Adrian is afraid that if he so much as breathes, the bubble will pop, the dream will shatter, and he will wake up again, alone.

Sypha’s hand on his forearm, light and gentle, stirs him from his thoughts. “The food is ready now, I think,” she says softly. “You two set the table while I finish up here.”

~

“What did I tell you? That wine was perfect, wasn’t it?” Belmont says, tossing back the remainder of his drink.

Adrian swirls the wine in his glass with casual disinterest, watches as the golden liquid catches the light. “Yes, it was quite lovely. If one likes the taste of vinegar.”

Belmont, to Adrian’s surprise, doesn’t rise to the barb. He laughs instead, then leans over the table to pluck the glass from Adrian’s fingers, bringing it up to his lips.

Adrian raises an eyebrow at that. “I was going to drink that.”

“When? Before or after whining about how bad it is?” He grins his infuriating grin, his laughing eyes watching him over the rim of the glass. “I’m doing you a favour. I can’t well let our precious host drink vinegar, now, can I?”

Adrian rolls his eyes and stands up, gathering the plates and returning them to the sink. Anything to hide the warmth that he can feel stirring within him with the look in Belmont’s eyes. Sypha, too, is watching them, and her full, rosy lips are curled in a smile that Adrian finds it very hard to take his eyes off of.

They both rise after he is done, walking out of the kitchen with him. For a moment, Adrian wonders what he should do; should he invite them to his room for something to drink? Should he leave them to spend some time alone? Would it appear as if he is imposing if he asks to join them in whatever they plan to do next? Though the last few days have eased them into an easy, comfortable co-existence, he’s still not sure how much is too much.

Yet, before he can say anything, Sypha takes his hand.

“Alucard,” she says, and there’s something formal about the way she says it. Belmont is beside her, watching her carefully.

Adrian straightens, curiously returning her gaze. “Sypha.”

“There is… something I want us to do. If you don’t mind.”

“What is it?”

She opens her mouth, then seems to change her mind. She glances up at Belmont, who gives her a tiny nod.

“I think it’s better if we simply go there,” Belmont says knowingly.

Adrian is confused, but tries not to let that show as he follows them through the castle. With every step they take, though, and which takes them closer and closer to the main entrance, he thinks he knows where they’re going.

The tall doors peel apart slowly when Belmont pushes them open, and then they’re all standing at the top of the stone steps. The chill wind blows at them, ruffling the fabric of Sypha’s robes, combing through her hair. She looks down, at the stakes, and her gaze darkens.

“I think,” she says, turning to him, “that it is time.”

The warmth that had suffused him only a moment before slowly dissipates, but Sypha's fingers that thread lightly through his own calm his rapidly beating heart, pushes down the wave of disgust and bitterness that rises in his throat. Adrian takes a deep, slow breath, making himself look at the bodies for the first time since he’s put them there. He is shocked at how little of them remains; the darkened skin clings to their bones, and their countenances bear mere traces of similarity to their once living selves. The white fabric of their nightclothes has turned grey, the blood that once stood so stark against it barely visible now.

For weeks, ever since Adrian dragged their lifeless bodies out into the cold and the snow, he’s tried his best not to think of them at all, to forget about it all, put it behind him for good. In the rare moments he did allow himself to think, he wondered what it would feel like if he looked at them, really looked at them. He thought he would have felt that same anger and horror that had taken over him back then. But now, he just feels… empty. Like those beings have nothing to do with him at all anymore, like it was someone else that killed and staked them, though he knows he should know better.

He did this. And now, he will undo it.

“Yes,” he whispers, so softly he hardly hears himself. “It is time.”

~ 

Thank you so much for reading! Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated. If you’ve enjoyed this chapter, I’d love to hear your thoughts! :)

[carters-coffee]

Characters and ships you can ask for

Remember headcanons only

No NSFW for male characters

Miscellaneous (Characters who are the only one I write for from their whole movie)

Clair Spivet

Eudoria Holmes

Jenny Hill

Madame Thenardier

Margaret (The Crown; Helena)

Marla Singer

Red Harrington

Susan Ivey

Grace Augustine

Captain Jack Sparrow

Carol Aird (I'll do Carol/Therese too but not Therese/reader)

Dee Dee Allen

Jean Milburn

Cinderella 2015

Fairy Godmother

Wicked Stepmother

Alice in Wonderland

Iracebeth of Crims

Mirana of Mamorael

Tarrant Hightopp

Dark Shadows 2012

Julia Hoffman

Elizabeth Collins Stoddard

Angelique Bouchard

Victoria Winters

Barnabas Collins

-Julia/Elizabeth; Julia/Vicky; Julia/Angelique; Elizabeth/Angelique

Sweeney Todd

Nellie Lovett

Lucy Barker

Sweeney Todd

-Nellie/Lucy

Ocean's 8

Rose Weil

Daphne Kluger

Lou Miller

Nineball

- Rose/Lou; Rose/Daphne

Peaky Blinders

Polly Gray

Thomas Shelby

Alfie Solomons

American Horror Story

Constance Langdon

Lana Winters

Elsa Mars

Desiree Dupree

Alien Franchise

Ellen Ripley

Ripley 8

Annalee Call

- Ripley/Call

Zombieland

Columbus

Tallahassee

Wichita

Ratched

Gwendolyn Briggs

Lenore Osgood

Resident Evil

Alcina Dimitrescu

Dimitrescu Daughters

Donna Beneveinto

Karl Heisenberg

[kcrnsteinn]

this is a starter for @vampiraemogostosax !!

Fazer negócios com Carmilla não era algo fácil, para convencê-la a apossar-se de um item, ou até mesmo de apenas fazê-la querer juntar-se a alguma causa era necessário muita conversa; conversa esta que precisava mostrar muitas vantagens para o lado dela, senão, nada feito. Naquela tarde, realizada mais um de seus papéis como vice-prefeita, e já estava escutando sobre a nova ONG da cidade que ajudava as crianças do orfanato por alguns minutos quando precisou levantar a mão para cortar a conversa. “Já ouvi o necessário. A prefeitura vai sim ajudar a ONG, os detalhes de valores serão encaminhados mais tarde.”, e então, a tonalidade de seu olhar mudou. “Mas eu posso ajudar com um pouco, contato que ainda mantenhamos o acordo de que eu possa realizar as minhas visitas mensais ao orfanato e conversar com algumas garotas.”, era assim que ela conseguia a maioria das meninas que estavam na Red Sparrow. “Dou-lhe uma, dou-lhe duas, dou-lhe três.”, contou e no último segundo, a pessoa aceitou. Com um sorriso nos lábios e um aperto de mão, observou-a se afastar, e então virou-se para Lenore, quem escolhera para ser sua companhia naquela tarde. “Viu só? Um olhar ameaçador consegue maravilhas.”, não deixou de rir um pouco. “Quase tanto quanto seu olhar angelical.”

[sayruq]

When it comes to all of those ASOIAF theories about certain character’s “true identities”, which ones do you believe are true? For example, that the “Grave Digger” on the Quiet Isle is actually Sandor. Etc. Or even characters that have never been discussed in theories but that you headcanon as being secretly someone else?

the only one that comes to mind is the hound. i used to like howland reed= the high sparrow, lenore = ashara dayne, etc. i think daario = euron is hilarious.