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#castlevania x black!reader
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🦇𝒯he  𝒱isitor (Alucard Tepes x BlackReader) Pt.7
PART 7 SUMMARY:
You and Alucard traipse from town to town together...until trouble strikes in the form of claws, fangs and delayed vengeance. With you left shaken and marked, your host isn’t keen on letting you back out of the castle anytime soon. Normally, this stifling limitation would annoy you...but Alucard has been spending more time with you, lately. Getting closer and closer...
...perhaps being stuck in the castle isn’t so bad, after all?
─── Alucard x black female reader
─── imagery + fiction
─── explicit smut
─── Fantasy, vampires, hurt/comfort, enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, magic user, cute bats, gardening, cooking, cottagecore MC, castlecore Alucard.
☾ previous. ☾ next.
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The next chilly morning, true to his word, you and Alucard make your way down to the garden to gather the harvest.
You’ve switched into a road dress, not wanting to let the nicer gowns that Alucard has conjured for you go to waste. Your hair is bundled up in a scarf neatly behind your head. You’re wearing gloves, ready to work. Alucard makes his way over to the garden and leans down, showing you how he intends to prepare the harvest to take into town.
“This is how we’ll wrap them. Watch closely...You see? Show me.”
He is watchful at first, instructing you on how to bind and rope the packaging just so. It is to keep any of the stock from falling to the wayside while you’re both on horseback, leaving a trail of produce behind you. 
His eyes are as sharp as ever, framed by lowered, dusky blonde lashes as he takes in your handiwork. The low rumblings of his voice give constructive critique, and you manage to avoid any accidents under his gaze. You wonder what he thinks of your hands briefly, before refocusing on the task.
You’re curious now, finding his instructive personality to be a much calmer one than his default. He seems so sure of himself here in the garden, and less walled off. Prepping vegetables is clearly something he had learned prior to your visit (as unseemly as it seemed to be for someone like him), and it is something he seemed more than willing to teach. Alucard seemed like one who liked to learn, now you thought of it.
Soon after, you wait as Alucard spirits away. He reappears with Brutus at his side and together, you prep the saddlebags before mounting the steed and taking off into the woods.
You lean back into Alucard as you watch the tree leaves speed by overhead, the feel of hooves stamping and thrumming through you both. The sound is rhythmic, soothing, and the smell of the green fills you. Alucard’s cologne mixes in with it, his hair beating against his back, with stray locks falling past your shoulders. It is still cool, yet the heat of the horse and his heavy riding gear warms you both. 
You sigh, realizing.
‘I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,’ you think.
Eventually, you arrive in town and it is lively. You sell everything, making a good profit. You know it isn’t needed, but it is nice to have something to do. You talk to vendors and merchants, your tongue wagging in conversation and your mood feeling light.
‘No,’ you readjust. ‘It’s not in the woods I want to be. Perhaps here? This town? But there’s nothing special about it…’
Currently passing by a stand of jewelers while in thought, one of them reaches out to you, giving you pause. You look into a wrinkled face.
“Yes?”
“A necklace for you, girl? A ring, an anklet?”
You stare at the wares, considering. You’re not here for jewelry you remember, though they are pretty.
“I couldn’t, but thank you.” You say.
“Oh, but you could. What a lovely dress you have on. Never seen one like it.”
You look down to your dress, another that arose from the depths of Alucard’s inventory. It is simpler in comparison to what you know him to have from the clothes you’ve seen this far.
“Thank you,” you say.
“Did your husband gift that to you?” the jeweler inquires, gesturing over your shoulder. You follow their gaze and realize they are looking at Alucard across the stalls, across the road itself. He is kneeling near a tavern wall, gifting coins to some street children, an old woman or two huddled beside the shadows of the building. 
He does not realize you are looking. He doesn’t know you are watching him give what you’ve both earned away to those that need it.
You find yourself surprised. You thought that Alucard ignored most of the world outside his castle and his surroundings. He could certainly afford to. Someone like him would never need to understand or empathize with the destitute and the ill. The human.
And yet there he was. 
“He’s…not my husband.” you find your lips saying to the merchant as you continue to watch Alucard.
“But you came into town with him.” The voice is suddenly sharp. You turn to look and see the merchant appears oddly hostile.
“What concern is it of yours?” you say, retreating a step back.
“Nice dress,” the merchant spits. “He is finely dressed, like you. He gives money away like water. Your skin is clear and dewy. You want for nothing. It’s in the way you move. Slow, measured. You can afford the jewelry. You can.”
You find yourself turning to go, yet the offending seller follows you down the line of stalls.
“Are you a mistress? A hanger-on? Does his wife know? How shameless of you, to parade around like this. The things young ladies do for money, these days.”
Your temper gets the best of you. By the time you feel it, it is too late.
You turn around and crowd in on the seller. Their eyes widen, understanding very quickly that the dynamic has changed. They take a step back. You follow.
“Go on, do slander me. Great sales tactic, I’m sure your wares fly off the shelves, the customers love it so much! And not that it’s any of your fucking business, but do tell me; how you would know anything about what I do and why?”
“...Why else would an unwed woman be out and about with a man so blatantly—”
“ —I could be anything, you bint. I could be a mercenary with a partner, a scholar with a professor, a diplomat with a guide…is your mind so small that the only thing you could conjure is an escort? Even if I was, I still wouldn’t buy your jewelry…you insult me, and you insult him. I won’t have it.”
“Is there a problem?”
You and the seller turn to find Alucard towering over your shoulder.
“No,” you and the seller say in unison, one out of fear and one out of dismissiveness.
Alucard gestured to the gems in the jeweler’s hands, plucking a shining necklace from the bunch easily. The jeweler tremored a bit, looking between you both.
“Ah, sir...your wife was simply looking at my wares. Pretty things for a pretty thing.”
Alucard holds the necklace up beside your face then, not answering the seller. He doesn’t refute or explain, only watches you. You watch his eyes take you in alongside the gem before he seems to make a decision. 
He clutches the necklace back into his grip and hands some coins over to the seller wordlessly. The seller mumbles their thanks before shuffling away, seemingly disbelieving that they made a sale after such a torrid argument.
Alucard dangles the necklace before you. “Do you like it?”
You frown. “You heard what they said to me.”
“I heard you defend our honor.”
“Is this a thanks for that?”
“This is because I want to.”
You pause then, a bit taken aback. 
“I suppose...it’s pretty,” you try.
Alucard situates behind you, fastening the necklace to your neck before clasping it together.
“Then,” his breath warms the back of your neck, “I suppose it’s yours.”
Together, you continue through town, the necklace on your neck. The gem weighs against your sternum and you wonder if other people are noticing it, noticing the two of you.
You are too nervous to inquire further on it.
Soon enough, the day’s dealings are done. On the way back home, you find yourself liking the woods once more, and then the castle itself upon the return home.
Home.
Ah.
‘I want to be where he is,’ you realize.
Yes. That’s it.
Alucard stalks up the steps before turning to you, curious.
“Coming?”
You find yourself smiling, not quite sure why. He also seems taken aback by the sudden expression.
“Yes. Let’s go home.”
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Every other week, the two of you venture into different towns for supplies. Sometimes you go with hooded shrouds, other times you walk freely out in the open. Sometimes Alucard takes you into the nearby towns, and sometimes he steers Brutus further out. You have a feeling he has a system on how he navigates the outside world, a system that keeps eyes off of him and keeps nosy townsfolk from tracking his identity. 
You love the trips. You love seeing other people and conversing with them, you love shopping through the inventory, you love getting the little bit of sun left in the chilly weather and you love going there and back with Alucard. He is like a patient specter…whether right next to your side or not, you have a feeling that he keeps his eyes and ears on you at all times.
It is during a return from another town, that something amiss happens.
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You’re riding in a wagon this time as Alucard directs Brutus, hitched and pulling the wagon along. It brings with it some new items, and a few things for you to use. You both could have went without any of it, you understand, but the socialization in bartering and trading was well worth it. It keeps the castle from feeling stifling, at times. You find yourself looking forward to return to it.
Brutus stops suddenly, rearing back a bit. Alucard’s eyes sharpen as he looks out into the forest, clearly hearing something. You watch him turn his head this way and that.
He calls your name. “__________, stay in the—”
You feel something drop into the wagon behind you, knocking things aside and pulling up close to your back.
It is not a warm presence. It is ice cold.
A hand grabs you roughly by the hair from behind, forcing you to bear your neck. You shriek in pain, unable to hide it. The shriek breaks into a gasp as you feel something sharp at the front of your throat, barely catching a gleam of the attacker’s blade.
Your head is wrenched so far back by the fist threatening to yank out your hair, that you can’t even lock eyes with Alucard. You can only focus on the trees lining above and try not to wrestle too much so that you don’t cut your own throat. 
‘This is very different from the last time I looked up like this,’ you note uselessly. ‘Let me understand who we’re fighting before I try anything…’
You quickly try tapping into other senses. You can hear two others drop nearby, on either side of the wagon. You can smell the scent of old blood and grime. 
Alucard doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t say a word. Brutus settles.
The one holding you at knifepoint laughs, their belly bouncing against your back. You feel sick.
“Little prince,” the one behind you calls. His voice is thick, like the seafaring folk of the north. “We heard the king is gone. Thought you were too. Guess it got mixed up in the letters.”
‘Vampires,’ you understand, putting it all together.
The breath rolling off your attacker smells rancid and you wince. Your captor notices, yanking you again and earning another whine out of you.
“Don’t like that, do you? Here, have some more—ah, ah, ah, little prince!” you feel the knife burrow a little closer in your skin, barely cutting it. “You’re fast, yes you are! But my knife will be faster. And your pretty little livestock will not recover from a blow like this. Hold your place.”
It is silent then, and another heavily accented voice from the side chips in.
“They say our leader never returned from your father’s castle,” it spits. “Where is Godbrand?”
“It seems,” Alucard clips in a low, threatening manner you’ve yet to hear yourself before, “you already know. What did you come for?”
“Godbrand,” they state again. “You will take us to him.”
Alucard laughs then, low and mirthless. “An army came and went. A rebellion began and ended. Where have you three been this whole time?”
You hear hissing and shuffling about. 
“Give her to me,” Alucard says, “and I let you live.”
The one behind you laughs again, curdling your stomach with the smell, the cruelty. 
“This isn’t a bargain or a trade, boy. Have you gone insane? Look at all this shit,” he kicks something in the wagon aside, “Cabbages! For a bloodsucker? Ha! You’re a trader now, Prince? You play merchant and house with this human whore? You, who can fly across nations, teleport through realities, and shapeshift into anything...taking this piece of shit wagon in the woods?”
The man spits and you pray it was to the side and not in your hair. Fucker.
“You sicken me! Weak. Your father would rattle to life if he knew what you were up to with those talents, wasting them for pussy. Like father, like son I guess.”
You can see the woods darken from where you are. You can spy the treetops begin to shroud in dark clouds. The air feels heavy.
Something is coming.
“You do not know my father,” Alucard says. “And as you said yourself…just like your pissant leader, your king is dead too.”
You shiver at the boldness in his statement, afraid of the knife slicing across your neck in retribution. Is he even thinking of you? But you hear it then…the vampire behind you…his breath hitches. You are saved from the foul smell. 
The vampires are afraid, you understand. Alucard knows this.
You decide to use this moment. You feel behind you for the vampire holding you hostage and try to focus the energy from your core. Sparks fly between your fingers and it is enough to jolt the assailant. You use his surprise to lean back into him, away from the knife and staggering him to the side.
It is the wrong move. The vampire simply uses inhuman strength to get you right back where he wants you, hands gripped in his fist behind your back and your neck under the blade. You’re both gasping from the struggle, but now with the vampire’s grip twisting your wrists instead of your hair, you can see Alucard and the others.
Alucard is closer, now. Just before the wagon, almost. His eyes burn into you before focusing on the attacker. You have never seen them more animalistic than that first day you met.
“See? Fast,” the assailant behind you sing-songs again. “But not faster than the knife!”
The other two vampires draw in behind Alucard, who pays them no mind. The one behind you tightens his grip on you. You feel your eyes begin to traitorously well up, all the emotions running high from this dangerous situation and frustration from being unable to reach Alucard…safety…who is just out of arm’s reach.
“What’s so special about this one?” the vampire asks, nudging his face against yours tauntingly. His beard leaves a burn behind that you despise. “Can’t be what’s under the dress. Those are all the same. Maybe it’s the blood?”
You feel a tongue lathe at your cheek then, and groan in disgust as you try to inch away without running towards the knife. It’s impossible, and you’re trapped in the game of cat and mouse.
Alucard’s eyes darken even further.
“I think,” Alucard begins, his voice steady and his footsteps backing slowly away from the wagon, “you abandoned your posts. I think you felt that you could slither back from where you came without Godbrand…only to find others like him, who would rip you apart for your cowardice. You thought by coming here you would spare yourselves from that...”
The darkness grows so heavy that you can hardly see. Alucard’s voice is the only thing that can cut it.
“...You should’ve let them rip you apart.”
“Oh-ho…now I know she must taste divine, for you to act this way,” your trapper calls, before he foolishly moves the knife from your throat and uses it to cut at your dress in a quick move. Your dress’s front opens and your sleeve is harshly moved aside, sharp teeth sinking into your shoulder. Before the teeth even puncture, you hear something sharp ring through the air.
It all happens so fast, you can hardly catch it. 
A long sword erupts at your side, running through your assailant’s head and missing yours by inches. The vampire pulls off of you to shout, dropping his knife, and you lunge forward and away. You hear his screams warble and croak off behind you. 
Another vampire leaps to grabs you up by the shoulders, yanking you off the wagon entirely. You feel his hands get ripped away from you as you hit the forest floor harshly. You’re quick to stand, swaying in confusion and adrenaline before trying to flee. Alucard and another assailant visualize before you, weapons swinging midair before they vanish once more. It’s almost as if you imagined it…but you can still hear the battle echoing around you.
'Fast,' you understand, turning back and ducking under the wagon.
Too fast for a human to run away from, likely. You don’t want to get in Alucard’s way while he disposes of these ambushers.
You hear clangs and hisses, shouts and bodies hitting the forest floor. Soon enough, it is quiet. You see Alucard’s boots materialize in front of the wagon.
‘He’s here,’ you think.
You crawl from under the wagon and before you can even move to stand, Alucard’s hands pull you up and draw you in. You clutch the front of his blouse tightly, squeezing into him and the cradle of his arms.
That was scary. You don’t want to go through that again. Now that Alucard’s here, it’s alright. 
You peek past his hold and spy a leg on the ground. Just one, nameless leg.
‘Right then. He took care of things.’
He pulls you back, his grip firm. His eyes rove over you as his hair flies astray, made a mess from the fight.
“Are you hurt?”
You look up to him to speak, and find yourself voiceless.
The ride back to the castle is a blur for you. The bodies of the vampires are left long behind and Alucard is sure to let the wagon roll over them on the disembarkment.
You sit in front of him instead of in the wagon, his arms tight around you.
Once at the castle, he makes quick work of unholstering the horse and stabling it away. He unloads the wagon. Then he finds you, still standing amongst everything, waiting for him and lost in your thoughts.
You’re guided through the castle in silence, the arrival to your personal bathroom harkened by the loud steps on the floor.
Alucard runs the tub’s faucet, steaming water jetting out. You sit aside, looking straight ahead and pawing at your neck, feeling the puncture marks and frowning.
Alucard looks at you then, stepping over to lift your hair aside, gazing at your bruised neck.
“Will I turn…?” you rasp.
“No,” he murmurs. “Their intent was to feed. Not to change.”
You feel the tears then, and sniffle a bit before looking down at the floor. Alucard lowers his hand before brushing a few of the tears away. His thumb, his touch, is not cold like theirs you realize. 
It is anything but.
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The trips come to an end, abruptly.
After the attack, you find that Alucard is unwilling to return to town anytime soon.
You’re annoyed, but you understand why. He’s borne of an immortal creature, somewhat like a demigod on Earth. Trouble like what you faced on the road before is not hindrance to him. 
It’s you.
You’ve picked up your skills, but you still feel shaken after those vampires got so close to you…literally close enough to taste. It scared you then and it rattles you now.
He buffs up the insulation for the stable and prepares bedding and blankets for the animals. He takes cuttings from the garden to inventory in dry storage, there for future use while the Earth’s soil freezes over for the season.
Not long after, the snow begins to fall and frost begins to set. 
It is terribly beautiful from the castle. You can see the forest spread out far and wide, the treetops painted white and the snow falling easily. The stone of the castle keeps you warm from the elements, able to enjoy the beauty from a perch you weren’t always able to use.
You can almost remember the feel of trudging through thick snow like that, nothing but boots and cloth. Like a true adventurer. 
You feel a bit nostalgic.
‘What am I missing…?’ you wonder.
One day, he catches you staring out the castle windows at the snowy grounds below.
“Don’t fret,” he assures, interpreting your expression to be woe. “Spring will return soon enough. It may be safer to travel, then.”
When you don’t respond right away, he comes nearer and looks out the window with you.
“You’ve made your way through the library, I would assume. Nothing left to peer over?”
You think for a moment, your thoughts taking a while to gather as you take in the snow.
“Are you reading something at the moment, Alucard?”
“I am.”
‘I am lonely,’ you realize.
Yet, your host is right here. Perhaps he could help solve this dilemma?
“Can I read with you?” you ask, your voice softer than intended.
Alucard pauses a moment, clearly surprised. “With me...?”
“Yes,” you say. “With you.”
“I…” he looks at you for a long moment before nodding slightly. “Where would you prefer—”
“The parlor,” you decide. “In front of the fireplace.”
You head to the parlor together, quiet through the halls. Soon enough, you enter one of the many throughout the castle. You often wonder why this one is favored for Alucard, though you’ve never drawn it upon yourself to ask why.
You find you quite like it yourself. The colors are warm, the books rise high against their glassed cases, the fireplace is grand and warm, and the rugs and throws are divine. The settee is of a more soft material than the other leathered furniture in the castle.
It is softer, here. 
You sit easily in front of the fireplace, on the fur rug before it. It is clean and cozy for a floor, a far cry from the floors you’ve both sat and slept on in the past during your travels when an inn was out of the question. The fire crackles loudly as you settle, thinking back on the days before you were housed, your vagabond adventures.
You sigh contentedly and watch the fire, your dress swaddling around you as you settle. You don’t even notice your host until he is beside you, holding out your current book.
‘So he still tracks me,’ you think amusedly. “Surely my reading habits cannot interest you this much?” you jest.
Alucard ignores your teasing before taking his own and seating himself in the chair next to the rug. It faces the fire, the glow warming you both.
You watch as he takes off his jacket and vest, hanging them aside and relaxing in one of the simpler white blouses he sometimes dons. He palms open his book and begins taking in the story before him.
You note how rigid he is. 
‘Is he nervous?’ you wonder suddenly. As far-reaching as it is for someone like him, you feel as though he is. Maybe all this time, he wasn’t disgusted, but instead unsure of what to do with himself.
‘Hopeless man.’
“Relax,” you insist, tugging at his nearest leg beside you. He pauses in the chair at your touch, but you do not relent. You smooth a comforting hand down his calf casually before pulling away easily. “There’s no reason to trouble yourself with whatever is rattling around in that head of yours. Let the fire warm you. Relax.” 
You relax on the rug, one hand on the floor and the other flipping through your book as you read.
“Are you quite comfortable?” he asks suddenly.
You look up, watching Alucard watch you. You nod, smiling before looking back to your book.
It is a warmer feeling now than it was by the window, and though the fire helped, it was not the cause.
You find yourself toeing your shoes off and curling into the carpet, watching him watch you.
'Enough of this.'
You go over to him and his chair before seating yourself on his lap and curling up on him in the chair, book in hand. You feel his body turn like stone underneath you, but you choose to relax further, opening the book as you lay your head on his chest, curls tumbling down his front.
It is quiet for a long time, and you sigh comfortably before sinking back into your story and relaxing on your host. He unfolds inch by inch before finally unclenching himself all the way through, loose and easy.
He does not ask that you stop. He does not say a word. You hardly think he's breathing at this point.
You smile. 'Now was that so hard...?'
Alucard's hand suddenly reaches over to pluck the book out of your grasp before putting it aside; he then touches the underside of your jaw.
"What are you doing?" he murmurs at you. It's not a question, not really.
"Whatever I want," you reply easily, meeting his gaze. "I know that's probably fascinating for someone as straight-edge as y—"
His lips are against yours before you can even finish the sentence. His hands tangle in your hair, fingers unable to run through and clenching at your scalp instead, directing you. He leans you back as he leans forward, eager to seemingly sink into the very being of you.
He's never been this forceful with you before. It has never felt so good.
Your eyes draw closed against it, a whimper escaping you before you kiss back eagerly. You don't know who started with tongue but you're both pursuing it now, chasing one another down as the kiss continues into something more heating.
'He doesn't taste like blood,' you think. 'He tastes like wine.'
You hear the fireplace crackling at your side, the fever of the flames against your skin, the rustling noise of your dress against his clothes, and more than anything...you feel the hot, iron handprint of his touch at your waist, at your neck, at your shoulders, on and on the touching continues.
He pulls back, rasping words escaping him.
"You don't know what you're asking for," he begins, stroking at your waist as he eyes your mouth, fighting himself not to kiss you again. The words are bitten out, barely restrained.
"I'm not asking anything," you say, repositioning yourself in the chair to straddle him. "But if you show me...? Then maybe I'll ask nicely. Just for you."
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AN: Do not under any circumstances copy, repost, or edit any of my work. If you see someone do so, please let me know.
☾ previous. ☾ next. 
☾ check my blog for more imagines
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♧↝𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 ♤↝𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍 ♡↝𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 ♢↝𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗄
{𝖨𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝗀𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇}
—𝖺𝗅𝗎𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖽
—𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗏𝗈𝗋
—𝗌𝗒𝗉𝗁𝖺
—𝗁𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗈𝗋
—𝖽𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗎𝗅𝖺
—𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗋𝖾
—𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗀𝖺
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lxstfuleclipse · 2 years
Text
【FANDOMS】
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DEVIL MAY CRY ( 1-5 + REBOOT & ANIME )
Dante, Vergil, V, Nero, and Credo.
Nico, Trish, Lady, and Kyrie.
Reboot! Dante, Reboot! Vergil, and Kat.
ARCANE
Vi, Jinx, Sevika, Finn, Ekko, Vander, Silco, and Viktor.
Jayce, Caitlyn, Mel, Ambessa, Local Cuisine/Pretty Boy, Marcus, Grayson.
BAYONETTA
Bayonetta ( Cereza ), Jeanne, Rosa.
Luka Redgrave, Balder, Rodin.
BLOOD OF ZEUS
Heron, Seraphim, Alexia, Kofi, Evios, and Electra
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DAREDEVIL
Matt, Karen, Foggy, Wesley, Frank, and Elektra.
DEVILMAN CRYBABY
Akira, Miki, Miki (o), and Ryo.
DEVILS’ LINE
Anzai, Ishimaru, Hans Lee, Sawazaki, Juliana.
DETROIT BECOME HUMAN
Markus, Connor, Kara, Gavin, Hank, North, Simon.
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LIFE IS STRANGE ( 1-3 + TELL ME WHY )
Max, Chloe, Rachel, Nathan, Kate, Warren, and Victoria.
Sean, Cassidy, Finn, and Esteban.
Alex, Steph, and Ryan.
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THE WOLF AMONG US
TREASURE PLANET
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VOLTRON
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LEGEND OF KORRA
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Iroh.
STRANGER THINGS
Eddie, Steve, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle.
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chrollohearttags · 6 months
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nightgowns vs. lingerie
how they like their pretty little gifts packaged.
content + themes: riding, backshots, mirror sex, missionary, finger sucking, spanking/slapping, clothes ripping, some other thangs.
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nightgowns
he personally has no time to waste on untying harnesses and bows..don’t get him wrong, you look good in your little lace teddies and Fenty sets. Hair styled and makeup done to the tee. But it’s not needed..he’ll just end up smearing it before the night’s end. So it’s only natural he prefers you in that $10 dollar ensemble from a Walmart rack with your silk bonnet on. No panties underneath and your big tits and ass swaying freely….makes for much easier access when it’s late night and he’s in a mood. One minute, you’re standing at the bathroom mirror brushing your teeth, the next you’re on your knees, sucking his dick. Letting him make an absolute mess of your freshly washed face. From there, he’s bending you over with a fistful of that nightgown curled in between his fingers. He’s pounding you from the back, leaving heavy handed slaps on your ass and forcing you to look at how pretty you look taking him. Even in your simplest form. “Ah-haaa…fuck me..” moaning through the three fingers hooked into the side of your cheek. That recoil and creamy pussy is driving him insane and he’s so glad he didn’t have to rip off any pesky underwear to get it. It’s even easier to hoist it over your head and render you completely nude before carrying to the bedroom to continue his fun. From laying on your side, lifting your leg and hitting it the way he wants. You two end up having the nastiest sex that night because he can’t control himself! Overstimulating you over and over until you’re a squirting mess all over his sheets. “Told you not to wear this thing around me, baby..you look so fucking sexy..” And It always hits different after he’s gotten some weed or alcohol in his system or it’s been a long day. Yeah, you may have been embarrassed at first wearing it around him but he loves that damn thing and loves you even more!
eren, ony, connie, reiner, choso, nanami, sukuna, ace, zoro, draken, mikey, law, rengoku, toji, usopp, hanegezuka, tengen, avdol, aran, bokuto, aomine, kagami + anyone else you’d like
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lingerie
he prefers taking his time to disrobe you. There’s something so elegant to him about seeing your pretty body wrapped in some sultry two piece he brought as a gift…corsets, bras, fishnets, heels..the works. He’s a man of couth and class so he loves his women all the same. Watching you strut into the bedroom in those tall shoes. You start to do a little striptease for him but he wants to enjoy this for himself. Tracing his fingertips up and down the curvature of your body..rubbing your nipples through the material of your leather and lace until he peels them off. “Mmmm..so pretty, baby. Looks so good on you.” His lips are tracing delicately down your skin and one by one, he unravels the layers. Licking and nipping at your flesh in the same breath. He knows the anticipation is killing you. That much is apparent by the faint scent of your heat hitting his nostrils and the blatant wetness drummed up from his fingertips. “Sorry, my love. Just let me take my time.” Oh, he’s having a blast turning you into a dribbling mess; once he’s got you to the point of brimming tension and near release, he finally rips them away and gets down to business. Lying you on the mattress, spreading your legs wide open and devouring your pussy until you’re trembling..trickling down his chin. Only after removing your thong with his teeth. Holding your hands and allowing those heels to scathe his back before they coil around his neck. Trust, all of his foreplay is coming to good use because by the time he’s inside of you, you’re gripping him like you never want him to leave it. “You look so beautiful…just like this.” Feeding you deep, passionate strokes. Telling you how gorgeous you are and giving you tons of praise . He’s going equally as slow as he was in the entire arousal process..a gentle clutch around your throat and you suckling on his fingers, it’s a prefect sight. Especially with that multicolored material shifted down to your tummy, serving as the ideal harness. Reigning you on his cock when he speeds up. He’s getting so close he can barely even keep pace; drumming up splatters of squirt from within you. He’s damn near ripped that lingerie from your frame and although he planned for this to be an intimate, passion filled evening of love making, he can’t but help but to get a little salacious after seeing you all dolled up, just for him.
gojo, geto, jean, erwin, levi, shinichiro, mitsuya, hisoka, chrollo, jotaro, sanji, giyuu, shanks, mihawk, aokiji, alucard + anyone else you’d like to add.
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krewekreep · 7 months
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When he grabs your neck while drilling in you from behind. Curving you into a messy kiss. For a moment he releases his tight grip on your hips and softens his thrust the slightest bit. He deepens the kiss wrestling your tongue with his as he moves his hands to massage your breasts. You were overstimulated, no longer able to kiss him back you open your mouth for him and he growls moving one hand to choke you as the other fixates on your nipples. He’s giving his all to you and you receive it gratefully. It’s not usual for him to treat you with so much attention, so much neediness. You watched him with Fuck drunk eyes as his were closed intensely, his brow furrowed so deeply it looked as if he were scowling. His mouth rabid and unfocused against yours while plunging in you from behind. The slightest glimpse of a moan escapes him before reeling himself back in. To not lose to you in a battle only he had in his mind, he pulled you away by the hair pushing you into the mattress. He was never incredibly gentle with you but you felt as if this time he had to remind himself to remain dominant. Since you’d been under his care (kinda held hostage) he eased you into the idea of him ravishing you with sexual flirtations and promised that succumbing to him wouldn’t be all that bad. He enjoyed toying with you gradually increasing physical intimacy until you were a crumbling mess fighting against the pleasure escaping your throat as his fingers explored your warm hole. He took extra pleasure in making you fall for him and would never admit his amusement was laced in a desire to genuinely keep you.
As he continued to thrust into you he raised one leg up firmly planting it on the bed creating a deep impression that showed all he had to hold back when dealing with you. He knew his world crushing strength and unlike what anyone would think, took consideration of its usage. Yet, there were times like now as he’s almost struggling to pull out given the hot squeeze of your walls on his dick. He knew he was nearing his edge, having made you cum 3 times already. This last go round was for him. Your face and body blush, shivering as you hear him grunting ever so quietly. It turned you on to no end and began, with what little you had to give, throwing your ass back to meet his thrusts in a loud slick clapping. His moans grew louder as he quickly apprehended your arms holding them behind your back. This image of submission almost made him lose it. His thrust became punishing and you gave up just allowing him to slide you mercilessly up and down his dick. He forgot himself completely. “Ah- you’re so obedient Y/N.” You moan in wanting more praise. Knowing that you’ve grown fond of that he continues, “Mmm my little captured one.” His pace almost brutal as your eyes are falling to the back of your head and drool has slipped out of your mouth onto the bed and your torso.
You can feel how he spreads you with every hit to your core. His pace was becoming sloppier and you knew he was about to cum and fill you as much as he could. He grabs at your hair again pulling back up into a kiss. Your belly tightens and in an instance you push yourself flush on his dick cumming so hard your entire body shakes. His pace has stopped and still holding you by the hair he chuckles and without a word shoots his load into you. He watched you with a certain amusement as he feels his own fluid coating your walls and him. He pumps into you about four times. You were his official cum bucket and he wouldn’t admit how much he loved watching it leak out of you. He kisses you again, more than ever before especially during sex. But he’s still himself as he pulls out with no regard, a loud suction-esque sound that sends a shiver of pain through you. You were spent of all energy barely able to keep your eyes open hanging helplessly onto him. He brushed a finger over your forehead lightly, again amused at how easy for him it is to forget humans are fragile and weak. Not when you take him like a demon yourself. While he has the mind to fill you up some more he decided wearing you out too bad would mean a longer recovery time later. Although called many things in that respect he couldn’t be that cruel, not to you. It is only ever worth while when you practically are begging on hands and knees for him to fuck you. But your tear stricken, snot nosed, drooled covered face, the red marks on you of him forgetting himself too many times, and the sleep (by the deep rise and cave of your chest) meant it was much needed. Much deserved. He relaxed into a position where you were cradled in his lap and watched you thinking over all the presents and gifts he would collect for you. Or whether you’d need a slave assistant. Or the heart of your enemies. And you relaxed into his embrace easily unaware of your capter’s growing obsession and dire need to keep you all to himself.
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Who: Sukuna, Madara, Dracula, Alucard (Hellsing), Sephiroth, Aizen, Kenpachi + any other mean fucks
Requests Open
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pinkmirth · 5 months
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⸻ 𝑃ℛℰ𝒮ℰℛ𝒱ℰ!
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𝒮𝒴𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮ℐ𝒮 ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ the belmont family has endured for centuries, and it’s now up to richter to keep it going strong. there’s only one way to ensure the expansion of his bloodline, and it’s simple; knocking you up.
𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒯𝒜ℐ𝒩𝒮 ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ ( 6k+ words of . . . ) richter belmont x fem!reader, canon-divergent, set in the 18th century (1700s), nsfw/smut, porn with very little plot, established relationship, size difference, nipple play, handjob, panty-ripping, p-in-v, heavy breeding kink, many mentions of pregnancy, missionary, tummy bulge, lotus position, creampies, richie’s a bit cocky (when is he not!), use of pet names (e.g. darling, love, good girl, rich, richie . . .), richter calls reader a ‘ cockslut ’ once, explicit language, lowercase intended, black coded, minors shoo!
𝑀𝒴 𝐿𝒪𝒱ℰ-𝒩𝒪𝒯ℰ! ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ after binging castlevania (nocturne), i instantly fell for that gorgeous man richter & his baby blue eyes ><  he’s got a sharp mouth, a pretty face, and nice biceps– of course i’m in love with him! i just had to whip up somethin’ for my favorite belmont (dunno why, but i heavily believe their clan is crazy about breeding hmm) this was supposed to be an itty bitty drabble, but it ended up much longer than i thought it’d be . . . and might i warn you that this is mostly just sappy, nasty filth. now, please enjoy this smutty piece of work for richie! ❤︎
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richter has made the renard household your favorite place on earth. more specifically, you’re fond of his homey bedroom. it’s got this olde charm to it, and a wide glass window with french-pinewood framing; one that offers a pleasant view of the grassy fields and neighboring stream that surround the cottage. 
over anything else, his bed is surely the best part of it all. there’s a fluffy duvet in that dusty-blue color he likes, one so large that it covers his long legs even when they tangle between yours. the quilted mattress has just the right amount of space for two lovers, and is comfy enough to keep you warm throughout the night, considering the chance you might stay over. 
though, there is a downside, as nothing can be perfect— it creaks far too much when he fucks you. 
it’s not often that the both of you can make good use of that bed of his, especially when the noise makes things terribly obvious. you wouldn’t dare attempt anything improper in richter’s room with his adoptive family just a brief set of steps away. 
there's a time for everything, but not that he cares. you try paying no mind to richter’s lingering touches along your waist, and how he mischievously dives underneath your bottoms to grab at the fat of your ass with a wicked grin; all as his aunt tera boils porridge and beans by the stovetop downstairs. you’re sure he finds joy in the risk, or more in provoking you. 
it’s only when the house is empty, apart from you and richter and nothing else, that you can have your fun. like now, for instance. it’s out of pure luck that tera decided to pay a visit to the farmer’s market, and for maria to tag along with her mother as well. they mentioned something about wanting to buy the best of what the early-autumn harvest had to offer, with the meats being juiciest and the produce fresher than it’s been all year. 
you believe that’s why richter’s got so much stamina— the plenty of food he’s been scarfing down lately. or, possibly, it could just be him . . . nothing but him, and his unexplainable belmont genes that make him fucking superhuman. he swears he’s normal, but the way he picks you up with such ease as soon as his family steps out the door can only be deemed as unnatural. 
he's quick to sweep you off your feet, in the most abrupt way he can, of course. richter grins over the way you squeal as he whisks you past the kitchen, ‘round the table, and down the corridor. his hands work at keeping you upright, palms firmly planted under your thighs. he carries your weight like that of a feather and doesn't break a sweat. but considering where he’s headed, straight to his bedroom, that’ll soon change. 
“don’t go getting all surprised on me,” richter voices a lighthearted whisper. he kisses the part of your neck that he can manage to reach from above the collar of your blouse, “you know what we do once we have the place to ourselves.” 
“you snatched me off the ground without notice, i’ve all the right to be surprised— ohmygod, richter!” you sputter out a laugh, with his mouth on your flesh being so ticklish. you can feel his lips curving upwards, taking the shape of a smile. your arms fling around the back of his neck like second nature, fingers carding through his fluffy brunette hair. with zero patience, as always, richter kicks the door in with the shallow heel of his leather thigh-boot, slips into the room with you still in his arms, and shuts it closed by pressing you up against it. 
he was right about one thing— once tera and maria leave, this is exactly how it goes. clothes are torn off with haste (mostly on richter’s end, as you could imagine), heated kisses are exchanged, and he spits the nastiest words with that sharp mouth of his in order  to get you all worked up. the night sky and moonshine from the window gives his room this subtle tone of blue, but he makes you feel red-hot. 
richter keeps you right where he wants you; held up by his unfiltered strength, with your back to the door. one moment, he’s drawing closer to you, raking over every detail of your face with nothing but admiration swirling in his eyes. by the next, his lips are moving languidly against yours, slightly unruly yet undeniably passionate. you wouldn’t dare admit how much of a damn good kisser he is. the man’s ego would fucking skyrocket.
though, you really don’t have to tell him anything. the way you reciprocate his affection says it all. he breaks away for a sparing moment, but not before bringing his tongue across your bottom lip in one playful swipe. it’s light, teasing, and completely of his nature.
“i can see it in your eyes, y’know.” richter chuckles at how you lean forward to chase after the warmth of his lips again. he brings you to your feet so he can slip off his fingerless gloves and undo any harnesses. he then crouches a bit to unzip his boots. 
“see what?” you airily huff, haphazardly undoing button by button on your blouse until it’s completely open. similarly, he begins to make quick work of his top. you enjoy the flexure of his biceps as he pulls them out from the sleeves of his cerulean blue blazer-vest that he drops once free of, allowing it to scatter to the ground. you catch onto its emblem; the belmont crest, neatly embroidered upon the breast-pocket. 
“how much you want this,” richter peers down at you, eyes gleaming the prettiest tint of blue. “it’s cute, how obvious you are.” his upper half is bare, and the smooth canvas of his chest is all can focus on while he closes in on you. you’re trapped between the sturdy door and his heated body, and you wouldn’t rather be anywhere else. 
“you’re practically salivating over the thought of getting fucked, yeah? bet you wouldn’t mind if i took you right here.” he grins as he says it, staring unashamedly at how cleavage pools from your brassiere. richter creeps a finger underneath the strap, tugs it down and does the same with the other, dipping his head low to pepper your bare shoulder with feather-light pecks. before long, the bra’s at your feet. 
“hm, but you’re no different,” you manage out, reveling in the warm lashing of his tongue against your nipple. it buds up the more he suckles at it.
“really, now?” he eventually parts from your breasts and rises back up to his full imposing height, carrying that faint smirk he forever wears. he looks so adorable this way— cheeks pink, lips spit-streaked. richter takes hold of your bottoms from either side of you, and swiftly brings them down with what you could only call pure impatience. 
“yes, really. you’re just as desperate,” you counter him, reaching low to prove it. your palm grazes his bulge, and you give a few thorough squeezes; the kind that makes his mouth drop open. 
“look at you, almost bursting out of your pants,” you quietly giggle, gazing up at him through the wisps of your lashes. richter wonders how you make such light fun while using your touch to undo him all at once. his breathing quickens, and it gets just a little heavier with your every attempt to caress his throbbing cock through his trousers. “seems like you need it more than i do, doesn’t it?” 
“oh, fuck me . . .” richter whines, settling his head into the slope of your shoulder. your touch leaves him, just for a moment, to rid him of those restrictive pants. his cock springs free from its confines and bobs under its own weight. he’s got more length than girth; a good six or seven in size, with two thick veins running along the underside of him. the faint-pink tip prods at your thigh, staining your skin with precum. 
he bucks against you hungrily, fingertips digging into the seams of your panties. you think you can hear them splintering apart. in the heat of things, he always winds up tearing your good underwear. 
richter could ease into this moment and let your hand work him senseless, but there comes a time where he decides to end the charade. there’s also no knowing when his aunt and sister will return. he wants to make the most out of the unpromised time you have. 
and so, he cuts your fun short with a mere rasp, “i’m through messing around with you. get on the fucking bed.” 
no malice is found in his words; it’s just the height of his lust. you’d do as told, but richter’s already taking action into his own hands. with two, three— no, four steps, he’s standing at the bedside and splaying you across it. he snags off the remaining of your torn panties, left to suggestively decorate his floor. now, in all your naked glory, you’re bare and ready for him. 
richter crawls over to you and kneels from above where you lay, situated closely between your legs. your thighs cushion either side of his lean hips. he leans down occasionally whenever you plead for a kiss, or wish to thread your fingers through his brown tousled hair. it now looks just a bit wilder than usual. 
“c’mon— open, darling.” he hints at your legs, smoothing his warm palms down from your calves to your thighs. ever the compliant girlfriend, you part them nice and wide for his viewing pleasure. your cunt’s glossy and wet, clenching around nothing but the intangible air around. 
‘oh, how pretty,’ he breathlessly murmurs, dragging two fingers across the expanse of your body. down, down, down, until they’re tracing along your slit. your dripping hole puckers against the pads of his index and middle, and you whimper when he threatens to push two inside. 
“this wet, yet i’ve hardly done a thing,” his voice is ever boastful, “are you sure i’m the desperate one?” both fingers are suddenly replaced with his stiff erection, and he uses the precum-stained tip to catch onto your clit, resting warm and heavy against it. to that, you release a little ‘mm,’ and he taps against your puffy bud with the head of his cock— stopping once your hips start bucking for more. 
“god, you just love to torment me . . . ” you huff out, vexation getting the best of you. “torment you? oh, never.” richter taunts, slotting himself between your puffy folds. he steers the way he glides against you by keeping a thumb at the base. “i just like to watch you squirm, is all.” 
you know how to pry what you want out of him; a little bit of begging here, a small ounce of praise there. you lift your hips to grind against the underside of him, emitting soft moans whenever he rubs against your swollen clit just right, “richter, please. i really need your cock . . .”  
“oh, baby,” he bites at his lower lip, giving in just as you expected of him. “i love it when you ask nicely.” in one fluid motion, he fits himself past the fleshy ring of your entrance and slips right inside. noise falls from you both; you’re gasping at the steady push, doing your best to accommodate every given inch, and richter’s letting small groans escape him, fingers digging into the tender flesh of your hips. 
“always so fucking . . . tight,” he emits a shuddered breath, dropping his head to watch himself bottom out deep enough for his balls to nestle snugly against your ass-cheeks. you’re well connected now, to the point where his own pelvis has become sticky with your arousal. chestnut fringes drop into his view, and he sweeps his hair back with one hand threading through it. 
“you’re taking it all so well this time,” he lifts his gaze to meet yours, a subtle grin playing on his lips. “such a good girl for me.” the connection between you two pulsates. he starts to build a delicious rhythm— drawing out for just a second, and pushing back in by the next. he watches you melt beneath him, your eyes sealed shut and mouth agape. a tangly string of moans tumble from your plush lips. richter’s no composer by any means, but the sounds he pulled from you is nothing short of beautiful music. 
he’s without resignation tonight, and you notice his intensity when handling you. those naughty hands of his cup and squeeze and rub, his thrusts are fast, and you're sure that the resounding ‘smack!’ of skin-upon-skin can be heard from outside the window with how loud it’s become.  
richter’s got your wrists bound above your head using the grip of only one firm hand, while he uses the other to keep your leg perched over his broad shoulder. his cock pushes deeper inside whenever he rolls his hips into your own, and your toes curl against the sheets with every stroke. when ramming in, his breath goes shaky at the sight of your body lurching, and pulling out makes his eyes roll back with how hard you’re clamping down on him, practically begging him to stay. 
you’re soon to unravel, and you can tell he is too. his thighs begin to tremble, and his pace is less timely. nearing ecstasy, you already know what richter’s bound to ask you: 
“where do you want me?” 
without fail, he poses the same question by the near end of every session. and each time, you opt for the safe route, even though you secretly wish for more. your answer mostly varies on whatever position he’s got you manhandled in. bashfully, you’ll instruct him to cum over your ass if he has you bent over, or your tits if he’s been ogling them the whole night. sometimes, you’ll even let him decorate your pretty face with his seed— now that drives him mad, so much so that you always go another round or two afterwards. 
but your true desire is, by far, much filthier than the rest. you’re nowhere near daring enough to plainly admit that you want his cum inside of you. as in, womb-filling placement. pregnancy-inducing, even. 
though, something’s come over you tonight. you think richter’s finally ‘fucked you stupid’ the way he always cockily threatens to. or, maybe having him settled within you just feels too good to give up so soon. you don’t want him pulling out this time, you determine. what you need is for him to stay right where he is, to keep you stuffed whole with his warm love. all you want is for him to do it— 
“inside,” is your breathless cry; a risky plea of the very thing he spends lone nights getting himself off to the thought of. richter isn't sure he heard you right— no, it must be a cruel figment of his perverse imagination. a bead of sweat's caught along his raised brow, those blue eyes of his carry a hooded glow, and his face, bearing a cutely furrowed look, grows pinker than before. 
“what?” 
“oh, god,” you whine, face gone hot. “richter, i . . .” the words melt off your tongue and fizzle into nothing. 
“you . . ?” he plays around your hesitance, drawing out the word with some light goading. you sigh rather than responding, and it’s a dramatic one, because does he really have to make you repeat yourself? richter gazes down at you expectantly as he slows his movements, finding purchase on your waist to come to an unsteady pause. his fingers drum along your sides, awaiting more clarity. 
your voice is small when you manage to confess, “ . . . i want you to cum inside of me.”
you think you can see the very moment that he fucking breaks. it’s like his resolve’s a porcelain vase, oh so delicate, and you’ve just pushed it to the floor and cracked it into a million tiny pieces. he releases this low groan, one that makes your pussy flutter at the sound of it. you can feel how rapidly his cock throbs from within you. you’re sure he’s about to paint them white. 
“shit . . . you don’t mean that.” 
“i do, rich. i want this.” 
you blink up at him, pleading with glassy eyes and the very pout that makes his heart throb. god, he wants to kiss you so messily right now. and that he does— closing in to slot his lips against yours, working his tongue down your mouth, and separating with a distinct pop! you moan against richter’s lips as his clutch on your waist intensifies. 
“you’ve gone ahead and finally drove me fucking crazy,” he thickly swallows, “you don’t know what you’ve just done to me, do you?” richter takes hold on both sides of your face, painless but firm. you mumble aloud what sounds like his name. he can’t be sure, as you’re muffled from the way his grasp is making your cheeks puff out. 
“oh, darling, you don’t.” richter seethes, knowing how you like it when he gets a little mean, “because if you did, you’d know that spewing that kind of shit will make me fuck you like a senseless animal,” his toned body is hunched over yours, eliminating any space there once was between you, “that i’d fill up this greedy little cunt until you’re overflowing with my cum,” his octave drops, tone dangerous, “that i wouldn’t be able to stop until we’ve both passed out on this goddamn bed.” 
“mmph, rich . . .” you weakly attempt, whining through your lips that he keeps pursed between his thumb and index that press into the fat of your cheeks. 
“what was that, love? you wanna be stuffed with my cum?” his tone is a mocking one, but you dumbly nod anyway. he mirrors the rocking motion of your head, amused with your desperation, “fuck yeah, you do. can feel you getting wetter at the thought of it.” 
you haven’t got it in you to feed into that typical banter with your boyfriend. you only want him to do just as he said and ‘fill you up.’ you're pawing at his bicep with one hand, and the other one clasps over the wrist of the hand he’s using to squish at your face. ‘want it,’ you start, fingers skimming across his arm, ‘so badly, rich!’ 
“fine, then. you’re such a needy thing,” he gives in, figuring you’ve endured just about enough of his teasing. richter holds himself by the base, and pulls back to trace your gaping hole with his cockhead. 
“you asked for this,” he pants out, “to be fucking bred.” 
just as before, his entrance is a smooth one; even if your grip on him is so taut that he can barely manage to move. you’re moaning again, aimlessly circling your hips in an attempt to match his movement. 
patterns repeat themselves— like richter’s desperation that always manifests itself through harsh rutting. his mind goes blank every time he’s encompassed by your sweet, warm pussy. he aches for it, for you, as though he wasn’t just indulging. he was this close to release just minutes ago. the sensitivity is still there, you notice from how his tip pulses from within you. he’s been holding out on himself, trying to make this count. 
richter dedicates the next several minutes to flipping and folding you into at least two different positions, bodies merging with a zealous haste. as always, the bed creaks and whines with every pivoted motion made upon it. nobody else is here to complain about it, so the noise is ignored rather than worried over. after all, there’s something gratifying about the sex being hard and thorough. 
there’s more fervor behind his loving this time, and it’s because he’s got the end in mind. yes, the finishing is what he anticipates; once he can finally, finally pump you full of all the cum he has to offer. and maybe— no, definitely, he’ll have you knocked up after it’s done.  
the prospect excites him more than it should; giving you a little bright-eyed belmont. richter’s always seen replenishing the sacred bloodline as a responsibility that only he alone holds. the very last one, he is. who else apart from him could return their clan to its original glory? 
a good amount of years ago, as richter can’t bring himself to remember a particular number, his mother would present him with countless tales of their infamous family. how they’d slay monsters of the night with the utmost ease, gifted with holy tools and magic of old passed down throughout the centuries. he wouldn’t like to admit how much it’s gotten to his head; or moreso, how important he sees it to expand the family tree. 
god willing, the pair of you will have babies, lots of babies, and mark the start of a new generation of vampyre slayers. it already helps that he loves to fuck you at any given chance. breeding you had always been lingering at the back of his mind, even back when the pair of you first coupled over ten months back . . . but he never really thought so deeply about it until you confessed your deep desire, and forced him to come to terms with his own. 
“thinkin’ of you pregnant,” he reveals, voice honest and vulnerable, “god, what a beautiful sight. my woman, all round and full with my love . . . ” 
“mm, that sounds— possessive,” you breathe out, body steadily rocking at the pace that richter’s set. you’re cracking your eyes open and sparing him a glance, just to see that he’s already staring back down at you. like you’re his everything, it seems. that twinkle in his eye is reserved for you only, and it makes you throb with want. 
“oh, i’m sure it does.” he doesn’t bring himself to deny it. he wants you marked by him in every possible way. for anyone to take a glance at your rounding belly months from now and just know that he touched you thoroughly and fucked you right. 
“but you should understand just how fortunate you are, baby,” he coos, “do you know how many bitches would kill for this seed you’re getting tonight? hm?” richter drones on, “you even sure you deserve it?” 
he knows full well that you do. if there’s any woman on god’s green earth that he wants to give all his love to, it’s indisputably you. he’s simply rousing you up, making you ‘earn’ it. the man likes to tease, and you can’t help but enjoy being on the receiving end. 
“well . . . you’re planning to give it to me, aren’t you?” even with him wrecking you, body sore and hair disarray, you're still able to check him. “i am,” he sighs, “and you’re gonna feel it all the way in here,” a large palm of his splays across your abdomen. from over your tummy, he feels the outline of his own cock, pressing in and sliding out before ramming it’s way back in again, courtesy of his rolling hips. 
it spurs him on to see that he doubles you in size, so much so that his dick leaves a bulge. richter bets that he’s stretching out your cunt in the nicest way— just look at how you’re taking it with hazy eyes and quivering legs. no wonder you want his cum so badly; because who else throughout all of goddamn machecoul could give you such good orgasms? which other man could possibly fill you up with such valuable seed? 
“i swear, m’gonna give you a baby,” is richter’s shaky promise, moaning throughout, and his cock throbs twice in a row. he’ll make you a carrier of the next generation of belmonts, he swears it. and oh, is he sure you’ll be an amazing mother. the thought makes his head buzz. he vividly pictures you, tender and swollen in the tummy and breasts, waddling around cutely due to carrying his very own child. he could cum just by thinking about it too hard . . . 
and he does.
“oh, god, i’m gonna— oh, fuck!” his balls constrict, his pelvis becomes tightly-strung, and before he knows it, he’s emptying his thick load inside of you. 
“yes, rich . . . give it to me,” you softly purr, allowing him to ease his weight onto you as he shudders from the high and his limbs go weak. from where he has his face smushed against your cushiony chest, he bites at your left breast while cumming some more. it spurts out in hot streams, accompanied by the twitching of his sensitive dick. he lazily humps against you, and a bit of semen seeps past your cunt, trickles down the length of him, and pours out onto the sheets beneath. you knew it’d be satiating to be filled to the brim. 
he feels like he could fall asleep right here atop of you. even with his head’s swimming in a thick cloud of lust, and though the aftermath of his climax lingers, he’s still able to deliver slow rubs to your little bud.
“hope you’re ready for another,” he reaches down between you and swiping his graceful fingers across it, “because we aren’t fucking done yet.”
you hardly get a chance to bask in how nicely he’s loaded your womb, or the delightful tingle he brings when playing with your clit. richter, always a step ahead, uses his small bit of remaining energy to sit upwards with his back to the bedpost, and hauls you onto him so that you’re straddled over him just the way he likes. he gets the best view of your jiggling boobs this way.
“of course you still have it in you,” you lightly laugh. given his endurance, richter’s usually able to maximize his stamina through plenty of rounds. “i also wouldn’t mind being filled a second time . . .” you set your forehead to rest against his, bringing up a hand to swipe hair away from his gorgeous face eyes, “i liked it.”
“and i loved it,” he’s quick to admit, “should’ve been finishing inside you long before now.”
you smile over his comment and wiggle your ass over his semi hard-on, growing stiffer with every sway of your breasts in his face. his hands are busy holding you from either side, so you go out of your way to stroke along his cum-dirtied cock, white dripping alongside it. he groans at your touch as you help him in finding your entrance. your mouth falls open when sinking down on him, and he rushes to lick and suck at your lips. for the third time tonight, he makes himself at home in your inviting cunt. 
and so, it begins again; his ceaseless tempo. your partner's grasp is hot and strong, pulling you off and slamming you back down onto him however he pleases. you cry out for more, and he’s capable of giving it to you, so he does. richter pistons up into you— out, in, out, in, molding you to shape the very curve of his veined cock. blush colored a fiery pink scatters his face from the apples of his cheeks to the tips of his ears. 
“again, richter,” you gasp out, “cum inside me again . . !” oh, just look at that. now he’s built you a rotten little addiction. from here on out, you’ll probably always be left craving the fulfillment gained from him dumping his load into your pussy. personally, he doesn’t mind sating you. if it eases your mind and satisfies your heart, of course. after all, he’s surely developed a new kink of his own after tonight.  
“oh, you’d want that, wouldn’t you, cockslut?” his fingers dip between your bodies to slide against your clit once more, “to let me impregnate you again, and again, and again . . .” he punctuates his sharp words with the lurch of his sturdy hips, knocking up into you until you’re jolting in his lap, breasts bouncing against his solid chest. 
he doesn’t mean to come across in an offish way, or sound so mean. it’s just that when he gets like this, with your warm body so pliant at his fingertips, his mouth just tends to . . . run. more than usual, he supposes. the belmont just says whatever comes to mind, no matter how vulgar. 
richter’s bright blue eyes follow the motion of your tits with every thrust. he slams in, hips pressed to you as close as it can get. he’s burrowed into you so deeply that his curly patch of dark pubes friction against your bundle of nerves. he’s twitching at the underside for every time your velvety walls suck him in further. you’re trying to milk him fucking dry, he believes. 
there’s only so much stimulation that the pair of you can take in one night alone. 
‘goddammit’ he grits out. before long, richter’s fucking you full of another stream of cum. his orgasm, hot and blinding, triggers your own; you’re creaming all over him, wetting his cock with the juices you squirt out. you’re sobbing out his name and shaking in his lap, so he holds you. a secure hand of his comes up and cradles your head to his chest, stroking your hair and calming your spent body, even as the orgasmic waves rush through you. 
a silence comes over his quaint little room, where the ambience was once intense with the steamy air of sex. a chill autumn breeze blows its way through the cracked-open window, cooling your sweat-sheen skin. his dusty-blue sheets are stained with all kinds of suggestive white fluids, and the bed has stopped making all that noise. 
you’re still placed over his thighs in the same straddling stance, one you both feel much too tired to get out of. he tries at maneuvering so he can lie on his back, with you motionlessly laid over him. your breathing is soft and winded, but your heart’s beating fast. he can feel it, with the way your chest is pressed to his own in this position. 
richter eventually slips out, and you whine once he leaves you. he peers down and groans at the spillage of his potent cum, pearly and warm, dripping from your messy little cunt in thick globs. ‘christ,’ he thinks, ‘it’s so fucking much.’  
he presses a kiss to your forehead, and it stirs you from the sleep you were just about to fall into. “what do you say to me, darling?” 
“hmm . . what?” after all those rounds, you’re not here mentally, and he knows it— he’s why. but with the light smirk his lips hold, you’re finally able to get it. he’s waiting for a: 
“t—thank you,” you murmur out, and he tsks.
“oh, c’mon, be specific. thank you for what?” 
he's simply insufferable. oh, but you love the man, so you'll let him have his way, just for tonight.
“thank you for . . giving me your cum, richter . . .”
he hums in what appears to be satisfaction. it sounds like the prettiest set of words when falling from your lips. he’d fuck you again if the both of you weren’t completely spent. 
richter brings a hand to support the back of his head, propping it up a little higher than the pillows can. you snuggle into him, face nuzzling against the firm comfort of his chest, and he throws his arm over your waist, feeling at the plush skin there with a wandering touch. 
his palm slides a bit further down, now planted gently against your stomach. it’ll start to grow in a little while, and get real big and plump with your baby fostering inside. maybe they’ll have your nose and complexion, with his eyes and attitude . . . he lets a grin overtake his lips, feeling more than accomplished. 
“you’re a lucky fucking woman,” richter coos, hand lovingly rubbing over your tummy, “you’re gonna be carryin’ belmont blood now.”
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tags go out to . . . ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ @blushfwul @springmarcheson @missmagicalprincess @kaennih-skitlles @divin3bloodlines! hope y’all enjoyed, mwuah! ❤︎
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©𝑃ℐ𝒩𝒦ℳℐℛ𝒯ℋ! — all rights reserved! do not steal, plagiarize or repost any of my works. please and thank you! ౨ৎ
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yanderemommabean · 2 months
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Yandere's who I think are likely to use blood in food they make you
Characters in Jujutsu Kaisen-
Choso
Suguru Geto
Satoru Gojo
Kenjaku
Sukuna
Megumi
Yuuta
Characters in Obey Me-
Lucifer
Satan
Belphegor
Barbatos
Solomon
Characters in Black Butler-
Sebastian
Undertaker
Snake
Claude
William T. Spears
Characters in Castlevania-
Dracula
Alucard
Carmilla
Hector
Lenore
Characters in BNHA/MHA-
Shigaraki
Dabi (Touya)
Aizawa
All Might
Hawks
(I was bored lol -Mommabean)
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grimmbunniee · 7 months
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The feminine urge to write a reincarnation Au with Alucard, where he sees the love of life like 200 years later. Like originally she was apart of the monster hunter trio in Castlevania. Maybe she was witch but was mortal. Idk but I’m obsessed with magic user. So she’ll probably be witch again. Maybe I’ll add in that she’s been having dreams of her past life with Alucard. Idk just angst for Alucard(my little pookie I’m sorry for doing this too you). Because imagine the life of your life dying only to see her like 200 years later. Maybe Alucard’s slowly starting to forget what she sounds like and he only has miniature painting of her that he keeps with him at all times to remember her by. I’d have to watch Castlevania nocturne tho and I’m kinda busy this weekend. I’d maybe I’ll make her day job like an opera singer because those where big in that era of France.
(Also she’s gonna be black because I’m black also because this is my blog and I said so. )
Kinda tempted to make her insanely good at magic but also an absolute girlfailure.
Me ready to make Alucard’s life even more stressful
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Edit: I’m brainstorming ideas on how to do the readers magic and I figured how her magic works is by speaking spells backwards, yes I’m stealing that idea from DC, but Annette is descended from Gods so I can do this okay 😭. Also the reader is gonna have a familiar. She can do magic with saying things backwards but finds it easier to do so.
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Kissed by Moonlight (Alucard x Witch! Reader) 7
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A/N: I feel like an ass for posting this one, surely I am cockblocking, but this slow-burning is here for a reason! Enjoy regardless! Mentions of anatomy and some language, Y/N gets drunk and nearly blurts all.
Summary: To be loved is to be changed.
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Chapter 7
In the day, Adrian was as glorious as the sun. At night, as beautiful and haunting as the moon and its glow.
In the month you had been in the castle, you had turned the once secluded castle into a living, existing place, for you and Adrian to simply ignore the rest of the world in. It had grown not to resemble a tattered and destroyed ruin, but instead, a place Adrian could call home once again.
Adrian himself had flourished in his skin once more: where you found him to take up hobbies when you were not with him. Before was once a man, lonely beyond an age before the age of twenty, losing his parents and closest allies, now, a man you could look upon with admiration and pride. He had grown out from his enclosed shell, opening his heart to a stranger, trusting you with his life unlike those who betrayed him.
It hurt more to know that this was your final day.
You feared for Adrian’s wellbeing, whether he would grow reclused after you left him, or would he rather thrive with your farewell?
You had grown recluse yourself from the Dhampir, finding closure in the fact that you would never look upon the face of Adrian ever again. Where could you go apart from as far out from Wallachia? Nowhere was safe for a girl like me. You told yourself when you wished you could explain to Adrian—though the words would always freeze on your tongue any time you tried bringing it up.
It seemed that Adrian had almost forgotten about the promise too, and you couldn’t help but feel guilt when he spoke of promises he wanted to do for you.
“I’ll show you one day the town nearby,” he said one night, curled up by the fire as he stared into its flames. “I know you’d like it. We could buy anything you’d like: spices, dresses, jewellery.”
He spoke of a future not just with him alone, but with you co-existing beside him, and it thrilled and destroyed you to know that this promise would crumple like sand.
The day came for you to leave, silently waking with dried tears still stinging your red eyes. You had spent all that night crying before you fell to sleep, dreaming of being with Adrian, laughter shared and memories to be made. You had even kissed him, your heart fluttering as he muttered words softly in your words that gave away he did not want you to go.
'Always and forever.' His words were soft and dying in the air when you faced the morning, and your lips could still feel his against yours, a dying dream never to be lived.
You tip-toed around to not wake Adrian, gathering anything you could and folding neatly the dresses you had been given to him. They were too lovely to be ruined and deserved to be in a place that could keep its beauty.
The only things you carried on you were the same dress you came to the castle in, rags that had been sitting in the corner of the room, waiting for the day you would have to wear them. The air grew heavy with a feeling of forlorn as you walked to find the kitchen, setting yourself by the counter and waiting for the person you dreaded to upset.
It was not long until you heard familiar footsteps drawing closer, familiar honey-blond locks coming into view as the man appeared. It snapped your heart in two to see the softness in his golden eyes as if you were better than the sun itself and you were his star. That all fell apart when his smile dropped, the uncertainty washing over his face when he saw the glumness on your face.
“Has something happened?” He did not waste two seconds stepping closer towards you, giving a small gap between the two but enough that you could be up close to him. In the four weeks, it had taken some time for Adrian to grow used to touch once again, always coiling away from your closeness, before he had taken the time to build trust and reciprocate first. "Y/N?"
He was quick to reach out to you first, extending for your arm as he pulled it towards him. He was warm to the touch, and you dared not want to look upon his concerned gaze without knowing you would blubber into a mess once again.
“You remember the promise, correct?” You lamented, watching for a moment as he took in your words carefully. It was as if everything poured through just from the question, and you could just about read every emotion visible in his eyes; melancholy, regret, grief.
“Where will you go?” His voice was quiet. Don’t go, it read in his eyes.
It didn’t dawn on you, no matter how many times you came to think of it. “Some place where it is warmer, perhaps east. But that means…” your voice cracked momentarily, “Wallachia will not be a home for me.”
“But how do you know?” His calmness cracked, and beneath you could see the grief-stricken man appear, though you did not think he would be holding concern for you of all people.
You didn’t want to answer his question, despite the unknowing questions that boiled, the silence was deafening, and it hammered in your chest like the chiming of a hammer.
“I will have to leave whilst there is still light,” you squeezed Adrian’s hand before it slipped from his, “Thank you for allowing me to use your library, and… to call you a dear friend.”
You didn’t know if that pained you more to call him a friend when your feelings had bloomed for him during your time there. A friend was the only thing you could call him: why would he want anything else with you? He’s immortal, he will have lovers come and go, but none will ever be you.
“Don’t,” he called to you when he stepped out of his reach, not expecting him to call you. Your name was a whisper on his tongue, hanging in the air as if he wished to say something more to you, “I don’t want you to leave.”
“I would be overstaying here, Adrian.” You could feel tears slip from your face, but you braved not to look at him, even when you knew he was staring at you. “You said a month-”
“Please,” there it was. Pain in his voice in the way he pleaded, desperate and gentle that you didn’t think you’d see this side of him, “I don’t think… living within these walls would ever feel the same with you gone.”
He stepped out to you again.
Closer.
His hand gingerly found your chin, raising your head to meet his gaze, delicately wiping the tear collecting at the corner of your right eye. You were both silent, only staring at one another, and never did you think anyone would stare at you the way he did with you.
“You wish for me to stay?” Forever?
Your mother had told you what that feeling would be like, though she had been young and never knew the experience herself. Did Alucard’s parents experience the same when they first met?
That feeling grew within your chest, butterflies you couldn’t stop from feeling: the great emotion that one day would bless you in having. Why was it that the moment you had to leave was when it came?
‘People come and go,’ your mother told you one day when you asked about it, naïve and full of hope. ‘It hurts when it grows for those you care for.’
Yes, you understand now why it came at this moment and all the times before.
It hurt.
Love hurt when it was about to leave for the first and final time.
It was his smile, so gentle and warm, so inviting and bright – full like the sun and the beginning of spring – that you could not decline his offer.
“I would very much like that.”
-
Telling yourself you had gotten used to the castle was an understatement.
The rooms you were more familiar with were the ones you kept to, never straying that much to explore. You knew that there were many rooms even Adrian never went into, telling you that they held too many memories, either good or bad.
You were understanding, knowing how much the castle – his childhood home – could hold a lot of disturbance to what he went through. He told you one day that his childhood bedroom was off limits: it was after all, where he had killed his father. He mentioned it was a place too “dampened with gloom” that you knew something else had happened for him to keep that part of the castle off-limits.
It had only gotten the best of you when you told Adrian you were going to do some cleaning, leaving him as he cooked in the kitchen.
You sprinted with much glee and inquisitiveness: the endless hallways could lead you anywhere!
Roaming the halls, you remembered to stay away from the rooms you were not allowed to go to, including his old and current bedroom. It was quite easy to get lost, taking to the upper floors, where the light grew dimmer, more eerie.
The rooms as you found them didn’t hold much for you to be intrigued until you passed what was another room in another endless hallway, you spotted that this room had its door ajar.
This was certainly a room you had not been told of by Adrian.
Bravely, the room seemed to be more of an intrigue to you than any other room. Slowly peeling the door back, you stepped through.
The room is dimly lit, with a sense of sweet orange that lingers in the air. It’s his scent, sweet, alluring, inviting; just like what surrounds you. There are books of all assortments: astronomy, philosophy, ecology, history – to name a few. Knowledge spanning from decades to thousands of years back, of all cultures and dynasties long gone and remaining. Maps hung around the room, some of the entirety of Europe, the world and one finally above his desk of Wallachia.
It took longer to find literature, where you find poetry, prose, children’s stories and old fables. You’re shocked when you stumble across some romance novels, not expecting that to come from Adrian.
His desk is a display of many things: papers, books, and journals. You dare not look in his journals knowing his work is private, but something catches your gaze. Since when was Adrian into drawing?
You find one first that makes you pick it up, a sketch of his mother, only a fine-line sketch that is only shaded and not with much detail, but you recognise her from the portraits that decorate the castle.
Will you be needing a muse anytime soon? You think to yourself, jokingly. You knew it was rude to snoop, and knowing you had come across Adrian’s study, you knew you had the best chance to look around when he wasn’t there.
But when you find his sketchbook, all nosiness takes over.
The leather-bound book is beautifully decorated, with its pages filled to the brim from use. The beginning of the pages were those you recognised simply by objects that Adrian used for inspiration: a stag beetle shell, many plotted plants and flowers some you recognised from your mother’s herbs. You read the dates that dated back to almost a decade ago, impressed by his skill at such a young age.
The more you draw the pages further into the book, the older the dates get, and his practice grows. His inspirations change from objects to anatomy. You’re impressed by the way Adrian draws the human body so well. Some sketches of hands in different positions and poses, full body sketches of a mixture of men and women, some clothed and others nude.
You could feel your cheeks darken, and though it was surprising to see the natural state of the human body, art was still captivating in showing it, Adrian drew with a way of conveying vulnerability. His mother was a doctor after all.
Other pages were of human faces: more drawings of his mother and father. Another was of a different man and woman: the woman had short hair whilst the man had a scar over his right eye and a shadow of a wispy beard on his face. You now had a reference to Adrian’s friends and allies: Sypha and Trevor.
A Belmont, scholar and sleeping soldier, Adrian told you, all out for different clauses and paths but joined to meet on one path; to kill Dracula.
You had forgotten to make sure you were still alone and not spotted looking through his things when you reached the last few of the pages, recently used. Wait a minute. You had to do a double take, imagining you were seeing double. This isn’t… who I think it is.
Those eyes, were similar to you, not that you could remember where you had seen them last. It dawned on you quickly why they were a distant memory: they looked like your mother's eyes—but that was impossible if Adrian had never met or seen an image of her.
But, as if looking back through a mirror, a glimpse through time, those eyes weren’t just hers, but yours as well.
Oh. Your heart hammered in your chest, and you dared not drop the book to draw attention to where you were. You didn’t close it, despite feeling that this was intruding—it was too late for that now.
He had gotten your likeness in a way you didn’t think he could: as if you had been captured in a moment, ready to come back to life on the page. Another sketch of you, reclined with your nose in a book and laying in a way that could’ve been uncomfortable to anyone else. Another of you tying your hair back, the ribbon dangling in your mouth, eyes in heavy concentration. The final one took you by surprise: a moment where you were snuggled into the armchair, a blanket wrapped protectively around you to keep you warm.
Have I been so blinded this entire time? It seemed like this wasn’t right: did Alucard… fancy you? You scoffed, absolutely not, there was no way—though you the more you spiralled, the more it had you questioning everything.
You had been so preoccupied with what you had discovered, that you failed to suspect the presence behind you, someone standing just on the edge of the doorframe.
An awkward cough brought you back to your senses.
“Forgive me!” You stumbled, throwing the papers behind you to hide them behind your back, in hopes you were quick on your feet. You were clumsy, ineptly whipping back to look at the blond Dhampir standing just a few metres in the doorframe. “I did not hear you come in.”
Adrian was dressed simply in his shirt, trousers and boots as he did if the weather was not too cold. It was only a small subtle detail that his dark trousers were coated and dusted with a light cast of flour, as if he had nothing else to wipe but on them. His hair was also tied up, revealing his slender neck, wisps of blond tresses falling to frame his handsome angular features.
How long had he been waiting there for? You panicked, knowing that he could’ve used his speed to reach you, using his inhuman scent of smell or to pick up your heart rate to find you.
“Yes, well, you did seem rather… occupied.” Adrian teased, though his face was incomprehensible, his movements leisurely as he ambled into the room, inspecting if anything looked out of place.
Was he just as embarrassed as how you were feeling? Regardless if he was or not, he was very good at hiding it from you.
He stopped just to the side of his desk, eyes quickly scanning as he spotted the disarray of papers, his sketchbook ‘neatly’ placed back where it looked to have been before. He did not say anything about it, instead, resuming conversation as if nothing was out of place.
“I was asking if you were free to help me downstairs. I needed assistance in deciding which spices to add to the cakes.” He continued, watching the way you shuffled to block what you were putting back on the desk.
You were not subtle in the slightest but Adrian did not make any remark for you to be snooping, rather, he watched on in visible amusement. The refined look when he raised an eyebrow, the small smirk that made you even more flustered when you were caught.
“Okay, ready.” You gestured for him to walk in front, hanging back as you took a final glance back, wondering when Adrian started drawing you.
-
 It’s his idea when he decides the two of you should share a bottle of wine.
Though you think it’s not good to have the entire bottle, Adrian agrees upon a glass or two, sharing thoughts as the night grows dark with the creatures of the forest outside, and your worries melt for a moment on your tongue.
The wine is sweet, not though you like it, and it's hard to consume something that feels so foreign. Adrian drinks it as if it's water, and you struggle to keep up. You’re a lightweight after all, and though you’re slower, you can feel the haziness that crawls in your vision, and you swear you’re almost seeing double.
Your laughter is warmer, chatter easier, and you notice he’s closer beside you by the table when he first brings the bottle and glasses.
“This is nice,” his voice does not slur as he speaks, and you’re shocked just by how content he is in drinking glass after glass if he could. If perhaps you didn’t say anything, perhaps he would, “It’s been some time since I stopped drinking.”
“When did you stop?” You can feel a headache begin to dull your senses, and you’re feeling bolder.
Adrian seems hesitant when he looks back at you before he answers. “I stopped after a couple of days after your arrival.” He’s nervously swirling the glass in small circles on the table, a distraction. “I’m sure the smell of piss and blood wasn’t helping.”
You chortle, “No, it didn’t, but I don’t suppose I was any different. A girl smelling of chickens.”
“I did wonder why.” He says in a dry tone, but his eyes are sincere, and you find yourself staring periodically down at his lips, the glint of his sharp teeth some distraction from the wine.
“It seems funny when I say it now, but I used to have two, and they had names.”
Adrian seems surprised by this, that of all things to have named were chickens, but he coaxes you with a raised brow, intrigued, to say the least. “Tell me they had normal names.”
“Henrietta and Duchess.”
“Oh, my God,” Adrian laughs quietly, “Next you’ll say you had a pig called Duke and a horse called Lieutenant.”
“Well, the pig was called Truffle.”
“Seems almost cruel,” Adrian laughs at the idea, “I don’t think I was any different. I did have a stuffed wolf called Fluffy.”
“Hey, that’s cute though.”
You laugh at the idea, but you’re carrying a sad smile as you continue to sip slowly at your drink. “I loved those chickens. It was weird, but I treated them like humans rather than animals—livestock. They were much nicer than-” You stop yourself mid-sentence, unsure if you’re ready to continue.
Your stomach coils as if ready to lurch, for you to leap from your chair and leave to your room, but Adrian is calm and patient, running a soothing hand over yours to console you.
“Take your time,” he says with quiet empathy, and it’s enough to pull you back to reality. “I’m here.”
“After my mama’s death, I fled to the nearby town—I was on the streets for some time, hiding behind buildings and sometimes getting shelter from a sweet old lady, before I was old enough to sell myself as a servant to any passing man who needed my service.”
You felt sick to your stomach, and the wine was not helping. “I stayed in his service for almost a decade, serving his son and wife who was no older than me.” You confessed. “It all boiled down one day when I was fed up with the fucking treatment. I was beaten if I did something incorrect, slapped if I spoke when not spoken to, and something… snapped in me. I… hurt him when he hurt me.” You pushed the wine away from you, eyes welling with tears. “I wish I did more.”
“You survived,” Adrian said with a sad grimace, “You’re much braver than most I know.”
“I didn’t feel brave then,” you admitted. “I felt like a stupid little girl, not capable of anything.”
“Hey,” Adrian seems clumsy in giving close comfort, but he tried nonetheless, leaning closer to finally embrace you. He smelt of oranges and lavender, and you nearly broke down into his shoulder, “you’re the strongest person I know. The bravest witch.”
He seemed tongue-tied with his next words, eyes moving across your face as if he wished to say something that you yearned to hear. “I’m proud of you.” He finally said, but in your mind, it didn’t seem like it was what he wanted to say as if there was something he was holding back.
Was I overthinking? You thought as you pulled away from his embrace, so tempted to lean across the table and kiss him there and then, but you pulled enough restraint to not horrify the man. “Thank you, Adrian. I’m thankful I have you.” You finally said.
“I’m thankful too.” He confesses, quickly realising what he’s just said and the blush on his face is obvious as he tries to change the subject. “I will leave you to catch some sleep. I thought it would be a good idea to head into town tomorrow morning. Gather some more supplies. What do you say?”
You smile sadly, “That’s a good idea.” You’re on your feet fast enough as you say goodnight to one another before you’re speeding down the hallway to your room, wiping the tears that have not dried from your face.
When you reach your room, you slink against the inside of the door. Your head is hammering, vision is hazy. Damn for drinking so much. You groan, only listening to the crackling of the fire lit in your room, the soft luring sound of crisp pages of a book being shut as a lovely interference.
“Ah, there you are.” the voice that pulled you from your thoughts was the one thing you needed to hear, sweet as honey as the figure emerged to stand close by from where you stood. His soft locks are pulled back from his face, and he’s practically glowing in the soft ambers of your room, the fire gently burning to keep the warmth.
Your lips are pulled into a tired smile, which the Dhampir notices quickly enough to soothe you for a night of sleep. “You’re exhausted, my little witch.” He’s yanking you by your hand, directing you to your bed. “You need sleep before it comes for you first.”
“Was it so obvious?” You laugh dryly, and the lack of sleep is fast indeed; your eyes are heavy, limbs sluggish as your mind slows from the alcohol. “I can get myself to bed by myself, you know?”
“I don’t doubt you,” he scolds lightly, the way he moves you is more persistent. “Dreams help everything go away, isn’t that what your mother said?”
“Yes.” You drawl quietly, silent in watching Adrian move around you, sitting you delicately on the edge of the side of the bed. He is gentle in getting you settled for the night, removing your outer layers of clothing until you’re left in your chemise. There is nothing overtly sexual in the way he undresses you, more so there’s such a tenderness to his touches that it almost leaves you weeping.
When you’re ready, he follows, undressing until he stands in his nightgown. You watch as he goes to as he crawls onto the other side to lay there. Shutting his eyes, his light blond hair cascades around the pillow like a halo, his body silent and still as stone.
You’re staring for some time before he speaks up, aware even without having to open your eyes. “Are you going to watch me sleep or are you going to join me?” He cracks one eye open, full of mirth as he catches the exact moment your face brightens.
“Right.” You scootch over closer, lying stiffly beside him on your back, not daring to get any cosier before he stretches like a cat, catching you by surprise as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in close.
“You’re shaking like a leaf, little witch.” He jokes, humming as he rests his head into the crook of your neck. This is all so real, and you dare fear if you fall asleep, it’ll all be gone, a fading memory to die in the back of your mind. “Am I that cold?”
“No,” you finally relax in his hold, having turned to face him, a feeling you wish not to ever forget. “It feels nice.”
“I’m sure one thing could make you feel better,” his eyes are open, watching you almost hawkishly, scooting himself closer. “Though, I’d have to know what you think.”
“What is it?”
He doesn’t answer you directly, but his eyes tell you what you’ve been waiting for. It’s the way his gold eyes glance from your eyes down to your lips, way too slowly before coming back up to meet your flustered state.
Neither of you make the first move, your heart is hammering too fast that you can barely keep up with your racing thoughts. You know he can hear how fast it's pumping, thunderous and dreadful against your ribs. It feels like it could explode any second.
Should I wait for him to lean in? Or would it be better for me to meet him halfway? To see how he reacts.
With your mind racing, your body moves on its own, ignoring your many questions and moving with little patience. A hand finds his cheek, stroking his cheekbone in contemplation, soft to the touch that you gasp from just the exhilaration alone.
You’re not waiting for him when you’re leaning close to him, closer and closer until his face is inches from yours. Your noses bump as you catch the final moment where his eyes flutter shut as you’re copying, stretching over until your lips meet his.
You didn’t know how long you had been counting for this moment to happen. Drinking him in, he is the sun, and you are a secluded plant, waiting for his rays to keep you from shrivelling. His lips are soft, neither warm nor cool as your contact is chaste and quick, and all that is gone when you’re not chasing for more-
“No,” you rasp as you pull yourself from him, leaping up to sit on the edge of the bed. “This is wrong.”
“Oh?” He doesn’t seem dissatisfied or enraged, rather it seems more like a question. He is calm when he asks, voice a soft rumble. “Is it wrong because you wish to continue? Or because you wish to experience this with him?”
You slump in your spot, guilt overflowing your body like a wave, ready to drown. “It’s wrong because… I’m using him.” You hug yourself, ready to weep aloud from it all. “I’m using him for this twisted fantasy, just to feel happy.”
This fake version of Adrian is collected, reaching your side of the bed as he places a consoling hand on your shoulder. “Happy… that you want to imagine a future with him?”
“Yes. Is that so wrong to have?” You sigh exasperated. “I want him to be happy, but I fear… I will never give him that happiness.”
“He’s been through so much already.” You continue. “I think of him all the time: like how the sun can’t live without the moon.”
You’re completely consumed by Adrian: mind, body and soul and it aches that this crush will continue to remain as one. His acts of kindness have completely floored you, confusing you to the point that you were left over questioning every small act he did for you.
The night is long and you’re left distraught, conjuring a version of him that you hope can give you comfort. “What do I do?”
“Tell  him the truth.”
Your head snaps almost drastically to glare at the fake version, who simply looks just as perplexed as you. “I’m just a manifested form you created of him in your head whilst inebriated. I’m the wrong person you should be talking to.”
Sighing defeatedly, you look to him for security. “I’m… confused.”
“How so?”
“Well, I know he sees me as a friend, but he’s just so thoughtful. He carries me back to bed, and we spend all day together. I mean, he drew sketches of me for fuck’s sake—that’s saying something, isn’t it?”
“He seems lonely too.” ‘Adrian’ answers, but it’s a reasonable answer that could be what you’re looking for, regardless of how you’re feeling.
“I know, I know. He’s awkward, but it can’t just be out of friendship.”
“Tell him in the morning,” he says, “you can’t see for yourself if he’s quick to reciprocate your feelings for him. Perhaps then you’ll be able to cuddle something that’s flesh and bone.”
You chortle at his words, knowing how uncanny and realistic he is sitting beside you. “Can we just- can we just cuddle for the rest of the night? Just so I don’t feel so lonely.”
Alucard gives you a sorrowful smile, pulling you into a side embrace. “You realise I won’t be there by morning?”
It’s a sad realisation, but you come to accept it. “I know. I just… want to imagine feeling something for once.”
“Of course, my little witch,” he kisses your forehead lovingly, leading you both back down to lie on the bed. The bed doesn’t feel as big when you share it with another, now in the fond embrace of the Dhampir you conjured in your mind.
“Sleep well, Y/N.” He tells you all the right things you want to hear, the lull of sleep pulls you in deeper and deeper, his voice growing quieter. “I’m still here with you, no matter what.”
“I love you,” you slur as darkness consumes you, the heaviness of your body pulling you into a sleep you need. You don’t feel upset when you don’t hear a response, just the arms of his embrace.
By the time early morning comes, the other side of the bed is cold, and the ghost of Adrian’s arms remains.
It’s not just knowing that the person on the other side of the hallway would never know how you felt, but the sense that you could never go back to seeing him just as a dear friend.
-
A/N:
This was a long one to write, but I hope you enjoyed it!
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kiatheinsomniac · 3 months
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇-𝐔𝐏!*˚ .♡⋆ˊˎ -
𓆩♡𓆪 a Valentine's gift for you! Considering the success it had last year, I'm bringing back Valentine's match-ups for 2024 to set you up on a date with one of your favs! 𓆩♡𓆪 (edited rules as I didn't get the same sort of engagement as last year that I had expected)
。・:*˚:✧。how does it work?
♡ similar to ships, you send me a description of yourself (sexuality, personality, hobbies, likes/dislikes) and a fandom (or multiple fandoms!) of your choice from the list below. ♡ I'll tell you who would ask you to be their Valentine and why as well as the date they would take you on! ♡ like last year, the event will be run on a "first come, first serve basis" ♡ you can enter by sending your information to my ask box! ♡ please keep in mind that entries are one per person and not one per blog. This is to make it fair.
♡ enter now to receive a Valentine's date!
・❥・꒰ CLOSES 7TH FEB. ꒱ ・❥・꒰ 0 SLOTS LEFT. ꒱
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。・:*˚:✧。fandom list:
𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍'𝐒 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃:
✧ I will write for literally anyone
𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋:
✧ Any of the Dimitrescus, Karl Heisenberg, Donna Beneviento, Carlos Oliveira, Jill Valentine
𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐖 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐘:
✧ Elliott, Sebastian
𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐓:
✧ Alhaitham, Baizhu, Beidou, Cyno, Dehya, Diluc, Dottore, Kaeya, Kaveh, Kazuha, Lisa, Neuvillette, Ningguang, Pantalone, Raiden Ei, Scaramouche, Thoma, Tighnari, Xiao, Yae Miko, Zhongli (more will be added as I progress in the game ♡)
𝐓𝐎𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐍:
✧ Any of the ainur/ elves, Aragorn, Faramir, Haleth
𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐀:
✧ Alucard, Carmilla, Hector, Striga
𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐋'𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄:
✧ Howl
𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒:
✧ Tomoe
𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐑:
✧ Sebastian, Undertaker, Snake, Ash/Angela, Charles Grey
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐒:
✧ Dominique, Johann, Noé, Olivier, Vanitas
𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓:
✧ Sherlock Holmes, William James Moriarty
𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒:
✧ Akiko Yosano, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Golgo. Osamu Dazai, Sigma, Yukichi Fukuzawa
𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐋:
✧ Loki
𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:
✧ Brother Day
𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍:
✧ Aemond Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen
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freyanistics · 14 days
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It started off as a crack ship
It’s not becoming one now 😭
Art credit to trebol_draws on Instagram
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brownandblackpearls · 2 years
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🦇𝒯he  𝒱isitor (Alucard Tepes x BlackReader) Pt.6
PART 6 SUMMARY:
Alucard has found you in the depths of his castle. You spend the night outside the castle together, and you bear witness to a few more of your host’s supernatural abilities. You learn more about him, about his life, and he learns of you. You’re both opening up...but what secrets remain? And are you ready to learn those too, under the light of the moon? Or will the shadows swallow you back up...?
─── Alucard x black female reader
─── imagery + fiction
─── explicit smut
─── Fantasy, vampires, hurt/comfort, enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, magic user, cute bats, gardening, cooking, cottagecore MC, castlecore Alucard.
☾ previous. ☾ next.
┌───────────━┿──┿━──────────┐
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└───────────━┿──┿━──────────┘
You imagined Alucard’s return to his form to be something macabre and anatomical, full of moving muscle and crunching bones.
His change back is more like a whisper in the night. Something that is a part of him and not a gruesome, forced curse. Something inherent. Natural.
‘Supernatural.’
He looks to you then, his eyes just the same as they had been when he wore the skull of a wolf instead of that of a man’s.
“You shouldn’t wander,” he says simply, as if nothing has happened. Perhaps to him, nothing had. Another uneventful night in his mind, surely, you guess.
You nod, unsure whether to thank him for finding you deep in the castle’s nooks, or whether you should keep your silence and your grudge over his treatment of you the past few days.
You decide that the night’s events have made you rather tired and that you don’t possess much more energy for anger. Perhaps tomorrow.
“Thank you. For finding me,” you attempt to salvage.
“Always,” Alucard murmurs, before moving away and turning his head to see if you’ll follow.
You do. You feel yourself wonder at his choice of words just now, but smother the feeling.
‘No more investigating every little word or thought. I’m tired...’
You try to keep a respectable distance, yet you note that Alucard slows his pace until he is at your side. His eyes look ahead yet his expression is concerned, and he seems to be struggling with something.
“Earlier, I...” he sighs. “It seems that I keep finding myself in situations where I owe you an apology.”
“Yes. Well.” You don’t try to put on airs. As nice as it is to have someone apologize to you these days, it’d sooner be more pleasant to see action behind such words.
The road held its stories. Anyone could say anything. Never did that make it true.
You learned that the hard way.
“I am sorry,” Alucard states. “I often forget that how I partake in solitude and how I behave with others must differ. Another excuse, yes. Yet it truly is...too easy to forget.”
You shrug. You suppose that if you were a half-vampire holed away for God knows how long...you’d lack certain manners too.
“Does it make you...resentful…? That you must treat a human like me so carefully?”
Alucard shakes his head, looking straight down the dark corridor.
“No. It makes me…remember.”
‘Remember?’
“Remember what?” you ask.
Alucard’s face really shadows over then, and you find yourself realizing that as forlorn and cold as he’s looked since your stay, you have never seen him quite this sad.
“My friends,” he breathes, before turning on his heel and continuing down the corridor.
‘Friends,’ you think to yourself. ‘I never stopped to wonder about his friends. Family, yes. Enemies, certainly. Acquaintances, trysts, lovers perhaps…but never friends.’
“Even creatures of the night have friends,” he jests coolly, but there is truth in it.
You smile, drawing nearer as his steps slow from their hurried pace. He has seemed to remember himself. “You are no creature of the night, just lousy at waking early. And of course you’d have friends. Of course.”
“Of course?” His brow lifts.
“Well yes. Everyone has friends.”
“What about you then? Your friends.”
You pause, finding yourself taken aback. 
What about you? What about your friends?
You’ve met them over the years on the road. Acquaintances, interests…and yes, even friends. But they never stayed. And neither did you. No addresses to pen to. No pigeons to send off. No magic mirrors of legend. 
Just you.
“I suppose…I had them. Before.”
Alucard looks at you then, really looks at you. Then he gives you the saddest smile.
“How lonely.”
You do not know whether to be insulted or to cry. It was lonely. It is lonely.
Perhaps that’s why you fight so hard for attention now that you have something more permanent, more stable...? But you’re not sure how kindly you take that comment coming from someone who lived in a castle vast enough to house entire cities and yet held no one but himself. If anyone should be lonely, it would be Alucard, right...?
...Right?
You look at your skirts and the floor, thinking. 
It was so easy for you to see his loneliness. His solitude wrapped around him like a cloak.
Yours? That was much harder. You hid it. And you smiled, and you said all the right things, but there it was. There it remained.
And perhaps there it would stay, no matter how many towns you went to or sights you saw. No matter how many things you pried out of your host who was clearly not used to company.
You were afraid you would...always be alone. In the middle of the woods, in a crowded room, none of it mattered it seemed.
And it felt like Alucard was looking straight into the heart of it, feeling awfully sorry for you. Maybe more sorry than you’d ever taken the time to feel for yourself.
You feel yourself leaning towards being upset when Alucard moves toward you, drawing your attention.
“It's dark outside and creatures roam, but...the moon is bright and I am here. We could see the garden. Unless you’re ready to retire for the night...?”
You find your eyes widening in pleasure, your heart vibrating with anticipation. A garden hardly holds up to all the wondrous things you’ve seen on your travels, but after a measurable time in the castle exploring its brickways and hidden delights (and horrors), you are ready for some fresh air that is not from a precipitous balcony.
“I want to see...but perhaps you’re right. I hardly think I could make it all the way out there and back as tired as I am.”
You feel yourself wilt at the thought that you will miss out on the outing you’d been hoping for. You had to be realistic with yourself, though. Traipsing these grounds was no cakewalk.
“There is a way.”
You perk up at that. “A secret passageway?”
“No. Well, probably, but no. There is a faster way.”
Alucard comes closer then, peering down at you. You can feel his presence rolling off of him, you can see the tight knitting in his thread-wear. You can even scent his cologne, something deep and dark and old.
“Are you afraid of bats?”
───────────━┿──┿━──────────
Alucard possesses many supernatural gifts. This, you learn tonight.
The white wolf had been illuminating enough. But now, as you are shrouded in darkness, hearing nothing but the sound of flapping and the feeling of thin-skinned wings touching you lightly all over, you wonder what you’ve gotten yourself into. 
When the bats clear and your vision goes from total blackness to the vast night sky, you realize that you stand on solid ground now instead of shapeless, shifting swathes of night flyers.
The cloud of bats is silent save for flapping, with not a shrill or scream to be heard. The mass unfolds from around you, disappearing to the edges of your vision and recollecting out of sight with only sound to signify. 
It happens so quickly, that by the time you are turning to follow the mist of the bats, you hear something that sounds akin to a whirlpool closing in on itself rapidly; you watch with wide eyes as the bats gather together, glowing in a red unshapely blob, before snapping into the image of a man. The last things to fade from the red glow into visceral reality are his eyes.
His gaze appears tinted with humor at your clear astonishment from the whole endeavor.
“See? Faster.”
“I...yes.”
“Did it hurt?” he asked. He stepped away and waited, and soon enough you realized he was leading you once again.
“No. It was odd, if anything.” You think it is a funny question, as you are sure he took the consideration to ensure that the journey didn’t hurt or startle.
You stay close, eyes widening as you spy where he was leading you.
The garden.
The same garden you had spotted so long ago on your way into this place. It is not as blooming as before, the soil covered in pine needles, foliage, and some areas with tarp.
“Ah, you prepared it well,” you note. “You do this before every winter season?”
“Not as thoroughly,” Alucard says, observing the state of the garden. “Usually I let most of them die and sprout unaided in the spring. Only this season did I harvest and prepare.”
“Why?” you wonder.
Alucard looks at you then, and suddenly you realize.
‘Because of me.’
Because of you...you who is wholly flesh and bone, you, a human, you who needs sustenance and warmth and care during the winter months...You are not supernatural like him, and you cannot last like him. This much he understands. He seemed to have taken the prospect seriously by doing all of this work.
You find yourself speechless. A nervous hand of yours draws to the tight curls on the nape of your neck, detangling them anxiously.
“I...thank you for thinking of me. I had...no idea.”
Alucard nods almost imperceptibly before kneeling down towards the drying garden bed, sifting leather-clad fingers through the dirt.
You follow after, the night’s dew glistening back the moonlight and softly dampening the edges of your dress. 
The air is cooling, you realize. You find yourself gasping outside of your control.
“Ah—”
A sudden shiver runs up your body. Winter is upon you and the air’s chill only hints at that fact further.
You feel movement by you and you wrap your hands tightly around your kneeled form, forcing a chuckle through the tremors.
“The chill out here is something else, isn’t it?”
You feel it then.
A large, heavy cowl is laid over your shoulders, covering your frame entirely. You freeze, feeling the warmth emanating off of it. It smells deeply of the smoky scent you associate with...Alucard.
You turn and catch his gaze, set aback. He eyes lower to the lapels, and he angles towards the front of you so that he may draw the clasps closed, covering you completely. He begins to slowly stand, and as if in a trance, you stand with him; perhaps an unsuspecting outsider would assume the two of you to be in a dark, pagan dance on this moonlit night in the woods. Finally fully upright, he fastens the final clasp closed, but his hands do not release you; instead, they trace back to the collar and draw it together firmly, making the coat feel that much closer to your skin.
He has never met your gaze this long. He has never stood this close.
His amber eyes momentarily lower to the buttons, then the ground, and finally they lift to take you in once more.
“I’ve been careless.” The admission is low, almost like a whisper, despite the night’s quiet and the chilled breeze overhead.
Careless? About what? The night air? The revealing of his numerous abilities? Something else entirely...?
You open your mouth to respond but cannot find the words. Alucard fills the silence for you both.
“You are human. And you need more than I cared to give.”
You feel your mouth part in surprise, unsure of what to say.
“I...I don’t understand.”
Alucard leans down then, equaling himself to your height.
“You will.”
You find your body drawing even closer to him, the gap between the two of you growing infinitesimally smaller. He is like stone, still but steady. Something low brims between the empty space, and you feel like something going to occur—
“!”
A long, shrill, almost-human scream cuts through the dark night. 
You feel your heart drop to the sole of your shoes. It sounded bad. Very bad.
Alucard’s expression hardly shifts to the level of fear you currently feel, but you do spot a hardening in his look. Concern bleeds into his face as he turns over his shoulder, seemingly listening to something you can’t hear.
“We’d better be on our way then.”
You nod, eager to get out of there.
“Is that a…night creature?”
“Yes. You’ve met one already, I presume.”
You sigh, agreeing. “Ever since I stepped foot in Wallachia, unfortunately. This place seems to be crawling with them.”
Alucard nods, all-too knowing.
The scream comes again, and this time, it sounds far too close.
Alucard doesn’t look as bothered as you feel inside. You begin attempting to chat away the fear. 
“They don’t go down easy. Well…” you eye him warily, his stature, his gaze. “...maybe not for me.”
Alucard smirks then, shrugging.
“It’s a bit late for a needless fight. Let’s go back.”
You nod, glad for the warmth from his coat. The scream arises again, and you jump this time. It sounds even closer. Maybe it sniffed you both out?
“Should we run?” You ask with a shake in your voice, hearing something hulking and hissing fighting through the trees on yonder.
You feel as though you’ll see some hellish beast any minute.
“Hold on.”
You feel a hand grab you round the waist, and before you know it, you’re in the air hovering like a bird in the sky. You don’t even have time to log the latest ability of your host that you’ve discovered because you’re too preoccupied with watching the ground fall away from you both.
You shriek, closing your eyes and tucking your face away from the dizzying heights into the nearest solid surface, Alucard’s lapels. You try to ignore that you’ve never been quite this close to Alucard, the tufts of his blouse rubbing against your eyelids and lips, the thick material of his jacket flapping near your ear in the wind. You can feel your own skirts tousle about in the air dangerously, but you don’t have the heart to reach down and keep them close to your thighs.
Luckily, Alucard is the sort of supernatural gentleman to consider such things; he wraps his other arm underneath your legs, tucking in your skirts tight in his grasp as you bend, now held like a bride or a child. It is not enough to make you pull away from the illusory safety of his bosom and see just how far the ground is now below you both.
You shake and wonder if he feels the tremors. Your question is answered once you feel his face lower to gaze at you assumedly, his chin grazing your scalp and settling there easily.
“Is this worse than the trip here?” He wondered aloud.
The noise you let out is far from proper and you feel yourself shaking harder from the thrill of being up so high. The bats had hidden the last trip from your sight. It hardly felt like you were moving! Now, however...? You could feel and see everything, with only Alucard as an anchor to hold. Clearly he was used to being a night bird, but you were not. Not yet.
“Don’t look, if it scares you,” Alucard advises before jetting you both off towards the castle.
───────────━┿──┿━──────────
That night at the table is quiet.
You requested a drink before retiring as the journey out into the night air has left you parched. 
Alucard not only obliged, but sought to escort you to the kitchens. Even he seemed to understand the difference of mood in the castle at night compared to the day. His company is a welcomed circumstance.
You sit before one another at the place you last were not so long ago, where your argument took place only hours before. 
The tension from that last talk seems to still have a hold on the setting, you and Alucard both choosing silence for the moment. Tea steams between you both, a pot full. Your cup is draining as you quench yourself, but Alucard’s is empty.
‘Is he not thirsty?’ you wonder.
“Alucard, aren’t you parched?” You gesture towards the tea but Alucard will look at nothing else in the room but you.
“You were right. Before.” he admits. “I do not take human blood. I can. But I won’t.”
You nod, letting him unveil himself to you. 
“Why lie?”
He sighs heavily, wrangling with something. 
“It is difficult to...learn others. Sometimes it feels as though it is for nothing. They all pass by so quickly.”
‘Pass by? What does that mean?’
“Well, traveler I may be, I am here to stay for as long as you’ll have me. I like it here. I hoped I wasn’t burdening you.”
Alucard seems to soothe at that, his shoulders lowering a fraction and his brow easing.
“No. Nothing of the sort.”
You nod then, feeling like you’re both back where you started in a sense. He wants you there, you want to be there, but his actions say a different story at times and it confuses you. At least one thing is settled...
“Why won’t you drink blood if it is beneficial for you?”
He looks shocked then; not that you asked seemingly, but at the way you asked. You wonder if he expected a more angered response from your end towards his vampirism. If he expected disgust. But you know who you look at and where you are. You may not know exactly who Alucard is, but you know what he is. Half a man, half a vampire, and more things beyond either category entirely. 
Those other things are more interesting to you anyway.
Learning what Alucard is was an old task. Learning who he is will be the challenge. As will it be for him to learn of you.
He considers your question for a moment and you almost believe he will not answer it, not until he begins to speak.
“My father...”
You know not if your eyes play tricks on you, but the room almost seems to darken. The candles lower and the fireplace hushes its crackling. 
Even dead, the castle remembers its owner.
Alucard presses on.
“...he drank before. I was not alive to see it. But I know. He ceased the drinking once he met my mother. He was strong enough to go without it, as moral as one such as himself could manage. Stories may say otherwise, but I know this to be true. They were content for many years. After her loss, he drank once again. Insurmountably. None of it quenched him. None of it was enough.”
You feel your face fall. His eyes, as gold as they are...they look so empty right now.
“I will not drink. Not that.”
You sit back, thinking to yourself. Alucard has shared quite a large piece of himself that he keeps hidden away. Even speaking it seemed to cause him pain. And you wonder to yourself as a human woman, what kind of existence it is to be permanently at odds with yourself...your nature singing for one thing, your morality reaching for another. Always at odds, always in a tension.
You see it in Alucard, who you know now to be good. Maybe not open, maybe not the most considerate, but good. And in someone like Dracula, you wonder what kind of person Alucard’s mother was to make such a notoriously cruel creature...a powerful creature... put himself at odds with his own nature like that for her sake. And find happiness in it?
“I understand better now. Your mother must have been a unique person, Alucard.”
Alucard nods, eyes to the table, searching through memories only seen to him. 
“She was.”
It is quiet for a moment, the silence comfortable. Then something seems to spark in Alucard’s eyes before he lifts his gaze to you, curious.
“What of your mother?”
You feel yourself freeze.
‘What?’
“I...” you begin, searching. “We were not close. My story is not so interesting. I will tell you about it on a different night.”
Alucard’s warm look melts away at your expression, and you quickly clear it up to avoid further investigation.
‘You madame, are a hypocrite...but for right now, I can live with that.’
Sensing your discomfort, Alucard nods to the window.
“The morning sun will rise anytime now. We’ve spent the night out and about, and you will tire soon. Even if it is a late morning for us both...”
You watch him, curious as to where he intends to go with this.
“...Yes?”
“...Would you accompany me to the garden once more after resting? There are some final portions of harvest that will not fit in storage. I sought to head into a different town to give them away or to trade.”
Alucard would not need the help of his visitor to sell a few vegetables on the road. He probably wouldn’t go through the trouble of selling any and just compost or dispose of it all, if not for you.
‘So he meant his apology. He is not annoyed by my presence. He desires it. And he seeks to prove it.’
You smile then, plucking up the teapot from between you two and pouring into his cup.
“I’d be happy to come along. And since we have a long day ahead of us, I insist you sustain yourself.”
You fill his cup and it steams. Pulling away, you gesture at the tea.
“Just because you do not drink blood does not mean that you do not drink at all,” you tease. “And perhaps in town we’ll find cider or ale at this time of year. Do you drink spirits, or is that off-limits also?”
Alucard shakes his head and smirks, his sharp fangs in clear view but his pleasure even more so. It sends a hair-raising thrill through you, and you bring your legs together under the wooden table. You hope he does not see, but you are not so sure; he lifts the cup of tea to his lips, gazing at you.
“I think I’ll manage.”
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AN: Do not under any circumstances copy, repost, or edit any of my work. If you see someone do so, please let me know.
☾ previous. ☾ next. 
☾ check my blog for more imagines
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apollostears · 6 months
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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 !︎ʽ︎ 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢
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‥︎ uhh idk what to call this. a blurb ? KEEP READING !
‥︎‥︎‥︎ ANGST
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“i’ll change” he always said. in the beginning the words sounded promising—︎legit. now, as she catches him in yet another lie, “i’ll change” wretches itself from his chapped lips. the words fall with a loud thud on the cool tile beneath them. the weight of the untold lie weighing it down. she hears it. the same way you can hear when a bowling ball drops on a hard ground. he hears it too. but its a different sound. its the sound of something expensive begin bulldozed to the ground, shattered into unsalvageable pieces. it was the sound of her heart breaking, because she knew what he meant. “i’ll change, but not for you.”
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…︎…︎…︎ ❛︎ toji, hawks, sanemi, suna, renji, ichigo, trevor belmont, eren + whoever else ❜︎
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yandere-dark-cupid · 1 year
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Deity AU: darling; Goddess of the Stars and dreams
Sfw:
🌌In this AU, there are 6 main rulers. There are exceptions of course, but more on that later.
🌌 You're not one of those rulers. But If you married one you can be a co-ruler.
🌌 In this AU in general; you're either a human, a deity, or some minor or half-divine being ( like a demigod or nymph ). But in this case, you're a goddess.
🌌 You're part of the first generation of gods.
🌌 You're a minor deity
💤 You hold a very interesting place between life and death
☁ Your domain is more like a realm than it is a domain
🌌 Doesn't work with the deity of death, but works near them occasionally.
🌌 The star nymphs are your helpers
☁ A very mysterious and somewhat unknown deity that works quietly and prefers it to be like that.
🌌 Has 4 pet Samoyeds. They act as your messengers sometimes. Pay them in pets, treats, and belly rubs, please 😁.
☁ You have horse ears and a crystal-like horn.
☁ You have grey-ish wings that blend with silver at the tips
💤 Rejects invitations to gatherings and parties
💤 Has a soft spot for the mortals. Especially children and animals.
☁ Likes going to the mortal realm under the guise of being a human ( for obvious reasons.. )
☁ Though you are a somewhat unknown minor deity, you have a small nice size cult following. And like any other deity, you get offerings from said cult following.
🌌 Offerings for you consist of lavender, tea oranges, white feathers, sugar cubes, music boxes, lyre music, harp music, rainwater and/ or its sounds, moon water, Zodiac crystals, soft things ( ex: cotton, plushies, blankets, etc. ), dog toys and treats, ice cream, cookies, and milk.
{ Side note: Midnight snacks hit differently in your " domain " ( realm )😙. }
💤 Loves plushies
💤 Adores ballet
💤 Is sometimes seen carrying a magic mirror
☁ Has a great deal of sympathy
☁ Is surprisingly petty at times
💤 Does a lot of self-care and relaxing activities in your past time. Like taking a dip in your sweet waters and/or going to the astral plane.
☁ Though as quiet and mostly harmless as you are, reminder; you're a deity. So that means you're not that harmless.
🌌 When upset or feeling a spike of pettiness can and will chuck a meteorite at someone ( like an annoying persistent God or something )
🌌 Your curse consists of an on-site meteor being catapulted at you, being turned into your greatest fear(s), and making sure that you never wake up in a dream ( or nightmare ). There are other curses, but those are your main ones.
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Third deity darling I've done it now and am proud of it 🌟. Are my little star and I hope y'all enjoyed this as much as her as much as I did 💕. As very unrelated as this is, I was recapping Euphoria when writing this. But other than that; Until next time my little tainted Angels, see you soon ❤💜❤ ~
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vampyrcigs · 3 months
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INTRODUCTION
🩸‧₊˚⊹ “Ask nicely, and I’ll bite.”
This blog is both nsfw and sfw. Nsfw writings will be marked as so. Remember, you are responsible for your media consumption. Do be aware that I’m not a professional writer. There will be mistakes and some things may be inaccurate.
I write for male readers and gender neutral readers. Female readers are only when I specifically do it. Please specify the gender in your asks, otherwise they will be defaulted to gender neutral. If you specifically want a black reader, specify that as well. Otherwise, the race will be non-specified.
If I feel uncomfortable with an ask, I will not write it and it will be ignored. No questions asked.
Try to be as specific as you can with your asks, even if you don’t have a plot. A plot to go along with it is greatly appreciated though. Anons are adored.
Character reader asks are also accepted (ex. Bayonetta reader x [ character ])
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🧛🏻‍♀️‧₊˚⊹ STUFF I WRITE FOR
Castlevania (Will write - Still watching) ♡
Castlevania Nocturne (Still watching) ♡
Hellsing Ultimate ♡
Hellsing Ultimate Abriged ♡
Slasher Films
Dead By Daylight
Vampire Hunter D (Still Watching)
Bayonetta
Black Butler
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materialist…in progress || request status…open || about me
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krewekreep · 6 months
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After the Night: Chapter 3 (Flashback)
1.5K Words. Alucard X OC!Reader. Reader is non binary with a femme body. AU but contains lore from Castlevania & Castlevania: Nocturne. Takes place during the last episode and goes from there…
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Angst, Estranged Lovers AU, Soulmate AU, Alucard is a reclusive, flirtatious snarky brat. Not 18+ yet but following chapters may and will be properly tagged as such. Soundtrack: Glass Animals - Hooves (just for the vibes tbh.)
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“Alucard?” You burst outside into the garden, head thrown side to side looking for him. “Alucard!!” You ran about without any sight of him. Did he go to Town? Or did he just take one of those silent man strolls he was prone to doing randomly? You were stunned, confused, you needed to know if this was true.
“You’re about to make me lose my fucking mind…” you growled, your shoulders bunching in animalistic agitation. A letter arrived, a very disheveled letter of warm love and missing of Alucard. How whoever this was missed his kind countenance and thought of their old days traveling. How soon they would be in the area and hoped to see him again, acknowledging he had every right to deny them if he so chose to…since they seemingly left without regard for him. You whip your head to see him breaking through bushes of the forest nearing you.
“Ah,” he said. “Apologies, I was around back and had walked to the river to read. I heard you calling…” in his hand was a massive, beautiful ornate collection of the Divine Comedy, ever the lover of drama to the highest degree. “You sound bothered…” he was worried. He heard from when you began stomping inside to the hard push and whack of the doors opening.
“Yeah, as hell I am!” You were angry. Your eyes staring into him. He didn’t know whether to inquire more…or disappear. Already accustomed but weary of your casual ferocity. “Who the FUCK are Sypha…” which you said mockingly, “and Tretor?! Trevor?” He was absolutely dumbfounded. How did you know about them? Did they show up? Were they here? His heart beat sped up, thumping loudly. Your keen ears caught it, lowering your possessive gaze to leer at him. While you two have not consummated anything, you ended up staying a day, a few more days, then weeks.
Now you could say it was about a month and a half since he decided you weren’t a bother enough to send into the night. This was uncharacteristic of you, somewhat scary to him. He could only muddle his own mind over his yearning for them, how you even knew of them, and why you are so damn upset about it? He wanted to set his hand against your chest to calm you. He would not let them hurt you. He would not suddenly quick you out. He thought you afraid of being abandoned, a soft sweet truly considerate thought.
“Why the Fuck,” you pull out a bunched up and admittedly clawed couple page letter. His heart sank. Was that from them? Why was it in your hands? When did it arrive? What does it say??? Really Trevor and Sypha? His heart yearned soon becoming angered. “You read my correspondence without permission?” There was some heat in his tone. That which you did not appreciate. “I sure fucking did!” Why were you so angry? You had no right. You were nothing more than someone overstaying their welcome. You be well aware you not comparable enough to question him or insult them. He was tired of you for the day.
“Give me that,” he went to snatch the letter from you but you retreated, angrily jumping away from him. “They miss you. They care about you…,” now you were being mean. “Oh how they love you…but alone you are and alone you’ve been…” it was not your place, you wanted to shut up. But how could he care? How could he get mad at you when you could see through this bullshit a mile away. “You call me a swindler?? What in the hell would you consider this!!!” You were absolutely screaming at him now. Thumbing through the pages remembering an especially enraging part. Your voice again mocking the sincerity of the authors. “Oh how we were ignorant to leave you so alone. It is with deep regret we were so selfish and did not consider you.” He wanted to snatch the pages from you as rough as needed. Only he understands…that they mean it. They have to mean it. They are the truest, most loving people he’s ever met. Not their fault he just…didn’t fit into their plans. No, at all costs you would not besmirch them.
He walked down on you easily. You soon reclining back guarding the papers to your chest. You looked to a scowl that while abhorrent was nothing…you knew he didn’t have it in him to really manhandle you. But to your surprise you were grabbed roughly and brought close to his displeased grimace by the ruff of your blouse. You wanted to bite him, bite at him. This was unlike any other spat the two of you had. Both seething mere inches from each other’s face. How upset you were he was upset you were upset simply trying to protect him! How you overheard him talking to handmade dolls or to no one at all, full blown conversations where he’d reply on the others behalf! Your eyes began to water, you closed them snatching away from his grasp and rubbing them quickly. “Are they…the dolls you talk to?”
Alucard…was flabbergasted. He ashamed and caught…exposed and disgusted. He didn’t know how lonely he opens was. He thought he hid it well. He thought… “No, they are not.” He knew you didn’t believe him. He knew you knew better. When he hastily would put them away as you’d enter the library, long after you caught him talking for hours. How you began to interrupt him—join him with the express purpose of being a real person to he could communicate with. So he understands…he could talk to you…even if he didn’t and just sat in silence. Your presence was felt…and he was grateful. But it took time. Every time you interrupt him he felt caught and confused. If you only had needed food, a place to rest, clothes…why did you follow him around? You didn’t follow him…but you did keep up with his whereabouts as often as possible.
You curious of him. Admittedly saddened on his behalf by his decayed social state. How his unnecessarily upset introduction and continued short temper made all the more sense. How you could lay off of him, just a bit, cause some days his head was heavier than others. Some days he wouldn’t look up from the ground. And others you couldn’t get him to look away from the sky. Always somewhere else…when you were right there next to him, open and willing if he just looked at you instead of everywhere, everything else. “Is it true? Are they the dolls, Alucard.”
“You have no right to ask.”
“I do not. But that’s why I push the matter. You characterize me as sneaky and always lurking about! I do nothing of the sort…and how!!! How of this? Had they not done the same? Have they not known the same warmth of your kindness? Did I leave the minute I got what I wanted? Did I?!” You lamented with the tears finally falling. What you didn’t know is they hadn’t left as soon as they got what they wanted. He sincerely understood you even if he didn’t agree with how intense you were about it. You just didn’t know them…but…he evidently had hurt your feelings by treating you with a close contempt. How he hadn’t considered his own hypocrisy allowing you to stay here, attempting to make nice, while he acted as if you were a bother. Knowing he wasn’t bothered by you at all…just…thrown off.
You didn’t know what they all had gone through. You didn’t know they saved your life and plenty others. World Savers. You didn’t know how ungrateful and insulting you sounded. You just sounded extremely overly protective, possessive, offended, excluded. “How could anyone…abandon someone like you .” You cried into your arm, shielding yourself from his now guilty eyes.
“Please…” he reached for you, much gentler, much closer to who he really was. But you turned away. “Here,” you threw the papers in the air. “You want to eat up that crap? Go right ahead.” Turning on your heels heading towards the castle entrance. He leapt for them, somewhat embarrassed at his eagerness. You scoffed unamused, “and by the date it was signed…they’ll be here tonight or late morning. I’ll be gone. I do not plan to speak, play nice, or even thank whoever they are. I hate them.” How childish of you. He knew you didn’t mean that. There was no real way to hate anyone you didn’t know. But your hurt feelings, and the failure of just demanding he acknowledged you…burning a hole into your chest. You stormed inside without another word, muffling your crying. He heard you until you must’ve ascended the stairs deep into the foyer towards the bedroom you chose. Then, with the clawed, crumpled papers in his clutched hands, he read and read and read. His heart racing. He didn’t think you actually were planning to leave. Or that he couldn’t make up to you somehow. Yet, you faded into the back of his mind, the exact thing you didn’t want as he hurried to ready himself and the manor for his long waited guests.
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Next couple chapters may will be continued flashback. Smut + Action. We cooking with grease, now.
(Only tagging who have liked both published chapters, thank y’all! Otherwise please comment cause I will not add all them people over and over again…💕) taglist: @grimmbunniee @clevereclipsecloudcop @lifefullof-depression @nicolls187 @kindadolly @kkeidawrites @catarsis96
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