reanimatedheart
Reanimated Heart
A horror romance visual novel about finding love in a strange small town.
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WELCOME, COMRADE
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heph heph hooray
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hey! i was writing a fanwork but got a little stuck so i wanted to ask, where does crux hang out the most frequently?
Hmm... His house in front of the computer, bars, house parties, church meetings, weird open Facebook events that only 5 people go to and they're really random (Mothman enthusiasts club, Grandma's knitting circles, sad little orgies -- throw any party and he's there).
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hii!! is it ok to draw fem black or crux ? really wanna see them rocking some honkers (im sorry for this phrase.)
Sure! You guys can do whatever you want, forever (as long as it's not illegal)
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What are your thoughts on fans commissioning works that include your characters (without claiming them as our own and/or making it clear that they're yours)? Never thought I'd be at a point of asking anyone this, but I love your blorbos and I'm afraid it's terminal. :'o)
Go ahead!! I would loooove to see them too :>!!!
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Black's the type of guy that would be like "I can take [slasher here]." No, baby, you CANNOT.
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out of curiosity, how would vin, crux and black react to the mc asking them to watch a horror movie with them? + would they prefer any particular sort of horror movie genre like slashers, monster movies etc?
Ohh, they'd love it!
Black, funnily enough, used to watch a lot of survival horror and slashers. He LOVES being the type of guy that yaps about "surviving" these scenarios, LMAO. "If it was me in this movie, I'd make a shelter near a lake and set up traps."
Vin and Crux both love artsy horror movies. Crux loves ones set in a forest or about cryptids (see: The Ritual). Vincenzo loves psychological horror, like mother! and Midsommar.
Fun fact: Crux's dad is a horror movie director, lol. He's been raised to be a horror buff.
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Thanks, guys, this was truly a trying experiment about how far we can accept the people we love.
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Loving the idea of crux in those horribly cringe couples shirts
Like these, anon?
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Perfect. wonderful shirts for my terrible girlfriend crux
Open invite for everyone to send me their godawful shirts so I can put it on him.
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i am . So whipped for crux it's not funny . how could u do this to my brain.... it's been rewired. only crux there
Fantastic time to whip out these t-shirts I drew for him!!
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sincerity
nsfw under the cut
"Just--ah- just a little longer, Ver. 'M almost done."
Verity shivered, her bare flesh prickling. Black moves around her slowly, his hands checking each knot, his brows furrowed. Verity knows him well enough to guess that he's making sure there's enough room between the silk cord and her skin. Tight enough to hold her, but not enough to cut off her circulation.
Satisfied, Black sits back on his heels behind her.
"I'm gonna raise you up now, alright? Tell me if you feel like you're gonna fall."
Verity twists her head back as far as she can to look at him. With her hands and elbows bound together at her back and her legs hitched up to her chest, secured at the knees and ankles, it's tricky. She manages to catch his eye though and smiles.
"I'm ready for you, Black."
Verity hears the click of steel toed boots on the tiled kitchen floor. It was the only room in Black's cottage that had the space for the ceiling hooks and rigging required to do this. Black pulls hard on the loose ends of the ropes and Verity is lifted slowly off of the floor. Cold air tickles the backs of her thighs. The slight friction of the ropes on her skin has Verity almost whimpering already. Suspended from Black's ceiling, naked and exposed to him completely, Verity feels herself getting wet. Black has barely touched her all night, his attention fixed on securing her firmly, wrapping her body up and bending her into the position he liked best.
Verity feels a whisper of cold breath on her neck. Black slides one hand over her back, gently rubbing the places that are already sore from being tied in one pose for so long. When he circles around to face her, Verity sees his eyes are blood red with pupils blown wide. He's panting.
Black grips both sides of Verity's face in his hands and kisses her, slowly. Deeply. Licking the inside of her mouth, he teases a moan from her lips. After a long moment, he pulls back, his lips wet.
"You're fucking mine."
~
It's not like they haven't fucked before. Actually, sometimes Black feels like they do it too much, feels like he has to pull back and show some goddamn restraint. Not because he wants to, but because he has learned that Verity is nearly as insatiable as he is. Someone has to be responsible...right?
This though...this is completely different.
Verity hangs suspended from the ceiling in his kitchen. Her pale, lush body is bound with silk cord, bright candy apple red rope keeping her limbs restrained. The rope bites into the soft flesh of her thighs and breasts. She is swaying gently, the pale curtain of her hair covering her face.
This, Black thinks, must be what heaven feels like.
He takes that back about twenty minutes later. As Black gently tugs on a fistful of Verity's hair to pull her face to his, he sees her tearstained cheeks and it hits him like a gut punch. This is heaven. Tenderly, Black caresses her face. He gathers up her tears on the pads of his fingers and licks them clean. The salt tears mingle with the taste of her cunt still on his fingertips.
"Shit," he murmurs. "You're so fucking good, Ver..."
Black walks slowly around Verity, trailing a hand over her body as he does. Occasionally he touches where he knows she's sensitive; rolling her pierced nipples in his hands or lightly scratching over her thighs with his nails. The breathy noises Verity makes in response have Black torn between the urge to cut her down and fuck her there on the floor, bullying his dick deep inside her until she's begging him to let her cum, or take her to his bed and lavish her needy cunt with his tongue until she's sobbing his name.
"Please..."
The whimpered plea makes Black's heart pound. Hands shaking, he grips both of her legs and kisses the backs of her thighs up where they meet the heart shaped swell of her bottom. It's so hard not to bite her. Black can feel the heat of Verity's blood beneath her skin, the slight tremors of her muscles as they stretch and contract to accommodate his unrelenting touch.
"What, baby?" His voice is hoarse.
She's shaking. "Please," Verity chokes out, "I can't-I need--"
Black's safety shears cut through the cords with ease. He takes Verity into his arms, holding her tightly. He walks them to the bathroom and sits Verity on the edge of his bathtub. As he carefully cuts the rope from her limbs, Black whispers soothing words to his sweet girl.
"Y'did so good, Ver. You were perfect."
As soon as her hands are free, Verity hugs Black. Her body slumps over his broad chest. Her heart is so loud.
"Black...I still...I wanna cum."
Black smiles, rubbing circles on her back.
"Again? I thought you'd be tired by now."
He feels Verity shake her head. In a tiny voice, she says,
"I wanna make you feel good, too."
Black hums. He reaches behind Verity to turn on the hot water and lets it run into the bathtub. While the ancient plumbing heats up, he sits on the lid of the toilet and sets Verity in his lap. As he leans back, he smiles up at her. That's all Verity needs.
Slender hands undo Black's belt and pull his cock from his black boxers. He's been hard the whole night--but Black is used to it. He can wait for hours as long as he's got Verity worked up and crying from his touch. Still--the hot slide of her pussy against him gets Black moaning. Verity goes slowly, inch by inch, only bottoming out once Black is already gripping her hips with enough force to leave imprints.
"Fuck."
Black lets Verity set the pace, much as he want to fuck into her roughly. She grinds her hips down into his pelvis, dragging her swollen clit over the plane of his groin. Black traces his fingers over the slight bulge in her stomach. White-hot pride fills him, and a terrifying urge to claim her forever. That dark heart of his- it wants to keep Verity chained here forever, tethered to him, only free to let him devote all his being to her worship.
Black cums hard, crushing Verity to his chest. He can feel the flutter of her cunt around his dick, the squeeze of her muscles proof of her orgasm. It's almost painful. He wants to tell her he loves her. He wants to take her again, pinning her to the wall and pounding each cursed word of the phrase into her body. I love you.
But he doesn't. Instead, Black pulls out. He takes them both to the hot bath and washes Verity with care. He lets her kiss him, soft loving kisses that make him want to live inside her. He lets Verity wash and comb his hair, and when they finish he dries her feet with a towel.
He doesn't tell her he loves her.
She knows it anyway.
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low-key afraid to know but just how gross is cruxs laptop keyboard
Oh, this information is gore, anon.
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and what if i asked crux to put his cigarette out on me. what would happen
He will lean super close, take your wrist, blow smoke into your face, and put his cigarette out on your arm while grinning approvingly. He'll kiss it while it's stinging.
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What titles do the LIs prefer? 🤔 (ex: gf, bf, partner, husband, spouse, wife, etc.)
BF/Husband/Partner is good for all of them. Vin loves GF/Wife too. Crux loves being referred to as girlfriend for some reason lmao.
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woops
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everything i wanted (black/verity)
NSFW under the cut
"It's two hundred bullions for a single bed, dear."
The motel manager holds her hand out. Black takes a moment to process the words. Single bed. Single. Bed. He's vodka drunk and can't help the way he wrinkles his nose at the squat woman's perfume: heady lavender and cedar. It smells like a funeral home.
Single. Bed.
It finally clicks and Black instantly flushes, a greyed out pink colouring his cheeks and ears. Verity is right next to him and she's too buzzed to pay attention, wobbling to and fro on her blocky heeled boots. Black shuts his eyes briefly against the images that come to mind when his brain treacherously repeats the words,
"Single bed."
The mental picture of Verity grabbing his hand and leading him down a narrow hallway to a room with a single bed fill Black's mind. She has soft hands, he knows. He wishes he didn't know what her skin feels like.
"Uh, is there a double room available?"
The motel manager squints at him but nods and Black pays the extra money just to get away from her. Verity doesn't grab his hand. She does trail after him though, a wayward kitten following in his wake.
They talk after that, side by side on the two creaky beds in the dark. It's....nice. It would be nicer if Black could concentrate. He can hear every breath Verity takes, the sound of her throat as she swallows, the beating of her heart. He'd expected, hoped even, to hear a fast pulse, the sound of fear or anticipation. But Verity's heart is steady. Black wonders what it takes to make her heart race.
He can also feel her, though they do not touch. She's warm, warm enough that he knows she'd be hot to the touch and even hotter inside. The air that comes out of her lungs is hot, the blood that courses through her arteries is hot, she is all summer heat and tender, edible flesh.
It's funny. Black can't remember the taste of beef or chicken. Even fish he'd given up, in his old life. Yet the sweet and toothsome bite of human meat-- that is fresh in his mind.
Verity falls asleep next to him in the dark. It's a relief once her black eyes close. It's...strange for Black to be so seen by someone. Whenever he's around Verity he feels stripped bare and defenseless. New emotions bubble up inside him, flashes of brutal longing he's never felt. Is it this new body? What is the difference between lust and appetite?
Black doesn't sleep, not really. He drifts in and out of wakefulness, lulled into a dreamlike meditation by the soft drumming of Verity's heart. She's so close to him. So weak. It makes him angry, how much this girl trusts him. Black imagines her trusting other people, worse people, and feels his bones creak as his fist curls.
Within microseconds of sleep, Black dreams. His hands digging into soft, creamy flesh. The sound of skin on skin. Soft cries only he can hear, and the plush feeling of Verity around him. Warmth. Wetness. A tender, bloodless pleasure. Black feels the familiar sensation of hunger as he drives into Verity and he tries to quell it, pulling away, showing restraint. In answer to this Verity holds him tighter, bares her throat to him. Calls out his name. Black can't--he can't let himself give in to the urge to feast. So instead he fucks his hunger into her, pouring out every last drop of violence in sweet devotion to her body. Verity brings her hands up to wrap around his neck, stroking his hair gently even as he is thrusting harder inside of her cunt. Her eyes are open.
"Wake up," she says.
It's early dawn when Verity finds Black outside the motel, sitting in the green truck. Black is already fighting the twin feelings of disgust and starvation when she raps twice on the window. Reluctantly Black unlocks the doors and lets her slide into the passenger seat. Her proximity to himself and his breakfast causes a surge of regret and shame in him. He's already putting the meat back in the cooler when Verity puts a gentle hand on his to stop him.
"It's okay," she says, and for once, Black believes it. But he still can't bring himself to eat like this in front of her. There's too much tension between them, too little air. The truck cabin might as well be a coffin for how closed off it feels. Then--
"Here, Black. Let me help."
Verity holds a freezer burned piece of human flesh up to Black's lips. Her dark eyes are focused intently on his red ones. He can't look away. Verity must take his surprise for hesitation because she blushes and says,
"You have to eat. Please?"
It is stupidly erotic, the sensation of his lips closing around Verity's fingers. Black barely registers the flavour of the meat he's being fed. All he can taste is sweetness, salty skin, jasmine scented oil left from the hotel soap. Verity is holding the piece of flesh between her fingers and Black allows himself the indulgence of licking the remaining blood and gristle off of her fingertips. Verity's pupils blow out wide in response and once again that dangerous corner of Black's mind imagines how it would feel to grab the back of her neck and slant his lips over hers right there. What would she taste like? If Black reached for Verity now, dug his nails into the curve of her ass and dragged her over the center console to fuck her in the backseat, how would Verity react? Black imagines Verity as she is now, still sleepy with her long pale hair loose over her shoulders and pictures her beneath him, sobbing in pleasure. He pictures the shaky moans she might make for him as he drags his tongue over her cunt, her thighs around his head and her nails scratching the green upholstery of the truck.
Black thinks he might end up actually losing his mind one day. He thinks for a moment that Verity deserves someone normal, someone good. But the unwanted thought of Verity under some other person, her tears and her sweet noises made for someone else, render Black immeasurably angry. Angry at that hypothetical person for touching Verity, angry with himself for wishing he could be that person, angry that he can't be. Not ever.
Black finishes his bite. Verity's fingers are still in his mouth. Her face is bright red, her eyes shiny. They both pull back at the same time, palpable tension in the air. Black hands Verity a napkin from the center console and she takes it gratefully. She moves to start cleaning her hand and Black turns away, looking out the window. In the rear view mirror he watches in stunned silence as Verity brings her fingers to her lips. The pink tip of her tongue touches the tip of her finger, the one that had just seconds ago been inside Black's mouth.
After dropping Verity back at Grete's house, Black drives in circles for an hour. When he drops the truck off again at Crux's place it's with a muttered apology and 100 bullions for the broken steering wheel.
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Verity Heart, accidental Evergreen Hollow resident.
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