#Belmont Bar

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Trevor Belmont x Chubby! Female Reader NSFW HC: 

TW: Explicit Sexual Content, Minors DNI

Trevor being seemingly distant and restrained upon seeing your naked body until you’re undressing in your inn’s room when he stares at you with such intensity and lust that you feel you could melt right there on the spot. 

Trevor being almost afraid to touch you, his large calloused hands tentatively reaching out to caress your soft, supple flesh, doing his best not to be overcome by his desire for you. 

Trevor pouncing on you, once the dam finally breaks after you tell him you do, in fact, want him that way. 

Trevor groping every inch of your soft body as he kisses you. Sloppily. Hungrily. It’s so filthy and raw and you love it. 

The arms that beat vandals and kill monsters hoist your plump ass up. Your legs tightly wrapping around his waist as he carries you securely, safely bringing you to the bed and placing you gently down. 

His stubbled chin scratching your hot soft supple skin as he kisses his way down from your mouth to your neck, to your chubby stomach- all the way down to the tops of your thick thighs. 

Trevor teasing you by kissing even further past your wetness to your knees to your calves to your feet. Him pausing to run strong circles on the soles of your feet with his thumbs, looking at you with those gorgeous blue eyes of his, silently asking permission to taste you. 

You nodding in anticipation, watching as he places your leg back down before crawling back up your body to the apex of your thighs. Your breath hitching when he first slides a finger down your wet slit. 

Your heart and eyes swelling up when he finally spreads your lips apart and sighs at the gorgeous sight of your full sex on display for him. 

Trevor whispering just how beautiful you are to him as he lowers his head down, placing a kiss on your stomach, then on your mound before descending on your pussy like a man starved. 

Trevor licking and sucking at your core with such ferocity, you’re immediately bucking your hips up into his hot warm mouth, unable to stop the whimpers that escape your mouth. 

Trevor feeling your wriggling and hearing your sounds, starting to release deep moans of his own, the vibrations feeling heavenly on your clit. 

You getting closer and closer to your peak, begging Trevor to stop, tugging him by his hair away from you, it taking all the discipline in your being. You breathlessly telling him you want to finish with his cock inside you. 

Trevor eagerly shedding his clothes- his weapons and belts, his shirt, and finally his slacks and undergarments. Him climbing over you, holding your face in both hands, kissing you so deeply and fiercely again you can’t help but inhale and melt into him. 

You being impatient, asking him to please, please just fill you up already. Trevor moaning, practically cumming already from hearing the way you beg for his cock inside you. 

Him pumping his erection a few times before lining the tip up with your entrance, ever so slowly pushing the head in. 

You sucking in a breath as you feel the wide girth breech you, relishing the initial stretch his cock brings. 

Trevor’s thighs shaking as he continues to push gradually into you, using all his restraint so as not to ram his cock into you as fast and as deep as it will go until you’re screaming his name, crying out underneath him. 

You assuring him you’re ok, that you can take it, please. Trevor picking up the pace, finding a medium-paced rhythm that leaves you breathless, yet also wanting more. 

You getting louder and louder with each thrust of his cock hitting your g-spot, you beg Trevor to fuck you harder… Yes, god right there!

Trevor lifting himself in a plank position over you, his impressive core strength on full display, as he pistons deeper and faster into you. 

You crying out due to the loss of fullness as Trevor pulls out of you to quickly change positions in order to fuck you even deeper. 

Him taking your feet and pushing them up and backwards, over your head, folding your plush body in half, that swollen wet pussy left perfectly on display for him, centered between the undersides of those two juicy thighs of yours. 

Trevor telling you how good you feel. How much he loves your pussy, your body, eventually lost in pleasure, him slipping up and admitting that he loves you so fucking much and doesn’t want to imagine his future without you. 

Trevor pounding into you, bruising your hips with his hands, the way he grips you so hard, as if terrified of letting you go. 

Trevor getting closer and closer to his release, wanting to make sure you cum first. Using his thumb to rub circles on your clit, enjoying the way it makes those thick thighs ripple and shake when you cum so hard for the first time that night. 

Trevor fucking you through your orgasm, giving you no time to recover as he feels his own impending release getting closer and closer. 

Trevor telling you not to worry that he’ll pull out if you want, that he doesn’t want to burden you with his cursed lineage but him also admitting he’d love nothing more than to raise a giant family with you. To see your supple breasts get even bigger and swollen with milk and watch your soft stomach stretch to accommodate his child growing inside you. 

Trevor finishing wherever you ask, releasing his cum with a deep choked-off moan, sounding so gruff, impassioned, and absolutely wrecked by the pulsations of your cunt. The feeling of his hot release causing you to swell with pride as you reach your peak for a second time that night. 

Trevor falling on the bed, pulling you on top of him, his fingers sweetly stroking up and down your back as the both of you come down from your high. 

You choosing to enjoy the silence between the two of you, soaking in the wonderful sounds of the peaceful night - the cricket chirps, and owls hooting. Knowing the moment won’t last as there will always be another fight and another monster, but so long as you have each other, you’ll be alright.

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[akumahoshojo]

💗   💞   𝓋  𝒶  𝓁  𝑒  𝓃  𝓉  𝒾  𝓃  𝑒  '  𝓈    𝒹  𝒶  𝓎    𝓀  𝒾  𝓈  𝓈   💋   💀

[imthemuthafuckingcricket]

@pinkcupboardwitch Yup! He is a new addition! A family member of mine recently passed away, I was never planning on a third cat but long story short, I got a third cat. It was a lil rough at first bc the brothers did not like him, but he has been accepted as the bastard stepson. He truly lives up to his new name; fearless trouble maker that is a lil stupid. Which mixes well with the introversion and spoilness of Lord Byron...and the cleverness and mischievousness of Edgeworth. They are all brats in their own special way, But ultimately, they are the sweetest and most affectionate boys! Ok, without further ado...Meet Belmont :

A meeting of the minds and bellies.

[prickly-paprikash]

My favorite thing about every single Belmont in Netflix's Castlevania and Nocturne?

Every single initial appearance radiates sad, pathetic energy.

Trevor's bar fight scene was equal parts hilarious and disheartening. This is the Last Belmont? A legendary clan of Vampire Hunters, reduced to a drunken brawler who gets his nuts kicked in so many times?

Julia Belmont? Bodied by hot, gay Dragon Daddy Olrox while her son watches. He brings the direct Belmont line down to two, and traumatizes the kid so hard he has ED—Enchantment Dysfunction until he becomes an adult.

Richter? Yeah! Literally has to have his first true core memory be his mom be fucking owned by the sexiest god damn bloodsucker in history. Little bro's canon event was to watch his mama be crushed.

Juste? Sure his entrance is cool, but then we realize he's also suffering from ED, he sucks at this whole grandfather thing, his wife and bestie killed, and he could never even confront his own blood over the death of his fucking daughter.

I love the fact that every single Belmont makes the worst first impressions. Regardless of sex or gender or age. They just fucking suck when introduced.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Alucard finding his s/o drunkenly bragging about how awesome he is to the point he has to step in?

Alucard hated the smell of stale beer and body sweat. It was why he hardly ever frequented taverns and the like. If he had his choice now, he would not be in this one either. Sadly, he had no choice as you hadn’t come back to the inn yet, and with a town this small there was only one place you could be.

You were easy enough to find. Even with the small crowd. Again, the town was small. All there was for folks to do with their evening was drink, pray, or stay cloistered away in their homes. Judging by the crowd here, these men would rather do anything than stay at home with their wives and children. Drunkenly rambling on and one about the lives they could have had if they left their small town and not married young.

“Adrian!” You greet him with a drunken smile. A tankard of ale in front of you. Lord knew how many you had had before that, but it was clear you weren’t making it out of here on your own. “What are you doing here?”

“We need to leave.” He told you. “I’ve come to take you home.”

“Home? We’re going back to Belgraves?”

“No, [Y/N],” Alucard said with a sigh. “We’re going back to the inn.”

“Oh….that makes more sense….” You took another sip of beer. Which was exactly what you needed in his situation.

“What if they don’t want to leave?” Another drunk at the table asked him.

“Yeah! They can make their own choices!”

“They can.” Alucard agreed. “But I think it’s best if everyone calls it a night.”

“You’re telling me what to do now?! Pretty boy.” The man poked two fingers in his chest after he stumbled to his feet. It didn’t hurt, of course. And Alucard didn’t even move when he touched him. It was more annoying than anything to be touched by him. He’d have to wash this coat now.

“Hey! Don’t talk to him like that!” You argue in his defense. “Adrian is a very pretty boy, but you don’t have to say it like that.”

“This is not helping.” Alucard told you.

The man doesn’t even seem to register his comment as he turned to you. “Pretty boys like this don’t ever amount to anything. They don’t know hard work. They don’t know nothin’!”

“Adrian is super smart and a hard worker!” You snap back. “He’s way stronger than you!”

“Oh yeah? Well let’s put it to the test then, pretty boy!”

“I would rather not.” Alucard replied with a dull expression.

“Yes! No gumption at all! He’s a coward too! I bet he doesn’t want to get those pretty blonde locks of him mussed by a real man.” The drunk took a swing at him then. A bad one.

The likelihood of him connecting with Alucard, if he hadn’t caught his hand, was very slim. Nevertheless he did catch it, twisted his arm until there was a sickening crack heard over his scream, and dropped him. He was sure he hadn’t broken it, but he was definitely going to have to wear a sling for a while. “May we please go now?”

You stood up from the table and went to Alucard’s side as the men all stared, dumbfounded, before they found their voices again. They all started shouting at the couple like they had pulled some kind of trick and cheated. Not helped by you shouting back at them while Alucard pulled you from the tavern by the arm out into the street.

“Why don’t you want to go back and fight those guys?” You asked him. “You could easily take them!”

“I’m not going to get into a bar fight like some two-bit thug.” He told you ask you head for the inn. A flash of Trevor Belmonts smug face flickering in his mind.

“But the things they were saying…”

“Every slight doesn’t need a response.” He replied. Opening the door to their room when you both arrived and letting you in first. “Verbal or physical.”

You sit down on the bed with a heavy flop of all your weight. Letting out a drunken huff. “I guess. I just didn’t like what they were saying to you.”

“And I appreciate your call to my honor. But next time, let’s just leave.”

“Ok.” You told him. Reaching out your arms towards him with a drunken smile.

Alucard smiled slightly back and fell to his knees between yours to be wrapped in your requested hug. “You’re not mad at me then?”

“No.” He said. “I could never be mad at you.” Especially when they had the best of intentions. Even if they were misguided. He would just blame the alcohol.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

The historic 1926 RDW Clapp House in Wichita, KS is going up for auction on Aug. 16, but if someone buys it before then, the auction is off. It has 5bds, 7ba, and looks like a castle inside. Oh, and it has an $8mo. HOA.

Check it out, you enter thru a big arched door and iron gate. The entrance hall is stone. Very cool.

There's a fountain with a mural and interesting stairs.

The great room is incredible. Look at the wood, the built-ins, the high ceiling, chandeliers, and the balcony. This is crazy.

Beautiful fireplace. By the looks of the TV, it appears that the family really sits in here and watches TV. I would use it, too.

Look at the size of that window.

The formal dining room has a sculpted ceiling and floor-to-ceiling wood paneling.

The kitchen totally looks like a castle kitchen. Look at the wood.

Look at the exhaust hood over the stove.

This looks like a comfy little room.

An iron gate opens to a glass-walled brick hallway with a pitched wood ceiling.

The hall leads to this beautiful little room with a bar.

The elevator.

If this is the primary bedroom, I would've expected it to be more grand.

This vintage bath is nice. Cute tub and pretty marble walls.

This looks like a waiting room. There are 2 offices, so maybe it's one of them.

They made a home gym in here.

Outside, there's a pool.

Outdoor sitting areas and a fountain.

Beautiful grounds.

The lot is .84 acre. I'm surprised that it's not even an acre.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/320-N-Belmont-Ave-Wichita-KS-67208/77344776_zpid/?

[theredofoctober]

MANNA- CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: FISH

Dark!Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Dark!Will Graham AU fic

TW for eating disorders, noncon, abuse, Daddy kink, cannibalism mentions, non consensual drug use

Read after the cut

---

Two hours after guests and staff alike have made their egress from the house the host himself leaves it, getting into his car with a solitary glance up at your barred lodgings. You cringe from that look, from the purpose that coaxes him out like a stoat into the rain-clothed night.

Hannibal has known perhaps since the first Lover killing the culprit's identity and abode.

He himself is beyond a murderer, a master of games, lording himself above the board of life and only involving himself directly in that play when it serves to amuse him, or else he has no choice but to interfere.

It occurs to you that his current motivation is, in part, both the former and the latter, being that he’d likely sensed a collision with Freddie Lounds or some other disruptive circumstance that would result in his going after Amy again. He’d perhaps even devised such an event; you—predictably affected—had merely struck the spark of it into birth.

Always Hannibal’s intent has been to make some grand demonstration of his influence, a court magician with a vanishing trick: now you see it, now you don’t.

Who else has disappeared through his performance and returned only in death?

You’re convinced by now that he is indeed the Copycat, need only proof in absolutes to entirely believe it. But if he is so then all food consumed within this den has been of human produce, and there is no length of starvation nor manner of purging that will expunge this from your history.

They are part of you now, the whispering dead; you are built of cadavers, and the entrails of stars, and champagne, engorged with the reeking malign of the jackal you’ve become in your imprisonment.

You resign yourself to bed, feeling truly ill, and so do not hear when Hannibal returns in the early hours of the morning. Do not fully wake as he comes into your room, a needle between his fingers, nor when he whispers to you over the click of the metronome.

Nor, too, when through your lips he passes some fatty soup, which in a half doze you attempt to expel.

“You need to eat, my love,” he says. “Let’s try again.”

You dream of Savannah Belmont, her dark eyes turned grey in absence of life, sitting on a kitchen chair beside the muttering waters of a river. The fingers of her right hand play idly between her legs, and the other reaches into the foramen of her open gut, emerging full of water beetles and wriggling fish.

“I’m not hungry,” you say, as she offers them to you.

The dream repeats all night and on into the day until you think you may never escape its smothering hold.

You rise the following afternoon like the personification of the sin of Sloth, unsure what to make of Hannibal’s visitation, or of the hours lost to the shifting hallways of memory.

Grudgingly you go down through the house in search of your jailer, knowing that you must play inquisitor and have the truth of Amy’s fate out of him.

It is in the grand living room with its many decorative animal skulls that you find him, a king of the deceased amidst his plenty.

He sits in an armchair, holding his iPad on one crossed knee as he might the works of Kafka, dignified and invested in the screen. Standing on tiptoe to peep over his shoulder you see a news reporter standing against a backdrop of half bare trees.

The volume is low, only a scattering of words reaching your ears.

“Breaking... the woman thought to have been the most recent victim... found hitchhiking along a forest road just outside...”

"Amy," you say, aloud, and Hannibal part turns his head to you, his face like that of Jesus Christ, all grace and mercy.

"Hello, Little One,” he says. “Please sit with me. There's something I'd like you to see that should comfort you."

You hesitate to approach, your instincts a vortex of craving to run. Yet you must make nice with the monster, or else become his meat.

"Yes, Daddy," you mumble, and perch stiffly on the arm of Hannibal's chair, straightening your back in aversion to even accidental contact with him.

He blinks at your inappropriate use of his furniture, but does not reprimand you aloud. Instead he turns the iPad towards you and taps a forefinger on the screen.

“Police say the victim was kept in an abandoned shack after being struck in the head and abducted the previous night,” says the reporter. “Glass was able to escape through an unlocked door while her assailant was distracted by an unknown individual. After fleeing through a forested area she was able to find the nearest road and flag down a passing driver, who promptly called the police.”

“That was you,” you say, softly. “The ‘unknown individual’.”

Hannibal puts a finger to his lips.

“Keep watching, please.”

“Glass is suffering from concussion and minor memory loss, but is otherwise healthy,” says the reporter, through a grin of chemically whitened teeth. “Police are investigating the area in which she was held hostage for any evidence left by the attacker.”

The screen flashes to video of Amy, her eyes marbled with broken veins, bruising spread across her temple like an abstract watercolour piece. She’s wrapped up in an oversized sweater that only makes her look thinner within it, her every bone like armature against her skin.

Jealousy yanks at you like a vicious hook, and you find yourself appalled by your disease, that seeing a friend unwell inspires in you desire to replicate her sickness.

One of Amy's older brothers, Darrien, stands with an arm around her narrow shoulders, a surprise to you, being that they hadn't liked one another in childhood.

They both stand smiling like hospice patients forced to attend some miserable function against their will.

“I just want to say how grateful I am to be home with my family,” says Amy— she sounds stilted, almost scripted, unlike herself. “I know how lucky I am to be here. I’d like to thank Morgan Vance, who picked me up at 5am and never complained once. If she hadn’t stopped for me I don’t know where I’d be right now.”

“As a family, we’re asking for privacy,” says Darrien, and he rubs Amy’s shoulder, an unimaginable gesture from the boy who’d once shunned his sibling in school hallways. “I get people have a ton of questions, but right now we’d appreciate it if everybody gave us time to process everything.”

The news segment shifts to another topic, the falling of a church roof in Savage, Maryland.

You glance up at Hannibal, tears brimming in the fonts of your eyes. His face is pretty in the afternoon daylight, the age coaxed out of it by the sun.

"You saved her life,” you say.

"Yes."

Like a witch come to some blue blood’s birth he extends his curse to you as a gift, and you know better by now than to decline it.

In a whisper, you say, "Thank you."

"You're very welcome,” says Hannibal, and he puts a light hand upon your trembling knee, his thumb stroking the joint where a knife might cut it out. “I only hope that now you see the genuine intent behind my words, as well as my capabilities."

"How did you do it?” you ask. “How did you even find the Lover?"

Hannibal continues stroking your knee through your skirt, sending a tremble of sensitivity up your thigh.

"I've known his identity for some months now,” he says. “I can't tell you how just yet. But I can divulge that the Lover is following his own investigation, and knows that I've been helping Jack and Will when I can.

“Through this the Lover came to learn of our connection to you. When I called him to suggest Amy as his next interest he informed me that she’d already been considered."

You struggle down from the arm of the chair, taking a few hasty steps back.

"You... you gave her to him,” you stammer. “I knew it."

"And I returned her to you safely,” says Hannibal, patiently. “At my side, you'll receive all that you could ever ask of me, but as my enemy there is much to lose. I don't mean to threaten you, Little One. My interest is only in being truthful with you."

You gather your hands at your mouth, breathing in quick, stinging bursts.

"Why did the Lover want Amy?" you ask.

"He, like Freddie Lounds, had deduced some connection between you and Miss Glass. The Lover believed that abducting her would sow discord in our household, and therefore derail the investigation. I suggested that I agreed with his assessment."

How unemotionally he speaks of his this, as though reading aloud the introduction to some dull novel.

"Then what happened when you went out there the other night?” you ask, sweat staling your neck. “Why did he just let Amy go?"

"I told him that we'd made a mistake,” says Hannibal, “and that Will had grown suspicious. The abduction itself had gone poorly due to Amy putting up more of a fight than was expected of her; from Will's piecing together of the scene and certain evidence noticed there he would have located the shack the Lover was using in some days.

“So I encouraged the killer to allow Amy her freedom and abandon the building entirely. I’m told he burned it some minutes after her escape."

You picture your friend staggering by dark morning through some wood, the stink of smoke all through her hair.

"Won't she give you both up to the police?” you ask. “She must have seen his face, then there was the phone call—"

"Amy will remember very little prior to her liberty,” says Hannibal. “The avenue for her escape itself was staged by the Lover and I to resemble an unexpected interruption. I spent some hours with Amy before this, ensuring that she wouldn't stray from the official version of events. Her concussion is not the cause of her lost memories."

"You hypnotised her,” you say. “With the white lights. The ones from therapy."

You do not mention the day taken from you by similar practice, afraid of that vacuum of memory.

"You’re correct,” says Hannibal. “I did.”

"But her phone records—"

"The Lover removed Amy's cell phone from her person and took care to destroy it. I believe this is procedure with each of his killings."

Appalled, you wonder how you are to smile and be the swaddled baby of the doctor now the first layer of his ghillie suit has been shucked away.

"So you're like, friends with the Lover?” you ask, unable to entirely disguise your disgust.

"We are acquaintances,” says Hannibal, “with a similar goal: that of proving our love to an individual so adamantly set against receiving it."

He polishes the iPad with a thin cloth and puts it away in a silver case, labouring with a quiet delight over the mundane nature of routine.

"When are you going to tell Will who the Lover is?” you ask, bleakly. “You can't just let him kill more and more girls."

“Will is already on the verge of uncovering the killer's identity without my intervention,” says Hannibal. “By enticing the Lover to be reckless he has somewhat revealed himself, and is no longer the enigma he once was. Besides, if I were to unveil the Lover myself I would invite questions I cannot safely answer.”

Naturally he is self-preserving, first and foremost. But above all, to end the killer’s reign too quickly would bore him; from Hannibal’s handling of your own case you understand this.

"Don't you care about those dead girls at all?" you ask, and your captor smiles without warmth.

"Their deaths are part of the Lover’s exhibition. He is a crude artist, certainly, but he is not yet in possession of his muse. It’s satisfying to observe the progression of his work.”

Your balance wavers, threatens to give under the shock of this confession.

"Daddy,” you say, pitiful in your horror. “You’re scaring me."

Hannibal regards you with a kind of disappointment.

"God frequently inspires terror with His might, but those who follow Him with obedience need never fear His hand. I’d hoped that you might learn this through Amy's safe return."

Alarmed, you slip from the couch and kneel before Hannibal, feeling that you must display some false devotion or else be expelled as a heretic by terminal design.

"I'm grateful," you say, clutching at him with fervent hands. "I am, Daddy. I get why you did it. And I'm thankful you did what I asked. Just... please don't do anything like that again. I swear I'll try harder to be good. I'm trying to understand you. Really I am.”

Hannibal gazes down at you for a beat, seeming on the cusp of some internal decision.

"I can see that,” he says, at last. “And you’re young. There’s time yet for you to study under me.”

Will's voice, hoarse with illness, swerves through the room like an abrupt change in the forecast.

"What have I missed?"

You think to leap up and away from Hannibal as though caught in some illicit tryst, but a look from the older man impels you to remain, your cheek resting in his lap.

"She's offering me gratitude for my leniency regarding her outburst at the party," says Hannibal, unruffled by the interruption. "It's fortunate that my guests were unsurprised by Miss Lounds' deliberate attempt to provoke our Little One. They've been wholly charitable and sympathetic."

Will steps into view, his eyebrows almost at his hairline. His face is cadaverous and glazed with the resin of sweat.

The case, his illness: they suck from him his vigour, and though he is accomplice to your deadly keeper you’ve soul enough in you to pity him.

"Honestly, I don't know why you even invited Freddie,” he says. “It was a bad idea."

"In hindsight, I concur,” says Hannibal. “But my intent was to give the impression of having nothing to hide."

Will laughs and shakes his head.

"Freddie’ll see dirt on us both no matter what we do. Now she'll have even more of a reason to look."

"We mustn’t concern ourselves with the idle fodder of gossip columnists. I’ve had a stern word with Miss Lounds discouraging her from provoking our charge at future events. The matter is much resolved.”

Eyeing your sniffling figure, Will says, "Doesn’t look resolved from here.”

"There was another matter. Our Little One also chose to overindulge in champagne.”

Starting, you look up at Will and see him struggle not to laugh again.

Rather than be a hypocrite and side entirely with his friend, he asks, "Did you explicitly tell her she couldn't drink?"

"No," you pipe up from Hannibal's knee. "He didn't."

"I've never claimed to be faultless," says the doctor. "Evidently I haven’t been clear in my stance. But the implication was strong enough that you deliberately hid your drinking from me. You were far from subtle, I assure you."

You turn your face against his leg, hiding it in the fabric so as not to see the developing lust for punitive sex in his eyes.

"I’m sorry."

"Perhaps I'd be more inclined to believe that claim if you made a demonstration of it."

"Well, she knows how to give apologies," says Will, as much to diffuse the dark tension between you as to follow his own sensual curiosities. "I received one once in this exact room that seemed pretty genuine.”

“Hey," you say, rather hurt; you’d rather hoped he’d rise more strongly in your defence.

You’re uncertain whether the two men would be on such cordial terms if Will shared your knowledge of Hannibal. Yet already he suspects at least partly his shadows, and still is willing to flank him in the act of rape.

Still, you know his revulsion for the Lover to be genuine, see it in its wearying of him. There is a line for Will Graham, somewhere, but you do not know how long it will remain before he crosses it.

“Little One,” says Hannibal, gently reminding you of your duty.

As you begin working listlessly at Hannibal’s trouser button that Will says, "Mind if I help?"

For a moment you imagine him on his knees beside you, sharing the heavy phallus with eager tongue and coarse, pale hands, and you loathe the little light that flares between your compressed thighs.

Instead Will comes to stand behind you, smoothing back your hair as you bow your head to Hannibal; the other man bends likewise, arms going out to you as you consume him in a bite without teeth.

Four hands, then, upon you, two in your hair, twins caressing your face and neck with a touch that bears the prospect and willingness to love, should you become, like the dancing myth, a swan by night— you shift beneath that touch as ash, eating of the hated one as though for the taste of him.

You kiss his length, look up into the face that shunts through you a stake of killing fear and see him clearly, then, a legend brought earthwards by the wants he shares with men. See through the tiers of guise and truth that you fear most his humanity, that he can love.

Even in this coaxing to consent in your dismantlement you know it, see through a window of time how gently he would rear you as his own.

You do not want him, or this, and yet you feel yourself seduced by him, if only in a subconscious attempt to lessen the guilt that is sister to you.

His gaze, of lowered lids and pleasured shine, watches you with enjoyment. As your tongue whispers on his cock Hannibal murmurs to you praise and urging, sometimes an utterance of your name; while he is sated, you are safe, and so into your narrow throat you sink him down.

You owe him, you think, in some cosmic fashion, for the gold of two lives spared, yours, and that of Amy Glass. Like all Gods Hannibal demands his offering, and though you are no virgin you give yourself to that altar, raise and drop like the sun upon a mountain.

“That’s it,” says Hannibal. “My talented darling.”

Your mouth is a grail to him, some magic article; you know it from the breathy groans with which he exalts your attempts to satisfy.

“Don’t give her an ego,” says Will, but then he kisses your bent neck, and you feel a pulse between your legs again like the last heartbeat before death’s oblivion.

Hands, hands, mouths.

You take their lips on yours like a rat bite, assuming they’ve already long begun to infect you with their disease.

Then as you suck again, aware of Will’s thin form over you like a bower, enclosing you in the act, with them.

Mouths, mouths, hands, only one pair of which have not given themselves to murder, yet are not wholly clean of sin.

You wear your shame like a bridle as you mouth Hannibal’s cock, feel its restraint and harsh leading as you tongue him to his peak.

Will’s fingers tense slightly at your throat, something of his old meanness in it— threatened, you realise, by your curiosity in Hannibal’s affections for you, which you test now with your submission.

Even if Will ever offers up the steaming muscle of his own heart to you that unpleasantness will remain like gristle on the meat.

You do not wish to be a partner in this business of mystery and sex, and yet there is power in it, power with which you may bend Will to your side before you’re contorted by what you may become.

This you think even as you hold Hannibal between your jaws to swallow his finish, a desperate thought that may deliver you to some dinner plate. But you think of it still, think it even as you get up from your knees and turn to Will, twitching with resentment that he, to whom you’ve grown close, still allows you to be so abused.

Light as a fairy child on tip-toe you cross to him and push your wet mouth to the invitation of his lips, spilling warm seed between them so that he, too, might share in the taste of his man.

Will’s eyes widen, yet he does not withdraw from the affection, merely kisses you back with a silent passion. When you draw apart he swallows, glancing down and away from you, his fingertips on his mouth like a stitch, holding Hannibal in.

*

Later, when the doctor makes brief leave of the living room to prepare dinner, you find yourself looking at Will with the haughtiness of betrayal.

“I’d better address the elephant in the room,” he says, at last. “I should have been in your corner. It’s not easy playing both sides, but I know that night was hard for you. I won’t judge you for making a mistake.”

“I don’t care about that,” you say. “You should have told me the Lover took Amy. Sure, it’s been years since I’ve seen her or anything, but it doesn’t matter. You should have told me as soon as you knew.”

Will looks away into the fire.

“I didn’t want to be the one to hurt you with that news. If she hadn’t survived—”

“So what? I’d rather you hurt me than anybody else.”

You hear Will murmur your name, the beginnings of an explanation.

“I don’t care,” you snap, again. “I don’t want your apologies. I got you back for it, anyway.”

Will turns away quietly, ignoring the barb.

Then he says, “One. There’s another reason I’ve been holding back. Not just about Amy, though she’s part of it. Since the Copycat murder I’ve been thinking a lot about previous killings in the area. How similar they are to what happened to Savannah. Have you ever heard of the Chesapeake Ripper?”

“I don’t know,” you say, with a moody shrug. “Maybe.”

“Over the past few years he’s killed in groups of three, always putting the mutilated victims on display after removing their organs from their still living bodies. Savannah Belmont was also still alive when her stomach was cut out of her. Both killers have surgical knowledge.”

At this you twist towards Will’s armchair, watching nervily as he feeds a new log to the hearth.

“You think they might be the same killer?” you ask. “The Lover and this Ripper guy?”

“I won’t know for sure unless there are at least two other murders,” says Will. “He always follows a pattern.”

“But you can’t just wait for that to happen.”

“I know.”

You yearn to tell him about Hannibal, daren’t breath even a letter of his avowal.

“The organs the Ripper cuts from his victims,” you say. “Do you know what he does with them?”

Will glances up, rapidly alert.

“The way you’re asking me that makes me think you’ve made some kind of guess,” he says. “You want to tell me what it is?”

At first you say nothing, knees brought high under your chin like a child’s.

“Will,” you whisper. “What if he eats them?”

[princesssmars]

season of the witch

a trephacard x witch reader

wc : 3.644

the saviors of wallachia are tasked with the removal of a dark entity plaguing a town, just to meet a new acquaintance instead.

contains: mentions of murder and violence, cursing, mentions of nsfw bc trevor belmont is a Bastard. fluff. me losing my sanity i need them so bad.

a/n : i miss them so badly god please.

the heart of the forest inside of wallachia was always dark, even before dracula unleashed demons from hell onto them that bloody night. some of the trees were thin, fragile, and tall; looking over you like a shadow looming behind your back. the others were thick and rotting, full of branches hanging off of them like a monster about to strike. staying in these woods long wasn't something meant for the faint of heart.

luckily, the three heroes of wallachia (or the entire world, depending on who you asked), were anything but that. unluckily, they didn't know how to be quiet.

"there's no shame in admitting we're lost really, it happens to the best of us-" "shut your mouth.” trevor quickly cuts off alucard’s jest, trying to focus on steering the group’s cart through the rough terrain. even the horses seemed on edge.

he was too, not like he would admit it out loud. he had heard stories from his older brothers about what was in here. monsters. witches. demons. but then again, he wasn't a stubborn little child who couldn't fight his battles anymore.

he was now a stubborn adult.

“boys, be civil just for this trip, please. we need to save our energy,” syphas’ head pops out from inside the cart, looking between them like a scolding mother. “i have a weird feeling about this job, I can't describe it. but, in case it's bad, we should probably hurry.”

the “job” sypha was talking about was of course investigating the woods and the small town close to them, to the northeast of gresit. there had been reports of strange things happening in the woods-most likely night creatures that had escaped somehow. they'd go in, kill the creatures, retrieve their reward (and maybe some information and ale), then be gone. easy peasy.

“worry not, sypha, it's most likely some pissed-off night creatures that frightened a few of the townspeople. nothing we haven't dealt with before.” alucard says, moving to take her hand in his to further soothe her nerves.

“mhmm…” she hums, still staring straight ahead at the road.

they eventually arrive at the town, stopping the cart little ways out and getting out to walk the rest of the way. the informant said to meet them at the tavern, and when they step inside all eyes turn to them. there are a few seconds of tense silence before the bartender speaks up, “you the three here for the job?”

“yes, we’re here to help.” alucard steps forward with a polite look on his face.

the bar then breaks out into the usual chatter and laughter as the bartender smiles and waves them closer. the three make their way over to him and sit at the stools near the bar, with alucard sitting normally, trevor with his legs open, and sypha with hers crossed.

“can I get yall anything to drink? it's on the house, the least we could do” the bartender voices, cleaning some glasses.

“some beer would be nice, actually,” trevor says almost immediately, earning playfully annoyed looks from his lovers. “what? it's the least they could do!”

they're given their drinks and the bartender gives them some more information about the job, giving insight into how some men in the village went to hunt in the woods last week and haven't returned.

“it’d be best to head out in the morning if you ask me,” the bartender’s eyes flit around, looking almost nervous. “not to be superstitious but now is around the prime time for whatever lives in there.”

the group all share a look before trevor rests his arms on the bar. “then I guess we better get started.”

“is it just me or is there nothing in here to be worried about?” sypha whispers, narrowly avoiding tripping over a large root sticking out of the ground. they'd been walking for what felt like an hour with no sighting of any night creatures, just rarely stumbling across the normal creatures.

trevor sighs, dragging his feet behind his companions. “i knew it, probably just some scared old woman who saw a weirdly shaped tree in the dark.”

“and the men who went missing?” alucard pipes in.

“skipped town or fell in a ditch.”

sypha lets out a long sigh before stopping and turning around. “alright, this clearly isn't working. we should try something else.”

adrian hums, just as annoyed as her at this point. “i could climb the trees, try to get a better view of everything.”

the redhead lights up with a bright smile, clasping her hands together. “that's a great idea, adrian! come down and tell us if you've seen anything.”

he nods, quickly jump-teleporting up the branches of one of the taller trees. below, sypha looks up at him dreamily.

“pshh, i could climb a tree too, y’know.” trevor mumbles, crossing his arms. his face slacks when sypha kisses his cheek and says, “i know you could my love. it'd take you quite a bit, though.”

alucard glances through and above the trees that he can, able to see a good few miles out thanks to the height and his vampiric abilities. he looks around, almost giving up before he sees it: smoke.

jumping down, nearly scaring the daylights out of his partners who lightly scold him, he informs them of what he saw. glad to finally have a bit of action (even if its probably a straggler camping).

as they make their way deeper into the northern section of the woods, they start to feel…weird. like an unwelcoming energy surrounds them, urging, even begging them to leave.

trevor grunts, deciding to call out the uneasy feeling. “does anyone else feel weird or is it just me?”

“yes, there is indeed something strange in the air,” alucard nods, slowing his steps, “it feels like a protective spell, probably guarding something.”

“or someone,” sypha butts in. she's cast this kind of spell before on the castle and the hold to assure alucard they'd be safe while they traveled. it was a bit complicated, but her abilities were growing every day. but the way this spell felt, it had to have been cast by someone extremely powerful. “but we've already made it this far, we might as well see it…through…”

her voice trails off as all of their steps slow. in front of the group stands a small black cottage, the walls made of cobblestone, and the roof made with a dark wood. a path leading to the house turns into a bridge halfway through, reaching over a creek that comes from a small waterfall coming from one of the walls of rock that act as an enclosure for the abode. it was eerie yet almost comforting.

“my goodness…” sypha exclaimed, walking closer to the bridge until she felt a rough hand pulling her back. she looks up at trevor with questioning eyes while he sighs. “were you just gonna walk in and say hello?”

she scoffs, knowing that yeah, she might have. she knew she could be a little naive because of her upbringing and personality, but despite the dark exterior, this place seemed rather peaceful. almost comforting. it'd be hard to explain the connection she felt to this place already.

“if anything i would assume youd be the one to run into danger, trevor,” alucard jokes, walking past the two to analyze the house, “but he is right. we should proceed with caution.”

trevor and sypha nod their heads in agreement, following the blonde over the bridge and up to the door. sypha suggested knocking but in the middle of her sentence, trevor twists the door knob to find it open.

“wait!” she whisper yells, making the man's foot stop before it can cross the threshold. "there's another protection spell starting at the doorway, let me just..."

"i think it's a special sage, lets head in and investigate."

the redhead holds her hand up to the door, her palm brimming with her magic as it gets closer to the boundary. to her surprise, the air in the doorway seems to shimmer with energy. it slightly tickles her hand, making a slight giggle leave her lips.

the companions slowly step through the doorway into what seems like a cozy and cluttered living area. there were numerous books on the far wall, being split apart by a lit cobblestone fireplace. connected to the room is a small kitchen, with various herbs, spices, and plants lining the counters. leading from where the rooms meet is a hallway leading deeper into the cottage, with many candles on the walls being lit.

"look there," alucard tilts his head to the fireplace, noting how a small cauldron is laced on a hook over the flames, with the contents inside nearly boiling over, "whoever resides here has been in here recently."

"at least theyre a nice interior decorator. but id like to know where they're hiding because im becoming uncomfortable." trevor grunts, folding his arms over his chest.

sypha slightly chuckles, poking him in the arm. "oh don't tell me you’re scared of a little recluse, trephie."

"i told you to please stop calling me that-"

"what are you doing in my house?"

the two immediately stop their teasing, all three of the hunters still, turning slowly to face the direction the mystery voice came from.

standing in the doorway connecting the kitchen to the back portion of the yard stands a woman, wearing a casual cloth shirt and simple but slightly muddy trousers. in your arms is a bundle of vegetables and plants picked from what they assume must be a small farm. the thorns of one of the flowers pricks into the skin of your arm from your grip.

the three strangers stare at you, waiting for you to make a move of attack. when you raise your leg to take a step you see the brunette raise his hand to his hip, getting ready to grip-

"my gods, is that the morning star?" you gently exclaim, pointing to the infamous weapon attached to his whip. you'd read about it in one of your books regarding renowned weaponry and the families they were tied to. which meant... "that means you're a belmont, correct?"

as you look at your other sudden.."guests", you recognize the blonde as a vampire, given his catching eyes and pale skin, and the woman with red hair is wearing what you're pretty sure are traditional speaker robes. she’s oddly pretty for a speaker you think. the ones you've seen all seemed like they would drop dead at a gust of wind.

the woman carefully steps forward, placing her hands in front of you as the men visibly tense at her movement. she smiles at you, a really damn pretty smile, and stands up straight. "we did not mean to intrude in your home miss. well, technically we did but only because we've been sent by the people of-"

"belros." the word leaves your mouth like bile, your brows scrunching in annoyance. you sigh, moving over to the counter in the kitchen and setting down your produce before making your way around them and to your fireplace, gently removing the bubbling cauldron from over the fire.

"you’re familiar with the people in the village i assume? though i imagine you don't see them often, you're more than self-sufficient out here." alucard inquires, looking at the number of items stuffed into containers and shelves on the walls.

"im familiar with how the townspeople are a bunch of babbling idiots who would cower in fear at an eclipse," you spit, moving to turn towards the three of them, "and how they banished me from the village when i was young and frequently send people out here to rid of me in fear of what i might do to them."

"you’re telling me those people in belros kicked you put when you were what, a child? what’d you do?" trevor asks, putting his hands up when sypha fixes him with a hard glare.

"no, its fine. it’s reasonable for you to question it. do you mind if i ask your names first?" you move forward to sit on the couch, the speaker sitting on the couch with you while the belmont and dhampir sit on the identical couch across from you.

"well, my name is sypha belnades. these are my partners, trevor belmont and alucard tepes." sypha answers, pointing to each person as she says their name.

"its nice to meet you all. now if you don't mind me asking, how did a speaker, a belmont, and a vampire come to travel together?"

"well it all started with this ones batshit crazy father-"

"trevor!"

"its a bit more complicated than the nitwit makes it seem, but yes, we did come together because of my father. im sure you noticed the amount of hell he unleashed." alucard is calm when speaking, seeming used to trevors rude comments.

'they seem really close', your mind thinks. you feel yourself at ease a bit more.

“yes, it was trevor who saved me from my death, actually. after that, we found alucard and went to kill dracula. once we finished we decided to stick together.” sypha tells, her face bright as she talks about meeting her companions.

“well, I'm glad your encounters with other people these past few months have gone better than mine,” you sigh, moving to sit on one of your couches while they crowd onto the other, eager to hear your story.

you explain to them how you are a witch born with magic, coming from a fairly long line of powerful ones who worked behind the scenes so as to not scare humans with your abilities, lest they call you a demon and ostracize you or worse.

sadly, thats exactly whats happened to you. when you were but a child you had seen one of the town's hunters wounded in the woods, clearly about to die if you didnt help

when you had you found this cottage, you quickly fixed it up and moved it, putting up the protection spells in fear of being found by anything or anyone. but it was inevitable that you head out into the woods and people break through. it didn't phase you any longer to admit what you had to do to protect yourself.

their facial reactions are mixed, a variation of shock, horror, and anger. you were grateful they didn’t seem too upset about you basically confessing to murder, but you suppose they had seen and caused their fair share of death.

to your surprise sypha reaches over, taking your hands in her cold ones, trevor smirking at your visible shiver. “we are so sorry to hear that, y/n. if we had any idea of what the townspeople were like…”

“its alright, sypha. thank you for listening, let alone believing me.” you thank her, smiling at the woman.

“well what do we do now?” trevor questions, “its not like we can just go back there and say we had a nice chat with you and decided to be friendly.”

“i have an idea.” alucard says. “i will need to see what potion materials you have, may i?”

you nod and rise with him, guiding him over to your multitude of stuffed shelves in the seating area and the kitchen. while he’s searching for what he needs you cant help but admire him. ou had always read about the beauty of vampires but figured it was a farce they put on to lure in unsuspecting humans to their doom. but the man in front of you is ethereal and now staring back at you.

“my apologies, i didn't mean to stare and make you uncomfortable.” you nervously chuckle, quickly turning back to look for the ingredients you were searching for.

“its alright. im often complimented for my beauty on our travels.” he laughs, playfully flicking a lock of air behind his shoulder.

“i didn't take you for the vain one, alucard.”

“you may call me adrien, if you'd like. and I'm not really. i get most of my attributes from my mother. its…comforting, to know i look like her.” his tone of voice brings your eyes back to him, seeing the mix of fondness and grief in his eyes at the mention of is mother. you remember faintly hearing that the demons you'd encountered were brought about by draculas rage at his loss, and you couldn't fathom how he managed to process the murder of his mother, the mental collapse of his father and then having to take his life.

not knowing how else to comfort him, you decide to relate to his struggles. “when I escaped here I managed to save a few things of my parents, like my mothers’ jewelry box. it hurts a bit to look at it but it's nice knowing I have something of hers to keep with me.”

alucard watches you as you speak, smiling when our eyes meet his, saying a little “thank you.” under his breath.

trevor laughs, biting into a snack you had offered to them earlier. “another addition to the club of mommy issues. god, help us all.”

the rest of the night is spent discussing and starting alucard’s plan and getting to know more about your new friends. despite the fear of what will happen the next day, you find yourself enjoying their company more than you thought you would.

.

.

.

“ah! our saviors have returned! with good news i hope?” the bartender addresses the returning trio, the other members of the bar turning to look at them in awe and hope.

“your little problem has been taken care of. you and the people of your town will no longer have to worry about what lurks in the woods.” sypha tells, projecting her voice to alert everyone inside the room.

the room quickly erupts into cheers and shouts, the patrons of the bar rejoicing with the news that they are a little bit safer. if they had still been in the dark the three would have found comfort knowing they had helped to bring safety to more people, but after becoming aware that they are happy at the death of a woman, it leaves a bitter taste in their mouths.

“thank you, thank you! we are forever in your debt.” an older man says, his attire leading them to recognize him as the leader of the village.

“trust us, it was no problem.” trevor assures. “although, how about a round of drinks? monster hunting leaves a man thirsty, after all.”

“why stop at a drink? we will throw you a feast! you have saved our people a great deal, you deserve nothing less.”

the three share a secret look.

“that sounds wonderful.”

.

.

.

the feast is spectacular. there is a great amount of food, enough to share with everyone in the village to syphas insistence. before the drinks are served, alucard excuses himself. he returns when trevor and sypha are in a seemingly pleasant conversation with the village head. halfway through the dinner, they notice how the townspeople seem a bit lighter like a weight has been lifted off their shoulders.

once the feast is over trevor heads to the edge of the woods near the front of the town, where you wait patiently while fiddling your hands together. you have faith in alucard but if this works, if the people recognize you…

“dont worry. it anything goes wrong we’ll protect you.” trevor notices your worry and reassures you, placing a large hand on your shoulder while he guides you into the village center.

you both stop as a woman with her child does the same in front of you. you can feel the magic inside of you gearing up in the face of potential danger.

“why hell, dear. we haven't seen you in town before. are you a visitor as well?”

you let out a concealed long breath.

“yes. yes, i am.”

.

.

.

“it seems like the townspeople are rather welcoming to you. i hope this will help bring you a sense of security, y/n.” sypha hugs you close to her in front of her and her partner's wagon. after making sure the potion had been taken and the now forgetful townspeople had been alright with your presence, it was time for them to head on to their next journey.

“you have no idea what you three have done for me today, i have no idea how to repay you,” you tell them.

“well you could always come along with us and earn your keep, i suppose.” trevor jokes, shrugging his shoulders as adrien and sypha roll their eyes at him. “what? you two were thinking it as well!”

“i do agree it would be enjoyable to have you on our travels. you'd make a powerful ally to us as we continue to clean up wallachia of night creatures.” adrien agrees.

sypha nods. “and what if the potion wears off? or more people bother you because of your abilities? maybe it would be better for you to come with us. for extra protection, of course.”

you nod your head along, pretending to take in their arguments like you hadn't already made up your mind when they had risked so much to help you. you had a feeling your life was going to become a lot more exciting traveling with the heroes of wallachia.

.

.

.

[cressidagrey]

I breathe flames each time I talk - Chapter 7

Summary:

The story of how Oriana Fireborn Belmont finally meets her mate's family.

Also the story of how Rhysand, The High Lord of the Night Court, finally recognises that by the cauldron, there is no fury like a female scorned.

Azriel would just like everybody to get along.

Warnings:

Definitely NSFW

Notes:

I put a lot of world building into this. If you don't recognise it from canon, I probably invented. Or I forgot that canon existed.

(thanks to @firefly-graphics for the super pretty dividers!)

The house had quieted down, everybody leaving, just him and Oriana. The wards were armed to their teeth and he was certain that if Cassian ever tried to force his way through them again…well he would probably lose. 

Oriana would have patched every weak spot there was as soon as she realised that there was one. 

Still, she was the one who more or less poured him into the bathtub and then scrubbed his hair, using the kind of soap bar she used, not him. It left his hair too soft to his own touch. Still, he let her do that because he knew that she was doing that not only to care for him but also to calm herself. 

She tucked Azriel into bed, giving him potions to drink and he did so without any protest, immediately feeling his muscles relax as the pain lightened. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked him quietly. 

“Good,” he promised her. “I am alright,” he repeated, leaning back against the pillow, trailing a finger down her cheek. “You don’t need to worry.”

“Sweetling,” she protested, her voice hoarse. 

“I  swear I am alright. I promise,” he repeated to her. “I promised I wouldn’t lie to you. And I won’t.”

Not when he knew that she could immediately pick out that he did indeed lie.

She sighed, but she took him at his word. 

She moved throughout their bedroom, wearing that cobalt blue dressing gown that he had come to connect with her, picking up her hairbrush and starting to pull it through the length of it.  

“May I?” he asked. He didn’t need to say anything else. She would understand. 

“Of course,” Oriana agreed, sitting down at the edge of the bed and handing the brush to him. 

He started at the ends, gently starting to tease out the knots in her long hair that fell down her back in waves. It was beautiful, long and thick and curly when she didn’t use the brush to tame it into silky waves. 

He didn’t know what he liked more. It didn’t really matter. He loved her every which way he could. 

“Every time I do that, I feel myself calming down. I am at peace here,” he said quietly. 

Azriel didn’t think that he ever going to reach a place where he could be that. But somehow Oriana had become that for him. Become this oasis of peace and quiet in his life, a sanctuary and paradise at the same time. 

As long as he had her, everything was well in his life. “I love it,” he whispered. 

“I love it here too,” Oriana agreed softly and they lapsed into silence, like they sometimes did, completely content to be in the same room and ignore each other if that meant that they could be in each other’s nearer vicinity. And he thought about that evening about his family all coming together, about Oriana surrounded by his brothers, and Feyyre and Nesta, Amren and MOore…and Nyx, baby Nyx who seemed to have his first crush on Oriana of all people when his wide blue eyes and grins were any indication. 

She had slid into place with them as there had always been a place for her. 

And still…

“The only reason why I didn’t introduce you to them sooner was Rhys. It had nothing to do with you,” he finally said, and Oriana twisted around, staring at him. The Flames in her were dancing wildly, surprise written all over her face. “I swear. I know you probably thought that it had something to do with you, but it didn’t. It was on me and I was scared.” He sighed.  “I am not good with words,” he told her quietly. 

“You seem to do it alright,” Oriana quipped, but he shook his head. 

“I…I know, but…I… Oriana,” the words stuck in his throat.  

“You don’t need to say it. I know,” she promised him, a hand gently cupping his cheek. “It’s written all over your face, in everything you do…I feel through the bond every day, Azriel. I didn’t need the words.”

Maybe she didn’t. “But I want to give them to you,” he whispered. “I love you.” And suddenly it was easy. “ These words don’t seem to be enough to describe my feelings for you. I love you so much. I am grateful every day that you came into my life. And that I get to sleep next to you and wake up with you…that I get to spend time with you and watch you and see your mind at work. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” she whispered, and then she was leaning down and she was kissing him and all there was anymore was Oriana. Oriana’s lips and the way she tasted and every warm spark that flew from her. 

“I love you,” he whispered against her skin, again and again and again. “I love you.”

She pulled back finally, warm hands still gently running through his hair. 

“Still interested in that treat?” she asked him. “Even when you didn’t stay in bed.”

“Sorry, but it’s not every day that you dangle a High Lord in the air in front of our house,” he told her drily. 

She just shrugged. 

There was something else that tingled at the edge of his brain though. “Where exactly did you meet Mor?” he asked her and she laughed, pure amusement pouring from her. 

“I met her in a lingerie shop on the other side of the Sidra, run by a friend. But I never got a name,” she said with some amusement.

Oh. 

“What did you buy? he asked her and she grinned. 

“The lingerie for our mating that I never got to wear,” she answered honestly. He swallowed. 

That was...That was… “Will you put it on?” Azriel asked, his voice hoarse.

“Ah, you have requests,” she teased him. He could just nod. 

She seemed more amused than anything by that, but he did go to their closet, picking out whatever she had bought and then disappeared into the bathroom. 

He hadn’t been sure what to expect, had no bloody picture in his mind…but he was sure that nothing that he could have come up with anyway would be able to match the sight of her in the blue lace as she stepped out of the bathroom. 

He swallowed once again. 

“I would ask you if you liked it, but I think you need to have some blood in your brain to answer me, and you don’t. So that is probably an answer,” she quipped as she stepped closer to the bed. 

The arousal that was normally tightly blanked came over him like a wildfire, pouring all over the bond and Oriana’s eyes brightened.

“You are so gorgeous,” he finally managed to bring out. So fucking gorgeous. 

And she was all his, from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes. 

The lace left nothing to the imagination, nearly see-through in places, but it rams and surrounded her in bright cobalt blue, contrasting sharply to her skin. 

It was utterly enchanting. He wanted to reach out and touch as she climbed onto the bed, but she caught his hand into hers, linking their fingers. 

She clucked her tongue at him lightly. “No. Not right now,” she told him softly. “I said I wanted to return the favour.”

Oriana was going to be the fucking death of him, he thought weakly as she worked the loose linen pants he wore down over his hips. He hadn’t even bothered with a shirt after his bath and now he regretted that. Because like this, he was stretched out underneath her, as she pressed a kiss against his skin, every single touch of her mouth on his skin like a spark of fire, of pure ecstasy against his skin…

He bucked against her, but she didn’t let up as she worked down his body, against the muscled wall of his stomach, drew sharp nails against a tight nipple that made him hiss and then finally kneeled between his legs. 

“You tell me to stop when it’s too much,” she warned him. 

It was all the warning he was going to get. 

She swallowed him down without much further of a preamble, full lips stretching over the heart-shaped crown of his cock. His back bowed, a whimper leaving his throat. 

“Fuck, love,” he whispered, threading a hand through her face, not trying to set a pace, just watching her, feeling the tight heat of her mouth against him, the fluttering off her tongue that made him moan deep in his chest. 

Her eyes met his, the flames burning brightly.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

There was something to say to have Azriel at her mercy, reduced to a whimpering mess beneath her. For once he wasn’t fighting her for dominance instead let her do to him as she wished, hearing every bitten-off moan and curse that he tried to swallow down as hollowed out her cheeks and sucked.

He threw his head back, the line of his throat as he moaned, the sweat that had broken out over his body. She wasn’t going to pull this out for much longer. He was still not completely better, still not…

“Stop,” he whispered. She immediately pulled off him, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “I want to come inside you,” he told her, sitting up and pulling her towards him, already moving to bury her underneath him but she pressed him back into the pillows.

To her surprise he actually went, letting her straddle him. 

“By the cauldron you are gorgeous,” he whispered. 

She took that as an opportunity to pull the blue nightgown over her head, the blue lace ending up on the floor somewhere behind her. She hadn’t even bothered with underwear. 

“You want this?” She asked him, letting a hand slide over her body, her heaving chest…“Then you are going to stay right like this,” she told him pointedly. “And you are not going to put any pressure on your stomach.” He looked at her nearly startled. “Think you can do that?” She asked as she leaned forward to kiss him. “Or do you want the shadows?” 

It was a sudden thought that came into her mind but as she could feel his throat bob and him nod, the shadows came out to join them, surrounding them in velvety darkness and pin him to the bed. 

A thought of him would be all that would be needed to let him go and she knew that was the only way how he could even stand that. 

“You say stop and it stops immediately,” she said quietly as she leaned forward to kiss him. 

“I know,” he whispered against her lips. “I trust them. I trust you.”

That was all she needed as she leaned back, placing her hand on his chest, as she got him at just the right angle…She shuddered.

Oriana knew that she wasn’t really ready for him, even when she was absolutely drenched with her own slick, even when she could feel the arousal through their bond, even when… she rocked down, enough to take the head at the entrance of her slick passage. 

“Oriana.”

She relented, taking him in. She had to breathe through it, for just a moment wondering if she could actually do this, if…

And then…then suddenly without a thought from either of them, there they were. His shadows, swarmed to her, right there where they were joined and she couldn’t help the shudder that trembled through her whole body as they slid against her slick and overheated flesh, up and up until they found the bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. 

They concentrated there, nearly bodily, massively, pulsing against her skin, nearly vibrating against it and the only thing Oriana could do was to shudder through it, was to pulse around him as his shadows pushed her to her peak. She came with a whimper, her thighs trembling, her body clenching and unclenching, opening up for him, letting him slide inside her as she collapsed half on top of him, as the pleasure took over for her. 

But they weren’t done with her. Azriel wasn’t, his shadows weren’t either…They pushed her forward and up and then down again. Her nails squabbled against his chest, moan after moan tumbling from her mouth as she started to find some form of rhythm, the shadows wrapping themselves around both of them, around her, around him…

Azriel was hard and thick inside her, hips bucking up against her, even with the shadows holding him down…and still, the shadows seemed to know that there was more. 

They were still pulsing against her, even as she could feel one wisp move, probe the point where they were joined, something that got another gasp out of both of them…She felt them move back, felt them spread her wider. 

She could feel the blood burn in her cheeks as she had never even thought about this, that any of this could be used to make the pleasure burn even brighter for her…

But his shadows managed that. Their touch was cool and soft and still insistent, probing. 

They slid against her other hole and she choked with pleasure, every muscle off her body locking up for a second, even as they wrapped her up and caressed her. They pressed back against the bundle of nerves, concentrating on that until she had relaxed…and then pressed into her there. 

She thought that she was so full that she couldn’t possibly…couldn’t possibly take more, even if she wanted to…but they gave her more before she could even voice a thought of protest, filling her up as far as she went and then filing her up even more, until she was sure that she couldn’t even breathe anymore, the only noise that still left her mouth a high keening whine…as it felt like she couldn’t even breath anymore, as she whimpered and shook and clenched and unclenched…

And then it all came to a point where her body shuddered through another climax as his hips pushed up sharply into her. The pleasure seemingly exploded, burning so brightly that for just a moment she was sure that she blacked out. 

She whimpered as she fell against his chest, as she felt the shadows disperse, leaving her and him alone, letting Azriel#s arms wrap around her back, his cock still buried inside her. 

“Your shadows have the dirtiest mind of all of us,” she finally managed to get out, making him snort with amusement as he shifted her so that she was lying next to him, with one wing wrapped around her like a cocoon. 

“I told you they like you more than me,” he whispered against her skin, his voice hoarse, as she felt his heart beat against her fingertips, just as rapid as her own. And then, completely out of the blue: “You know, you should give me treats more often if it ends like this for both of us.”

She couldn’t help but start laughing, her laughter skittering over both their skins. “I definitely should. We both win,” Oriana declared. “And I love every damn minute I get to spend with you.”

He pressed a kiss against her sweat-damp skin and she couldn’t help but smile as she felt him pour all his affection and love for her into their bond. 

As long as they were together, everything was going to be just fine.

[syluscore]

I’m Your Prize

~sub! Leon Kennedy x Gender Neutral! Reader~

Word Count: 2555

This is my writing for @trevor-belmonts-whip ‘s ask that I have copied below: 

Ghosty, darling, you don't know me but I also VERY MUCH enjoy the Leon S Kennedy man and I have an idea... a request, if you will. This idea came to me recently when I played pool for the first time, and I thought to myself "damn, playing pool involves a lot of bending full over a roughly waist-height table." So. Possibly. RE2 Leon, in a no zombies scenario, he's a police officer man and after a long shift, he's hits the bar downtown him and the other stations boys frequent. He's having a drink, and he locks eyes with a sweetheart down on the other end of the bar (omg it's us, it's Y/N). You two hit it off, and you play a little bit of pool together. Maybe you're new to the game, he teaches you some stuff, but your a natural as it turns out, and maybe you have a friendly little bet. And you know what? I feel like you've got the rest, you can take it from there. I'll leave this prompt in your highly capable hands, do what you will with it 😌.

Content warnings: drinking alcohol, flirtatious teasing, submissive leon, dominant reader, blowjob, praise, sharing cum while kissing

!!!!!!!MINORS DNI! GHOSTKENNEDY IS STRICTLY 18+!!!!!!!

It was a ritual at the Racoon City Police Department; they always brought the rookie out to your bar and made an absolute fucking scene. It was super obnoxious, but it’d been a long time since they’d gotten a new recruit. You watched silently as nearly the entire police force filed in through the doors and you were so thankful it was your co-owner running the bar tonight. You were merely here because your job had honestly become your entire life, so of course you hung around here after hours. There was always some sort of work to do, something to clean, some networking to do.

You couldn’t complain too much about it though, they bought so much alcohol and tipped really well and it’s all business at the end of the day. You wondered what kind of prematurely balding, fresh out of the academy, egotistical maniac rookie you’d spend the night hoping didn’t try and make a move on you. They always did. Wanted to show off for their department and bang the hot bar owner. Marvin never warned them that it would never happen, you two had a running joke on what sort of things they would try to get into your pants.

“Marvin! It’s been forever, fresh meat for us finally?” you asked as the older man walked over to your stool at the bar and gave you a side hug, squeezing your shoulder.

He laughed before speaking quietly for just you to hear, “You’re gonna love this one.” He looked around the crowd before spotting who he’d been searching for, “Hey rookie! Get over here!” A man with a dirty blonde fringe, wide blue eyes, dressed in light wash blue jeans, a blue button up, and a big jacket over top made his way over to you two. “Alright rookie, this is Y/N. Y/N this is rookie. They own half this bar so you’d better be real nice to them,” Marvin introduced you two, patting the rookie on the shoulder before stalking his way back over to the other officers.

“Rookie, is it? Big coincidence on the name or?” you asked him, raising your eyebrows while smirking at him. You noticed the light blush sneak up on his cheeks.

He laughed softly as he shook his head, “I’m Leon Kennedy. It’s nice to meet you.” He held eye contact for a whopping five seconds, before he shyly averted his gaze. You couldn’t help but find him adorable. You’d like to believe you were big and intimidating, but deep down you knew it’s probably just the way he was.

“So, what are your plans for the evening, big boy? Get piss drunk and make a fool of yourself?” you asked him, trying to make some small talk.

“Uh, not really. I was probably just gonna play some pool and then head out when everyone else is too drunk to notice. You play?” he asked, clearly trying to invite you to play pool with him. You couldn’t deny that you found him so pretty, just down right attractive. His innocent personality is definitely doing something for you, you’d never admit it though. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you asked, toying with him further. You felt accomplished with yourself when he blushed even more. “I’m just fucking with you. I’m shit at it, but I’ll give it a go for the brand new rookie of course,” you took the last swig of your drink before grabbing his hand and leading him back to the pool tables.

You grabbed two cue sticks and handed one over to Leon. The last people who played on this table must have been raised with good manners because everything was already set up and ready to go for a game of 8-ball, which is fucking rare around here.

“You wanna go first?” Leon asked, gesturing you towards the table.

You rolled your eyes and gestured towards the table, “Not a chance, rookies go first.” He laughed, but didn’t argue. He bent over and positioned himself, hitting the cue ball and breaking the balls apart. You weren’t really paying attention to his movement, more focused on the way his cute little ass was sticking out.

None of the balls made it into the pockets, so Leon turned to you, “Solids or stripes? Make sure you think long and hard about this, it is a life changing decision.” You pretended to think super intensely about it, squinting your eyes and running your hand down your face. You ultimately chose stripes.

~

Hours go by and you two definitely play the game wrong, but Leon doesn’t mind you making up rules in the middle of the game, he finds you endearing. You’d ordered random drinks on the house for the two of you. No matter how many times he insisted he should pay for himself, you weren’t having it. You two weren’t anywhere near drunk, but Leon was definitely tipsy and had loosened up quite a bit.

“I wager you a bet, rookie,” you told him, causing him to raise his eyebrows. “If I win, I get a prize of my choice and if you win, you get a prize of your choice.”

“Isn’t the bar closing in like,” Leon looked down at his watch, “5 minutes?”

“Leon, I own the mother fucker. I can keep you here as long as I want. Agree to a bet or I’ll never forgive you,” you said, pouting at the man.

“We can’t have that,” he said, throwing his hand over his chest, “what do you want if you win?” You hummed in response as you set the game back up.

You turned to him, “You stay here with me as long as I want and I get to keep you at my disposal.” You wiggled your eyebrows at him suggestively and he couldn’t stop himself from blushing yet again. You’d gotten him to blush over and over again since he’d first arrived.

“Alright,” he said, avoiding your gaze, “I’m not sure what I want as a prize.”

“You won’t win, so it’s not necessary for you to pick anyway.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Fine. Your prize can be me,” his heart skipped a beat. His mouth fell slightly open as he stared at you, waiting for you to tell him you were fucking with him again. “I’m a prize, dammit! You don’t think I’m a prize?”

“Um, well, of course I do, I just,” he became more flustered as he watched you bend over, clearly sticking your ass out for him overdramatically, as you got ready to break the triangle of pool balls. “Fuck it, okay. I agree to your terms.”

“Atta boy.”

~

Your coworker had finished cleaning the place up and had headed out a while ago. The game was so intense, both of you taking it super seriously, both wanting your prize. You were lined up, the only ball left to sink in the pocket being the 8-ball. You were head to head, Leon leaned over right next to you, watching you line up with the cue ball intensely. Right as you went to shoot, his hand suddenly stuck out and poked into your side while he made a loud sound, causing you to jump and mess up your shot. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you whipped your head to look at him as he was laughing like a maniac. “You mother fucker! You’re disqualified for cheating,” you narrowed your eyes at him and he shrugged.

“I’m okay with that, worth it,” he said leaning back against the pool table, arms braced on either side of him as he smiled over at you. 

You slowly walked up to him, leaning over him, causing him to lean back over the table as your hands covered his. “Then I get my prize, right?” you asked. He gulped nervously, slowly nodding his head as he stared into your eyes.

You ran your hand up his arm and to his collarbone, lightly dragging your fingers over the sensitive area, pulling a shudder out of Leon. Happy with his reaction, you slowly ran your fingers down his stomach, feeling it tense beneath your touch. Your hand grazed over his belt, fingers ghosting over his quickly hardening dick. He bit his lip to hold back a whimper. 

You brought your fingers up to the top button on his shirt and looked into his eyes, “Is this okay?” Leon couldn’t find the words, his mouth gone completely dry. He quickly nodded as you undid one button. “Talk to me, Leon. I need you to tell me what you want,” you continued slowly undoing the buttons until they were all done, pulling it open to expose the white t-shirt he wore beneath.

“Fuck,” Leon whispered, clearing his throat before trying to speak again, “I’ll take whatever you wanna give me.” His voice was so sweet and so needy, it sent a thrill straight to your lower stomach. You smirked at him before pulling his button up off his shoulders and down his arms. You could see his little abs through the thin, white fabric and he looked fucking delectable.

Your fingers went down to his belt buckle, slowly running them along it and looking up at Leon. Raising an eyebrow, silently asking for permission. “Please,” he said in that same tone of voice that had you wanting to throw him back on the table and devour him. Your patience was wearing thin as you quickly loosened his belt and undid his jeans. You pulled the pants down, getting them out of the way so that you had a perfect view of his dick pressing up in his boxers.

You brought your hand to his dick and palmed him firmly through his boxers, causing him to buck his hips up into your hand and a moan to slip through his lips. “You’re such a good boy for me. Do you want me to suck your cock? Think you deserve it?” you asked him as you dropped to your knees before him.

“Please,” he looked down at you with big, watery eyes. He really was putty beneath you.

“Please, what? What do you want?”

“Please, suck my cock. I wanna feel your mouth so badly,” he said, reaching his hand out and running it through your hair. How could you tell him no when he looked so hot like this?

You slipped his boxers down just enough for his cock to spring free and sit perfectly before you. You couldn’t help but stare at his pretty cock. He was so big, so long and had a perfect thickness to it. The tip was leaking precum, it looked so good that you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out and running your thumb over the slit. This caused Leon to buck up again, he was losing control and leaving himself entirely at your disposal. Just as you wanted him.

You brought your hand down to his base and slowly, but firmly pumped him, his precum acting as lube. He was struggling to keep his eyes open, but he forced himself to keep them open. He didn’t dare miss a second of your pretty face just inches from his cock, your hands wrapped firmly around him perfectly. 

You stuck your tongue out, slowly running it up the underside, from the base to the tip. You made a big show of rolling your eyes into the back of your head and moaning. Leon could’ve come just at the sight of you alone, he’d never seen something so erotic in his life. A whine left his lips as more precum slowly pooled at the tip of his cock.

“Please,” he pleaded with you as you looked up into his eyes. A tear spilled out of one of his eyes and you almost laughed to yourself, thinking how easy it’d be to ruin him completely. The thought quickly passed as your eyes went back to his cock. Your mouth was watering at the sight and you couldn’t wait any longer to taste him. Plus, he was begging so nicely, of course you needed to reward him.

You ran your tongue over his slit, letting the taste of his precum envelop over your tongue. He tasted almost as good as he looked. Although, you weren’t sure anything could taste as good as Leon looks. 

You finally wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock, gently sucking it. Leon threw his head back, a loud moan escaping his plump lips. You started to bob your head up and down his length. Leon couldn’t stop whimpering and whining as you sucked him deeper each time you slid your mouth back down his cock. If your jaw would allow you to, you could suck him all day. He was so hot like this, the taste amplifying his appeal even further.

You grasped his length with your hand and pumped him in time with your mouth. Drool was spilling past your lips and soaking his pubes. Everytime you pulled your mouth up his length, you’d give a hard suck on his tip, before moving your mouth back down. Each time, his cock hit the back of your throat and you fought the need to gag as tears poured out of your eyes, adding to the sloppiness of the blowjob.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, if you don’t stop I won’t be able to stop it,” Leon rushed out, he was so fucking close. Another few seconds of your movements and he’d be a goner. You hummed in response, speeding up your motions. “Is that okay? Can I cum?” he asked before he bit his lip hard, trying to hold himself back. You replied with an “mhm” as you looked up at him.

His eyes met yours and with one more firm suck on his tip, he was cumming hard. His loud moans were borderline whines as he filled up your mouth. You watched his mouth fall open, his wet lips panting, drool slightly spilling out, eyebrows scrunched together, and his eyes closed tightly as he came. It was hands down, the hottest thing you’d ever seen. 

You pulled your mouth off of him, standing back up and looking at him as he struggled to catch his breath. Once he opened his eyes to look at you, you were wrapping your hand around the back of his neck and pulling his mouth to yours. His mouth instantly fell open for you since he was so out of breath and you pushed his cum into his mouth with your tongue. 

After he came, you hadn’t swallowed it, but rather held it inside of your mouth so that he could see how good he tastes. He moaned as his cum flooded his mouth, slipping back and forth between your mouths, before you pulled away from him and you each swallowed some of his release. 

You ran your thumb over his bottom lip as he lazily wrapped his arms around your waist. “What do we say?” you asked him.

“Thank-thank you,” he stuttered out as he stared at you.

You ran your thumbs over his cheeks, wiping away the tears he’d shed during his orgasm. You brought your thumbs to his mouth and forced it open, his lips instinctively wrapping around them. “Good boy."

~masterlist~

[noizybreadstick]

The V Rising experience is playing it for the first time and fighting some low level enemies in the middle of a dirt road then see a giant looming health bar hauling ass towards you and immediately exclaiming; “Simon Belmont?!?” Follow by getting two tapped for 200 damage and dying instantly

[beevean]

I think I made a similar post a while ago, but I'm having another thought about how different NFCV and IDW Sonic are in adapting the source material.

I would say the game characters in IDW Sonic are superficially similar to canon, and if you let yourself be swayed by the "vibes" you won't notice anything wrong, but the peel soon comes off if you stop and actually analyze the dialogue and expressions. They're OOC in an uncanny valley way, all while pretending to be canon compliant.

In NFCV, somehow, every character from the games was reversed in personality, to the point that after a while it almost looks intentional:

Game Trevor is a charismatic, friendly man who accepts without hesitation to help humanity against Dracula despite being shunned by fellow humans, although he can be hotheaded and act before thinking, which spells disaster in CoD; nevertheless, he earned his title of Legendary Belmont. N!Trevor is cynical, snarky, antisocial, allegedly rude, and holds no love for humanity at first due to his past, although he reluctantly helps to uphold his family legacy; he also has no real successes under his belt until his encounter with N!Death in the very finale, including not being the one who effectively kills N!Dracula.

While very little was established about Game Sypha, we know she is a witch raised by the Church after he fellow witches were killed (she was reimagined into a cold, aggressive knight templar in Judgment, but while the concept makes sense, I don't consider that game canon). N!Sypha is a "Speaker" who, like everyone else, holds contempt for the Church, she has by far the least amount of trauma in the cast which makes her generally sheltered, and her personality is more or less "peppy braincell holder".

Game Alucard is broody and curt, but cares a lot about his friends (especially Trevor, as shown in GoS), and sees his bloodline as a curse to protect the world from, as per his mother's wish. N!Alucard is sarcastic, antagonistic and outright rude, insulting towards Trevor, and most troubling sees vampires as "his people". To say nothing of what their outfits convey about their personalities...

Game Dracula is the terrifying but worshipped Dark Lord, and also a cold, petty man who became a violent force of nature, whose grief is sympathetic but his actions go too far and harm everyone around him, actually best seen in Lament of Innocence with Elisabetha's death. N!Dracula starts off the same, but by S2 he succumbs to depression and becomes so apathetic and ineffectual that his castle can be conquered by external forces, as no one bar N!Isaac respects him, and he seeks emotional support from his servant; worse, he's painted by the narrative as "not so bad after all", best example being the people in Targoviste who get hit by the Idiot Ball and don't heed his warning, so that they "deserve" what they got. On top of this, while game Dracula is eventually stuck in a cycle of death and rebirth that strips away all humanity in him until Chaos' influence on his soul is severed, N!Dracula simply decides to stop his rampage not even a year after his death because his wife was resurrected.

Game Lisa's last words were begging Alucard to not harm humanity, "for theirs is a hard lot", and she clearly cared about her son and his mental wellbeing. N!Lisa is condescending towards her fellow peasants, and her last words were begging Dracula to not harm humans, urging him "to be better than them"; when revived, she also decides to abandon her son to his grief to "give him closure".

Game Hector is a melancholic, sharp man filled with guilt and self-loathing, prone to emotional outbursts and susceptible to the corrupting effects of the Curse, who nevertheless understands that he can be more than a tool for destruction and learns to appreciate the value of humanity, and that's why he runs away from his cruel Lord and finds love in the human world. N!Hector is stunted, a "manchild" so alienated from mankind that he agrees to the idea of culling humans without thinking much about it and never learns how morally wrong he was, passively going along with any proposal presented in front of him, and constantly stripped away of his agency and dignity to be less than a tool for other people, until his final act is choosing to stay with his latest abuser... who would rather kill herself than stay with him anyway, leaving him in the exact same place he had started from.

Game Isaac is flamboyant and larger than life, clearly reveling in his most evil actions and without pity towards humans, but also embittered by his own inferiority complex and desire to be a good tool for Dracula: his descent into madness due to Hector's betrayal and Dracula's death is tragic and horrifying, but the narrative never justifies his vile revenge, and eventually there is no escape for him. N!Isaac is deadly serious, prone to philosophizing, fully convinced to be a good person surrounded by evil and petty humans despite the atrocities he commits, and eventually decides that he wants to live for himself and have agency, rising to a new position of king. They both start out as simps, but that's the extent of their similarities. In fact, N!Isaac has infamously more in common with Hector than Isaac.

(as further note, in the games Hector was favored over Isaac due to his better abilities, although both of them were relatively respected; in the show, N!Isaac is massively favored over N!Hector, to the point where N!Dracula calls the former his friend and hired the latter through a lie because "he's easy to lie to")

Game Saint Germain is a whimsical, unflappable time traveller who tries his best, with the limitations imposed on him, to stop Dracula from being brought back. N!Saint Germain is certainly eccentric and capable of dimensional travel, but he's also plagued by grief over one woman and through it he's eventually manipulated into reviving N!Dracula instead (insert "god is going to have sex again" line here).

Game Death is Dracula's most loyal servant and confidant, affably polite but unswerving in his desire to bring his Master back over and over. N!Death only cares about feeding on souls and was ready to make Dracula suffer undescribable pain to use him as a pawn, all while infamously talking like a drunk sailor. The few things they have in common are their manipulation skills and ability to assume a disguise to blend in.

Game Carmilla is another vampire devoted to Dracula, responsible for his resurrection in CoTM; N!Carmilla despises Dracula and everything he stands for, more or less hijacking his role as the main antagonist.

Game Richter in RoB starts out as a hotblooded, enthusiastic young man eager to fight and uphold his legacy... which leads him to a dark path later on when he succeeds and has nothing legt going for in his life. N!Richter is just as enthusiastic, but starts his story suffering from the trauma of his mother's death that makes him prone to panic attacks, and has little legacy to uphold.

Game Maria is a bubbly, cheerful, innocent young girl who doesn't even understand Dracula's talk about power. N!Maria is a surly, bitter teenager only concerned with political matters.

Game Annette is a perfectly normal woman in love with Richter, but braver than she lets on, shown in the cutscene where she attempts to slit her own throat to reject Dracula's advances. N!Annette has literal godly powers, is unique in the show's environment as a runaway slave, her bravery is actually rashness that often causes problems, and she's mostly furious at the world and everyone around her, especially N!Richter for being "a child" and "useless as fuck" (though this is set to change as they are bound to fall in love).

Game Juste is shown to be protective towards his loved ones to a fault, best seen in the good ending where he wants to deny the truth of Maxim's actions to Lydie. N!Juste abandoned his family after Maxim and Lydie's death, and has completely given up on fighting evil, having become cynical and despondent (it's possible that this, too, is set to change).

As you can tell, some game characters were deeper than others, but that is no excuse. If the writers wanted to, they could have done what thousands of fans do, and fleshed out the characters starting from the base lines canon offers. The elements are there! It's just a matter of a little effort and respect towards canon! But there weren't. Instead, the characters were more or less flipped on their head, turned into OCs in all but name, because it's easier and allows them to reap the praises from the fans who think the games need to be "fixed".

I'm mostly just amazed by how consistent the pattern is. It's as if no character was deemed good enough as they were. As if the show went into IDW's opposite's direction and strived its best to be as far away as canon as possible... and better, ofc.

[taylor-on-your-dash]

SO, WHO IS THE SONG MINE ABOUT?

A couple of years ago I read this comment on r/Taylor Swift about Taylor dating a non famous guy who attended Belmont University.

I started college in Nashville in 2010, and the semester before I started, it was well known that Taylor was seeing a guy who lived on campus. It never made headlines because he wasn’t a celebrity like her other relationships. I have seen lots of random explanations for “Mine,” but many students at the university always assumed it was about this guy because the timeline fit.

At the time, I didn't think much of it. I thought that it could've been possible but still, the theory of Mine being about Cory Monteith made more sense to me.

While I was writing the Speak Now Timeline, one of the most important interviews was the Billboard one:

"Mine" was a turning point in the album’s development. It wasn’t until early 2010 when the album truly began to coalesce. Swift presented "Mine" to Borchetta in his office, just a few doors down the hall from the leather couch in the lobby. "We probably played that song four or five times," Borchetta recalls. "I’m jumping around playing air guitar, she’s singing the song back to me, and it was just one of those crazy, fun, Taylor teen-age moments." And then it got serious. "I said, ‘Keep going,’ " Borchetta says. "She kind of looked at me like, ‘You’re challenging me.’ And I said, ‘Yeah. You’ve found true north here. Keep going.’ " It was some time in the period after that challenge — between February and June — that Swift wrote “Innocent,” her response to the Kanye West incident.

That settled it then, no? Mine was written in late February, after Taylor had returned from Tokyo.

My certainties crumbled a few weeks ago, when @1989worldtour sent me an interview where Taylor says that she wrote Mine on the road, specifically in Texas.

Back To December was written in New York City, The Story Of Us was in Nashville, I wrote Mine somewhere on the road, I think in Texas, actually. (X)

Taylor was in Texas on March 10th (in Austin), March 11th (Dallas), and March 12th (Corpus Christi) for the Fearless Tour. At first, this didn't make any sense to me: Taylor had said that she wrote Mine in February! Then again, she often misremembers dates. I had shelved this date in my mind until I randomly found this comment on r/Fauxmoi while I was researching Starlight and the Kennedy craze Taylor went through.

She dated a guy from Belmont I think because a family friend went there and was friends with him and was there the night they met! “By the water” in Mine is apparently about Mozarts - a coffee shop in Austin on the water where they went on a date. I have no way to verify this because it didn’t happen to me but the family friend had pics with Taylor and stuff because of this guy she was friends with who dated Taylor. This might be the only piece of celeb gossip I’ve ever known haha.

Reply: This is true! He's now married with kids and not at all famous.

The return of the Belmont guy! We have two other sources claiming that she dated a non-famous person who attended Belmont. The mention of Texas cemented the fact that there might be a kernel of truth in this theory. At this point, I took this rumor seriously and chose to investigate further. the next question was, if Belmont is in Nashville and the Mozart bar is in Texas, didn't the guy miss a lot of classes? The answer is... no. If you look at the Belmont Academic Calendar, guess when Spring Break was? From March 8th to March 15th! So even if the guy was in college, he didn't miss any classes. There's was plenty of time for him to fly to Texas, attend the show, going on a date at the Mozart bar and then fly back to Nashville.

There's another problem though: according to the Billboard interview, Taylor brought Mine to Scott Borchetta in late February. We don't actually have a direct quote from Taylor or Borchetta saying that it was February. It could be Taylor or Scott misremembering, It could be the journalist inferring (it has happened before, for example on this Rolling Stone article from 2009, where the author said that Love Story and White Horse were for the same person, for some weird reason). After all, late February and early March aren't that far away. Nathan Chapman, the producer of the song, said that they worked on Mine on and off for 4 months. They finished it on July 21st, so March 10th still tracks.

Now, let's look at the actual bar. on the left, we have a screenshot from the Music Video, while on the right, a picture of the Mozart Bar. they look very similar to me, but I admit that I've never been to the USA, so maybe coffee shops all look the same?

Fun fact: The Mozart bar confirmed that she has been there in May 2013, after the Red Tour show.

Conclusions: Honestly, I believe those people on Reddit, but I realise that the sources are very unstable. What makes me believe it though, is the obscure mention of Mine being written in Texas, and the person on Reddit revealing that they had a date at a bar that casually is by the water. It fits perfectly. I don't have any more to say for now, but it's possible that I'll write a post of how Mine is one of the first post John Mayer song and how that relationship affected the themes of her songwriting.

P.S.: I would advise not contacting these people on Reddit. it's obvious that they're friends with him/know him and they wouldn't say anything to help identifying him. plus, it's not our place to gather information about a person that wants anonymity. it's not cool to doxx random people.

[frankiefellinlove]

I love that this is included in her obit:

“In lieu of flowers, find yourself “a little rock and roll bar and go out and dance.”

///////\\\\|||||\||||||

Adele Springsteen, 98, of Little Silver passed away peacefully on Wednesday, January 31, 2024 at her home. Adele was born Adela Rosa Zerilli on May 4, 1925 in Brooklyn, New York, the youngest of three sisters. She resided in Freehold, New Jersey and Belmont, California before moving to Little Silver, New Jersey.

Adele graduated from Freehold Regional High School, where she was given the title of “best dancer in the class.” After graduating, she was employed as a legal secretary for 25 years at Lawyers Title in Freehold, New Jersey and 25 years at Bohannon Development in San Mateo, California.

On February 22,1948, Adele married Douglas Springsteen at the St. Rose of Lima Church in Freehold. They celebrated their wedding reception at the Blue Moon Inn in Farmingdale and went on to have three children, Bruce, Virginia and Pam. They celebrated over 50 years of marriage.

Adele and Douglas’ adventurous spirit brought them to California, where they enjoyed the West Coast for 25 years. After Adele’s retirement, she and Douglas logged thousands of miles on their cross country adventures.

After Douglas’ passing in 1998, Adele returned to her home, New Jersey, to join her large extended family and enjoyed some of the happiest years of her life traveling and surrounded by her sisters, her children, grandchildren and great grandchildren.

Her son, Bruce, said of his mother in his memoir: “My mom was truthfulness, consistency, good humor, professionalism, grace, kindness, optimism, civility, fairness, pride in yourself, responsibility, love, faith in your family, commitment, joy in your work and a never-say-die thirst for living and life… and most importantly for dancing.”

Her eternally ageless and bright spirit lit up the room. All those who were blessed to know her will never forget the light she brought into their lives.

In Adele’s words, “As long as we’re happy, healthy and we love each other, that’s the whole thing.”

Adele leaves behind an adoring family and many friends and admirers. Her legacy is love.

In lieu of flowers, find yourself “a little rock and roll bar and go out and dance.” Memorial donations may be made to The Women's Alzheimer's Movement. (https://thewomensalzheimersmovement.org/)

Adele is predeceased by her parents Anthony and Adelina Zerilli, her husband Douglas Springsteen and her sisters Dora Kirby and Eda Urbelis; and grandson Michael Shave. She is survived by her son Bruce Springsteen & daughter-in-law Patti Scialfa of Colts Neck, New Jersey, daughter Virginia Shave and son-in-law Michael Shave of Lakewood, New Jersey and daughter Pamela Springsteen & son-in-law Bobby Roth of Los Angeles, California. Her grandchildren Christopher & Marisa Shave, Evan, Jessica and Sam Springsteen and Ruby Roth, great grandchildren Samantha, Nicole, Gianna and Jillian Shave and Lily Springsteen.

[lyranova]

The Golden Dawn Mafia AU!

William Vangeance: The King. He grew up in poverty and was mostly ignored by everyone, until eventually it was revealed to him that he is the bastard child of a major company’s CEO, and was set to inherit it. But after moving in with his father and step-mother his neglect and mistreatment only grew worse. Until eventually he ran away as a young teen and stumbled into a high class bar that was run and owned by Julius Novachrono called “The Grey Deer”, and Julius took him under his wing (along with Morgen Faust, Yami Sukehiro, and Marx Francois) and eventually showed him his true business before helping him establish his own “Mafia Family”.

Zera Cassia: The Queen. She is the youngest child and only daughter of Rika Cassia, the leader of a world renowned Mafia group. Originally she wasn’t supposed to get involved in the “underworld” like her father and brothers, but they all found that she seemed to have a knack for it and so was put in charge of smuggling things in and out of the city of Clover. Many suitors asked for her hand, not because they loved her, but because they wanted her family’s power and influence. So in order to get the suitors to stop harassing her decided to choose a random mafia leader to marry; William Vangeance.

Yuno Grinberryall: The Ace. He is the son of a wealthy CEO and his wife, and is an only child. After his father was killed when he was an infant he was raised by his mother and was set to inherit his father’s company after he became of age. But at the age of 15 he discovered that his father was assassinated by a mafia family called the Zogratis’s, and so after some searching he went to the Golden Dawn mafia family and joined them to find out who killed his father and to take revenge while also keeping his mother and the company safe from the Zogratis family.

Neva Belmonte: The Diamond. She is the adopted sister of William and is the daughter of a popular chef and baker. When she was 7 years old her parents were killed during a robbery and because she had no living relatives was sent to an orphanage. She wasn’t there long as the next day William Vangeance, a good friend of her parents, came to get her and raised her as his little sister ever since. He tried his best to keep her away from the mafia life, but instead she ran right for it, and ended up becoming one of the strongest in the family. She is referred to as “the Princess of the Golden Dawn” by the other family members.

Mimosa Vermillion: The Flower. She is the daughter of a wealthy mafia family, but instead of joining the family like they expected her to, she decided to join the Golden Dawn and become the mafia family’s in-house doctor.

Klaus Lunettes: The Lance. The son of a well to do business man, Klaus was projected to go to college and take over his fathers business once he decided to retire. But after he witnessed William Vangeance and his mafia family help a group a young women that the cops ignored and wouldn’t help, he found that he admired them. So instead of taking over his fathers business, he decided to join the Golden Dawn.

David Swallow: The Joker. He is cunning, sly, and is one heck of a gambler. After trying and getting caught cheating at cards, he was saved from being killed by William and Langris Vaude. To repay his debt, he decided to join the Golden Dawn. Now he runs the gambling houses and casino’s that are in the Golden Dawn’s territory.

Alecdora Sandler: The Jack. He is the son of a wealthy business man and is the heir to his families ‘empire’. When he was a teen he was kidnapped and held for ransom for days, and just as he was about to give up hope of being rescued he was found by William Vangeance and his mafia family the Golden Dawn. But instead of going back to his family, he decided to join William, and he works hard everday to try and repay him for saving his life.

Letoile Becquerel: The Navigator. She is the daughter of computer engineers, and has always been very good at computers and communications. She is the Golden Dawn’s chief navigator and always makes sure that the family is where they need to be and gets to where they need to go. She tends to work off-site, and uses in-ear comm’s in order to communicate with the family.

Langris Vaude: The Knight. He is the youngest son of the Vaude family and is their pride and joy. He initially joined the Golden Dawn at his parents request, since they wanted to keep tabs on William and what he was doing with their money, but after a while Langris found he began to admire the man and started to follow him willingly. He mainly takes care of the business side of things, and leaves the “shadier” side to the others as he doesn’t like it nor does he want to be associated with it.

[roxygen22]

Since you asked me to do the help prompt for Timothee

Now it’s your turn 😊

https://www.tumblr.com/roxygen22/750844187588673536/send-me-a-number-and-ill-write-a-micro-story?source=share

Micro story prompt: Help

Roll With It

(Young, shy, not famous Timothée)

The clock closed in on midnight as Timothée walked down the sidewalk of Austin's Sixth Street. Although the sun had been down for hours, the air was thick and humid, thanks to the Texas heat. He was lost in his thoughts, just moving along with the flow of foot traffic, when he heard a trilling voice call out.

"Finally! There you are! Where have you been?" a young twenty-something chirped. Timothée looked up and around, squinting to focus through the flashing bar signs to see who she was talking to as she waved and trotted toward him. She threw her arms around his neck when she caught up to him and whispered, "I need your help. Just roll with it - please! I think that guy is following me," she said rapidly under her breath.

Timothée closed his arms around her from their open position of shock and surprise. His eyes darted around, trying to find the alleged culprit. He spotted a shady character in a hoodie - suspicious behavior on its own in sweltering 90-degree weather. The man's gait slowed before slinking into one of the many bars when Timothée made eye contact.

"He's gone," he replied, loosening his grip on the [cute] stranger.

She exhaled a sigh of relief and stepped back to look behind her. "Oh, thank God. And you!" she exclaimed, facing him again.

"How did you know I wasn't just another creep?" he admonished. Her lashes fluttered like the butterflies in his stomach as her smile met her eyes.

"I just ran to the first friendly face I saw."

Timothée looked down at his feet to hide the blush he felt reddening his cheeks. "Oh yeah? Uh...so do you. Have a friendly face, I mean." The stranger giggled in return. "Can I, uh, walk you to wherever you're going?" he asked in a brief moment of bravery.

"Hmm, I dunno. My mom always told me not to talk to strangers," she replied, deadpan.

Timothée choked on his own breath. "Oh, right, of cour-"

"I'm kidding!" She held out her right hand, inviting him to take it. "I'm Savannah. But my friends call me Anna."

"I'm Timothée. Or Timmy, for short, i-if you want something shorter," he stumbled, his focus shifting to the feeling of her hand in his.

"Well, Timmy. Now we're not strangers. Walk me to Belmont, and I'll buy you a drink." Anna kept a grip on his hand and started to walk backward in the direction of her venue of choice.

"Are you going to walk backwards the whole time?" he replied through a chuckle.

Anna nodded playfully. "So I can see if anyone is following me," she joked.

Timothée puffed up his chest slightly. "I'll make sure nobody follows you." He pulled Anna back toward himself, nearly twirling her in dance-like fashion to walk beside him. He offered his arm after she let go. "This way, I don't have to save you twice in one night. You were going to fall keeping that up."

"Oh ho ho, so my knight in shining armor does have a sense of humor after all." Anna snuck a quick kiss to his cheek before threading her hand through the crook of his elbow. Timothée was grateful his responding blush was hidden by the dark of the night as they made their way down the block.

<><><><><>

Masterlist

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