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princessanonymous · 16 days

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Of Trials- Part 1 (Ask)

Platonic Yandere Vampire

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This is from an ask someone sent to me privatly. I liked the idea so much that I decided to make multiples little chapters. I think I will write two other chapters after this one. Keep in mind that you'll need to read the main story, When Night Comes (Linked aboved) to understand this. :)

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Reading under a dimly lit candle was an activity Dorian quite enjoyed when he was on his own. It gave him a moment to ponder on things and relax. As the night wore on and the hours melted away, he found himself lost in contemplation, the outside world a mere whisper in the recesses of his mind. His husband and daughter, out attending to their nocturnal needs, left him to his own devices, a scenario he relished.

Soon, however, his moment of quietude was abruptly disturbed by a person knocking at the door downstairs. Startled from his reverie, he glanced at the clock, puzzled by the uncharacteristically early return of his family. Concern etched his features as he pondered the reason for their abrupt return. He wondered if perhaps something had happened. Before he could ponder further, a soft servant's voice echoed from below, announcing the presence of an unexpected visitor. Setting aside his beloved books, he rose from his comfortable armchair and made his way down the creaking stairs, his footsteps echoing in the silence of the house.

The first thing he noticed was the lack of heartbeat. His senses on high alert, he tensed, his gaze narrowing as he assessed the stranger before him. The individual had yet to be invited in, but he knew that even an uninvited vampire was not to be trusted.

The woman's presence exuded an aura of refinement, her brown locks cascading gracefully around her face, which bore the hallmark crimson hue of a recent feeding. Despite the evidence of her nocturnal activities, she appeared immaculate, a testament to her self-discipline and restraint. Her poised demeanor hinted at years of experience, suggesting a vampire of considerable age and standing within their society. Yet, for all her apparent prestige, he found himself unable to recall encountering her at any of the prestigious gatherings that dotted their social calendar.

More striking, however, was the peculiar sensation stirring within him, a faint echo of recognition dancing at the edges of his consciousness.There was a form of familiarity there, he knew that woman. From where, he didn't know. And that was a scary thought.

He stood there in front of the door and she just looked at him and smirked, having seen a form of curious recognition in his eyes. "Leaving a guest outside, how impolite."

Summoning his resolve, he met her gaze squarely, his voice edged with a mixture of apprehension and defiance. "Who are you?" he demanded, his words echoing in the dimly lit foyer.

In response, she offered a chilling laugh, her demeanor unyielding in the face of his inquiry. Clenching his jaw in frustration, he awaited her response, steeling himself for whatever revelations lay ahead. "You may call me Elizabetta," she declared, her voice dripping with an icy arrogance that sent a chill coursing through him. "Your younger sister."

It was as if all the air had been sucked out of his lungs, leaving him gasping for breath in the wake of her revelation. A sensation long forgotten, buried beneath the layers of his immortal existence, clawed its way to the surface, reminding him of the vulnerability that lingered beneath his immortal facade. His mouth went dry, parched as if he hadn't tasted blood in months. With each futile attempt to form words, his throat constricted, constricting like a vice around his vocal cords. Finally, in a barely audible whisper, he dared to voice the question that weighed heavily upon his mind.

"From the same sire?" he inquired, his voice barely more than a hoarse murmur. He cursed himself for stating the obvious, for grasping at straws in the face of this unsettling revelation.

She acquiesced curtly, "I was turned twenty two years after you. Mikhail took me in, taught me everything. May I come in? We have some matters to discuss."

The urge to slam the door shut, to banish this unwelcome intruder from his threshold, surged within him like a tide of fury. He harbored no desire to revisit the memories of his sire, to confront the horrors of his transformation that still haunted his darkest dreams. Memories of the red glow in the night – the pain, the screams, and the thrust, and then the blood and rain on his shivering form – came flooding back in.

Yet, somehow, with all that, he found himself inviting her in. With a grace that belied her vampiric nature, she stepped across the threshold, her presence casting a dark shadow over the once serene atmosphere of his abode. She looked around the entrance hall in wonder, appraising the manor critically. Seated in the tea room, the air thick with unspoken tension, they were served tea, a customary gesture of hospitality that she regarded with thinly veiled disdain.

"The food of mortals," commented his guest with a small sneer, "Whyever would you waste your time on such things, brother?" The taunting way in which she said the last word did not go unnoticed. She had been aware of his existence while he had never thought of this possibility. She tried to assert her dominance, even in his own home.

“I have the money to spend on such things,” he bit back easily, then he chuckled. “I suppose some aren’t as fortunate." His quip earned a sour grimace from his sis– the woman, a silent acknowledgment of his victory in their verbal sparring match. Yet, beneath her veneer of disdain, he sensed a simmering resentment, a jealousy that threatened to boil over at any moment.

As the silence stretched between them, punctuated only by the steady tick-tock of the grandfather clock, their gaze locked in a silent battle of wills. Dorian savored the taste of his tea, a calculated display of indifference in the face of her scrutiny. He set his cup down with a light clank and joined his hands together.

"While this meeting was pleasant, if you do not have anything to say to me – "

"What is so special about you?" she demanded, her voice tinged with bitterness as she voiced the question that seemed to have long plagued her thoughts.

He sneered, "What are you saying?"

"He speaks of you often, constantly, ‘My greatest creation.’ he says," she announced, jealousy contorted with her sharp features, "I have been present; you haven't. Why are you his favorite?"

Dorian's laughter rang hollow in the stillness of the room, a thin veil masking the unease that gnawed at the edges of his composure. The notion that their sire maintained a watchful eye over him sent a shiver down his spine, stirring dormant fears that he had long sought to suppress.

He put a hand on his chest. "Oh, dear sister," he cooed mockingly, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he feigned pity. "Is that it? Are you here because our oh so esteemed sire does not give you the attention you desperately crave?" His words, laced with false sympathy, cut through the tension like a knife, a calculated attempt to deflect her accusations.

She gritted her teeth angrily and clenched her fists. Dorian remained steadfast in his resolve, unwilling to be drawn into her petty grievances. "Why you?" she asked again.

"I am afraid you are simply inadequate," he said with a shrug. He loved the sight of her face turning red in rage. It was such a delightful thing to see. But as satisfying as her reaction might have been, Dorian knew that this confrontation served no purpose, that her presence in his home was an unwelcome intrusion. She held no information that should concern him. He wanted nothing to do with his sire, he wanted no reminder of him yet this woman was waltzing in to involve him in her irrelevant problems. "Leave " he ordered.

"You were never -"

"I don't care!" He finally snapped loudly, losing his composure and revealing more than he intended to, "He left me! I barely know anything about him!”

But before he could gather his thoughts, a voice cut through the tension, drawing his attention away from the tumultuous whirlwind of emotions that threatened to consume him. Turning towards the sound, he found himself face to face with his beloved partner and their daughter, the unexpected sight grounding him in the present moment.

"Papa, who is that?" A small yet confident voice asked. He straightened himself and turned around in surprise. There stood his daughter (Y/n) and his partner placed protectively in front of her. Dorian hadn't even noticed their return.

"Oh, nobody starshine," he assured her. He sent a glare at the lady. "She will leave soon."

"So the rumors are true," commented the woman as she looked down at the small girl.

"You indeed sired an immortal child." There was glee and triumph in her eyes.

At these words, Killian whispered something in the girl’s ear and (Y/N) opened her mouth to argue, but he sent her a look before leaving the room soon after. Dorian sent him a thankful look; this should not concern (Y/n).

"Leave at once," he repeated once again with more insistence.

“It is a good thing, I suppose, that I had preemptively warned the Night Council about this. You have been summoned to appear in front of them for the crime of siring an immortal child," she declared, her tone devoid of remorse as she extended the damning missive towards him.

As the letter changed hands, Dorian felt a surge of dread wash over him, a cold knot forming in the pit of his stomach.

#platonic yandere #yandere platonic #yandere vampire #yandere father #obsession #yandere #vampire #platonic #x reader #reader insert #child reader #yandere x reader #fanfic #(y/n)#female reader #dorian isnt ok #but then again when is he?

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lylahammar · 4 months

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Randomly thinkin about Chilchuck today, and how he tries sooooo hard to self sabotage

like for example, other half foots on the island think that he's a greedy asshole who only cares about money, and he does nothing to try to disprove that

but then there's this omake at the end of book 9 that shows that people treat half foots fucking TERRIBLY and chilchuck started a union to protect them

and then in the bicorn chapter, he doesn't want Marcille to keep digging into his personal business so he tells her he CHEATED ON HIS WIFE

but he just COMPLETELY fuckin lied about that and made himself sound so much worse than he is bc he's afraid of being vulnerable with people and would rather everyone believes he's a shitty person so he can keep them at a distance

and the thing that's memed so often is that he refuses to help with fighting most of the time because it's not part of his contract

but if you take this lore into account (not gonna add those particular images to this post simply bc I've used them in so many posts already LMAO) along with this tidbit from the world guide:

then it's like. yeah he has to keep his weight low so if he gets killed or severely injured and has to be healed, that could be really dangerous for him. and even if he was healed at that point he'd end up being a burden to the party after that point, he would be too dangerously thin/sickly to be able to help.

Like, Chilchuck has so many things about him that APPEAR to be character flaws, but every single one of them has a very reasonable explanation. He just leans into the mischaracterization bc he's emotionally withholding and can handle people thinking he's an asshole more than he can handle opening up to anyone. he's such a well thought out and interesting character

#someone commented about his weight management on my fatness lore post and it got me spinning chil around in my brain #had to do a lil infodumpy post about it eheh #it's fun to make fun of chilchuck but he's really secretly a very kind and selfless guy when it comes down to it #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #delicious in dungeon #delicious in dungeon spoilers #chilchuck tims #long post #lyla's talking again

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