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mukamibabe · 2 years

Note

Hi!

I saw you write for Karlheinz and wanted to ask if you can write a one-shot on Karlheinz overstimulating his wife as a punishment who tried to escape him,like she was forced by Karl to marry him.

So maybe a lemon of him catching her and the "aftermath"?

I CAN'T ON HOW AMAZING YOUR BLOG IS!!! 💜💜💜

hi! thanks for asking!! <3 and thank you for saying that about my blog!!

onto content warnings, uhh. usual diabolik lovers stuff with like. horrible relationships and such.

also, with the nature of this request, i think this would probably be considered dubious consent? the relationship isn’t entirely clear, i wanted it to be somewhat ambiguous but to sum it up, i guess you could say the reader? s/o? is attracted to karlheinz but has extremely mixed feelings regarding him? or even like.. a one sided relationship but the wife is not as.. infatuated with karl as he is with her, if that makes sense? honestly it might even be seen as hate sex?? it gets more dubcon-ish near the end.

and omg bc i can’t stop talking lmao i also made it so it’s unclear whether or not his wife was a human or not. just for more.. like. oc-insert/ self-insert purposes? idk . and because i still can’t shut up, does anyone wanna like?? let me know if these are too long?? i feel like everything is just long and it’s like. .ok?? i mean it is my personal preference when reading stuff like this but like? ? idk ok anywyas

don’t read if any of this may make you uncomfortable, and also please don’t read this if you shouldn’t be because there will be nsfw content under the cut.

oh,,, and like the last scenario/drabble i wrote,, i still feel like my writing is kind of all over the place so i hope this is ok 😳 idk why im always changing povs and whatnot but i don’t think i did for this one? um anyways go easy on me im insecure ok lmao

A game. That’s all this relationship seemed to be. To Karlheinz, at least.

Like the snake the vampire lord was, he would strike at his prey without any warning, and that is exactly what he had done to the new woman he had called his wife.

It was bold of her, honestly- to escape the way she did. Karlheinz could almost laugh at the audacity, or the fact that she actually believed she could get away from him.

Being the sadistic vampire he was, seemingly something his sons had inherited from him, he found amusement in playing with his food, so to speak. While his prey, in this instance, wasn’t entirely just a meal, holding more importance than that considering he has already chosen to be wedded to her. He wished he could say he knew she wasn’t stupid, but considering her choice to run from him, he wasn’t so sure.

So, he allowed her to run. Like a wolf, testing it’s prey. He tailed her discreetly, and, both to his disappointment as well as satisfaction, she was completely unaware. So, when she finally let her guard down? Karlheinz went in for the kill.

It was silent, and his wife breathed heavily, slouched over as she finally got the opportunity to rest, at least for a bit. She couldn’t deny that it was almost suspicious that her husband seemed to have not trailed her at all, but the thought of being free of him outweighed anything else.

“What brings you here, my love?”

Upon hearing his voice, she looked up immediately, blinking rapidly to confirm whether or not what she was seeing was real.

Her mouth had dropped open, after seeing that, and after a couple more blinks, he was not gone, and was instead, getting closer.

“Worry not, my dear. I know this might be a surprise but I assure you, it’s alright. Lets just get you back to where you belong and we can discuss this later.”

Not allowing room for any protests or excuses, Karlheinz, after stopping within an arm’s length, quickly grabbed her wrist, pulling her closer to him before whisking her away.

Despite her having many moments with Karlheinz, including teleportation, it was still something she could never get used to. Hell, she was barely processing the fact that she had been utterly fooled by Karlheinz, thinking she was safe. It didn’t really help that she was already exhausted from constantly being on the move, as well as her own shock at the situation. Really, she couldn’t even think about defying him, as all she really sought was a rest.

After a quick second, within a flash, both were back at the place Karlheinz called home. For his wife, she would never call it her home, but alas, it mattered little to Karl.

Setting the woman down on their large, plush bed, truly fit for a king like Karl, he fixed his hair, letting the locks fall down after pulling it from his bun. His wife only sat on their bed, refusing to look at her so-called husband, tears gathering from the corners of her eyes. She did not want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her tears. Unfortunately for her, Karl noticed immediately, stepping closer to her before cupping her cheek with a gloved hand.

“Shhh, shh, you’re alright. I’m not going to harm you, darling.”

Lies.

Sure, the woman could agree that he had never physically harmed her, but she knew who he was. She knew how easy it was for him to slither his way into your mind, to have you bend under his will. Perhaps that was why she felt complied to apologize, but it would be a lie. Escaping from him, albeit temporarily, was one of the best feelings she’d felt since being married to the man.

Regardless, she had to stop herself from moving away from him, or pushing his hand away. Or maybe both.

“Go ahead and get some rest. You’ll be safe here, I assure you.” Karlheinz spoke up once again, looking at his wife with a look of faux concern, but she didn’t know that. The woman only stared at him in response, just hoping he’d leave her alone, at least for a moment. Maybe she’d be lucky enough to get some shut eye before facing the consequences of running away from a vampire lord. The lack of trust was clear here, but what else could she do? Surely he had used some sort of magic to prevent her from escaping once more. The windows, that revealed a shining night sky, were nearly impossible to escape from, at least without causing a complete mess. Accepting defeat, for now at least, the woman let herself relax onto the mattress, though not entirely. Not long after, her so called husband left the room after gathering some scrolls that sat on his desk, allowing her to finally drift off to sleep, after fighting it for a moment- being on the run is definitely exhausting, more so than she would’ve thought.

About an hour or two had passed until Karlheinz returned once more. His wife still slept soundly, unaware of his presence. He had no plans of sleeping, really, but had stripped himself of his heavier clothes, leaving him in a loose, thin dress shirt and a simple pair of breeches. Unusual for him, sure, but he quite literally was trying to climb into bed and start showing his affections for his wife.

Before Karlheinz could actually get settled into their bed, his wife’s eyes opened upon feeling the shift in the mattress. Groggy, she squinted, looking up at the pale man though not having the energy to shrink away from him. Instead, she averted her gaze, laying her head back against the pillow. She really did want to go back to sleep, or at least her body did, but doing so wouldn’t be the easiest thing to do, per se. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t have at least a slight fear of how Karlheinz was going to treat her after escaping.

As Karl made himself more comfortable, inching closer to the woman who had given up on worrying and once again found herself trying to fall back asleep, turning around, her back facing the man. This was cut short, however, instantaneously upon feeling an icicle for a hand graze lightly against her neck, making her stiffen immediately. Karlheinz definitely noticed the way she had to prevent herself from recoiling, but only hushed her, his cold body only getting closer to her, chest pressed up against her back. His lips moved towards her neck after pushing away any obstacles, peppering her neck with delicate kisses. It didn’t surprise either of them that this only made her stiffen up more, but the man did not stop, only speaking quietly after kissing her neck for a bit longer.

“Forgive me for waking you, but can you blame me after all? Chasing after you has made me parched, my dear little wife.” He spoke, before going back to attacking her neck.

The woman felt no need to speak. He was going to bite her anyways, and not putting up a fight would only make it worse for herself. Besides, she had literally just woken from her slumber only moments ago. The vampire took his wife’s silence as permission, not that he needed it anyways, and bit down into her skin, sucking up the sanguine liquid that he’d craved since his wife’s little escapade. As he drank from her, he nudged his knee gently in-between the woman’s bare legs. Which, once she thought about it, she had no recalling of ever changing out of her clothes, but didn’t feel like feeding into that trail of thought. She knew the culprit, regardless of whether or not he did it directly. Letting out a shaky exhale, she squeezed her legs together, to which Karl only pressed his hips against her own. It was to her relief she hadn’t felt anything yet, but knowing him, it wouldn’t be for much longer. To add, Karl had also snaked his arm around her, fingertips playing with the hem of her shirt.

“Karl..” The woman mumbled, eyes clasped shut as she, to her dismay, leaned into his touch, focusing on the movement of his tongue, lapping up her blood, to the cold calf that rested against her own, intertwining their legs, not to mention the icy hand that slivered slowly up and down her waist. That hand was quick to start moving downwards, tickling at her hips before she stopped him, pulling her arm from underneath her to grasp his own. She was thankful that doing so made him pause, at least from getting any lower. It was bad enough his bites already made her feel some type of way, and his other affectionate touches did not help the conflict she felt from actually enjoying the feeling of his fangs biting into her.

Luckily, or at least she wanted to think so, Karlheinz pulled away from her neck, to which the woman then shifted, laying on her back looking at Karl, who was currently licking up the remnant off of his lips.

“Don’t deny yourself, darling. You know you want me to make you feel good.” He said, almost teasingly- and it was true. Partially. It wouldn’t be her first time getting intimate with the man, and even just thinking about the mind-blowing orgasms he’s brought her to makes her shiver, as much as she hated it. Letting out a slight whine, the woman huffed in denial, watching, and feeling, his every move. “But-”, is what escaped her lips before Karlheinz moved in for a kiss, prodding his tongue into her mouth, allowing her to get a faint taste of her own blood. Her hand moved to push against Karl’s chest, but both of them knew it really wouldn’t have an effect. In fact, she was barely pushing at all, slowly succumbing to all of his touch, which seemed to make her body melt.

Karlheinz pulled away from the kiss, leaving a few marks against her collarbone before scooting himself lower.

“I know you’re still tired. Let me take care of you, and just relax in the meantime.” The vampire said softly, moving her shirt upwards to reveal her stomach, allowing him to plant a gentle kiss against the soft skin. She did not at all anticipate the feeling of his fangs pierce into her once more, in such a sensitive place, no less. Truth be told, the king wasn’t even thirsty any more- he saw pain as a fair enough punishment for her actions, despite it being mixed with pleasure as well. After biting her again, his lips then moved downwards as her blood dripped down her stomach. He lapped it up, stopping at the hem of her undergarments and looking up at his wife, who shivered at the touch of his fingers that attempted to pull the underwear down. Raising her hand, she impulsively pushed his head away as she stuttered a protest. He only looked up at her for a few seconds, savoring the conflicted look smeared on her face. Ignoring her words, Karl removed the pair, with her hesitant assistance to shimmy out of them and kicking them off so they could get lost somewhere within the comforter.

A primal glint flashed in the man’s honey colored eyes, smirking at the sight of her, wet and clenching around nothing, again, to her dismay. He wasted no time, sitting up as he ran one finger along her folds, getting his fingertip wet with her slick.

“Please,” his wife cried out, though she really didn’t know what specifically she was pleading for. She wished nothing more for him to both leave her alone as well as to fill her up. This confusion was exactly what Karlheinz loved most.

Letting out a quiet chuckle, Karlheinz, without warning, pushed two fingers into her hole, curving them upwards, thumb lightly pressing against her clit.

“Ah, you’re so spoiled, my dear. Even after running away from me, you still get treated like a queen.. You have it lucky, don’t you think?”

“Fuck you.” Was her response, squirming a bit as she tried to block out the feeling his fingers were making her feel. In retort of her hostile reply, the man inserted a third digit, admittedly getting a bit rougher with her, pressing harder onto her clit. As he thrusted his fingers into her, she felt his fangs graze the flat of her thigh for a second before he bit her. Again. Though the vampire had never mentioned anything about ‘punishing’ his wife, it was starting to become clear that the bites were intentional. Then, after marking her once again, he moved his body back up, still fingering her as he claimed her lips for a second time. His fingers continued to work her up, using his thumb to play with her clit the way he recalled. Although both of them were caught in each other’s mouths, he could hear her breaths growing heavier, trying so hard to not let out any sound.

Abruptly, his fingers came to a halt after he pulled away from her lips, to which she let out an audible whine. Looking at the woman intently, he slid back down giving a tiny nip against her thigh before moving his mouth towards her pubis, biting down there as well. It was quick, and no blood had spilled, but it only added to her theory that this was indeed her consequence for running. Then, he moved down to her cunt and with no hesitation, started to eat her out, lapping up every bit of her juices, nose pressed against her sensitive clit.

Biting back a moan, his wife intertwined her fingers in Karl’s hair, tugging at it slightly but it was no use.

“Enough..!” She spat, though unable to help the way her hips raised against his mouth that continued to explore her entirety, occasionally moving upwards to suck at her clit. As she could have expected, Karlheinz showed no resistance and was completely ignorant against her words as well as the slight tug at his scalp. Bringing her closer to the edge, the pull on his hair only got tighter, hearing a string of curses come from his wife who was eagerly awaiting that sweet release. Following that shortly after was a loud moan of his name, chasing that release like a starved animal.

“Hah...! Karl, I’m close,”

Her words came out breathy, almost like a whisper, and Karlheinz’ mouth only got more and more relentless until she came undone beneath his mouth. Back arched, the woman cried out as Karl continued to lap up everything flowing from her.

“Nngh..! Please, it hurts..!” Letting out a choked cry, she tried to squirm away from the mouth that still attacked at her folds, but he had only held her down, bringing tears to her eyes just at the feeling of the overwhelming sensitivity, to the point where it was uncomfortable.

The vampire did not stop, though continued for only a little longer, savoring every cry and squirm, and every little touch she did against him, trying to push him away and struggling to shove him, fists balled. He let go of her hips, letting her fall back down against the bed, legs shaking slightly as she squeezed her eyes shut, doing her best to catch her breath.

At that point, her mind felt almost blank, not even noticing that Karlheinz had swiftly pulled down his pants, releasing his strained length that throbbed at the sight of his wife who had been brought to tears.

Unfortunately for his poor little wife, her so called punishment wasn’t over with yet. Karl had interrupted her time in which she tried to recover, lifting her up effortlessly, pulling him onto his lap. His hardened cock brushed against her, and before she could even manage to protest, both physically and verbally, he thrusted into her sensitive, sopping core, making her cry out, tears falling from the corner of her eyes that remained tightly shut. A few thrusts into her, the vampire laid her back down against the bed, pressing his forehead against her own as he harshly ground his hips against her. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t get any words out of her mouth. The only thing she could focus on was her husband pounding into her, his pace growing faster with every second. Any words that she was actually managing to form only came out slurred, and were then interrupted by Karl’s lips that resorted to kissing her as fondly as before.

His hips began to stutter after a while, feeling her cunt contract around him, moans and cries being muffled by one another’s mouths. The woman turned her head to the side, pulling away from the kiss as she felt that familiar buildup at her core, squeezing her thighs together but it was no use. Karlheinz was ramming into her roughly, making her toes curl and fingers holding onto the sheets for dear life. Just before Karlheinz was chasing his high, the woman gushed against him, and as she came down, her squeezing walls only encouraging the man’s growingly erratic pace, to which he came inside of her not long after.

He stayed inside of her for a short while before pulling out, watching his seed seep out onto the blankets, from her hole. Karlheinz was quick to catch his breath, at least in comparison of the girl who’s tears continued to fall, mouth agape.

“Hah.. There you go, my love.. Let it all out.” Karlheinz cooed, placing a chaste kiss against her cheek.

“Perhaps this will make you reconsider even thinking about running from me again.”

#karlheinz x reader #karlheinz sakamaki #karlheinz sakamaki x reader #karlheinz #Diabolik Lovers #diabolik lovers smut #diabolik lovers x reader #once again pls be easy on me. im insecure and i hate my own writing ;; naturally so SHhhh

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lovely-oh-so-lovelyyui · 1 year

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If you fail to plan, you plan to fail.

No one wanted to play with me as a little kid, so I've been scheming like a criminal ever since - to make them love me and make it seem effortless.

I'm only cryptic and Machiavellian because I care...

Beatrix Sakamaki hcs

Beatrix is handsome.

She takes in nearly every way after her father with her striking gunmetal blue eyes, her strong jaw, and her height.

Those dreamers’ eyes were the softest shades of blue circling one another, like the hypnosis of cerulean.

They were framed by long caramel blonde lashes. She had deep-set eyes, one would think they were unfocused and lethargic if not for her rehearsed icy glares shades of brandished steel striking through the blue.

Not to mention their shared standoffish demeanour, however, her father is chased and admired as the steadfast and mysterious Duke of Calabria. She is the self-centred, ice princess who thinks she is better than others.

How strange is that?

Not to mention her monstrous fangs, it was the talk of society, an abnormality. Most vampiric women had lethal fangs but they were long, thin, and elegantly curled in.

Beatrix inherited her war hero father’s large fangs that would slice the flesh of her lips as a child if she wasn’t careful, they were thick and long, glistening with paralysing venom, one wrong move and she could rip one’s throat clean out. It was commanding and they were a clear symbol of an apex predator.

Some find it alluring as there are very few records of women having such ferocious teeth, some find it insulting, a ducal princess having such a feature is vulgar and unladylike.

Others are tempted to know how it feels, after all, vampires experience another’s bite under 2 conditions. When they’re locked in battle or a lover’s embrace. As a way of signifying belonging to another or dominance of the fiercer vampire, even among men such a fearsome trait was rare.

Her height was another factor that stood out; vampires were no dainty creatures, reaching up to 6’8 or 7' 0, but very few women, especially those of the aristocracy, were over 5 '11. Whereas Beatrix reached 6’3, dwarfing her brothers. Yet even as she stood out, heads turning to her approach, very little had seen hesitance in her footfalls.

Everything about her is purposeful.

The person you stare at in envy because she looks like a creation of Pygmalion comes alive. So utterly fantastic to look at with her fluid motions, and sharp angular features carved of marble creating a creature that invokes a sense of inferiority.

Do not be mistaken these circumstances do not mean she lacked the feminine allure, her mother Adelaide was infamous throughout high society for her beauty, to the extent many would whisper she had the blood of fæ. It was evident if the rumoured blood of fæ did exist, Beatrix had inherited it.

But she is sensible and self-deprecating, with a timid air around her, speaking when spoken to, centring herself as a wallflower.

With her mother’s flaxen blonde hair, with thick curls that glistened like Apollo’s. It was radiant, tousled naturally just so, curling around her pale face almost creating a halo-like barrier separating the veil of reality and the ethereal.

Her face was pale like milk, unblemished, with no unsightly blotchy flush, sheen like crushed pearls, a youthful inquisition imprinted upon such a face that it would not fade even as the years wore at her;. a philosophical beauty if one was ever made. The mathematicians would be driven mad by the perfect proportions of such a face.

The golden ratio as they said.

Aside from a triangle of moles on the side of her forehead. With dark arching brows and adorably feminine lips, no matter how hard she tried her poker face, they were set in a pout, a pale peach-pink that complimented her wintertime shades.

Her hands are thin and nimble from long hours of perfecting her letters for her household, they are pronounced at her knuckles, with rosy nails always kept small and tidy. The constellations of needle pricks along her arms were covered in the kingdom’s finest lace.

The face of regrets, she had this intense aura with her long straight nose that she would observe you from as well as her slender neck and collarbones like that of a swan, decorated by precious gems.

Women gripping their sanity when she speaks to them, looking down at them, her eyebrow arched and her lips pulled into this smirk, an amused yet indecipherable face, smarter, stronger, more chivalrous than their pathetic fiancés. Countless handkerchiefs dropped just to hold her attention, foolish excuses of tired legs as they occupy her table at banquets, brought along to dinner parties with picture-perfect poise as they take hidden glances at this dreamlike entity.

Her most appealing feature (to a man at least - to most her existence itself so paradoxical you could not look away) would be her legs, she had a dancer's poise. Her slender figure curved into wide-set hips, and strong legs with taut muscles.

To her it's all just a burden, her slim pear silhouette just means her corset has to be tighter to emphasise it.

All in all, she looked like the idealistic vampiric woman, with her inscrutable expression, practised politeness, and gentle voice with the sophistication that the affluent lorded over.

Her voice is quite a nasty thing, it’s quiet, throaty, and feminine. It’s commanding, a declaration of someone so obviously of the upper echelon, with her mixed accents of the knowledge of more languages - dead or alive- than one could even name.

It made you feel centred when she talked to you, concentrating only on you, her lips moving inpatient syllables, the attention was flustering, but it was flattering.

But when she smiled? Those rare unpractised uncertain smiles that came with the hesitance of one who wasn't used to joy? She was the most stunning woman in the eyes of the beholder.

She looked her best in her bruised colours. They complimented her golden blonde locks as they fell against bodices of the shades of twilight. Always neatly tied out of her face, even such untameable hair was placed with the purpose to enhance her face.

At her debutante, it was for the sake of her family flaunting their newest offer for the marriage market, or to showcase her dress from the seamstress sponsored by her family, or her earrings from her family's diamond mines.

A perfect political piece. One that raked in just the right amount of attraction without shoving herself out like a harlot, her audience’s shallow curiosity that could never uncover her swallowed secrets pushed down to the bottom of her stomach allowing her to put duty first, such a well-rehearsed puppet it was no wonder no one had ever cracked past her facade.

And I could recite about that beauty of hers for many more pages, but there lay such charm in her sardonic wit that I'd truly be doing her an injustice with just flattered vanity of her physical appearance.

When the water washes away the dark liner, power and rogue blush it reveals tired eyes tinged with lilacs from sleepless nights pouring attention over old, cracking books, possessed by a mind with far more ideas than her body could ever contain.

Her conversations with Mr Moon and the ceiling were never-ending, feet pacing back and forth, curls tugged in frustration, a pathetic figure curled in the warm water of the tub during the witching hour. Her matted hair is wet as she seeks warmth; a cigarette lit between her lips, already the third one. Evident by the other buds in the ashtray yet it is only a prelude to all the other substances she will smoke before attempting to bear with her stifling family at breakfast where her brother’s hateful stares and her father’s refusal to sit at the same table will erase her appetite so she fills herself with the dizzying smoke in preparation.

Rather than the princess in the glasshouses, she is the glasshouse.

Even though she is effortlessly beautiful, she is an absolute mess if left to her own accords.

Her hair was tossed together in a ridiculous excuse of an updo framing her face in the privacy of her attic regardless of whether it was wet or knotted, all alone slouched over the library chairs, hands turning pages of journals that should be falling apart.

Her tongue slips past her fangs, a teasing pink, as she concentrates—chapped lips and a dry throat, a hunger so desperate to fill the void.

So focused on the past not wanting to live in the present.

She spends her days cooped in the West Wing’s library long abandoned since Adelaide’s death, skipping the family dinner times and seeking refuge in a dusty salon sipping soup from her maids tin can, she blocks out the scornful looks - stealing the tiniest amounts of power hidden in her brother’s waistcoat, her sharp accent slurred into something softer and more compassionate - almost human on her fall from divinity.

Cautiously, weaving lies to hide the large secrets in her larger mansion.

Familiar with the dark attic where long hours are spent, the rusted phonogram has been playing the same tunes since she was a child. Long limbs glistened with sweat, stretching and bending. Twirling and twisting, the music slithering into her bones, guided by pure instinct and primal need to continue this solo piece for hours on end, surpassing perfection till her bloody feet, blue and black now dyed bloody red, had created her masterpiece on the floor.

At her core she was a dancer first, a slave to the muses, discarding all to glide in a castle of salt and sand made from soft notes to the tempestuous thundering of instruments. Only broken feet to prove it.

Yet she was sharper than she ever let on, books tucked under her arm snuck into her room, jam stains smeared on them as she carelessly turned pages, folded her pages as her attention is dragged away to another, ink-stained hands noting her discoveries cramming pages that had been filled when no other journals were found and she filled notebooks away with her thoughts only returning to write more about her mundane life, the lines squeezed with the pressure of recording her.

An attempt to immortalise herself, to prove her existence, to stop herself from becoming a nobody that nobody will remember.

They were stacked alongside the walls, making her protective fortress of loneliness, crates of chalk used up as she wrote up equations and erased them upon her walls, spewing the voices in her head across them.

Her inquisition continues. What was the point in starting something if she couldn’t see it through?

She was no lady, not here at least, they could herald her as their porcelain puppet out there but here. In the drab rooms, just past the insect-bitten velvet curtains, the light shone on a little dirty diamond. Unfortunately, her walls had ears.

Jars of stored specimens, dirt so deep under her nails from the dusks and dawns when her silent steps discovered what lay beyond her gilded castle, but her excuses were flimsy for all her intelligence the language of people came weak.

Her brothers raided her rooms of adventure, smashing bottles, tearing and burning pages of long nights, the tiniest mistakes led to unimaginable consequences.

Accusations hurled, the scorn and misplaced anger toppled its boiling cauldron.

God forbid anyone heard her pleas, her father who had long forsaken her too burdened with the sight of his wife’s killer. Her phonogram was in so many pieces, that even her skilled fingers rearranging the coils and metal pieces could not resurrect it.

So she escaped, for more and more days, the hours stretched until she escaped from her tower. Disguises and lies freely flowed and she perfected her art, but all her achievements outside her snowglobe led to harsher winters within.

Unfortunately, children who are starved accept all that is given, the warmth of the outside made her forget how filthy it was. It dragged her down, and the wrong people started seeking her, but it made her feel wanted so she followed the tune of the piper, it was a shelter of delusion and exploitation.

Till that too shattered and she transcended the basic wants and needs.

Perhaps that is where her loathing for the outside world came from, the poison far too deeply attached to her haemoglobin, flowing through her beating heart and corrupting all.

But every action has an opposite effect and consequence, and the cane, the choice of weapon her executioner had chosen, broke her apart further than she had ever been before.

As her facade came apart there was only one solution really, to send the doll shop back to the toy shop for parts to be switched out and replaced, once more winded to perfection till it fell apart again.

She arrived at her new home ‘ Grimhilde’s Academy for Noble Ladies’, on a drizzling January morning.

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summercreolefanfictioner · 1 year

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me rewatching Chaos Lineage Ayato Sakamaki route

like Karl pls let your sons have peace

#diahell #diahell content #diabolik lovers memes #diabolik lovers headcanon #diabolik lovers headcanons #diabolik lovers #kanato sakamaki #ayato sakamaki #yui komori #chaos lineage #karlheinz #karlheinz sakamaki #tougo sakamaki

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secretarykang · 3 months

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do you even think that karlheinz watched a superman movie, and it impressed him so much that he thought glasses will hide his identity PERFECTLY when he goes as at his sons school as a nurse

#fully aware that he has a slightly different design he’s the school nurse or doctor #but its just so similar to how he usually looks #how is everyone fooled??#karlheinz sakamaki #karlheinz

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dialoverssakamaki · 1 year

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Ayato: *Bombastic side eye*

Yui: *Criminal offensive side eye*

Source: Ayato Sakamaki More, Blood Afterstory

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #ayato sakamaki #admin lara #sakamaki ayato #yui komori #komori yui #ayato sakamaki x yui komori #ayayui #ayato x yui #yui komori x ayato sakamaki #yui x ayato #karlheinz #diabolik lovers karlheinz #karlheinz sakamaki #PFFFTTT GRANDCHILD IM CRYING #THEY ARE GIVING THE BIGGEST SIDE EYE FR LMAOOO

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yuikomorii · 7 months

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Ngl gotta agree that Ayato is the backbone of Diabolik Lovers. Without him, everything would be so dull even if characters such as Laito and Shu can be so funny too, somehow Ayato’s personality stands out the most lol

// I literally refuse to believe there are people who are into DL but dislike Ayato. I mean… yeah, he got flaws too but he’s the perfect mix between sweet and spicy. xD

He can be very compassionate and pure but I still love the sassy & funny side and his ability to silence everyone if he wants to, lol. Sometimes I feel like he’s the most real in terms of personality because I swear, he says things most of the players actually think when playing the games.

The translations belong to dialovers-translations and kyouxa on Tumblr

#diabolik lovers #ayato sakamaki #shu sakamaki #ruki mukami #yui komori #kanato sakamaki #reiji sakamaki #karlheinz #subaru sakamaki #dialovers #admin

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carlatsukinamistolemyhamsandwich · 3 months

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Diaboy Yandere Quiz Results

So if you haven't taken my "which one of the diabolik lovers boys would go yandere for you?" quiz, you might want to do that before reading the rest of this post. If you have taken the quiz and are curious as to what the other results are like but don't want to retake said quiz 14 times, then this post is for you! Below the cut are the yandere!diaboy x reader drabbles for every diaboy + Karl that I wrote for the quiz.

Quick warning: These drabbles feature dark content including themes of imprisonment, torture, blackmail and stalking.

Combined these results have a total word count of 3.4k :') If you enjoy them, let me know which one is your favourite!

Shuu

You’re crying again. You’re not being loud about it but from where you’re currently splayed half on top of him—the heat of you warming his bones in lieu of the fireplace he refuses to light—it would be impossible for him not to notice the faint trembling of your body and the growing wet patch on his shoulder. There isn’t any point in saying much when you’re like this, which is somewhat ironic when you’re the only person he’d even consider putting the effort in for. Instead he shifts slightly, moving his arm over you so you’re more securely held against him while the other slips out one of his earbuds and places it into your ear instead. He’s not stupid, he knew what dragging you to the other side of the world—far away from everything you’d ever known—would do to you, but if he’s honest with himself he’d do it again in a heartbeat. It was your own fault, in a way, for making him care, for making the fear when he saw the way Reiji looked at you sharp enough to cut through the numbness he’d lived with for so long. Yes, it was you who’d sought him out in the first place, so no matter how miserable you might be now, you only had yourself to blame.

Reiji

The tea in your cup is poisoned. You’re sure of it, even without the faint bitterness tainting the delicate aroma, you can tell from the look in Reiji’s eyes alone—you’ve seen it often enough. The question is what concoction he’s prepared for you this time; whether he’s decided he’d rather you be numb and pliant or feverish with want. Still, you do not break your composure, remaining the image of grace as you lift the cup to your mouth. The tight corset your captor has forced upon is not nearly as constricting as the way he watches you, his own cup left ignored on the table. Months ago you’d have scoffed at the idea of someone willing drinking poisoned tea, but now you are aware the consequences if you do not will be far worse than whatever toxins he’s prepared for you. He won’t kill you, you don’t think, not when the way he looks at you can only be described as obsessive. You used to think it came from his desire to mold you into his ideal of a perfect partner, but now you’re not so sure. Sometimes, when you catch him watching you while you’re supposed to be asleep, you wonder if just maybe he simply wants you. A pity for him then, that no matter how many restraints he binds you with or drugs he pours down your throat, you will ensure your heart remains forever out of his reach.

Ayato

Blood always tastes at its best when the person being drunk from enjoys it. It’s something Ayato figured out after the old bastard let them loose in the human world, the occasional sacrificial bride being ferried in to keep them from causing enough trouble to attract unwanted attention. But no blood has ever tasted as sweet as yours when you’re pinned down beneath him, whimpering in the ecstasy of having your lifeblood drained away and mixing with his. He draws away only briefly to take note of your expression, eyes screwed up with tears of pleasure brewing at the corners. You look amazing like this, even better than you had in the cute little cheerleading outfit you’d worn to school sports games, back before he’d had his first taste of you. You’d screamed the first time, your usual bright enthusiasm falling off your features as you’d realized what he was. And yet you’d still come to your practice the very next day, a brightly coloured band-aid on your neck to hide the marks. When he’d come back for a second bite, you’d only struggled a little—enough to keep things interesting, but not so much that you could fool him into thinking you were actually trying to get away. No, you want to be here, he’s certain of it, and he’s generous enough to keep you.

Kanato

You’re alone again today. Sitting perfectly still, empty bento box in your lap, eyes shut as you listen to a soft melodic tune through your headphones. You look lovely like this, the moonlight filtering through the window painting the planes of your face a silvery hue. It's only the fact you look so peaceful—almost like one of his wax dolls—that keeps Kanato from tearing your headphones away. He will, once he's had enough of watching you like this, and he knows from your previous encounters that the wide-eyed expression you’ll make is almost as good as the one you wear now. The still healing marks from his fangs peek out from the collar of your white school shirt and the corner of his lips twist. You’ve not told any of your schoolmates of any of your encounters, he’s certain of it from how closely he’s been watching you. If anything, you’ve isolated yourself even further than you already were, only briefly exchanging pleasantries in that barely there voice of yours he’s grown so fond of. The air stirs faintly, a gentle breeze through a cracked open window, and you open your eyes. The fear is immediate as you take in his face, close enough to yours that you should have been able to feel his breath—if he had any need to breathe. He does now, to take in the scent of your terror, and it is oh so very sweet.

Laito

Laito has broken so many mortal things, he’s long since lost count. He can’t even remember what all of them looked like, but he does remember the expressions on their faces in their final moments—fervent devotion, desperation and sometimes just pure madness. You, however, he’s had for months, and yet the light has yet to fade from your eyes despite his very best efforts. Sometimes you even look at him with pity—likely due to what you’ve put together of his history from the scraps of it scattered over the manor—though those days have grown less frequently since he made your move to his room a permanent affair. Now when you look at him, it’s mostly filled with a hatred that burns brighter than any emotion he’s ever had from his other lovers. It’s intoxicating, more so than even your blood. Laito’s not sure when exactly he stopped wanting anyone else to see it—or when he stopped wanting anything else for that matter. He thinks you feel the same way, that you’d like nothing more than to see him dead, enough that it keeps the spark inside of you burning bright. You’d confessed to believing in love once in the early days and he’d laughed at you for it. Even now the memory makes him scoff, for the love you spoke of that day could never possibly compare to this.

Subaru

You get the impression you’re being watched. It’s subtle at first, a small movement at the corner of your eye that vanishes as soon as you turn towards it. A faint prickle on the back of your neck every so often when you walk through the hallway. It doesn’t take long for things to escalate, until you can no longer shake the feeling of eyes on you almost everywhere you go. You think there’s something else going on too, the underclassman who you could have sworn had a crush on you now refuses to so much as look at you and he’d gone running like the devil himself was on his tail when you’d tried to approach him. Other people around you have started behaving weirdly too, a strange hush following you wherever you go, your fellow students going out of their way to avoid jostling you when you have move classrooms between lessons. There is one constant in all of this, and you’re starting to wonder if he might somehow be responsible for it. Subaru Sakamaki, despite the prestige of his father’s name, has the air of someone who’s had a difficult life. You’d decided to make an effort to be kind to him when you’d first noticed it, not necessarily going out of your way to hunt him down, but to grant him a little more patience and understanding than you might normally. He’s currently the only person who hasn’t started acting like you’ve contracted some horrible contagious disease, but you do catch him looking at you strangely sometimes. The moment he notices and immediately turns away are the few occasions you no longer feel watched. His expression in those moments is a bit like someone caught between wanting something but feeling conflicted over whether or not they should have it. And for some reason, the thought that he may eventually make up his mind fills you with nothing but dread.

Ruki

You’re being difficult again. It’s not that Ruki had believed you were past this stage—far from it in fact—but he had thought the punishment you’d received in your last session with him might have at least served as a temporary reminder to not push his limits again so soon. He knows the wounds have yet to properly heal from the faint trace of your blood that blossoms in the air whenever you move in a way that strains the skin of your back—and yet still you insist on running your mouth. Ruki regards you coldly for a moment. Back when he’d first met you, he might have mistaken the look on your face for defiance, but now he takes note of how brightly your eyes shine, the faint tremble of your lower lip. You’re lashing out because you’re afraid, like a cornered animal that hasn’t yet learnt not to bite the hand that feeds. He closes his book and places it to the side, not missing the way you try to hide your flinch as he stands up. There need to be consequences for this type of behaviour, there’s no point in putting this much effort into your training if not, but rather feeling annoyed, Ruki finds himself almost pleased at the prospect. For as much as your insolence grinds, there’s something about the way your tough façade breaks almost as soon as he gets started—and in the way you fall apart under his hands with the sting of antiseptic that follows. You cling to him sometimes, half delirious with pain, and it’s those moments he finds he savours the most.

Kou

Kou chuckles as you cling onto his arm, still unused to the heels he’d forced you into before you left the mansion. It’s honestly pretty cute, although not as cute as the way you keep glancing around anxiously, convinced that at any moment now his fans will appear around the corner and start baying for your blood. That same fear, however, is the only reason you’re here in the first place—his demand in return for not posting staged pictures of the two of you tangled together online. You’re actually doing pretty well all things considered, you even manage to flash him a wobbling smile when he tells you about the café he’s taking you to. Kou can’t quite decide what he likes most about about your little arrangement—that you’ve gotten good enough at acting that he can almost pretend you’re on a date with him because you want to be, or that the scent of your fear in the air tells him is doesn’t really matter because he has you right in the palm of his hand.

Yuma

Yuma’s used to people being intimidated by him. If not for his stature, and it usually is, then the way he speaks is often enough to set those around him slightly on edge. Not you though. No, the first time you meet, you look him dead in the eye without a hint of any sort of fear in your face. It’s not a judging look either, more of an assessment, that you realize he is used to being one of the biggest people in the room but that will carry no weight with you. It feels more like a challenge than anything else, and he feels the tips of one of fangs peek out from where the corner of his lip curls into a smirk. You never show fear when you look at him in any of your subsequent meetings either, even when you really should—like now, when he’s keeping your hands secured above your head with only the sheer weight of him. You're not stupid enough to put up a real fight, not when you can already feel the strain on your bones from his grip, but you are stubborn. And the defiance in your face even when you’re pinned helplessly just makes your blood taste all the sweeter for it.

Azusa

It had been an accident, the first time you’d pushed him down the stairs. You’d been in a rush, running late to one of your classes, when you’d tripped over your own feet, the hand you threw out to steady yourself slamming into the back of someone you hadn’t realized was there. All you could do was watch with a look of horror as the figure lost their balance and fell right down the otherwise abandoned stairwell. Perhaps you should have registered there was something wrong then, when instead of crying or getting angry at you or having any sort of normal response to being shoved down a set of stairs, Azusa—as you’d later come to find out his name was—had simply sat up and stared up at you like you were some kind of god. The second time you’d pushed Azusa down the stairs was less of an accident. He hadn’t left you alone after the first unfortunate incident and no amount of apologizing or promises it wouldn’t happen again were enough to get rid of him. One day, he’d managed to corner you after the ring of the final bell, standing so close you could feel an eerie coldness emanating from his body, and you felt the final threads of your patience snap. In truth, you hadn’t registered how close you were to those wretched stairs—too focused on the primitive part of your brain that screamed to get away from the strange boy—and thus, the quick short shove you gave him was enough to send him tumbling a second time. You’d stood there, frozen, as he slowly sat up, a rivulet of blood trailing down his face from where he must have knocked his head on the way down. And yet the injury was not the most appalling part of the scene. No, that right was reserved for the look of pure adoration in his eyes, directed straight at you.

Carla

You’re too kind for your own good. It’s something Carla’s become painfully aware of over the months he’s known you. At first he’d believed you were simply frightened by him, acting on his wishes to avoid his wrath as so many others had done in the past. But he’s familiar with the scent of your fear now and it is not fear you feel when you check on him after hearing the Endzeit-induced coughs from his room or when you make dishes with cured ham for him after he let slip that he was fond of it. It is a weakness, he thinks, but one he could perhaps tolerate if simply reserved for him. It is not however, anyone who crosses your path is greeted with your good nature and it eats at Carla’s insides far more than the disease rotting his blood. He is the Founder King, he should be able to have what he wants. And he will have you, all of you, so that no one else ever will.

Shin

Shin knows you like him, at least, he’s nearly certain of it. Because despite the hell he’d put you through after you first met, you’d still ended up hanging around him. The once fear-filled look on face whenever you saw him slowly becoming resigned until, at some point, your gaze had started to turn heated. For Shin’s part, you’d only been a bit of idle amusement at first, someone to terrorize whenever the frustration of his and Carla’s situation got to be too much. Eventually, however, your interactions had gone from being a way to pass the time to something he looked forward to; a wolf anticipating a meal. It was the first time he’d noticed the look of want in your eyes that he’d started to feel the same. So then why? If you want him, why does he never quite feel like he has you? His initial conclusion had been that it was something to do with Carla, that you were trying to pull one over on him to cosy up to the Founder King. But no amount of stalking from you from the shadows or checking on your scent every time he saw you had revealed that anything was going on between the two of you. If anything, you actively avoid his brother—Shin’s only ever seen you in the same room together when he himself is present. Perhaps you’re still hung up on how your relationship started, some part of you yet to forgive him for all the things he did to you. Or maybe, you’re doing it on purpose. After all, you’ve seen enough of his wolf form to know that when something runs away, there’s always an instinctive drive to chase.

Kino

Kino makes it seem like a coincidence when he runs into you outside of the local games arcade. You have no need to know he’d seen your social media post featuring a photo of a popular new café, the one opposite the shop he’d lingered in, waiting to stage this particular encounter. He’s done it a couple of times now—pulling at the strings attached to you to arrange these chance meetings. A couple of months ago he could never have imagined putting this much effort into a single human, especially one who wasn’t the Vampire Lord’s chosen Eve, but now it's turned into a game of sorts—to what degree can he entangle you in this web before you start to notice. It’s going well so far, you think him a simple classmate who’s a regular in the area—you’ve even given him your ID for a couple of the games you have on your phone. Tonight’s looking to be a lot of fun too. In just a couple of minutes, the friend you’d been hanging out with will get a call from their mother who should have just received a selection of pictures showing her precious darling skipping the cram school she paid oh so much money for. The friend will likely get called home—a shame, Kino will say, with a smile on his lips, but there’s no reason he and you can’t still have some fun before the night is over.

Karlheinz

Under any other circumstances, the scene before you would have had you swooning. A meal not out of place in a Michelin star restaurant laid out beautifully before you on top of an intricately carved antique table with possibly the most handsome man you’d ever laid eyes on seated at the opposite end to you, swirling a glass full of a rich, red liquid. The view out of the floor to ceiling windows is spectacular, a sky full of stars and a view of the forest and various small towns far below. Except these are not other circumstances, and the man who sits, watching you carefully as you cut into your food is none other than the Vampire King himself—and you are quite certain that it’s not wine that sits in his cup. The view is no comfort either, not when you know you are looking out over the demon world, a place that you’re sure would be quite hostile to you if not for the protection of the man keeping you here. Not that you’d gotten any real chance to see it save for the view from the castle you hadn’t left once in the months since you’d arrived here. You tell if the complete lack of any sort of guard makes you feel better or worse, on one hand at least you’re not followed everywhere, but on the other hand, the fact Karlheinz is powerful enough to keep you here without them makes the odds of escape seem slim.

#my writing #diabolik lovers #Shuu Sakamaki #Reiji Sakamaki #Ayato Sakamaki #Kanato Sakamaki #Laito Sakamaki #Subaru Sakamaki #Ruki Mukami #Kou Mukami #Yuma Mukami #Azusa Mukami #Carla Tsukinami #Shin Tsukinami #Kino #Karlheinz #I think results are also slight spoilers for what personality types are likely to get what result #so do take the quiz before reading this!

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mino-diabolik · 3 months

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Relationship Charts

Template(s) created by @equinox-86

MAIN CHARACTERS

Ayato Sakamaki — Mystic sincerely finds Ayato as someone cool, feeding into his ego, for which he has earned the Vampire’s liking. Their chaotic personalities compliment each other. They are often seen wrecking havoc at any space they happen to be sharing.

Laito Sakamaki — While Mystic isn't as close with Laito as he is with Ayato, they will still have fluid conversations.

Kanato Sakamaki — Mystic enjoys taunting Kanato, like he's a chihuahua to rile up. Let's just say Kanato is not very fond of this.

Subaru Sakamaki — Mystic is aware of the youngest of the siblings and has been close enough to see his outbursts, but hasn't had a decent interaction with him.

Reiji Sakamaki — Reiji doesn't have a personal problem with Mystic, per se. In fact, he has spent enough time with him to know Mystic is a good student and man in general. It's when he is with the triplets that he becomes an utter nuisance and creates double the trouble on his own that the triplets ever could.

Shu Sakamaki — Once more, another brother Mystic doesn't interact with. He sees him passing by and has had to swerve out of the way to avoid tripping over him when he is sleeping on the corridors more than once, but never really had a complete conversation with the oldest brother.

Kino — Within the timeline of LOST EDEN, Kino becomes acquainted with Mystic and his family after a short feud over Yui, who had been living with the Founders as a favor from the Sakamaki. Once the First Bloods welcomed Kino and the Ghouls into the Banmaden, the tension between them started dissipating, eventually managing to build a friendship. It was only a matter of time of spending quality time together (and Kino nearly losing Mystic) for strong feelings to come bursting forth.

Shin Tsukinami — Mystic and his father are acquaintances at best. Since Mystic didn't grow up by Shin's side, they don't have a father-son relationship at all. As a matter of fact, they often feel threatened by the other, always trying to best each other. There are still some hard feelings from the events of DARK FATE.

Carla Tsukinami — Mystic is, quite frankly, terrified of his uncle. He has seen what Carla is capable of and how little he cared with how he may affect them with said actions. However, Mystic has also witnessed the First Blood king to be very protective of his family and—though rather harshly—try to keep them in line. Mystic continues to harbor hard feelings from the events of DARK FATE.

Azusa Mukami — Though Azusa and Mystic aren't particularly close, they do tend to find some form of comfort with each other.

Yuma Mukami — Even though they're always at each other's throats, Yuma and Mystic are pretty close. They actually enjoy the other's company, even though their personalities clash, their energy matches really well.

Kou Mukami — They're not really close, but they do get along. Their liking of music is pretty much everything they have in common. Mystic is a Kou closeted-fan, don't let him fool you.

Ruki Mukami — Mystic and Ruki are only involved previous and within the timeline of DARK FATE, their entanglement beginning upon the pair's first meeting, when Ruki aided the wounded Founder in exchange for his blood. Their unstable relationship is complicated with the ongoing Adam's Apple plan and the trouble from the sudden reappearance of Mystic's family. Without the need to mention, no two serpents should ever be within the confines of one single enclosure.

SIDE CHARACTERS

KarlHeinz — Mystic never encountered the Vampire King face-to-face more than twice since his infancy. However, Mystic's closeness to his sons, as well as the Mukami brothers, leave a wide view for KarlHeinz to pay him further attention. KarlHeinz has shown underlying interest for Mystic due to the complex cross of species that runs in his blood. It also intrigues him how easily Mystic is capable of influencing everyone he comes in contact with. (Especially someone as street-smart as Ruki). In other words, he finds Mystic's ability to "tempt" someone remarkable.

Richter — Their interactions—though few—have been tense and even less pleasant. Fortunately, they don't have to interact much, despite Mystic's frequent visits to the Sakamaki mansion.

Christa — Mystic and Christa never met, therefore neither has an opinion of the other. The Founder is only aware of her due to the few comments Subaru has let slip on occasion.

Cordelia — Mystic met Burai's daughter alive only once in his life. At the time, it was only Mystic that was aware of his familial connection to her at the time. His mother was well aware of who Menae was, but begged him to keep quiet, as they only knew partial facts that led them to the current circumstances. Suffice to say, he disliked the pampered princess from the very beginning. Despite being approximately the same age, Mystic couldn't find anything with which to relate to Cordelia. Cordelia, on the other hand, found him to be entertaining, like a pup of strange habits. The next time he heard her name was from the mouth of her sons, the triplets. Not one of their comments placed her anymore in his grace.

Beatrix — Mystic never really interacted with Beatrix. In fact, he knows even less about her than he does Christa, as neither Shu nor Reiji would even ever mention her.

Yuuri — Within the timeline of LOST EDEN, Yuuri becomes one of Mystic's closest confidant, often acting as a mediator between him and Kino. Mystic wholeheartedly trusts in Yuuri. In addition, both princes are especially keen on the terribly-hidden interest from the Ghoul towards Mystic's cousin, Kazuha.

Socrates — At most, Socrates is aware of Mystic existence from passing comments on KarlHeinz's part. Because of this, Socrates places Mystic in the midst of the havoc within the timeline of CHAOS LINEAGE.

Reinhart — It isn't rare for Mystic to pop at the infirmary during the odd instances Reinhart is there. The Founder has always found the doctor as weird, feeling that something is terrible off, therefore leaving as soon as he is able to. Reinhart has commented on how amusing he finds Mystic, as though he were an interesting comedic relief in the script of a play.

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