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#Carfax Manor
cherienymphe · 2 years
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My Soul To Take (Walter DeVille/Dracula x Reader)
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WARNINGS: NON-CON, mentions of murder, blood
➥ banner by @maysdigitalarts​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ ​​​​​​​​|  ➥ divider by @silkholland​​​
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summary: the search for your missing sister puts you right at Carfax Estate and in the clutches of the lord of the manor.
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The cab was slow to pull into the impressive driveway, and you were taken aback by the even more impressive mansion. Or manor. You didn’t know if there was a difference, and if there was, if it even mattered. You tipped the man well, lips parted as you got out and looked around. It was apparent that you were out of your element, but you didn’t care.
Your sister’s wellbeing depended on it.
With a bit of reluctance and a deep breath, you knocked on the door. With as large as this place was, you wondered if anyone would even hear you. However, with as large as this place was, you didn’t doubt there were butlers or maids walking around. Someone had to answer the door.
You were just about to lift your fist again when the grand door swung open. You were greeted by an older man, countenance stern with his lips pressed together. He didn’t look the happiest to see you, and for a moment you’d almost forgotten why you were here. You cleared your throat, reaching into your purse.
“Hi,” you awkwardly greeted. “I’m sorry to disturb you…”
You trailed off with a light scoff before shaking your head.
“Actually, I’m not sorry,” you corrected yourself, and the man’s eyebrows rose. “My sister is missing, and this was the last residency the maid service sent her.”
You pulled out a few pictures of her, but before you could even get them sorted good, the man before you spoke.
“I am sorry, but we don’t know anything about a missing girl,” he sternly told you.
You frowned and reared back a bit. Both his tone and his expression left no room for argument, but you ignored that. With a huff, you forced the pictures into his hand despite his visible discomfort.
“If you could just look at them just for a moment and tell me if she even ever showed-.”
“Miss-.”
“I understand that whoever you work for,” you gestured to the extravagance of it all “doesn’t want to be tied to a missing person, but I don’t care. I need to find her, and if you could at least tell me if you remember her then that would be very helpful.”
The man seemed like he was gearing up to refuse you again when another voice interrupted him from over his shoulder. The older man’s expression fell a bit, and you didn’t miss how much more subdued he seemed at the arrival of this new person. Before the man was even revealed to you, you guessed that this was his boss.
When he came into view, your lips parted.
Calling him handsome seemed like such a disservice. The grandest of understatements, but you lacked the proper vocabulary at the moment. His features were so sharp, face sculpted in a way that was almost uncomfortably handsome. Inhuman. His dark hair was so neat, and it only made his blue eyes stand out even more, pink lips pulled into a small, crooked smile as his gaze met yours.
He drank you in slowly, as if trying to memorize every detail of you, and your heart skipped a beat.
“Uh…hi…”
“Hi,” he slowly replied, a twinkle in his blue gaze.
“Do you…? Are you the…?”
He seemed to understand what you were trying to say.
“I am the lord of this manor, yes,” he replied with a perfect grin, hands sliding into his pockets.
You nodded.
“I was just telling your…friend that my sister is missing, and I need help finding her. Desperately,” you added.
His features smoothly shifted, brows furrowing, and face pinched in concern.
“Well, that’s terrible. Please, come in,” he urgently told you, reaching out to gently place his hand on your arm as he guided you through the threshold.
The door was loud as it shut behind you, and you blew out a breath at the realization that the inside was probably even more impressive than the outside. You could hear the two of them talking, and when you turned around to face him, the older gentleman was handing the other your pictures. He was gone without so much as another glance at you, and you grimaced.
As you watched him flip through and study each photo, you spoke.
“She works for a maid service, but… She has been known to pick up the odd job here and there on her own,” you sighed. “Which makes my job a little bit harder, but this was the last place I knew her to be.”
He glanced up at you at that, head still facing the pictures in his hand as he peeked at you from beneath his lashes.
“It was the last place the service sent her, and she could’ve easily gone on to do five more jobs after this, but I figured this is where I needed to start. Just to see if she even showed or if any of you remember her?”
He stared at you for a painfully long time before his gaze fell to the pictures again. He hummed, tilting his head, and you became hopeful.
“I remember her quite well,” he eventually said, and your sigh of relief was loud.
“Oh my God,” you breathed, stumbling towards him. “Did-did she say where she was going after this? Did she stay the whole shift or event?”
There was another question that you didn’t voice.
Did she even leave?
“She worked the entire event, yes,” he eventually replied, handing the pictures back to you. “I remember how much I admired her work ethic. She left with the rest, but she did mention another job to one of the other maids.”
He continued before you could ask him about that.
“She didn’t say where.”
Your face fell, and he tilted his head at you, curiously eyeing you.
“Walter DeVille,” he finally introduced himself, a hand extended.
You weakly shook it, fighting back tears as you belatedly introduced yourself. You were just about to thank him for what little he could do when his next words shocked you.
“If you’ll accept, please allow me to help you in any way that I can…”
You blinked at him, and he stepped closer.
“I have so many resources at my fingertips, and she worked for me. It doesn’t matter that it was only one time, but it wouldn’t sit right with me to do nothing when I could do so much,” he elaborated.
“Are…are you serious?”
You were somewhat in disbelief, but the smile that graced his pink lips put you at ease.
“As a heart attack,” he smoothly replied, pearly whites winking at you. “I can tell she means a lot to you.”
“She does,” you softly confirmed, and his smile turned sad.
“I take it you’re staying at some dreadfully mundane hotel or something?” he wondered, looking around before his gaze fell back to you.
You chuckled at that with a nod.
“The minute her silence went on a little too long, I took the earliest flight I could get and whatever room was available,” you told him.
He had started to walk, and you found yourself following him.
“That must be costing you a fortune,” he surmised.
He wasn’t wrong, and you confirmed it.
“By all means, allow me to open my home up to you during the search,” he offered.
You’d only known the man for mere minutes, and his ability to shock you over and over was a talent.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” you laughed him off, but he didn’t join you.
He slowed to a stop when you did, and you frowned at him.
“I feel compelled to help you and your sister, and…it seems silly and almost cruel to let you shell out money for some mediocre motel when you could get great service and accommodations here for free.”
It was like the man knew you were broke, and perhaps he did with one look at you. It didn’t seem smart in a safety sense, but eventually your money would run out and then where would you stay while you searched for your sister? There was no telling how long this would take.
Besides, some part of you recognized that it was his misplaced guilt talking. He clearly felt some moral responsibility to help you, a desire to find your sister that could probably rival yours. After all, the man was evidently important, and it was easy to guess that he didn’t want her disappearance to be connected to his name, at all even if just in passing.
Before you could stop yourself, you were saying ‘yes’.
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“Oh, you really don’t have to do that…”
You trailed off, hand falling with a sigh as the older woman waved you off. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to having someone tend to you in this way, and you had to remind yourself that you couldn’t get used to it. This wasn’t a permanent situation, no matter how much Mr. DeVille was going out of his way to make you feel right at home.
You silently reminded yourself that he preferred you call him Walt.
“Nonsense, dear,” Mrs. Swift told you, opening your curtains. “You’re dealing with so much already and…all things considered, it’s the least I can do.”
She avoided your gaze as she said this, and you nodded.
An entire week had gone by, and there was still no sign of your sister’s whereabouts. You had expressed concern about the lack of newspaper ads or any sort of media coverage, but Walt had eased your worries.
“With the influence I have, trust me that I’m doing more than the average police ever could,” he’d told you.
You had witnessed his phone calls and emails of him reaching out yourself, so you believed him. The more time passed, the more your worry grew, and the optimist in you was slowly starting to lose hope. You had to remind yourself that that wasn’t an option though. You had to find her because the alternative was too much to consider.
You ate breakfast alone as you often did here, but you weren’t bothered by it. Walt had joined you one day, and although he mostly picked at his food and sipped his drink, you appreciated the company. He made you feel better about all of this and even served to take your mind off of things for a while.
It was the third day in a row that you decided to walk the grounds. Some days you assisted Walt in helping locate your sister, but sometimes you felt like you were more a hinderance than anything. The man just seemed to have everything covered so well that it made you feel useless, and when you brought up going out and seeing if anyone had seen her, he’d been adamantly against it.
“A lone woman going door to door in a strange neighborhood to locate her missing sister? I feel bad enough that she’s nowhere to be found. I don’t think I could take it if you winded up in the same boat,” he’d sweetly told you.
It was cool out, a soft breeze making you shudder, and you wrapped your arms around yourself. With slow steps, you found yourself heading towards what Walt had described as the icehouse. He hadn’t taken you inside, and you’d been thankful. You had been cold enough as it was.
The distance from the manor didn’t seem like that much until you looked back. You felt so…isolated out here, and you found yourself eyeing the structure in wonder. You weren’t exactly sure why, but with nothing else to do, you wrote it off as simple curiosity. While there were some places in the manor that Walt had expressed were off limits, which was more than fine with you, he hadn’t explicitly said anything about the icehouse.
With a hum, you reached for the door.
“There you are.”
His voice startled you, and you turned to look at him with a smile. Walt was nearing you with a smile of his own, the sun glinting off of his cerulean gaze, and you forgot about the icehouse entirely.
“Mrs. Swift told me that you were busy in your office, so I came out here after breakfast,” you told him. “I figured it had to do with my sister, and you are practically a hero when it comes to that while I feel so…useless.”
He let out a soft chuckle at that, the sound twisting warmly deep in your gut.
“Useless? Never,” he purred, reaching for your hand. “I wouldn’t have nearly as much information about her to pass along if it weren’t for you.”
“Well, I suppose that does make me feel a little better,” you quietly relented.
You could feel his gaze on your face, and you looked at him to confirm your suspicions. It really was almost terrifying how beautiful Walt was, and you once again had the stray thought that you were shocked he wasn’t married or at the very least in a relationship.
“What?” you asked him.
“You really love her,” he said, almost in awe.
His brows were drawn together as he studied you, and you gave an awkward laugh.
“Of course. She’s all I have left…”
He didn’t respond to that, simply staring you down with a look you couldn’t name. Eventually, the corner of his lips curved upwards into the faintest of smirks before he pulled you along.
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It was nighttime, yes, but it never unsettled you just how dark the manor was during these hours. The sheer size of it didn’t help things, and a simple trek for a glass of water felt like a maze straight out of a horror film. Weeks had gone by, and your sister’s absence was more obvious than ever, but that wasn’t the only thing that kept you up at night.
“This manor isn’t haunted, is it?” you’d asked Walt one day, and he’d laughed at you.
A real genuine laugh like you’d just told him a joke, and he had fondly looked at you like one would a silly child.
“I know it’s old, but no,” he’d drawled. “Certainly not haunted. I would know.”
That was what he’d said, anyway.
However, your disturbed sleep said otherwise. Either that or maybe the situation with your sister was finally getting to you. In truth, you had never really processed it, just sort of pushed it away. There was a very real possibility that something had happened to your sister, but you never wanted to think about it.
However, you knew that had nothing to do with the creaking you heard on the floors above you. Nor the way you’d wake up in the middle of the night with the overwhelming feeling of being watched. It got so bad that sometimes you had to turn your lamp on just to sleep.
You had never brought it up again. For one thing, you didn’t want to seem childish, but also because Walt was doing so much for you already. Between helping you locate your sister and letting you stay here, you didn’t want to take a mile when he gave you an inch.
And that was why you found yourself struggling to get a simple glass of water. You kept looking over your shoulder, legs shaky with every step you took. You knew that you were just being paranoid, confirmed when you turned the corner and walked headfirst into someone, bringing forth the kind of scream that would’ve embarrassed you if you weren’t so scared.
“Woah, hey…hey, it’s me…”
The voice was familiar and comforting, and you placed a hand on your chest. It did little to settle down your heart, and you struggled to see Walt in the dark.
“I’m sorry,” you breathed, and Walt rested his hands on your arms. “You scared me.”
“I can see that,” he teased, attempting to lighten the situation. “What are you doing out of your room?”
His question struck you as odd, but you brushed it off.
“I was thirsty, and despite how much this place scares me at night, my need for water won.”
He chuckled at that, teeth visible in the dark.
“I’ll come with you then, keep the monsters away,” he told you.
You laughed at his joke, and a stab of guilt hit you. Sometimes you felt like you shouldn’t be enjoying yourself, at all with your sister still missing, but Walt made it hard. You felt much more at ease with him by your side as you got your water and went back to your room. His arm brushed yours with every step, and occasionally you’d glance up to already find his gaze on you.
“Why do you do that?” you finally asked him.
You were able to see his face more clearly thanks to the glow of your lamp coming from your room. He raised his brows at you and leaned against the wall in a way that had you shifting on your feet.
“Whatever do you mean?” he wondered, tone teasing.
You rolled your eyes with a slight huff.
“You know what…”
When he continued to play dumb, you continued.
“Stare at me like that,” you said.
He moved closer, brows drawn together now.
“Like what? Like I think you’re beautiful…?”
His words shook you, and you opened and closed your mouth, unsure of how to respond.
“…because you are. You and your sister have that in common,” he complimented.
It was sweet to say, and you were surprised by the level of emotion that overcame you at the mention of her. A few tears had escaped before you realized, and Walt’s fingers beat yours, brushing them away with a soothing sound.
“Hey… I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t mean to-.”
“It’s fine. You didn’t do anything wrong,” you assured him. “I just really miss her and…I need her to be okay.”
You took a few gulps of water, and Walt hummed.
“Tell me about her, things that can’t be put in an email or on a piece of paper,” he suggested. “What was she like?”
You were in your room now, and you sank down onto the bed with a sigh.
“Brave,” that was the first thing you said. “I swear it was like she didn’t fear anything.”
His expression was even as he listened to you, and he moved to sit down beside you.
“…and even if she was afraid, she was going to face whatever it was head on.”
Your voice cracked, and you frowned.
“I don’t even want to consider the impossible, I don’t, but…if something did happen to her, I know that she fought like hell.”
Walt glanced down at that, a soft sigh escaping him before he lifted his gaze to you with a smile. He reached up to place a hand on your cheek, thumb comfortingly brushing along your skin.
“Don’t think like that,” he said. “Wherever she is, I’m sure she’s fine.”
His words didn’t reassure you much, but you nodded anyway. He helped you into bed, and you sent him a grateful smile. He seemed reluctant to leave the lamp on when you asked him too, but after some time, he relented and closed the door on his way out.
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It was your second month at the Carfax Estate when you started to get…antsy. Perhaps that wasn’t the right word, but the same sentiments applied. You saw with your own eyes how hard Walt worked to find your sister, and yet…you felt like nothing was actually happening.
The thought seemed unfair to you. After all, it wasn’t as if Walt merely existed to search for your sister. He did have a life of his own before you came along, and that wasn’t going to stop just because of your presence. However, you remembered the last time you asked for a more detailed update or any kind of evidence of what he’d found so far, and how you’d been….brushed off?
Again, your wording didn’t seem right, but you didn’t know what else to call it. He had immediately brought up something that wasn’t quite relevant before the conversation shifted onto another topic entirely. You hadn’t even remembered that you’d been expecting an answer to your question until hours later. It seemed odd, and while you didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, this whole situation was starting to become strange.
Especially when you suggested leaving.
“I’m starting to feel like I’m taking advantage, especially when I don’t seem to be actually contributing to anything,” you had said.
Walt had been as calm as ever as he rounded his desk, taking your face into his hands.
“Nonsense,” he had replied. “I am not letting you leave until we find your sister.”
It was sweet in theory, but the idea that he wasn’t ‘letting’ you make that choice didn’t sit well with you. That uneasiness only grew when you actually did try to leave one day. Just to go into town and ask around about her. Your cellphone hadn’t been able to work to even call a cab, and when you asked about a landline, Mr. Fields told you that the phone lines were being worked on.
You had frowned at that, but before you could ask about it any further, the older man had left you. Anytime you brought the topic up after that, it seemed like you were always steered in another direction. Walt would tilt his head at you, the faintest of smiles on his lips, and he’d touch you in some way that both comforted and excited you before sending you along like a placated child.
It left a bad taste in your mouth.
The night your rose-colored glasses cracked was a night in which you couldn’t sleep. The manor was just too quiet in a way that felt suffocating. You’d been gazing out of your window and into the night when you saw a figure coming out of the icehouse. It didn’t take long to recognize the figure as Mr. Fields, but this simple action wasn’t what made your heart sink.
It was the large shape he seemed to be dragging out of the structure with him.
Your frown had deepened, and you would’ve pressed your face further against the window if it were possible. Whatever it was didn’t seem heavy enough to give him difficulty, but certainly heavy and large enough to be unable to just…carry. Worst of all, you swore your mind was playing tricks on you because the shaped looked an awful lot like a body.
It was after that when you started to notice things you’d brushed off before. Like the way the only familiar permanent staff members were Mr. Fields and Mrs. Swift, any other maid or server or cook not staying long enough to fully remember. The faint thuds and footsteps you would hear throughout all hours of the night that you’d convinced yourself came from outside.
Even Walt, with his charismatic eyes and blinding smile, had managed to tell you practically nothing about himself while making it seem like he’d told you a memoir worth. And sure. You heard him on the phone and saw him typing out emails, but who was he really talking to? Sending them to? This situation was starting to seem less and less cozy.
It was 4:30 in the morning when you decided to go for a jog around the property. God knows it was large enough, but you also had a need to clear your head. You were approaching the icehouse when you found yourself slowing to a stop. You thought about that night you saw Mr. Fields, and you also thought about how you’d never been inside.
Granted, you had never voiced a desire to, but Walt had also never even offered.
With a sigh, you paused your music, turning the brightness up on your phone before carefully opening the door. You were surprised that it wasn’t locked, and realizing that your brightness wasn’t enough, you turned on the flashlight. It looked as ordinary as one would expect, and you scrunched your nose at the faint smell of something you couldn’t quite place.
You shined the light around, taking it all in with an even expression, starting to convince yourself that everything was all in your head. You pressed your hand to your forehead, chuckling to yourself at how silly you were being when your light caught something that stuck out to you. Whatever it was, it glinted, and you moved closer to it.
You shined your light on it…and froze.
There, at your feet, was a familiar white gold necklace. It was a simple 18-inch white gold rope chain. The pendant was a white gold heart with a blue sapphire stone in the middle. You knew that because you’d bought it. You knew that because it was your sister’s.
And perhaps you would’ve come up with another reason as to why it was there. Perhaps you would’ve told yourself that it had simply fallen off during her shift here maybe when she came out here to get something or put something away. Maybe it had fallen off somewhere else and some animal carried it in here. You would’ve told yourself that…
If it wasn’t for the dried blood.
All of the air in your lungs seemed to leave you.
You reached for it, suddenly very much aware of how alone you were out here. With shaky hands, you put it into your pocket, and exited the structure. The severity of what this meant wasn’t lost on you, and you struggled to keep your food down. You furiously blinked before slowly closing the door.
You walked back to the manor on autopilot. There was a loud ringing in your ear, and your mind was going a mile a minute. Her necklace felt so incredibly heavy in your pocket, and despite the turmoil going on inside of you, your expression was even when you came face to face with Walt the moment you stepped inside.
“Walt,” you breathed, a soft smile crawling onto your lips. “Going for a jog too?”
It was a silly question. The man wasn’t dressed for one. His blue eyes danced over you as a smile of his own graced his lips, gaze fond as he stared at you. You watched his nostrils flare slightly, and he hummed.
“No, I’m not much for jogging. At least, not like you are.”
“Shame,” you chuckled, walking past him. “It’s so cool out. That’s the best time to go.”
He didn’t follow, and you looked over your shoulder at him. He stood by the door with his hands in his pockets, gazing at you like he was looking right through you. You swallowed and wished him a good night, and when he did the same, you wanted to be sick.
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“Your dedication to your sister is commendable.”
Those were the words you woke up to, startling awake with a gasp. The room was dark seeing as you’d forgotten to leave the lamp on. Or had you? It didn’t really matter, you supposed, and one glance around the room revealed a shape in the chair across from your bed that wasn’t supposed to be there. You hurried to turn the lamp on, and when light flooded the room, you almost wished you’d left it off.
Walt lounged in the fancy chair before you, one leg thrown over the other as he simply…stared at you. His expression portrayed one of amusement, and your heart raced for more reasons than one. Your decision to rest for a few hours before coming up with a plan to get the hell out of here and to the police was clearly the wrong one. You were sure that Walter DeVille was a murderer, or at least covering up for one, and here he was watching you sleep.
You didn’t like being so close to him, and you liked the way he eyed you even less.
Your lips parted when he held up his hand, a familiar necklace dangling from it. He eyed it with a hum, raking his gaze over it, and a few tears spilled over. You didn’t know if you were just that blind or if he was just that good, but it took a truly sick man to pretend to help you like he had. God, he’d even comforted you whenever you worried about your sister, and the whole time…
As you watched him eye her necklace, you wondered how he even found it.
“I blame myself,” he eventually said, confusing you. “If only I had done a better job of vetting her…”
You frowned at his words.
“I like to make sure there are no relatives or concerned friends or loving partners who will come looking,” he continued. “It makes all of this go…so much smoother.”
You were starting to understand what he was hinting at, and you wanted to be sick.
“So imagine my shock…and eventual elation when you turned up on my doorstep,” he hummed, looking at you again. “So…fiery. So determined to bulldoze anyone in your way who’d prevent you from finding her.”
You sat up more, and he stood, making you freeze.
“Even for me, it seemed rather…cruel to toy with you like I did, and I considered a number of ways to simply send you on your way,” he sighed. “…but then you got curious and suspicious…and here we are.”
“What did you do to her?” you finally forced out, voice shaky and tone angry.
He grinned at you, and your eyes were glued to the sharpness of his canines. Your frown deepened, disbelief filling you.
“She served me well and went quickly. That’s all that matters.”
His answer sickened you, and you made another move when he moved closer, and you eyed each side of the bed. The situation you found yourself in wasn’t lost on you, and more tears escaped.
“…and while I’m not quite sure what I’m eventually going to do with you…”
You looked back to him at that, watching as he placed the palms of his hands on the end of the mattress. You eyed the length of his nails, brows furrowing at their sudden change.
“That is a bridge I shall cross when I get there.”
He slid his hands further, and you moved back. You felt the headboard behind you. His grin widened, expression sinister and eyes gleaming.
“As for tonight…”
The scream you let out was blood-curdling, feet kicking as he grabbed your ankles. You reached out to grab onto anything as he yanked you down, and your hand hit the lamp. It fell to the ground with a loud shatter, the room bathed in darkness once again. You fought against someone you could barely see, blindly kicking and hitting. Only half of them connected.
By the time he had your hands pinned beside your head, you were sobbing, chest heaving. He shushed you, voice sounding as gentle as it always did, but you knew it was a lie. He was a lie. The sweet and charming man that you had even grown to like did not exist. Instead, a murderer sat in his place, and you pushed against his hold. When that proved fruitless, you let out another scream.
It died pathetically into another fit of sobs.
“No one will hear you, darling,” he purred, gently kissing your mouth. “…and even if they did, they would not help you. I am not the one who disposes of my messes.”
You already knew that, accepting that you really saw that night, and you cried harder.
“We were getting along so well, weren’t we? Hmm?”
He kissed down your face, lingering at your throat before he opened his mouth, grazing his teeth over your skin. You shuddered beneath him, and Walt hummed.
“That was before I knew you murdered my sister,” you spat.
He moved your wrists, forcing them together before pinning them above your head with one hand. You struggle was useless, Walt a thousand times stronger than he looked. His free hand danced down your front, fingers tapping against your nightgown as he exhaled.
“Murder is such a harsh word… It was necessary, I assure you. After all, I have to eat too, right?”
He chuckled at his own words, and your brain fought to deny what it had long figured out. He kissed your throat again, fingers sliding up your leg and beneath the smooth fabric. He giddily hummed when his fingers brushed over you, and before you could scream again, the sharpest pain imaginable could be felt at your throat.
A choked gasp escaped you, eyes widening and rolling at the feel of his teeth in your skin. You bucked against him, pain and pleasure warring within you, and Walt pinned your body down with his. He snarled against your throat, the feel making you yelp, and your hands struggled to release themselves from his grip.
His other hand was busy, successful even when cool air met your skin. You felt yourself growing weak beneath him, and by the time he pulled away, you could barely muster the strength to fight him. He kissed you, lips soft and bloody, and you cringed at the taste of yourself.
You could feel the tip of him poking at you, and when he pushed his way inside of you, it was slow and torturous. He groaned at the feel, and you gasped, head thrown back and arms straining. He buried his face into your neck when he sheathed himself inside of you to the hilt, basking in the feel of you wrapped around him.
His free hand ran down your body, happily touching your skin. Walt pulled his hips back until only the tip of him remained before thrusting into you again. His pace was slow and purposeful, and his free hand found its way to your face, turning your head to face him so that he could kiss you again. His lips hungrily moved against yours, teeth nipping at them and tongue seeking yours out.
He took his time fucking you, with you pinned beneath him and no means to fight him off, he clearly saw no reason to rush. And he was right. No one would hear you, and those who could, wouldn’t care. You wondered if your sister went through something similar, or if he simply drained her dry like nothing more than cattle. The thought brought forth more tears, and Walt heard you.
“Hush now,” he purred, kissing your cheeks. “Everything is out in the open with us.”
You felt his nails digging into your thigh as he forced it along his waist, hips pressing against yours repeatedly. He slid in and out of you with ease, and you squeezed your eyes shut as you fought back a moan.
“No more secrets, and no more lies.”
He talked as if they had been little white lies instead of the murder of your sister and his true nature. He laved his tongue against your neck, tasting the excess blood before biting you again. You gasped, wrists sore from his tight hold, eyes open and focused on the ceiling now. He hummed into your skin before moving his mouth downwards.
When his teeth sank into your breast, you weren’t able to hold it in anymore. A shaky moan escaped your lips, followed by a stronger one, and you clenched around him. He moaned too, pulling his head away before pressing open mouthed kisses along your skin. Every thrust made you shake, and the tears that escaped now, you didn’t know if they were from pain or pleasure.
This man was the devil.
He was making you feel things that you didn’t want to feel. He was forcing sounds out of you that you didn’t even know was possible, and you hated him all the more for it. He was your sister’s killer…and he was fucking you like his life depended on it. You didn’t know if you’d live to see tomorrow, or if you’d even live to see the next 30 minutes. A large part of you didn’t want to.
After all, he was the reason you were alone in the world, and you silently prayed that the next time he sank his fangs into you, he’d just drain you dry.
~
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@maskmare931​​​ @honeybear-yammy​​
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see-arcane · 2 years
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Knowing what I know about how Jonathan and Mina’s ride-or-die romance flexes itself later on in the book, it always makes me wonder what would have happened if, somehow, Lucy wasn’t the bedridden bloodsucker victim. What if it had been Mina? 
1) Jack mentioned Art seeming at the edge of violence until he assessed the situation, i.e. Van Helsing being the Guy Who Knows Better (c). Jonathan, while not immediately resorting to violence, would try, politely, to return to Mina’s side; scary face or no. And if Van Helsing tried to move him again? He Would Find Himself Unsuccessful :)
2) Jonathan being Jonathan, he suspects the truth. If not outright knows, and is keeping mum for the same ‘You’d Think I Was Crazy’ secretive reasons as Van Helsing. The difference being that, as we’ll see in the book later, Mina takes precedence over everything in his view. Everything.
God? Humanity? Sanity? < Mina. 
Regardless of what she is. Regardless of what she needs. So when they declare her dead and the sign of those rosy lips comes in, Jonathan wheedles his way into ‘Having the room alone for a moment.’ For mourning and such.
(He does not look like a mourning man. Jack recognizes something of Renfield in his mien. Tell them what sounds rational. Tell them what they expect. Turn your back, Doctor, all is well.)
They leave him. Then, he cries out for them--they come running and find, ta-da! Mina is alive! False alarm, everyone. Mina is all sunshine and mirth and health. Thank you all so much for your vigilance. She’s so much better now...
(Only Jack and Van Helsing notice the new bandaging on Harker’s arm. How some of the color has gone out of his face. There was a water glass on the nightstand--missing now.)
3) Jonathan is very pale and languid whenever they see him now. Yet he seems pleased; or nearly so. He’s jubilant when he walks with Mina under her parasol, and she with him. Her smile looks too sharp. 
(”What’s wrong? Can you not name your worry even now?”
“No,” says Van Helsing. “There is something wrong. Terribly wrong. But it is not wrong enough; no others are harmed. He feeds her from a cup. And what can they be accused of until other lives are brought into it? What can be said that is not madness to hear, even if it is true?”)
4) One night, Jack is surprised to look from his office window in the asylum and see the Carfax estate all lit up. A gloomy sight even aglow, but it is lit for welcome. A coach arrives and deposits--he would swear his life on it--both the Harkers. A dinner party? He wonders. Mina must half-carry her poor husband up to the door. Even in the ruddy light of the manor, he seems to have paled. His cheeks shine wetly in the lamplight.
There is a last new bar of light as the door is thrown open. Mina smiles. Jonathan ducks his head, looking only at her as a great white hand drifts out and oozes over the young man’s shoulder. A friendly gesture that, even at a distance, reminds Jack of a bird’s talon sinking into its prey before taking flight. Husband and wife disappear inside. 
Down below, Renfield goes into a new fit.
(”It is not fair!” he rails sourly to Jack, to the attendants, to the fresh and unsuspecting songbirds he’s collected. The man appears nearly to sulk. “It isn’t! It isn’t! I have been so patient, so full of fealty, and yet the most obstinate of thralls wins the Lord’s grace! It is not fair!”)
5) Jonathan and Mina Harker are declared missing that week when they do not arrive for Lucy’s pre-wedding rehearsal. That same day, Jack sees two new parcels arrive for the Carfax estate.
To his eye, they look as big as coffins. 
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Walter Deville teaser
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As she tightly gripped the entrance door, her heart skipped a beat as the melodious sound of her mobile ringtone echoed in her ear. With a sense of intrigue, she glanced at the screen to find an unfamiliar number glowing brightly. Without hesitation, she swiftly answered the call, her voice filled with a hint of curiosity. "Miss Stoker speaking," she uttered, her hands instinctively seeking warmth within the comforting embrace of her coat. “good evening, Miss Stoker. I am calling on behalf of my employee Lord Deville. The Lord has taken quite a liking to your recent paintings and would request to purchase every single one of them.” As she received the quick and emotionless request, a chill ran down her spine, sending shivers of anticipation through her entire being. It was a request that held the power to ignite her creative soul. Each and every painting from her recent collection flashed before her eyes, their gothic designs and dark colours dancing in her mind's eye. The numbers representing their worth swirled around in her head, filling her with a sense of exhilaration and joy. “Sir apologize for the silence. But I you sure you have the right artist. My pieces aren’t exactly the most popular pieces on the market.” She stuttered finally having the strength to enter the gallery and head to her office.
“ I am very sure mam. Lord Deville has been captivated by the pieces for some time now and has sent over a contract to your public email address.” (Y/N) eagerly unlocked her laptop and dove into her overflowing inbox, her heart pounding with anticipation. And there it was, like a beacon of hope, the subject line that caught her attention, illuminating the screen with its splendour. As her eyes met the dazzling digits of the price, a surge of excitement coursed through her veins, causing her sparkling eyes to widen in sheer delight. “this all seems too good to be true sir. I will have a read through the email and get back to the lord as soon as I'm done.”
“very well mam. We hope to hear from you soon.” As the old butler hung up the old-fashioned phone he looked back at his master with a poised nod. “it is done, my lord. Miss Stoker will read over the contract now.” In the dimly lit confines of Carfax Abbey's office, a solitary candle cast eerie shadows upon the vintage desks. The lord of the manor, an enigmatic figure, sat upright and impassive, poring over the printouts of (Y/N)'s website. “is it really here sir? Has our lady finally returned to us?” the butler spoke still keeping his emotions locked away. “it would seem so Mr. Fields.” the lord muttered. Finally, his old laptop flashed with a new email from the woman he had longed to see for centuries. “dear lord Deville. I am very pleased with the proposal sent to me. Unfortunately, the pieces have one more day in my personal gallery, but I can assure you after tonight’s event, I will have them sent of to your manor as soon as possible. I will send you over delivery reports once sent over. Warm regards Miss Stoker.” As Lord Deville's eyes scanned the message, a sly smile crept across his face. His heart, once as cold as ice, began to thaw with excitement. However, he knew better than to reveal his emotions just yet. He would keep his composure until he had his beloved back in his arms, where she belonged. As he sat in the dark, his fingers gracefully twirled the golden ring, its presence on his long finger a testament to his patience. With each rotation, the jewel embedded in the ring shimmered, mirroring the sparkle that once danced in her eyes, a memory etched in his heart.
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stray-kaz · 1 year
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The Flower and The Serpent : a Walt De Ville x reader FF : one
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You were with your friends when the time came, unbidden, to say goodbye. You had known it was on its way, this day in particular, but it still managed to creep up on you, as did the older man dressed in old fashioned butler clothing. The first notions you had of his presence were the hairs standing up on your arms and nape of your neck, and the sudden silence of your friends, where before there had been nothing but lively chatter.
“Miss Alexander” the man said politely, giving you a brief bow. “I apologise for the interruption.”
You glanced around at the worried faces and tried to smile reassuringly.
“Hello, Mr. Field” you replied, pushing your chair back with a concrete scrape and standing to your feet. “Is that the time already?”
He nodded and gestured to the black Cadillac idling by the curb.
“I’m afraid so, Miss” he answered you. “Best say your goodbyes.”
You turned around and looked down at your oldest friends, wishing you could explain to them where you were going and why, but knew that you never could. They wouldn’t believe you anyway. You had navigated primary school and beyond together, had nursed broken hearts, graduated high school and university together, but if they heard what you might say, they’d pack you off to the nearest asylum.
“I’ve got to go” you announced, and slowly made your way around the cafe table, hugging each of them for as long as you thought you could.
“But where? Why? Who is that man?” one of them asked, eyebrows drawn together in concern.
You kissed her cheek and shook your head.
“Don’t worry” you said. “He’s an old family friend. It’s time for me to go home, that’s all.”
A flurry of questions swept after you, swirling in the air inside the car with you as you slid across the backseat and Mr. Field closed the door after you. You gazed out the window at your friends as you were driven away, trying to memorise each precious face before they were out of sight and you’d never see them again.
“Happy birthday, Miss” Mr. Field said quietly from the front.
You smiled faintly and nodded.
“Thank you” you murmured. “I know the master is looking forward to celebrating with you tonight.”
You raised your eyebrows.
“He is?”
“Oh, yes, Miss. He is quite eager to take your hand. He has planned a ball in your honour. Twenty five is quite an age.”
You scoffed quietly, but you were smiling all the same.
“Not for him” you replied. “Twenty five means nothing to him anymore.”
“But it means something for you, Miss, and he does know that. He appreciates your sacrifice.”
You nodded and rested your head on the window as the town rushed by, blending into green and gold on either side as you were drawn closer and closer to New Carfax Abbey.
When you arrived, the lord of the manor was waiting at the end of the driveway, near the house, his hands clasped behind his back. You couldn’t help staring through the window at him; he was even more handsome than you remembered from your previous birthday. There had been a time when you saw him several times a year, but after you turned eighteen, they dwindled to only on your birthday.
“Are the others here?” you asked Mr. Field, lifting your gaze to the upper windows.
The butler glanced at you in the rear view mirror.
“The ladies Viktoria and Lucy are almost always around the manor, but they will leave you be” he assured you. “Mr. De Ville has given them strict instructions not to touch a hair on your head, Miss. Though Lucy has always been possessed of a kinder disposition than Viktoria.”
You nodded and opened your door, swinging one foot out and then the other. You had only the clothes on your back, but you knew that there would be more provided for you; Walter De Ville had been lavishing you with gifts since you were thirteen years old, and you doubted it would stop now that you were less than a month away from marrying him into the dark.
The lord of the manor started to walk towards you, and when Mr. Field hurried to introduce you officially, he waved him away.
“There’s no need for that, thank you, Mr. Field” he murmured, eyeing you closely. “I know exactly who Miss Alexander is, I do not need an introduction.”
Mr. Field nodded, but he continued to hover, so Walt turned back to him, eyebrows arched slightly.
“I can escort her to her room. Thank you” he said briefly.
“Very good, sir” Mr. Field said, giving him a shallow bow. “More clothes will arrive for you tomorrow, Miss.”
“Thank you.”
“Meanwhile...” Walt said quietly. “There are enough pretty nightclothes to fill up your wardrobe and then some, darling.”
You felt your face flush with warmth.
“Thank you, sir” you said politely.
His dark eyebrows shot up.
“You can call me Walt” he told you. “’Sir’ was my father.”
You nodded and he tipped his head in the direction of his home, reaching around you to press one hand into the small of your back.
“Let me show you to your room” he said. “It’s right at the top, just below the attic. I hope you’re not afraid of heights.”
You shrugged and let him guide you inside the mansion, acutely aware of the press of his fingers as they never left your back.
You hadn’t visited the manor for nearly a decade, and there were new works of art placed carefully around the entry hall and throughout the house as Walt led you upstairs two flights and along another corridor until he reached an open bedroom and ushered you along in front of him. He smiled as your eyes widened and lips parted a little at the sight of the four poster bed, lush with velvet hangings, and the massive gilt mirror that sat above the duchess, makeup and brushes already placed upon it, ready for your use should you want them.
Buttery curtains fluttered in front of the windows and the plush carpet sank under your high tops as you walked across it.
“Wow” you said softly, throwing your head back to gaze up at the lofty ceiling.
“I could say the same thing” Walt murmured, watching you.
He moved past you and swung open the doors of the wardrobe, revealing an impressive row of women’s intimates, all in your size you realised as you ran your fingers along the fabrics, smooth, soft, silky, lacy, plain cotton.
“How did you know -?” you asked, voice dying in your throat as you turned to find Walt suddenly right up behind you, your nose bumping his chest before you righted yourself.
He smiled again, something a little wanting in his light eyes.
“I know everything” he said, his voice soft and low in your ear. “I’ve been around a long time, Miss Alexander. Besides all that, your father gave me your sizes and I made sure these were perfect. Do you like them?”
You turned around again and stroked your fingertips down the delicate edge of a white almost sheer baby-doll nightie, tiny pink flowers stitched all over it. Walt found his gaze being drawn to your fingertips, to the ruby red polish on your nails, almost the colour of blood.
“This one is beautiful” you told him, glancing over your shoulder to see his face.
He nodded, making a mental note of it.
“I’ll have more made for you” he replied.
“Why? You already gave me one” you said, puzzled.
His lips quirked at the corners to form a faint smirk, one that turned your knees to liquid.
“Because you never know how long it’ll last” he murmured, eyes trailing hotly up and down your body.
You shivered and he stepped back, content to leave you like that, already following him with your gaze, your body leaning after him before you could stop it.
Walt stopped at the door and turned back to face you, arms spread to brace against either side of the doorway.
“There is a dress waiting for you on the bed, for the ball tonight” he said. “And happy birthday, darling. It very well might be your last.”
He winked and disappeared. You forced your unsteady legs to work and made it over to the bed to stare down at the masterpiece laid out before you, a dress designed for a princess. You wondered what the wedding gown would be like.
You sat down with a sigh and gingerly touched the dress, running your fingertips over the pearl laden bodice and the pale green skirt that flowed out beneath it. It was the loveliest thing you had ever owned.
Walt De Ville. A man of ancient times and insatiable whim. A man soon to be your husband.
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A/N: Please leave comments and let me know what you think. There is more to come.
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OUAD - Deleted scene!
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Once upon a December- Deleted scene! Takes place sometime before the cocktail party!
=
You sighed, fiddling with your necklace as you wandered the grounds of new Carfax abbey. Walter had given you and Evie full permission to wander as you liked, as long as you were careful around the gardens; but something kept pushing you towards that forgotten path, you had circled the manor several times now, each time getting closer to that overgrown path.
On the 9th lap, you finally just stopped and rubbed your face-looking up to the sky “okay-whatever wants me to go down that” you gestured to the path, a cool breeze gliding down your back “path-give me a hint-a sign, anything!” you sat down with a huff, adamant not to move until you had a sure sign-or hint-that were you supposed to go down that path-it was clearly abandoned, Walter even seemed…uncomfortable when you asked him about it-you didn’t want to push a boundary to the host who had been so kind to welcome practical strangers to his home.
Though-you were much less than a stranger to him…well-to him-to you-he was one, though…with every passing moment, he felt like so much more-like a beloved friend you hadn’t seen in years. You were broken out of that thought when a high-pitched bark(bark?) caught your attention, turning as your newly precious book was snatched by a puppy-looking no older than 6 months- yipping and bounding around you as you desperately tried to take the precious book back.
“Hey! Heey! Give me that-it’s very old and precious to someone-not a toy” you hushed out, giggling as the puppy continued to bound around without a care in the world, dancing between your legs and making you trip over a soft mound of grass, a grin on your lips as the puppy leaped down the path, looking back at you with an inquisitive puppy grin. You huffed, shaking your head as you stood and wiped your clothes free of the grass that had accumulated there. “you want me to follow you or something?” you laughed out gently, pursing your lips as you realized your necklace felt oddly warm against your skin-but you brushed it off, it had been trapped against your clothes for a bit-so it was probably normal for it to be a bit warm.
The puppy yipped again, bowing down on its front legs and barking-its tail going nuts. You just hummed, taking a step towards it, snorting quietly as it snatched the book again and bolted off. You looked back at the manor-then took off after it, leaping over tree roots and ducking under branches, that pull in your chest growing tighter as you followed the puppy down the path.
It turned a sudden corner and you nearly crashed into a tree following it, letting out a huffing scream of victory as you pounced where the puppy was-only to find the book-not a puppy to be seen. “uhhhh-puppy?” you muttered, picking up the book, which thankfully had taken no damage(not even a drop of drool), and looking around for the suddenly missing puppy-dread filling your gut as you thought about what might’ve happened in the last few seconds it had disappeared from your sight. “Puppy? Where are you?”
You let out a short whistle, turning as you heard a bark from the break in the trees ahead-following them until you stepped out from the tree line-eyes widening as you took in the castle you had stumbled upon-it looked to be centuries old-overgrown with vibes and decay-though it looked just as beautiful as it used to be.
…used to be?
You shook your head, following the sounds of the puppy, wondering where the black lab had gone. You pushed open the black iron gates of the courtyard, trailing your hand against the stone railing as you wandered further into the castle yard-hearing the puppy from inside. You whistled again, hearing it from just inside the doors.
“How in the hell did he-“ you shook your head, seeing the two grand wooden doors that kept the castle safe, rotting away-one practically hanging on a wire-allowing anything to travel inside. “That’s how” you muttered, tucking the book into your side and carefully stepping into the castle- gasping at the interior-it was gorgeous- smooth stone flooring with high ceilings; decorated with paintings and candelabras.
You trailed your hands on the gold fern-like designs that lined the walls-dusted and cracked with age. Something about this place-just felt, so, familiar. Like an old love. You whistled again, hearing the puppy deeper in the castle, you walked through the grand hallway-passing several rooms and stairways as you did, until you reached a set of ornate doors; decorated in silver and gold.
You hummed, whistling again, hearing the puppy from behind you now. You turned, sighing as you saw its little form sliding under a table, its shadow illuminated by the sun beaming through the broken window. “there you are” you muttered, walking up to the table and picking up the cloth, chuckling as the bright blue-eyed puppy stared back at you-its tail still going crazy.
You shook your head, standing up and seeing your reflection in a dust-covered plate-you blew the dust off and picked up the plate, smiling at yourself before something else stared back, it almost looked like you and Walter, dancing away. You brushed away the thought, setting the plate back down and following the puppy as it ran towards the two grand doors, pawing at them.
“you want to go in there?” you asked, giggling as it yipped and jumped at the doors. You walked towards the doors, huffing as you pushed them open-nearly tripping over yourself as the heavy doors groaned as they swung open. “oh wow” you whispered, your voice echoing across the ballroom you had found yourself in. you walked forward, resting your hands against the railing as you looked down at the grand room-two staircases on either side of you leading down to the once grand and elegant dance floor.
“This place” you muttered, trailing your hands on the railing as you absentmindedly walked down the stairs to the ballroom floor-flashes of light dancing in your vision-music playing in your ears with no source. “it’s like…a memory from a dream” you reached up, clutching your necklace as you stepped out onto the floor, echoes resounding in your mind-music, laughter, warm hands with a smile that never stopped making you feel butterflies in your stomach.
You spun on your heel-feeling phantom touches on your waist, gasping as you looked into bright ocean blue eyes-that smile from your dreams looking at you, a voice you had yearned for echoing from his lips ‘may I?’ the phantom said, bowing before you-and suddenly-the room was alive-crowded with hundreds of people-wearing clothes that looked centuries old.
You looked back at the phantom-his hand reached out towards you. You smiled, taking his hand and you were swept away in an echo of memories and music you didn’t know you knew, held tight and safely in arms you had wished you never forgotten. A melody echoed beyond the enchanting music, a song that was long forgotten-but one you heard in your dreams every night.
You were pulled close to the phantom's chest, his voice rumbling in your ear “On the wind, ‘cross the sea-hear this song and, remember.” Your voice joined his, though it sounded decades away-like a memory playing on repeat “Soon you’ll be, home with me. Once upon a December” the phantom gently pulled back, his hands clutching onto yours as he leaned forward and kissed your head, his bright blue eyes lined with deep sadness as he stepped away, holding your hand for as long as he could before your hand slipped from his.
You blinked, and suddenly everything was as it was before, the candles above were nothing but shattered chandeliers, the windows were broken and the floors cracked. You let out a long shuddering sigh, holding your suddenly freezing cold necklace, wondering where -that-had all come from.  
You shook your head, ridding yourself of the whirl of confusing echoes and feelings. You whistled for the puppy, but heard nothing in return, frowning as you whistled again, and not even a yip echoed back. “puppy? Where’d you go?” you called out, turning and collecting the book from where you had left it on the staircase, looking everywhere for the suddenly missing puppy.
You licked your lips, feeling a cold breeze chill your spine. You looked behind you-seeing the opposite side of the room, and it felt like the breeze was pushing you to go toward it, as if something was beckoning you to explore the castle more. You shook the feeling off, you had been here for far too long-Evie, and maybe Walter, was probably looking for you by now. You whistled for the puppy one last time, and sighed when nothing came in return. You clutched the book in your arms and made your way out of the castle and back towards the manor, wondering what had happened in the ballroom.
-end of deleted scene-
OUAD taglist!
@anti-herosprettybby @hofficoffi @miniaturehideoutmentality
@disneyfan50 @reallysparklychaos @reallystressedhoneybee
@rebellbelle @libbymouse @soulsfrostedheart18
@zane2408 @austynparksandpizza @tati-the-fangirl
@habblez-the-babblez @lyre-online @sessediz
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michi-tala · 1 year
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Do you have headcanons of D, Alucard, and Aizawa giving their s/o flowers? If so, what kind of flowers would they get for their partner?
Floral Gifts
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📍I don't but that never stops me. Do note flowers are plant gentils. Therefore giving flowers is far more of an intention of sexual love than only innocence. Yeah, so when people use flowers at funerals,it is kinda creepy to me.
I have chosen to go from a different perspective than just give flowers but some kind of memorable day/night. You will go to the flowers. Now follow the flower petal path. Short but sweet smelling..
•You wonder why D is in a hurry to a hidden and secretive mountain location. You and he have to get there before the hunters moon and also the 13th one called a blue.
🪷•Vampire Hunter D
•Just as the blood colored moon rises, D takes your hand and leads you to black polished stones. The remains of a noble's estate which had a flower garden..
•There you watch silver strands rise from the ground to form a plant with delicate leaves. As iridescent flowers that look like a type of Lotus, appear then open to the moon.
•D pricks your index finger to let one drop of blood drip on the petals of one blossom. It immediately closes its petals then wilts.
You are sad and very confused..🪷
"My love, that is a blood blossom. It only blooms on the 13th moon and a hunter's moon," D begins to explain. "It could be another century before it blooms again. And without a drop of blood, it would never bloom again."
•You notice a single tear running from D's right eye. "It is also where my mother is in inturned for all eternity..My father created these for her. Unique and beautiful as she was in life yet like him it must be nourished with blood.."
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•Just for you, he would take you to a hay field (in spring) in which all the most beautiful wildflowers are blooming.
💐•Vladcard-Romanian wildflowers
•Vlad may be a rough, scary man a lot of the time but the joy that crosses his face shows how proud of even the flowers that bloom in his realm.
And the most beautiful lady, you, is sitting among the wild orchids..
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•Aww…this is a sad tale until you come along.
🌹•Alucard-dog rose
•There are roses tucked off in a small corner of Hellsing's flower and rose gardens (The British with their love of gardens and hedges) are some simple petaled roses called wild dog roses. And on rare occasions you will spot Alucard checking on these simple roses out of the Hellsing show stopping roses.
•These roses, from Romania, came to Carfax Abbey and were planted by his gypsies. Abraham Hellsing had the rose bush dug up and replanted at Hellsing manor. So should Alucard go into the garden, it is a reminder of how he is not free but a captive to the family.
•One cool evening as the dog roses are in bloom, he takes you to them. So may be taken in their fragrance.
Then he tells you a story…
But now the memories of you enjoying the roses makes him less melancholy..
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•This is one occasion he will dress in traditional Japanese clothes and take you to Nabana No Sato Park to a flower festival. A gorgeous summer day to visit the park.
🌸•Shouta Aizawa
Japan's largest flower festival..
And what does Shouta get out of it?
•You marvel at all the beautiful flowers such as cherry blossoms but also roses, irises, tulips and hydrangeas.
•He takes pictures of his blossom among the flowers. One especially for the phone screen..
Footnotes:
Little Wild-Rose
Rose color meanings
Lavender roses are unique yet stunning roses that can make quite a statement. Their symbolism is often tied to enchantment, wonder, splendor, and mystery as well as love at first sight or enchantment at first sight. So, if you have a secret crush or if someone has caught your attention and grabbed your heart, this may be the perfect rose to send them! Pair your secret admiration of these purple roses with your favorite shade of carnations.
White roses often represent purity, innocence, and youthfulness. White roses are sometimes referred to as bridal roses because of their association with young love and eternal loyalty. White roses can also symbolize a new beginning and everlasting love. White roses pair well with Italian Ruscus.
Blue roses represent mystery, the impossible, or the unattainable. Give a blue rose to someone and you are saying “you are extraordinarily wonderful and unique.” Blue roses are perfect for the woman who marches to the beat of her own drum. Blue roses look stunning alone, but if you want to compliment them, bring along with midnight plum mini calla lilies.
The black rose is a mysterious bloom that can convey many meanings. The color black has often been synonymous with death and mourning and is usually used at funerals. But black roses do have a more positive meaning as well. They can stand for the beginning of new things and major change. Black roses can inspire confidence by signaling the birth of a new era and can bring hope and courage. You’ll love to see these alongside the Walk of Fame Garden Rose.
Yellow roses, during Victorian times, the yellow rose had a much different meaning than it does today. While it used to symbolize jealousy, now the symbol of a yellow rose represents friendship, joy, and caring. These beautiful sun-colored roses can also convey warmth, delight, gladness, and affection, as well as say good luck, welcome back, and remember me. The yellow rose is the perfect rose for a close friend or someone who needs a little cheering up since these blooms are sure to brighten anyone’s day! Yellow roses look brilliant with Sun Flowers.
Red roses also stand for passion, true love, romance, and desire. The red rose is a classic “I Love You” rose, making it a popular choice for Valentine’s Day. When red roses are used for a bridal bouquet, they represent bliss in the marriage as well as true respect and appreciation toward one another. A deep red rose can mean that you are ready for commitment, and have a deep passion for that person. Ultimately, if you want to tell someone you love them, a red rose is the way to go! Red roses pair well with many flowers, but the best pairing is with white roses.
Romania's flower of the Country
Wildflowers of Romania
A list of plants native to the mountain ranges of Romania. Many Romanian mountain ranges, ... Pleurogyne carinthiaca · Potentilla iernata · Rhododendron …
Japanese flowers
@artsy-jandi @amikartest @alucardownsmyass @three-of-crows
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belovedstars · 2 years
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@vampyrebled​ sent: “ sorry, did you want to be alone? ” ( ‘ various question sentence starters ’ )
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evie was still getting used to the atmosphere in the manor, and despite the assurance by mr. fields that she was free to go just about anywhere, she didn’t quite feel that was true. so as she wanders the halls of new carfax abbey, it startles her to hear lucy’s voice behind her. “oh!” she shakes her head, shock being replaced with a gentle smile. “no, not at all. i was just...” she gestures to the walls around her, “admiring this place. i’ve never seen anything like it.”
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thenightling · 1 year
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The Invitation review
Last night I saw the new horror film The Invitation.  And... I liked it.   I liked it a lot actually.   Yes, the full trailer does reveal most of the plot but it’s actually really good.  Yes, it is predicable and has some cliché tropes but that does not make it bad by default.   It has excellent atmosphere and lots of wonderful homages to the Bram Stoker’s Dracula (the original novel).
The Invitation from Sony Pictures actually feels like a 1960s Hammer Horror film. If not for the use of the Internet, DNA kit, and smartphones the plot could have easily come from a Hammer.
It’s a pretty straight-forward plot.   The main character is Evie.  Her mother has just passed away so she decides to do a DNA kit to find out more about her ancestry.  She discovers she’s a part of an old British family line and is quickly invited to a wedding, all expenses paid.  Here’s where I reveal the “Surprise twist” that many vampire horror movie fans might catch on to right away.  It turns out her family is one of three that serve as human vassals to the very real Count Dracula.  He never directly calls himself Dracula but he does, at one point, say that he is known as “Son of the dragon” and liked that name and Evie responds with “That means you’re...”   It’s never out right said out loud but it’s there nevertheless. (For anyone reading this who doesn’t know, Dracula means Son of the dragon or Son of The Devil, depending on the translation.)
There are so many “Hints” that he’s Dracula that you have to have never heard of the character to not realize that’s who this is. There’s implications he’s taken bat and wolf form (both off camera for obviously budgetary reasons), the manor house is called “New Carfax Abbey.”  (Carfax was the home Dracula bought when he moved to England in the original Dracula novel). He uses the alias DeVille (which is an alias Dracula used in Bram Stoker’s novel.) There’s even an elderly couple named Mina and Jonathan Harker (two of the protagonists of the original Dracula novel).  
Anyway, the surprise twist is not just that this is a family serving Count Dracula but that Evie is to be the new bride to replace one that killed herself rather than take mortal life.  
As someone who loves the original Dracula novel I do like that they follow the old rules of the story.  For example Dracula doesn’t burn in the sun.  He’s just nocturnal in nature and likely weaker by day.  And when wounded or badly starved for blood he ages to the form of an elderly man.  The actor for Dracula is a bit young (Dracula’s more youthful form is usually about forty-five or forty-six-years-old based on the novel and Vlad the Impaler’s age when he died and would have become the famous vampire. However he IS an excellent actor and does convey the right combination of charm and charisma as well as menacing and predatory behavior.     
I dare say this is the best Vampire film I’ve seen since Let the Right One In (2008) and this is the best version of Dracula I’ve seen since Netflix’s Castlevania.  I still think Castlevania’s Dracula is the best recent depiction of Dracula but this was a good one all the same. 
I had not heard of The Invitation until very recently and I was not sure what I was really expecting other than an apparently very predictable plot and “twist” reveal but I was pleasantly surprised.  For a low budget horror film it had some great ambiance and atmosphere.  It has some excellent visuals and it feels old fashioned, in a good way.   It did not rely heavily on “deconstruction” like a lot of other modern horror films. This was a true, old-fashioned Gothic Horror movie and I liked it. 
My only complaints are the actor who plays Dracula is a bit younger than I’d like (though he plays the part well). There’s a little bit of implied racism (as Evie is of mixed race) but it’s not hamfisted.  I do like that it’s indicated that Dracula does take animal forms (You hear a wolf howl and you hear a bat) but because the film is low budget it is off-camera. I am glad they at least made the effort. Most modern vampire films (especially low budget ones) remove animal shape-shifting powers all together. I suppose my only real complain is one feeding scene has an obnoxious light flicker effect common in low budget horror films.  This effect can induce headaches in some people or even seizures in epileptics. It’s not scary. It’s just cheap and inconsiderate. Other than that I loved the film though I will admit here I prefer the alternate ending (available to watch for free on Youtube).    
After the disappointment that was the Interview with The Vampire TV series I actually really liked this movie much more than I expected.  I recommend The Invitation to anyone who likes old fashioned Gothic Horror.
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thestraggletag · 2 years
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Girl, the fucking manor is called “New Carfax Abbey”. Just fucking run already.
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jinx-on-mars-19xx · 7 months
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An hour into The Invitation before I figured it out. Damn, I'm tired and lacking today. Have you watched it? How long before you realized? It's funny because I started it just at random but I watch basically every version of this idea. I love that I ended up on it anyway 😂🩸🖤
Edit: shit... Did they mention Carfax manor before the dinner scene? Now I feel silly
YOU CAN'T GIRLBOSS D- THAT MYTH OKAY?? NOT LIKE THAT. HE'S. NEVER. GONE. THAT'S THE WHOLE POINT 🤷🏼‍♂️
Overall not a bad movie but... Eh. Netflix doing it's trendy thing.
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leescoresbies · 3 years
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top 5 instances of holmes being weird in public
OBSESSED with this question, let's see if i can ever narrow this down. that weird funky twink sure loves to be weird in public. i suppose "throwing a math professor off a cliff" doesn't count because nobody else saw that happen.
only one other person witnessed this but it sure was weird and it sure does count as it's one for the ages. when holmes sees the pale and sickly man who he's able to deduce at a glance absolutely has post traumatic stress who is visiting a lab with a guy he kind of sortof knows, grabs him by the arm, shoves a syringe in his face and announces he's used his own blood to develop a better way to solve crimes before declaring he knows everything about this guy and wants to live with asap, in a study in scarlet. really sets the stage for the rest of watson's life, which is the point.
bursting unceremoniously into the hotel room of two long-lost lovers who are trying to flee the country to insist, probably dramatically and at great speed, that they have to come back to his house right this minute in order for him to prove a point to the noxious nobleman one of them almost married, in "the adventure of the noble bachelor."
the scene in "the disappearance of the lady frances carfax" where holmes busts into some guy's house looking for a missing woman who he thinks is sealed inside of a coffin??? and then goes MY COMPANION IS A DANGEROUS RUFFIAN when the man understandably tries to stop him. the man is a villain but still. don't put watson in that position.
choosing to reveal a document of intense state importance -which disappeared, sending a guy named percy into a months long nervous castration - inside his breakfast plate and demanding he uncover it, in "the adventure of the naval treaty."
tricking watson into engaging in a loud and public fake argument about horse betting in front of a distressed goose salesman on christmas eve, in "the blue carbuncle."
AND ONE +1: this one is a bit of a stretch in terms of happening in public but - spending a week lurking around on a moor living in a cave when he's supposed to be in london, making watson and everyone staying in a creepy old manor house a across the moor from the cave in question pretty damn positive that he's a murder. in the hound of the baskervilles, of course.
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cherienymphe · 1 year
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all of my writing explores dark themes such as non-consent, dubious-consent, and a/b/o subjects. if any of this offends you, this has been your warning!
➯ dividers by @firefly-graphics​ | @straywords​​​
➯ banner by me
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『Homelander 』
『Ransom Drysdale 』  
『Chris Evans 』
None of Your Concern
Costars for a little over a year, Chris has always been protective of you in the cutthroat industry much like a father would be. However, when he learns that your boyfriend is even older than him, he realizes that his feelings might not be so familial after all
Need  to Know
Chris heard from a friend of a friend that that pussy was a 10 out of 10
…or the one where you’re shy and Chris gets curious.
『House of the Dragon』
『Coriolanus Snow』
A Caged Bird
Birds are best kept in a cage where one can see them…and where you know where they are at all times.
Everybody Knows That I’m A Good Girl, Officer
…and everybody knows. Everybody knows…that he fucks you.
『Geralt of Rivia 』
Late Bloomer
Geralt of Rivia saves you from more than just a werewolf attack. {alpha!Geralt}
『Sherlock Holmes 』
『Peter Ballard 』
My Lucifer Is Lonely
Peter is your comfort within these cold and sterile walls, and when they come crumbling down, they reveal the nightmare that lies inside.
『Walter DeVille』
Midnight Delights
So many maids have come and gone, but you seem to be the master’s favorite.
My Soul To Take
The search for your missing sister puts you right at Carfax Estate and in the clutches of the lord of the manor.
『Lucifer Morningstar 』
Promised
When you start waking up with bruises you can’t explain, your nightmares turn into a reality.
『Michael Gray 』
Gangsta’s Paradise
An agreement with the Peaky Blinders is almost a done deal...until you catch the eye of Michael Gray. You’re suddenly thrust into the equation, and your father must decide between losing everything or losing you.
『Steve Kemp 』
Sweet Tooth
The Kemps have always struck you as a little weird, but as their babysitter, you figured they didn’t pay you enough to make that your business.
『Damon Salvatore 』
Like Mother, Like Daughter
You never imagined that you would find solace in the bloodstained hands of a murderer.
Haunted
If you’d known that your ex-boyfriend was a vampire, you would’ve gotten a stake instead of a restraining order.
『Roman Godfrey』
Bite Marks & Bruises
Roman Godfrey is spoiled and arrogant and rude…and he gets whatever he wants.
『Stephen Bonnet 』
Bejeweled
Your journey to America is turned on its head when the captain of the ship wants both your mistress’ jewels…and her handmaiden, snatching both in a single night.
『Dune 』
There Will Be Blood
Knowing that you are too afraid to ever find yourself alone with the Harkonnen heir, Lady Margot secures his heart’s desire for his celebration day.
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『Chris Evans 』
None of Your Concern
     ➥ Where you and Chris aren’t on the same page
     ➥ Where tensions increase
『Geralt of Rivia 』
Late Bloomer
   ➥  Character POV
『Michael Gray 』
Gangsta’s Paradise
     ➥ Character POV
     ➥ Where Michael has a close call
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flowersindistress · 3 years
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Ch 35 - On My Mind [Ever Since We Met]
In this one: Mina’s back and a Dragatha preview. [I’m awful at summaries]
Mina Harker considered herself a smart woman. She should have known better than to let Jonathan go alone to some strange place without her. He often did travel alone, but not so far, and never had Mina felt so apprehensive since before he left to Transylvania. And she came to realize it too late—that she should have at least tried to convince him to stay, instead of writing a simple letter to help him be at ease in his travels.
Every night she relived her last evening with Jonathan, when she saw Dracula himself coming out of her fiancé’s skin. It was horror, but what was horror eventually became anger. An anger so intense it turned into a mission for vengeance.
She had made up her mind to find Dracula and kill him. So she prepared and learned as much as she could.
With the help of a detective, she found Count Dracula (although going by a different name these days), who had indeed made it England--much to her convenience.
She reached Carfax Abbey; large desolate grounds with a huge manor, as she imagined. The gates closed but unlocked. She walked inside, crossbow in hand, equally terrified as she was alert. In spite of the comforting sun warming the air, every sound she heard with the wind and leaves felt like a danger. She took a shaky breath and walked the grounds.
As she neared the entrance of the actual manor, clouds seemed to envelop the sunlight and the air grew grey. Mina froze. Perhaps it was just her imagination, but it seemed almost unnatural—an omen. She held her weapon tightly before her and stepped slowly, focused on making her way to the entrance of the place. She had to remember what—or rather, who--she was doing this for, even if he was not with her anymore.
Mina stopped in her tracks, as fog seemed to wrap itself around her ankles and flood even the oxygen. The weather changed far too rapidly, seeming to make her breathing difficult and heavy. The fog was everywhere now, exhausting and suffocating.
She saw the Count’s figure near the entrance, darkness in the fog the only thing visible. Though still at a distance, Mina felt confident in her aim—and so without a second thought she shot straight at him.
Dracula’s reflexes were quicker than she imagined possible. He turned briefly and caught the stake in his hand, broke it in half, threw it carelessly on the ground.
“You’re quite a good shot,” he said. He inspected her a moment, and Mina stayed in place and held her crossbow, trying her best to not allow fear to overtake her.
“How nice of you to come by. I remember you…Though not by taste. Perhaps we can change that,” he said, flashing her a smile. He took one step closer and although she saw him so easily deflect her shot last time, she held up her weapon firmly.
“I’ll shoot again. I won’t stop and one of them won’t miss you. I’ll make sure of it.”
Her voice was shaky and there was sweat on her brow, but the Count made no comment towards this, nor her threats.
“Are you here with Agatha?” he asked.
“Agatha Van Helsing?” she said, taken aback at the question.
“Yes.”
Mina frowned momentarily.
She’s alive, she thought, thought she had no idea how that was possible.
“I’m here alone, and you know why.”
“You’re still upset about Johnny? There are many lawyers in England, Mina. You can find another. Though I will be honest with you, he was quite a special flavor.”
He chuckled, and Mina shot again. Dracula had barely just turned, but successfully caught the stake again in his hand.
“Agatha,” he said, breaking the wood in half, and observing the pieces for a moment before throwing them aside. “Is she here with you, or is she already inside the Castle?”
“Sister Agatha isn’t a part of this-“
“Where is she?” he raised his voice. “I am almost inclined to believe you. Almost. I know very well she would not put you in danger. But by now I can sense her…I wonder if this is a trap.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Why are you so suddenly protecting her?” he asked. “I would expect it from her sisters, but you didn’t mind when she offered herself in your place,” he said raising his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side mockingly. Mina blinked back tears; guilt was something perhaps she had felt, had buried away.
“I’m not helpless this time,” she said, trying to mask any feeling in her voice.
“No?”
In the fog around her, dark figures seemed to slowly come closer. She thought it was her imagination at first, but then she heard the growling and she saw the wolves surrounding her, the snarling teeth, the bright and wild eyes.
“Now, remember Mina! You shoot one, the others will attack you. And I won’t even have to say a word to command them. You will find that nature often works in my benefit. So, I’ll ask you one more time. Where is your friend Agatha?”
His tone was amused, and to Mina it sounded like he was ready to see this show of his wolves unfold. Mina swallowed hard, still holding her weapon tightly. She didn’t know what to do except lie, but she couldn’t think of one quick enough.
“She—I—”
The words wouldn’t even come out, the throat dry and uncomfortable. But to Mina’s relief, after only a few seconds, the fog cleared, at least a little, allowing her to breathe properly.
There were soft whines from the wolves instead of growling; the creatures all seemed to come a standstill before backing away slowly. Mina blinked back tears. It was odd, a miracle, she thought, something Sister Agatha may not have believed in, and that she wasn’t sure she believed in anymore either. Mina looked around in confusion, still holding her weapon, and saw Agatha to her right, looking very much alive among the little fog left.
“Obedient little dogs, just like you,” said Agatha, looking over the wolves, then raising her chin to look at the Count. “Your bride is here.”
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walter deville teaser
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In the magnificent ballroom of a majestic Tudor manor, a spellbinding scene unfolds. Bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, a mysterious woman glided across the polished floor, her movements as graceful as a swan. The haunting melody that filled the air seemed to possess her, guiding her every step between each guest. In the depths of the shadows, a figure stood, his presence both alluring and enigmatic. His face remained concealed, adding an air of intrigue to his already captivating aura. Their eyes locked, two souls drawn together by an invisible force, and the world around them faded into insignificance.
As the music swelled, reaching its crescendo, the stranger took a bold step forward. His voice, filled with a whisper of longing, broke the silence, confessing a love that seems to transcend time itself. “you have no idea how much I love you, Miss Stoker.” The woman's heart raced, her breath catching in her throat, as she was swept away by the intensity of his words.
In the moment frozen in time, their lips finally met in a passionate kiss. It was a collision of desire and longing, a union of souls that defied explanation. But as their embrace deepened, a peculiar taste lingered on the woman's tongue, a metallic tang that sent a shiver down her spine. Suddenly, a surge of curiosity mixed with a hint of fear flooded her heart. The taste of blood upon his lips was unmistakable, a jarring contrast to the tender moment they shared. Questions swirled in her mind, like whispers in the wind. Who was this faceless man? “(Y/N)?” he whispered. “(Y/N)?”
With a sudden jolt, the woman catapulted out of her seat, causing Evie to quickly reach for her pills. "We've landed," Evie whispered, handing her boss a pill with a sympathetic smile. "Don't worry about it," she added, noticing the beads of sweat on her forehead. "Oliver's waiting for us, let's go!" with a nod of her head (Y/N) slowly stood from her seat.
“So, who lives here again?” Evie asked as (Y/N) sat in the car, cruising along the secluded roads on the outskirts of Whitby, she couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia. The ever-changing weather, a characteristic she had missed dearly, played its whimsical game once again. One moment, the sky was a brilliant canvas of blue, devoid of any clouds, and the next, it transformed into a murky grey, with gusts of wind that seemed to dance through the air. “The De Ville family.” As they continued their journey, (Y/N)'s gaze was drawn to the enchanting woodland that enveloped their family estate. It was as if nature had painted a masterpiece, with emerald green shades blending seamlessly into fern green's vibrant hues. The lushness of the trees and foliage created a mesmerizing tapestry, inviting her to explore its hidden secrets. “But our family will be staying the weekend for the festivities.”
“Holy shit. are they royalty or something?” as the manor came into view (Y/N) felt a sense of familiarity. Nestled amidst a sprawling landscape, stood an opulent white brick mansion exuding an aura of wealth and influence. Its majesty matched only by the pristine gardens that surrounded it, meticulously manicured to perfection. Every corner of the magnificent abode reflected the abundance of riches it houses, while the walls remained untouched by even the tiniest speck of dirt. “No, it's just old money. England's full of it.” the artist knew something felt strange about the manor. It felt like home to her, and she couldn’t tell if she liked it or not.
“Welcome to New Carfax Abbey. Let me find our host.” As Oliver wandered off to find the owner (Y/N) also started to wander around the outside of the beautiful building. As she approached the entrance, the pillar carvings beckoned to her with an irresistible allure. Intricate and mesmerizing, they depicted a whimsical dance of enchanting forest creatures, each one brought to life in the bleached stone. These were no ordinary animals; they were the very same majestic beings she had encountered in her adventures. The sight filled her with an overwhelming sense of wonder and curiosity, igniting a fire within her. She yearned for the owner's permission to document every intricate detail, to capture the essence of this extraordinary building. Her excitement surged through her veins, as her mind raced with a flood of ideas, eager to be transformed into words on paper.
“I hope you don’t mind I brought a friend with me, Lord Deville,” Evie spoke pointing towards (Y/N) as she traced the pillar with her manicured nails. “(Y/N).” She called out but the girl seemed to ignore her. evie and the lord watched her closely, the rich gentleman listened to her breathing slow down as if slipping into a trance. “(Y/N)!” Evie called once again but still no reply. As the man gracefully approached the mesmerized woman, his presence seemed to cast a spell of intrigue. With a gentle touch, his large hand found its place on her shoulder, as if to guide her deeper into the enchanting world of his home. And there she stood, lost in a trance, her gaze fixated on the captivating artwork that adorned the brick. “miss are you alright.” His voice as smooth as milk snapped her from her brain her twinkling eyes locking with his stormy ones. The two matched their gaze smiling lightly at the sense of familiarity of each other.
“I'm sorry were you both calling me?” she stuttered looking towards Evie was an embarrassed look. “don’t worry (Y/N) your probably jet lagged.” She laughed picking up the poor girl's bag from the ground. “Walter, this is (Y/N). the artist I was telling you about.” The man now known as Walter stared back at (Y/N) his storm eyes now swapped with a flash of light of excitement. “it’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Stoker. I am a very big fan of your work. obviously.” The sun-kissed hue of his skin suddenly blushed with a fiery red, as if caught off guard by his own rambling. It was almost endearing to witness him in such a vulnerable state as if his emotions were laid bare for all to see. But there was no denying the transformative power of the new face that had entered his life, for it had swiftly altered his entire demeanour. “I'm glad you enjoyed them Mr Deville and thank you for the generous donation to the gallery I can assure you there are big plans for it.” his smile couldn’t get any bigger, but it did. The sound of her voice lulled his heart into a stuttering beat as if it had been out of service for many moons.
“come let me show you around the manor. I hope you like how I've displayed your art.” His cotton-covered arm poked out to her as an invitation to his home. She slowly slipped her arm into his feeling a familiar spark ignite in their touch. His smell was so calming and alluring sending her into a high, her doing the same to him. Walter held her small hand in a comfortable tightness not wanting her to slip from him again.
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creation-is-chaos · 4 years
Conversation
Caleb: I posses a manor house.
Corvus: You have a castle on the outskirts of Detroit. How?
Caleb: I have my ways.
Corvus: You wish to live at your own Carfax Abbey
Caleb: Do not bring up that joke of a novel!
Corvus: Stoker did get the daylight walk correct. You are merely testy that he knew.
Caleb: Fuck Stoker. And fuck Twilight!
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Not so abandoned manor - Harry Hook x reader - Halloween one-shot
inspired by the invitation~!! also less of an x reader and more of a “has reader character in it and Harry clearly has a bond with them” lol
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This was stupid, this was so fucking stupid; why was he doing this?!
Chad had dared him, that’s why. Stupid fucking prince Chad Charming. Harry swallowed harshly, spinning on his heel as he trekked through the dark forest that surrounded him; autumn leaves crunching beneath his feet as shadows danced behind his back-the moon being his only other light.
Harry let out a shaky breath as he broke through the forest line-coming upon the abandoned manor that sat deep within the Whitby forest. There had been rumors of a monster within its walls; with gleaming red eyes and fangs of a beast. Back on the isle, he would’ve been one of the first to storm the abandoned white and black stone walls-but in Auradon; he wasn’t as keen.
Considering in Auradon, death was much more…permanent.
Harry must’ve stood at that forest line for a solid hour, staring hard at the foliage and dust-covered manor, not a light to be seen from the window, nor a life wandering the grounds. It had been abandoned for years, built in the 1800s, and collecting dust since the 1980s.
“New Carfax abbey” Harry muttered to himself as he read the faded sign that sat on the pathway toward the manor. He took a deep breath, clutching his hook in his left hand with the flashlight held strong in his right; his phone sitting fully charged in his pocket-ready to text Uma and or Mal to get him out of there-just In case.
They had all grown up in a place where monsters reigned supreme, so the rumors here-could hold all too much truth for kids like them. Harry slowly walked up the gravel pathway, furrowing his brows as he got closer to the manor, seeing what looked to be scorch marks upon the white stone, buried underneath vines and natural decay.
“oookay” he muttered, taking one final glance around him, his hook still tight in his hand; before he made his way to the grand front doors, pushing them open with his shoulder with great difficulty. One was nearly off its hinges and the other had clearly gone too long without some oil.
He jumped at the sound of snapping twigs and crunching leaves behind him, he whirled around, pointing the flashlight in the general direction he had heard the noise come from.
He saw nothing, nothing but the shadow of trees, and a fox. The fox spotted him and froze, but it almost looked like it wasn’t looking at him, but over his shoulder. He learned a long time ago, that animals didn’t just-look at random things. Harry whirled around again, seeing nothing within the void that was the main hall. Harry took a deep breath, carefully stepping further into the manor, his flashlight scanning back and forth until the feeling of being watched faded away.
“fuck this, fuck this, fuhuhuhuck this~” Harry sang to the tune of that one Mozart song to relax his nerves, which were going through the roof. “this is stupid, this is so fucking stupid-I'm going to fucking kill Chad” Harry continued to try to calm himself down as he walked further into the main hall, his eyes catching onto a cobweb-infested statue that depicted a dragon overtaking a knight-a stone spear pointing directly at him “not creepy at all” Harry grumbled, seeing the long-rested ash resting upon the curves of the statue.
And well-everything else. It almost looked as if the place was set ablaze, and then was-magically put back together-because the only burn damage was ash and the scorch marks from outside. Harry turned, pointing his flashlight into a dark corner of the room, furrowing his brows at the stone hallway; it looked old-very old. He leaned to the side, licking his lips; as the feeling of being watched suddenly returned.
“nope,” he muttered, turning away and jogging up the stairs, nearly breaking into a sprint as it felt like something followed him from that stone hallway. He quickly turned, holding his hook defensively as he pressed his back against the wall; pointing the flashlight every which way. “is-is anyone there?” Harry called out, nothing answered, but he heard the flutter of feathered wings as his voice spooked a bird.
He hated this-he absolutely fucking hated this. He wanted to go home-he wanted to fucking run. You know what, he wanted his sister! He genuinely wanted his big sister, he felt like a scared little kid again. He jumped as his phone buzzed against his thigh and he fumbled to take it out, sliding his hook into his belt loop as he did so. He huffed the text he got.
‘prince asshole-
Remember, no leaving until you get a picture of that chapel’
Right, the stupid rumored chapel of the abandoned manor. Apparently, the place used to be owned by some lord of whatever-and he was into weird shit-like demonic weird shit-holding blood ceremonies in a hidden chapel within his manor.
And if that wasn't a recipe for a horror movie? Harry didn’t know what was.
Harry turned, seeing a hallway to his left, and another to his right. He took the left first, ending up down another hallway that just led to a set of bedrooms. “Alexander suite” he muttered, shining his light onto the rusted gold plate. He opened the once lavish door, slowly creeping inside the dark room. He took a deep breath, this room felt much less-heavy-then the rest of the manor.
The moonlight easily illuminated the room, making it much easier to see. He closed the door behind him; he didn’t like his back to the void that was the rest of the manor. It wasn’t a gigantic bedroom, nothing compared to bens, but it was a good size; his eyes glazed over a set of Russian dolls, all painted white yet cracked with age. He ran his fingers over the painted wood before his eyes met his own, a cracked mirror sitting atop the dresser he now stood in front of; the four-poster bed and windows behind his shoulder. 
He hummed, furrowing his brows as he saw…a shadow, a human figure; standing just behind the flowing curtains. He slowly drew a pocket knife from his pocket, flipping it open and skillfully throwing it at the shadow-swallowing as it landed in nothing but wood and fabric.
He quickly stalked over, ripping the knife out and pushing away the curtains, that feeling of being watched returning heavily. “I swear to the gods if this place is fucking haunted” Harry grumbled to himself, flinging the curtains away and turning; screaming as a pair of red gleaming eyes met his. He fell on his butt, holding his hand to his chest as the sudden figure burst into laughter, stepping into the moonlight to reveal-
-you.
“You should’ve seen your faaace~” you laughed, kneeling in front of him and taking his face, his cheeks ice cold but warming with the flush that was appearing. “(y/n)!” Harry snapped, his breathing rapid and heavy as he glared at you, pouting as you continued to laugh “ye scared tha’ hell outta me!!”
You just scrunched your nose at him, taking his hands and helping him up, grabbing his flashlight and knife while you were at it-Harry having dropped them in his fright “kinda the point baby blue,” he flushed at your stupid old nickname for him, you meant with absolute fondness, but it didn’t mean he didn’t find it a bit-embarrassing. You didn’t use it around anyone other than him thankfully. “What’cha doin’ in a place like this anyway?” you just watched him pout as he pocketed his knife and grabbed his hook from his belt “Ah, Chad?”
Harry nodded once, walking over to the door, and glancing at the painting that sat on the wall next to it, it felt….odd-for some reason. Like It was watching him, no-warning him; telling him to leave. He brushed off the feeling; opening the door and walking out, huffing as he stepped back into the void of the manor, turning the flashlight back on, and walking back down the hall-this time; with you at his back.
Which honestly, made him feel a lot better-because who better to roam an abandoned manor with-than a vampire? Who was the descendant of Blackbeard no less. He froze as something ducked behind the corner, the floor beneath it creaking. He reached back, grabbing your gloved hand. “Harry?” you asked quietly, you knew he wasn’t a fan of places like this-even back on the isle. But something was setting him off.
“Shadow, saw it with the flashlight,” Harry muttered, bringing you towards him till you were practically against his back, your chin resting on his shoulder. “Floor creaked too.”
You furrowed your brows, you didn’t hear anything, and your hearing and sight were 12x better than the average human, you could see near perfectly in complete darkness and hear whispers through walls. And you heard nothing from the floor except your footsteps. You didn’t tell this to Harry though, you would not send him into an episode.
So you squeezed his hand instead, following him down the hall and around the corner, his shoulders dropping a bit as you saw nothing but old carpet and an empty hallway. Harry sighed, shaking his head “I swear,” he muttered, ending the sentence there as you both continued down the hall; passing by a small kitchen, several bedrooms; and entering a very big bedroom, clearly the master bedroom.
“Wow” you muttered, closing the door behind you and spinning on your heel to get a good look at the dark-colored room; the darkness of the night nearly blending in with the walls. The sheer curtains flowed with the wind that came from the shattered windows, the moon barely illuminating the large four poster bed-the sheets stripped and a large dark blanket lay decaying on the floor.
“(y/n)?” Harry called out to you, voice meek and-scared. You hummed, turning to look at him, seeing him locking eyes with a faded portrait of a man…a man who looked-all too much like him. “Harry?” you whispered back, walking up to him and taking his arm; squeezing it as he keep staring at the portrait. Their eyes matched, that ocean blue; one painted and the other pinpointed in fear.
“let’s find that fucking chapel and get out of here” Harry snapped, taking your hand and nearly storming out of the room, the shadows that danced around his feet and back almost coming to life as he raced through the halls-just wanting to leave already.
“Please tell me you’re hearing and seeing things too” Harry muttered as he came to a sudden stop, the two of you finally on the ground floor once more; standing in the middle of the main hall. You glanced up at him; then shook your head. To you, this place was just an abandoned manor, not a lick of supernatural to be seen or heard-other than that portrait. Harry sighed, rubbing his eyes; his brain was fucking with him. which wasn’t uncommon, he had a plethora of mental issues that made him hallucinate in many ways; tonight seemed to be audible and visual.
He had seen shadows, heard creaks of wood, eyes flashing in the dark, whispers in the back of his mind, dark chuckling, and sets of claws retreating from corners. He was going to fucking lose it, and he needed to get out of this stupid fucking manor before he had an episode. “It’s a hidden chapel right?” you asked, pointing his flashlight towards the stone hallway Harry had noticed upon his entry. Harry hummed, nodding a bit as he tried to ground himself in reality. “Then it's probably going to be through that-like-through servants' quarters, something only those who live here can access easily.”
Harry blinked, well-if anything-it wouldn’t hurt to look. “let’s go, if it’s not there, I’m going to hang Chad by his thong” Harry muttered, grabbing your shoulder and tugging you into his side, keeping you close (mostly for himself) as you ventured into the stone hallway. It was long, damp, and just-so creepy. But it wasn’t for naught, because at the end of the tunnel, and to the right-was the chapel.
It was covered in scorch marks and ash, the pews cracked and near destroyed from fire damage, the stone roof practically a void of soot. “Well, we found it” you muttered as Harry snapped a picture with his phone, happy to be done with it all. “let’s go baby blue” Harry grumbled at the nickname and went to follow you out; but paused, his eyes locked onto the alter. “Harry? Harry come on, your brain is playing…tricks…on you” your voice fell into a whisper, Harry’s hand reaching back to grab your arm as you both stared into the reflective eyes within the darkness that was the alter-buried in wood and ash.
Whatever it was-chittered like a wild animal, a clawed hand slowly reaching out to push itself out. It hissed and Harry screamed, chucking his flashlight so hard it cracked on impact-the impact being the beings nose and forehead. It grunted in pain and fell back, giving you and Harry enough time to turn on your heels and run for it; Harry’s hand never leaving yours as you heard something-two somethings-chasing after you, both snarling and chittering like feral animals.
“Go go go!” you yelled, shoving Harry forward and swinging around; your eyes gleaming in the dark as they met three sets of reflective eyes. Vampires, not of your “updated” kind, but of the old word.
And one looked too much like Harry to be comfortable. You snarled, taking your pistol, your real loaded one and not your prop one Ben made you get; and shot point blank, the one with long dark hair screeching in pain as it went right through their forehead and they dropped. You drew your short sword and sliced at the shortest one, its black blood dripping from your blade as the third one, the Harry imposter, met your fist.
It flew back, crashing into a support beam as you turned and ran; meeting Harry outside and grabbing his hand “Run, gogogogogo!” you rambled quickly, the two of you disappearing into the forest as the three beings stayed within the ‘abandoned’ manor; all staring after the pirate teen who looked very much like the master of the house.
The imposter smirked, his eyes flashing in the dark.
-
“Sooo how was-oh shit what happened?” Chad’s smug smirk dropped at seeing the two of you; completely rattled. Uma leaped up to check on Harry, his eyes far off and flickering to red. “vampires” you answered breathlessly “and-not me, vampires, the old kind-the dangerous kind.” Chad went pale, vampires had always been a rumor about that manor-but he never expected them to be-well, real. Since all the vampires of the last few decades were sent to the isle. But apparently, not all of them had.
“Please tell me ye didn’t dare anyone else ta’ go there” Harry whispered, his hands clutching onto Uma’s as she calmed him down. Chad shook his head, for once; telling the truth. “Good. Dare me ta’ do anything like tha’ again, and I will strangle yeh.” Chad swallowed harshly and nodded; very much knowing Harry wasn’t joking-not after something like that.
“Are you both okay?” Evie asked, holding out two caramel apples, the caramel still soft but not dripping. You both took them eagerly, needing some sugar in your bodies after the insane adrenaline rush. “yeah, Harry threw his flashlight at one, I think he broke its nose” you chuckled, and Harry finally smiled, quiet laughter coming from his throat “and then I shot one, got another with my sword, and got the first one in the face with my first-yes there was three. And I swear to the gods, if anyone goes there to try to prove us wrong, im not saving anyone's ass.”
Everyone nodded, and very soon-word had spread about the encounter- the people of Auradon were warned to NOT go to the manor. Some tried, even with the deadly warnings from Uma and Mal, but were thwarted with a magical barrier; put up by FG herself to protect those stupid enough to try to go to the manor anyway.
Only glimpses were seen then, of three figures, one looking all too much like one; Harrison James Hook.
-end-
ye, the other fic i was writing for Halloween took me forever to get past a page-and yet this flows out in like-a day n a half-i really do still love Harry, but its not as easy to write for him anymore :c 
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