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gav-san · 3 months

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A Vintage Bouquet | 3/5 | Mihawk x reader

Pairing: Dracule Mihawk / Fem Reader

Length: 3/5 Chapters

Summary: Trapped in a monastery and threatened with an impending marriage, you'll strike any deal with a Pirate to escape what your father has in store for you.

Previous/Next

No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no!

That pirate had run off.

You clench your fists, turning to regain your footing. That swordsman can’t have gotten far, you reason, pivoting to give chase. So what if he was ice incarnated, a being of demon strength, and deep down scared the bloomers off you?

He had been paid, and now he would pay up in whatever way, shape, or form. You stagger to the end of the ally, where the light of the lanterns is now in full glow, leaving the safety of the dark to trek toward the docks.

You would not let that man take your wine and then just leave! Men eye you warily, especially when they see the blood on your shirt and the mindless way you scheme revenge on one captain with a too-poofy feather in his hat.

“That sonofanogoodmother-” You grind, clenching your jaw, but are sharply tugged out of your dashing by a firm hand on your shoulder.

“Miss nun.” You clench your jaw so hard it pops, sweat rolling down your cheek.

“You have the wrong person.“ You say with a low grunt, moving to try to dart away. But the grip the Rear Admiral presses so hard you curl back in pain.

“Jacobson.” You practically hiss.

Nonononononononono!

That no good swordsman son of a gun had probably told on you! You cursed him to the depths, something deep inside your chest reminding you that you had decided to trust a man so clearly a pirate.

And now you’d pay the price.

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for your wedding?” The Rear Admirals says, moving to face you and diverting you from your course. You swallow back a whimper as the shipyard is cut off from view.

Your feet stumble on the old cobblestone as you are pulled along.

You may as well jump in a wedding dress at this point. You’ve been scammed not only of wine but also of your entire future.

You are pulled straight into the local registrar's office, the Rear Admiral’s Grip, not giving an inch to give you a chance of escape. Luckily, only a secretary is there, who knows better than to do anything other than raise a brow and return to her book.

Even your best, miserable looks don’t shake her apathy.

Jacobson waves you to a spare desk, practically sitting you down. You set the barrels down, giving a chagrined huff at the audacity. You hope he can tell how sore your arms are from the manhandling.

Your only chance is to plead with the Rear Admiral, a man known more for gossiping and enjoying the misery of others than doing actual work.

“So what exactly are you doing, Miss Celestial bride?” Jacobson asks, sitting in his chair and leaning back to swing his feet up. His eyes sparkle with unspoken mischief, clearly deciding what path would be most entertaining for him to take here. The Rear Admiral was always looking to stir up drama and passionately loved being a busybody.

“Rear Admiral.” You say, folding your arms to gesture at the wine. “Just making a delivery.” You attempt to brush some blood off your shirt, only managing to smear it in a delightful swoop. “There were some complications.”

“Hmph.” He gives a gruff laugh. “So you weren’t planning a last-minute escape and planning to bribe a captain with stolen church wine?”

You try not to shift too much, clearing your throat.

“Of course not.”

“I got a call from the monastery just five minutes ago,” Jacobson says with a lazy brow raised, “They’re in a real tizzy to find you. And the wine. They paid a lot for my best vintage, you know.”

“Shall I call them sir?” The secretary nods to the snail on her desk, matching her stiff glasses and suit attire.

You pressed your lips together, taking a breath. Your arms fold over themselves, the rough fabric of your stolen shirt chafing you.

This situation was getting even worse.

Very bad.

The Admiral grins.

“What do I have to do for you to pretend you never saw me today?” You say, feet digging into the ground as you rise to plant your hands before him.

The Rear Admiral laughs, putting a hand to his head.

“You think you have anything better than what your father can give me?” He chuckles, heels clicking on the wooden desktop. The secretary made a noise in her throat, making him sigh, and put his feet back on the ground.

You know what he wants.

A dramatic story or something equally intriguing to talk about may intrigue him. Your lips pressed together, and you decided to fudge the truth.

Just a tad.

“I’m… eloping.” You say, throat turning dry. “To, uh, my secret fiancé.”

The Rear Admiral had the audacity to laugh in your face.

“The fake one in your books?”

“It’s-It’s- NOT LIKE THAT!” You attempt to correct him, fumbling a bit. “I’ve found the real man I want to marry!”

“How convenient it is to find the one thing that would stop your marriage to a Celestial Dragon.” He said dryly. “Another marriage. ”

You take a breath.

“Yes.”

“I’m supposed to believe you so happened to find love right before your arranged wedding?” He says with a smirk.

You bite your lip, turning to lie to the Rear Admiral as you could potentially be a naive young woman who happened to fall in love.

“It’s true! He’s a swordsman who fell in love with me at first sight, and I fell for him! He saved my shoe, and we both knew we were soulmates!” You squeaked. “We’ve already consummated our love!”

Jacobson gave a dry laugh.

“So what does this fantasy suitor look like?” He poked, and you huffed. “Does he even have a name?”

You lean forward, feeling very aggressive.

Maybe you couldn’t turn this around. But like hell, you would just let that pirate off the hook. If you were going to be dragged back to the monastery, you were dragging his name through the mud with you.

He may have taken your wine, dignity, and freedoms, but chances were he’d never be allowed back in this side of the trading routes again for messing with a Celestial Dragons bride. He’d have to own up to that.

You raise your voice, doing your best to give an impression of the guy.

“He is enormous, over six and a half feet, and has a giant sword! Dark hair, piercing yellow eyes! Has a hat with a white feather!”

The Admiral stopped short.

“Pardon?” He says quietly.

You go on, feeling you may be gaining some ground.

“His name is Dracule. He’s excellent with all his swords.!”

And then the secretary paused.

“Dracule… Mihawk?” The Admiral says carefully, as if each word is a hammer hitting an anvil. The swordsman held some respect, perhaps a regard you can leverage. “Is this…your… forbidden lover?”

You doubt it’s to your credit that he knows of the stranger, but you have no choice but to gamble.

And like lightning, you finally have the secretary's attention. Her head snaps up so quickly you’re surprised it doesn’t pop off. Jacobsen’s eyes flash up at the window behind you, a strange look crossing his face. You don’t notice, hands clenching the chair hand.

You narrow your eyes. The name fits, and you can’t help feeling like you are missing something important.

But you’re too far into this lie to back down.

“On both of our honor, I swear it!” You stand, hand to your chest. “That we have promised to be married!” And since you are indeed a stupid, reckless fool bent on escaping at any cost, you doubled down.

Jacobsen gapes like a fish.

You put your hands on your hips as you push down the truth, climbing in your throat.

“Now you see why I was trying my best to be quiet! I cannot, with a clean conscience, marry another when my body has been used and known by another! My, I could very well be carrying a baby now! Would you like to be held responsible for such a debacle?”

Your statement was undoubtedly in the realm of absurdity, but who would refute it? You lean in with a weighty frown.

“Are you truly trying to convince me that Dracule Mihawk,” the Rear admiral paused for emphasis, brown raised high in disbelief, “is your lover?”

You paused.

“Yes.” You declared firmly.

The entire room is silent for a moment. Only the creak of the wind hitting the door rings, but you don’t back down from glaring at the Rear Admiral.

“If this is the truth, he will be required to take responsibility for you,” Jacobsen says, a ruthless grin splitting his face as he rises from his seat. “And he’d vouch for your feelings?”

You go to answer resoundingly but are cut off by a frigid voice with a tone that could split mountains in two.

“Rear Admiral.”

You try and hide your flinch.

A familiar cold voice says, seeming to answer that question. “It seems you found my… monastery girl.”

“Ah,” Jacobsen says, moving to give up his seat, but the encroaching figure whose shadow looms over you doesn’t move, merely places a hand on the chair rail behind you, knuckles brushing your shirt. “So you are at least acquainted with Miss Gabrielle. And seeing how she forcefully brought a Warlord of the Sea’s honor into question, it would be wise of me to clear up this situation.

You take a deep breath, noting the frozen expression of the secretary who was openly staring at the debacle before her.

The extent of how deeply you have genuinely muddled up descends on you like cherubim from hell.

Stuck away in the Monastery, you have heard the names of the Seven Pirates—the terrors the Navy permits to roam unaccosted on the high seas in exchange for their… services. As a Celestial Dragon, your father even spoke of them occasionally. But you weren’t intimately familiar with their names that you’d recognize them, say, if they ended up conversing and agreeing with you that they betrayed, leading you to smear their name. Only now did the name, in context, click.

Dracule Mihawk.

One of the most fearsome Warlords in the Navy and, undoubtedly, the world's most renowned swordsman.

You don’t turn, despite the fact you should be thrilled your ‘fiance’ has found you. No, that tone of anger was hardly one that would soothe you. You’d almost certainly live longer there after having insisted that Dracule Mihawk was your sorted lover, causing an international incident involving powers far beyond you.

Anyone who had helped you could be executed at his discretion, and you doubt he’d care a wink.

And you slandered his name like he was some common ruffian. Your chest should have collapsed in on itself with the sheer audacity your words have spread. You don’t dare look up at him; your chest compresses itself.

You glance back.

The look Mihawk drills into your head will give you nightmares for decades. You do your best to pretend that you are, in fact, part of the chair, even when the Warlord comes up right behind you, placing two swarthy hands on your shoulders.

The weight of his hands pulled you down to sit as if that would lessen the weight of your crimes. The vomit in your stomach flies to your throat. The world seems to go dark, the air gone from your lungs.

You were sure that you would pass out.

His hand settles on your shoulder as warm air swathes your ear, Mihawk’s voice low.

“Breathe. It would be troublesome for you to faint.”

Your breathing momentarily hitches at the motion, at odds with what you thought his first line of action would have been. Your head ending up on a platter, detached from the rest of your body, is more like what you deserved.

You may have been slowly dying in that chair, but the Rear Admiral was thrilled.

“Mihawk!” He motioned to the door, “What a curious situation! I can see we have much to talk about!”

You cringe as fingers press into your shoulders.

“Indeed.” The man behind you says, and everyone can hear the annoyance in his voice.

–X–

People make mistakes. It’s part of living that crap happens, and circumstances change, and there have been many times in your life that you made a poor choice and had to own up to it.

But typically, a person's mistakes can be mitigated and damage modified.

However, attempting to manipulate a greatly feared pirate warlord, also known as the best swordsman in the world, was not a mistake. Accidentally compelling the said Warlord pirate to marry you, lest his honor be besmirched at your baseless accusation, was almost certainly life-ending.

Being married to one of the Seven Terrible Warlords of the Sea in the shotgun wedding was beyond the pale.

And yet, spending your unexpected wedding getting glared down by said Warlord was worse than anything that had preceded it.

It is an entirely new level of horror that has yet to be categorized.

You supposed, sitting in a corner of the barde, you wouldn’t be surprised if he lifted himself off his throne-like chair and kicked you into the sea for the trouble. Maybe he knew that his unhappy presence was akin to death, as his glare was like the weight of an anchor.

Suffice it to say that such a wedding night was unpleasant.

But as the moon's light caught the black water below you, a sliver of anger grew in your chest. After all, this wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t been a pirate and made off with your wine! How were you supposed to know that the guy hadn’t reneged on his promise when he disappeared out of the blue?

He could have said something and saved a lot of drama. But if there was one thing to be said, Dracule Mihawk was good to his word.

He didn’t leave you. Even it meant he had been pushed to sign wedding papers to prove such a thing.

Even so, as you glanced back at the man who finally decided to close his fearsome eyes and end your torment, he hadn’t hurt you.

He just chose the most horrible, embarrassing option to torment you with by going through with the lie, probably deciding to kill you later.

Committing to the bit was a matter of a marriage license, two flourishes from an ink pen, and a witness signature. His cold gaze was so powerful you didn’t have it in you to do anything but exactly as he stated.

Even the Rear Admiral had only dared ask one question as Mihawk threw you over his shoulder as if to insult your early assumptions of abandonment. His tone did little to hide his irritation, but his grip wasn’t painful. You assumed the strongest swordsman in the world could do much worse.

“Where are you going now?”

Mihawk’s voice cut like ice.

“Home.”

You hadn’t realized how painful a fake honeymoon could sound, but now you know you had escaped the frying pan only to fling yourself directly into the fire.

But still alive, you watched as the sun slowly rose and Dracule Mihawk’s ship made its way through the water.

Two days pass in this manner. Mihawk promptly ignored you, and you pretended not to exist, trying not to stroke his anger.

How does one begin a conversation sailing on a coffin, newly married to a husband almost sure to kill them?

One doesn’t.

One instead sits in a corner, hoping the man forgets they are there.

Your throat is dangerously dry, and your stomach gurgles in protest, but you refuse to open your mouth to tempt fate. And it’s not until night on the second day when Mihawk breaks the silence.

“Monastery girl.” His voice doesn’t sound dehydrated, and you bubble with jealousy. You slowly turn to look at the man, who isn’t to look your way. Instead, his golden eyes stare at the ocean ahead as if he can see something you can’t.

You clear your throat. “...Sir?”

He lifted a leg, crossing a booted foot over the other.

“You’re alive. At least you managed that much.” You cringe at his words. “Now that our little game is about to end, I think it’s clear I have no intention of claiming you as a wife. But I’d decided that you are worth more alive than gone.”

“Sir?” You say, a touch of hope that you may live appearing in your voice.

“My part of our deal is done.” He speaks frankly, if not a little bored. “We’ll be parting in less than a week. We’ll pass some treacherous waters, and it’ll be bothersome if you pass out.”

Standing, you brush down your salty clothes.

“Yes. Thank you.” You say, giving a bow. “I’m grateful for your extremely kind help, especially for a pirate…Warlord.”

He provides a scoffing laugh, and you tilt your head in confusion. You give you that look where he stares into your soul uncomfortably.

“I intend to ensure that you now repay your debt to me. I’m not going to let you off so easy.”

You flinch, blinking as he folds his hands together.

“Debt?” You say again, not quite sure what he means, “Aren’t we to part ways? Never see one another again?”

“Hardly.” He grunts, “You can work off the debt you accrued by taking my name and forcing my honor to ensure your well-being.”

You step forward, fists balling together.

“And what can a mere noblewoman do to pay off such a debt?” You say, frustrated that freedom was pinched out of reach.

“I'll consider us even if you can manage to do some basic errands I have. Restoring a garden for one.”

You gasp.

“That could take me years-”

“It will take a long time for the marriage document rumors to run their course.” He says frankly. “This is the consequence of your reckless words.”

“You were the one who left me without a word! If you had kept your word-”

Mihawk stood, rising to his full height. You find yourself barely reaching his chest, courage gone, as a finger flicks your chin to look him in his eyes. His bare chest makes your head feel dizzy.

“Frankly, my dear, you are now a target. I have little desire to keep you with me as I sail, but If I set you free and you are slain, my reputation will be slandered, which would be irksome. Every little worm will try and challenge my title, and I don’t have the patience for that.”

You gulp.

Worse, he had a point. No doubt there were at least two Celestial Dragons eager to put a hit on you. You are surprised you hadn’t thought of such a thing in the first place.

Your throat goes dry as the Warlord stands, the giant sword seamlessly being planted on his back in a well-practiced swoop. He strolled past you, not bothering to give you a passing glance, that damned feather in his hat fluttering.

“Name all your terms.” You say tiredly. “No more tricks.”

“Housekeeping.” He says, with no change in his expression. “I am often away, and my home, my garden, and the island’s inhabitants require constant attention. I shall be gone for months at a time. If you can manage not to die or, worse, sully my home, then you may stay. I'll ensure your safety if you can produce a decent wine.”

You couldn’t come up with a retort, and Mihawk turned, moving to the back of his boat where he kicked open a hatch you hadn’t even noticed.

“But…” Your throat burns when he pulls out a chunk of bread and a large waterskin. He drops them into your hands as he returns to his perch.

“Drink.” He commands, “As I see it, I’m doing you a large favor.”

“A favor?” You say drily, but unable to resist, you drink the water and cuddle the bread to your chest. Mihawk watches the trail of clear liquid roll down your chin, scoffing.

The man slung one long leg over the other, hands placed together.

“Go rest in the hammock below. I tire of seeing that forlorn expression on a woman.”

You don’t have the willpower to resist and stumble to the hatch below. It won’t strike you until later that this is likely the Warlord’s quarters. You fall asleep into the surprisingly soft bed before your head settles on the goose feather pillows.

You don’t even wake when Mihawk opens the hatch above, stepping down to watch your chest rise and drop in tandem with the waves above. With a simple flourish, he drapes a blanket across your body before leaving.

#dracule mihawk #mihawk x reader #romance #onepiece #dracule mihawk x reader

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sims-and-counting · 1 year

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My little Heavenly Bliss is ENGAGED! I am one PROUD mama! We knew it was coming, of course, since Sam asked Josiah’s permission before proposing, but sweet Susan, Heaven’s soon-to-be Mother-in-love called before the engagement and invited us to come DRESS SHOPPING!

I was a little nervous to fly with just my girls - Josiah had to stay home to watch the homestead - but praise the Watcher, all went smoothly! I brought Effie and Pippa along, and Cora travelled from Willow Creek to meet us there. Sister time is SO important!

Susan had arranged for us to visit a cute little bridal boutique in San Sequoia. Their options were a little less modest than I would like, but Susan and Susanna - Sam’s little sister - assured us that they had appropriate dresses.

This first one was Heaven’s favourite - she liked the shape and neckline, but I couldn’t get over her bare shoulders! It’s just TOO tempting to any men that might be around. Heaven should think of her father and brothers!

The next one was Susan’s choice so I tried to be more respectful (she is paying for the dress), but it was just awful! Too tight, immodest shoulders on display, and a sheer neckline! It was FAR too sluttish for my sweet baby.

This one was MY favourite! Perfectly modest, although maybe a little tighter than I would like. But Susan thought it was too plain, and Heaven kept making faces and saying she looked like a nun.

The final dress was a compromise for all of us - her shoulders and neck were covered, it had some sparkle, and it had a skirt that wasn’t as tight as the last few. Heaven made faces, but I think she looked like a proper bride in this one, and Susan agreed! It made Heaven’s countenance really shine!

At the end of the day, Heaven said YES to the dress! Which one do YOU think Heaven picked?

#gen7 #soon to be gen8 #heaven gilbert #emmi arnold #heaven arnold

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taintedevesayori · 2 months

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Diabolik Lovers More, Blood - Sayo's Route: Dark Prologue

Sayo's Route Masterlist

((Okay so quick author's note. No, I'm not giving up on Tainted Eve. I've just got a bit of a writer's block with the story right now. But I really wanted to keep writing, so I thought it might be fun to write as if Sayo was in the More, Blood game. It's given me some inspiration.

Because of that, some scenarios are heavily inspired by scenes from the game and this prologue is one of them because obviously the first prologue of the game sets up the game. Others will have more original content.

Because this is game specific, I changed up Sayo's background a bit. In this universe, Sayo has never met Karlheinz before being brought to the Sakamaki manor, although his presence in her life is still the same, she just didn't know about it. She knows nothing about the Adam and Eve plan. Her friends also do not go to Ryoutei Academy due to the church she grew up in being in a nearby town, Sayo was forced to transfer schools when she moves.

Also I am aware Sayo is not using traditional honorifics like -san when speaking to the brothers. I've never used them in Tainted Eve but I never established that with her character, she picks and chooses who she uses honorifics with based on who she actually respects and how close she is with someone. Game CG is from the More, Blood prologue))

Monologue

A normal life That’s really all I wanted I guess normal wasn’t in the cards for me But escape is still possible I remind myself of this each day

-Sayo and the Sakamaki brothers are in the limousine on their way to school. Sayo is staring off into the distance, ignoring the others

Monologue

Half a year ago, I would have laughed in your face if someone told me I would be living in a mansion and riding to school in a limo with a bunch of rich boys, but unfortunately that was my reality now. I’m an orphan, abandoned by my parents as a baby. I was given to a church in the next town over from where I live now shortly after I was born. It was just a place to sleep and eat. My personality tended to conflict with the strict and pious nature of the church, but I tried to reign myself in the best I could to avoid the punishments the nuns liked to use against troublemakers. To their displeasure, I was out with friends more often than not instead. But they looked the other way for the most part since I was out of the way. I used to have friends. Leiko, Kisa, Emi, and Rena were my best friends. But ever since I had been forced to move here, I hadn’t been able to talk to them much. Half a year ago was when the church decided to get rid of me to solve their problem. Tougo Sakamaki, a politician and proprietor of the church, was seeking a prospective bride for his sons. I had done some digging, and apparently he had done this before. Tougo Sakamaki was also known as Karlheinz Sakamaki, the king of the vampires…and these prospective brides were also called sacrificial brides. Who knew if they all came from the church, but it was probably an easy way to snatch unwanted girls like me. And so, I was sent to live with his six sons-Shu, Reiji, Ayato, Laito, Kanato, and Subaru. It didn’t go over well. The dynamic in the household was chaotic for a while. I wasn’t the type to roll over and accept my new position as prey for six vampires. Normally this would have gotten me killed right away, but I had an interest in fighting and weapons. I always carried at least one pocket knife. I was quick to dodge and find my way out of sticky situations. That included hitting people away from me if need be. Of course vampires were stronger than me, and it only served to piss them off. However, Karlheinz actually witnessed one of these interactions right away. He thought it was amusing and decided I had a greater chance of surviving “the awakening”. So I’m still alive and we’ve learned to tolerate each other. They still attempt to take my blood, but they aren’t always successful. I’m good at slipping away, thankfully. I still manage to irritate them sometimes, but apparently none of them can say they truly hate me. After half a year, we had learned more about each other, even though I still keep a wall up to stop them from getting too close. They wish I would have a better attitude about this, considering I’m supposed to be a bride eventually. At least, that’s what they think. I have other ideas on the matter.

Subaru: Oi, Sayo. Are you spacing out?

Laito: Nfu~ Lost in thought again. Hey, I know you’re always thinking about me but-

Subaru: Enough of that. Oi, Sayo!

-Sayo glances over at Subaru

Sayo: Hm?

Kanato: You’re awfully inconsiderate…having the nerve to get lost in thought.

Sayo: Haah…Did you need something, Subaru?

Subaru: Not really…

-Sayo cocks an eyebrow at him

Sayo: Really?

-The car suddenly brakes

Sayo: Huh?!

Ayato: Woah?!

-The car begins to crash

Sayo: Shit…!

-Sayo’s vision fades to white. She is faced with a man she has never seen before, although feels as if she vaguely recognizes him.

?Karlheinz?: You have awakened, Eve.

Sayo: Huh?! Who the hell are you?!

?Karlheinz?: You are interested in knowing who I am?

Sayo: Obviously…and while you’re at it, where am I?

?Karlheinz?: Fufu..Eve is quite curious, aren’t you?

Sayo: My name isn’t Eve. Are you sure you have the right person?

?Karlheinz?: You have kept me waiting long enough. Even though the apple should have ripened naturally, it has rotted away instead…

Sayo: What are you ranting about? You sound crazy…

?Karlheinz?: What do you think caused it to rot away?

-Sayo simply stares, tired of his cryptidness

?Karlheinz?: You don’t know? The next time we meet, I am sure you will have a guess.

-The man fades away. When Sayo opens her eyes, the triplets are leaning over her. She is sitting on the ground, Laito keeping her upright. The other three brothers are standing nearby.

(Was I just hallucinating because of the car crash…? I must have hit my head…)

Sayo: W-What the hell…?

Ayato: Oi, Sayo!

Kanato: Geez…You’re awake.

Sayo: What the hell happened…?

Reiji: Good grief…I am surprised you of all people would pass out. We were talking about where the culprit of the accident has run off to. Pulling a hit and run like that….they sure have guts.

Ayato: Think a human is behind it?

Reiji: I doubt this is the work of a human. Our car was being driven by a familiar.

Laito: Hm…Then it would have to be someone from the Demon World, I suppose?

Subaru: I wouldn’t call this unusual. Our family has plenty of enemies.

Shu: Haah…This sucks.

Reiji: Either way, let’s go. The familiars can clean up the mess.

Sayo: Never really considered you guys would be attacked like this.

-Laito helps her stand

Sayo: Thanks, I guess.

Laito: No problem, Sayo-chan~ You can pay me back with a kiss~

-Sayo takes his hand, placing a kiss on his knuckles

Sayo: There, debt paid.

Laito: Aw~ That wasn’t a very fun spot.

Sayo: You’re lucky you got a kiss at all. Now are we going or what?

-Later on before school, Sayo is walking to class with the triplets

Ayato: It’s been a while since we’ve been directly attacked, right?

Sayo: Were you attacked a lot in the past?

Kanato: We’ve been targeted plenty of times before.

Sayo: Why’s that?

Laito: Nfu~ Because this world is full of fools? They’ll never stop trying to steal that man’s throne.

???: You there.

Ayato: Hah? Who the fuck are you?

???: Eh? Me? My name is Reinhart. I’m the school doctor.

Laito: Hm? That’s odd…I’m pretty sure it was a woman until now…

Reinhart: She is on maternity leave, so I am taking her place.

Laito: Hmm…I see.

Sayo: Haah…Chill out you two. Did you need something, sensei?

Reinhart: Right. Could you come with me? I would like to speak with you.

Sayo: Me?

Ayato: Oi, you bastard…The fuck are you planning?

Sayo: Ayato calm down! There’s nothing wrong with a teacher wanting to talk to a student. Why are you freaking out?

Reinhart: When I spotted you all earlier, I noticed you looked a little pale. I wanted to make sure you were alright.

Sayo: We got into a small car accident earlier but I’m just fine, sir.

Reinhart: If it was a car accident, you should let me take a look at you, just in case.

-Laito latches onto her arm

Laito: Let’s go to the infirmary, Sayo-chan~ That’s much better than listening to boring lectures.

Ayato: Laito, you jerk…! I won’t let you hog her.

Laito: I’m not doing that. Nfu~ I’m just skipping. Consider this a humble gift from Sayo-chan. Why don’t you two join us?

Kanato: Laito has a point. Let us go. Sensei, do you have an sweets?

Reinhart: ...Seems like you have a couple of ‘knights in shining armor’, huh?

Sayo: Honestly…Haah..I didn’t want to go in the first place! You guys are a pain!

-The group follow Reinhart to the infirmary. He performs a light physical exam on Sayo while asking a lot of questions, much to Sayo’s annoyance

Laito: How exactly were you able to judge her condition from far away, sensei?

Reinhart: Hm…Her aura, I suppose.

-Sayo cocks an eyebrow at him

Sayo: Aura? What does that have to do with health?

Reinhart: Hahaha. That’s just something I can see. This time it seems I was right since you did get into a car crash. It seems like you really are doing okay, though.

Laito: Hey, hey, sensei~ What color is her aura? Vibrant pink?

-Sayo shakes her head

Sayo: I highly doubt that. Pink doesn’t suit me.

Ayato: Well...you have a point.

Reinhart: Hahaha. It is a bit difficult to explain using colors…hers would be like a kaleidoscope, a color that shifts depending how you look at it. At first, you think there’s nothing there but when you begin to move it, you see that there are many colors and aspects to her you’ve never seen before.

Laito: Heh…?

Kanato: Hmph…I can’t insult her when you say it like that…

Sayo: That’s….certainly not what I expected, sensei.

Reinhart: Don’t mind me, that’s just the feeling I get. Well, how are you feeling?

Sayo: I’m just fine.

(We’ll just neglect to mention the hallucination. That will bring more problems I don’t need…)

Reinhart: I see. That’s good then.

Ayato: Oi, teach, offer us something to drink...maybe something to eat, too.

Reinhart: Oh my…Classes will resume shortly. You don’t want to be late.

Ayato: Huh?! What was that?

Laito: I’d love to stay a little longer, though. Come on, Sayo-chan, you should join me in this bed. It’ll be fun, you know~?

-Sayo shoots up from her chair, heading for the door

Sayo: Yeah, no. I’m going to class.

Kanato: I won’t go. Right, Teddy?

Reinhart: Come on, I’ll give you a candy.

Kanato: Heh. I see you are trying to bribe me. However, I’ll accept your puny candies.

Reinhart: Please drop by anytime you need.

-The group leaves the infirmary

Laito: Don’t you think he was a little suspicious?

Ayato: You have a point…

Sayo: What about him was suspicious, exactly…? Seemed like a normal teacher to me. Although a little quirky.

Kanato: That’s not it! He…must be fond of you…

Laito: Nfu~ So we all thought so.

Sayo: Ahaha! Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? You guys are definitely imagining things.

Ayato: It was so obvious! You’re too damn cheeky, Sayo!

(They’re pretty worked up….This probably won’t turn out well. Better make a break for it before things get any worse.)

Sayo: We’re going to be late for class!

-Sayo runs away down the hall

Ayato: Oi! Wait, dammit!

Laito: Aw~ Ditched again~

-After school, Sayo is in the garden, taking out the trash to finish her cleaning duty

?Ruki?: Is it really okay for livestock to leave its master’s side and wander around like you are?

-Sayo turns to look, at first not realizing he was speaking to her. She glares once she realizes he’s looking straight at her

Sayo: Excuse me? Are you talking to me?

?Yuma?: Of course we’re talkin’ to you! Fuck off with that shit!

?Azusa?: We can finally…talk to you…Eve…

(Eve…? Where have I heard that before? That hallucination…?)

?Kou?: Hey, hey~ No need to be so frightened, M-neko-chan~

Sayo: What did you just call me?! Besides, you’ve got the wrong person. My name isn’t Eve.

-Sayo tries to walk away but ?Yuma? steps in front of her

?Yuma?: Hold on.

-?Yuma? grabs her before she can go around him. She struggles to get out of his grip

Sayo: Hey! Get off dammit!

?Yuma?: Tch! Stop struggling…fuck…you stupid sow…!

Sayo: Excuse me?! What the fuck is wrong with you guys?!

-She struggles harder, making it very difficult for ?Yuma? to restrain her. ?Ruki? gets up in her face in an attempt to get a good look at her

?Ruki?: This livestock won’t hesitate to bare her teeth at her master. And you are strong willed. I fear this will not turn out well.

Sayo: If you don’t let me go I swear to god…! I don’t even know who the fuck you guys are!

Ruki: Hmph. I am Ruki Mukami. And the guy who is trying to make you behave is…

Yuma: The name’s Yuma.

Kou: I’m Kou! Nice to meet you!

Azusa: Azusa…Haah…

Sayo: That’s great. Now let go, Yuma Mukami! Why the hell did you grab me?!

Kou: Fufu…We’re transfer students, you see~

Sayo: What about it?

Ruki: Is that how you talk to your seniors? Aren’t you being disrespectful?

-Sayo glares with a small smirk

Sayo: Oh, I’m sorry. As your respectful underclassman, shall I offer you a tour? If I do that will you let go?!

Kou: Feisty~

Shu: Sayo…What are you guys doing to her?

Sayo: Shu…

Shu: I can tell you things won’t be pleasant if you torment her any longer…so will you let go of her?

Ruki: Hmph…Oi, Yuma.

Yuma: Tch, fine.

-Yuma pushes her towards Shu

Yuma: Scram!

-They can all see from Sayo’s expression that she is livid. Shu knows he needs to end this before she blows up on them, if she hadn’t already

Shu: It isn’t like you to cause trouble…

-Sayo rolls her eyes as Reiji walks up to the group

Reiji: What is all this commotion? ...hm? You all…

Ruki: Let’s go.

Azusa: Eve…I’ll see you soon, okay…?

Kou: Bye, bye~

Yuma: Tch…This pisses me off…

Sayo: It pisses you off…?! I’m the one who’s pissed…!

Subaru: Oi, the fuck happened?

Laito: What’s this? Did something happen?

Ayato: We passed by some new people…

-They all turn to Sayo, looking for answers

Sayo: God if I know! Those guys just waltzed up to me saying all this weird shit! And then that tall one grabbed me and wouldn’t fucking let go. Luckily Shu came or I would have pulled my damn knife on them.

Ayato: Next time, I’ll crush them!

Kanato: Their scent…

Subaru: It reeks…

Reiji: I see…

Sayo: What is it?

Reiji: We’re all here now, so let us head home. The car is waiting.

Sayo: Let me go grab my things.

Reiji: A familiar will fetch it for you.

Sayo: Sure…

(Why is he in such a hurry…? Is it because of what just happened?)

-Later on in the limousine

Subaru: The crash earlier…Don’t you think those guys could have done it?

Kanato: Probably…

Sayo: So you think those guys are vampires?

Laito: From their scent, they aren’t pureblood vampires.

Sayo: You can tell as much by their scent?

Laito: That’s right…nfu~

Shu: Those guys…are they attending school now…?

Sayo: They told me they’re transfer students.

Shu: Haah…and it seems like they’ve got their eye on you.

Laito: Nfu~ Shu, are you jealous? You aren’t very relaxed, you know?

Shu: Shut up…The fact you even think of bringing up jealousy says more about you than me…you fake pervert.

Sayo: Fake…? Pretty sure he’s the real deal…

Laito: ....Do you want to die~?

Shu: Hmph…go ahead and try?

Monologue

I resisted the urge to sigh. The atmosphere was too oppressive now. I glanced out the window, trying my best to ignore everyone. It would be best to take a bath and go to bed early. That way, I wouldn’t have to deal with them.

-The next day, Sayo is getting ready for school when she hears a knock on her door

Sayo: Yes?

-Reiji enters the room

Reiji: Good morning.

Sayo: Good morning, Reiji. Is something wrong?

Reiji: There is something I would like to talk about before we head to school. I have to rouse the others, but if you are ready, please meet me in the living room.

Sayo: Sure. I’ll head down in a moment.

Reiji: Thank you.

-Reiji leaves, shutting the door behind him. Sayo finishes getting ready before going down to the living room. Shu is sleeping on one of the couches. One after the other, the brothers filter in

(Subaru, Kanato, and Ayato look like they might as well still be asleep. And of course Shu is still sleeping. The others don’t look much better for that matter…)

-Reiji comes in with a pot of tea, giving each of them a cup

Reiji: I’ve brewed a tea to combat exhaustion for everyone to drink. Subaru, wake up!

Subaru: Hah…

-Sayo resists the urge to laugh

(He was seriously sleeping while standing…)

Reiji: The reason why I’ve had you all gathered here is obviously about yesterday’s accident and that group of vampires.

Laito: Ah. That, is it?

Reiji: Yesterday’s accident was most likely caused by them.

Kanato: It would be impossible for anyone without similar powers…...so you gathered us here just to talk about them…?

Reiji: That is not all.

(Where is he going with this…?)

Reiji: I would like to ask everyone’s opinion on their target.

Subaru: Ah? Target…? Haven’t they come to murder us?

Ayato: Yeah…exactly. It’s ‘cause that shitty old man…geez…

Sayo: I’m assuming you mean your father. Just what kind of person is that guy?

Reiji: Well, it is off topic but I will tell you. Our father has been the head of the vampires for over 2000 years.

Sayo: Seriously? That long?

Laito: His speech is totally old fashioned. His words reek of mold.

Shu: Well…He is a pain in the ass…

Kanato: Our Father is also a shapeshifter. He can turn into anything…

Ayato: He’ll show up with a different appearance sometimes. Even we don’t know what he really looks like.

Reiji: He is shrouded in mystery.

Sayo: Well then…

Reiji: You lot, we’re returning to the previous topic. About those guys’ target.

Kanato: To destroy our household?

Reiji: I think their true motive may lay elsewhere.

Ayato: Aah? What do you mean?

Laito: Nfu~ It’s Sayo-chan, isn’t it?

Sayo: ...huh?

Reiji: Haah…Laito, when it comes to women, you always become very sharp, don’t you?

Laito: Can I take that as a compliment?

Reiji: I am disappointed in you…I do believe you are right though.

Sayo: You’ve got to be kidding me…There’s no way.

Reiji: You were confronted by them yesterday, isn’t that right?

Sayo: I guess…Could have just been to take a jab at you guys, though.

Reiji: I considered that myself. However…if it were us they were after, they could have done so before now.

Subaru: This never happened before you showed up…

Shu: Well…that’s true.

Sayo: There are other explanations for this. Like they just moved here and are getting territorial, for example?

Reiji: I am fairly certain it is you they are after.

Sayo: What reason could they have for that, though?

Kanato: Your blood is the most obvious reason…right, Teddy? You do give off such a delicious scent.

Ayato: Your looks aren’t bad either. But your blood is top quality.

-She rolls her eyes with a sigh

Subaru: What are we gonna do?

Reiji: What is it you want to do?

Subaru: Without you, we won’t have blood. You should stay, Sayo.

(He says that as if I give them much blood to begin with…Oh well.)

Laito: Nfu…Agreed~ Well, I can still enjoy whatever they might do to you, but I won’t let them take you.

Ayato: Your blood belongs to me, right, Sayo?

Kanato: It is mine as well so don’t decide that by yourself.

Laito: What about you, Reiji? What would you do if some other guy tried to steal her?

Reiji: It should be obvious that I do not let others steal my possessions.

(Even Reiji is being possessive? What the hell? This is getting creepier by the second…And again, it’s not like I give them blood all that often in the first place!)

Laito: Oh? I didn’t expect that from you. What about you, Shu?

Shu: Aah…Well…I pretty much agree with you guys…Those guys piss me off…

Ayato: Sayo, don’t you agree?

Sayo: Hearing you guys act so possessive is actually a bit annoying but those guys piss me off so I didn’t intend on getting anywhere near them in the first place.

Ayato: Then we crush them, right?

Reiji: Wait a minute. Is that your only solution?

Ayato: Aah?! Then what do you think we should do?

Reiji: For starters, don’t you think you’ll be playing right into their hands?

Kanato: Their hands?

Reiji: They approached her yesterday to agitate us. If we pick a fight with them, they’ll use that opportunity to take her away.

Subaru: …So what are we gonna do?

Reiji: For now, we have no other choice. We have to watch over her.

Sayo and Subaru: “Huh?!”

Subaru: Lame! The fuck…

Sayo: Yeah! I don’t need a babysitter!

Ayato: Shit…! Having to go through all this trouble…

(And yet he looks like he’s accepted it…?!)

Laito: In that case, I’ll keep a close eye on you every second of the day~

-Sayo glares at him

Sayo: No way in hell.

Shu: I have a suggestion. One of us will watch her…that way it’s that person’s fault if she’s caught.

Reiji: I don’t like how the good for nothing suggested it, but it is the most logical solution to this problem.

Shu: Oi, Sayo. Pick one of us. Hurry up so they stop fighting.

Reiji: The person she chooses will take responsibility and watch her from today onwards. Is that clear?

Sayo: Hell no! Like I said, I don’t want a babysitter! I can take care of myself!

Shu: Don’t you remember how you were caught by that tall one yesterday?

Sayo: He caught me off guard. That won’t happen again.

Reiji: We aren’t taking any chances. If you refuse to choose, we will choose instead.

Sayo: Why can’t any of you just respect my decision?!

Subaru: Maybe we could if you were considering your safety more.

Sayo: You don’t even want to do this, Subaru!

Reiji: Well?

Shu: If she doesn’t choose, let’s just pull lots or something so there are no arguments.

-Sayo glares, remaining silent

(I won’t budge on this. I do not want a babysitter. It doesn’t matter that there are new vampires going to our school. We don’t even know for sure that I’m their target.)

(Yeah, Yuma grabbed me yesterday but now that I know who they are and that they’re vampires, I’ll be more careful. I don’t need one of the brothers following me around every moment of every day.)

Reiji: Haah…Fine. Lots it is. Why must you be so stubborn? Don’t complain if you get stuck with someone less than favorable.

Sayo: I could say the same to you guys. I hope you know I’m not cooperating with this.

-Sayo watches in silence as the brothers draw lots. After a moment, one of them lets out a victorious chuckle

Laito: Nfu~Looks like I get to watch over you, Sayo-chan~

Sayo: Jesus christ…

-Reiji stops himself from chuckling since this was what he meant. It would have been better for her to choose him or Subaru since she got along with them best but now she was stuck with Laito

Subaru: Shouldn’t have been so stubborn…

Sayo: This is absolutely ridiculous…We don’t know if those guys are even after me…

-Sayo grabs her bag, storming out of the room

Ayato: Are you sure this is fine…?

Reiji: Haah…For now at least. We can reevaluate if we have to. Do not go overboard, Laito.

Laito: Nfu~ I would never.

Reiji: Haah...I have a feeling this isn't going to go well...

#diabolik lovers oc #diabolik lovers #sayori makina #sakamaki brothers #mukami brothers #ayato sakamaki #laito sakamaki #kanato sakamaki #subaru sakamaki #reiji sakamaki #shu sakamaki #ruki mukami #kou mukami #azusa mukami #yuma mukami #sayo's route

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lucreziaq2001 · 4 months

Text

•TV show: "Criminal minds".

•Content warnings: Mentions of a stepdad having kicked his stepdaughter out and possibly not allowing his wife to take her back in their house, a husband forbidding his wife from going to see their daughter also because of the rules of the place the girl is in, a girl wanting to keep her baby, while another one wants to give him or her up for adoption and go back home, the doctor the girls are taken care of by not being very delicate with them and causing three of them to die in two years, the nuns not being nice to them either because in their opinion, they sinned and the main character's mother finding out how her daughter gets treated in the place she sent her to and being very upset because of it.

•I apologise if Emily seems out of character, but I needed her to be like that in this story, and she'll change later on. And besides, we don't know much about what she was like as a teen from "Criminal minds". And she is also inspired by a "The goodbye room" character, Karen Watson.

•I also made Emily just two years older than JJ, so she is 19 in 1968 in this fanfiction.

•I made up Emily's stepfather, obviously. That storyline is completely invented by me.

•Doctor Finnegan, the nuns and the other girls, instead, have been taken directly from "The goodbye room".

•The fact that the birth mothers will take care of their babies for 10 days, only seeing them for a few minutes every day is similar to what happened in "The bride of Christ", instead.

•Some of the lines are almost the same that are in a scene of the "Cold case" episode this story is inspired by. I did modify them a bit, though. I didn't just copy and paste them.

•VERY IMPORTANT THING: I am a religious Catholic. If you are atheists, follow another religion or have been through traumas that have to do with religion, I respect this, but here, you are only allowed to insult the characters I'll talk about in this chapter who did wrong things "because of" their faith, not Catholicism or the Church themselves, please. If you'll do this last thing I mentioned, you'll be blocked immediately, let me be clear about this.

•Tags: @lex13cm, @golden1u5t, @rynwritesreid, @reidmeister, @justalesbianwithsomegayshit, @thatonewritersstuff, @marril96, @c-m-stuff, @criminal-addict.

Between their two hearts

Chapter 7: A terrible place and a possible friendship

In the morning of May 18, 1968, just three days after Sandy and her husband had taken Jennifer to Saint Bridget's, since it was hot and he didn't work too far from home, Frank decided not to drive to his office, and in that choice of his, his wife saw a big opportunity.

Frank had told her not to do it several times, but what he didn't know couldn't hurt him in any way, so a few minutes after he had left the house, Sandy took the car and drove to Saint Bridget's to bring Jennifer the slippers she had forgotten at home, but above all, to see her and find out how she was doing.

When she arrived at the institute, she tiptoed inside so as not to be noticed, but for several minutes, she didn't see anyone.

The building seemed to be deserted, but then, she heard voices coming from the basement, so she went to see what was going on there.

Twelve of the thirteen girls who lived at the institute at that moment, all teenagers, were near a closed door, some sitting and some standing, while two nuns watched over them.

They were waiting to enter that room to be checked by Saint Bridget's doctor, Sandy understood it almost immediately from the words one of the girls said.

"Yesterday, I was told that we will only be able to see our babies for a few minutes each day" she then heard her daughter, who clearly wasn't happy with that information she had received, say.

"I don't care" the dark haired girl sitting next to her, who was apparently called Emily, replied "I just want to get out of this place as soon as possible. As long as my stepfather will allow my mother to take me back into their house, of course".

Jennifer, however, wasn't listening to her anymore.

With both hands on her belly and a huge smile on her face, she was only paying attention to one thing.

"Oh, my little one is moving!" she exclaimed a few seconds later, but instead of smiling too, Emily rolled her eyes.

"Idiot! I don't know why these things make you so happy" she then scolded her.

"Well, I've always wanted to be a mom, and it's very nice to feel my son or daughter growing inside me" Jennifer responded, still smiling.

"If you say so. But in my opinion you shouldn't get too attached to him or her. You already know what's going to happen in a few weeks, so-" Emily started to say to her, but she was soon interrupted by a loud scream from the girl who was being examined in the next room.

"Doctor Frankenstein is being even less delicate than usual today" Emily noted, only casting a quick glance at the door that all of them, one at a time, would have had to go through, then turning back to Jennifer.

"Doctor Frankenstein?" the girl questioned, clearly very scared.

"Yes, that's what we call him here" Emily explained.

Having already lived at Saint Bridget's for two months, she had had more than one visit with him and knew his ways.

"He's more of a butcher than a doctor. I heard that in the last two years, he has caused three girls to die during childbirth" she then added, and her words obviously weren't comforting at all to Jennifer.

Right after she had finished saying that, the girl who had just been examined practically ran out of the room in tears, but no one apart from Jennifer and two other girls paid her any attention.

"Jennifer Jareau, you are next" one of the nuns then called out, reading from the list she had in her hands.

"I'm not going into that room!" Jennifer retorted, shaking her head in fear.

"You have to do it. Right now" the older woman ordered "Doctor Finnegan can't wait for you".

"That man is not going to touch me or my baby" Jennifer reiterated, but once again, she wasn't listened to.

"If you ask me, you are already lucky to have a doctor taking care of you" the other nun in the room told her, as if to make her understand that she should have gone to get examined without complaining.

"No! I won't let someone who likes to torture girls get his hands on me either!" Emily tried to say to support the girl who, she kind of felt it, could have soon become her friend, but even her words didn't have the desired effect.

"Well, if you had behaved well, your parents wouldn't have brought you here" the nun who had called Jennifer's name retorted "You have committed a sin of lust and you must face its consequences. Now go, Jennifer. Go into that room immediately or you'll regret it".

So, the girl gave up, and while her mother, who still hadn't been seen by anyone, left the institute feeling extremely distraught, she entered the room she would have come to know very well in the following weeks.

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blackswallowtailbutterfly · 3 years

Text

Witch, part 1

What is your name?

Who are you?

And why do you think to claim me so?

Who are you?

Tell me your name, sir

O-o-oh, who are you?

And why should you think to use me so?

Who are you?

Who are you...

O-o-o-oh, who are you?

[his given name, his given and surname, his given, middle, and surname]

Have you no notion of what I am? Have you any idea the power that courses through my veins? You are no one. You are nothing to claim ownership of my body!

[his given, middle, and surname]

You who would take me for your own purposes but I do not belong to you or any man.

I am the girl of the garden

The maiden of the meadow

The damsel of the dell

And the lass of the land

You who so easily forget the women you claim to love and respect.

I am the daughter of the dale

The niece of the night

The grandmother of the grotto

The sister of the spring

And the aunt of the autumn

You who would have me as your slave and exploit my desperation.

I am the whore of the water

The courtesan of the coral

The hooker of the hummocks

The prostitute of the plateau

The concubine of the coast

And the drab of the dawn

Not even in childhood do I escape your attentions.

I am the lolita of the lagoon

The rosebud of the rainbow

The babe of the brush

The doll of the drumlin

The jailbait of the island

And the flower of the foiba

Yet you would punish me for my own pleasure. So many things you’d call me.

I am the harlot of the hollow

The strumpet of the summer

The trollop of the thunder

And the jezebel of the ice

It never ends, it never ends.

I am the slut of the sun

The piece of the pingo

The slag of the sand

And the barbie of the barchan

Does it ever end? Will it ever end?

I am the bimbo of the basin

The ho of the hogback

The nymphomaniac of the mesa

And the skank of the strath

But am I not giver of life, keeper of the home, and provider of counsel?

I am the midwife of the moulin

The nurse of the knoll

The maid of the moor

The nanny of the nimbus

And the mother of the mountains

Or am I not the parragon of purity and innocence or else frigidity?

I am the virgin of the valley

The prude of the prairie

The cocktease of the cove

And the nun of the nebula

For woman’s beauty do you not take me? Or is it not we who make you hurt us so?

I am the belle of the bluff

The broad of the brook

The wench of the wash

The minx of the moon

The gal of the gale

And the temptress of the twilight

For an animal you take me, meat to consume.

I am the chick of the cosmos

The swan of the sound

The bird of the beach

And the pigeon of the pool

An animal you name me, a pet you own.

I am the bunny of the butte

The dove of the dust

The fox of the flowers

The kitten of the cave

And the filly of the fields

An animal you call me, when I refuse.

I am the shrew of the shadows

The cow of the clouds

The sow of the snow

And the vixen of the volcano

And an animal I am, or don’t you see my claws?

I am the lioness of the lightning

The raven of the river

The cougar of the crater

The tigress of the tides

The puma of the peninsula

And the she-wolf of the squall

And so you promise well-treatment for my submission, which I know through centuries of tears and blood is a lie.

I am the bride of the bay

The widow of the wind

The mistress of the mist

The fiancee of the fire

And the wife of the wild

No part of me can you not use to denigrate me.

I am the waif of the waves

The vessel of the vale

The dyke of the deluge

The nag of the galaxy

The ball-and-chain of the channel

And the biddy of the bight

None can possess me though you try. I am always short of your grasp. Take ownership of me by the laws of men, but you will never have me.

I am the fairy of the forest

The sylph of the sky

The mermaid of the marsh

The goddess of the glacier

The nymph of the northern lights

And the selkie of the sea

And you turn to anger, to insult me, hurt me, denounce me when you know.

I am the harpy of the hurricane

The ogress of the ocean

The vamp of the vent

The siren of the stone

And the succubus of the swamp

Do you understand all that I am? And when my hair has turned to gray and my skin hang loose upon my body then shall men have other things to call me. I am all of it now and ever shall be.

I am the crone of the crags

The harridan of the hail

The beldam of the blizzard

And the hag of the hills

And there are things you call me now, when I do not obey.

I am the cunt of the canyon

The spinster of the stars

The frump of the frost

The slattern of the salt

And the bitch of the bog

It never ends, it never ends.

I am the karen of the cavern

The radscum of the ravine

The suffragette of the stacks

The feminazi of the fens

And the TERF of the tornado

Do you understand now what you have tried to take? By taking me? By taking any of us? Call me what you will.

I am the lady of the lake

The madam of the magma

The doyenne of the dunes

The madonna of the mud

The dame of the day

And the matron of the meteor

How hard you try to erase me.

I am the AFAB of the air

The TME of the terraces

The ciswoman of the cyclone

The organ-haver/bearer of the oasis

The process-or/er of the pond

And the non-man of the moraine

Yet I am more than you’ll ever know, more than you can understand.

I am the empress of the earth

The countess of the cascade

The princess of the plains

The duchess of the desert

And the queen of the quagmire

Tell me my name, know me by my nature. What am I?

I am the witch of the winter

The enchantress of the estuary

And the sorceress of the summit

Try again.

I am the female of the floodplain

The heroine of the rain

She of the shore

Her of the headland

And the woman of the woods

I am every woman and girl who has ever lived, those who spent generations in peace never to know the terror their descendants would face and I am those who’ve never known a life outside the control of men. I am their tears, their blood, and their screams, and I am their songs of hope.

And you...

Part 2

#witch #witches #wise woman #Hallowe'en #Halloween #nature #child of nature #womanhood #female power #magic #woman of the woods #wild woman #forest witch #feminism #female rage #women's anger #slurs #misogyny

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write-r-die · 3 years

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Prisoner - Part 9

FEBRUARY, 1067 - NORMAN CONQUEST OF ENGLAND

Henry Cavill is a respected Norman baron who has been tasked with finding Thomasin Latymer, an ill-tempered Saxon noblewoman, and returning her to London so the king can marry her off to a cruel Norman invader. The two grow close during the long journey, and Henry puts his own life in danger (more than once) to protect the woman he loves.

Masterlist

“We’ve finally run out of wine,” Roger said mournfully. “I knew sooner or later this moment would come, but now that it’s here I must say I’m grieved for the loss.”

Charlie smiled but didn’t open his eyes. “Shut your eyes. You can dream about all the wine we’ll have in London. They’re all doing it.”

He referred to the sleeping men all around them. They were sprawled out in strange positions even though they were all packed together in two or three large clumps to keep warm. After the events of the last few days – and specifically yesterday afternoon – they were too tired to care if Hammond and the Saxons came back and killed them.

The nuns’ presence was somehow reassuring, too. Surely no one in their right mind would attack a bride of the Church, but that wasn’t the only reason they were relaxed. Sister Aldith and the young nun – she called herself a postulant – had gone around tending to the men’s wounds regardless of how small they were. Sister Aldith was quite maternal, and the men all subconsciously decided that there was nothing to fear with their mother watching over them.

“I wonder if we’ll ever make it to London,” Roger said ruefully. The sky had just begun to lighten; dawn was only an hour or so away and he dreaded the thought of facing another long day.

“We will,” said Charlie. “I will get back to London and have a large drink and a hot bath if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Is that Henry coming out of Lady Thomasin’s tent?”

Charlie cracked his eyes open. Henry was walking toward them and Charlie could already tell he was in a mood.

Henry carefully picked his way through the labyrinth of bodies to reach his brother and friend. Kal, too large and awkward to wade into the crowd, patrolled the perimeter of sleeping men to ensure all were accounted for and sleeping soundly.

“Good morning,” Roger said brightly.

“It’s not morning,” Charlie said pointedly, shutting his eyes again.

“He’s right,” Henry agreed. “There’s no reason for you to be cheery at this ungodly hour, Roger.”

“I’m always cheery.”

“What were you doing in Lady Thomasin’s tent?” Charlie asked.

“Just wanted to be sure all was well.”

“And is it?” asked Roger.

“It was until I woke her,” Henry replied. “I’m going to ride ahead to London. I’ll be there in two days if I only take a handful of men with me.”

“In a hurry?” Roger asked.

“It’s a good idea,” Charlie said. “King William will be wondering where we are. The last thing we need is for him to send someone to fetch us.” And the sooner Henry was in London, the sooner he could ask for her hand, the sooner Charlie’s weeks-long headache over Henry’s shameless pining would be over. “By my reckoning, it will take us four or so more days to get there depending on how long we have to wait for Thomasin to heal enough to ride.”

“And how long it will take to escort the nuns back to their convent,” Roger added.

Henry took a deep breath through his nose. The last thing he wanted to think about was that convent. He had no doubt Thomasin could get away from Charlie and Roger if she wanted to – she need only make up some excuse to set foot on church grounds and she would be granted sanctuary. He just didn’t want to picture it.

“Yes,” he said.

“Are you leaving now?”

“Yes. The sooner the better.”

“All right, then,” said Roger. “We’ll see you in a few days.”

Henry grunted in reply. Then, a moment later, “Make sure she doesn’t get shot again.”

“What are you thinking about?” Stephanie asked.

She woke only a few minutes after Henry left. She’d slept late by the convent’s standards; she would ordinarily be more than halfway through mass in the chapel by now. Instead she was working to mend Thomasin’s gown. It was beyond saving at this point, but it had to hold up until she reached London.

Thomasin lay half on her back and half on her side. She sighed through her nose. “Henry. He called me Tom.”

“That’s awfully familiar of him.”

“I hate being called Tom. It’s a man’s name,” Thomasin continued, ignoring her sister’s statement. “You and Justina are the only ones who call me that and only because you know I hate it.”

Stephanie shrugged.

“He wants to marry me.”

“I know,” Stephanie said.

“What?” Thomasin pushed herself into a sitting position. The pain of exerting her injured arm and shoulder nearly knocked her back down, but she forced herself to stay upright. “How do you know?”

“He told me so,” Stephanie said simply.

Thomasin’s eyes and nostrils widened in rage. “When was this?”

“While you were asleep.”

“And what – he casually mentioned that he’d like to shackle himself to me for the rest of his life?”

Stephanie shrugged her narrow shoulders. “I asked him.” She didn’t look up from her sewing.

“Why in God’s name –”

“You mustn’t take the Lord’s name in vain, Tom.”

“Don’t call me Tom!” the younger girl shouted. “What possible reason could you have for asking him if –”

“I haven’t seen you in four years.” Stephanie’s eyes flickered up to Thomasin’s. “Our father is dead now. There’s no one left to look after you. I wanted to know what’s to become of my little sister.” Thomasin averted her eyes so Stephanie wouldn’t see the tears gathering in them. “Will you marry him?”

“Yes, if the king allows it,” Thomasin said. “I’m sure he will.”

“Do you want to marry him?”

Thomasin pulled her eyebrows together. “Are you saying I ought to take my chances with a stranger?”

“No,” Stephanie said. “I’m saying you don’t have to marry at all.”

Henry rode halfway through the night, and when he did stop, it was more for the horses’ sake than his or his men’s. The faster they get to London, the better, to his way of thinking.

He’d grown used to sleeping near Thomasin. Even on the nights when Henry wasn’t in the tent with her, he was always nearby. He worried she would attempt to escape again and somehow hurt herself – or, more likely, one of the men.

Once, he even slept directly outside of the tent; he could’ve reached out and touched her were it not for the sheet of fabric separating them.

Kal took the liberty of snuggling up tight against his master. He fixed his brown eyes on Henry and exhaled through his nose as though he were sighing.

Henry sighed back. “I miss her, too,” he murmured.

They only slept for a few hours; once dawn broke, the men were mounted and riding again. They reached London by nightfall.

Henry went straight from the stables to the throne room without stopping to remove his armor. He instead removed it as he walked, letting the pieces fall to the ground. Jamie, ever the dutiful squire, did his best to catch them all.

During his conquest, William the Bastard had saved the capital, England’s greatest prize, for last.

He invaded in December after first laying siege to the surrounding area to weaken the people’s spirits and make them more pliable to his intentions. He lay waste to the surrounding countryside, cutting off all supply routes to the city, then intentionally left the people to stew for weeks before finally attacking and capturing the city.

It was about a month since Henry had left this castle to return Lady Thomasin at the king’s behest.

Henry had only been to William’s castle once before, but he had the palace’s layout nearly memorized. He did not need to be escorted to the throne room, but a servant led him through the halls anyway for the sake of formality.

He passed a handful of acquaintances and friends but did not stop to speak with them. He was about the king’s business and could not be delayed.

The heavy wooden doors to the throne room opened and the servant fell into a theatrical bow. “Your grace, Baron Cavill’s fourth son, Henry, is here to see you”

“Ah, Henry!” the king called from his seat on the throne. “Do come in.”

William the Conqueror was nearly forty years of age. He was remarkably strong and clever, and no one in the world could rival his skill as a horseman or swordsman; he was growing steadily rounder with age, though, and his brown hair was dappled with grey.

Henry knelt before the raised dais the throne sat upon and put his hand over his heart. “Your grace.”

“Stand,” William said with a smile. He returned to his throne and took a seat. “Henry, I cannot help but notice that you arrived with two dozen knights and no Saxon woman. Has she escaped you?”

Not yet.

“No, Sire. Our party was set upon by a band of Saxon rebels while we were on the road. Lady Thomasin was injured in the fray.”

“Injured how?”

Henry took a deep breath. William would likely blame him for her injuries, since he was the one tasked with protecting her. “Lady Thomasin was struck twice with arrows. One went through the top of her arm, just here –” he pointed to a spot on his arm “ – and the other struck her in the left shoulder from behind. We don’t know if the arrow was meant to kill her or not.”

“Saxons did this?” William asked, brows furrowed. “Didn’t they know she was one of their own?”

Henry cleared his throat. “Her brother is the one who shot her. He’s the finest archer I’ve ever seen; shooting Lady Thomasin was no accident.”

William’s eyes widened in disbelief. “He shot his own sister?”

Henry’s throat tightened. “Yes.”

William shook his head the slightest bit. “Saxons.” They were wild as pagans, this lot, and apparently sororicidal. William wouldn’t say such things about his new subjects of course, but the thought was in his mind as it was in every other Norman’s. “Continue.”

“The arrowhead was trapped within the flesh; we could not remove it. We had to summon healers from an abbey. They had to cut into her shoulder from the front to find the arrowhead and dig it out.”

The king winced in sympathy. “Poor woman. Will she live?”

“Yes. She’s well enough to shout at me, but I want her to recover more before traveling.”

William nodded. “I think that’s wise. I must say I am surprised that you came here to tell me instead of sending a messenger.”

“Lady Thomasin is my responsibility. I thought it only proper to tell you myself.” He took a deep breath to summon his courage. “And I wish to speak to you about another matter concerning the lady.”

William motioned for Henry to stop speaking. “Tomorrow, perhaps, or the day after, after you tell me the rest of your tale. Tonight you will eat and rest. And bathe,” he added with a grin. “I fear the ladies at court will swoon if they smell you too closely.”

Henry smiled to himself remembering what happened the last time he attempted to bathe. “Thank you, your grace.”

Henry thought to bathe before sleeping, but after weeks of travel to and from Thomasin’s home, the bed was too warm and inviting to refuse. Kal had already claimed the side closer to the door in case he needed to protect Henry from intruders.

Henry removed the last of his traveling clothes before he flopped down on his stomach beside the snoring beast. He was so tired, he almost didn’t get under the covers.

He fantasized about how he and Thomasin would keep each other warm – how they’d work themselves into a sweat. Her plush lips and agile tongue sucking and licking while his hands were knotted in her thick hair. And later her plush thighs spread wide to cradle his hips, her pink passage wet and waiting to welcome him home.

He imagined her draped over his chest like a heavy blanket. He’d still be sheathed within her, of course, both to increase their chances of conception and because it was warm and comfortable. She’d press her ear to his chest to listen to his heartbeat while he stroked her hair to soothe her. Maybe she’d fall asleep in the middle of arguing with him over some small thing.

He smiled in his sleep.

He did not wake until after noon the next day.

The travelers took a short break to water the horses before resuming the journey to the abbey. Charlie thought it was best for everyone to travel together rather than send the nuns off with only a handful of guards to escort them back to the convent. Thomasin had asked to ride with her sister, but he denied her request. She asked for a horse of her own; he denied her again, instead commanding her to ride with him. “For your comfort,” he explained. The same words Henry had spoken to her on the night he stole her away. She didn’t like hearing them again. She felt like she was being imprisoned all over again.

“It’s not too late to change your mind,” Stephanie murmured to her sister as they attended to personal matters in the woods.

“I’m not changing my mind,” Thomasin replied firmly. “Besides, Henry’s brother practically has me in chains. He expects me to attempt some sort of escape.” She’d done it before, after all.

“The bride must consent to be married,” Stephanie said. “You could say no.”

Thomasin rolled her eyes.

“You could! And if these Normans are as chivalrous as you say, they won’t –”

“Enough!” Thomasin groaned. She lifted her threadbare skirts and started walking back toward the horses. “I don’t want to discuss this anymore.” The more Stephanie pressed her, the less sure she was of her choice.

She could not survive in a nunnery, she reminded herself. It was smarter to take her chances with Henry, who found her temper amusing, than to be broken like a horse.

That had always been her fear: having to change who she was down to her very core. Because if she changed, she would no longer be herself. And if she did not consent to change, to bend to another’s will, she’d certainly be broken.

“I care for Henry,” Thomasin continued. “And he loves me.” She tightened her grip on the signet ring he gave her. It gave her comfort somehow.

Stephanie huffed. “But do you love him?”

A hot bath, clean shave, good meal, and deathlike slumber revived Henry. He was dressed in clean clothes of a rich blue color that resembled his eyes. He was always charming and well-tempered, but tonight he seemed almost to glow with charisma.

Even dear Queen Matilda, William’s beloved wife, commented on his fine mood when he stopped to greet her when he entered the hall. “How fine you look, Henry,” she said with a wide smile.

“Thank you, madam,” he said, bowing. He flashed her a grin that exposed his fanglike canines. “Strong wine and a soft bed are the best remedies to anything, in my opinion.”

“The wine especially.”

Matilda was short and generously proportioned. Her husband stood some twelve inches above her, and he had to bend down to hear her whenever she whispered to him. She was friendly and kind and William doted on her – he even showed her affection in public. Theirs was a love match.

Henry waited until after supper when all the ladies and children had left the hall to relay his tale to the various knights and barons of William’s court. He’d have to tell it a dozen more times, he imagined, but most of the women, children, and servants at court could hear it from their men.

He left out the parts about being present in her chamber while she dressed and touching her, but he spared no detail when describing her appearance and repeating the things she said. Some of the noblemen present grimaced or remarked that they’d never allow a woman to disrespect them, especially a Saxon woman, but most chuckled good-naturedly.

Henry was thoroughly pleased with everyone’s reactions. He was proud of his woman. He slept well, looking forward to his conversation tomorrow with the king, blissfully unaware of what was to come.

(Sorry for the terrible ending, had to cut it off because the next chapter is long)

@amberangel112 @khadineberry @lunedelorient

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dwellordream · 3 years

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“…sex was not, in fact “treated with the utmost reverence” by “our ancestors” in the Christian West. Sex was, instead treated in a highly ambivalent way. To be sure, from a Christian theological standpoint there was an ideal way to approach sex. That was not to have it. The ideal individual would devote their life to God as a member of the clergy and simply opt out of the whole sex thing. This is because sex, and the attendant pleasure that individuals experienced as a part of it, was a direct result of the Fall of Man. Had Eve never eaten that damn apple, it would have been possible, according to St Augustine, to have sex without experiencing pleasure.

…So ideal individuals were those who were wary of any sort of sexual contact, eschewed it, and devoted their lives to worshipping God in the clergy. On the other hand, new humans had to be made, so some people were going to have to have sex. The way to control for the sinful and lustful nature of sex, according to the clergy, was for those individuals to get married and have sex specifically and only with each other whilst also attempting to procreate. Any sex that couldn’t lead to children was sodomy. Sodomy was always forbidden. Sex should always theoretically result in more children. Any other type of sex, whether extramarital or sodomitical should be confessed and repented for.

So this is all well and good and very cute of the Catholic Church to state. Trouble is, that you can’t actually dictate that this happen because it turns out people really really like sex. Like, a lot. For a start, while the clergy were meant to be acting as arbiters of sexual impurity as well as celibate examples for ordinary people, they pretty famously were not always great on that one.

Indeed before the Gregorian Reforms of the eleventh century there were plenty of clergy members who were married themselves and having plenty of sex. So much so that the moral authority of the clergy was under question to the point that the Gregorian Reforms were, you know, required. Pope Gregory VII (c. 1015-1085) thus duly made one of the most successful pushes for clerical celibacy and from that point onward clergy members were supposed to keep it in their pants.

This did not work. Clergy members kept on having sex. Sometimes they had sex with each other and wrote sweet little love notes about it. Sometimes they had sex with women living alongside them as their concubines. Sometimes they had sex with the sex workers who were considered absolutely necessary by Church authorities to the ordering of society.

…Obviously, then even clergy members were never totally celibate. Sure, they wished to be, and sometimes even strove to be, but the lascivious clergy member was common enough that it is a trope in medieval literature. There is a reason that we see nuns harvesting the penises from the tree in BNF Roman de la Rose manuscript is what I am saying.

Of course there is also all of the non-clergy members to consider. Spoiler: they were also not great at the whole only having sex within marriage and specifically in order to get pregnant thing. The thing is that although sex within marriage was allowed, it was just considered fundamentally not that sexy.

Indeed, while marriage was very much considered a religious state, so too was it seen as a specific contract between families. Marriages, especially among the upper classes were frequently conducted for business or dynastic reasons and it was entirely normal for people to end up married to individuals that were not necessarily their first choices.

It is for this reason that the entire genre of courtly love literature sprang up. You know, the entire corpus of medieval works about having sex with women who were married to someone else? Yes. That. Because sex with one’s husband was a duty that one participated in. Sex with one’s lover was about, well, love. Also hot sex. Indeed the anticipation of extramarital sex was such that it was generally agreed that women groomed themselves not for their husbands, but their lovers.

…For the average person (i.e., peasants) this was, of course, not the case. Peasants and other commoners had much more freedom about who to marry, given that they weren’t busy starting wars over dynastic spats. Even there, we know that many marriages in the Early Modern period between common people, as many as one in five were conducted when the bride was already pregnant, which we assume pretty safely holds true of the medieval period. The flip side of this is that plenty of women also found themselves pregnant with men who would not end up becoming their husbands.

Sex, then, wasn’t something that was treated as a sacred covenant by everyone. Did the Church want you to? Yes obviously they did. Could they even live up to that standard themselves? No. Jesus are you joking? Sex was had where sex was had by the people who wanted to have it. Then as now.

Of course there was pushback against, you know, all the extramarital non-procreative sex. One need only to look at the penance that was meted out for women who used dildos to see that there were those in the Church who very much considered themselves engaged in a war against sex.

Thing of it is, by the very existence of such penitentials we see that there was never a point when unacceptable sex was ever totally curtailed. People were threatened with burning in hell for their lust in church frescoes because they were having unacceptable sex.

They were given penance by their priests because they were having unacceptable sex. They were lectured from the pulpit by their clergy members because they were having unacceptable sex. The very existence of correctors shows us that they were necessary because people kept violating the rules.

To ignore the nuanced and varied history of sex in order call sex now a result of the “triumph of the merchant” is to completely ignore the fact that the traditional medieval and early modern conceptions of sex within marriage were almost entirely transactional in nature. Sex, as I have argued repeatedly was very much conceptualised as an object and a debt that one person owed another within marriage. This sex was exchanged in order to secure heirs.

Moreover the promise of access to this sex was very much the means by which marriages were negotiated. Sex was a commodity traded between families and marriage the contract by which it was secured. Indeed, by saying that sex must necessarily only take place inside of a married context for the getting of heirs the very conception becomes immediately commodified and brokered between interested parties.

Equally laughable is the idea that sex was always “revered” by our Christian ancestors, belied as it is by the utter glee that they quite obviously took in profane images. Whether we are talking about obscene pilgrim badges commemorating all the sex that you may have had while away, (or the pregnancy you were hoping to secure through pilgrimage, we aren’t sure!), the marginalia of couples going down on each other, the endless parade of dicks that pop up everywhere from dragons’ hats to standing in for manicules, it is abundantly clear that medieval people also just thought sex was pretty funny. Doesn’t matter if you were a cloistered monk decorating the pages of books for the glory of god, odds are you were gonna draw a dick in there. Cuz it’s funny.

So anyway, yes clearly the idea that there is some sort of pure holy Christian past that we are straying away from is absolute nonsense and a exists only as a construct in this sad little white supremacist’s head. Indeed, if anything I would argue that we are probably more monogamous now than medieval people were. After all, the way that we currently relate to marriage is that it is a relationship wherein we are supposed to receive everything from the other person.

Our spouses are supposed to be our hottest lovers, our best friends, our family members, and if we are religious our spiritual equals. That is … way more than medieval people expected from one relationship. We are therefore becoming increasingly monogamous, asking that one relationship do more and more work for us, and edging out older traditional relationship models which include an extended family as well as the larger community. Also maybe banging that cute guy over there on the sly. Who knows!”

- Eleanor Janega, “On treating sex with the utmost reverence”.

#medieval #sexuality #religion #history #eleanor janega #marriage

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barbasbodaciousbeard · 3 years

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Two Weddings

Summary: Sonny and Victoria eloped, but ma makes them have a ceremony a year later. Fluffy fluff.

Pairings: Sonny Carisi x Original Character

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - Four Valentine’s

July 1, 2006

“You’re the one who wanted to sneak off and get married,” Sonny teased gently, his nonna and nonno’s wedding bands in a little box tucked into the pocket of his slacks. He could see the engagement ring he’d given her three weeks before shining in the sun as they stood on the steps of their childhood church. “We’re going to be late for lunch, but they’ll live.”

“I know. I’m just so excited. I’m muting my phone. I wanna just focus on marrying you.”

“You’re sure you wanna do this, Tor? I don’t want you to feel pressured to marry me. Father O’Malley hasn’t signed it, so it’s just a licence.”

“Dominick, it was my idea to elope,” she said, their fingers laced as they entered. They’d gotten their wedding licence the day before, giddy as they went to the courthouse. There was a 24 hour waiting period before they had the officiant and witnesses sign it. They went to visit Father O’Malley, the priest at the church they’d attended together as long as they could remember, and he understood why they were eloping. While moving in together was a part of their goal, the more they’d talked about it, the more they realized it would be nice to get married without having to balance the chaos of the Carisis. Mia was a kid, Teresa was tired from chasing Mia, Gina was away for school, and Bella had also just graduated. They’d be the second wedding and the only son getting married. Sonny wanted to focus on what they were promising each other.

They seemed nonchalant towards marriage, but they only did because they’d always treated their relationship like a marriage. Each of them made decisions with the other in mind, with the kids and life they wanted one day at the forefront. She’d been worried when he went away to school, but her worries were quashed when he went to a party for the first time without her, calling her at one in the morning from the party to tell her how much better it would be with her. She’d known then they’d get married. Now he was in black slacks and a white button down with his sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows and his hair gelled back. When he snuck glances at her in her white sundress, he would catch her sneaking glances at him, and they’d both turn red.

“Our newlyweds-to-be are here,” Sister Bernadette called, and soon enough Father O’Malley joined the trio at the altar with another nun to be the second witness. He was also wise, the nun setting up the tripod and video camera usually reserved for the church kids’ plays. We don’t want Gianna Carisi coming after us. Video may placate her. The marriage certificate and Victoria’s purse in a pew, Father O’Malley began. Both of them knew the format well, clutching each other’s hands.

"Dominick and Victoria, have you come here to enter into marriage without coercion, freely and wholeheartedly?"

“I have,” they said in unison, and she smiled as Sonny gave her hands a gentle squeeze, grin widening.

"Are you prepared, as you follow the path of marriage, to love and honor each other for as long as you both shall live?"

“We are.”

“Are you prepared to accept children lovingly from God and to bring them up according to the law of Christ and his Church?"

“We are.” Sonny was already crying, and Victoria blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. That’d get to him more. He was the crier, not her.

“Well, now it is time for the vows. Repeat after me-”

“Respectfully, we got this father,” Sonny said, and Victoria did cry when she heard his voice. It was thick with emotion, and the way he stared at her with a broad smile and watery eyes made her feel invincible.

“Well, take it away, Dominick,” Father O’Malley chuckled softly, knowing they’d memorized them together. He could almost picture them saying them as they sat together studying. Sonny had already updated him on how excited they were each of the Sundays between scheduling their wedding certificate and today, speaking in hushed whispers away from his mother. Meanwhile, Victoria had been calling to ask questions, desperate to have everything in order.

"I, Dominick Carisi, take you, Victoria O’Toole, to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life."

"I, Victoria O’Toole, take you, Dominick Carisi, to be my husband. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life."

“May the Lord in his kindness strengthen the consent you have declared before the Church and graciously bring to fulfillment his blessings within you. What God has joined, let no one put asunder.” Father O’Malley had known he’d be marrying these two soon, but he hadn’t expected it to be so soon. Both of them had said their vows with shaky voices and broad smiles, and it was amazing to see the children he’d known so long ago marrying now and taking it seriously despite their age. “May the Lord bless these rings, which you will give to each other as the sign of your love and fidelity.”

Sister Bernadette handed them each a band, smiling softly. Neither of them looked away from the other, and Sonny was almost bouncing on the balls of his feet when he spoke again.

"Victoria, receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit." Sonny’s hand shook as he slid the ring on his hand, and a soft laugh escaped him as he looked back up at her. She wiped her eyes carefully, her hands more steady.

"Dominick, receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” Suddenly, Sonny was almost in motion, and Father O’Malley was tempted to wait to let him kiss his bride. Victoria had already pulled him closer, smiling wide enough her eyes were almost shut. It was the first time he’d seen her rival her new husband’s smile.

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You can kiss her now, Dominick.” In a flash, his arms were around Victoria's waist as her hands went to his cheeks. He kissed her sweetly before pecking her lips again and again. Both of them were giddy, laughing, and Sister Bernadette cut off the camera. She promised to email them the video file by the end of the day, and Sonny couldn’t bring himself to remove his arms from Victoria's waist as his chin rested on her shoulder.

“Thank you, father,” Victoria grinned. “I’m sure Ma will be planning a ceremony or reception or something soon. And I wanna go ahead and apologize for the fact she’ll yell at you.”

“I can take it,” Father O’Malley assured her. “You’d have gotten married anyway. And it was nice to see you two get married. And you got to focus on the marriage, not Gianna chasing you around.”

“We gotta get to lunch with them. Thank you father.”

“Congratulations, you two. I’ll see you for mass tomorrow.”

They walked outside, and Sonny was wrapping his arms around her tightly and spinning her as they both giggled. They’d both always known it would happen, and now they were married. He’d found an apartment, and they’d moved him in the week before. She’d packed her room at her mom’s house, and they’d move her in the next day. It was almost surreal because it almost felt like the unspoken was just official now.

“We’re married,” he said, voice managing to be both ecstatic and reverent as he pressed his forehead to hers.

“We are,” she beamed, her hands resting on his sides. “It’s perfect.”

“You’re perfect, Victoria Carisi.”

“That sounds so good, Dom. I can’t wait to go change my name when the marriage certificate comes in.”

“I’ll come with you when you go to the DMV.”

“Ready to go tell Ma?”

“I’m ready to tell everyone.”

The drive was quiet, both of them just holding the other’s hand. Victoria watched him drive with a gentle smile, squeezing his fingers periodically as their neighborhood flew by. Was Ma going to guilt them? Of course. But she’d given him Nonna and Nonno’s rings. She knew as well as Father O’Malley and Sister Bernadette the inevitability of the marriage. The girls would all be sad there wasn’t a wedding and reception happening without Gianna’s pressure, but his dad would be relieved. Once he’d parked, he shot her a crooked grin.

“Ready, Mrs. Carisi?”

“Ready, Mr. Carisi.”

He held her hand in his, smiling softly as he felt the cool metal of his own ring pressed into his skin. It was reassuring like he hadn’t expected. Teresa and Mia opened the door, and the pair made their way through the Carisi girls, boyfriends, and kids before finding Ma in the kitchen. Bella followed them, and it didn’t take long for Victoria to realize she’d been the one to notice the rings first. The youngest Carisi daughter crossed her arms and leaned against the kitchen wall as her Ma greeted her brother and Victoria.

“Sonny, what’s that on Tori’s hand?” she asked innocently. “The left hand. You have something on yours too.”

Ma’s eyes flashed to Victoria’s hand, and he watched as she registered a potential engagement but then quickly saw his hand and started to process what had actually happened. He wasn’t sure if she was angry, hurt, happy, or a combination of the three.

“If I don’t get to plan a ceremony, I’ll kill you both.”

“Father O’Malley did the ceremony. He filmed it for you,” Victoria said softly, hanging on Sonny’s arm. “But we can plan a reception.”

“Father O’Malley? So you had your church wedding without us?”

“Ma, we can renew our vows or something.”

“You’re damn right you’ll renew your vows.”

“So you’re going to be mad at Victoria and me instead of happy for us?”

“Of course I’m happy for you,” she said softly, gripping his arms and looking up at him with a gentle smile. “My cielo is married to our stellina. I expected the engagement when she turned eighteen. You’re just my babies, so you’ll be having a wedding later.”

“We love you,” Victoria smiled, giggling when Gianna pulled her and Sonny into a tight hug. She pressed kisses to the top of each of their heads, beaming.

“And I love you both. It’s about time stellina is a Carisi.”

“She’s been a Carisi forever, ma.”

“She’s got the name now.”

“I know,” Sonny grinned. “Victoria Carisi is like the best name I ever heard.”

“When will you have the video?”

“Sister Bernadette said by tonight.”

“You email it to me. And you’ll check before you leave. If you get it while you’re here, we’re all watching, cielo.”

July 1, 2007

“He’s going to cry when he sees you, stellina,” Gianna smiled, pressing a maternal kiss to the top of her head. Her own mother was here, but she had settled in with Teresa and Gina for drinks. Gianna and Bella were helping with the small buttons along the back of the dress. It was strapless with a sweetheart neck, but there was sheer material with lace up to her collar bone and forming sleeves down each arm. She was rocking on the balls of her feet wanting to go to Sonny’s side.

“He always cries,” Bella teased. “But this time it’ll be because his wife is so pretty.”

“Thanks,” she smiled, hands smoothing the satin of the dress’s skirt. “It’s kind of nice having a ceremony for our anniversary. Makes it more like a celebration.”

“Stellina’s mom and I need to go sit. This our beautiful bride.”

“I’ll take care of her from here.”

The last time they’d been in this church for a Carisi family member’s wedding ceremony, it was Teresa and her husband’s. Sonny and Victoria had been middle schoolers, and Teresa had put them in the bridal party. It was almost surreal to know she’d be walking down the aisle alone. Her father wasn’t there to give her away, and it would feel strange to have a woman she rarely saw after she turned sixteen give her away. It had been days before Irene had even known her daughter was married. Bella and Tommy would be the last to walk, and Victoria stood behind them, fiddling with the ribbon of her bouquet. She knew he would think she was beautiful, knew she’d see his dimples and the glimmer in his eyes as he teared up, but some part of her was still nervous. They’d been on their own now for a year, but this almost felt like dress up, them pretending to be adults. Maybe life always would. People would be looking at them too. Center of attention wasn’t her strong suit. They had, however, learned a dance for the first dance, sneaking off to lessons after class and work.

Suddenly, Bella and Tommy were gone, and Victoria was beaming through the nerves as she waited for the bridal march. When it started, she stepped out, her eyes flying to Sonny when she made her way down the aisle. He was as happy as he’d looked when they eloped, and the suit looked perfect. He looked so handsome and sweet and kind, and the reality hit that he really was her husband. Maybe Ma had been right about a wedding. He had lit up, crying as everyone had predicted. She wasn��t the one to cry, but she quickly realized she was now. Sonny had worried his knees would buckle when he first saw her, and they nearly did. More than anything, he felt giddy as he watched her. She was beautiful everyday, but now, walking down the aisle to renew the promises they’d made to each other a year before? He wanted to sear the image into his memory. Some caveman part of his brain liked having an audience for their vows, as much so he could show off his wife as so they could celebrate with friends and family. Since they were already married, they decided to write their own vows when the time came.

“Victoria, I think I shoulda known I was going to marry you when you used to dare me to kiss ya when we were kids and then run off so I’d chase you. It kind of started this thing where I’ll chase you anywhere you want to go, including eloping the first summer we can so that Ma has to plan a wedding for two people who’ve already been married a year. I get to kiss you anytime I want now, though. That part is way better,” he started, his voice light, before he got more serious, hands clutching hers. “ I swear it’s only going to be you. The first and only woman I’ll ever want. No matter what happens, I promise to make you laugh, hold you when you cry, and only be scared of you when you’re driving. The best thing that ever happened is getting to build our life together. Being your husband has been an honor, and I promise to stick with you through the good and the bad.”

“Dominick, I remember when we were kids, I was in school and instead of saying the sky was blue, I said the sky was Sonny’s eyes colored. That’s probably when I should’ve stopped pretending you had cooties because it was probably a sign you were always going to be my favorite person ever,” she said, her voice not as strong as his was. He was used to getting emotional; she wasn’t. “When we were in New Orleans, I realized that the reason I hated every girl you went to a school dance with was because you were supposed to be my date, and that you were supposed to be my date because I wanted you to kiss me. I promise that I’m always going to be there for you, no matter what happens, good, bad, and in between. I’ll always make you cannoli when you’re stressed and celebrate when you’re doing well and be there however you need me when you’re sad. We’ve got forever ahead of us. I promise you won’t be able to get rid of me. You’re it for me.”

When he could, Sonny nearly flung himself at Victoria, arms around her waist pulling her close as he leaned in and kissed her deeply. He flung there clasped hands up with a crooked smile as they made their way down the aisle, meeting his mother and the photographer outside the church doors. They started taking photos, and Victoria wrapped her arm around Sonny, one hand resting on his chest.

“Hi Mrs. Carisi,” he hummed, hand resting on hers.

“It still sounds really good,” she smiled, kissing him softly. “A few more pictures, then we go dance and eat.”

“You ready for our number?”

“Oh hell yeah I am. You ready?”

“Do I got two left feet? You bet. Am I excited to dance with my wife to the song we been singin’ to each other since we were kids? Oh yeah.” He kissed her temple, spinning her as he hummed “You’re my Best Friend” by Queen, and a squeal escaped her.

“Save it for the dance floor.”

“Anything you say, doll.”

“I love you, Dom.”

“And I love you, Tor.”

@cycat4077

#sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi x oc #law and order #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #writing

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ss9slb · 3 years

Photo

Princes of the Undead

Part 3 Chapter 17 part b

----/---

The flagstones were cold under her knees, but Agatha didn’t flinch; being dead had to have some advantages. Regardless of her undead state, Agatha’s muscle memory was still there even after all these years, in fact there were moments when the last 125 years almost seemed like a fever dream. Her life as a vampire, Dracula, the modern world she had become a part of did not encroach on the tranquillity of the nunnery. The liturgy of the Latin, the itch of the habit against her flesh, skin which had grown spoilt from the fine fabrics her lover, no her fiancé, had seen her clothed in.

All around her heads were bowed in her earnest prayer, her small company of sisters, and yet Agatha’s own pleas were addressed to a far different source. It made her feel like a fraud, Agatha hadn’t really prayed during the services in months, she no longer really believed in an almighty lord. Yet she didn’t feel guilt about not praying to their god, maybe a little about misleading the kind sisters, instead Agatha used this time to clear her mind and concentrate on that link in her mind that tied her to Dracula. Reaching their connection was like sinking into a warm embrace, not strong enough for words or images, but feelings flowed easily, Dracula’s felt especially strong, but Agatha wasn’t certain he was strong enough to pick up on her feelings over such a distance.

Over the last few months, Agatha had felt a wide range of feelings from her intended…Anger, lots of anger and impatience, but also a sense of excitement, almost anticipation, he was enjoying himself; if it were not for the all-pervading feeling of loneliness Agatha might have thought Dracula was barely missed her at all. Not that her own time hadn’t been full of their own challenges. On the first days following washing up on that Corsican beach Agatha had toyed with the idea of heading back to London. Yet Mycroft’s warning and her own circumstances had encouraged her play it safe, to stick with the hiding and waiting approach. So instead she had headed in the opposite direction, to a home of a different sort; and although hiding out in Dracula’s castle had a certain appeal, Agatha knew it was also foolhardy, so she settled for the little town convent and hid herself in plain sight.

Yet Agatha couldn’t pretend part of her wasn’t getting a little impatient.

It had been four months to the day since that fateful night, surely whatever was keeping Dracula away and so tense must be over by now? Perhaps it was wishful thinking on her part, but it almost felt like their bond was strengthening, almost like Dracula was drawing ever closer, and Agatha had to keep her hope under strict regulation. But despite her best attempts Agatha couldn’t ignore the growing certainty that Dracula was coming to find her, finally, that he would find her soon…and not just her.

Agatha had to resist the urge to touch her stomach as she felt the delicate little fluttering within her, a fluttering that grew stronger by the day. The first time she had felt it Agatha hadn’t believed it; it wasn’t a sensation she had ever expected to feel, not after she had taken her vows and certainly not after she had died. In fact, it had taken at least three times before she had come to accept the truth, that wasn’t simply imagining it, that she was carrying Dracula’s child. Their child. If it wasn’t the height of blasphemy to say so in a consecrated place, Agatha would have considered it a miracle.

“Sister Agatha…”

Blinking in surprise Agatha looked up realising the in her own musings she had missed the end of services and that her sisters had left her behind…well most of them had, Mother Superior had remained behind. Standing as mark of respect Agatha was surprised when the other nun merely waved her to take a seat in the pew, before herself sinking to sit down beside her.

“This is not the first time I have found you lost in prayer my child; your devotion is a credit to you.”

Agatha was relieved vampires couldn’t blush, for the proof of such undeserved praise would historically have been written across her cheeks. Instead she bowed her head, doing her best to avoid the scrutinising gaze of the nun that had been kind enough to take pity on her; taking her in when Agatha had turned up on her doorstep pleading for a place to hide. That she had done so without asking any awkward questions really had been a miracle, but it was not one that Agatha had expected to need for so long.

“However, devotion alone…” Mother Superior added and now it was her turn to blush, a blush that sent a pang of hunger rushing through Agatha. She needed to feed soon, and each time it took more and more to sate her hunger, the occasional thefts of blood from the local hospital were no longer enough…another development to blame on her little hitch hiker.

“…My child when you arrived here asking for sanctuary I didn’t ask questions about why, I just assumed you had regretted your choice to leave the sanctuary of the church, and I was happy to accept you into our little sisterhood.” The elderly nun trailed off, suddenly bashful for such a normally forthright woman.

“Are you asking me to leave Mother?” Agatha prompted her gently, reaching out to lightly cover the nun’s hand, regretting the impulse slightly when she could now feel the rush of a thready pulse beneath the wrinkled exterior.

“Yes, I’m afraid I am… not immediately of course, I wouldn’t simply cast you aside, I just feel that for a woman in your condition…” she paused, knowing eyes glancing down to Agatha’s stomach, and lingering there until her point was made… “well there are more appropriate places than a convent.”

“My condition.” Agatha began, before adding honestly. “I didn’t think it was so noticeable.”

“Perhaps not to my sisters, many have poor enough eyesight, but I used to be a midwife before I joined the sisterhood. Besides you are so tall, and this is your first is it now? So, it is not as obvious as it might be, but to a trained eye the signs were obvious.” Mother Superior added with a hint of a smile. “Your lover is the…”

“Father, yes he is.” Agatha finished for her. “And we are to be married, just as soon as he can come and find me, this child is very much wanted by both of us.”

“And yet you have hidden yourself away here?”

“It’s…it’s complicated.” That was the understatement of the century, and yet somehow Agatha managed to say it with a straight face.

“My dear, I hate to introduce an element of doubt but how can you be so certain? He would hardly be the first man to run away from his responsibilities, and that you have been left to fend for yourself and at such a time…”

“Mother forgive me you don’t know him. You don’t understand just what we have gone through together, I know Vlad would never ever just give up on me. He is coming, I guarantee within the month I will no longer be imposing on you…”

“Personally, I would say by the end of the day.” A familiar cocksure voice called out from down the aisle, interrupting Agatha’s impassioned defence and causing both nuns to whirl around in the pew.

Leaning against a stone pillar Dracula took in his first sight of Agatha in months. It was like being flung back in time, complete with habit and that piercing stare of hers. Only knowing her as intimately as he did, allowed Dracula to discern the different flickers of emotion, surprise, relief, even joy, before she settled back into her default expression of looking irritated with him…oh how he had missed that glare.

“Oh, now this takes me back…Sister Agatha it is such a delight to renew our acquaintance.” Dracula was amused beyond anything to see Agatha once again dressed as a nun, a suggestive grin spreading across his lips as he imagined disrobing her from such an outfit, or perhaps insisting she kept it on?

“Well if you didn’t wait four months there wouldn’t be a need to renew anything.” Agatha huffed, getting to her feet but refusing to be the one who went to him, he had kept her waiting and not the other way around. “What on earth could have been so pressing?”

“Oh, Sister many many things, but as of right now I cannot think of one that was worth the price. Come here beloved and I will show just how much I regret the delay.” Dracula retorted dragging his gaze up and down, licking his top lip as he practically salivated over his bride all dressed up and ready for him to ravish.

“Young man this is a house of god, we will have none of that behaviour here.” Mother Superior muttered, as there was no denying which gutter, even for a nun, just where their new arrival’s mind was.

“Oh, my good lady I very rarely behave myself.” Dracula added with a smile that could usually crack even the oldest and sternest facades.

“Yes, I can well believe it young man, men that look like you do very rarely have to.” Mother Superior added saucily, much to Agatha’s astonishment and Dracula’s delight. Dracula was so amused at being winked at by an elderly nun who is several centuries his junior, he was barely bothered by her interruption of their reunion and delay in his ravishment plans…his castle was relatively close and the things he wanted to do to Agatha required time and privacy.

Agatha was less than impressed by his retort, and lack of any sort of explanation or apology. Still she held her tongue until Mother Superior left them alone together, but if Dracula just thought he could walk in here and after four months….

“Ah so I’m still in the doghouse then.” Dracula took Agatha’s crossed arms and raised eyebrow as a challenge, winking back at the Mother Superior as she left, he stepped closer with the swagger of the devil.

“Would it help if I said I was very very sorry?”

“Hmmph…”

“Would it help if I got down on my knees?”

Dracula paused, dropping all too dramatically to his knees, his hands raised to the vaulted roof in supplication, yet he watched Agatha’s reaction closely, taking her barely contained roll of the eyes to mean that no it wouldn’t. Shuffling forward rather awkwardly on his knees, Dracula tried not to think about how these flagstones would be ruining his expensive Italian silk suit trousers.

“If I confessed all my sins and asked for absolution?”

Snorting Agatha shook her head, unable to contain a wry smirk as she retorted. “No one has that sort of time to waste.”

Returning Agatha’s smirk with a growing smile of his own, Dracula caught and held her gaze. “If I shouted that I love you and that I was a fool not to come sooner? For will, I will from this very belfry if…”

“Oh, get up you silly fool, no one in this town deserves to have their sleep disturbed by you and your silly shouting.” Agatha’s patience for his silliness and her own resolve to keep him at arm’s length finally at an end.

Staggering to his feet as ordered, Dracula’s shit eating grin turned soft as he closed the remaining paces between them. “Hello beloved, I have missed you.”, he said staring down to Agatha’s face, taking in the minute changes in her features, ones that only he would notice.

“You look pale, you haven’t been eating enough.” Dracula concluded, catching Agatha’s chin between his fingers. “Were you that worried I wouldn’t be coming for you?”

“Honestly your ego.” Agatha swiped his hand away from her chin but retained her grip on his fingers, part of her almost afraid he would vanish like some terrible dream. “Of course, I knew you would come; I’m just a little cross it seemed to take you so long.”

“I had good reason; I couldn’t risk bringing you back before I was certain it was safe.” Here Dracula paused, his gaze lingering on their surroundings. “And besides you seem to have found somewhere safe to hide away.”

“Yes…I…did.” Agatha emphasised every word with a jab to his chest, the unspoken no thanks to you, hitting home far deeper than any stake.

“I wanted to come every day, Agatha you have to believe that. Every day apart was agony for me.”

Part of her wanted to keep him dangling longer, to torment him the way not knowing had tormented her over the last few months. Yet the majority of Agatha now wanted to forget the past, to step into the love that was so openly on display. Slipping her hands up around his neck, Agatha allowed her relief to show on her face, blinking back the tears that threatened to break free.

“We forgive you.”

Smiling back Dracula leant forward, pressing first a chaste kiss to her upturned mouth, savouring the way Agatha smiled into it, then another light teasing kiss…before the niggle of a question irritated him enough to stop.

“We as in the royal we, or do you now speak on behalf of your almighty god my Darling?”

This time Agatha didn’t even try to contain her knowing grin from splitting her face, her eyes alight with the mirth of having a secret.

“I might advise you that hubris rarely ends well.” Dracula teased as Agatha’s mischievous reaction continued to pique his interest.

“Oh well I think I am empowered to speak on this entity’s behalf.” Agatha bantered back, savouring Vlad’s look of complete confusion. “We both love you very much you see…” She paused, sliding her hand down the firm plains of his chest, capturing his hand and bringing it to rest over the slight curve of her abdomen.

---/---

#dragatha #bbc dracula #dracula netflix #sister agatha #dracula fanfic

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shady-knight · 4 years

Text

Thirst

A/N: If you know me in real life, please don't read this. I'm serious. I'd die of embarrasment🤣

I wrote this because I recently rewatched the first episode and confirmed again that Claes literally slays me with his performance. (Any dialogue that you recognize is directly taken from the episode, I won’t take any credit for that, of course.)

Fandom: Dracula (2020)

Pairing: Dracula x Reader

Warning: None, maybe UST (you don't get to bone the vamp-man)

Summary: You're Mina's sister and present when Dracula visits the convent. You think he's pretty hot.

When you had agreed to travel with your sister Mina to find her fiancee Jonathan, you hadn't ever in your life thought that you'd find yourself in a convent in Budapest, standing behind an iron gate at Sister Agatha's side and watching a wolf whimper as it fell to its side.

You were fearful, almost trembling when its flank tore apart and pale, bloodied hands emerged, followed by an equally pale (and naked) body. As the man (beast) wiped some slimy substance from his face and observed you, you were struck with the strangest mixture of dread and anticipation. "I don't know about you girls", he began, voice deep and alluringly accented as he stroked the wolf's belly, "but I do love a bit of fur." Bloody filth was smeared all over the man's skin, his chest absolutely covered, hair wet and dishevelled as he stood up, revealing the long panes of his nude limbs.

He stretched his arms wide, unashamed of his lack of clothing. "Suffer onto me." The dark eyes beneath heavy brows spoke of sin, of forbidden wants and delirious hunger. Then he laughed as he stepped toward the iron gate, revealing his razor-sharp, inhuman teeth.

You couldn't help but watch, spellbound, as Agatha taunted the beast of a man, calling the other Sisters, her eyes seemingly never straying below his face. The Count (Dracula, your mind whispered) struck his head through the gaps in the gate, watching you like he was the prisoner, not you.

You found it hard to do the same thing as Agatha, your own eyes betraying you and lingering on his naked torso and threatening to go even lower. Your cheeks burned when his (Dracula's) gaze swept over you and your insides burned even hotter when he grinned, again showing off his oh-so-sharp teeth. You tried not to flinch when he called out to the group, and preferred to hide in the corner, not meeting anyone gaze.

This man... this vampire, he ignited something buried deep underneath what you had been taught was good and proper. His careless show of power left you breathless and wanting to see more. Experience more of him. His might. Briefly, you wondered if this was part of his power, too. To make you want it. Well, if it it was, it was certainly working. You were vaguely revolted by how easily you fell for his vampiric charm - he hadn't even spoken a direct word to you and already you were more attracted to him than any man from back home who had asked for your hand.

There was just a certain something about him, beyond even being a vampire. It surely hadn't altered his face - and yet, you couldn't help but find him beautiful in his dark exoticism. Like a fallen angel, Lucifer personified.

When Sister Agatha opened the gate and forbid him from entering, you felt like fainting. How could she be so calm? So utterly unaffected? "I could tear you apart." You knew that his words weren't specifically geared toward you, but it didn't stop you from shivering. What was wrong with you? Why were you...not scared witless? Oh, you were nervous and afraid of dying but...you were also attracted to this...this monstrosity.

"A beast can follow rules. I don't expect it to understand them." When the vampire snarled, reaching out as if to strangle Agatha, you realised that you should better listen to the actual conversation than to contemplate why exactly you found yourself drawn to the Count Dracula. "I am more than a beast.", he countered, tilting his head a bit.

Your eyes trailed over his strong neck, down his shoulders and over his broad hairy chest. Belatedly, you realised that you'd never seen a man's naked chest before. "Do you want me to show you?", he answered when Agatha questioned him. "Of course. I'm waiting.", she told him and you marvelled again at her courage. Or was it stupidity? You couldn't decide. Dracula beckoned her forward until she was almost touching him. For a strange moment, you felt almost jealous of her, of the attention he was giving her. Mentally, you wanted to slap yourself to snap out of your sudden obssession with this...creature.

"Look at them.", he ordered softly. You could see that she was holding his gaze, not wavering. "Look at your sisters." Agatha did not turn and look as she replied. "Armed and ready." You could see that the stakes in the nuns' hands were trembling.

"You're not looking.", he countered, barely even blinking, their noses only a fist-wide apart. "I don't need to.", she shot back. He raised a clawed finger. "One of them. That's all I need. If just one of your pretty little army beckons me in, I will tear your world to pieces", the Count talked as one talks about the weather, as if it were inconsequential, "and I will drink my fill." You didn't want to imagine the carnage that he could probably unleash.

"Why would they invite you in? What do you have to offer?" You felt shame pool in your belly. It seemed that Sister Agatha could really not feel his demonic allure like you did. It made you feel dirty and weak. "Eternal life.", Dracula replied, so quietly that you wondered that you didn't have to strain to hear him. But his voice just seemed to fill the space effortlessly. "Well, they have that already.", the nun explained, then turned and began to dismiss him with a quick "Thanks" over her shoulder. You bit your lip, thinking that she was forgetting about you a bit with her answer. Maybe on purpose, maybe not.You weren't a nun.

"Starting tonight, because the first one to invite me in stays at my side.", the Count bellowed for everyone to hear, "The others, I will tear apart, and, ladies", he laughed, a sinister smile exposing his fangs, "I will take my time.", a pause, "One should never rush a nun." Blood rushed through your ears and you felt heady, a conflict you had never thought to know igniting in your veins. You couldn't hear what he was saying as he continued, your head spinning. But he had only said that one would live. If you let him in, he would kill Mina and take Jonathan. (What had he called him? 'His bride'? What a strange concept.) You couldn't let that happen to your sister.

Then Agatha cut open her palm with a knife and Dracula rushed toward her as far as he could, feral bloodlust colouring his eyes as he bared his teeth, growling like an animal being denied its rightful meal. She flicked her dripping blood over the convent's treshhold. "Oh, go on, help yourself. There's a dog comes past here most days. We often give it scraps." She did it again, watching as Dracula retreated into a corner, growling deep in his chest but trying to control himself.

"Go on. You've come so far.", she ventured mockingly, "I'm sure you could do with a drink." You breathed in sharply as the woman held out her palm, letting blood drip onto his face as he opened his mouth like a man dying of thirst, tongue darting out to catch the ruby red liquid before she snatched it away again. You wondered how Agatha could stand this - if it were you, you would never been able to stand it - the sheer eroticism of the scene.

"See I'm not certain I see the appeal of blood.", she told him, sucking a drop of her own blood from her finger. He snarled as she gestured at him with her boody hand, letting droplets of the ruby liquid stain his skin. "Each to his own, I suppose."

"Do you think provoking me is clever?", he asked her, breathless, nearly moaning. From your distance it was hard to tell but you could swear that his eyes were now a deep crimson. "Yes, I do."

You saw Dracula's throat work as he swallowed heavily. The way his breath passed his lips sounded almost obscene - like he had been doing an altogether different streinous activity. One that, ironically, would also require the same state of undress. "I want to learn about you. I want to see the limit of your capability." You admired Sister Agatha for her spirit. Truly, she was a very forward thinking, intelligent and confident woman. Not like you. "It's the point of this experiment.", you breathed in harshly, tightening your hand into a fist. She was almost treating this like it wasn't life-threatening for everyone involved. Like there wasn'ta liiteral demon at your doorstep.

When she offered the bloody knife to him, your heart stopped before speeding up again. The sound of his quiet gasps, the sight of his tongue licking along the metal - it made your abdomen clench involuntarily.

Then Agatha threw the knife completely to Dracula and turned away from him, returning to her spot among the other nuns. "Here, boy.", she added, as if talking to a pet. Dracula had crouched down to retrieve the blade and was treating it like he had been handed a delicacy.

"This is contemptible. You are without shame.", the Mother Superior spoke, watching him kneel over the knife with disgust in her eyes. "Be careful what you say to me.", Dracula threatened, a bit muffled while speaking around the blade in his mouth. His lips shined in the warm light of the fire and you found yourself moistening your own, aware of the saliva suddenly pooling beneath your tongue.

"Don't speak with your mouth full.", Sister Agatha chastined in true nun fashion. "She has earned the right to express her contempt, you know? We all have." Yes, you thought quietly, contempt for myself. For being so weak. She continued speaking about the nuns behind her, still conveniently ignoring your presence.

"That is why you can't bear the sight of this", she kneeled down, showing him her wooden cross, "it speaks of a holy virtue you do not possess. It is goodness incarnate." The Count only chuckled, his mouth curving upward. "For a moment there, I thought you were clever. But no. No, that's not why I fear the cross. Goodness has got nothing to do with it." In that moment, his eyes met yours for a second and you froze, like a deer about to be shot. He noticed your reaction and let his eyes linger for a bit longer before looking at Sister Agatha again. You didn't follow her next words, too confused by your raging emotions.

After Dracula revealed his ability to learn from tasting one's blood, Agatha turned to leave with the rest of the sisters. They were stalled by his snarls for a moment but Agatha soldiered on, not granting him a verbal reaction as she led the others back inside after carefully closing the gate again. (That a vampire couldn't enter didn't mean that no one else could, and it was at night.)

You hesitated, watching the vampire lick any excess blood off of his fingers, his tongue moving languidly. If sin had a feeling, it'd be the emotions you felt while looking at him in that moment.

"And what do we have here?", he suddenly asked, having finally noticed that you hadn't left with the rest after breaking out of his blood-induced reverie. "A lost lamb?" His voice was deep and throaty and, adressing you, it sounded downright heavenly in your ears. You blushed, stepping up to to the gate as if an invisible force compelled you.

"Did you make Jonathan one of your kind?", you quickly asked, wanting to deflect from your helpless desire for the vampire. He stared at you strangely for a moment, as if trying to remember something. "Let me guess...you're (Y/n), right? The sister of Jonathan's little fiancee." You didn't question how he knew. It'd be pointless, and not really important, besides. Maybe he'd 'read' it in Jonathan's blood.

He gave you a proper once over, his eyes no longer red. "And what a pretty thing you are. Downright delectable." By now, your face must be completely aflame. You certainly felt the blood pounding up to the tips of your ears. It embarrassed you further because you knew that he had to know, too. A vampire like him was bound to have superior senses. Sister Agatha had said that breaking iron would be like breaking matchsticks to him. It terrified and fascinated you at the same time. With vague discomfort, you wondered just how well-developed his sense of smell was in comparison. Could he? Surely not. You hoped not. "But to answer your question, yes, I did."

"Can it be reversed?"

"Not to my knowledge. Not that I've ever tried. When I don't need a vampire anymore, I have other ways of neutralizing them, you understand?" Absentmindedly, you nodded, your heart sinking. If Dracula didn't know of a way, how were you, mere humans, supposed to come up with something?

"But that question is not really the only reason you are here, isn't it, little bunny?"

"Bunny?", you echoed.

"Your heart beats as fast as a bunny's. But not from fear, I gather.", he purred, voice dipping lower. You again became very aware of his nudity, even if he was still covered in that disgusting mess. He stepped as close to you as he could, your eyes level with his chest, making you have to crane your neck to look at his face. A strand of black hair had fallen onto his forehead and you had the strangest urge to sweep it back, to touch him, see if his skin was as cold as you imagined it was. (You ignored the voice that said you just wanted to know if it'd feel as good as you thought it would.)

"I could hear your little heart beating away when I spoke to the woman", he briefly closed his eyes, "Agatha. The others were terrified - but not you." He breathed in deeply, shoulders raising slightly, eyes drooping half-closed again. "You were aroused.", the word dragged on filthily in his low, throaty tone. "You saw me and you wanted. Isn't that right? It's not shameful to admit it." A grin spread across his face, his fangs flashing slightly. "You wouldn't be the first. Even though", he continued, tilting his head a bit, "it's not often that I invoke such a strong reaction in someone. Agatha, over there, certainly seemed all but immune to my charms."

You swallowed harshly, shame simmering in your belly, along with need. "I'll tell you what, if you invite me in, you can have me. I'll give you my undivided attentions. I'll make you feel things you've never felt before. I can take you to heights of pleasure nobody else can. And all you have to do is", his voice was intoxicating, you almost felt drunk off of him. "invite me in." You wanted to, so badly. You wanted to take him in, consume him, be consumed by him. Let each other be devoured by desire. Your blood sang for him. You wanted to give in to him. He knew that you were crumbling when you leaned closer, your head resting against the iron bars. He leaned down and for a wild moment you wondered if he'd kiss you, but he aimed to the side, his broad tongue licking a hot trail upwards, over your right cheek, tasting your skin. He paused when he reached your ear. "Just say the words.", he whispered seductively. "I will do the rest."

You whimpered, goosebumps raising on your skin. "This isn't fair.", you murmured, desperation making your voice small. "Why are you so beautiful? Shouldn't a monster like you be revolting?"

You couldn't see it, but you heard Dracula inhale quickly and let out a sound that seemed like a groan. "You think I'm beautiful?", he questioned hoarsely. "My, my, what a suprise you turn out to be."

"W-what do you mean? Isn't that normal? Thinking that you look", you cringed slightly, not knowing how to phrase your unrational desire, "pleasing?" He withdrew from you and drew back to his full height, shaking his head as he did so. "While my, ah, vampiric charm draws most people in, they still tend to find me...well you said it yourself, unexplainably revolting. It's their base instincts telling them that I am their predator." His eyes held yours, appearing deep and unreadable. "Which you seem to lack. Tell me, is there no part of you that is repulsed by me?"

"N-no.", you admitted truthfully, heat gathering in your face anew. "Quite the opposite. I don't... I don't understand myself. I... I feel-... you compel me like I am a moth and you a flame." Dracula's lips morphed into a toothy smile, his dark eyes glittering. "Very curious. I do believe that I will enjoy any time I spend with you, my dear."

The black-haired vampire winked at you, smirking infuriatingly attractively and turned on his heel, quickly striding away, into the darkness. Your eyes trailed over his broad back, lingering on his perfectly formed ass as he disappeared from your view. You wanted to curse and rage. Why were you so bewitched?

~~~

After your meeting with the Count you went straight to bed, not caring about anything else. You didn't want to think about him - you just wanted to rest after an exhausting day. Mina would wake you up if something happened.

Waking to screams and growls echoing through the hall, you immediately sat up on your bed, a shiver running down your spine. A strange chill settled in your bones as you didn't dare move an inch from your bed, clutching the white sheets to your body and listening to the horrifying sounds until they finally died down. You didn't want to think about what it meant.

You strained your ears for something, anything else and almost jumped from fright when heavy footsteps resounded through the halls, growing ever louder. They were undoubtedly heading in your direction and, additionally, coming from the sort of shoes that you knew no Sister wore.

The footsteps stopped in front of door. You didn't dare breathe, shoulders shaking from tension and when you heard the first creak of the hinges of the door, you closed your eyes, not wanting to look evil in the eye, so to speak.

"Darling", he said and his voice was close like he was standing directly above you, "don't you want to see me?" Cool hands trailed over your shoulders and down your arms, making you flinch slightly, his fingers dancing over your skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. Your breath hitched and you held yourself as still as you could. "After all, I stayed just for you. I could already be on a ship to England, but here I am, paying you a visit." His hands grasped your own, encasing them in the inescapeable cage of his grip. You felt his breath skim your cheek when he leaned down to whisper in your ear. "You didn't think I would let you go, did you?" A stifled shriek flew from your lips when his teeth nibbed at your earlobe. "We're going to have so much fun, you and I."

Not being able to stand it any longer, you opened your eyes and were faced with a wall of broad chest, clothed in expensive looking clothes. Where he had gotten them from, you didn't know, but they fit the Count perfectly. He was mostly clean now, his black hair artfully swept away from his forehead, not a hair out of place. Despite that, you could see several small specks of blood splattered on his skin and the front, where his dark cloak opened to reveal a pristine white shirt and black vest combo.

It was then that you noticed him watching you study him and when you met his eyes, a dark grin bloomed on his face. "Yes, yes, I know. I clean up nicely, don't I?" He flashed you his teeth, and one of his hands curled around your right wrist tightly, the sharp nails digging into your flesh painfully, but not breaking skin. "Now up you get, my sleeping beauty.", he told you breezily and when you were too stunned to comply immediately, he yanked you up and onto your feet effortlessly. You stared up at him, mouth agape and heart racing. "Do you want me to take my clothes off again? You seemed to be much more talkative when I was naked."

"N-no, I..." you spluttered, trying unsuccessfully to free yourself from his grasp. "Now it almost seems as if the roles are reversed.", the Count continued teasingly and you drew your eyebrows together, confused. Freeing a hand, he gestured at your body and you followed the motion, suddenly realising that you only wore a thin white shift to cover your modesty. But it was quite too late to cover yourself. There was nothing that he could see that he would not have seen by now. Instead, you restricted your reaction to a quiet "Ohh."

"(Y/n). I know I said that I'd tear everyone in here apart but" he leaned closer to you, conspiratorially whispering against your temple, "I find that I do not want to do that to you." He stroked his index finger over the inside of your wrist almost tenderly and sought out your eyes, holding them with his. "Instead I have a proposition. An offer that, I'm sure, you will not want to refuse, my dear." You scarcely blinked and had to remind yourself to breathe as you felt lost in the depths of his eyes. Close like this, they looked like they belonged to just a normal human.

"Become my bride, (Y/n)." Your eyes widened. "Wasn't that...wasn't that what you called Jonathan?", you managed to ask. "Yes, well, the position has been left open by, let's say, tragic events. Johnny won't be doing much anytime soon.", he inclined his head, letting a little snort-like laugh escape his throat, "Or ever." You nodded slowly, closing your eyes for a moment. In a way, it felt cathartic. You knew that Jonathan would have never wanted this kind of undead life for himself, where he'd be a danger for your sister. He had truly loved her.

"My sister", you breathed, "is she...", you couldn't finish the sentence. The Count shook his head, his thumb catching you by your chin and tilting your head up. "She will live a long life, provided that she stays silent and doesn't come looking for anyone."

"But why?", you asked. "I exchanged her for Sister Agatha. That woman threatened to kill herself if I did not let her ward go." Your heart thuddered as you were filled with that strange jealousy again. "If you have her, why do you need me?", you questioned, trying to avoid his eyes. The grip on your chin tightened until it pinched. "Look at me, my dear." You obeyed. "Agatha won't become my bride. Much too feisty, that one.", his eyes twinkled mischievously. "Then why..."

"I will pick her apart and drink my fill off of her until her body cannot endure it any longer - and when she begs for it, I will kill her. But not too soon, I plan to make her last.", Dracula place a feather-light kiss against your jawline, just above the pulse-point in your throat. "You...you I plan to keep. I do so hope you'll become my most successful try." You blinked slowly, panting under the touch of his wicked lips.

"Give yourself to me." With a moan, you grapped at his lapels. He let you, pleasantly surprised that it wasn't to push him away but to pull him closer.

"Yes. Yesyesyes.", you chanted mindlessly against his chest, burying your face into the dark cloak that smelt faintly of blood, but mostly of a divine scent that could only be the Count's. It felt so good to let go, and it wasn't as if you had any better alternative. Denying yourself and, most likely, dying as a result wasn't worth it. Or at least that was what you told yourself as he stroked over your hair and settled a possessive hand on your back. "Come on, my dear.", he told you airily, "We have a long journey ahead of us." You followed him willingly.

#bbc dracula #dracula #dracula 2020 #dracula x reader #oneshot #UST #agatha van helsing #100 notes #wow guys #i thought this would get maybe 30 notes max #but i'm happy that you like it

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flutteringphalanges · 3 years

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Don’t Let the Bats Bite

Summary: After decades spent together in England, Agatha, now vampire and wife to Dracula, has maintained a distance from her family members. Even though secretly she has wondered about them. It isn’t until she hears a report that an accident has taken the lives of her great nephew and niece-in-law and left their two year old daughter, Zoe, an orphan that she steps in and, against the Count’s wishes, brings the toddler into their unusual life. Will their vampiric ways conflict too much with parenthood, or is Zoe Van Helsing their missing link to perfection?

Ship: Agatha/Dracula

Rating: T

Chapters: 1/2 (or 1/3)

Read on AO3

A/N: Originally, this was just going to be a one shot, but I felt like doing it in parts because I felt weird just being one long thing. So a few parts it shall be. Feedback is greatly loved and appreciated! -Jen

Part One

“Up!” Dracula stared down incredulously at the demanding two year old. Her name, according to what they could dig up in documents, was Zoe. Zoe Van Helsing. His however many grands niece by marriage to Agatha. During their near century in England, his vampiric bride silently withheld her desires to learn of her family’s presence. For their sake and safety.

But like with many unplanned events, everything changed that fateful day when it was broadcasted over the news that a fatal car accident had taken the lives of Richard and Delilah Van Helsing, leaving their now orphaned toddler in its wake. Her decision was made right then and there. Even before the reporter finished his segment. And Dracula found himself caught between a rock and a hard place.

“We cannot care for this thing, Agatha.” The vampire frowned as the little girl tried to claw her way up his pant’s leg. “We are vampires. We simply aren’t equipped to deal with...this.” Zoe let out a grunt of protest when the man peeled her off of him. “We should return her to Child Protection. Perhaps a social worker can figure something out.”

“Zoe isn’t a thing. She’s a child. Need I remind you that she is family?” Agatha frowned, going over to the child and scooping her up. “Your family nonetheless. She has no one, Dracula. Just us.”

“Well perhaps she should be placed with a human family!” The Count argued with exasperation. “You didn’t even discuss this with me. You went about forging documents and somehow, despite the system, we’ve been granted custody of a practically helpless being!” He began to massage his temples. “Manipulating Frank Renfield to do our bidding is supposed to be my job, not yours.”

It was almost unnerving that, even at her young age, the girl resembled her distant aunt so much. The blues of her eyes. The rich brown locks of her hair. If anyone didn’t know any better, perhaps she could easily be passed off as their biological offspring. How truly odd genetics were. Zoe watched Dracula with a curious expression, one that was slightly more appealing than Agatha’s glare of animosity.

“She stays with us.” The former nun declared firmly, glowering at her lover. “End of discussion.”

Agatha’s frown faded away into a warm smile as her attention turned to the toddler. Gingerly, she tucked a few stray strands of hair that had fallen from one of Zoe’s pigtails behind her ear. The child had only been with them for a few hours and already the vampire’s maternal instincts had blossomed. It was evident how much she adored the child, something her husband had yet to understand.

“I took the liberty of making a list of things we need for the house.” Agatha said, adjusting Zoe in her arms. “I was hoping you’d be willing to go out and buy them.”

“And you thought this why?” Dracula inquired, folding his arms.

“Because I assumed you’d rather do that than stay at home watching her.” His wife replied, throwing him a look. “Zoe’s been through a lot. I don’t want to drag her around to various shops. I promise it isn’t too much. Just a crib, some child locks, baby gates, a high chair, more nappies, a few outfits--I have her size listed, and a few other things. It shouldn’t be hard.” She ignored the stare of disbelief Dracula was giving her. “Once we’ve had some time to settle down, we can really go about setting a nursery up.”

A nursery. The infamous Count didn’t want to question as to which room they’d be turning that into. He knew. And even if he argued against it, Agatha would win. She always did. His prized artwork and treasured statues would be moved else---god forbid the closet. This was why he had never desired children even as a human. They were needy. Required things. Like his study.

“Nothing should require this much work.” He muttered under his breath, knowing full well that Agatha could still very much hear every word. Begrudgingly retrieving his long trench coat, a gift from his wife no less, Dracula briefly glanced over his shoulder. “And where might I find this list of yours?”

“The counter.” She replied curtly, nodding her head in the direction. “It’s getting late so try to be quick about it if you can. Stores close earlier on Sundays, you know.”

“I’m well aware.” The vampire responded, snatching the note from its spot. “I’ll retrieve what I can.”

“Thank you.” Agatha said with a small smile. “We will be waiting with bated breath.” To which she received a grunt in return. Rolling her eyes, Agatha’s attention returned to her niece once her husband had vacated the premises. “Uncle Dracula can be rather grumpy.” She chuckled, kissing the girl’s forehead. “Don’t worry, you’ll win him over. Just wait and see.”

XXX

1897 had been a monumental year for Dracula for many reasons. Most importantly, it was when he met Agatha--though the circumstances were far from favorable. After the massacre of St. Mary’s Convent, he had decided to spare the nun for his own curiosity. A new bride of his own demise. Agatha, of course, had other plans. And after a failed attempt of killing him, she came up with the brilliant idea to end herself. Not a stake. No, lesson learned from Jonathan Harker, but the Sun. Second momentous memory--well, discovery--apparently that bright, burning star in the sky wasn’t so deadly after all.

Something changed between them after that. The toxicity that had once embedded itself in their relationship began to drain away and soon new feelings surfaced. Happy, warmer feelings. Brighter than the Sun itself. And within a few years, hatred became love. And with that romance, became a partnership. Marriage. A life far from Transyvania and into Whitby, England.

Though they could go out during the day, the two still seemed to prefer the nightlife. It was peaceful. Quiet. And watching the sunrise together before tucking away to sleep for a few hours did them both good. But now all of that was going to change. Or so he felt was implied by the list gripped between his clawed fingers.

“First one?”

A friendly voice pulled Dracula from his thoughts and away from the crib he’d been mindlessly staring at. Turning, he saw a rather young man, red hair and equally warm green eyes behind wood framed glasses. Part of him considered the idea of dragging the innocent bystander out into the back alleyway and feasting upon him. But he knew well enough Agatha would somehow figure out he’d killed someone. She always did. Oh how he despised this humane sourcing of blood system they had going on with Frank Renfield’s connections. It took the fun, the rush out of it all.

“If you would call it that.” He replied tonelessly. “Unplanned.”

“Ah, so many of them are. But isn’t that the excitement of it all?!” The stranger grinned, clearly not picking up that his company was unwelcomed. “Do you know what you’re having?”

“A girl.” The vampire replied curtly. “She’s two.”

“Oh, adoption!” The man sounded somewhat confused. “Were you not expecting it to happen so soon or…” He shook his head and smiled. “Well, way to go, mate! It takes a special kind of person to do something like that. Why--”

Dracula’s jaw set in frustration. “Look,” he began. “You seem nice. But I simply do not have time, nor do I wish to, discuss things with you such as babies and the happiness of parenthood. I’m here by request of my wife. I’d like to be in and out of here as quickly as I can. My best wishes to you and your partner. May your rugrat be tolerable.”

It was the best sort of well wishes he could give. Lifting up a crate of cradle parts as if they weighed as much as a mere feather, he set them roughly in his cart before striding off. The faster he could get out of the damned place, the better. The cheerfulness of it almost made his stomach churn. Pink, spill-less sippy cups. Various stuffed plushies with big, beady black eyes. And a few large packs of nappies--though his eyes stared fixated at a purple potty chair. He didn’t want to think about training a child to use that. That, he decided, would be Agatha’s doing.

“All set?”

Unlike the overexcited customer he had just run into, the cashier looked tired. Disinterested in all that was around her. Dracula didn’t mind her lack of emotion as he loaded the contents of his cart onto the conveyor belt. She didn’t share her excitement at the fact he possibly had a new kid, or bombarded him with questions on the subject. Instead, she quietly scanned everything and placed it back into the basket.

“Have a nice night.” The woman said through a wide yawn, handing the vampire his receipt. “Come back to see us soon.”

The wheels of the cart whined as he rolled his cargo across the pavement and to his cart. It took a bit of maneuvering, but by some stroke of luck, he managed to squeeze everything inside. Hopefully Agatha would deem the ride fit enough for a child to be in. It did have a back seat after all. That had to be good enough, shouldn’t it?

Agatha wasn’t there to greet him at the door when he arrived home. Nor did she help him unload the very stuff she had asked for. Instead he found her lying comfortably in their bed, the toddler fast asleep curled up at her side. She held a finger to her lips as he entered their room somewhat perturbed by the stranger in his spot. Surely he wasn’t secretly jealous of a two year old. He wasn’t that juvenile.

“We’ll sit her up in her own room tomorrow.” The former nun whispered as not to wake the toddler. “For now, I see no reason for her not to sleep here. Poor thing is exhausted after all. Went right down not too long after you left.”

“I got everything you asked for.” Dracula replied, leaning against the wall. “You wouldn’t believe how much it cost.”

“We have the money, Dracula.” Agatha countered softly. “Much more than anyone in Whitby, perhaps even most in England. I proved to be quite the accountant when it came to managing our money--not to mention Frank Renfield’s services are rather useful. We will be fine with just one more.” She smiled down at Zoe. “You and I have had many adventures, my love. This is simply another one.”

“A different kind of permanent one.” Her husband muttered quietly. “I’m going to the fridge. How opposed are you to me having the dentist tonight? It’s AB Positive.”

“Take it.” She said with a wave of her hand. “I prefer O anyway. If you could heat up either some of the ethics professor or the banker--if we still have some left, I’d much appreciate it. And it doesn’t have to be the perfect temperature, just nothing below lukewarm.”

Her husband nodded in understanding before turning on his heels and exiting the room. Agatha’s eyes followed him until he disappeared from sight. Apparently, this was all going to take a lot more getting used to that she thought.

XXX

After a few days, the nightmares started and Zoe often woke up screaming for her parents. It didn’t matter what they were doing--whether it be having a nice, quiet moment to themselves or in the thralls of passion, Agatha would tear herself away from her husband and rush into their adopted child’s room. Dracula sighed as his wife brought the tear streaked face toddler into their sitting room right in the middle of their game of chess.

“Want Mummy and Daddy!” The little girl wailed. “Want Mummy and Daddy!”

“I know, I know…” Agatha attempted to soothe, rubbing the girl’s back. She looked to Dracula in almost desperation as if maybe he had a solution to all of this. “Aunt Agatha and Uncle Dracula promise to make all of the bad dreams go away.”

Zoe sniffled and looked towards the Count. “Bye bye, dark!”

The man’s brows furrowed. “What does she mean?”

“Bye bye, dark!” The girl insisted, her volume rising. “Bye bye, dark!”

“Perhaps she’s afraid of the dark?” Agatha inquired, eyeing her niece curiously. “We should consider installing night lights around the house.”

“Agatha, we are creatures of the night!” Dracula groaned. “Certainly she can learn to adjust to the nighttime as we did. She sleeps through most of it!” But the look on his wife’s face told him everything. “Fine.” He said, tone almost cold. “But I get to decide what they look like and where they go.”

A decision, he came to, that involved the famous superhero “Batman”. It seemed only fitting to fix the well known symbol of a black bat surrounded by a halo of yellow within the various sockets in their home. He’d never been a fan of the comic, but he took humor where he could get it.

“Funny!” Zoe informed him one day pointing at the light. She tilted her small head to the side and smiled. “Bird!”

“Bat.” He corrected, grabbing her hand. “As we’ve gone over before. Come now, your supper’s getting cold.”

“Bird.” The toddler insisted, shaking her head as she followed her uncle. “Bird, Daccy, bird!”

“Dracula.” The vampire exhaled, lifting the child into her high chair. “How is it you can say other things but my name gives you a great deal of trouble?”

“I find it rather adorable.” Agatha smirked as she set a plate of peas and macaroni in front of her niece. “Aunt Aggie and Uncle Daccy, has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

“As tasteful as the blood of a leper.” Her husband said, throwing her a look. “Agatha, I honestly do not think this setting is working out.” And as if on cue, a single pea flew past his head and tumbled onto the floor by his feet. Zoe giggled from her seat, quite pleased with herself. “To further prove my point.” He continued, motioning to the abandoned vegetable. “I’m a cold blooded killer, not a loving guardian.”

“We all have flaws.” His wife replied simply, going to wipe the toddler’s mouth. “But that doesn’t mean we cannot fix them.” She pressed a kiss on the toddler’s forehead before turning back to her husband. “And I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and have come to the conclusion that there is perhaps one way we can do that.”

“And that would be…” The Count ventured.

“An uncle and niece day!” Agatha chuckled, noting the stunned expression on her lover’s face. “It’ll be good for the three of us. I get some time to myself and you get to know Zoe more.”

“In the past several centuries of my life, I have never heard of a more ridiculous idea!” Dracula retorted, eyes following Agatha as she moved about the kitchen. “Agatha, you can’t possibly expect me to…”

“You’ve dealt with entire armies.” The former nun interrupted. “Surely a toddler cannot be that much harder.”

Another pea flew through the air, this time hitting Dracula straight in the face. The man frowned deeply as the toddler gave him a toothy grin. When he had taken Agatha as his bride, he hadn’t expected a vegetable wielding toddler in tow decades later. Exhaling, he leaned against the counter. This was going to be one hell of a war.

#Dracula 2020 #Dragatha #Dracula #Agatha Van Helsing #Dracula x Agatha #Dracula BBC #Dracula on Netflix #Don't Let the Bats Bite

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bamon4bamily · 3 years

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TVD 9x16 - What happens in Vegas... (part 1 of part 2) Enjoy!=)

Cut to – a few hours earlier. The Mirage Resort & Casino, three-bedroom villa.

Bonnie opens her eyes, head pounding, confused as to where she is. Unbeknown to her, she is lying on a huge inflatable shaped as, let’s just say a male part, in the middle of their villa’s private pool. She turns her head, to see if she can recognize the place… Bad call, woman overboard.

She quickly rises from below the water and manages to make it to shore. On one of the deck chairs, a familiar face… Bonnie thinks to herself, I must be hallucinating, why is Katherine here? She wasn’t invited. Has to be Elena, but… she’d never wear those tacky shoes… She’ll have to come back to that later. For now, she wants to make sure everyone else survived. She walks inside the villa… it’s apocalypse now.

There’s no way they could have caused so much damage. It was supposed to be a chill girls trip, with some partying, of course, but not to that scale! She hears a sound, sounds as if it comes from the afterlife…Could she be hearing ghosts? Wouldn’t be uncommon to her… but the voice, she knows that voice. She searches, trying to follow the sound, seems like the source is coming from a closet. She opens it… inside, Elena, dressed like a nun, empty bottle of champagne on one hand, a dildo on the other… Maybe, this one is Katherine? Elena wouldn’t be holding that… One thing is for sure, she can now confirm there are two of them there.

BONNIE: Elena?

ELENA: Bonnie… I think I’m dying.

BONNIE: We might actually be dead… otherwise, why would Katherine be here?

ELENA: Katherine?

BONNIE: (As she helps her get out of the closet) I’m pretty sure she’s passed out in the pool patio….

ELENA: (Looking at the aftermath) Holy mother Mary… what the hell happened last night?

BONNIE: I know I’m psychic, but I have no freakin idea.

ELENA: Was I holding, what I think I was holding…?

BONNIE: Yep…

ELENA: (Grabs and shakes her head) I don’t think I want to know why…

BONNIE: … or why you’re dressed like a nun, for that matter. I know I don’t!

ELENA: (Looks at her attire) Oh, god… definitely don’t want to know! Where’s Caroline?

BONNIE: Not sure, let’s check out her room. Hopefully, she’s sleeping like a baby…

ELENA: Somehow, I doubt it...

(They go into the master bedroom to see if Caroline is there. The room is in order, complete opposite of the outside scenario. It seems Caroline is in fact, sleeping in her bed, comfortably covered head to toe).

BONNIE: (Sigh of relief) Ah, thank god! At least one of us had some sense in them… (They approach the bed, just to make sure she’s alright. Bonnie peeks under the covers… Holy shit! (She takes Elena’s hand and immediately teleports out of the room).

ELENA: (Really dizzy from the teleport and the hang-over) Bonnie, you really need to give me a heads up when you do that; especially when I’m in this state! What happened?!

BONNIE: Definitely not Caroline…

ELENA: Who, then?

BONNIE: A cop … all tied up, face cover n’all…

ELENA: What!!! Are you sure?

BONNIE: Pretty sure…

ELENA: Is he… dead?

BONNIE: I think he was breathing, just seemed like he was passed out, but I’m not going back in there to verify.

ELENA: I’ll take a look… I’m sure it can’t be that… (She goes back into the master bedroom, not even a minute in, and she’s back). Well… it’s a cop! But he’s alive, thank god!

BONNIE: Did you see his face?

ELENA: Hell no! Just made sure he wasn’t dead, and got out of there.

BONNIE: (Starts to panic) Oh my god; oh my god, oh my god! We kidnaped a cop!!

ELENA: Maybe it’s a stripper? It’s probably a stripper…

BONNIE: Either way, we kidnapped somebody!

ELENA: Well… at least we didn’t kill them.

BONNIE: No, but we’re kidnappers!!

ELENA: Calm down, Bon. I’m sure there is a logical explanation for all of this…

BONNIE: Elena, I woke up floating on a penis! Katherine is passed out in the patio, wearing nothing but stripper shoes, and I mean, nothing! You are dressed like a nun and had a dildo in your hand! Lexi is hanging-upside down from that chandelier! We kidnapped a cop, or a stripper! And who the hell knows where Caroline and Radka are! Perfectly logical!

ELENA: Wait… Lexi is hanging from where?

BONNIE: Look up, I just spotted her… (Lexi drops to the ground).

LEXI: (Looking utterly confused) Where am I?? Oh no… is this another version of the other side? Not again… Can’t be peace… since you are here (referring to Elena) …

ELENA: (A tad irritated with her constant subtle insults) I’m too hung over to reply with a snap…

(a few seconds later, Katherine walks into the villa, makes her way into the open kitchen…)

KATHERINE: (Looks at them and shakes her head) You call me the crazy bitch? You are all borderline insane!

(As she pours herself some water) Want some?

BONNIE: Uhm… why are you here?

KATHERINE: Duh, you invited me.

BONNIE: No we didn’t.

KATHERINE: Yes you did… and (looks at the mess), if I can find my phone, I can prove it to you.

LEXI: Maybe you should put some clothes on first…

KATHERINE: (Realizes she’s naked but doesn’t really care) Oops…

ELENA: We would never invite you, Katherine. Cut the crap and tell us why you are really here.

KATHERINE: Actually, Elena, you were the one that invited me; so, rude!

ELENA: That’s ridiculous!

KATHERINE: Fine, I’ll show you the proof; my phone has to be around here… somewhere.

BONNIE: Just, please, put something on, for god’s sake!

KATHERINE: Fine, Bonnie! Gees, such prudes! (She finds a robe nearby, puts it on, and looks for her phone. As she looks amongst the debris, she finds another casualty, passed out under a piece of furniture). Well… found Radka! The good news, she is breathing. The bad… ain’t no way she is waking up any time soon… she’s completely out.

ELENA: (To Bonnie on the side) There’s no way I invited her, right?

BONNIE: Before last night, I would’ve said, hellz no! But…

KATHERINE: Well… it’s going to take a bit longer than I thought to find my phone. And, shouldn’t we be focusing on more important issues? Like the fact that the bride is MIA!

LEXI: (To Bonnie and Elena) Hate to admit it, but she’s right.

ELENA: Also…we seemed to have kidnapped a stripper, or a cop…

BONNIE: Okay, okay, I’m sure we can figure this out. We just need to retrace our steps; does anyone remember anything about last night?

ELENA: I remember we had a spa day… then we came back to the villa, got all glitz & glammed, opened a bottle of champagne to kick-off the night. After that, I’m at a blank…

BONNIE: Well, the original plan was supposed to be… a spa day, followed by dinner at Le Cirque, drinks at The Cosmopolitan, closing with, and against our will, that Britney Spears show at Planet Hollywood… But I also checked out after our kick-off cheer...

LEXI: I vaguely remember Le Cirque… something about a clown?

ELENA: (To Katherine) I’m going to play along because we really need to figure out what’s going on… You said I invited you, when was that?

KATHERINE: You sent me a WhatsApp around five, I think…

ELENA: Aha! You are lying! That can’t be true! No way you would have made it here on time!

KATHERINE: You do remember your best friend can teleport, right? Bonnie was the one that got me here.

I must say, I was reluctant at first, but there was no way I was missing the opportunity to mess with Caroline. Anyway, I joined you guys in your little cheer, and then, lights out… That’s the last thing I remember.

BONNIE: … I think she’s right… I’m getting flashbacks of you and Caroline cracking up, the Salvatore house; Katherine complaining she hadn’t had the chance to pack; the cottage; Kai…

LEXI: Yes… I remember Caroline talking about a prank…

ELENA: (To Bonnie) Wait, did you say Kai?

BONNIE: Did I?

LEXI: You did…

BONNIE: I don’t know; I’m all messed up! I’m just saying things as they come. But that’s not important now. So, back on track. I say we first check every single corner of this place; maybe Caroline is here… if not, we’ll check the spa, the pool, the shops, etc…

KATHERINE: Well, if we want to make it back in time for the love fest… which I could care less, we should probably find a faster strategy. Lexi and I can search the larger area, vamp our way through the hotel. And you two (referring to Bonnie and Elena), can look here. (To Bonnie) Unless you can do your witchy woo to find her faster?

BONNIE: My powers are all over the place, don’t want to risk it. So, and I hate to say it, your original plan sounds like a good idea.

KATHERINE: I’m full of good ideas, Bonnie (winks).

BONNIE: (Rolls her eyes) Just meet us back here once you’ve searched the place.

(They search everywhere, Caroline is nowhere to be found. They teamback at the villa)

BONNIE: Any luck?

LEXI: Nop. She isn’t in the hotel, that’s for sure.

ELENA: Well, she isn’t here either.

BONNIE: Great, back to square one…

KATHERINE: (Completely off topic, looking at Elena up and down) I’ll never get tired of saying it, I really am much better looking than you.

ELENA: (Triggered by her comment) Please, you wish. Or did your slut brain forget you lost two men to me? Ouch…

KATHERINE: One, actually. I never loved Damon. But I’ll say this, because you need to hear it. It’s quite sad that your insecurities led you to marry the first man that paid any attention to you, after you lost Damon to Bonnie. Which, and let’s not kid ourselves here, was way before they got together. Anyone with half a brain would know that Damon fell in love with Bonnie in that prison world, he was just afraid to admit it… Ouch!

ELENA: Bitch...

BONNIE: Katherine, shut up, or I swear…

LEXI: Wow, wow, wow, wow… ladies, chill! We are going way off topic, and into dangerous territory….

KATHERINE: Just saying, your wedding ring is tacky.

ELENA: What the hell are you talking about?! What wedding ring??

KATHERINE: You really ain’t that bright, are you? The one on your finger, Einstein.

ELENA: What?! (Looks at her finger, she’s in fact wearing quite a tacky ring. Turns to Bonnie) No…. Please tell me I didn’t….

(she takes the ring off, it’s engraved, the inscription reads: No matter how forbidden, our love will last forever. Sister Mary Chapel.

Looks nauseous) I think I’m going to throw up (runs into the nearest bathroom).

BONNIE: (To Katherine) I know you are soulless… but why would you say that to her?

KATHERINE: Because it’s true, Bonnie! You people really need to learn to be more honest with each other.

BONNIE: You’re gonna talk about honesty, really?

KATHERINE: When it comes to the people I care about; I couldn’t be more honest… Anyway, I do believe we have a lead… Guessing that place can give us some insight about last night. So, let’s wait for Sister Mary Elena to get it out of her system, and go to church, god knows you all need it. I’m gonna go change, and I figure my Doppelgänger should do the same. And you (to Bonnie), should probably put on some dry clothes.

(They slip into something more decent, and off they go).

They take an uber to the place; it is definitely not what they were expecting. Not your typical Vegas wedding chapel; on the the contrary, it’s quite sober and elegant.

They go inside, it’s empty…

They walk around to see if they can find someone, or any indication that they were there last night. Just as they are about to give up, Katherine spots something strange inside one of the confessionals.

KATHERINE: Ladies, I think I found something… (they go check it out). Isn’t this (shows them a bracelet) Barbies?

BONNIE: (Takes it) Yes, this is Caroline’s. So… we were here… Why would we come to a church?

LEXI: (Teasing) Maybe we were feeling regretful, wanted to confess our sins.

KATHERINE: What the hell… (she sees a very strange lever, definitely not fitting with the decor; she decides to pull it… the confessional door closes, and descends into the unknown…)

LEXI: Uhm… might still be really hung-over, but are we going down?

BONNIE: We sure are… down a rabbit hole…

ELENA: I have a real bad feeling about this…

KATHERINE: Come on, have some sense of adventure, might be fun!

ELENA: God, I swear I’m going to kill you.

KATHERINE: (Sarcastic) You wouldn’t dare take a life in the house of the lord, would you? I don’t think he would approve, Sister Mary Elena.

ELENA: Well, you’re already dead, so… (just as they’re about to go at it again, the door opens…) Holy mother Mary…

TVD 9x16 (part 2 of part 2) coming next. Hope you stop by, read and enjoy! =)

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