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#a father corrupted/possessed by a 'monster'

flokali · 3 months

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♢ I own you, I love you | Tartaglia

warnings: yandere, dub/con, male m.asturbation, violence, threats, corruption, unrealistic sound-isolation, delusional thoughts, possessive behavior (from childe), childe/tartaglia lore-spoilers, canon divergence (maybe?), misunderstanding/miscommunication, manipulative behavior (from ajax) , unreliable narrator (ajax), ask to tag more.

pairing: afab! fem! reader x childe

word count: 10.7k

a/n: after months... here it is;; i'm so sorry for taking so long (tt),, i'll make it up to you !! istg (huhuh)

— 18+

You had trouble falling asleep ever since the day Ajax went missing.

It was meant to be yet another normal day, one that would blend in with all the others – muddled with other memories of childhood. Instead, it became the day your life began to change in ways you hadn’t even fathomed possible.

It had heavily snowed the previous night, which left a brand new layer of pure white to cover the humble roads of Morepesok. Normally, after such a heavy storm, you and Ajax would go over to his house and play inside – making use of the fireplace his father had built and hot chocolate his mother would make to keep warm. You both would steal his father’s diary and read about his adventures across Teyvat, recreating the scenes in your minds with yourselves as the main characters, before sharing your dreams with one another.

You never had the courage back then to tell him your ideal adventure was a rather simple one, while you always dreamt of moving to a less snowy nation, one like Mondstatd or even Sumeru, you were content with peacefully traveling across Teyvat before settling down. You didn’t want to spend your life fighting monsters and exploring the world, you only really longed for a simple life, where you could work a safe job and create a new home for yourself and those you loved. It was fun to imagine yourself on a long, rewarding journey across the nation to complete a request, but you’d rather keep it as just that – a figment of your imagination.

Ajax, on the other hand, longed for the chance to become a warrior. While never too skilled with the blade, always too nervous to even kill an animal, his determination was enough to convince you he’d one day make a great adventurer like his father. He’d longed for the thrill of exploring every corner of Teyvat, roaming the land until there was nowhere in this world where he hadn’t been to. Meeting new people, learning about new cultures, fighting monsters and gaining the freedom that came with being an adventurer; Ajax’s dreams had been clear from a young age.

A part of you, albeit really, insignificantly small, always wished he’d never succeed, secretly hoping he’d leave those ambitions behind with age and become a fisherman or craftsman instead. You’d heard tales of men and women who’d joined the Adventurer’s Guild only to never come back, and even more about those who’d joined the Fatui’s ranks, and you didn’t like the idea of waking up one day to find out he’d passed in a foreign land. It was selfish, you knew that, but you hoped that maybe he’d choose a safer option, one where you two could live together, away from the cold winters of Snezhnaya and safe from the dangers of the world. Maybe you’d both move away from Morepesok, find a quaint town in Fontaine where you’d both settle down and continue being friends, or maybe more, with no worries for each other’s safety - only busy being happy and healthy.

While you were putting on your boots and coat, making sure to layer as many clothes as you could to avoid the freezing cold temperatures that came with such heavy snowfall, you remember feeling an odd sense of uneasiness, a queasy feeling settling down in your stomach making you feel sick and nauseous. At the time you had thought nothing of it, too focused on meeting up with your friend and the taste of his mother’s hot coco, but now, years later, you think it was the Tsaritsa’s way to warn you for what was to come.

You remember nearing his house, confused as to why he hadn’t met you halfway down the road like he always did. It was quiet, eerily so, only the sound of your boots and your labored breath as you battled your way through the snow. There were no kids out on the street, all the adults that would normally be on their way were missing, even the birds seemed hesitant to chirp.

Instead, you find his mother worriedly looking around the perimeters of their humble cabin, her normally neat appearance now disheveled. Her long, ginger hair was half-hazardly put up, her clothes were wrinkled, her coat wasn’t even buttoned up all the way, but she stood there, frantically looking around.Whenever you’d come over, you and Ajax would always bump into one another before racing home to see who’d get there first, but today there was his mother’s choked sobs where normally his laughter would ring.

“Auntie?” You asked, running the rest of the way as you saw her expression, the closer you got the clearer the worry in her face became and you felt yourself grow anxious.

“Sweetie,” she looks at you in surprise, not having seen you approaching - too preoccupied to hear your unsteady footsteps as you struggled to run towards her, you see her blue eyes frantically look behind you and you follow suit, “A-Ajax, he wouldn’t have been with you, right?”

“No…” You shake your head, the previous feeling in your stomach expanding across your body, your head felt fuzzy as you asked, “Isn’t he home?”

“I… I’m afraid not,” She looks distressed at your words, her eyes water as she ushers you inside while still trying to look around to see if she caught sight of her son’s bright ginger hair against the cold white that coated the roads, her hands are shaking as she holds yours and brings you into her home, “Come inside, come inside – it’s too cold out t-there, you’ll get sick.”

Behind you, you hear more people arrive, you’re almost certain you hear your parents as well, but you have no time to ask before the worried mother shakes her head at the curious adults that looked up at her – the atmosphere worsens at the realization he hadn’t snuck out to be with you, she tries to occupy herself by taking you inside so as to not give into hopelessness.

You’re confused, not too sure of what’s going on even as you see adults from around the village inside of the house, maps in their hands as they whisper about the boy’s possible whereabouts.

“Is Ajax… o-okay?” You ask, you start to feel afraid as you process their concerned faces, seeing all of these adults who’d always been smiling and assured look so worried and uncertain sent a chill down your spine.

Where was Ajax? Normally he’d be here, assuring you your imagination was running wild and that nothing was wrong, the empty space next you where he’d normally be felt awfully cold.

Nobody answers you, instead you’re taken to your friend’s room where his siblings were gathered. Their mom, who you've always called your auntie, kneels down in front of you, taking your smaller hands into hers and giving you a weak smile.

“Ajax will be fine, okay?” Her words are meant to comfort you but you feel like they’re more for herself in that moment, “He’s just… gone out for a while, but he’ll be back before you know it.”

You nod, not truly understanding what she meant but feeling as if that was the response she needed to hear.

She gives your forehead a small kiss, you feel a tear fall travel down her cheeks and into your hair but you say nothing as she leaves, noting how she desperately tried to conceal the tears in her eyes; You’d never seen her cry before and it’s only then, as you look at his siblings and the pained look in their faces, that you finally begin to grasp the severity of the situation.

He was missing. Your best friend was gone and no one had any idea where he had run off to.

That evening your parents came over and stayed the whole day with Ajax’s family, alongside the other townspeople who went and came as they searched for the young boy in the woods around the area. Normally, you had to fight tooth and nail to let them grant you permission to stay over but that night they’d been the ones to offer it first.

That night was the first and only time you had a sleepover without Ajax. You and his siblings huddled together in the living room, next to the fireplace as his mother looked over you all. You would wake up every so often to the sound of people coming and going as the search efforts seeped into the night and early morning.

The suffocating cycle repeated itself for three days. Three days, two nights, and one afternoon later, after countless hours crying to your parents in fear of losing your best friend; Ajax emerges from the woods in one piece, but he who returns is not the same boy.

The first thing that stood out was his disheveled hair, he was wearing the same clothes – which were in too good a condition for a kid who’d gotten lost in the woods by himself for three days –, and the hunting knife he’d stolen from his dad now dull as if it’d been used continuously for a long period of time. What shocked the men and women who’d found him was the blood on him – specks decorated his face and hands as he looked up at them from his position near the corpse of a bear, one easily three times his size, he’d somehow taken out.

They’d found him in a clearing close to his house, the smell of blood had been what had alerted the rescue party – they’d prepared for the worst case scenario where the blood came from Ajax’s body, instead they found him to be in good shape even after three days by himself in the wild – perhaps a little too good, for it seemed he’d somehow taken down a beast by himself with his hands and his father’s old hunting knife.

The news of his return quickly spreads, everyone gathered near his home as they awaited with bated breaths to see the young boy; you’re there as he’s reunited with his family, hugging your mother’s leg as tightly as you could.

Rumors spread about him having killed an animal, some claimed it had been a rabbit while others alleged it had been a beast the size of a horse, and you wondered if they had mistaken another kid for Ajax – he’d never had the guts to harm even a fly, you doubted he’d changed so much in the span of three days. But it seemed as if you’d been wrong.

He doesn’t shed a tear, he doesn’t say a word. Not even a squeak as his parents coddle him; nothing at all. The only sounds are hushed whispers as people discuss the absurd situation and gleeful congratulations from onlookers as they celebrate his arrival and well being while giving his family well wishes. Instead, his blue eyes find yours and you’re unnerved at the empty look in them. Where there’s once been a warm light, you found an empty void that seemingly sucked you in and refused to let you go. You felt goosebumps arise all over your body the longer he looked at you. Even as he’s embraced within his father’s arms, his family surrounding him as they cry from relief, it’s only when he makes eye contact with you that, the first time since arriving, he smiles.

You feel a chill travel down your spine as you realize Ajax hadn’t been the one to return that day. You unconsciously nestled closer into your mother’s coat, as if trying to hide from his unnerving gaze.

You did your best to ignore that unsettling feeling, opting to attribute it to the rumors you had heard instead of something your friend had done, you pushed it and as well as any doubts aside as you attempted to focus on the good news; he was here, home with his family and back next door to your own house, and that was all that really mattered.

Ever since then, he’d become more confident. His once timid personality completely disappeared and the days where you had been the stronger one, defending him from his older siblings’ teasing and the mocking from other kids, were now but hazy memories. The roles had switched quite suddenly, not that you minded it too much – there were times where it felt nice to be the one being protected rather than the protector, but it had been quite the surprise at first.

He’d become bolder and more protective, never afraid to throw a punch (and sometimes even more) if he felt like you had been disrespected. It came to a point where you’d sometimes grow suffocated by his mere presence; eventually it escalated to where he’d never let you hang out with anybody he didn’t approve of, afraid they’d hurt you and he wouldn’t be there to defend you, and he’d make sure to let it be known you were his friend first and foremost. Unknowingly, a set of rules had been implemented between the two of you. Rules that stated you were his responsibility to protect and care for, even if it meant it drove others away and left you two isolated from other kids your age.

There were times you missed the Ajax that’d gone into the woods, the freckled boy who was timid and polite – who’d rather be teased by his siblings than hurt even a bug the size of your pinky, you doubt that boy would have picked fights with kids twice his size because they’d made a joke or two that didn’t land too well. But you hesitated to dislike the new Ajax, after all, when it was only the two of you - it was as if that damned day had never occurred at all.

He was back to the sweet, delicate boy who’d blush at your jokes and avoid prolonged eye contact. Whose hand would grow warm from holding yours, who’d confess his feelings to you every night when he thought you’d fallen asleep.

A few years later, once you were both older – now settled into your teen years, he ended up joining the Fatui and leaving your humble seaside village to go to the capital to train as a soldier.

You cried the day he’d given you the news. As overbearing as he could be, the ginger had been your only friend that your parents consistently let you hang out with, you’d spent your whole lives together and the thought of being without him terrified you greatly.

You remember the look on his face, the way he desperately tried to look strong and not let a single tear get away, his hands that had once been soft were now calloused as he grabbed your own.

“I’ll come back for you, I promise.” He’d whispered, his lips near your ear as he enveloped you in a hug.

You don’t trust your voice not to break and so you nod, letting your nose burn from trying to contain your sobs and not worry him more than he already was.

“A-and I’ll write you letters, so you better not forget me,” he continues, and even if by now he’d long since grown taller than yourself – you’re amazed at how small and vulnerable he felt against your frame, “so please… wait for me.”

“Only if you always write to me first… ‘Cause I swear I’ll leave if you forget.” You try to lighten the mood, halfheartedly warning him as if you both didn’t know it’d take death itself for Ajax not to fulfill a promise from him to you. He tightens his arms around you and you feel a wave of nostalgia wash over you as you wonder how long it’ll be before you can both hug like this again.

“I promise.” He laughs softly, the sound warms your heart.

“Then I promise as well.”

Ever since the day Ajax went missing, you have had trouble falling asleep.

When you did manage to fall asleep, a task which took longer than you’d like to admit without external factors such as medicine, your dreams would be strange and cryptic, often times you’d wake up in the middle of the night with a racing heartbeat and a sense of urgency, as if you’d been in danger; you’d learned to hate the images your brain would concoct during your rest. Some nights, you’d dream about that day and what would have happened if Ajax had never been found, other times you’d open the door to soldiers grieving his death; whatever tragic scenario your mind decided to present you, it would always be so realistic you’d wake up with tears streaming down your cheeks and a devastated heart.

This time, however, your sleep had come easier than expected and there were no dreams or nightmares to haunt you. No earthly worries were present and, after such an unexpected day filled with reunions and world-shattering news, you wished to succumb to a never ending night; however, the fates had other plans for you.

As you’re forcibly awakened from your slumber you feel a familiar, pleasant hand gently caressing your head. It felt gentle, their touch delicate and sweet, as if they were afraid any more force would hurt you. If the owner of said limb wished to lure you into consciousness, their touch had the opposite effect as it almost seemed to beg you to go back to sleep and forget the world of the living.

You felt truly content as you laid there, the blanket that laid atop of you was heavy and cozy, a foreign feeling - nothing like the blankets you were used to, and the pillow smelt like an old friend, welcoming and nostalgic. It all felt like a perfect trap set out to catch you, if that were that case then you’d have to admit it was a little too good at its job as you resign yourself to cuddling closer to the fabrics that enveloped you.

If it hadn’t been for the gentle kiss pressed against your cheek, you probably would have never gotten up. You want to complain, already formulating a sentence of indignation and annoyance to throw at the perpetrator, but the warmth left behind by the gesture is cozy and fills you with a taste full of happiness and fulfillment you don’t want to sour. At the feeling of a pair of unknown, soft lips against your skin you become more alert, slowly your consciousness begins to enter the realm of the living once more while you grow aware of your surroundings. Your eyes open timidly, the leftover fatigue from such a deep rest keeping them heavy, it takes you a second or two to adjust to the light and another few to register the man that lovingly gazed down on you.

“Ajax…?” You call out, rubbing your eyes as you wonder if it really was him. You’re almost sure you’re dreaming, as embarrassing as it was to admit, it had been so long since you’d seen him in person you may have simply gone crazy and imagined the man to be here; You’re about to ask him what he was doing here, if he were real at all, but he beats you to the punch with a smile before answering you with a gleeful tone that reminds you of summers long gone.

“The one and only,” he laughs gently as the hand that laid atop your head began to ruffle your hair in a familiar gesture – reassuring you that he was, in fact, a real person and not a figment of your imagination you had come up with to deal with the loneliness, “… don’t tell me you forgot about earlier.”

He teases you, but there’s a hint of worry in his eyes as he awaits your answer; surely, you couldn’t have forgotten. It’d only been a couple of hours and he had been sure to be as thorough as possible so that he left a print on both your mind and body, there was no way you’d forget making love with your soulmate. Just the thought of it sent jolts of anger and frustration down his spine, not at you - never at you, but at himself as he wonders if maybe he’d underperformed and disappointed you to the point you’d try and act like nothing had happened. If that was the case, he was more than willing to go again just this instant to right any previous wrongs.

“Earlier?” You mumble, you wreck your brain trying to think of what he meant but it isn’t a full minute before you realize what he meant. If it hadn’t been for his words, maybe his coat laying on you and your sore body would have been enough to eventually jog your memory. You feel your cheeks grow hot as you remember what you two had done earlier, you’d been so tired by the end you’d fallen into a deep, dreamless slumber that momentarily left you empty-headed when you woke up, but now the memories are rushing in and you doubt you’ll be able to forget the feeling of Childe on top of you for a long time.

Your embarrassed gaze was enough for him to know you’d remembered the dance you’d both partaken in earlier that day, the way your eyes avoided his had his heart swooning and a warm, fuzzy feeling settling deep within his very soul.

He feels himself calm down the more he looks at your flustered face, his whole body light and intoxicated on your sweet expressions; his pants felt so tight as he watched you fiddle with his coat, he wonders if he’d be able to warm you up on the ride back to his place the same way he’d done so previously.

You were absolutely adorable to him, so very weak and fragile in comparison to him – if he wasn’t such a gentleman, he would have loved to destroy you until you were too scared to leave his side. Alas, he decided that you shouldn’t be the one to face the sharp end of his blade, instead, he’ll scar your psyche and those around you so violently you’ll have no want nor need for anything else other than him.

“So, ‘slept well, my love?” He asks, his tone sweet as to never betray his darker thoughts — you didn’t have to know about how deeply he wished to break you until you couldn’t function without him by your side. You nod while suppressing a yawn, blissfully unaware of the chaos that was unfolding due to the man in front of you, and he laughs, content with your naïveté; he missed you oh so very much, “That’s good.”

There’s a warm, almost euphoric feeling that invaded your senses as you both took the time to enjoy each other’s presence; it felt different from earlier, something had changed now that you both had finally indulged in each other’s bodies. It felt akin to drinking a warm cup of tea, comforting and pleasurable, a reminder of home and the feeling of familiarity after a long period of impersonal and foreign coldness.

“Let’s get going then,” he breaks the silence, finally standing up from his crouching position, he gives you one last pat in the head before he starts making his way through your room and inspecting your belongings – or what remained of your belongings, “the carriage will be here soon, it’s only an hour long ride away but I think it’s best we take as much as we can today and send someone to pick up what remains.”

That’s when you notice he’s fully dressed, other than for his cape that was laid on you, as if he was anxiously awaiting the time to leave. You’re confused; why was he so keen on leaving and so fastly – he’d barely been here a handful of hours. Did you misunderstand his intentions?

“What do you…?” You ask, you rub your eyes while you sit up, using the large coat as a cover once you feel chilly Snezhnayan air hit your sensitive skin. It’s then that you can finally look at the many bags and boxes that litter the floor, and the almost empty room you laid in. All of your belongings seemed to have been packed away, almost nothing remained other than old family portraits and gifts from your parents from across the years.

“Huh?” The sight of your room packed into boxes was enough to wake you up, you instinctively try to stand up but a firm hand keeps you in place; you look up and see Ajax looking down at you. Your eyes meet and a chill goes up your spine at the look in his, they look eerily empty. You barely feel the coat slip from your shoulders, too focused on the feeling of his fingers against your forearm and the fact he, as a soldier, could easily overpower you if he wished.

“You’re still sleepy, aren’t you?” He asks, the muscles on his arm flex slightly as he speaks to you - he sounds disappointed as he continues interrogating you, “Do you really not remember?”

You shake your head, trying to wrack your brain for any indications of what he could be referring to; you remember the news about your parents and what happened after, but moving out? You have no memory of such a thing being even discussed, lest he meant —

“You agreed to marry me,” he says, as if reading your mind, your arm is finally set free as he adjusts the gloves on his hands, “and as my wife, you’ll be living with me from now on; I assumed you wouldn’t want to stay… here for much longer, considering everything.”

“Marry you…?” You echo as you watch him parade around your room, sharp eyes taking in what was left of your belongings on display. You vaguely remember his proposal during the first half of your conversation, something about how it’d serve as an obstacle for the arranged marriage – after all, it’s not as if the wife of a Fatui Harbinger’s marriage could be easily questioned or objected to. You had agreed almost immediately, even if you had your doubts about the reasoning behind the arrangement, you’d rather marry someone you knew than a stranger.

You wished you’d thought things through better, waited a bit longer before giving your answer. Clearly Ajax had made up his mind but now, after the shock of the news began to wear off, you felt like you owed your parents and yourself a discussion. Even if you felt betrayed, like their decision degraded you to an object instead of their daughter, you wanted to head their side; if only to get closure for your own aching heart.

Instead of answering you, Ajax turns around to meet your eyes. His eyes had always had the ability to suck you in like a void, they’re never clear - always muddy, like there was a side of himself he hid from you; you could never find your reflection on them. It took you a while to get used to them, to their empty, numb look that sent chills down your spine all those years ago.

The room feels small as you both look at each other, you sit on the bed naked and he stands in front of the door as if he were trapping you in, it’s silent and intimate and it makes your skin crawl. His expression is one you can’t read, maybe all those years in the Fatui had taught him how to make his enemies cower thanks to his presence alone, because the harder you tried to understand what his gaze meant, the less you felt you knew about him.

“Yes, you said you’d marry me.” He states and, even if it wasn't phrased as such, it felt more like an order than a recalling of events.

“I know,” you mumble, “and I… I like you, Ajax, I really do, and I’d love to be with you, but… but I can’t run away from this without hearing them out, you know?”

“You said you loved me.” His expression changes into a frown; Had you lied to him?

He probably sounds childish, his sentences short and repetitive like that of a toddler throwing a tantrum, but the truth was he simply couldn’t believe that you’d even hesitate to marry him; his brain completely short-circuited as he tries to understand why on Earth you’d ever think of giving anybody a chance when you had him.

“I mean, I-I do,” your cheeks feel hot as you’re quick to answer, at least you think you love him, “but… mom and dad wouldn’t just do this without a reason and you know that. I can’t just leave and never see them again without their explanation, even if it’s bad… I need some sort of closure; I can’t accept they’d just do this to me for no reason.”

“As if that changed anything, they gave your hand away for Mora, my love” He retorts, completely bewildered at your words; they’d tried to give you away to some lowlife, they hadn’t consulted you, they were going to spring it up on you one day and expect you to get over it the next, “Does a reason even matter?”

“It does, at least I… I think it does,” you look down at yourself and notice droplets falling down against the coat, staining the heavy leather with your sorrow, you were crying and hadn’t even realized it, “I don’t want to hate them… I don’t want them to hate me.”

He goes quiet when he catches sight of your tears. He freezes, his chest tightens and he feels himself grow dizzy – it’s the same foreign feeling he got when he first heard of the engagement, he feels his knees buckle under his weight and himself sway with every step he takes in your direction. They were beautiful, your tears, so delicate and clear, they shone like crystals when the soft afternoon light came through the window just right; he wishes he could collect them in his palm and weave a necklace to keep with himself, a reminder of your fragile heart he desperately needed to protect.

You looked so vulnerable, naked and crying, covered only by his coat. It was an intoxicating sight, he wished he could take a photograph and engrave it on his eyelids so every time he blinked he’d see this scene play out. You broke so beautifully, it was haunting to hear your voice break into sobs and wails as you mourned the life you thought you had, but it sounded beautiful to his ears nonetheless. It makes him feel insane, it was taking too much self-control from his part not to jump on you.

He sits down once more next to you, shaking limbs trapping you in his arms as he rubbed your back softly. As you cried uncontrollably, he found his cheeks hurting from the large grin on his face; it couldn’t be helped, no matter how much he tried to will it away, the joy he felt as he saw you cry was too much for him to hide.

“It’s okay,” he makes no effort to quell your fears, instead he chooses vague words of comfort to let it fester in your heart, “you won’t need to see them ever again, you’ll have me instead.”

He feels you hiccup, too deep in your own despair to formulate words. Your shaking body clings to his, you felt so scared and alone; How were you supposed to accept such a cruel, unforgiving truth? What could you possibly do to ease the pain in your heart as you thought about your parents and siblings, who had so easily given you away to a stranger. They felt so far away from you, it felt as if your whole life had been a long dream, nothing but a fantasy you were unaware could break any second, leaving you afraid and confused as you awakened to a reality you could have never seen coming.

“Come, I’ll help you get dressed,” Ajax helps you up as he speaks, essentially forcing you to face reality and displace the fogginess in your mind, he’s gentle as he makes his way with you to your closet - you vaguely note that it was still full, unlike the rest of your room it seemed he hadn’t touched it save for a few drawers here and there -, “the sooner you get ready,” he keeps an arm around you while he goes through the rack of your clothes, making sure you stay close to him, “the sooner we can get out of here.”

You nod, your head hurts but you can’t seem to stop the tears.

Maybe he was right, maybe it was a bad idea for you to talk to them; there was truly no excuse, was there? You doubted anything they’d say would take the feeling of betrayal away, they had treated you like an object, completely forfeiting your own personhood and giving you away to a stranger for Mora. No matter how desperately you wanted to understand what they’d done and why they’d done it, the more your head and heart hurt – it was such a cruel, heartless thing to do, to throw away your own blood to whoever bid the highest for them.

You can’t even muster the strength to facilitate the Harbinger’s task of dressing you, your whole body felt heavy as he made sure to layer on your clothes, it was near impossible for you to even stand up by yourself without your legs swaying and your knees buckling under your weight. It’s only due to the ginger’s persistence and strength that you don’t collapse.

By the time you’re ready and boarding the carriage, you’re tired and too drunk in your own misery, to question why, even as it neared nighttime, your parents nor your siblings hadn’t come home yet. Not that you cared, at least not right now, seeing them was the last thing you wanted to do.

The ride home is peaceful, you’d fallen asleep early on and laid beside Childe as he caressed your sleeping cheek and gazed out the window. Your head laid on his lap, broad thighs becoming a make-shift pillow for the ride, a blanket covering your body to keep you warm while you both made your way to his residence in the capital through the cold night.

Bored, deep blue eyes mindlessly gaze at the scenery passing by, his thoughts too jumbled together for him to admire the scenery. His thoughts stray back to your mother’s horrified face as she walked in on you together in bed earlier, he chuckles to himself as he recalls the screech she let out; it felt nice to see her so uncomfortable, but it wasn’t nice enough he’d forgive her for what she’d tried to do to you; Separate you from him.

“Ajax?” She finally gasps out, her hand points at him in an accusatory manner, “What… what is going on?”

When did that boy come back? He’d been gone for years, the last she remembered him was as a young teenager going off to join the Fatui; what was he doing in bed with you? You hadn’t mentioned him once during all these years, she had thought you’d long since forgotten about him. So why on Earth was he laying in bed with you - naked? Had he pressured you to do so? You two had such a close relationship, there was no way you wouldn’t have mentioned him to her if you two were dating - her mind was racing with a million thoughts and all of them left her worried and confused. It’s clear she’s not doing well, her breaths are visibly unsteady, her chest rising and falling unevenly while she audibly gasped for air, she’s shaking so hard you can see her knees wobble as she tries to steady herself against the doorframe; this wasn’t something she could have ever seen in coming.

Ajax couldn’t care less, the whole spectacle was boring and wholly unnecessary; she wouldn’t get to see you ever again, she should be grateful he hadn’t simply taken you home with him the minute he saw you.

“I came back for my beloved,” he answers carelessly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, he makes a vague gesture towards your sleeping form as if to make the point clearer, “can’t have a wedding without a bride, after all.”

“Wedding? You and her… are getting married?”

“Yes, is it that hard to understand? Come on, ma’am, everyone could see that she and I were going to get married,” he scoffs, “you said so yourself multiple times.”

“But,” she looks visibly confused, “that was back when you two were together everyday, Ajax… you haven’t seen each other in years. You can’t seriously think that you’re getting married because you both said so when you were children.”

The audacity this woman had was near parody, clearly she knew nothing about you nor your life and it made him feel sick. She had the privilege to be a constant part of your life during all those years he was away and yet she clearly spent them doing Archons’ knows what, he was growing visibly angry the more she spoke.

“We’ve known each other long enough,” he shoots her a glare, “and I’ve known my whole life I’d marry her, whether we’ve been seeing each other everyday or not - we’re getting married and that’s final.”

“Did she agree to this?” Your mother asks, her voice rising until it was near a squeak.

“Of course she agreed to marry me!” He snaps, his tone venomous; Could she just shut the hell up already?

“Then why didn’t she mention it to her father nor myself?”

“Because we agreed to get married today,” he puts your sleeping body aside, slowly standing up and tying a loose blanket around his hips, “and neither of you were here.”

“Today?” She echos, “You came back today and asked her to marry you?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I did,” he shoots her a glance as he picks up his clothes, slowly putting them on as he goes on, “and she said yes, I think you get the point by now.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” she mumbled to herself, she made her way inside the room, careful as to not wake you up, “there’s no way she was serious about marrying you. You… you’re practically a stranger to all of us at this point, Ajax.”

His pants were on at this point, his blouse now balled into his fist as he tried to control his annoyance. This was starting to get pathetic on her end.

“I will have you know,” he interrupts her, turning around to make eye contact with the woman once more to make his point clear, “that not only have we been in constant communication since I left, she agreed quite happily to the proposal - I don’t understand what exactly is not clicking, ma’am.”

“Of course she’d agree,” she exclaims, her hands flying up in desperation as she continues, “she has liked you all her life; but were you two dating until this point? What even was the relationship between you two; how am I supposed to support her getting engaged with a man we haven’t seen or heard from in years. Never once did she mention you, Ajax, she never spoke of a partner much less a marriage, all her life she’s made it clear that’s one of the least of her concerns and you want me to believe her mind changed in one day because you came and had sex with her? You’re insane if you think I’ll allow it.”

He feels himself freeze, most of what she’s said up until now feels like background noise the moment he finishes processing her words. You never mentioned him to your parents? He knew you hadn’t mentioned the letters, not all of them at least - he’s asked you not to, but never once in the almost eight years since he left had you mentioned him - not even as a potential suitor nor as a lover. That hag is lying, right? There’s no way you’d do this to him, right? You loved him, you said you did when he was fucking you just minutes ago, you wouldn’t lie to him, no.

“Listen to me, I don’t care if you want to get married to her - but there’s an order to how things are done,” your mother shoots your sleeping form a glance, “you could have at least let us know beforehand you’d be coming, you… you should have spoken to us; you know we would have given you our blessing if you’d waited a bit longer. This is the first time you’ve seen each other in years, emotions are running high - at least give her some more time to think this through, you already bedded her… don’t make this harder on her - she was beginning to move on, she’d been planning to move and now you’re telling me she’s throwing it all away? For a man she’s barely seen in years no less.”

“You’re… you’re wrong.” He mumbles under his breath, “You’re wrong, we both love each other.”

“Listen to me,” had your mother’s voice always been so grating to the ear, “she might have said yes to you now but how do you know she won’t regret it? When did you ask her? Today, the same day you come for the first time to see her? You think that under all the emotions that’ll come up seeing you again she’ll be thinking rationally? Was this even a conversation you both had previously, Ajax? How are you so sure she loves you like a wife and not just as a friend?”

His movements slow down, his hands feel heavy as he buttons up his shirt; can she just shut up? What did she think she was doing, lying to get him out of the way? Insinuating you’d ever regret him, what a joke - you needed him to survive.

“I’m saying this not just as a parent but as a wife, you can’t rush into these things, you can’t spring the question up suddenly and not take the time to consider it properly! You… you immediately had sex with her and you want me to believe this is out of love and not physical attraction? You couldn’t even wait for her father and I to get home. You’re telling me that both of you are completely sure of what you’re doing, you want me to believe that? I’m not letting my daughter make such a rash decision in a day -”

“So what if it was in only a day, huh? You’re just looking for any excuse to oppose us getting together,” he’s quick to interrupt her, “because you are trying to get her to marry some old fuck for some quick mora.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You think I don’t know, huh? You don’t care about her at all, do you? Lying to me that she’d never mention me, as if you didn’t know we were together all this time… acting like you care about her when there’s some fucking bitch downstairs you sold her off to.”

“What… What's this about selling my daughter?” “Don’t act stupid on me,” he doesn’t even bother buttoning the rest of his shirt before he’s pushing your mother out of the room and following her out the door, “I tried to be civil, but I’m getting really damn tired of you criticizing us and you keep on lying.”

She hits her back against the wall, she yelps in surprise but the Harbinger makes no acknowledgement of any discomfort he may be causing. Instead, gloved hands shoot up and take hold of her shoulders as he continues going at her; there’s a crazed look in his eyes as he keeps on speaking, getting progressively annoyed the longer the conversation went on.

“We – I, we never sold her off,” your mother pants, she looks up at him in confusion and fear, “who do you take us for?”

“I have the records,” he pushes her down, “there’s no use in lying to me, ma’am – I know everything I need to know.”

“You’re crazy,” she spits out, “you’re fucking crazy… I don’t what the fuck happened to you, but I’m sure as hell now that you are absolutely not getting anywhere near my daughter!”

“Shut up!” He picks her up and throws her against the wall, there’s a loud thud as her body slowly sinks into the ground, he corners her with his body, “Shut the fuck up, you hag.”

“Let go!” Tears are streaming down her eyes as she pleads,“Help, someone help! Please, upstairs… come upstairs now!”

“Listen here,” his eyes are wide open, his posture threatening as he leans over her shaking body, he’s rough in his handling of her and he knows it but chooses not to care, “she said she’d marry me, she said she loves me, she said so and so it is. There’s no debate, got it? If I want to fuck her two minutes after seeing her, I do so, and if I want to marry her after not seeing her for years, I do so. We don’t need a lying bitch getting in our way, you understand that, right? I don’t need you taking her away from me to give her to someone else. She was mine before I left, she was mine when I left, she’s mine right now, and she’ll be mine as long as I’m alive, so you either shut up and accept it or I’ll get rid of you and your fucking mistake of a family.”

“Get off of her!”

Oh, your father was here.

It’s strange to think that at some point, Ajax would have considered him something akin to a second father - especially now as his stomach filled itself with venomous rage at the mere sight of the older man.

“I said get off,” he runs towards the younger soldier, at an impressive speed for a man his age, his hands lunge forward as if to tackle him but it takes one hydro blade’s slash for him to stop dead in his tracks, “I… what do you want?”

Your father looks visibly worried as the ginger brands his weapon, the sight of an unfamiliar vision user threatening your spouse is one that would make anyone think twice before taking their next step.

“Do you seriously not recognize me?” Tartaglia laughs incredulously, “Come on, sir… I was only gone for a couple of years.”

“Ajax?” Your mother nods her head frantically as your father finally puts a name to the face of the strange man in his house, “What the hell are you doing, boy?”

“He’s going on about,” your mother gasps for air, “marrying her and - and, us selling her or something!” The awkward position she found herself in made it hard for her to comfortably speak, even so, she made sure to spit it out as quickly as possible. Her chest is heaving while she desperately tries to make your father understand the absurdity of the situation, the hydro blade in his hand was simply too close to her skin for her comfort - the power of Harbinger was nothing to scoff at and she wanted nothing more than to never find herself in this position ever again.

“We can talk this out,” your father’s hands shake as he tries to slowly approach the ginger, “there’s clearly been a misunderstanding…”

“There has been no misunderstanding, sir,” he laughs, “I know damn well what I saw and what I heard.”

“We would never -” “Yes, you would!” He nearly shouts, but he restrains himself - if only because you’re still sleeping nearby, his whole body shakes as he tries to control the volume of his voice, “And I’m getting really fucking tired of you acting like you wouldn’t, you know? Just admit it and maybe, just maybe, we can work things out.”

“We would never hurt our daughter like that, Ajax,” the older man tries to explain, “please, understand that… let my wife go and we can talk this out properly, please.”

“Talk it out?” Ajax looks at him incredulously, “There’s nothing to talk about if you won’t admit to your mistakes, sir.” “B-but we didn’t -”

“Shut up!” His blue eyes are wide open, the crazed look in them was enough to send a chill down a grown man’s body. Why couldn’t they just admit to trying to separate the both of you? Why were they so desperate to lie? He knows what he heard, he knows they were trying to ruin his chances to be with you. They were clearly trying to get in his way, they had to be conspiring against the two of you - there was no other reason as to why you’d been so hesitant to agree to his proposal, why you’d been scared to see the truth; they were brainwashing you into forgetting him, doubting him. They had to have known he’d come back, there was no way he wouldn’t have, it’d take death itself for him to give up on you.

He couldn’t take it anymore, he couldn’t stand to listen to your parents’ pathetic attempts at covering up their lies.

Your mother’s words die in her throat as he knocks her out with a single blow, it’s by sheer luck the impact against her skull hadn’t straight up killed her. Your father doesn’t even get to react, not even a pip can be mumbled, before Tartaglia is making his way towards him at rapid speeds, the young man’s strength was enough to tackle him down. The Fatui soldier makes sure to use as much strength as possible, all in an attempt to get his opponent to knock his head against something and pass out with as little fuss as possible.

It’s almost pathetic how quickly he’d taken both of them down, in just a few minutes the couple was knocked out cold - not yet dead nor mortally injured but not awake, no longer able to annoy Ajax or disturb you.

It’s almost pathetic how quickly he’d taken both of them down, in just a few minutes the couple was knocked out cold, both lying motionless on the ground, their limbs sprawled awkwardly; not yet dead but no longer able to annoy Ajax or disturb you, much to the former’s delight.

Footsteps could be heard from the first floor as the guests downstairs started getting worried, standing up and roaming around calling your parents’ names - too polite to dare wander into the house but too anxious about their absence to stay completely still, the thick wooden floors muffled the sounds but not enough that the commotion upstairs couldn’t be heard. One of the many benefits of Snezhnayan architecture was the isolation you could achieve in a big enough house, he’ll keep it in mind when he picks a house to start a family with you in.

Due to your house’s size, Ajax wouldn’t have to worry too much about Andrei or his parents hearing too much, meaning he’d be able to keep the element of surprise.

The Vision user knew he’d have to avoid the dining room, the place where the guests currently found themselves, lest he lose control and kill his former subordinate the minute he laid eyes on him, however his reasoning was anything but noble; Tartaglia simply wasn’t too keen on the idea of letting him get away with his crimes just yet.

To him, death would be too soft a punishment, it would have to be a fate worse than, not just for Andrei but every single person who was involved in the scheme.

His gloved hands make their way to check their pulses, both weak but still there - good.

With a satisfied huff he makes his way down the hall and staircase, quick to dismiss his signature hydro blades as he purposely makes his presence known with loud, rhythmic footsteps any soldier who’d served under him would recognize.

Years of hanging out under this very roof meant Ajax knew exactly where your back entrance was, which meant that he could enjoy instilling a sense of dread into the people downstairs without risking being found.

With a lazy smirk, Ajax purposely lets a couple of framed pictures and paintings fall from the wall, his hand tracing the walls and making sure to create as much sound as possible. As he approaches the dining room, he can hear the confused, hushed whispers as someone tries to peek into the hallway but, by the time the young man finally reaches the door to look around, Ajax has long since exited the house as he makes his way to recall the soldiers he’d stationed around the neighborhood.

With a wave of his hand soldiers seemingly appeared from thin air, emerging from bushes and rounding dark corners, soon the Harbinger is surrounded by men awaiting his orders.

“Is the Galkin residency ready?” He asks, making direct eye contact with a shorter soldier.

“Yes, sir.” The man nods.

“Good,” he combs a hand through his hair as he looks at your childhood home, “there’s a knocked out couple on the second floor, the rest are in the dining room.”

“Yes, sir.” A chorus of voices respond, mechanically a group of the soldiers turn around and march into the house.

“Keep it down, will you? If they scream, knock them out,” he adds half-heartedly, “she’s sleeping, so don’t wake her up.”

The leader of the group nods enthusiastically, making sure to echo the sentiment to his men before making their way inside the house.

As their operation takes place, Tartaglia turns back around to address his remaining companions; “Make sure to make it look as realistic as possible, we need the charges to stick.”

“Yes, sir.”

He asks to see the boxes full of fabricated evidence one last time. There are at least six large boxes filled to the brim, but he focuses on one. The one that holds the most damning evidence for the most serious crime anyone could commit in the land of Cryo; Treason against the Tsaritsa. Cold, blue eyes look with a gleeful glint at the falsified letters, penned to look exactly like your family members’ handwriting, there’s more; photographs, bank records, falsified shipment records, and more.

He gives one final nod, officially sealing everyone’s fates. From this moment onwards, your family and the Galkin’s would be charged with treason against the Tsaritsa and conspiracy to overthrow the Fatui. Sure, many others, perhaps even innocent people, will unjustly be implicated but he’ll make sure to pin this on the worst people he can. He’ll get rid of two birds with one stone while he’s at it.

It takes only a couple of minutes before everyone is being pulled outside of the house and led into carriages. It’s a humiliating sight, the ones who were awake were panicked, some even crying, the ones who had to be subdued needed to be carried by two or more people as they were unceremoniously dragged away.

Ajax purposely hides away, making sure to make a mental note of who was being taken and their condition. Andrei and his father are the only Galkin family members out of the four present who hadn’t been knocked out. Your parents, your eldest sister, and younger brother are knocked out - your elder brother, and your other sister are the only ones awake. There are a couple of other people, their partners, and a few he didn’t recognize immediately. In total, there were 16 people taken from your home.

Tartaglia made a point to only reveal himself as they finally dragged Andrei out, the final person out the house. His hands were bound behind him, a confused look clear in his eyes as he desperately tried to understand what was going on. His green eyes finally make contact with Ajax’s, they widen.

“Sir? What is going on -” He’s cut off by a harsh shove from the soldier walking him, he stumbles.

Ajax almost feels bad at the sight, Andrei was a good man - if only he didn’t try to get with you. He was young, unlike the idea he’d planted into your head, Galkin had only recently turned 27 last month, and he’d been a promising soldier until he was honorably discharged after a failed mission took the lives of most of his troupe. However, if you found out about his closeness in age to yourself, you’d probably not have reacted as poorly - maybe you’d even think about giving the fucker a chance. After all, people like Andrei - honorable young men who sacrificed a part of himself for his nation - were always appealing to the masses. But never as appealing as Ajax was to you, he couldn’t be.

The Harbinger turns around on his heels, not even sparing another glance to the arrested individuals, before making his way inside your house.

It’s filled with strangers, their serious faces evident as they set up the scene - their movements calculated as they did their best to create the image of guilt. Even though there were easily five or more people in every room, the whole place felt eerily empty. In a way, he almost feels as if you two were the only people in the world - you, the sleeping beauty waiting for him to arrive.

There’s a spring in his step as he pushes the door to your room open, his eyes immediately find you buried within his coat. He’s not surprised you had managed to sleep through it all, you’d always been a heavy sleeper even during your youth.

He ushers a soldier in with a bunch of empty boxes, signaling for her to start packing your things up.

“Wake her up and you’re dead.” He adds while he makes his way towards you, a cheeky smile on his face as he makes himself comfortable next to you.

The soldier nods, making sure to be as quiet as humanly possible as to not anger the man in front of her - at this point, everyone in the house knew that he was not exaggerating when he said such things. When it came to you, the eleventh Fatui Harbinger knew no bounds. She turns around, making sure not to look too much at either of you in fear of upsetting him.

He patiently waits for the woman to finish packing all she could fit in the boxes. By now, he’s cuddling you in his arms, never allowing you the chance to so much as squirm away from him. It’s a suffocating, possessive hold he has on you, like he was scared if he let you go even for a second you’d leave him.

“Good, thank you.” He doesn’t even look at her - too focused gazing lovingly at your sleeping form. She says nothing but bows before leaving, desperate to leave the room as soon as possible.

The minute she closes the door he pulls himself away from you, making sure to not wake you up with any sudden movements - a concern he seemingly hadn’t had before when he’d been tormenting your parents.

He’d done his best to conceal himself but the truth was that the minute he saw you again, he felt himself growing hard again. Your naked body was hidden enough he didn’t feel the need to kick the soldier from before out, but he knew - he knew that beneath it you were still dirty with him, you were bruised from his handling of you, your neck filled with his kisses and bites. Just knowing that was enough for him to get dizzy, as if all the blood that was meant to flow to his brain had been redirected to his dick. His white pants were tented up, it almost hurts from how erect it was - just the memory of you taking him inside had a wet patch forming in his underwear.

“Look at what you do, baby,” he moans, his voice breathy as he pulls his zipper down, slowly freeing his hard-on, “ah… hah, I want to be inside you again.”

Just the cold air hitting his bare cock is enough to send a jolt of electricity down his spine, he just wants to feel you again, it’s all he wants - to be inside you again and to fuck you until all you can think of his your future husband’s cock. He takes your hand, so much smoother than his battle-worn one, and cautiously shoves two of your fingers into his mouth as a make-shift gag.

He keeps one hand there while the other one slowly caresses his slit, his touch almost a ghost on his skin as he makes sure to tease it until a glob of pre starts to form from how sensitive he already was. He takes a small amount of pre-cum and uses it as lube, making sure to spread it slowly across his tip and down his shaft with long strokes.

He’s trying his best not to bite down on your fingers but it was so hard not to, instead he occupies himself by sucking on them in sync with his hand.

“Mhm!” He accidentally touches his vein, the thick bump was extra sensitive against the cold air and your scent, his whole body twitches.

He can’t stop his hand from gaining speed and force, the longer he’s here with you the more his hand moves. It just not enough, his hips thrust upwards as he gives into himself, fucking into his balled up hand. His tongue laps at your fingers, his lips wrap tightly around them as he tries not to bite into your flesh; he can’t stop his hand from tightening against his cock.

He continues like this for a while, humping into the air like a bitch in heat, making sure to not cum - he didn’t want this to end too soon, he wanted to continue feeling like this next to you. In your room, a place that smelt so much like you it was overstimulating him, the taste of your lips against his tongue was intoxicating - he didn’t want today to end.

“Hah, mhm…” He chokes against his moan; it’s starting to get too much for him.

It’s then that he makes the mistake of looking over to you. Just the sight is enough for him to cum, it takes just a few strokes for him to finally spill.

“F-Fuck!” He can’t stop the moan that leaves his lips, he takes your fingers out of mouth in fear of hurting you but he refuses to let it go, gripping tightly while he lets himself ride the wave of pleasure he feels.

It takes him a second or two until he finally calms down, his dick growing sensitive as he slows down his strokes until he finally stops. His chest feels heavy as he pants, his heart beating painfully loud - he wonders if maybe you could hear it even in your sleep, a part of him hopes so. His whole body is on fire but he thinks this is the best he’s ever felt, just being near you was enough to make him feel like a God.

“I… I love you,” he pants, his fingers almost leave a dent in your hands from how tightly he’s gripping it, “hah… I love you so, so much…”

Almost a little too much.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere ajax #yandere tartaglia #yandere childe #yandere x reader #yandere gi #yandere #yandere male #yandere x you #yandere boy x reader #male yandere #๋࣭ ancient scrolls #yandere genshin imagines

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cillivnz · 11 months

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Hi 👋 I see you write for Lord Dimitrescu (miss a spot, hit the spot was brilliant and I would devour more) and I saw that you are taking requests, what do you think about monster hunter!reader x Lord Dimitrescu? You can take this in whichever direction you like best, but I do have a prompt idea!

Lord Dimitrescu and his sons find a trespasser on their land and Dimitrescu takes her in as his guest/prisoner thinking that she is a clueless lost traveler, not knowing that she's a hunter willing to get close to him by any means necessary, even if it means seducing a monster. Gaining access to his infamous library full of books on how to kill every monster known to man is just the first step, what she really wants is to find out the family's weaknesses and get lord Dimitrescu to let his guard down enough for her to kill him and every last member of his twisted family. Or at least that was the plan...

I just love villain gets the girl/ corruption stories and the idea of someone rolling up into that castle with every intention of wiping out the evil that lives there, but getting seduced instead... 😍😍😍

Love your work!!!

façade of seduction [lord dimitrescu]

PAIRING — LORD DIMITRESCU x MONSTER HUNTER!READER

WORD COUNT — 12.6k+ (i’m so sorry, it’s for the plot!)

WARNINGS — SMUT. eighteen+. AFAB!reader, dark arts, necromancy, the supernatural, mentions of murders, beheadings, cannibalism, vampirism, extremely dubious consent, cursing, extreme gore (blood, cuts, stabbing, mass murder, executions, etc.), reader uses seduction as a tactic, death of family, size kink, age-gap, degradation, pet-names, mentions as well as performed oral sex (talk of male!receiving, performed cunnilingus), fingering, female masturbation, mentions of male masturbation, unprotected penetrative sex, weird & unspecific AU, creampie, cum-eating, breast/nipple play, clit stimulation, extreme descriptions (?), kinda sorta brat-taming.

A/N — whoa, baby! she’s done! firstly, let me just shower this anon with kisses for trusting me such an amazing prompt! thank you, you beautiful soul. i had a blast writing this, and i’m sorry i couldn’t finish it sooner :’( you’re a literal genius, i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing this, and thank you for the kind words! secondly,

i tried incorporating as much lore from the game as i could, majority of the plot is my own fictional work, and the rest [credited to the game] may have been tampered with to suit the plot of this fiction.

Lady Elvira Natalia Stoica is an original character — INCLUSIVE OF ETHNICITY, RACE, COLOUR, BODY TYPE, etc. the only definite characteristic she has is that she is reader’s doppelgänger with an identical appearance, and that her family is of the same origin as The Dimitrescus (Romanian).

Alcina Dimitrescu’s gender-bent version is named Alcides Dimitrescu in my fiction. the credit of his sons’ names goes to @angel-hawthorne ’s comment under this post.

there’s some deliberate references to my other Lord Dimitrescu fiction. read it HERE!

NOTES [excuse inaccurate translations]

"Idiotilor! Așa ne tratezi oaspetele?" : You idiots! Is this how you treat our guest?

"Oaspete? Dar ea—" : Guest? But she—

"Scuzați-vă." : Excuse yourselves.

căprița mea mică : my little doe

cameristă : maid

Pentru dumnezeu! : good god/for god’s sake!

𝓗unters.

Your father before you, and his before him. Monsters, demons, deities; anything of supernatural order, possessing paranormal traits needed to be laid down, and your family was bestowed with the responsibility to do so. They told you, you were god-gifted; possessing an astounding memory. It was as if you soaked in every word you read in journals rich in paranormal history, and carved every word into your brain with your own hand.

Those ungodly creatures fumed at the audacity of a mortal family killing the abysmal aristocracies in the name of slaughtering abominations.

How proudly you awarded yourselves the title of Vânători de urâciuni — Hunters of Abominations. Soon enough, though, the leaders of the Four Houses knew a lesson needed be taught, example be set; actions have consequences, and after all, you were mere mortals. Audacious, dangerous mortals.

The last of the Four Houses needed to be hunted down. Your father, your uncle, your brother managed to wipe out the other key members, before it was about time the reaper caught up to them. Weeks, months went by in weeping for them, never letting their caskets dry, but it was about time you stopped mourning. This isn't what you were raised to do — whom you were raised to be. There was no way in hell you'd let the last Family standing think that the danger was over, not when you found out that it was on their cue, their command, that the guillotine that slashed through your family's head held high, became the inevitable demise of the men of Vânători de urâciuni.

'Fuckers even had the audacity to send the heads back, all nice and packaged, and signed. It was then, you realised, the weight of your name's responsibility lies on your shoulders, now. Mother was too deep in the waters of depression, perhaps, vengeance would serve as her lifeguard, and you sought to get it. For her sake, and yours.

Packing the the remnant of your belongings, primarily, lore on whatever mutation resembled that of what you've heard the family to be; barbaric, and vampiric, you set voyage to Castle Dimitrescu, the Lord's stronghold within the vicinity of a titular Eastern European village; Romania, in other geographical terms.

After weeks on foot, travelling from place to place and squeezing in some good o'l slash-and-dash of monsters into your quest, you reached the abysmal castle. The oppressive aura surrounding The Dimitrescus' colossal abode could be felt miles away from its actual foundations, the monotonous venus blue atmosphere, the trees that have been decayed for decades, peering into your periphery, mortifying the sight of Castle Dimitrescu, even more. You shake off a shiver, determined strides leading you forward. An ominous forest welcomed you, seemingly, the flora responded to every step you took on the onyx soil; you were not too far from the gigantic gates of the castle, deciding to take a breather and assess just what you were dragging yourself into, the massive mountainous foliage providing a safe haven, temporarily.

Rummaging through the contents, page after page, you landed on Wendigo. You knew your ancestors categorised mutations in the same category as a Wendigo, it being the severest form of inhumanity; the mutated man would resort to cannibalism, still humanoid — tall and pale with elongated limbs and pale yellow eyes. If the Dimitrescus were anything like a typical mutated Wendigo, you hadn't thought this through. Then, you remembered your brother's journal.

He was vague with words, often scribbling up a précise at the end of a hunt. Too consumed by your tears, you initially forgot about it, until you realised halfway through your voyage that your mother packed his journal for you, and some documentations recorded by your father and your uncle in their youth, though, you highly doubted you'd be coming across an extinct creature.

There it was — the last page of his journal — the twenty-seventh page to be precise, with triple the pages still empty; clean slates like a reminder of his unlived life, the life that was taken away from him.

You smiled fondly at his handwriting, letting your fingertips trace the scribbles, how deeply the quill was engraved into the paper. You remember laughing at his handwriting, growing up, how your mother would ask him to get a doctorate to match his stereotypical physician's handwriting, but this is all he knew — all you knew. Hunting was your profession, your life and lifestyle, and now, inevitably, your demise, too. You began reading, as I said, your older brother, a master at scribbling précise.

You were unsure, however, when he'd got the time to write down about The Dimitrescus, having never come face-to-face with the tyrants. It seemed your brother's first guess, too, was 'Wendigo', which he scratched down, only to pen it down again, bigger and emphasised, once he enlisted 'Cannibalisme'.

Your heart sank at the etchings.

Even for someone like him, these were too cynical, like he were losing his mind at the mere thought of them: 'one LORD — THREE SONS', it read. 'Blood disease??', 'PARASITE??', 'VAMPIRISM'? That would mean— "Oh." You stood corrected when just below the analysis was a remark, "NO WEAKNESS TO SUN OR WEATHER". Sometimes you swore you and him had the same braincells, always jumping to the same conclusions, which only made the desire to avenge him overpowering.

Your eyes traveled to the end of the page, the last of ink spilled on the worn out pages of your brother's journal, 'NEOPAGAN CULT', 'BLACK GOD'. With widened eyes, and a sinister feeling you couldn't yet shake away, your eyes dart to the next, last page.

There was a symbol maniacally delineated, labelled as the same reports on the previous page. 'NEOPAGAN CULT SYMBOL', and at the bottom of the page, the last thing your brother ever did write was, 'THE CULT OF THE BLACK GOD'. You subconsciously traced the diagram, only to see the graphite taint your fingertips. Your mind was racing two hundred miles per hour, trying to put the pieces of a fatally intricate puzzle together. Your brother's journal, the last of the contents were mere observations, unlike the rest of the pages that are filled with methods of executing generations of monsters.

But for The Dimitrescus, the fact that 'most powerful family' was written with emphasis only made you scowl. You searched frantically in your bag for the journals of your father, your uncle; anything that spoke more about this parasite and the said Black God.

Glancing back at the foot of the palace, you had to do a double take when you saw the guards leave the premises, bread and wine in hand. Their chuckles could be sound from the heart of the forest, even though they repeatedly 'shushed' one another, saying "the Lord" would put their "heads on a stick".

You take their departure as your cue and pace quietly towards the castle. You stood face to face with the colossal gates, doing your level best to push them open, just enough to sneak in, but the big dumb fuckers wouldn't budge. Scoffing, as fate would have it in your luck, you began scanning the perimeter for any safe way in, otherwise, you sure as hell knew how to make an entry.

"Ain't no fucking way," you'd pretty much lost all hope, not realising when your brother wrote down, "tall", it included the infrastructure, too. It was then your eyes noticed one particular stone brick placed slightly outward, and the one above it, and then the one above it, outward enough for you to step on, up, and grip the grotesque grill, securing the premises from people exactly like you.

The first step up was easy, the stone steady enough to carry you, or so you thought for when the second you stepped onto the next one, the one below fell to the ground, shattering to bits. You eyed the stone your foot was on currently, leaping when realisation hit you. By the time you rock-climbed your ass up to the top, the whole way up had crumbled down. You gripped the gothic grill, not taking the maker of it to be a sadist, for it sliced the flesh of your palm even through the slightest contact. You winced, looking back at the broken rocks, perhaps, a good omen; no one would suspect you climbed up the wall, now.

Crossing the grill, you jumped down as silently as a human could, looking back at your newfound enemy, the grill, only for it to be leaking with crimson. You groaned at the sight of your blood, thinking you were better than this, letting some metal get the best of you, but the immense pain from the cut made your head a little dizzy. Shaking the odd feel off, you proceeded leftward, walking further in to be greeted by what seemed to be a courtyard.

No servants, chamberlain nor staff was seen out and about, quite contrary to what one would expect from the functioning of a castle this mighty. Though the odds were in your favour, it didn't seem so; it's quiet, too quiet. Nothing other than a raven's screech and the flap of the wings of a murder of crows was heard for miles. Your steps had quickened at the sight of a door, finally leading you inside. As you inspected it, you sensed a magical aura around it; you could use a spell to crack it open, but that would cause bring attention you did not need at the moment. So, you pull a pin from your hair and apply the cheapskate thief method, and lo and behold, you were in.

Fuck yeah.

Closing the bulky door as silently behind you as you could, you were slammed right back into it, while what felt to be a talon instead of a hand wrapped around the back of your throat. "Well, well, what do we have here?" Said an anonymous voice, cuing laughter from two more.

Fuck, no.

The last thing you remember was a pair of hands squeezing your waist, one choking you, while one hand ghosted over your face, causing a wave of unconsciousness to pass over you.

Chained; you groaned, a pounding ache ringing in your head like an alarm, your eyes blinked, close to a hundred times to get accustomed to your dark, unfamiliar surroundings, while your nose burned with the stench of— burning bodies?

You lifted your head to see three tall figures illuminated by the feeble attempts of a torch. "Alas, sleeping beauty wakes." You heard one taunt, a raspy baritone to his voice, "No fun — I prefer them unconscious," said another with a similar tone. "Well, you're no fun if you don't like to watch the fear in their eyes when they beg you for their life," said the third. The conversation flowed more amongst themselves, quite rude to not have included the meat of the matter — you, but what more could you expect from The Dimitrescu Boys? Oh, you were sure it was them. 'One lord — three sons', you remembered, and no odds suggested they were servants or guards. Not with the way expensive jewels embellished their stallion necks not-so-subtly, like an all-time reminder of their aristocratic status. 'Pathetic,' you thought, it seems no matter the day or age, the breed of "daddy's money" remains as obnoxious as ever.

While they bickered amongst themselves, you took the time to take in their appearances: Handsome, irrelevant. Tall, but no more than an average case of gigantism in most villages. Yellow eyes, but not humanoid — no, fully, thoroughly (so it seems) human. Could this be another variety? Hybrids, perhaps, since Vampirism was in the books of possibility. That could explain their immunity to weather conditions. Their facial features became vivid all of a sudden, and you noticed the blood smeared all over their faces. Paying heed to your iniquity, perhaps even irked expression, the boys smirked devilishly; not charming, dangerously, Lucifer-ishly, but satanically. You weren't into the lighter side of magic like your mother, only using it grotesquely, but you knew aura-reading, even envisioning, like the back of your hand, and theirs was sinister: an abysmal shade of black surrounding them, with occultism dancing between their physical forms in the fiery colour of hellish hues.

"Tell us, what's a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?" One questioned, "Hm, never seen one so beautiful." "Is she even real — ethereal." "Makes me almost not want to eat her." Your eyes widened at the last remark, "Eat her in a different way, I'd definitely." Their shark-like smiles grew wider, subconsciously causing you to back away from them while they inched closer, ready to pounce on you and relish your beauty. "What do you have there, boys?" Asked the deepest voice you'd ever heard, from the other side of what you now realised was the dungeon. You were taken aback at the intrusion, silently thanking your saviour, even if it were the man himself — Lord Alcides Dimitrescu, head of Familia Dimitrescu.

His sons scattered immediately, letting their father rest his eyes upon you. "Food, father," one spoke eagerly, as if trying to impress his old man. "We saw her trespassing in the courtyard, and then she came inside." Spoke the other. "You could have her," said another, "If you save us a taste." Your face lost its colour when a ice-cold hand wrapped itself around your throat, yanking you up with one lift, and throwing you towards the bars between you and the mammoth Lord. His devilish expression— softened? "Elvira!" He exclaimed softly, reaching for your face, but the second his hand tried to snake past the bar, he winced in contact, the metal bar hissing with effervescence. Weakness?

"Idiotilor! Așa ne tratezi oaspetele?" The man was fuming: a flabbergasted expression on the said idiots' faces. "Oaspete? Dar ea—" "She can do as she pleases in my home." The man spat venom like thunder, his hateful expression turned to apologetic and caring in the blink of an eye when he turned to you. "Let her out this very instant." He glared at his sons one last time before turning away and saying, "The longer you wait, the more severe will be the outcomes."

So you were rushed out the dungeon and sent to the guesthouse.

The chamberlain had been waiting for you there at the direct orders of her master. "Lady Stoica, We're truly very sorry for the inconveniences caused to you. The Lord gifts you these gowns as his sincerest apology. He'd love for you to join him for supper once you have freshened up. Step out of your chambers, when you're done, and I'll be happy to take you there." You didn't acknowledge her, only awaited her leave so you could examine the gowns she had motioned towards while babbling courtesies you didn't give a fuck about. It'll definitely take more than four gowns to earn forgiveness for the treatment meted out to you down in the dungeons, but you wanted to give the tyrant lord a little bit of credit, for the gowns were stunning.

As you took in the details of each cloth, you came upon a note, which read: Sweetest Elvira,

Forgive my imbecile progeny, if you think they are worth it, but let us celebrate your presence, still, in my abode. Would you be so kind to accept my invitation for dinner? I have long yearned your company since the last time Lord and Lady Stoica visited.

Hoping to have you with me,

Alcides Dimitrescu.

Your blood boiled at his handwriting. It was the same intricate, royally cursive writing that signed the parcel of your family's heads.

You headed into the bath with murder on your mind; no matter how many times you'd sink into the warm waters, the heat only aggravated your fuming self. It was rosewater, the scent made your mind trail back to days of yore: when your mother would set up baths like this for you, the sweet scent of herbs and nature's warmth filled your hateful mind with nostalgia, then worry. Your mother had the most fight in her, no doubt about that, but that didn't mean she resorted to it easily; always seeing the best in people, giving them countless chances to repent. A generous, godly trait, but fatal in a world dominated by people like the man you were to meet with for dinner— supper, or whatever. You were just glad you weren't being served as the main course.

For now.

As you dried yourself up, your mind replayed the conversations, the characteristics and behaviours of the family. How he called you, 'Elvira'. Yes, Lady Elvira Natalia of Familia Stoica, another noble household your family put an end to. The irony lay in her appearance: the two of you looked alike — no, identical. Perhaps minor attributes set the difference between you two, or the fact that you put a bullet between her eyes — eyes just like yours; it was the reason why the Vânători de urâciuni men hesitated to kill her — sister, daughter, and niece. Not you, never had you hesitated. It's what set you apart in a man's world. If a woman's emotions got the best of her, than lucky for you and unfortunate for the whole world, the only feelings coursing through your mind like the blood in your veins were bloodlust. Blood and Lust, as your mind trailed back to Lord Dimitrescu—

Alcides fuckin' Dimitrescu.

He was tall, so tall, he had to crouch to an uncomfortable extent just to get a proper look at your frame through the dungeon bars. His raven locs and beard: neat as a lord, rugged like a pirate; his sharp nose, his thick, furrowed brows, his luscious lips and those eyes. Those fucking amber eyes, captivating, devouring you like a fox after literal meat. Their hue was as fluorescent as a Wendigo's, then how was he not like one? How is he so devilishly handsome?

Stuck in a limbo, half- hypnotised with hazy memories of the Lord, memories you were yet to make with him, you were left enchanted; like he had cast a spell on yo— "Holy fuck." That's it. It's the only logical reason behind such profound emotions. He had cast a spell on you. It could've easily been the waters, you had bathed in them, let the rose waters soak every inch of your skin. Or worse, his eyes? You had definitely not been that out of it to imagine them glowing in the dark, but if he truly practised necromancy at such a profound level that a mere look in your direction left you enamoured, then you had to come up with a plan, and come up with a plan fucking fast.

Despite your certainty that the only way you'd feel something so unlikely for a man who was responsible for the death of family, was via nécromancies, you still had to be sure. So, you performed an indication ritual. In a vessel, you stored the possible method of enchantment — the bath water — along with the blood of the enchanted. You prick your finger deep enough to get ample beads of crimson out, letting them drop into the vessel. Now, if by dawn, the contents of the vessel turn potently black, your suspicions are true, and the tyrant Alcides, indeed, cast a spell on you, but if it were to remain colourless, than the worst of your concerns has arisen, for you'd have willingly let lust overpower the balance of bloodlust in the weigh of your emotions.

Placing the vessel underneath your bed, you begin dressing. The odds were too ironic not to choose the rose coloured gown for the evening, so you wore it, feeling condemned to. Fixing whatever you deemed necessary, you stepped out of your room to find the chamberlain stationed exactly where she said she'd be.

Her breath hitched a little, eyes widening as she saw you turn towards her, "You look beautiful, Miss Stoica," was her way of seeing 'you clean up pretty nice for a dirty mess in the dungeons', but you paid no heed, letting the woman escort you.

The walk to the Lord's dining area was awkward, and fearful for the servant. There was no denying you resembled the heiress of one of the Seven Royal Families, but you hadn't thought your own victim's identity would play as your decoy in your most fatal mission.

You didn't blame them, you were dumbfounded at the striking resemblance, yourself.

The hair, the skin, the features; it was without a doubt you killed your doppelgänger that day, and though you were never one to follow rituals of lore, it says, 'the slaughtering of one's self' — a doppelgänger — 'is the greatest sign of one's power and control', so it was no wonder since then you had long been feared in every corner of Eastern Europe, but you never earned notoriety, nor make a fuss over the death of The Stoicas, which is why everyone in Castle Dimitrescu believes you to be her, for they think she is what you are; alive.

"We've arrived, madam. If you need me, please don't hesitate to call." She gave you a knowing look, one of empathy? Weird. Interestingly weird. You only nodded, before pushing the glass doors open, and letting yourself in.

Alcides sat with the three of his sons, you'd heard him call them Boian, Cătălin, and Dorin, not knowing which one is which, but you doubt names matter when their death's are destined by your hands. As if sensing you, something you'd mentally categorise among his vampiric characteristics, his head shot up from his sons and immediately those amber eyes were on you, ripping through your dress, eating you alive. His lifeless skin flushed at the sight of you, wet hair clinging to your frame so perfectly, he could smell the shampoo from here. How tightly the dress hugged your curves, how accentuated the rose colour of the gown made your ethereal body. Your plump, pouty lips were rosy like the gown, an even prettier colour, the sudden blush that dared to creep on your face, your determined brows raised a little at the shameless attention you were receiving, your big, radiant doe eyes widening, pupils dilating, and your long lashes batting at his direction.

"Elvira." He rose from his seats, as did his sons, heads snapping right at you to shamelessly ogle at you. On seeing that the look of disgust on your face was directed towards his sons, he shot them a fuming glare, causing them to nod an apology and immediately be seated again.

"Thank you for joining me." He said, softly, awaiting you. You moved closer, deciding to be seated beside the lord, across from his sons. "How have you been, my dear?" His hand found yours, yours minuscule in his clasp. "I had been fine, until certain miscreants accused me of trespassing."

You shot the three culprits a glare, and rightly so. Alcides eyed his sons, clearing his throat obviously when his sons remained oblivious to his cryptic signs.

"We're, uh," began one, "We're sorry, Madam Stoica," continued the other, "We didn't mean for any of that to happen, we just wanted to scare what appeared to be an uninvited guest at the time." "Had we known it was you... well, let's just say your welcome would've been different. Mostly." Finished the last, and your mind immediately caught on to the insinuation:

"Eat her in a different way, I'd definitely."

You could see the man's blood boil beside you, "Scuzați-vă." He growled, and you caught a glimpse of just how much fear he's instilled into his children, for they immediately excused themselves from the table and left with hurried steps.

"Pardon them, I don't know where I went wrong in raising them." He sighed once they were out of sight, rubbing the bridge of his nose. You've never been one to sympathise with an enemy, but maybe sympathy isn't what'll lead to his slaughter; seduction is.

You wordlessly place a hand atop his, earning a soft gasp from him. His eyes searched your face, and when you couldn't help but give him a small smile, he grinned; from ear to ear, letting his pearly fangs rise from their pillowy coverings, his lips, which he soon had to bite to control his giddiness. "Oh, Elvira," his voice was soft, a mere yearn lingering in the warmth of the room. Had it been this hot since you stepped in, or had the flush of your cheeks been indicating otherwise? "You're so beautiful." His other hand tucked the stray strand of hair falling onto your face, behind your ear. You felt a tinge of bitterness brewing in you, whatever relationship was established between Alcides and Elvira, it sure was on the better side of the spectrum.

Were you really feeling jealous of your dead doppelgänger? Well, from the way he looked at you— her — right now, you'd say he wouldn't take to her murder too kindly.

"I swear, you're even more beautiful than the last time I saw you." You blushed, so he enjoyed the new-and-improved Elvira more. "Yet you stay ever handsome." NO. You didn't mean for it to slip, you didn't mean it, you didn't think it — yet, you said it, and he fucking relished in it.

To save you from your embarrassment, your newfound guardian angels, the chef and other servants, brought in food of all sorts. Albeit the sheer hatred you felt towards them, you couldn't help but ask Alcides about his sons. "Aren't you sweet?" He looked at you with fondness, before answering, "The servants will bring them food to their quarters."

Fair enough.

You proceeded eating without another word or glance in his direction. Upon finishing the scrumptious meal, you waited for Alcides to take the lead.

Men like him relished in power, authority, and since he was born into it with a silver spoon hanging from his mouth, it was the only thing he knew.

He looked at you for several moments, an unreadable expression on his face making you more conscious than repelled, as if you craved the validation of his eyes.

He rose from his seat, one hand lingering in the air, an invitation for you to clasp it, while the other grabbed a hefty cluster of grapes by the stem. "Walk with me, darling."

He had to look painfully low to even see your head, once you rose to your height, it helped, but little aid was provided to the giant standing at 9'6.

You held his hand, the sheer size difference had you squirming in your steps.

Just imagine how beautiful sex would be with him, you wouldn't even be able to fit him— "Fuck," you whined under your breath, making damn sure your voice wasn't audible to Mount Everest beside you.

This was the spell talking — thinking; it's got to be. You withdrew your hand, pretending to fix the blouse of the dress, earning a glance from the Lord in your direction, which only stayed for a moment before the calming silence between the two of you was the only thing you could see, until he halted, pulling your attention back to him. "Fruit, my dear?" He waved the cluster, so you knew which ones he was talking about. Come to think of it, you did feel thirsty, and those grapes looked lusciously juicy.

"I don't see why not," you shrugged, not anticipated him to raise the cluster to his mouth and bite a grape off. You watched, mouth slightly agape as a perfectly fine grape rested between his fangs. Even the slightest subconscious movement could rip through the fruit, yet it stayed perfectly safe in his mouth.

He then crouched, now eye-to-eye with you. His eyebrows raised in your direction, challenging you. Challenging you to pull the fruit out of his mouth, and there was only one way to do it.

You bit your lip, you could have your fun, just until you find a reversal cure to his spell.

So, you grab onto both his wide, muscular shoulders, letting your arms cross around his neck. You smirk at him, bringing one hand forward to trace his features. He was so, so strong, to the point you were more aroused than intimated. Your hand reached his torso, you could see how your teasing placed him in agony. Slowly, you let your hand ghost over his pants, and lo and behold, he was aroused; painfully so, and you felt it immoral to torment a man so much (the fucking irony), so you palmed him through his pants, causing his mouth to hang open and out fell grape— right into your palm.

You bring the fruit up to your mouth, Alcides left mesmerised with the way your plump, perfect lips wrapped around it before ripping through it. A moan escaped your lips as the juice dripped down your tongue. "So good," you left out a sigh, and something in him snapped. Alcides flipped you around, you were now pressed against some wall that practically emerged in support of his... expeditions. He plucked two grapes, placing them in his large palm, before bringing it closer to your face. When your eyes widened in confusion, his other hand wrapped itself around your jaw, squeezing your cheeks to open your mouth, before you realised what he demanded and gave it to him; you licked about the fruit, before accepting them into your mouth. Your tongue still teased his flesh, when he pulled away. Amber eyes mere slits with obvious lust, "Now," he began, "You can say you've eaten out of the Lord's palm." He winked at you before walking away.

You steadied your haggard breathing, before deciding to follow him when a certain room caught your eye. It were as if your name was being chanted like a careful whisper, that only sounded when you were left alone. Following your gut, as a hunter as skilled as you would, you push open the heavy doors and let yourself in.

The first thing catching your eye was an obnoxious leather chair that you couldn't help but run a hand over, "Gator skin," you scowled. Though a hunter, you were against hunting — animals, that is, although you'd be hypocritical to say so when the creatures you send to hell are no less barbaric than a creature tormenting in wilderness. Still, you believed in fighting an equivalent, or even better, an apparent immortal.

On the left of it was an fireplace, charcoaled in exhaustion like it recently gave up it's flame and purpose, and in front, was a library, the source of your calling; not colossal, yet extreme in number. The whispering chant grew to a shout, a yearn for each leather-clad covering of ink spilled on paper to be touched by your feather-light fingertips, and only a fool would turn down a beseech like such.

Books of alchemy, instructional journals of God summonings, documentations on every supernatural creature that roamed the planet and how to kill them; even the Satanic Bible was on display, and you explored every single one of them. Fighting the temptation to steal every book with valour, despite how useful each would've proved to be to you in the future, you declined every book until you reached what you sought, rather, what sought you tonight. "The Book of The Four Houses", the spine read. You pulled the book out, not anticipating it to be so heavy. "The Book of The Four Houses", you read again, searching for an author, but not met by any name.

You flip through the pages frantically, in hopes to find any continuance of relevance to your brother's observations, and there it was: Familia Dimitrescu, the excerpt was titled.

"Alcides Dimitrescu was born into the noble Dimitrescu family sometime before the Great War, and through this ancestry inherited a hereditary blood disease, possibly porphyria cutanea tarda. Although his family traced their origins to Cesare, one of the four founders of an isolated mountain village in Europe, Alcides himself lived elsewhere, perhaps through a cadet branch. In the aftermath of the Second World War and the abolition of the nobility, Dimitrescu returned to his family's former lands, which had fallen under the control of a neopagan cult worshipping the Black God.

Prior to 1958, at the age of 44, Dimitrescu was lured by the cult leader, Mother Miranda, to a crypt beneath the village cemetery, where he was surgically implanted with a Cadou parasite. The purpose of this experiment was to determine his viability as a candidate who could become host to a parasitic intelligence at a later date. This experiment mutated Alcides' body considerably, granting him regenerative capabilities, retractable claw-like nails, and the ability to transform into a dragon-like monster and back again. Moreover, the parasite halted his aging process, maintaining his appearance perpetually. In spite of these impressive biological changes, the resulting mutation did not nullify his blood disease. As a result, Dimitrescu needed a ready supply of fresh human blood to maintain his health, and was therefore judged by Miranda to be a failure."

"Although Dimitrescu was of no use as a host, his claim to Castle Dimitrescu was recognized by Miranda and he was allowed to take residence in the village as one of the Four Lords, who would maintain order over the native peasantry while aiding Miranda in Cadou research. Upon inhabiting the estate, Dimitrescu took over his family's vineyard and wine-distribution business as a means of supporting himself."

"Relishing in his reclaimed noble status, Dimitrescu developed extreme caste-based views of society, seeing himself as second only to Miranda herself. He openly loathed the other three house Lords, particularly Karl Heisenberg, whom he frequently argued with. He privately bemoaned that he was not Miranda's favorite, instead being treated the same as all the others. Despite this, Dimitrescu's alliance with the other houses allowed him to rule his castle with barbarous cruelty, regularly taking in new staff to replace those who had been taken to his dungeon to be killed and drained of blood for sustenance."

"Dimitrescu's own experiments with Cadou appear to have been limited, as the only confirmed instance was an experiment begun by Miranda and monitored by Dimitrescu. In this experiment, the corpses of three men were implanted with Cadou parasites. Over the course of about a week, the Cadou produced fly-like organisms which then consumed the flesh of all three bodies. Having assimilated the DNA of these men, the flies merged to mimic their human shapes and slowly adapted their likenesses. Dimitrescu immediately formed a bond with these three men, whom he named Boian, Cătălin, and Dorin, and came to regard himself as their father. They obeyed Dimitrescu without question, and were similar to him in that they were ageless and reliant on vampirism for sustenance. However, they were incapable of withstanding cold temperatures, thus remaining trapped within the confines of Castle Dimitrescu."

That explains the overwhelming warmth of the Castle that had began to annoy you.

"Over the next seventy years, Dimitrescu and his sons systematically consumed the flesh and blood of local peasants and servants alike. The blood of maids was extracted and combined with grapes to create Sanguis Virginis (Latin for "Maiden's Blood"), a traditional Dimitrescu family wine. The female victims, now infected with Mold, lived on as Moroaicǎ and Samcă, while male victims were consumed and then hollowed out to be turned into scarecrows for the castle vineyard."

"Dimitrescu's reign of terror was not without resistance, however, as one villager is known to have stolen a family heirloom — the Dagger of Death's Flowers — in an attempt to assassinate him with its poisoned blade. The attempt failed and he was buried with the dagger in the Tower of Worship to keep it hidden from any others who might seek to harm him."

You snapped the book shut, mind whirling in an epileptic shock, replaying every single word over and over in your head, then images of Alcides, his "sons", Cadou Parasites, Mother Miranda? By the time you realised it, you were hyperventilating, eyes scattering from corner-to-corner, in search of anything less cryptic, anything less 'Once-upon-a-time-there-was-a-beautiful-boy-named-Alcides', and more 'Weakness-to-duhduhduh-kill-by-gunshot-to-the-duhduhduh'.

You threw your head back in unfamiliar pain that originated from your chest, you can't believe plain ink on paper knocked the air out of you, but then again, so did the signed caskets of your family; by the same man you now found out to be ancient and seemingly indestructible, but talk of this "Dagger of Death's Flowers" gave you hope.

Your thoughts of retrieving it were cut short when the doors burst open. "What are you doing?" roared the thunderous voice of the man of the hour, "Elvira." His voice was laced with an emotion you were too out of your head to begin deciphering. His eyes dropped to the book in your hands while awaiting your answer. "Oh, why didn't you say so?" His expression softened, causing you to raise a brow in perplexity. He walked over, the fondness in his eyes returned, causing your tense posture to relax a bit. He took the book from you, and seemingly landed on a page mentioning Alcides' life before lordship. "You really love this book, don't you? I guess it is fun to read a fan's work." He chuckled, flipping through the pages as if he hadn't seen the book in a long, long time.

Huh.

If 'Elvira', too, had been scavenging through the book of Dimitrescus, possibly for the same reason as you, maybe you're more similar than you thought.

When you looked up to his height, his eyes were already on you. "You look tired, my dear. I would be happy to take you to your quarters." He smiled, and your heartbeat was quick to quicken at that. "I'd like that, my Lord."

My Lord.

The walk to your chambers was a haze, all you could feel was the growing wetness in your panties from the way his eyes bore into you; penetrating every inch of you, consuming your conscience with the darkest desires.

Taking out your brother's journal from your bag, you flipped to a fresh page and began filling in your own conclusions. As you wrote, you began to think— not just as a hunter, but as a long deprived woman who had just encountered the most handsome man ever, who just also happened to have murdered her family.

The way he walks, the way he holds your innocent gaze challengingly, the way he looks at you like you're the most exquisite meal, and he's a man starving. You had long abandoned the trepidation and abhorrence you felt towards his cannibalistic lifestyle, instead, feeling a shameful surge of lust shoot into you. You rubbed your thighs together, laying on the bed, but dutifully still, writing every bit of knowledge you gained today; from the parasite, to relations with the leaders of the other Houses and Seven Royal Families that Vânători de urâciuni had already slaughtered, to Mother Miranda, and even what little you read about the Black God.

By the time you covered every intricate detail of a disaster waiting to happen, the heat between your legs was nuclear; the throb, unbearable, leaving you no choice but to act on your animalistic urges. You straighten up, slowly discarding the beautiful cloth that once accentuated your body, now felt like constricted bondages on it.

Once bare, you sink into the pillowy cushions of your given quarters. Something about the whole room smelled like him, but the strongest scent came from your dress, when you were pressed against him. Even both your arousals could be scented from the innocent rose dress, so you tugged it closer to you, breathing in his smoky musk scent, along with your innocent floral one. "Fuck," you groaned, fingers finally ghosting over the mess dying to be made between your legs.

You decided now was not the time to tease, so you coat your fingers in your wetness and smear circles on your swollen clit. "Fuck."

Your bud throbbed in your grasp, desperate to have a little somebody's fanged mouth on it, your nipples hardened the same, aching to have that mouth graze over them, suckle on them, taint the soft, ample flesh with sinister marks. Hell, if it meant one night of succumbing to carnal pleasures, you'd even let the fucker carve that neo-pagan cult symbol on you.

"Fuck!" You weren't thinking straight — no, you weren't thinking at all. How could you? You were under a spell, 'Yes, that was it,' you thought, more so struggling in convincing yourself than anything. Just the sheer thought of a man possessing vile notoriety, relishing in every crime you've fought against; his size, the abnormality of it all. You fantasised about how inhumanely long his tongue might be, teasing around your clit before plunging into your slit.

Oh, that's it.

You shoved your fingers inside of you, whining at how unfulfilling they were, when compared to the hands of him. You were pretty sure his middle finger was bigger than your face.

The only sound to be heard was the squelching of your pussy and your whimpering. You could only pray you weren't audible, not that you minded, because it was Elvira Stoica who'd get mocked, not Y/N Y/L.

Your pace quickened at the thought of him fucking you as Y/N. Would the thought of fucking the enemy be as tantalisingly erotic to him, too? Or would he just hate fuck you, and then feast on your flesh?

"Fuck me..—" You lost your voice when your breath hitched in your throat. "Ju-just like that, mhhm." You were so close, just a bit more... "Fuck me."

That's it, honey, just let go—

"Oh," you moaned too loud to be safe, "Alcides!"

Your legs were shaking, cunt spasming around your fingers while your chest heaved up and down, in a breathless state.

As you rubbed your high out, realisation dawned in on you.

What have you done?

You woke up disgruntled.

Still unimaginably wet, yet thankful for the release, but you hadn't forgiven yourself. Last night was unacceptable, even for someone enchanted. To make matters worse, this isn't even the first time someone put an infatuation spell on you; at least three men before this, but not to pacify an enemy, but to woo a stoic woman with only murder on her mind.

The victim of such a spell for the fourth time, yet Alcides is different. This was incredible necromancy, not like any you've encountered before. It was then you remembered the vessel underneath your bed. Almost too eagerly you jumped off the bed, still somewhat entangled in the sheets, which you threw off swiftly.

You ducked under the bed, the vessel promisingly in the same spot as you had left it. Reaching for it with closed eyes and crossed fingers, you pull it from underneath and lift it to your height.

As you peeped one eye open, then the other in disbelief, you threw the vessel with one swing of your arm. It banged against the wall, before falling to the ground with a typical, screeching metal noise.

This can't be happening. There was no way you felt what you did for Alcides, willingly. The clear contents of the vessel indicated otherwise, though. There was no mistake in your ritual, either; you added what was needed and waited long enough.

"No, no, no, no, NO!"

This can't be fucking happening. You were ready to bawl your eyes out, when one sophisticated knock erupted you. "Elvira." It was him, you knew, your body and heart knew.

When no response followed, Alcides began, "My sons and I are travelling out of estate," he cleared his throat, "I'm sorry for telling you on such short notice, but we won't be back until tomorrow." His voiced trailed off, as if waiting for you to reveal yourself, your reaction, anything, but you're too shaken up to give him any satisfaction. "That's quite alright, my lord." You swallow the lump in your throat, not being able to control yourself and adding, "I'll be right here, waiting." You swore you heard a groan, but were stuck in a limbo by the time Alcides left your door.

You decided all things could be said and done after bathing, so you run a bath and let the scented waters soak into you, replacing the stench of your sins with the perfumed power of blaming Alcides; but you couldn't do that anymore, could you? Not when he was never provocative.

Once you finished freshening up, you grabbed another one of the gowns Dimitrescu gave you. It was black, and beautiful; you were left speechless when you put it on. God, did he really have to make you feel beautiful when you were sent to kill his entire bloodline? "Ah, such unfortunate circumstances." You 'tsked' before doing your hair.

By the time you were done with your makeup, you were certain of today's plan: You were going for breakfast, accessing the courtyard, navigating the Tower Of Worship, exhuming the villager with whom the "Dagger of Death's Flowers" is buried; dig it out, lace the blade with gunpowder, stab all fuckers, one by one, get the fuck out, walk miles back home, and hibernate.

Sweet.

You step out of your quarters to find the chamberlain posted there, just like the day before. "If I say so, my lady?" She looked up at you, the tiny thing was adorable for the fear she felt, yet still wanted you to know that, "You look ravishing." She briefly looked you in the eye before the rouge on her cheeks became embarrassingly obvious, to her. You, on the other hand found her just as she was, adorable.

Upon entering the dining area, she silently took her leave, when you grabbed her wrist. "First Alcides, now you, too?" You asked, flirtatiously referring to both of them excusing themselves from you. "The least you could do is give me company." And how could anyone resist the sultry tone of a stunning woman?

So the chamberlain finds herself dining with you.

You insisted she sat besides you, and despite putting the maximum distance between your chairs, she complied. "So...?" You inquired after finishing your meal, referring to her name. "Oh— uh— Pasha, mi lady." You smiled, "Beautiful name for a beautiful girl." You saw her rub her thighs together from the corner of your eye. "Well, Pasha," you decided to break the awkward silence that hadn't formed yet, "You think you can take me to the Tower Of Worship?" You sipped on your tea, eyeing her while you swallowed, only to see her with widened eyes and haphazard breathing. "Me-my l-lady—..." she stammered, hesitation painted all over her soft features as if you asked her to murder The Dimitrescus herself, or eat you out, you couldn't decide which was more mortifying for the poor girl. "What is it, Pasha?" You sighed.

"Th-the area is strictly off limits— only the... family can go there." She gulped at your growingly irritable expression. "I am part of the family — the Stoica household, in case you've forgotten, cameristă."

"I- yes, mi lady. I'm so sor—" "I don't want to hear it." You interrupted, raising a hand in the air. "Will you, or will you not take me to the Tower Of Worship?" You stared at her, the impatience visible on your face, before you decided to put on the façade you knew best; the façade of seduction. "Please, Pasha," you placed a hand on her bare thigh, her little skirt leaving little to imagination.

"For me?" Were the magical words that got the job done.

So you walk with the head of the staff of Castle Dimitrescu, into the family's place of worship, to exhume the corpse of the only man with the balls to try and assassinate him.

Pasha dropped you off at the foot of the Tower, more than happy to bolt away once you told her it was okay to leave you alone.

You walk up the stairs, and into the end of Castle Dimitrescu.

For a place of "worship", the place had the most oppressive aura, reeking of the occult and unimaginable. You fought your way inside, barely getting in while the air was knocked out of you; perhaps, a barrier of necromancy, despite it, you were able to get through.

You ran from corner to corner, searched every square centimetre of the place, but no place near-resembled the tomb of an assailant. "Fuck, where is it?" Your hands dipped inside your bag to look for something, before pulling it out and beginning your rummaging.

Indeed, you had stopped by Alcides' study before breakfast, telling the maid you 'forgot something' in there during your "time" last night, before winking at her shamelessly and forcing your entry. Sneaking out 'The Book of The Four Houses' was something you could do with your eyes closed.

Your eyes read past every word until you landed where you were made to stop, when the wave of overwhelm hit you last night. "Hall of the Four", the title read.

"The Hall of the Four, known in Japanese as Between the Four Angels (四天使の間, shi tenshi no aida?), is an area of Castle Dimitrescu." The Hall of the Four leads to the Tower of Worship, but this door cannot be opened until the four masks are placed on the Angel statues."

You groaned a string of profanities.

It's like you were set up for failure, and the worst part is, you could hear him laughing in the back of your mind— Alcides. His new abode has become the back of your mind, for he never leaves there.

Tired, disappointed and on the verge of giving up, you leave the Tower. You were a goner without the masks, and despite being in a rush to at least try and acquire them, you walked in a defeated slumber.

The chamberlain met you somewhere near the courtyard, surprised to see you walking out alive. "Lady Stoica—" "Just take me to my quarters, Pasha." You sighed, earning a swift nod from the confused chamberlain.

You walked lost, still, until you reached your room and opened that damned book again. While you scrolled through the contents, a mere note fell off, barely in your grasp.

The handwriting.

It was your brother's, but— it couldn't be. They never got close enough, which is why you're here now, right? They never got close enough. Three of the most feared, skilled men in the world of hunting never got close to one man and his three experiments for sons.

How in the hell did— Wait.

'Mask of Pleasure: Second Floor of Castle Dimitrescu',

that's where you are right now.

Everything could wait, hell, God could wait on the other line of heaven. You needed answers, yes, but something in your gut tells you it's better unknown. All that matters right now is killing him and every last member of his twisted family.

Or at least that was the plan...

You find yourself walking towards any room, with any possibility of possessing a mask. Hell, you had no idea what it looked like, but if it looks anything like the pleasure you'd be rewarding yourself with once you get the fuck out of this place, the mask won't be too difficult to find.

Soon enough you had pulled the place apart — the whole floor — except one room you hadn't set foot in. Alcides Dimitrescu's chambers.

A colossal door; you couldn't look away from the necromantic symbols etched into the woodwork. Had you not possessed the ability to see through such dark arts, you would've stepped right in and be left to deal with a fatality. You pull two vessels from your bag; the Blood of Christ and Vurxelheim, two of the purest substances on the planet, known to melt away all magic, no matter how ancient or dark, and as your expected, it did just that.

Alright, now all that was needed was to open the door, and even an amateur could do that with a pin.

Upon entering, you took in the details of his abode, almost forgetting to close the door behind you. Everything was brown; that's something you've noticed about the whole castle. Monotonously warm shades of brown, dimly lit with heat radiating over every surface. You only quirked a brow at the abnormalities. It soon came to your knowledge that the foundation of this floor is regarded as the "Hall of Pleasures". Kinky.

You looked around every corner, in every possible direction and space, but to no avail. Sighing, your head fell back, eyes closed it absolute demotivation, but when you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was porcelain intricately carved, and hanging from the ceiling; a place where no mortal, but only a 9'6 indestructible titan of a tyrant could reach. It was obnoxious, if anything; placing it in a place so obvious, yet so out of reach — a direct message to show he's better than the rest, quite literally above them.

With no possible way of reaching it, you were still accessing your options when one strong arm wrapped itself around your waist and raised you up, right to where the mask hanged. "If you wanted to swing by my chambers,"

"You could've just asked, mic vânător."

Little Hunter— "Let go of me!" You writhed in his grasp, hand slowly reaching for the mask, still. "If you say so," he shrugged before letting go of you completely, letting you hang from the ceiling like a dreamcatcher. "Son of a bitch! You put me down this instant or I swear to God I'll rip through you and your experiments with my bare hands." "Ah, there's no need to get feisty, Elvira." He said, grabbing you by the waist, and putting you down, despite your kicking and struggling. "I'm only trying to help." He grunted, one hand disappearing behind his trench coat; you were ready to pounce at him, when he pulled, seemingly, the other three masks from behind.

"There you go, sweetheart. Masks of Joy, Sorrow, and Rage." He waved the remaining three keys to The Hall of the Four. You eyed him, and he swore the frowning pout was the cutest sight he's ever seen. "C'mon, they're yours for the taking, darling." He smiled at you.

"What's the catch, Alcides?" You sighed.

It's never that fucking easy, is it?

"One night with me." He simply spoke, taking your deepening scowl as a notion to carry on, "One night to decide what is it that you want, Elvira," "Or should I call you, Y/N Y/L of the Vânători de urâciuni?" Your eyes widened with horror; you hadn't processed him calling you 'little hunter', yet, and now this? This could only mean— "How did you—" "Please. 'You think I wouldn't find out about the mass murder of my fiancé? And imagine the gossip about town that it was a doppelgänger who did it." No, you were careful, he's lying — he's got to be. "Lucky for me, I get the sexier one, now." He chuckled, impressed with his wit.

When you didn't give him the satisfaction of freaking out on him, moreover agreeing to his terms, he rolled his eyes, "Pentru dumnezeu! The first mistake was the rocks you climbed on. They've deliberately been arranged like so, for trespassers like you to easily enter, walk through the courtyard, and into the quarters of my sons for them to feast upon. Then, leaving your blood on the grill? The scent agonised me. It was so difficult to put those three dogs on a leash, having never smelled something so sweet." He 'tsked', "The second mistake was trusting Pasha. It was her hand that twirled in your bath water, mixing the infatuation spell, and it was her, too, that switched the vessel underneath your bed. Very clever, by the way, very thoroughly performed indication ritual."

"But your third— baby, this mistake might as well be a blessing because it's the only fucking thing keeping me away from ripping into you slowly, and feast on your flesh for two whole days; pleasuring yourself, in my fucking castle, fantasising about fucking me."

"Oh, and the guillotine was Heisenberg, I only added the dramatic touch of sending the heads back."

You couldn't bear it.

Bottles full of emotions you've locked away for ages finally hit the concrete of reality; shattering to a million pieces while the man you still find irresistible, had an unimpressed look on his face. "Y/N. I know you want to kill me—" "Oh, honey, you have no idea." You laughed dryly, choking on sobs, but something tells you the impact of your threat didn't go in the direction you wanted because he visibly tensed when you called him, "honey".

"But," he raised both hands in defence, "I wouldn't have gotten you these," he said, waving the masks again, "If I didn't think this deserved a chance— we — deserved a chance." "You think I'll let you anywhere near me after you toyed with me like a plaything? Sent me my father, my uncle, my brother's heads to add a 'dramatic touch'?" "I should've put a more potent spell on you," he cursed under his breath, earning a scoff from you.

You pulled out a dagger from your thigh holster, and lunged at him. Caught off guard, Dimitrescu's eyes widen while you slashed through his alabaster shirt, eager to bleed some crimson into his lifelessly pale skin. "I've had it with you, brat!" He growled, the whack of his palm on your cheek took you back, and you didn't mean to moan.

The cry, it was wanton, and it had Alcides latching on to every ounce of self control he still preserved. "Alright, here's what we're gonna do," he grabbed the dagger from your grasp within a second. "You're gonna take off your clothes, lay down, looking pretty for me like you always do," he walked closer, raising his large hands again in defence. "You following me— okay," he inched closer to you, while you backed away, further into the wall. "I'm gonna feast on this pussy, then I'm gonna finger your tight hole open, and because I'm feeling generous," he grabbed ahold of your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, "I'm not gonna force my cock into your pretty little throat, you're gonna beg for it." He caressed your face, the way your doe eyes watered while staring at him, like glass he could see his reflection in, your agape lips and soft expression made his pants constrict his cock agonisingly. "And the last thing I'll be doing, even if it's my last ever," his hand wrapped around your throat, pulling you to his king-sized bed. Laying you down, and climbing on top like a wolf on a lamb, he says, "Is fucking this pussy till you finally accept that you're made for me."

His mouth latched onto your neck, easily manhandling you at the same time while you writhed in his grasp. "I would rather be dead." You spat out venomously, which only made Alcides smile. "Well, alright. I'd still pound you till you're a mere cum-dump, but I'd surely miss those pretty sounds you made when you fingered yourself thinking about me." He panted against your pulse point, baritone voice hoarse with lust.

He spread your legs, lifting both your hands up by the wrists to his face. "Tiny little things," he kissed the knuckles of each finger, "Unsatisfying, aren't they?" He showered your hands with kisses, "Don't worry, darling, I'm here now." He raised both hands so their size was visible in your periphery, before grabbing your dress and pulling it over your head. "No!" You resisted, causing him to huff, annoyed. "Don't make me tear it off, honey, you look breathtaking in it." He cooed, and your movements haltered enough for him to successfully get it off you. "Good girl— such a good girl f'me."

Immediately his eyes were on your curves, your hips — perfect for bearing the child he was about to fuck into you, your breasts, so ample, all available for his groping and fondling, your pussy almost peering out of the silk panties. "Fuck, Y/N." He groaned, about to rip your underwear off when your pleads interrupted him. "Alci-Alcides please don't." "Hm," his sharp eyes seemed to be calculating his next move. "You say no, but your body," he groaned, pressing the knuckles of two of his fingers against your clothed cunt, "Your body sings otherwise, my love."

Every second passing by was petrifying.

The mortal battle between blood and lust, two things you were the epitome of, qualities comprising your very backbone, now, asked you to break it; bend over backwards and break your back for this man.

The string of pleads you cried fell on deaf ears, which, a part of you was glad for. Maybe if you continued to put the blame on Alcides and his necromancy, you'll actually let yourself live with the fact that your desires to have him ravage in your guts is overpowering, and the carnality lay in the fact that you didn't even care about what happened after. You were serving him your body in a platter, which you had not an ounce of doubt would eventually serve that purpose, quite literally.

"Tell me you want me." He hovered over your breasts. If he wanted to play games, then games you'll play. "I want you..." you whispered, "to go fuck yourself." He would've smacked you again, but again, you would've enjoyed it. What did stop him, however, was the shit-eating grin plastered on your face that showed him you were still on planet Earth, among the living and the abominable.

"Now, why would I do that, when I've got such a pretty girl with her pussy all wet for me?" He mimicked your expression, staring into your soul until you were forced to look away, and your eyes landed right on his clothed erection. "This?" He followed your gaze, "You're going to take care of this in just a minute, but for now," he paused, his large hands turning into talons and ultimately perilous claws. Cutting through the hems of both your garments, he retracted his claws immediately. You flinched when his hands came closer to your hips, "Don't be afraid, mic vânător." His baritone voice gave you absurd comfort, the tone, reassuring. "They can't hurt you, unless I want them to." His pearly whites were like the fangs of a serpent, peering out, bloodthirsty for you.

With that, he lowered himself and dove right in.

You slithered about while his anomaly of a tongue kitten-licked your inner thighs. "I'll tie you to the fucking bed, if you don't quit squirming." He spat.

At your pussy.

You moaned in response, hips momentarily halting from the continuous resisting. "Yeah? You like that don't you, slut?" His fingers spread your slit, before spitting right into your tight hole that fluttered about nothing. "There you go, my love." He cooed in response to your whining, smoothly inserting his index finger into the same hole. A tremor ran down your spine at the sudden intrusion; the stone-cold, thick and long thing digit was a cruel thing, reaching that sweet spot the minute it bottomed out till, knuckle-deep in your velvety walls, and even calling the others to join in on the assault on your cunt.

Accommodating, now, three of his fingers, pummelling your cunt, scissoring you open, was more overwhelming than any dick you've ever taken. Maybe the fact that no one else could amount to the size of an ancient 9'6 vampiric cannibal Lord who's put his and the life of his sons in your palm.

Either you take them away, or let him take you to carnality never fathomed before, and the way he sucked on your swollen clit while fucking you with his fingers was a clear indication of your preference.

"Alcides," you moaned, nearing your high. "Yes, my love?" He replied almost instantaneously, as if finally you complied with a poor man's request. "What is it that you need, darling? I'll give it all to you." He lifted up from your pussy, leaving your clit with a wet 'pop' sound, making his way over to your breasts, while his movements inside you never faltered once. His sharp eyes searched yours, fixated on them while his hot tongue snaked out of his mouth to twirl around your hardened bud. Flesh on fire, you leaned into the feel of his mouth on you. "Fuck me, Alcides." You cried in defeat. How the mighty have fallen prey to the vultures of lust, mere carcasses of seduction.

Alas, the façade of seduction had backfired, and you had fucked up royally.

Upon hearing the trumpets of his victory through your pretty mouth, Alcides would've been a fool to refuse you. Eagerly he undoes his pants, letting his throbbing cock spring free. Your eyes damn-near saw your brain at the sight of the thing. "Alci— I can't." Seeing you panic, he began getting off on it. "You can, and you will." He hissed when his calloused thumb rubbed against the slit of his cock.

"Oh, I wanna feel that throat squeezing around me." He pumped faster, fucking his fist to the thought of you like many a night before. "But this pussy will do," "For now." He said, rubbing his length fervently against your slit, lathering your wetness on his leaking tip, enthusing a sweet mix of your cum, much more of which was to come.

"Won't be... able... to..." You spoke in between moans gaps the tip was in. The stretch was abnormal, ungodly, unnatural — exactly what you're deemed to kill. "You'll take it, mic vânător." He began to push more in, knocking the air out of your body. "Stop clenching," he groaned deeply, the sound resonating in your core. Nothing could've prepared you for this intrusion, so agonisingly painful, yet deliciously filling.

"You've... got to s.—stop... clenching." He pushed in the whole length, deadening your movements. You'd think he'd fear breaking you, but no. Alcides fuckin' Dimitrescu was thrilled to see you finally submitting, even if your body paralysed in the fear of being ripped open, your back arched, breasts stopped wavering in the air, and your breath caught in your throat.

Only when the loudest, most pornographic moan left your lips did Alcides begin to thrust into you, already drunk off of your pussy, ecstatic in ecstasy.

Despite the slow speed, his thrusts were deep enough for legs to start shaking. To your shock, he lifted your legs and since they couldn't reach his shoulder's that stood almost as stall as the fucking ceiling, they were swinging across his forearms, and at this angle he slammed his hips into you.

You screamed, damage was made to your vocal chords as well as your walls when the penetration quickly turned into pummelling, giving you zero time to adjust to the mammoth size of it. On seeing your closed eyes, Alcides smacked your face, gentler than before, yet enough for your eyes to shoot open, face contorting in pleasure at his gesture that was now among your favourites. "Don't let those pretty eyes waver away." His grip on your hips was threateningly tight. "Look into my eyes, or there," his eyes motioned downwards, and it was then you saw the immense bump in your belly. Your eyes widened in profound horror. He had most certainly torn your insides apart, you were sure.

"See how big it is— how well you still take it?" He babbled while vigourously pushing into your poor cunt. "Pl-lease, go... easy on—me." You managed to plead out, but nothing counts stop the possessed Lord. Finally, he got the chance to feel your insides, and there was no way in hell, he thought, he'd let you off easy. Not when you're the biggest threat to his existence, let you wrap so tightly around his monster cock.

Dumbfounded, cock-drunk, utterly paralysed in place, you had no choice but try to get accustomed to the relentless attack your pussy had to endure.

Just when you thought your demise would be the sole pleasure you were forced to undergo, two of his fingers rubbed fervent figure-eights on your bundle of nerves that ached with bloodrush.

You babbled incoherences, whimpering, shaking your head repeatedly when he lifted your lifeless body, just the tip of his cock inside, and switched positions with you. Now, he laid, somewhat upright, hands crossed behind his head. Leisurely eyeing you, while you struggled to breath with his entire length upright inside your walls, his tip pressing against your cervix like an enemy threatening to break down your barriers; your walls.

"M-move... please..." you mewled, causing him to 'tsk' with disdain. "Help yourself, căprița mea mică." He raised a brow, mouth curling viciously into a smirk, "Use me as you please." Your shaky hands reached for his broad shoulders, raising then steadying your hovering self over his cock. His eyebrows wiggled in amusement, awaiting your move comically, until the feel of your walls struggling to take in his tip pulled him back into a trance of pleasure.

He let out an animalistic groan that lingered to be what you swore was a whimper, so you did your best to lift your tiring legs and plop down on his cock, upright and pulsating inside you. "I could fuck this pussy every moment for the remnant of my days." He smiled at you, large palms resting on your hot ass, slowly caressing your curves. The gesture, so contradicting to the impaling you were enduring, nearly knocked the air out of you, for when your perplexed eyes met his expectedly ravenous ones, you were shocked to see them replaced by fondness.

"If I'm lucky enough to live," he paused, hands squeezing your ass before sitting upright, pulling you with him. You moaned wantonly when you felt his cock deeper. "Let this be how we wake, how we sleep — in each other's embrace." His eyes widened, as did yours, like deer caught in front of headlights. The feigning look of innocence on his face sent your core spiralling with erotic ache, when his face, not once breaking eye contact, inched forward to stop just in front of your nipple.

You shrieked when he took complete control, earning a whine from you as you just got the hang of dominance, but when you noticed the hellbent gleam of carnality in his eyes, you knew you were in for a ride.

He suckled on your bud while fucking through you. "You're close, aren't you?" He pulled away from your nipple with a pop sound, resting his bearded face on your breast, "I know you are. 'Can feel her tightening around my cock." He chuckled, mouth back on the hardened bud in his presence. You sneaked a hand down and rubbed your bundle of nerves, fervently.

His large fingers, jealous of your own, were quick to replace them in driving you to your high. You were practically spoon-fed the orgasm, that took a toll on your fragile body.

No emotion overwhelmed every hemisphere, every neurone of your brain like ever before. Your mind went spiralling away, like an eternal shore hugging the lunar tide for the first time a night, your shore's dry spell was over, and your body did it's best to fight the feeling and drive a stake through his lustful heart, but your body was worn out; used as any lucky ragdoll would be.

The overstimulation sent you back to Earth at godspeed. His movements were sloppy, but not faltering, and soon enough, he let his seed bathe your walls a pearly shade. "Take it all— carry my seed." He moaned, absentmindedly.

When you plopped onto his shoulders, he lifted you up single-handedly and laid between your legs. You instinctively closed them; despite being too fucked out of it, you still cringed at how both your cum leaked out of you, ruining the sheets and everything between.

"Alcides, no—"

You were a second too late in pleading, for he grabbed you by the legs, placed them on his shoulders, and stood up.

You hung upside down, your pussy a stone's throw away from the man's smirked lips. By now, you knew what was about to unfold, yet the first lick to your cum-coated lips sent shockwaves down your spine (rather up?).

He moaned against your clit, the vibrations causing you to writhe in his grasp. His tongue licked your pussy clean, the circular motions on your clit, to the long licks from your clit to slit.

It's crazy how an anomaly like him became your exception — the hunter's favourite prey. With a tongue so skilled, you weren't to be blamed for succumbing to your current situation; not like you could do much in the grasp of a monster like him.

You're lucky his cock didn't fuck a new hole into you.

When his large palms let go of your hips, you wrapped your legs around his neck instinctively. You could've used his vulnerability to your advantage, had your mind not clouded in the ecstasy of overstimulation. It seemed like Alcides thought the same, for he smirked devilishly to himself, letting his talons ghost about your flesh, before slightly retracting to pinch and squeeze your nipples. He placed open mouthed kisses on your clit that not once stopped throbbing.

You shook in agony, his mouth worked tantalisingly slow on your burning hot cunt. Deciding to show mercy, an unlikely thing for the tyrant Lord, he smiled at your frame hanging tightly from his; your breasts heaving under his touch, obstructing his view of your pleasure-stricken face.

Lord Dimitrescu plunged his tongue inside you, placing one hand on your hip to push and grind you against his tongue, and you swore every atom in your body was swollen with pleasure.

"No... n-no more..." Your beseech was deemed adorable by the man tongue-fucking you. He pulled out, slithery wet tongue, coated in your juices, leaving you breathless. He lapped at your wetness, growing per minute as he so desperately coaxed more out of you.

Dumbfounded, pussy-drunk, utterly engrossed in place, you had no choice but try to get accustomed to the relentless devouring of your pussy at the hands of your sworn enemy.

One of his hands snaked to your clit, the ever fervent pace of his movements drove you to madness. Your body stilled, eyes rolled back, breath hitched, and it was when his tongue flicked inside of you that you realised that you were doomed.

After drinking your juices clean, Alcides placed you gently on his bed, and by the time he laid next to you, you had already wandered off in dreams.

Your mother awaited your letters.

Perhaps, she'll be rejoiced to hear you alive and well, or maybe she'll be mortified that you're alive and well, and The Dimitrescus live and breath, still. Either way, she and the rest of the world better get used to you signing every final letter as 'Lady Dimitrescu'.

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ystrike1 · 5 months

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Savage Castle - By 별보라 (8.5/10)

The false King is weak. Bad for the nation, but never fear. The true King has not given up. He is in hiding. He lives as a servant, and his master is a pathetic woman. A stupid young girl who is obsessively possessive. Staying by her side was the perfect cover. Whoops. He's madly, mutually obsessed too.

Else tried very hard to be kind, but it never worked out for her. Being a good daughter brought her only pain, and suffering. Her brother, the heir, died. Her mother, her father's beloved, can no longer give birth. She is the last child they can rely on. The only one they can marry off, and sadly her noble line isn't that famous.

Her parents eternally mourn the death of her brother. She is inferior. He was the one they wanted. Else is very sickly, and she's not very smart or charming. The only good thing about her is her looks. I'm not saying her parents are the worst parents. They don't beat her or anything. Heck, her father lets her enjoy her toxic servant lover before marriage.

It's the expectation.

Else is expected to bear a child, even though it will likely kill her. That's all her parents want from her too. They don't give her love. They played with their beloved dead son, but never her. This is the fate of a girl child in a middling noble family. If she had more siblings maybe her life would be happier, but being an only child is not her fault. It is not her fault that her parents only see her as a tool, when they're in love! It's so cruel. The Lady and Lord are in a loving marriage, but they never spared a drop of affection for their surviving child.

Even though Else is WILLING to marry and give up her life, just to please them.

Else and "Ian" (he's actually the rightful King Sybil. Dethroned at age six. The country is currently being run by a corrupt Duke)

They were friends.

When Ian became a servant he didn't expect to make a friend. He didn't want to. Else was a total brat to him. She slapped him when she wanted attention....but when he showed her kindness she showed him kindness in return.

It was all she wanted....until she grew up and her need for affection grew too.

Ok.

Else believes Ian is in a relationship with Ivana. A maid.

Are you ready?

Ian and Else have been bed partners for 2 years, as of the beginning of the story.

Else thinks she is the villain.

She is stealing Ian from his true love, Ivana, out of desire. She sees herself as a monster. Jealousy consumes her. She hits Ivana if the maid ever dares to appear in front of her.

Ivana is secretly a Knight who belongs to Sybil. She is extremely loyal and extremely obsessed with putting her King back on the throne. Her real name is Leina.

Leina believes the Else will be killed off when the King rises back up to his rightful place. Leina sees Else as an annoying, immature, pervert and frankly she's kinda right, but she idolizes Sybil. She's way more annoying than Else.

Else gradually becomes a sympathetic protagonist. She wants to be kind. Her life is just too harsh to allow it.

Leina is a sadistic knight who daydreams about beheading every enemy in the King's shadow. Her extreme black and white mindset is a big red flag.

Sybil is completely willing to sleep with Else. He doesn't tell her that. He lets her suffer. He lets her believe he loves "Ivana". He encourages her jealousy on purpose.

He likes it.

When she hits him he thinks to himself...

"This feels like a kiss."

Sybil is a giant yandere, but he doesn't realize that for a while. He thinks he will leave Else behind for his throne, but his obsession gets worse, and he drags her to the capital.

He encourages her deepest, darkest desires.

He doesn't want her to get married because of her fathers will.

He doesn't want her to love her family at all.

He won't admit it, but he's been waiting.

He wants Else to beg him for salvation.

He wants her to say she loves him more than her family.

She doesn't say that, because deep down she's still naive as hell.

Else knows she must end their relationship. Ian is a servant. Being with her in public isn't an option for him. She took him as her lover. He didn't have a choice. She's been in agony.

Thinking about how to right her wrongs, before she marries.

Her marriage nears, and she's excited.

She wants to show Ian her sincerity. She doesn't expect him to love her. She thinks he hates her.

She blesses his marriage.

Else opens a jewelry box. She's been saving up little gems and coins for him....and Ivana.

Right before her wedding she frees him of his slave status. She tells him to live happily with his true love. She thanks him for being a bright spot in her lonely life. She says his fake love helped her survive.

He gets angry. So angry. I can't even include pictures, because he gets extremely violent. Obviously he takes her after he takes power. Conveniently she's pregnant with his baby too.

Sybil isn't an angel for his beloved. He's a rough guy who's been doing espionage crimes to reclaim his throne since he was like...twelve? Else is his polar opposite, but he loves her. He insults Else, because she's not evil enough. He can't believe she's still willing to go to another man, even though she loves him.

Her logic shatters. He forgets that Else was supposed to be a game. A bed parter to play with before his crown returns to his hand.

He wants her too.

More than she wants him.

The Queen, and the crown.

He'll take both.

#Savage Castle #yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #webtoon

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wannab-urs · 2 months

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Outtakes - Monsterfucking

AO3 | Kofi | Main Masterlist | The Spreadsheet Masterlist

Howdy folks!

Here's a list of fics I've read where either the Pedro boy, the reader, or everyone involved is a monster of some sort.

Summaries and tags are, in most cases, provided by the author - please be sure to read them as some of these fics may have content you do not wish to read.

Pedro boys currently included are: Joel Miller, Ezra, Din Djarin, Dave York, Marcus Pike, Dieter Bravo, Jack Daniels, Frankie Morales, Oberyn Martell, Max Phillips, and Tim Rockford.

updated 3/27/2024

Demon

Met the Devil Last Night

Joel one shot by @pedgito

I made a joke about wanting to screw dirt-covered Joel even if he was deep in the trenches of hell and...well, yeah. This is pure filth and nothing else. Porn with minuscule plot, if you will

fem!reader, demon!joel, no specific age gap since dude is a literal demon, but reader is early 20s and I picture Joel to be his younger self (around 36), mentions of su*cidal ideations, this all a completely made up concept pls don't come for me about rituals, ect i will cry. virgin!reader, reader's father is a priest and horrible (just a total douche)/mother isn't alive, spitting, oral, unprotected piv, blood drinking, competency kink, innocence kink, mutual masturbation

In Every Lifetime

Ezra series by @xdaddysprincessxx

It’s fall of 1974 in your quiet small town of Chesterfield when everything falls apart. Or is it the beginning?

Reader is mid to late 20s, witchcraft, tarot, yes the witchy things depicted in this is real witchcraft things, use of Latin

Common Courtesies

Din one shot by @juletheghoul

Pride and Prejudice vibes but Mr. Darcy is a sex demon

**pussy-eating** language, age-gap (legal, reader is of age) dirty talk, supernatural elements, sexist society, sexist comments from readers father

Solum

Dave York one shot by @ezrasbirdie

Are you lost?" Your heart seizes with fear at the deep rumbling voice, head jerking to look in the direction it came from. It’s too dark. You can’t see anything. "Who’s—who’s there?" You ask, hoping you sound braver than you feel. "You didn’t answer my question,” it said. “Are you lost?' You swallow. You shouldn’t be here. You’ve never stepped foot in this building before today. You have no business here. But lost? No. You’re exactly where you set out to be.

SMUT, dubious consent [reader wants to be with him, but he's a demon so you know—it's a little influenced]—dead dove, this is horror and Dave York is an actual demon who kills people, graphic violence, body horror, a dash of blood kink, oral sex

Sell My Soul For You

Marcus P one shot by @absurdthirst

During girls night out, you accidentally dial your boyfriend, Marcus Pike. He hears you complain about how vanilla your sex life is and that you need to him to be more dominant. Marcus proves he’s willing to do anything to please you, even if the cost is his soul.

Angst, hurt feelings, demon possession, dominant!Marcus, oral (male and female receiving), face fucking, spanking, pussy slapping, spitting, fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, bondage/handcuffs, anal play, double penetration (fingers and cock), soft aftercare.

Incubus

Crawling Back to You

Dieter one shot by @prolix-yuy

Have you no idea that you're in deep?

religious corruption kink, bastardizing prayers, brief drug use, mentions of alcohol consumption, grinding, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, breaking a hymen, descriptions of blood, biting and drawing blood, pheromone incubus anatomy, size difference/kink like whoa, monster transformation, monster fucking, PiV sex, wildly unrealistic sex, kind of dubious consent in the way that she has no idea what she's getting into so Dieter checks in A LOT, consent is sexy and monsters especially should ask for it, Reader has no idea what she's doing when it comes to summoning an incubus.

Dream Within a Dream

Ezra one shot by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Your dreams have become the escape from your draining life. When you discover you are not alone in your dreamworld, will all the aspects lacking in your waking life be fulfilled by your handsome companion?

dream fucking, loss of virginity, depictions and deviations of supernatural lore, erotic gore

Cryptid

Mothman Fever

Joel one shot by @beskarandblasters

You and your friends head to Point Pleasant, West Virginia in late September for the Mothman Festival. And that’s where you meet Joel Miller, a fellow Mothman enthusiast. But once you spend some time alone with him you realize that he’s not who he says he is.

Smut, canon divergence, semi-public sex, alcohol, no outbreak, pet names (luna), oral sex (female receiving), vaginal fingering, PiV sex, sex pollen, dubcon, monsterfucking

Oh, Honey

Joel series by @lincolndjarin

you’ve been given a gift. a fresh start in a brand new place, the sleepy little town of Honey, WV. a distant aunt has passed away and left you a little plot of land and her camper, the stars must be aligning for you because the local mortician is looking for an assistant and you’re desperate for the work experience. your new employer even offers to set you up with her brother-in-law! things are looking up, you’ve got a brand new home, a new town, a hot date, (and thanks to a series of bear attacks that started immediately after your arrival) you have more than enough work to keep you busy!

Soulmates AU, eventual smut, teratophilia, graphic descriptions of violence, explicit descriptions of menstruation, graphic descriptions of the mortuary process, horror, depictions of extreme fear, body horror, graphic depictions of death, eldritch horror. this is a monster fucker fic, proceed accordingly

Sanguine

ˆEzra one shot by marisferasiop

since being turned as a boy into- whatever liminal state of cryptid he is now- Ezra has walked this earth ageless and alone, never finding his place or a partner for long. He interrupts your meal in the city one evening, and brings you home to strike up a deal; feed from him, alone, and keep one another safe from discovery. The fact that he finds his purpose under the soft graze of your teeth and home between your thighs is a nice side effect.

lots of blood, smut, soft yearning sweet boy Ezra, mapuche mythology and monsters, schmoop. Ezra is a subby little sap in this.

Tentacles

MDKT Sex Pollen

Joel one shot by @theywhowriteandknowthings

Your patrol with Joel goes a little sideways

Dead Dove Do Not Eat/DDDNI, noncon/heavy dubcon, body horror, tentacles, mouth r*pe, double/triple penetration, bondage, non-consensual bondage, choking, deep throating, pheromones, sex pollen, tentacles, mind fuck/mind break, brainwashing, guilt, trauma, trauma bonding. Let me know if I missed anything.

Taungsdays, am I right?

Din one shot by @theywhowriteandknowthings

You awaken to find yourself and Din in an alien position.

Smut, dubcon/noncon, pheromones, tentacle sex, bondage, mind-fuck, alien sex, unprotected PiV, anal sex, double penetration, dirty talk

Dragon

Promise

Ezra one shot by @criticallyacclaimedstranger

You are taken from you village by a dragon, and he has an obscene proposition for you.

Human/Monster Romance, Monsterfucking, initial dubcon (sort of a damned if you do damned if you don't deal), dragon fucks reader, Breeding, Oviposition, Stomach Bulge, PIV Sex, Loss of Virginity, Painful Sex, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, dragon!ezra is really good with his tongue, Squirting, All's well that ends well though, seriously I don't know how to warn for this fic guys, dragon biology is weird, DON'T LOOK AT ME! Light Bondage, drugging, pet names

Werewolf

Bad Moon Rising

Jack series by @wardenparker

When a handsome stranger called Jack shows up on your struggling ranch looking for work, you’re more than happy to take him in - and into your bed, as well.Death of a parent, loss of a spouse, general family drama.

Vaginal sex, oral sex, rough sex, Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy is basically a life motto here, Gunshot wound, first aid things, blood mention, raw meat mention. Vaginal sex, oral sex, rough sex, so much cum, size kink, squirting, anal play/ass eating, monster fucking.

Shifter

SNAFU

Frankie series by @theywhowriteandknowthings

You’ve done this thousands of times, brought new teams to heel, be it in Britain, Japan, Korea, yet the States are always the hardest to wrangle, the mixture of over-hyped masculinity, the general military bravado, whatever it was, you always ran into trouble. But nothing has ever come close to the new Shifter Charlie Team, and boy, are you in for the biggest challenge of your life.

Canon-Typical Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Shifter AU, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, eventual Frankie x reader, former Jason x Reader, Smut, Fluff and Smut, Military, Porn With Plot, Slow Burn, Pack Dynamics, Pack Cuddles, Pack Building, Strong Female Characters, strong female lead

Alien

Kudzu

Ezra one shot by @beskarberry

a familiar stranger shows up at the doorstep of your infirmary with unfamiliar wounds. You're no doctor, but masquerading as one makes you the only one in the position to save his life. Can you win out against his extraterrestrial illness, or will his new abilities stake a claim in you as well?

NON-CON/DUB-CON, human/alien hybridization, forced breeding/impregnation/birth, rough/feral sex, sex pollen, body worship, cervix penetration, cum inflation, knotting, a wisp of a/b/o. Nonsexual: wound care and dressing, hurt/comfort, a little whumpish, shootouts, blood, dumb jokes, cheesy ending

Jizz Fingers

various boys series by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

An intergalactic creampie love story.

Smut, alternate universe, aliens, crack fic, penetrative vaginal sex, creampie

Mermaid

Rises the Moon

Joel one shot by @psychedelic-ink

As the man responsible for operating the lighthouse, Joel lives a solitary life on the isolated coast. He has no complaints, enjoying the hauntingly beautiful songs that echo from the sea at night. One stormy night, he rescues a mysterious mermaid tangled in a fishing net. As you recover in the lighthouse, the two form an unlikely bond and find comfort in each other's company.

mention of joel from time to time visiting a brothel, loneliness, mermaid anatomy things, oral (fem receiving), piv, touch starved!joel and reader, mild breeding kink, squirting

Vampire

Sated

Joel one shot by @softlyspector

Joel just wants you to eat well

love as being consumed, blood drinking, smut from start to finish (piv, f!receiving oral, fingering), Joel's praise kink, talk of eating, consuming, drinking, hunger, etc, vampires you get it.

Attraction Spell

Joel one shot by @jksprincess10

Vampire Joel finds witchy reader in her shop asks her for a love spell

DDDNE, noncon/dubcon, stalking, blood play, using blood as lube, ambiguous ending, unprotected p in v, fingering, praise kink, choking, pain kink, rough sex, minimal editing.

Bleed for me

Din series by @saradika

When it's revealed that the Mand'alor is seeking a companion, you find yourself among those hoping to be chosen. A life of luxury in exchange for your blood seems a fair trade - even if you're hiding a closely-kept secret. One that would certainly put your life in danger.

vampires, alternate universe, canon divergence, blood/drinking blood, shared memories, angst, death/violence, biting, body worship, possessive!pleasure!dom!din, implied aphrodisiacs, mind meld, praise kink, oral, piv, marking

The Special One

Joel one shot by @toxicanonymity

You meet a handsome stranger on a night out with friends. The last thing you're expecting is to be chained up in his basement.

Smut, age gap, alcohol, drugging and kidnapping, chains/restraints, blood and its consumption, oral sex (female receiving), period cunnilingus, dubcon, held in captivity, reader can menstruate, male masturbation, vampire!Joel, alternate universe, dark!Joel

Vampire!Dieter

Dieter one shot by @chronically-ghosted

Interview with a vampire, gatsby style

flirting, a bit of blood, maybe dubcon due to The Thrall but i think it's safe to say we all want It from vampire!dieter, unbeta-ed because i needed to write something or someone was going to die

vamp but it's you

Everyone at this party's a vampire

Dieter one shot by @idolatrybarbie

"you look so pretty like this."

briefly discussed necrophilia, innuendo, heavy petting

Sanguine

Ezra one shot by @marisferasiop

lots of blood, smut, soft yearning sweet boy Ezra, mapuche mythology and monsters, schmoop. Ezra is a subby little sap in this.

vamp but it's everyone

a court of fangs and foxgloves

Oberyn/Max P one shot @psychedelic-ink

After you left the court and hence Oberyn, no one is eager to forgive you for your betrayal. Especially those closest to you.

Smut, MMF threesome/orgy, voyeurism, mlm dynamics, Dom/sub dynamics, sub!Max, switch!reader, dom!Oberyn, rimming, ass play, anal sex, penetrative vaginal sex, biting, mentions of blood, vampirism

I Bite Back

One shot by me

Max Phillips is seemingly always in command, always domineering, always on top… except when he’s with you.

Dom!Reader, Bratty Sub!Max, pegging… duh. This is technically monsterfucking also lmao. Aftercare is implied because I'm implying it here, I didn't write that in. Oh also vamp!reader if you want but I don't really make that explicit

Red Right Hand

one shot by me

You and Max have dinner and then you get freaky. It’s almost too much for poor little Maxxie to handle.

Pure porn, pwp, Blood drinking (they’re both vampires), minor character death (your victim lol), murder… obviously. sub!Max, Dom!reader, unprotected PiV (they’re vampires, you are not), uhhh blasphemy probably, face riding, cum eating, Max’s vamp face, oral m! and f!receiving, overstimulation m!receiving, multiple male orgasms, refractory period nonexistent due to vampire fuckery, ass play m!receiving, praise kink, use of pet names/titles (Mistress for reader/ baby boy, pet, Maxxie, and one surprise for Max), aftercare, no use of y/n.

Only Lovers Left Alive

Joel Series by @atinylittlepain

He offers her another option between life and death. How could she refuse?

Smut, dubcon, gore, blood and bloodplay, dark themes, cowboy!vampire!Joel, set in the past, alternate universe

vamp but it's max phillips

With Cherries on Top

series by @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa

After countless late nights and giving up important things in your life for a job and a man that refuses to promote you, your family begs you to quit when you break it to them that you have to miss your grandmother’s 85th birthday. Max Phillips may have left the country an American citizen but he came back an undead vampire, meaning his status in the States is no longer valid. In order to not get deported to Romania, he tells immigration that the two of you are getting married and he strikes a deal to make it worth your while.

Smut, language, adult themes, sexual innuendos, workplace harassment, family issues, angst, hurt/comfort, manipulation

A Little Lipstick Never Hurts

Reader/Max/Dieter series by @max--phillips

Max tries to skip his morning inspection, but gets caught breaking one of the rules you set for him anyway. A punishment is in order. / Max realizes a fantasy, and you enlist Dieter Bravo to help you deliver. / You receive a very hot video from your boyfriends while you are at work. The making of said video requires Max to break some rules you'd previously set out for him. He and Dieter make it up to you very easily.

Forced Feminization, but it's consensual, Femdom, Chastity Device 24/7, D/s dynamic, Sex Toys, BDSM, reader referred to as Mistress and Ma'am, Impact Play, Riding Crop, Bondage, Anal Fingering, Pegging, Butt Plugs, Degradation, Deepthroating, face fucking, gagging, spit, ruined orgasm, Nipple Clamps, Cum Play, Cum Eating, Oral Sex, Aftercare, there is NO misgendering, Max's ass does get referred to as his pussy and his dick his clit, but that's as far as that goes, MMF, threesome, PIV, double penetration, cock cages, ball gag, choking, max is a vampire, blow jobs, sex tapes, cum swapping, rule negotiations, fluff

Reflective

series by @prolix-yuy

His management style is effective AND refreshing. And as his executive assistant, you’re partially to thank. But as your professional relationship blurs, are you getting too close to the middle manager monster of nightmares?

horror elements and themes, graphic descriptions of blood including drinking, background character un-death, violence, fingering (f-receiving), vomiting (not descriptive), descriptions of a panic attack, a dabble of sleazy coworkers, playing fast and loose with vampire lore. mirror shenanigans, fingering (f-receiving), oral sex (f-receiving), PiV sex (don’t be a fool wrap your tool), playing fast and loose with vampire lore.

Lust for a vampire

one shot by @idolatrybarbie

A lot of oddballs and strange characters visit a vampire strip club in a tourist town on the border. Max Phillips is unlike any of them.

Smut, mentioned drug use, background sex work, dubcon, supernatural stalking, blood, pussy slapping, orgasm denial, spit, physical altercation, vaginal fingering, pet names (sweet thing, honey, sweetheart)

The Impaler

Tim Rockford/Max/Reader one shot by @kiwisbell

Chief Detective Tim Rockford makes a breakthrough in New York City’s latest serial killer case. The mysterious culprit is in the mood to share more than information.

vampires, gothic architecture, slightly dubious consent, implied mind alteration/control, murder, death, blood, threesome, lots of biting, spanking, spitroasting, masturbation, DVP, fingering, unprotected PIV (wrap ur vampire dicks pls), wife sharing, free use kink, oral sex (f and m receiving), exchanging fluids, spitting, disgusting and filthy, max using cringey nicknames for reader’s pussy but it’s charming bc it’s max, handcuffs, light bondage, hair pulling

I cannot get you close enough

one shot by @leslie-lyman

“You have to invite me in, sweetheart.” Oh. Right. Vampire. “Come in, please,” you say demurely, and Max’s smile widens as he steps over the threshold into your apartment. He reaches for you again immediately, kicking your door closed and pulling you close. “Good girl,” he murmurs. “Such a polite little Omega.”

A/B/O dynamics; one small scene of men being creepy and threatening towards reader (but, perhaps surprisingly, one of those men is not Max); extremely self-indulgent Halloween costumes on the part of your author; a bit of angst; fEeLiNgS; absolutely way too much plot and character backstory for what was supposed to just be porn; Alpha!Max is his own warning; heat sex; biting; blood-drinking; breeding kink; many, many creampies; Max has an absolutely filthy mouth; look, it’s heat sex with Max, it probably (hopefully?) entails exactly what you think it does

All Mouth

one shot by @idolatrybarbie

max phillips and prompt no. nine— "you look so pretty like this." with a twist!

reader is not American/not an "American vampire", porn with mild plot, pet names (honey, baby, sweetie, Maxxie), all the usual vampire genre warnings, including but not limited to - graphic blood and gore, cannibalism, mention of scars, horror themes, love as consumption, smut - mommy kink, degradation (max gets called a slut), cock slapping, dacryphilia, orgasm denial, handjob, alcohol mention, fluff.

Happy Reading!

#i meant to set this to post on my birthday oops #fic recs #the spreadsheet digest #fanfiction recommendations #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #the spreadsheet outtakes #the spreadsheet digest outtakes #outtakes #monsterfucking

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omkookie · 8 months

Text

Guess who hasn't read Charles' route yet...😂 (Oops)

⌈ ⚠️ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ⌉ Yandere themes, talks of baby trapping, isolation... all thattt. 15+

As nice and kind he is, he's still crazy on the inside. Because of his lack of care, he doesn't behave normally. His obsessive traits quickly become evident and as easy to spot as black ink spilled upon a white sheet of paper.

Charles is hard to read, mainly because only god knows what goes on through his head. One moment, he's all smiles and everything is normal, the other he's getting mad over a stranger who looked at you for "far too long" according to him. (It was 3 seconds at most but oh welp.)

You see, he loves his darling so much.

She's so precious to him, and he wants to give her everything that she deserves along with so much more. But he has to get violent at times, especially when his beloved darling tries to escape. He doesn't like to hurt her, but due to the circumstances it's sometimes necessary. He has to teach her to not run away, and to remain by his side forever. Alas, he will forcefully suck her blood and leave her covered in bites.

In nis delusional eyes they're meant for each other. She's so beautiful, her sweet and pure smile along with her precious and caring hands. He wants to marry her and he wants to build a future with her where they start a family.

If she has kids with him, she surely won't try to leave, right? What cruel mother would take her kids away from their father.... Everyone knows how important a father figure is to the children and household. She couldn't possibly be some cruel monster that takes her kids away from their father now, could she?

of course she can't.

Charles has so many ideas with which he can trap his darling, he's honestly clueless at what to do and which to use first.

Should he go ahead and get her pregnant? She probably wouldn't be too happy about that, considering she didn't even want to look at him right now. She's locked herself in her room in hopes of avoiding him as much as she can, so she's currently in her rebellious state. It would be so cute to have little lookalikes of her running around the house though! having kids would literally prevent her from leaving him, so that might be his best option right now. It's also the one that brings him the most delight.

Something else that he might do is just keep her isolated from others. it will make her depend solely on him, both emotionally and physically. He's curious about how much her psyche might crumble. How much could she take before it became too much? When will she finally break and start loving him back?

His twisted perception of love might be due to his past and the people he's interacted with all these years while he was alive. His twisted feelings might have spiraled from a place of confusion, because his love itself is pure... it's just overshadowed and cast aside by the unrelenting possessiveness and longing for his darling that's achingly sweet like a pink venom.

Maybe his love isn't so pure after all? could love really get corrupted by any other feelings besides hatred? guess we'll just have to wait to find out and see how far he goes.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #yandere #cw;yandere❤️#ikemen vampire charles #charles henri sanson #ikevamp charles #yandere ikemen vampire #ikemen vampire x reader #ikemen vampire fanfic #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere fanfiction

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puppetwoman17 · 9 months

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You know, I’ve always thought of Michael Afton as the FNaF series’ anomaly. It’s why I refer to it so much in my fanfiction.

There’s the obvious bit, where he’s nothing like the rest. He’s no animatronic, obviously. He’s not like his dad or brother, who were crushed by spring locks and inhabited the suits they died in. He’s not a suit fueled by the agony of a child’s death.

But he’s not human either.

He’s somewhere in the middle. A combination of the agony of his death by scooper, of remnant powering dead children. And then there’s the obvious addition of, ya know, his insides being scooped out by an amalgamated system of robots.

Different from the rest. A man haunting his own body. Others are fueled by hate and a lust for revenge. But he’s alive just because of spite. Because he won’t die.

And when I tell you he was probably the most unexpected thing to happen…

He was some bratty kid, annoyed with his brother for always crying. Then the kid dies and he feels like the worst human being. Then he does whatever he can to set things right, like going down to find his sister. And then he gets scooped, and that just FEELS like the end, right? Like the last Afton is gone, like all that’s left is just William and the creatures he created. Animatronics possessed by dead kids versus a murderer in a rabbit suit. No one to stand in the middle and watch over all of it.

They needed a middle man, and they got one.

I remember when the story was first starting out, and everyone was wondering who the guard was. FNAF one, the last guard in FNAF 2(for some, not for others), and the guard in FNAF 3. I remember so clearly, we were wondering just why the hell this guy kept coming back, if he even was the same guy. Who would come back every night and come out the winner?

And then FNAF 4 came out, and we got our first look at who would grow up to be the protagonist of these games. It’s not clear though, we still don’t have the full picture.

And then SL releases, and FINALLY, we know. We have a name, a relation, and it blows the world of FNAF into a whirlwind, because the protagonist of Five Nights at Freddy’s, the thorn in the murderer’s side, someone who can take on so many animatronics and come out swinging, is the murderer’s own son! His first born child, back with a vengeance, and an inability to pass on.

He burned his own father, he took on the corrupt company he worked for and searched for the guard who left him tapes. He tampered with robots and burned places to the ground and did it all in a decaying body.

And it all comes to a head in FNAF 6, where we see all of his hard work come to fruition, and all of his skills are utilized to take on the monsters of his past. I’m sure no one in that town expected anything from a jealous, angry kid who “killed” his brother. I’m sure they hated him. I’m sure he was expected to die. But he still got back up. He became the anomaly, and he burned those mofos to the ground!

Fanart by KTK on Pinterest

#michael afton #william afton #five nights at freddy's #evan afton

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panlight · 8 months

Note

Let's say that vampirism actually enhances a person's WORST trait (rather than an innate ability or power). What would be each Cullen's enhanced flaw?

I keep trying to answer this and I keep coming back to like, twisting their positive traits into a flaw, so I guess that's where my brain is going with this.

Like, Carlisle. I think if negative things were enhanced we'd end up with someone who is like . . . 'saving' everyone. He knows best, he wants to help, congrats you're a vampire now whether that's something you'd ever have wanted or not. He'd like amass a huge coven much more quickly and before he himself had really beaten the bloodlust/thirst stuff, so either it's just way too many vampires to keep in line and they start killing lots of people, or it really becomes a cult-like sort of thing with his natural ability to draw people to him also being twisted/corrupted. Probably wiped out by the Volturi early on because yikes.

With Edward I guess it would be his judgmental streak? Already in canon he is pretty quick to decide this person is bad based on a few idle thoughts, thoughts this person might actually consider intrusive, or thoughts they would never voice nor act on. He's probably leave on his rebellion much sooner because he would be convinced he'd ridding the world of monsters and Carlisle's like, "he's just like my father." I think whether he can still read minds in this scenario or not wouldn't really make a difference, he'd still appoint himself judge, jury and executioner.

The dark side of ability to love, to me, is possessiveness and jealousy. So an Esme with flaws intensified I see as someone who is very possessive and jealous of those she loves, to a manipulative and unhealthy degree. Lots of guilt-trips and "don't you love me?" and all that. Carlisle probably can't keep a job because she's jealous of the time he spends there; the kids probably don't go to school because she wants them with her, etc.

SM seemed pretty happy to highlight Rosalie's flaws already; her vanity, self-absorption, her rudeness. But I think if her power is beauty than the enhanced flaw has to be related to that too, so either enhanced vanity or maybe she's more like a Heidi type who can lure people in not just with looks but with a little something supernaturally extra. Whether she still abstains from human blood or not, she could still use and manipulate people with that kind of power.

Emmett's competitiveness and impulsiveness could be the enhanced flaws. It would be sort of like James, I'd imagine, constantly compelled to put himself (and his family) in increasing levels of danger. It could also enhance his temper; instead of being kind of playfully competitive, he gets actually violently angry.

I mean Alice, let's be real, already manipulates reality and the people in to her will based on her visions. She does so in an attempt to bring about the 'best' future possible, but it still veers into questionable territory pretty quickly. If her sort of pushiness and desire to know and control everything were enhanced, it would take what is already sort of there in canon and push it all the way into a really dark place where she's pulling the strings and creating a future that solely benefits her and doesn't care one bit about who might be harmed in the process.

Jasper lack of self-control intensified would also be, uh, really bad. I suppose he would have been killed by Maria pretty early on if he was that impossible to rein in, unless he killed her first and then the Volturi would have to step in because there is this out of control killing machine who can't control himself running around. If we stick with his gift being corrupted/turned into a flaw, that charismatic streak that he had could turn into a power to actually make people do things, like mind-control of sorts. I personally don't like mind control powers because the lack of free will really squicks me out, but I can go with something like hypnosis, where like some people are more susceptible than others and you can't really get someone to do something they wouldn't do as themselves. So like he couldn't compel the average person to serve as his Renfield or to murder people on his behalf, but he could find people who were susceptible to the power of suggestion AND who had that darkness already in them and get them to do almost anything.

#asks

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lorcandidlucienwill · 4 months

Text

Mated to a monster

Just for you @achaotichuman TWs: suicide, child sexual harassment, self-harm, physical abuse The brambled thorns piercing his skin had become his solace. He had abandoned his court, his life, his everything. What was the point? He'd once had the world, and he'd squandered it. He still dreamt of it. When he was just a child, and he'd seen the Hybern general for the first time. Red hair with streaks of black, like her hair had been soaked with so much blood that it had mostly changed color, the streaks the only remnant of her that hadn't been corrupted. When he'd longed for acceptance from his father, receiving nothing but the barbed whip across his back for being a failure of a courtier, for playing his fiddle for the handsome Night Court lord he couldn't help but love, Amarantha had spoken to him. She'd embraced him and told him he was worth every last bit of Prythian, and their mating bond had clicked in. So what if she caressed his chest far too possessively to be casual? So what if she grabbed him through his pants, sometimes squeezing hard enough to cause pain? She had told him he was valuable. That was more than his father ever did. The scars on his back were so numerous that nobody would be able to count them. But while Amarantha left bruises, none of them stayed. It was only when she'd tried to strip him that he'd begged her to stop. He told her he was too young, that he was scared, that he had no idea what he was doing, that he wasn't comfortable with a sexual relationship at this point in time. In her rage, she'd ripped his antlers out with her bare hands and carved out his abdomen with them. It was only by a miracle that he'd escaped that place. He'd barely made it to his father, who'd saved his life. Only to give him the worst beating of his life. By the time it was done, Tamlin was crying tears of blood. Yet, that wasn't the worst pain in the world. No, it was nothing compared to the hollow feeling in his chest. The golden thread, his last hope for joy in this world, snapped in one moment. The mating bond. He was in such torment that he was sure it would kill him. Unfortunately, he lived. And lived. And lived. Even though he wished his brothers would slaughter him. He ran to his Night Court prince who'd enjoyed his music so much. He begged him for solace, he confessed all his pain. Rhys embraced him and promised that he would love him forever. His father caught them mid-embrace. Tamlin stood between them, demanding that Rhys run away, that he free himself. But Tamlin's father stabbed his shoulder with ash, preventing him from winnowing away. He grabbed Tamlin and threw him bodily across the room before having his brothers hold him down. Worse-so much fucking worse than bearing the whip himself. He screamed and writhed in his brothers arms as his father whipped Rhysand so thoroughly that there would be no recognizing him. He was just blood. "A little parting present for the High Lord of Night," Tamlin's father crooned. Tamlin vomited all over himself and his brothers. One of them stabbed him in his irritation, but at this point the pain was completely secondary. But his pain was not to end there. No, it was only to get much worse. He hadn't expected it to devolve into this. Two families killing each other off, their heirs once lovers. And when the high lord power fell onto Rhysand...he was so beautiful. So beautiful Tamlin's heart hurt. His violet eyes could devour him whole. He begged Rhysand to take him right then and there, to shove him down and make him his. There were no more families to keep them apart. But Rhysand only glared at him, simmering hatred burning in his eyes. "If I ever see you again, I'll kill you," he said in that sultry, seductive voice Tamlin had loved so much.

#tamlin #tamlin angst #tragedy #angst #fanfic

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mightydyke · 2 months

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Frankenstein as a horror novel is about the horror of societal injustice. The eight-foot undead monster isn't even that scary on his own, it's the fact that he is rejected by society due to the way he looks.

"The words induced me to turn towards myself. I learned that the possessions most esteemed by your fellow creatures were high and unsullied descent united with riches. A man might be respected with only one of these advantages, but without either he was considered, except in very rare instances, as a vagabond and a slave, doomed to waste his powers for the profits of the chosen few! And what was I? Of my creation and creator I was absolutely ignorant, but I knew that I possessed no money, no friends, no kind of property. I was, besides, endued with a figure hideously deformed and loathsome; I was not even of the same nature as man. I was more agile than they and could subsist upon coarser diet; I bore the extremes of heat and cold with less injury to my frame; my stature far exceeded theirs. When I looked around I saw and heard of none like me. Was I, then, a monster, a blot upon the earth, from which all men fled and whom all men disowned?"

Caroline's death, which arguably could be the cause of Victor's obsession with creating life, was due to the fact that she tended on Elizabeth whilst she was ill due to her what was expected of her as a woman. The murder of William wasn't just awful because of the fact that he was killed, it's the fact that Justine, a poor servant girl, gets accused and executed for his murder (compare this with the other times we see a corrupt court sentencing: Safie's father gets put in prison for being a wealthy Muslim; "The injustice of his sentence was very flagrant... his religion and wealth rather than the crime alleged against him had been the cause of his condemnation." Frankenstein also gets falsely accused and put in prison, but is treated much better and released, probably due to being a wealthy European man). Not to mention the Elizabeth... the horror of trying to defend your best friend from being executed and your words being powerless. Knowing the man you are engaged to marry has a terrible secret that he won't tell you, but you have to marry him because it's been planned by your adopted parents since you were a child. And then she dies! Due to Victor's creation that he never even tells her about! A creation that some argue is an attempt to usurp the role of women as life-givers.

#Frankenstein #frankenstein or the modern prometheus #Mary Shelley #I'm obsessed with this book

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loudblonde · 6 months

Text

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Male!Reader Mafia AU, (chapter seventeen)

Minors DNI

Summary: (Y/N) and Gaz enjoy an evening together, though neither spent the night with the other. Meanwhile Price reevaluate just how (Y/N) intreacts with people around him. Police Chief Shepherds and Lieutenant Graves makes their first appearance as (Y/N)'s training to take over from his father finally begins.

word count: 2.4K

Warnings: discussing of using ones body to acheive things, sex, corrupt police, general mafia bs,

(Y/N) wasn’t acting rational, not in any manner befitting of someone his station, he had lost his cool, and he had finally gotten behind closed doors with someone whom he knew well, Kyle or as his father called him, Gaz. (Y/N) walked over and wrapped his arms around Kyle’s shoulders, he hummed a bit. “No attachments?”

“I don’t think you could be attached even if you wanted to,” Kyle said and leaned up to kiss (Y/N) only to have a finger placed on his lips. “You care about Ghost and yet you can’t have him,” Kyle said.

“I don’t care about him, but he is mine. No one else should touch him.” (Y/N) moved his hand to cover Kyle’s cheek. “I guess I am a bit possessive about him, but it’s earned.”

“How is it earned?” Kyle leaned into his touch, it was intoxicating. “You didn’t feel like you owned me despite us spending multiple weeks together, you practically fucked me on every surface.”

(Y/N) smirked a bit. “You didn’t fight to prove yourself to me. To see him absolutely destroy König and then walk over to me without a care for the destruction left behind…” (Y/N) closed his eyes and imagined the fight and the sight. “We have been too cooped up and frustrated.”

“What will you do?” Kyle asked, bringing (Y/N) out of the thoughts.

“Hm? Nothing, I won’t force myself on him or force him to be mine, he doesn’t deserve that, I am not a monster, I am not my father.” (Y/N) said.

Kyle whistled out. “You know, that can be considered treason.”

(Y/N) leaned down and kissed Kyle. “So is it when you get dicked down by me.” (Y/N) said before kissing Kyle's throat. “It is far worse actually, you are one of the people he trusts most and yet you seek my bed.”

Kyle let soft moans escape his lips. “Do you really wanna talk about your father before you fuck me?”

“Not particularly.” (Y/N) pushed Kyle down onto the bed before straddling his hips, their lips met passionately, both seeking their own pleasure.

(Y/N)’s touch was intoxicating, Kyle wanted nothing more than to lose himself in (Y/N) and (Y/N) wanted to forget Simon’s touches and kisses.

(Y/N) pulled away and pulled the shirt off himself, Kyle leaned up and hastily removed his own shirt as well. (Y/N) looked down at all the scars covering Kyle’s chest.

“So handsome~” He said with a slight purr to his voice. (Y/N) kissed down his chest, he didn’t leave behind any marks. One of his free hands came up to message one of Kyle’s nipples, causing Kyle to moan a bit louder.

(Y/N) moved between his legs before undoing Kyle’s belt, he pulled Kyle’s pants and underwear off before grabbing the lube and a condom from the nightside stand. (Y/N) looked down at Kyle, silently asking for permission, he was met with a smile and nod. “I will say if you go over my limit.”

(Y/N) smiled at that. He leaned down and kissed Kyle’s hip. “Good, I expect nothing less.” He said before coating a finger in lube. (Y/N) looked up at Kyle. “Ready?” Kyle nodded. (Y/N) began opening him up, one finger at the time. He moved expertly, extracting moan after moan that neither man tried to muffle the moans, (Y/N) unashamed and Kyle too caught up in all of it to care. (Y/N) added more lube before adding a second finger, he worked carefully as he slowly spread his fingers more and more.

Kyle grabbed onto the sheet below him. “Fuck,” He moaned lightly. “You are too good.”

(Y/N) carefully angled his finger to brush against his prostate, Kyle moaned louder. “So needy, I bet you haven’t had anyone touch you like this since the last time we were together.” (Y/N) said with a smirk. “Do you touch yourself thinking about all the ways I fucked you?” He added more lube and a third finger.

Kyle moaned out louder. “Yes! Yes! Fuck yes!” He said. “You were so good to me!”

“Good boy~” (Y/N) praised. “Use your words if you want me to continue.”

“Please fuck me, sir!” Kyle said, his eyes closed in ecstasy, (Y/N) brushing across his prostate with every single movement of his fingers.

“As you wish~” (Y/N) pulled away and pulled his pants down just enough to take out his cock, he unwrapped the condom, rolled it on and added more lube before lining up with Kyle’s hole. He held onto Kyle’s hips as he pushed in, meeting very little resistance.

“Fuck baby boy, you are taking me so well.” (Y/N) moaned out. He moved slowly at first, letting Kyle get used to the girth. Kyle squirmed beneath him, his eyes begging for a faster pace.

“Please, sir, fuck me faster.” He said through soft moans. (Y/N) happily obliged, he fucked into Kyle harder, not holding back, each thrust was timed with how he almost ruthlessly pulled Kyle back down on his cock, Kyle grabbed onto the headboard, moan after moan after moan pulled themselves from his lips as he felt a stirring within his stomach, a knot was forming. Kyle reached down with one free hand and stroked his cock in turn with (Y/N) fucking into him.

Everything was overwhelming and Kyle wasn’t being quiet, seeing someone reduced to nothing but a moaning mess beneath him fueled (Y/N) as he kept seeking his own pleasure, though his mind wasn’t entirely on Kyle nor how good he felt to be inside off, a small torturous part of (Y/N) kept thinking back to Ghost.

(Y/N) felt a familiar knot form in his stomach, he was nearing his end, he looked down at Kyle and smiled. “Fuck, baby, you take me so well. You feel so good.” (Y/N) praised, not caring if anyone heard them.

Kyle looked up to (Y/N), and the praise pushed him right to the very edge. “Sir, I am close!” He moaned out.

“Come for me, baby!” (Y/N) moaned out as Kyle clenched around him, Kyle pushed himself right over the edge, covering his chest in cum.

(Y/N) thrusted in a few more times before cuming as well. He pulled away with heavy breaths and left the bed. (Y/N) took the condom off, tied it off, and threw it out before wiping himself off. He dropped his pants but kept his underwear on. He grabbed some tissue paper and cleaned Kyle off with a slight hum. “You did so well for me, how do you feel?”

“Like I am in heaven, as always. The aftercare really is something you put thought into.” Kyle said before grabbing the glass of water (Y/N) offered him. He sat up. “I will go to my own bed. But this was nice, good, if you ever want to do it again, we can.” With that Kyle stood. (Y/N) helped him gather his clothes before watching him leave, leaving (Y/N) all alone again. He laid back on the bed and sighed. He wouldn’t be able to sleep anytime soon and laying in bed all night wouldn’t help him.

(Y/N) sighed again before taking a long and scolding shower, his skin screamed at him. Though (Y/N) ignored it. He got dressed in workout clothes before going down into the basement where they had facilities. No one else was around. (Y/N) propped music into his ears before starting to train away any thoughts, feelings or emotions he had.

He was a stranger in a strange land, he had no one. The one person he desired or could see himself working well with had flat-out said they shouldn’t be together, it pissed (Y/N) off but he wasn’t a monster, no matter how much he wished he could just force himself to become one, he just couldn’t. Sure, he could kill anyone if given the chance, with no remorse, he had done so in the past and would do so in the future, but rape? No. That was where he drew a very hard line. He knew it was used as a measurement of control by the military around the world, but he despised those creatures who had to resort to such barbaric methods to instil fear.

No, reputation should proceed you. He cared not for the war crimes of soldiers, especially not the ones who had fun committing those crimes, they were the true monsters. Monsters he would gladly have hunted down, had he not been called in by his father.

(Y/N) didn’t sleep that night, but did end up running for the better part of 4 hours, by the time Simon found him, (Y/N) was lifting weights that could impress even the most trained. “Your father requests that you meet him in an hour.” Ghost said, gaining no response, he noticed the headphones and sighed. He threw a pen and managed to hit (Y/N) in the back of the head.

(Y/N) placed the weights back, as one should always do, before looking at Simon. “What?”

“Meeting in an hour, with your father.” Ghost said.

“Ah, thank you… what time is it?”

Ghost paused. “It’s six in the morning.” He finally said.

“.... Thank you, Ghost.” (Y/N) walked right past him and upstairs, not lingering for even a second too long. He was tired, exhausted and generally just smashed to bits. Yet he showered and got dressed before heading for the kitchen, fully ignoring the way Ghost was following him.

(Y/N) definitely wasn’t (read he was) swaying his hips just a tad more than he normally would and he definitely wasn’t (again, read he was) aware Ghost had his eyes only on (Y/N). (Y/N) wasn’t petty (yes he was), but he knew he couldn’t go on like this forever, yet he knew no one would ever compare to Simon, no one would ever get that close to him nor would ever get that close to becoming his equal.

He grabbed something quick from the kitchen, fully aware Ghost was acting like his shadow. (Y/N) looked at Ghost before taking a bite of the apple, a drop of crisp juice ran down his chin, (Y/N) grabbed it with his thumb and made eye contact with Ghost before he licked the drop away. (Y/N) wasn’t hiding the fact he saw just how hard Ghost got, a small smirk fell over his face as (Y/N) finally looked away and kept eating the food he had very quickly thrown together.

(Y/N) kept his eyes on the clock, mentally keeping track of the slow hour before packing the things away and making his way to his father's office, he knocked and walked in with Ghost, not waiting to be told he could come in.

A blonde average-looking man around Ghost’s age was sitting in a police uniform in one of the chairs next to a larger bald man who was easily in his 60’s if not older. “(Y/N), this is Chief of Police Shepherds and Lieutenant Graves. Graves here is the current leader of the Shadow Unit who works beneath us, our police enforcers.” Price said.

“A pleasure to meet you, (Y/N) Price.” Shepherds stood up and held his hand out.

(Y/N) gave his classical dashing smile and shook his hand. “Chief Shepherds, the pleasure is all mine.” (Y/N) said with a chuckle. He turned to the Lieutenant and held his hand out. Graves stood up and swallowed hard before shaking (Y/N)’s hand. “Lieutenant.” (Y/N) said, his voice dropping an octave.

Price leaned back in his chair, perhaps there was something to what Ghost had said about (Y/N).

“It’s a pleasure, sir.” Graves finally said. “I hope to work closely with you.”

“Oh don’t worry Lieutenant, I am sure we will be very, very close.” (Y/N) said.

Price couldn’t stop himself from admitting (Y/N) was damn effective in getting people to like him. It was a dangerous quality; he had originally fallen completely and utterly in love with Viper, (Y/N) really was his mother's son. He couldn’t fault Simon for falling in love with (Y/N), especially seeing (Y/N) work Graves so quickly, Graves was like putty in his hands. Price glanced at Ghost and sighed before giving him an acknowledging nod.

(Y/N) stood behind Graves, hands on his shoulders, Graves looked like he was trying his hardest not to combust on the spot. “Is this how I find out you want me to work with the shadow unit?”

“Yes, it’s an easy first task and they will report directly to you, Graves hand-picked everyone, all are on our payroll.” Price said. “You will tell me what happens if it’s massive, otherwise you have Gaz and Ghost who know the ins and outs very well when it comes to that, they will help you when it comes to what we usually do. If you need a second opinion, always come to me.” Price finished with.

“Of course, father.” (Y/N) said with a nod. He squeezed Graves's shoulders and looked down at him with a smirk. “Sounds like we have to become very good friends.”

“Of course, Sir.” Graves said. He stood up with Shepherds who bid them all goodbye. (Y/N) sat down and looked towards his father. “I am not sleeping with Graves.”

“I don’t think you need to, he is already enchanted by you. I don’t know how you do it, but I know your mother is the same.” Price sighed. “I both hate it and I know how useful it can be.”

(Y/N) chuckled. “It is a very useful gift, Mother didn’t even have to try to teach me. According to Grandmama, it runs in the family.”

“The ability to enchant and seduce anything that lays eyes on us.” (Y/N) closed his eyes and hummed. “Using my body has always just come easy for me.”

“You know you don’t have to do that, right?” Price asked.

(Y/N) opened a single eye and looked towards Price. “What do you mean?”

Price leaned on the table and looked at (Y/N) intently. “You don’t have to sleep with anyone you don’t want to, just to gain their trust. It is important to me that you know that?”

“Yes?” (Y/N) sat properly in the chair. “Why wouldn’t I know that?”

“(Y/N)... Have you ever enjoyed sex in the last decade?” Ghost asked.

“I…. well a time or two.” (Y/N) said before standing. “I have to go, I need to talk to Gaz.” (Y/N) left the room, leaving Ghost and Price alone.

“... I can’t fault you for making the mistake that I have made.” Price said and stood up. He walked over to the cigar case and opened it. He took one out and walked over to Ghost and held it out. “Make him happy.”

tag list:

@one-green-frog @rasberry-jupiter

I do have reqeusts open, look at the pinned post for answers, I am more then happy to explain further if needed.

#cod x male reader #simon ghost riley x male reader #cod men x male reader #simon riley x male reader #simon ‘ghost’ riley x male reader #simon riley x you #male reader #simon ghost riley #fanfiction #loudblondes cod mafia au

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streaminn · 8 months

Note

I think it’s the timing and me watching this entire video essay on this game called Faith the Unholy Trinity but those “tattoos” priest Enid is hiding is like 👀👀👀👀👀👀 like what does this mean, and also the work clothes that aren’t her priest attire! What is she doing 👀👀

Does this mean Enid gets called for exorcisms or other paranormal stuff? Since demons are indeed a thing here, or is she like, doing the normal priest things like baptisms and, idk, doing those community projects where religious people help out the sick, elderly and those in precarious economical states?

Either way it’s funny to imagine Wednesday doing her best to tempt the absolute goofball that Enid looks to be here, like is this a whim for her or did she like, made a bet (with her pride probably) on seducing the priest 😭

Enid has three tattoos actually :^D the meaning is for yall to find out or when I actually finish drawing it but she has tattoos on both her arms and one around her chest

She's also being trained by her mother, Esther, to do normal priest things like holding the sermons, gathering tides and hearing confessionals

However, when the rare occasion calls for it.. Enid dons her father's coat and heads off

Also definitely, Wednesday was observing this town and got irritated with how good Enid was. All goody two shoes, helping steal medical supplies from the other town over to help the struggling ones in hers, overworks herself in helping the people- it pissed Wednesday off and so she settled with the most basic sin to make Enid crack

Which is lust

So imagine her shock when she got attached

As for why is Wednesday doing this? Because she isn't exactly a demon

Lemme explain!

There's the demons, mangled beings of sin and disease that are barely lucid. Most likely rabid, possesses humans and lowkey monster looking. These bitches are not pleasing to the eye and feed on humans soul to grow stronger, which is why possession exists. The og rules of the underworld but slowly turned corrupted and wilted away to nothing

Then there are devils, the more sophisticated bunch and the ones that rose after demons. While not as physical monstrous and strong, they're still faster and better than the normal human. They feed on emotions/sin and thus tend to trick humans to committing crimes for enjoyment or sustenance. Usually enjoyment!

Wednesday thought she was going to get an easy bite and in a way you can say she did get what she wanted

After all it was a bite!

Bet she didn't expect it to be a mating one though.

#Priest au #Or I give this au some LORE

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aponian · 1 month

Text

One Punch Man OC - Tamaki’s reference sheet

(⚠️ Some info may not be accurate to the OPM’s world building, lore, etc.. I’ve made some to my own liking and to somewhat fit the character, ty for understanding.)

(⚠️ This sheet will also be long and go deep into the details, may add more in the near future.)

Appearance?

His name is Tamaki, meaning “jeweled tree”. He’s a young man, at around 19 years old. He is 167cm (5’5ft) tall.

He’s a Mysterious Being, but very docile and never has any malicious intentions against anyone. Doesn’t really like to admit that he’s a monster (obv), would avoid that topic.

His hair is almost shoulder length, cut in a wolf-cut style, and has fluffy black-ish denim colored hair. His eyes are sky-blue. Physique isn’t all that impressive (shrimpy), with half of his face and nearly half of his body covered in scars (healed, but almost noticeable).

Personality?

He’s overly sensitive; it's easier for him to sympathize and empathize with others, may notice subtleties and nuances that others might overlook, has strong intuition or gut feelings,...

And that sensitivity, however, sometimes leads him to be overwhelmed by almost everything, intense emotions can lead him to heavy mood swings, emotional outbursts, etc..

A bit weird, weird as in goofy-weird. Sometimes, he'd be a bit too straightforward and blunt.

He's a hot mess filled with emotions, however. Very insecure of himself.

Gets scared easily.

Additional Info

Loves flowers and flower language. Has a floriography book kept inside his apartment that he often reads. If things had gone in his ways, he would’ve become a botanist just like his father.

Absolutely loves food. A total foodie. You could persuade him with just food and he’d gladly accept.

Doesn't seem to have a favourite food or drink, since it varies from time to time.

He’d sleep for a long time. Calls it a nap when dude naps for like almost 7 hours.

Bad at cooking. Don’t let him cook (figuratively and literally).

Reminisces about his past memories of family and friends sometimes. Despite all of these agonizing years, he still remembers their faces and memories vividly.

A dog lover, but likes cats too.

Origin?

Tamaki was a human before. The cause of his transformation was due to a monster cell being forced inside his throat by two mysterious beings.

The incident happened 4 years ago, the day when his family and friends died due to a mad cyborg destroying his hometown. He was severely injured with burn scars covering his body.

Let’s not forget that monster cells are very largely mutated virus cell that transforms humans into monsters upon entering the human body. When a human becomes a monster, they experience bloodlust, sadism, ecstasy, insanity and a loss of humanity, morality, and even rational thought.

Despite that, Tamaki was be able to retain enough of his humanity and is now the person he is today, the complete opposite.

How is that possible?

Right.. It doesn’t make sense in the context of monster cells. I do have one explanation that makes some sense?

He possesses an inherent resistance or genetic anomaly that confers immunity to the transformative effects of the monster cell. Or he’s just that strong mentally?

His biological makeup or genetic predisposition prevents the cell from fully corrupting his psyche or altering his physiology in the same way it affects other individuals. This resistance could be the result of a rare mutation or genetic trait that sets him apart from others affected by the monster cell.

You could say that he’s a special case.

Set of abilities, physiology

In his human form, Tamaki appears entirely normal to the naked eye.

In his monster form (which he is absolutely dreadful about and never ever wants to appear in that way), an aberration. His body undergoes a grotesque transformation, resembling a mass of writhing flesh and sinew. His form is constantly shifting and undulating, with eyes and mouths appearing and disappearing at random intervals. The surface of his body is covered in pulsating veins and arteries, giving the impression of a living, breathing organism.

He also possesses a unique ability to transform specific parts of his body into something else, including powerful weapons without the need for a full transformation. These transformations occur seamlessly and instantaneously, allowing him to adapt to various combat situations.. when he’s willing to.

He can manifest tentacle-like appendages made of fleshy, yet durable, material from any part of his body, such as his arms, hands, or even his back. These appendages can extend and retract at will. Their fleshy texture provides a level of flexibility and resilience.

Additionally, Tamaki has the ability to alter the structure of these appendages, imbuing them with different properties to suit his needs. For example, he can transform the bone within his fleshy appendages into two distinct materials: standard bone for blunt force impact and a sharp, metallic-like substance for slicing through obstacles or adversaries.

He possesses regeneration abilities that allow his body to rapidly heal from injuries. When he sustains wounds, whether from physical trauma or attacks, his body initiates a regeneration process. This process involves the rapid replication and replacement of damaged cells, tissues, and even organs. The regeneration time varies depending on the severity of the injury.

Tamaki can manifest a specialized appendage resembling a serpent's fleshy tongue or tentacle, tipped with a venomous stinger or mouth-like structure. This appendage is capable of injecting potent venom into his enemies upon contact, causing paralysis, hallucinations, or even death depending on the type and potency of the venom.

How?

His central nervous system plays a crucial role in initiating and controlling the transformation process. When Tamaki decides to manifest a weaponized (or not) appendage, signals are sent from his brain to the targeted area of his body, activating the genetic instructions stored within the cells. These instructions guide the synthesis and assembly of specialized proteins and cellular components necessary for the formation of the weaponized appendage.

As the transformation process begins, Tamaki’s cells undergo rapid reorganization and restructuring. Cell membranes stretch and contort to accommodate the formation of the fleshy appendage, while internal organelles rearrange to support its functionality. The transformation is driven by biochemical signaling pathways that regulate cell growth, differentiation, and movement.

His ability to alter the bone structure of his fleshy appendages is achieved through the manipulation of mineral deposition and protein synthesis within his cells. By modulating the activity of specific enzymes and regulatory proteins, he can control the composition and properties of the bone material. For instance, he can induce the formation of standard bone tissue for blunt force impact or trigger the deposition of metallic-like minerals for enhanced sharpness and cutting ability.

At the cellular level, molecules and proteins within his body coordinate the regeneration process, guiding the reconstruction of tissues and organs. Cells proliferate and migrate to the site of the injury, where they differentiate into specialized cell types to rebuild the damaged structures. Additionally, Tamaki’s body may produce specialized proteins or growth factors that stimulate cell growth and tissue repair, accelerating the healing process. As the regeneration progresses, the newly regenerated tissues knit together, forming a seamless bond that restores his body to its pre-injury state. This "sewing" together of tissues ensures that the regenerated area is structurally sound and fully functional.

His ability to produce venom is rooted in his body's biochemical synthesis capabilities. Within his cells, specialized glands or organs produce and store venomous compounds, which are then transported to the tip of the appendage through a network of veins and ducts.

Way too OP. Limits?

While his abilities make him powerful when necessary, he lacks the aggressive instincts or killer instinct of more battle-hardened threats. As a result, he struggles to fully utilize his powers in combat situations, preferring to seek peaceful resolutions or avoid conflict altogether whenever possible. His moral code stops him from causing harm to others unless absolutely necessary for self-defense or the protection of others. This constraint limits his willingness to use his abilities to their full potential, as he hesitates to employ lethal force or inflict serious injury, even when doing so would be in his best interest. Not to mention, his pacifist nature makes him easily be manipulated. After all, he doesn’t like to be reminded that he would be viewed as a monster by the society at the end of the day.

Energy consumption is gonna hit him like a semi-truck. Prolonged or intense use of his abilities can lead to fatigue and exhaustion, leaving him vulnerable and unable to access his powers until he has had time to rest.

His regeneration ability isn’t instantaneous. The regeneration time varies depending on the severity of the injury, with more severe wounds taking longer to heal.

Although Tamaki can transform parts of his body into weapons or other forms, he has limited control over the exact nature or appearance of these transformations. In times of stress or duress, his transformations may become erratic or uncontrollable, leading to unintended consequences or malformations, which happens a lot.

He is susceptible to interference or inhibition by certain substances, energies, or environmental conditions. Exposure to extreme temperatures, electromagnetic fields, or magical wards will disrupt his abilities or render them temporarily ineffective.

His clothes are going to be ripped due to the appendages sprouting from his body. He is not mentally ready to just find himself in awkward situations where he’s suddenly exposed or partially naked. (i’m looking at zomebieman)

Despite the regeneration ability, he still has healed scars from the past..

While his body is capable of regenerating physical injuries, his mind still bears the scars of the traumatic incident.

These psychological scars manifest as memories, fears, and unresolved emotions that persist even after his physical injuries have healed. His scars serves as a reminder, however, that only makes him worse to remember that dreadful day.

More information

He doesn’t need to eat or drink. Tamaki’s monstrous anatomy has altered his metabolism, rendering him no longer reliant on traditional sources of sustenance such as food and water. Despite that, he still likes to eat and drink because he likes the taste, aroma, texture of different foods and beverages, indulging in them for the sake of pleasure rather than necessity.

Sometimes, inconvenient transformations can happen, they don’t always occur in the most opportune moments. He may find himself unexpectedly sprouting tentacles or fleshy appendages during mundane activities such as eating dinner, going out, sleeping, etc.. Why? They can be triggered by subconscious cues, such as stress, excitement, or heightened emotions. When Tamaki experiences strong emotions or undergoes intense psychological states, his body instinctively responds by activating his transformation abilities, even when he doesn't intend for them to occur.

#art #artists on tumblr #digital art #oc #one punch man #opm #opm oc #original character #reference sheet

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slashesotron · 2 years

Photo

Let’s play a little game…

Through October and November, I’ll post a total of FOUR of these ballots- and you get to vote on what happens to poor Patchouli- or Atlas- next! 🩸

Welcome to the third annual Hurt My MC! Read on to see how this works, and to vote!

HOW TO PLAY

You MUST be 18+, NO EXCEPTIONS

Pick a character from the grid (Note - don’t choose between Patchouli and Atlas - see #5)

Pick prompts by NUMBER ONLY from the lists under the cut - This year, you can either pick ONE gore prompt and TWO kink prompts, or TWO gore prompts and NO kink prompts instead!

Reply to this post with your choice - For example, E-2-22-25 (gore & kink) or E-2-14 (gore only)

I use a random number generator to determine the winning prompt, flip a coin to decide which MC will be subjected to it, and draw!

Please only play once per ballot to keep things fair! If you’re worried about your main showing up in the notes, you can send me an anon with your vote- but please be sure to include what round it’s for.

PROMPT LIST UNDER THE CUT + image credits 💖

My prompt list is an amalgamation of several different ones because I like to keep things flexible- if one is yours, and you’d like it removed, please contact me!

I’ve included some OCs I love who belong to friends (who you’ve seen here before)! You can click on the character name for a profile! The ballot will change on round three, so keep that in mind!

▶ CHARACTER LIST - CHOOSE ONE

▶ LIST PROMPTS BY LETTER ONLY

A. Avery - Art by @quiescentlunacy

B. Shattered!Dondon

C. Juniper

D. Subject 701 / ‘Johnny’

I. The Executioner / Pyramid Head - Silent Hill / Dead By Daylight

▶ GORE PROMPTS

▶ LIST PROMPTS BY NUMBER ONLY

Cannibalism // Feast // Consensual gore

Bear trap // Teeth // The romantic full moon

Battle // Bones // Blood Bath

Bandages // Ow, my head // Reverse bear trap

Zombie // Skewered // Hunter becomes hunted

Sick // Ribcage // Surreal gore

Ritualistic Sacrifice // Excessive Gashes // Dark magic

Decapitation // The experiment // Impaled

Cuts / Lacerations // Under the skin // Segmentation

Stitches // Autopsy // Body modification

Execution / Mori // Mouth trauma // Keeping a trophy

CHAINSAW // The chase scene // Just like in the movies

Excessive blood // Barbed wire // Chest cavity

Is this a hallucination? // Father forgive me // Gunshot

Surgery // Amputation // Scars // It burns

It’s just a shadow // Body horror // The murder weapon

Rearranged // Extra Limbs / Eyes / Etc // Knife

Power tools // Torture // Dripping blood

Monster Form // Robotic Parts / Prosthetics // Arrows

A message on the glass // Monster-like features

Machines // Distorted Body / Broken Bone // Beaten

Bruises // Animal / beast wounds // Backstabbed

Medical treatment // Light from beneath // Nosebleed

Kill for me! // Possession / Corruption // Meat hook

▶ KINK PROMPTS

▶ LIST PROMPTS BY NUMBER ONLY

25. Degradation | Hair pulling

26. Exhibitionism/Voyeurism | Stockings

27. Creampie | Threesome

28. Role Reversal | Humiliation

29. Bondage | Wound fucking

30. Drool | Necrophilia

31. Power imbalance | Mirror Sex

32. Body Swap | Aphrodisiacs

33. Master/Slave | Masturbation

34. Uniforms | Glasses

35. Collaring | Stripping

36. Shotgunning | Seduction

37. Spit-roasting | Shibari

38. Cock Worship | Dacryphilia

39. Fucking Machine | Begging

40. Pet Play | Somnophilia

41. Licking | Costume

42. Against a wall | Toys

43. Sensory Deprivation | Face-Sitting

44. Knife Play | Object Insertion

45. Deep-Throating | Dirty talk

46. Shower/Bath | Fingers in mouth

47. Lingerie | Intercrural

48. Masks | Corset

49. Public | Cross-dressing

50. Gags | Omorashi

51. Teeth | Overstimulation

52. Formal Wear | Size Difference

53. Glory hole | Gun Play

54. Double+ Penetration | Handjobs

55. Biting | Spanking

56. Sadism/Masochism | Daddy

57. Fisting | Boot Worship

▶ Please make sure you have ONE LETTER and THREE NUMBERS if you're using gore & kink prompts! ▶ Please make sure you have ONE LETTER and TWO NUMBERS if you're ONLY using gore prompts! ▶ Gore & Kink prompts: Character - Gore prompt - Kink prompt 1 - Kink prompt 2 ▶ Gore prompts ONLY: Character - Gore prompt 1 - Gore prompt 2 ▶ Post them in this format: A-1-2-3 OR A-1-2 ▶ Thank you! ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ

#goretober #whumptober #guro #gore #btd #tpof #loverstrophy #murderoc #yandere #male yandere #hurt my mc #hmmc #hmmc voting ballot #hmmc 2022 #minors dni #unlisted age dni #dead dove do not eat

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cassiekayscreams · 5 months

Text

Jeckyll and Hyde Miraculous AU

Miraculous has come up again in my hyperfixation cycle, so I’ve decided to revive an old concept I never had the time or energy to do anything with. In fact, I’ll probably just drop this and then disappear into obscurity again. I love the idea of the civilians and superheroes actually being different people - sort of a Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde situation. (More directly inspired by Jackson Jekyll and Holt Hyde from Monster High; I never read the original Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde so I don’t know how much of an accurate representation it is.) So instead of the miraculous holder having a Kwami that transforms them into a superhero, the miraculous basically allows the superhero person to “possess”? the person. The holder and superhero share a body, though the appearance transforms when the superhero “takes over.” The holder/host is completely unaware that they are the superheroes/that the superheroes are inhabiting their same body, other than they black out for extended periods of time and come to in different places or situations than they last remember. The heroes, meanwhile, are aware enough that they are inhabiting another person’s body and they’re aware enough of their lives to know things they need to know to protect their identities - where they live and go to school, who their family is, etc. But they don’t share memories with the host so they don’t feel the same way about people. They’re their own separate person with their own separate ideas, relationships, and personalities.

Key Differences from Canon Rather than “miraculous holders” being chosen based on their own personality traits (ie Marinette and Adrien both showed kindness and self-sacrifice in helping Fu), it’s based on if their auras are comparable with and can sustain the miraculous. No kwamis Since holders/hosts don’t really realize they’re the superheroes/villains (am gonna have to come up with a name for this persona/form of them), the miraculous can’t be misused in the sense that the person chooses to use it for evil. Instead, the miraculous itself, and thus the “possessor”, is corrupted and evil. The holder/host may even be a good person and not realize their alter ego is evil. Opposite can be true with heroes, as well.

Marinette

Characteristics -Anxious overthinker -Clumsy -Hard time standing up for herself but will absolutely stand up for others, especially her friends -Chronic people pleaser -Very sweet but has a hard time making friends (comes off as shy; is kind of wary of opening up to others) Differences from Canon -Instead of her improved confidence coming from her being Ladybug and also support from Tikki, it’s from her new friends (namely Alya) -No Tikki to help keep her from spiraling

Ladybug

Characteristics -Fairly serious/no-nonsense -Very focused -Excellent strategist -Civically minded -Major sweet tooth Differences from Canon -Opinions of others not colored by Marinette’s relationships with them (no favoritism to the Ladyblog due to Alya being Marinette’s friend, no crush on Adrien from knowing him at school) -Since Mari is unaware she is Ladybug, Ladybug can’t be used to solve Marinette problems (swinging across town when running late, checking on Adrien, telling Lila off) -Ladybug eats a bunch of sweets instead of Tikki

Adrien

Characteristics -Chronic people pleaser -Lonely and isolated -Sheltered sunshine child that’s secretly depressed (neglect’ll do that to ya) -Longs for acceptance, friendship, and love -His father still forced him to be a model, but on his own, he’s actually quite the bookworm/nerd due to using books, video games, and shows/movies for escapism -Totally geeks out over there being real life superheroes, which gives his slight crush on Ladybug Differences from Canon -Doesn’t get the benefits of escape/freedom as Chat Noir -Hasn’t interacted with Ladybug as Chat Noir and doesn’t know about what she’s like in person, so his crush on her is really just a celebrity crush -Not a sentimonster cuz I don’t wanna deal with that nonsense

Chat Noir

Characteristics -Chaos gremlin -Somewhat feral and unhinged -Genuinely a Good Boy but comes off off-putting -Public probably wouldn’t like him if not for Ladybug -Easily distracted -I Do What I Want -Sneaky -Cat -Loves cheese, esp Camembert Differences from Canon -Opinions of others not colored by Adrien’s relationships with them -Doesn’t have all of the trauma that comes along with being Adrien -Chat Noir eats the Camembert instead of Plagg

#Jeckyll'n'Hyde Miraculous AU #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous #Ladybug and Chat Noir #digital art #artist on tumblr #I've been holding onto this hyperfixation with a death grip so I could write and draw stuff before it moved on #Miraculous fanart #Jeckyll’n’Hyde Miraculous AU

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the---hermit · 10 months

Text

Juniper And Thorn by Ava Reid

Last year I read The Wolf And The Woodsman by the same author, and I was surprised by the great idea behind that novel. There were a couple of elements that weren't perfect, but the core idea was amazing, and I had a similar feeling with this new book. There has been a lot of criticism for Juniper And Thorn online, and I'll talk a bit about that too, because although this book was certainly not perfect I don't agree with most of what I read online. The author defines this book a gothic horror, which I think a lot of people didn't really get and thought they were just going into a fantasy story. I didn't get as much gothic vibes as I would have liked, but this book is definitely a dark fairytale that borders to horror, which is a mix of things I adore. Horror-ish fairytales are some of my favourite stories, and I think this book was a great addition to this kind of books. As I said it wasn't perfect for me but I really enjoyed it.

Before going into everything let's talk a bit about the plot. As I mentioned it feels very much like a fairytale, and the way it's narrated makes it very clear. The story is set in an industrial city of clear slavic inspiration, which was on its own a great idea. I loved the early industral revolution setting, it's not something I have seen a lot personally, and I feel like it was a really cool background for this story. The main character is the younger of three daughters of a famous wizard. They too have magical powers, and essentially their father uses them to make money. The father, a powerful wizard who was cursed to feel perpetual hunger and dissatisfaction, is very possessive of his daughters and is prone to anger. Of course this mix of elements creats an incredibly toxic family dynamic, that also influences the three sisters in their own relationships to each other. Things get more complicated when after sneeking out with her older sisters the main character goes to the theater and is infatuated with one of the dancers. In the background of the story there's also a theme of serial murders that some people attribute to a monster.

Let's start with my personal opinions on the book. The writing was beautiful, this author is very skilled with words, and as I mentioned the idea was really cool. I personally would have liked the murders to be a bit more present all throughout the story, but the story had other focuses and that's okay. The main things I didn't love were the fact that the main character is sometimes quite annoying, and some characters then to be a bit repetitive. If I view the story more as a fairytale than as a novel I can definitely excuse this, becuase it really gave more of a fairytale vibe, but sometimes it was a bit too much for me. There were also a couple of things I didn't love about the ending, but they are spoilers so you'll find them under the cut. With this being sad I don't really agree with what I mostly read online of people complaining on how sexual the story is. Sex and sexualization are definitely a big theme of the story, but exacly for the fact that it's a big theme of the book I didn't find it inapropriate. I think it made sense in the story. Our main character has a sort of sexual awakening when she sees the dancer for the first time, she has never had a chance to experience that, and I think it was perfectly okay for her to have this reaction to seeing him. In the rest of the story this theme continues in a positive and a negative line, the first being the main character learning sex and desire are not just corruption and an evil things as her father has taught her, and the latter as her trying to make sense and make peace with and trying to heal from her traumas surrounding abuse and being sexualized. I honestly don't see why people took so negatively this theme. My main hypotesis is that they feel like more sexual themes only belong in smutty fantasy romance and they look down on it, but I honestly don't see a problem with sex being a theme to a story like Juniper And Thorn. Actually I think it's good to have books that are not romance deal with these themes too, I'm honestly tired of the idea that sex is a taboo we should avoid talking about. With this being said if someone comes around this post and had an opposite reaction to mine to the book I would love to hear the reasons behind it. Of course everyone of us reads stories differently and I am always interested in hearing the opions of those who had a completly different reading experience to mine. Another element I feel like some people might have had troubles with is the fact that it's a pretty violet story, I am not sure how the book was advertised, but it's definitely not just a fantasy story, it has a lot of horror elements and the author made it pretty clear. As I meantioned above, the author called it a gothic horror story, I personally would have liked more gothic vibes than I got, but there's definitely pretty graphic horror elements, so if that's something you don't like it's really not the book for you. To conclude this infinite rant about this book, I really enjoyed it even though a few things weren't perfect. This author has very interesting ideas, and I am curious to know what she will come up with next.

The spolery elements of the story I wasn't a fan of are firstly the trope of sisters beeing very mean to each other and betraying each other. In general it is a theme I do not like so even though it worked and it made sense I didn't love seeing the story going into that direction. But as I said I know I am biased on that. Seconly I didn't love how it was Sevas, the love interest, to stab the father in the end. If the main character couldn't do it herself, which would make sense due to her toxic relationship with her father, at least I would have had her sister pick up the knife. Again in the fairytale spirit of the story it makes sense, but it wasn't necessary for the love interest to be the one doing it in my opinion.

#2023 book #book #bookblr #books #reading #book rec #book review #book recommendation #juniper and thorn #ava reid #book cover #mine #the---hermit

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