dreamyoncs​.

          “  –  and you have a problem with dark and twisted things?  ”     she knew damn well that he didn’t, yet still offered the question to prove her case that she was right in her stance against him.  in all honesty, even if she thought she was wrong, the witch would never let him know that.  not when he was clearly looking in between the lines to hook a finger around whatever loose thread he could find in her to tug on  –  just like exactly what he did mere seconds after that train of thought.  lips forming into a frown, davina looked at jack with the same unwavering expression as he continued with his accusation, clearly unimpressed.  though, she couldn’t prevent the roll of her eyes once he was seemingly finished, lips only parting then.     “  fantasy?  interesting way to call a nightmare.  a never-ending one at that.  ”

          the humorless tilt of her lips upwards with the squint of her eyes that was supposed to mimic a fake sickly sweet smile was wiped away as soon as he leaned in to further violate whatever was left of her personal space, the witch looking at jack as she stood completely still.  with a slight raise of her eyebrows, she tilted her head to the side, placing one foot placed in front of the other.     “  oh you have no idea.  ”    instead of getting closer when she took the step, jack was knocked back a step or two with an invisible force and she continued this for a total of three times, a mild unspoken knock-back spell pushing him away with each step she took.  buzzing with magic, the air around her thickened and davina decided to give him one last warning.     “  last chance to bail out.  i promise i won’t be mad if you take off running and never look back.  ”

  it happens more often than she’d think ,     this animal comparison drawn  ---  and it seldom lead for favorable places  ,     though ,   admittedly ,    pirate parrot had been a first .   a wolf had always been its favorite  ----    the teeth  ,     the disguises  ,       the metaphors it allowed  .    he wouldn’t have minded have spent eternity as a wolf ,      he thinks ,      roaming these woods unabashed  ,     tearing all that crossed its path  ---  little girls in red coats included .     but he’d have died off too soon ,    he concludes ,    as all lone wolves do .      jack has never belonged in a pack ,     let alone conviving in a civilized society .    what follows is everyone’s fault but his own .     “   liar , “       a hiss of hostility trembles in her ear ,   ridden with impish mirth .     it’s all in good fun ,    no ill-intent ---  so he’ll tell himself .     perhaps someday it ought to be true .

    he hadn’t prepared ,     not even attempted to do so when she bends nature to do her whim :     three beats to the his chest  ,   like warmdrums  ,       an invisible force will knock him back again and again ,      until distance has been regained .       it’s tame ,     calculated  .    and far from the worst reciprocations he’d endured  .     when she finds him he is not wounded nor frightened  ,        jack looks unconsequentionally gleeful  ---  not a testament to her strength ,      but certainly to his word .     “       there you go !             i knew you had it you !      ”       he    howls  ,    clapping loudly with both hands clasp together in a wave of pure ,     unfiltered exctiement   .       those gloved fingers of black smoke goad her ,     signaling for davina to continue to unleash whatever monster had been kept captive underneath polite nods and pearly smiles  ,        giggling like a starved hyena prowling the area for its next stolen meal ,     his cloaked sillhoette morphs into a blur of ebony amdist that vast greenery .     there ,    here ,    everywhere as infectious laughter fills the valley in airy delight  .         “     come on ,      come play with me !    ”       jack calls further into the woods ,    scattered about into so many pieces while urging her to follow .

mortalrot​.

𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴'𝚂   𝙰   𝙲𝙰𝙻𝙲𝚄𝙻𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶   𝙴𝙳𝙶𝙴   𝚃𝙾   𝚃𝙷𝙴   𝚆𝙰𝚈   𝚂𝙷𝙴   𝚆𝙰𝚃𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚂   𝙷𝙸𝙼   ;      a   twinkle   to   her   eyes   that   promises   upon   him   a   reckoning   for   the   presumptuous   attitude.   (   a   part   of   her   dares   him   to   push   ,      but   a   greater   part   of   her   ?      knows   he   wants   to.   )   kneeling   before   her   ,      he’s   just   as   much   the   image   of   physical   perfection   as   he   was   the   day   he   met   her.   cut   from   marble   ,      beautiful   ⸻   it   equal   parts   pleases   her   ,      as   much   as   it   does   peeve   her.         ❛         it’s   true   ,      i’ve   been   awfully   overworked.         ❜         a   mask   of   hardworking   sincerity   sits   pretty   on   her   features   ,      lips   pouting   in   self   -   pity   as   she   brought   forth   a   hand   to   examine.   (   perfectly   manicured   ,      painted   red.   they’re   baby   soft   in   a   way   that   speaks   of   nonexistent   labouring   ⸻   or   flawless   spellwork.   )   

         ❛         and   here   i   thought   having   you   ,      was   meant   to   free   me   of   all   my   burdens   ,      jack.         ❜         same   hand   reaching   out   to   cup   his   cheek   ,      her   voice   is   full   with   soft   disappointment   ;      her   eyes   the   only   thing   to   betray   her   the   true   fervency   of   her   situation.   while   there’s   hardly   -   a   -   many   tangible   things   that   she   wants   for   with   such   frenzy   ,      the   amount   of   things   that   are   able   to   elude   her   stack   up   to   even   less.   the   grimoire   is   an   outlier   ,      an   exception   ,      and   she   despises   it   with   an   ever   growing   ,      ever   simmering   rage.         ❛         darling   ,         ❜         rising   up   until   she’s   properly   seated   and   wrapped   in   her   sheets   ,      she   dismisses   the   masseuse   ,       still   suspended   in   motion   ,       with   a   flick   of   her   fingers   and   murmur   of   latin.   by   the   looks   of   the   blood   that   continued   to   flow   from   the   corners   of   their   eyes   ,      they   wouldn’t   make   it   so   as   far   as   the   next   room   over   ,      but   her   own   attentions   were   already   turned   back   to   far   more   important   things.         ❛         you’re   going   to   tell   me   everything.         ❜

that duplicitous thing in his chest    quivers with anticipation ,     leans compulsively into those needle-like fingers  - so sharp ,     treasuring each touch with the overt satisfaction of a domesticated animal .      to love something so entirely devoid of conscience that you    allow yourself to think blood tastes like wine ,      was that not the most beautiful of horrors ?     was that not what poets and musicians gushed about in their prose ?   love was red  ,    and violent  ,    and beautiful .     and so was she  .     “     aw .    you poor thing ...      ”      jack indulges ,      feigning naiveté to cater to her ego relentlessly ;      there is not a world in which he would deny her .      “     you don’t get far enough credit for your tenacity ,      do you?    ”      claiming proprietary hold of each brazen finger that place him under such a placating spell ,   he gracefully sets them to rest over the graveyard of his lips ,     kissing and pecking at pads where flesh meets with sharp incisors  .        ”    i know ...     i’m terrible .       you should’ve turned me into a gerbil a long time ago ...    but i do enjoy being the    bigger ,    meaner pet    of this household .    “  

he pays no mind to the gory scene that unfolds besides a fleeting glance of morose acklowledgement :      jack was willfully blind to the world beyond the scope of her will .      rowena could do no wrong  ,     go too far  ,     want too much  .     he’d long   abandoned     doubt at the gates ,     if it once clouded his devotion .      he finally rises  ,      steady and with an amused lilt in his step  .    “     down to every single nasty detail ,       i promise .   ”      those hands that always find a reason to latch onto her rest over the thin layer that drapes her pale thighs ,       slow and deliberate ,    propping him forward .      “    i have a gift in my trunk .    you’re gonna love it ...            but first :     tell me  ,     ”        he takes a folded  ,     crinkled photograph from his pocket ,        and holds it like bait between his thumb and forefinger for her eyes to feast upon .   inked into glossy paper :    gideon loughlin in all his glory ,    looking remarkably alive beside an older ,    less remarkable gentleman .        “    does this little mouse looks familiar to you ?     "

I came out to attack people and I’m honestly having such a good time right now

dreamyoncs​.

          “  is that  –  is that really what is bothering you about this?  ”     davina questioned upon hearing him out on the matter, mouth falling agape a few times as she scrambled for words.  he seemed to be weighing her words for real, when it was but a simple comment about him being practically perched on her shoulder.  his reaction really took her by surprise, too, and they were left gaping at each other for a second before he decided to accept it somewhat unwillingly.     “  you were practically sitting on my shoulder.  ”     she said, voice louder and more emphasis on words with the slight nod of her head, gaze fixed on the man like a teacher trying to make sure her words were getting through.  turning around momentarily to stuff the items into her bag, she pressed her lips together to keep calm as he kept talking  –  but of course he had to go and smear it in her face that she couldn’t focus on a basic unbinding spell.  gathering herself for a moment, she let out a sigh and turned to face him once more but quickly her exasperation turning into curiousity.  she was no stranger to people offering help for one reason or another but this propositon was quite different.     “  you want to be my target?  ”     eyebrows raised, it was clear that he got the attention now.     “  oh there it is, you finally lost it…  you can’t be seriously offering that,  ”     a pause, eyes squinted and head tilted to the side to look him over.     “  can you?  ”

       “    it’s a dark and twisted thing to say,     ”             jack’s tonal protests strangles itself in the depths of his throat ,   unwilling to let that particular imagery be swept under a mat easily ,     his blue eyed gaze swivels ,      checking both sides of his peripheal in a display of contained agitation ,     the smallest hint of humor reeling his mouth upward ---  not quite enough to paint a smile ,    though ,       it is certaintaly entertained .      he narrows his eyes like   a petulant child     ,      rabbited nose tipped upward and tongue caught between sharp incisors ,      directly challanging her accusations .     “      is that what you were thinking about while practicing your spell  ----- me sitting on your shoulder?    oh my.      i see...    no wonder it didn’t work ...       with your mind so busy conjuring these   wild fantasies    about me ,    and all ...    ”      now it    cracks  ,      that dent in his nonchalant demeanor ,     breaching an opening for mirth to pour in  ;       it dances along the edges of his mouth ,    tempting her to wipe it off   ,       feeding small admissions that never belonged in her tongue as if they were her own .    averting his disconcerting look to the ground ,    jack shields a stream of snickering laughter with pale knuckles  ,       looking like every boy who’d tugged a girl’s pigtails during primary school . 

      “  hmm?     ”     pulling at that thread,     hiw low-set gaze shoots up as if ignited .    she’s still somewhat constrained to a narrow space when she poses the question ,     and he takes full advantage to lean further within her confinements  ,        locking their eyes in a trance .       “     of course i can .    i am .    ”        that toothed maw paints itself into a wolfish grin ,       inviting her to take the shortcut home .         “  come now ...        it’ll be fun !     -------     i know you’ve thought about hurting me at least once ...       i can see it in your eyes .     ”

harvehlle​.

&.   ( meme. )       @jackrippner​

The girl doesn’t wince at the slickness of the blood nor does she avoid staring at the redness as it stains her fingers. They work swiftly with regal strokes of her stitching, the thread weaving in and out of the flesh like an approaching omen. She pays it no mind, although she should understand that the fly is helping the spider by sharpening his teeth - the cobweb stuck to her fingertips like strawberry jam. The needle pauses before the final stitch, gaze angles upwards at his gesture of physical gratitude. The mild surprise mixes in with the pink flush on her face while she hides it from view as she bows her head once more, moves her hand out from underneath his with a gathered storm of willpower. She then ties off the end of the wound with a tight knot in the string. The warmth of his blood on her hands is mostly ignored, although there’s a heaviness to her movements as she gently places the needle down on the surface beside them. Lips part suddenly, dark eyes searching the face of the expressionless. ‘You need to be more careful.’ She’s meant to say this as a casual comment, a watered down version of caution that is similar to that of a mother or an uninterested friend. Instead, it comes off the tongue with a warm sweetness. Curls in the air between them with an innocent scent of vulnerability. She is too unguarded here, too naked without the barbed wires that seasoned hunters carry with them. Teeth gnaw at her bottom lip before wiping her hands in the cloth left in her lap from her previous attempt at stopping the flow of blood. She doesn’t need to glance down at them to realize that there are some stains that are permanent. A pause before she nods at the stitched up slit, ‘Keep it clean until it heals. Y’need anything else from me?’

what a gory mess      he has become  ,       and yet there is undeniable fascination in his stare   -----    where everything else was a concotion of what was deemed acceptable in such a dire situation ,       but his admiration for her handy work was real .       the way she weaves that needle through his skin ,      unfazed by all that red now permanently drenched into her clothes ;     there was something awfully endearing about it .     he manages to crack a smile ,     peering down at her with drowsy eyes as if his judgement was impaired by a cocktail of sedatives.    “   i always heard scars were supposed to be manly ...        i can’t grow a beard ,       so at least i’ll have that going ---- ow,    ”      it’s a timed reaction  -----  he knows what should hurt ,    when ,    how  ----  the only thing lacking is the feeling .    so ,    he easily slips back into the role of wounded doe ,     stumbling around the woods hoping for a safe pair of hands to land onto .      of course --- there’d be no scar left by noon .        when he lowers his t-shirt over the bruised flesh of his abdomen ,     hiding the bit of bare skin submitted to her delicate work ,      he can already feel it pulsating  ,     urging to seal itself .      though admittedly :       he almost wishes it’d leave a scar ,      a mark ,     anything to remember this moment .      but such is the curse of immortality  ,      everything is fated to be washed away by the rains of time .    everything but that which he conceals in a closed fist .     ”      i promise .       though ,      you have to admit :   i do make a very good damnsel in distress .    ”    jest -------  but god knows his face can only twist into something threatening underneath a cloak of shadows  .        nobody ever sees the dagger until it’s sunken into their neck .    he doesn’t outright answer her question ,     but instead throwing breadcrumbs for jo to find her way back to him .    little pieces of information divulged just at the right time    -------      he waits for a breath ,     a suspire .       “      you’re skilled ...      where did you learn all that?     ”

1.  run from me . timber timbre.   2.  tainted love .  chase holfelder    3.  one way or another .   until the ribbon breaks.  4 . we’ll meet again . vera lynn.  5 .  werewolf heart .  dead man’s bones.  6 .   bury a friend .  billie eilish.   7 .   bark like a god .   sloppy jane.   8 .  goonidhgt, sweetheart, goodnight .  the spaniels.    9 . you always hurt the ones you love .  the mills brothers.  10 .   mama’s gun .   glass animals .   11 .  bury me face down .  grandson.   12 .  my oh my .   camilla cabello.  13 .  choke .  i don’t know how but they’ve found me.  14 .  you’re so creepy .  ghost town.  15 . animal impulses .  iamx. 16 .   the devil is a gentleman .  merci raines.  17 .   little red riding hood .  aeseaes.   18 .   every breath you take .  chase holfelder     19 . enjoy the silence . denmark + winter. 

& LISTEN .

@dreamyoncs

castle,  2x07

@mortalrot​ asked :    39﹕ sender is caught following receiver . ( for famine !! )

the irony doesn’t escape him :       to spend so long in a fox’s hole only to suddenly find yourself slipping into the role of rabbit through another’s eye ----   it’s fascinating ,     how  easily perceptions can be twisted .      he first notices the shadow stretching itself thing behind the trail of his heel  ,       somewhere near a vacant alleyway that had long been forgotten by god .      streetlights flicker as he continues ,     foreboading danger ,     and the skies above promise no salvation ,     starless and painted black .         what did it want?     why this sudden coy demeanor?         it feels awfully inadequate ,       to stand behind    the other side    of the fence ,     for once .

jack is there one moment ,    and the next he disappears behind a corner  ,     taking a sharp turn .    he settles himself against an ancient brick wall ,   crumbling to touch  ;   dusting off the specks of dry cement that pepper down his expensive blaze while waiting for the inevitable .       “   i’m   flattered ,     really ,    ”       gloved fingers wave cartoonishly as she emerges ,    dimly lit and veiled in a mysterious aura .   he accesses her from that same spot ,  without moving an inch .  “   ---- but you could’ve just said   hello .    ”

KILLING EVE I have a thing about bathrooms (1x05), dir. Jon East.

dreamyoncs​.

          always curious as a cat, davina simply let him linger there to see how long it’d last.  if he would actually keep his stance hovering over her shoulder, chin brushing it with every motion of her hands over the object and hair tickling her cheek every now and then until she couldn’t stand it anymore and said something about it.  and that was exactly what had happened; the girl was stubborn, determined not to take a step back and accept that she couldn’t focus with the distractions yet her nerves could take only so much.  and he was not only getting on them, he was trying to oh so subtly stomp on them, she could see it in his face when she turned around to confront him.  it was in the tone of his voice, in the way how easily words slipped past his lips.  she was still curious of his reason of presence, that was what kept her standing before him still indulging the man with this.  arms still firmly folded over her chest, the witch shifted her weight on her feet impatiently, a brow raised in sync.     “  that’s what i was meaning to ask.  ”     davina replied, head tilting to the side out of habit.     “  what are you doing perched on my shoulder like a pirate parrot?  why are you here?  ”

        "    a pirate parrot ?  “         something about the way the words unwrap from his tongue convey an undeniable touch of disbelief     --------     why parrot ?     why pirate for that matter ?     was something about this particular look screaming outlaw ,     or was it his brazen disregard for laws of convivialism that translated into that strange comparison?     he narrows those sky blue eyes  ,     staring at her for a few long seconds in complete silence ,     digesting her words fully .      "    not a pretty canary or ...      even like an annoying pigeon?     ------ alright ,    interesting ...    ”          it’s hard to focus for him too ,    albeit he’d be willing to bet ,    for entirely different reasons ;     she smells very sweet ,    rosemary and pineweed ,  wilderness and feminity mixed into a gentle concotion .    this hunger is is kept tightly under wraps ,    but even someone as skilled as jack in the art of deception can’t deny his own parched mouth that unveils in small signs of agitation .        “        can you really blame me for being a little    curious?     you were stumbling over your words so much i thought there might be a broken record in here somewhere ...      ”      he almost cracks a taunting laugh ,    but clears his throat instead .   “  need a little help?        you know ...        i hate to brag :        but i’ve been told i make an   amazing target .      ”

dreamyoncs​.

@jackrippner​ asked: ∗ 33﹕ sender hovers over receiver’s shoulder as they complete a task .

          having to start over with the spell one more time as she was distracted by the gaze she could feel right behind her neck, davina began to chant through gritted teeth as her hands moved over the object on the table before her.  focusing had been a lot harder lately due to whatever that was going on among them supernatural and the vampire wasn’t helping at all by practically hovering over her shoulder the whole time.     “  ever considered practicing new things?  i would recommend something called personal space.  ”     she said, not turning to look at him as she tried the chant again to no avail.  she just couldn’t focus her energy onto the object and despite knowing that it had more to do with her general lack of control lately than his unwavering gaze, she would of course not admit to it.  with a sigh her hands shot up for a second in surrender, turning around to look at jack properly.     “  you were doing that just for the sake of it, weren’t you?  don’t tell me you’re so interested in seeing how magic works, now.  ”     arms folding over her chest, the witch squinted her eyes at the other.

        he holds himself    perfectly still   against that moment   ----  a mere observer ,   a hummingbird peering over the bump of her shoulder ,    chin nearly perched atop her arm  ,     hoarfrost eyes steady    &    innocuous as that of a child .      he bats those fluttering wings of lashes  ,      ticklish against the rosy flush of her cheek .     intimacy’s thrusted upon her without suble cues  ,    without warning ,     without foresight .      this closeness ought to be reserved for familiars and tragic lovers  ,     and yet he so brazenly violates these societal rules  ,        as though they are but a simple wish  ---- an afterthought ,     easily dismissed  .    his face   twists   into an expression of contained amusement the second she voices awareness ,   that sneaky looped smile betraying his subtliety .      why hadn’t she stopped him ?      why did she allow for intimacy to brew where there should be nothing but animosity ?    politeness is too vague of an excuse  .   she has it in her to be cruel ,     she has in her to violent ,    and yet she chooses to indulge him  .      why?   he doesn’t ask ,       but rather lets his sight linger awhile longer upon hers ,  as she repeats that memorized spell like a broken record ,     and each time ,   frustration swells in her tongue .     he’s quick to anchor davina’s begrunging arms as she near-crashes into his chest to open the door of confrontation  .       “    doing ... ?    ”     he feigns ignorance  ,       knowing how well it suits him .     “   what am i doing ,    exactly ?   ”

thiehf​.

[…]

Look to all the gods and kings. Patriarchy breeds without evolution. She is both Medusa and Cleopatra, she is Zeus and Odin - she lingers on the war fields that hold the stench of blood. Mud is her body as it changes form each morning. She walks among the vampires and encourages them to snap their teeth at her. She wants a chance to split the skin open herself. She wants to see what’s lurking inside of them that makes them cold and terrifying. She’d devour them all if it gave her eternal retribution. Jack is a man of considerations, he rarely does anything without chewing it over in his mouth as though to squeeze out one more morsel of fatty tissue. She studies him without recollection of finding him to ever be a bit as interesting as any of the other men. They boast of their stomachs and the bottomless pits of their souls, and yet she has more appetite than they ever will. More desire to kill, as well. She’s thinking of this instead of focusing on the movement of his approach. He sways like a cobra, she stays put - transfixed by the way fear gushes into her bloodstream like cold milk. A shudder that ripples along her otherwise stiff shoulders at his touch, her cheeks reddening out of the rawness of paralyzing horror. This time she shuts her eyes for a moment, composes herself within the few seconds of tranquil darkness before lashes flutter them back open. The gasp is short-lived as it’s choked from the back of her throat, her face being guided to gaze into his. The abyss eats just as much as she does, it would seem. While she never makes a habit of releasing those guarded prison bars away to reveal a vulnerable interior, there is a moment here that causes a tremble of her bottom lip to become prominent. Nausea swells up in her belly and constricts her from within. Her body is beginning to devour itself, desperate for some substance of courage. ‘I never lie, darling. People just hear what they want to.’ Her usual tone of smoothness has been diminished, replaced with a dull monotone - splintered off of her tongue with a wince as if she were in physical pain by the admittance. The pulse trudges on, molasses-thick. Glare deepens upwards, her neck aching from the angle, but determined not to let it show. The beginning of a hot river stings at her eyes and she blinks back the threat of tears. A weepy maiden does not slow the wolf’s hunger, nor does it offer any reprieve from the gallows ahead. Nonetheless, there is a plump droplet of saline that slips from one eye, only out of frustration - only out of mortal recognition that forewarns death. Her wrist is not her own and she doesn’t bother to strain against his strength, knew better than to struggle in the grip of a killer. ‘Sounds all well and good, except I have an additional proposal that might sweeten you right up. Something that even one of the most powerful vampire families on earth don’t know I have. But[…]they certainly want it.’ Her skin twitches as it becomes aware of the risk she is proposing, mouth dropping open as she stares up at him. She’s too submissive here, too much of a weasel and not at all the serpent that she’s used to being. It seemed time to have the upper-hand, and she was not hesitant to bite back to acquire it. Features twist into something almost ethereal, the wide eyes of a survivor meeting one more thing to endure. ‘You’re not as clever as I originally thought if that doesn’t intrigue you even a tad[…]everyone wants power.’ Her opinion is crooned out with a graceful duty of enunciating each word favourably, making sure to let her tongue slide against her front teeth with a demand for an audience. She is a puppet here and she’ll dance for her master, but to her own song. Threat of her demise by his hand is swallowed down with a half-gag, the corruption in the room seemed to breed a sickness that her esophagus had yet to keep down. The first act for his darling puppet show begins as she takes a step forward, presses one hip against him, chin jutted out with a purposeful show of disobedience. There is a mocking stare here, although the heartbeat is still intolerably rabbit-like. ‘Yes[…]you do seem like the type to have a disturbing fixation on dismembering harmless women. No need for threats, Jack. I’ll behave.’

silence is heavy .   a weapon of choice ,       he once heard .      silence cuts  .    silence teaches  .       silence will drive you into the arms of insanity if you allow it .       what awful ,    insidious thoughts pleague her so that she cannot withstand this punishment ,     he wonders .      she is certainty an object of mystery    ------ entertaining in her own voliteness .     she’d not be breathing if she wasn’t .       how does it feel to eat your own lies ?     in this ,     they are the same ,    wreched reflections of each other .         she has convinced her own tongue that poison tastes like wine :      i never lie .       believe me .     trust me .      how many times did she repeat it like a mantra ,      hare still before a mirror  ,       until time had ceased to exist ,   and those morphed into a dull shade of truth ?       

no ,      he knows better than to trust her to cross this river   -------    you should never trust a scopion .     though their smiles might be charming ,    and their words sweet  ,       it will always sting  .        it might not do it out of spite ,    but it will sting you all the same ,      even if it kills you both .    this tale he knows by heart :       nature will always prevail against affairs of the heart .  

“      are you    tempting    my curiosity ?   ”        hooded eyes forebode danger ,     memorising each traces  ,     each shallow breaths ;    drunken in the nocturnal light of restless skies  .     it could weight down saints like an achor if only it willed it so .           his smile is a knife :       sharp ,    cutting  .       there was no resemblance of humanity left to crawl under ,     no warmth  ,     no joy .     it is stripped bare of emotion and meaning  .     it is simply that :      hollow  .       “    okay .       i believe you .    ”     ——-   he doesn’t .     not for a minute .    not for a second  .      and the kiss he plants with such vigor on her forehead is neither tender nor unburdening  :           it is a mark ,      a ghostly scar .      a promise that though he lets her breathe today ,      tomorrow is another day .       and every day after that she will be followed by that familiar shadow of dread ,   that someday this thing will creep into her room again ,     through an agape closet door   ,       or the space under her bed  ,      and even the darkness behind her eyelids ,       to steal away every breath it has let her draw .     every clever word she has crafted in her mouth .       “     oh that    insufferable stone ...    ”     he recognizes almost immediatly from her description  .      “    you have it ?         that’s hilarious ...     ”      how many original mice does it take to find a stone ?     as it happens :       only one human .   this burst of laughter erupts from his lungs  :   vicious not unlike that of    hyenas    in the desert  ,     encircling their next meal .    “      you think i’d take your collateral like that ?           bela ...        come now ...       i’m not a monster .    ”        

ofvampyr​.

-🩸-

Brown eyes glared at the other vampire. Usually, Nora was a patient woman. However, Jack was a special case, capable of getting in her nerves faster than even Russell could. “Don’t,” she demanded, taking the child from Jack. “We don’t need any more bad publicity.” Humans were about ready to grab their torches and pitchforks since the end of the auction; they surely wouldn’t hesitate to organize a town wide vampire hunt if they saw human children being flung out of Crimson Peak. Nora’s nose wrinkled as she held the small human at a distance, suppressing the urge to gag. With a nod, Nora ordered one of her guards to take the thing, using the cloth napkin she was offered to wipe her hands. “Why did you even bring it here?”

-

it was joke ...      mostly .      he’d never understood the urge to    shelter   things that were little ,    and helpless  —-    never had empathy for anything too weak to take care of itself ,     let alone support its own   neck .        he should’ve left it to get trampled by the horde of fleeing humans  ,     let its guilt hang on their shoulders .    but something urged him to pick it up .   “    bad publicity ,      good publicity ...     does it matter?   humans don’t like anything that’s different ,       it’s always been that way .    it’s gonna change until we become benefitial to them somehow.    ”         the only thing that trumps human cynicism :     usefulness .        he watches the creature be cradled by two unfamiliar arms and taken away ,       and waves it off with gloved fingers as it smiles and gurgles .       babies didn’t yet had that still small voice in their head that warned them against plugging their fingers into electrical sockets  ---    he figures that’s why they liked him so much .    “   i don’t know .       it’s grumpy and small ...      i thought it might like you .    ”     that ,    and he only really knows one way to handle situations .    nora’s always been more versitile in that aspect .

&.     ＬＥＶＩＡＴＨＡＮ.    @jackrippner

mortalrot​.

𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴   𝙸𝚂   𝙰   𝚁𝙸𝚅𝙴𝚁   𝙾𝙵   𝙲𝚁𝚄𝙴𝙻𝚃𝚈   𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃   𝚁𝚄𝙽𝚂   𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙾𝚄𝙶𝙷   𝙷𝙴𝚁.   tumultuous   and   bone   -   deep   ,      it   calls   for   constant   sacrifice   ,      the   rough   waters   demanding   supplication   to   be   satiated.   drown   one   body   ,      drown   two   ⸻      but   it   doesn’t   take   very   long   to   realize   the   nauseating   truth   :   her   rivers   are   oceans   ,      and   no   number   of   bodies   could   ever   hope   to   fill   it.   (   over   three   hundred   years   at   her   side   ,      and   you’d   think   the   boy   would’ve   caught   on   by   now   ,   no   ?   )   it’s   almost   a   cause   for   fondness   :      her   insanity   -   drenched   darling   ,      her   ever   loyal   fool.   with   his   hands   stained   so   bloody   ,      it’s   a   wonder   how   they   ever   wash   clean   ,      and   here   she’s   trained   them   ,      tamed   them   to   submission.   her   bared   throat   is   vulnerable   ,      her   closed   eyes   so   easy   to   catch   unawares   ,      but   there   is   no   power   like   knowledge   ,      and   she   knows   who   holds   dominion   here   ⸻   they   both   do.

         ❛         you   do   say   the   sweetest   things   to   me   ,      dear.         ❜         it   never   fails   to   surprise   her   ,      the   gentle   of   his   touch   ;      so   careful   as   to   not   break   even   a   single   strand   of   hair   on   her   head.   how   impossibly   delicate   of   a   scourge   of   mankind   like   him.   to   be   such   an   abomination   ⸻   if   only   for   the   way   he   loves   her.   but   however   pleasing   he   is   to   her   eyes   ,      and   patient   as   he   is   on   his   knees   ,      it’s   not   until   she   deems   his   words   worthwhile   that   she   offers   him   her   full   attentions.   a   cascade   of   red   curls   and   careless   of   the   sheets   slipping   lower   ,      her   eyes   are   bright   with   interest   where   she   turns   over   ,      finally   bringing   them   face   to   face   in   the   dim   light.         ❛         in   TOWN   ,   you   say   ?   and   i   haven’t   got   my   hands   on   it   yet   ,   why   ?         ❜         eyes   narrowing   to   match   the   accusation   in   her   voice   ,      her   once   over   of   him   is   thorough   ,      and   ultimately   displeased   with   what   she   finds.         ❛         you’ve   been   running   around   for   how   long   ,   and   you’re   telling   me   ‘twas   here   all   along   ?   ⸻   HERE   ?         ❜         what   was   it   about   this   wretch   of   a   town   that   attracted   the   things   and   people   it   did   ?   they   didn’t   even   have   a   building   taller   than   5   stories   ,   for   god’s   sake   !

those are hands that ache for a pale throat to squeeze  ,     long ,   thin ,    and impossibly smooth --- the untrained eye would never deem it capable of such vile inclinations  .   they’re kind of hands that could easily mold itself into the shape of your jaw  ,   covetous and greedy  ,   filling and empting you all at once ;     the kind of hands that bear no understanding of mercy ,     that’d dig its claws into your soft ,   tender flesh  and  take without ever giving back .     he smiles  ,    and something   primal and insidious    scratches just below the surface  ---  momentarily placated ,      but never quite dormant .     what would it not devour without rowena’s tight leash around its neck?  

he’s not done toying with her hair when she turns  ---   appearing like a ghost summoned by sheer will before him ,      or something worse --    and his dark brows instinctively descend in a crease of perpetual disappointment ,      like a wounded child that had its candy unexplicably taken away .    he looks into the flames of this complicated pleasure ,   slipping through the cracks unscattered ,     and the color that dwells in the strange glimmer of her eyes is that of a    green-eyed monster ,      green like bottle flies that feast on corpses on empty roads that lead nowhere  ,   and dead things ,     oozing and gently rotting away .    she stands apart from everything he’s ever seen ---     those hungry eyes so eager ,    and uptilted nose ,    she was even prettier than he remembers .    he pauses for a moment ,     to watch her within the safety of his confinements  ,       but cruelty always finds its back back into mouth .    “    hmm ...   but your hands have been    so very busy ,       i hear .     ”    sharp eyes swivel to latch onto part of her mouth  ,    gravitating towards her unearthly pull that keeps him bound .   there is  something undeniably cruel about his face just then :    how it smooths itself over its bony canvas ,   sweet and pale as cream .     “     i’d  hate   to burden them any further .    ”     velvety vocals smooth over carefully selected words ,     tempting her fury ;     each syllabe    drags itself across his tongue  ,      sticky - sweet and lethargic ,    as if it’d doused in syrup .      he holds the conversation hostage in this willing silence ,    allowing for it to linger as a subtle tormentor  ,       if for nothing else  ,      to savor her wrath .     “     don’t be upset ...      would it comfort you to know it was not here  all along ?      ”        nothing would to serve as comfort other than grasping that book in her hands ,      still he asks ,     and it almost sounds like a provokation .       “   admittedly ,     it needed some    incentive      to reach you in this sad little town  ,       ----  which i was   happy to provide .   of course .    "