simping for charity.

“you can’t keep me here.” theris protested as he tried to push past viktor. “i-i need to save them!” he heard the screams from outside, his chest rising and falling quickly. he felt the flame inside of him stir, the beast wanting blood. “i can protect myself.” he had control over the beast now, no longer turning uncontrollably. 

       arlo thought his own hunger was insatiable but nikolas had proven that entirely wrong. the nails sinking into his skin simply causes the blood fiend to exhale heavily through his nose. it was as if he was given a crazed child in the middle of a sweet shop and expected to keep up. grabbing the collar of nikolas’ shirt, arlo pulls him forward till they’re a breath apart. “ if you take her, that’s your last. four bodies in one night isn’t exactly inconspicuous, nikolas. we’re here to feed not to draw attention. “ 

“I NEVER GOT THEM,” he promised, soft and earnest. “I SWEAR TO YOU. I NEVER RECEIVED THEM. MY FATHER MUST HAVE INTERCEPTED THEM…” viktor gently touched his cheeks, tilting his head up to look at him. “DON’T WORRY. SHE HOLDS AS MUCH LOVE FOR ME AS I DO FOR HER. WHICH, I WILL ADMIT, IS VERY LITTLE. SHE IS MOTHER OF MY CHILDREN, BUT THAT IS ALL. YOU ARE THE LOVE OF MY LIFE.” 

he leans down and kisses him, tasting lips he had not tasted in…years. divines, it was heaven to kiss him again, to hold him again. “I LOVE YOU TOO, THERIS. MORE THAN ALL THE GOLD IN THE WORLD.”

he wasn’t expecting the kiss. for the longest time, he thought viktor hated him-- didn’t want him. he was just a quick fuck. but his heart stopped for a second when the other confessed the return of feelings. theris had never once said he loved viktor... and he was scared to say it. but viktor loved him too.. after all these years. he couldn’t stop the tears that feel down his cheeks. he returned the kiss. divines... he had missed his lips... his taste. a soft whimper left theris as his hand came to rest on viktor’s cheek. he broke down as he kissed him. “i missed you.” he sobbed against his lips before he deepened the kiss, pressing his body against viktor’s.

       arlo exhales a slow breath through his nose at the sale pitch of silk worms and caves. he doesn’t need to be dazzled by fabric, he just needs to be told it won’t fall apart mid mission and he’ll hand over his coin. arms crossed, he rests his weight on one hip as he witnesses the dagger doing no damage. he reaches out, fingers brushing over the flowers and hums. “ how much ? “ dark hues move from the fabric to his fellow blood fiend. “ money isn’t an object here. “

“as i said, the divines do not flow through everyone, and there are being other than the divines at play.” antigone had thought about it often, why the divines allow heartbreak when they seemingly controlled all things, and she found through the texts that it’s not that they control them, but that their presence can impact things. the doom was clearly something not aligned with the divines; there were other entities out there, this she knew. she looked at nikolas. “perhaps you can ask those questions to the divines or whoever else you pray too. i am a mere human; i cannot know.”

miłosz smiles at the man’s attempt to sing, still strumming along.  his voice wasn’t so terrible, but he seemed to be lacking the confidence.  “i’ll join in,” he reassures him, starting to sing on the next measure.

he leans back in his seat, balancing his mug between the pads of his fingers, wracking his mind and the mess of memories that survived him. “nikolas de lioncourt…hmmm…the name doesn’t ring a bell, but your face does.” he mumbles away quietly before placing his cup down on the table, gesturing for the man to join him, “apologies, sir, i’ve only been back a week and my memories are all a bit of a muddle. i thought a man with a rather luscious beard was my aunt mehgan this morning…i mean, she had a bit of a beard…” he seems rather confused and fuddled.

did you think it’s cool to walk right up ; to take my life ; and fuck it up? well did you?

tw: disease mention. blood mention. death mention. murder mention.

nikolas’ fingers dug into the fabric that arlo was wearing, nails threatening to tear it as he stared at the couple below them. he swallowed thickly, eyes crimson with hunger as the sharp nails of his other hand dug into arlo’s hand. it was clear that the cult really fucked nikolas up when they turned him. this was their third hunt of the night and he was still a rabid fucking animal, ready to destroy the couple; tear their throats out like the man before them that night. “i want her now...” he growled out to arlo.

ragnar rolled his eyes. “ever the particular one. i’m not selling a life for your gold, even if i don’t particularly like the worker.” he pushed the gold back at nikolas’s chest. “you can ask them if you can feed, but feeding while starving generally isn’t a good idea. i like my workers alive.”

miłosz grins, nodding.  “i know the maiden of the flowers very well.  would you care to sing along?” he asks, pulling a seat up to the table next to the man.  “i happen to like this song very much.  it’s very sweet.”  he starts playing the melody, humming along at first while he waits for the man’s answer.

he sat there for a moment as the other hummed, the blood fiend clearing his throat gently. he wanted him to sing? welp. so much for the bard’s ears, he supposed. “d-dewdrops... on roses....” he began softly, feeling a little embarrassed. his hands opened and closed self-consciously as he sang, actually not having a terrible voice. “w-whiskers on kittens....” he stopped. “are you not going to sing, bard?”

oh that stare was unnerving.  he can’t help the slight preen that comes over him at being called beautiful, strumming his lute for a moment.  “give me a type of song you’d like to hear, and i’ll see what i can come up with,” he offers, sitting across from the man.

closed starter for @bloodgcld​ (nikolas)

with his feet tossed up on the table in the far corner of the tavern, the almans watches people come and go all day, nursing a drink he hardly needed. faces that he recognised visited the tavern and names would fly in-and-out of his mind for moments ebfore disappearing completely, until now. “hey.” he calls to the familiar person, waving his hand, “nice face. i recognise it. what’s your name? mind’s a muddle, you see.”

he usually came to the tavern to find a meal. it was easily to lure drunken fools to their deaths but he was having no luck tonight. and the ale in front of him went untouched. ale had no taste for him now. it wasn’t until someone addressed him that his attention was grabbed. nikolas looked over at him. he seemed... familiar but he couldn’t palace him. “nikolas de lioncourt.” he said slowly. “you seem familiar yourself.” he had a feeling that he knew him before the doom had changed him.... when he was a fragile man, sickly and not long for the afterlife. now that the doom changed him-- he was strong, confident--- cruel.

ragnar smirks. “theris, you’re pretty, but i already have someone who spends the night in my room and it is myself.” he catches theris’s fingers. it was true: the workers of the brothel rarely caught a glimpse of his quarters. besides mara, that is. but even then, it took months before he allowed her in. “and i doubt you’d like laying with me too much. i’m a bit rough.”

     “ i prefer black. “ there’s not an ounce of colour in arlo’s wardrobe, anything other than black was either destroyed by blood or fighting. the word condition used for what they are doesn’t sit well with arlo in the slightest, makes it sound so- menial. but he bites his tongue in that regard, he’s not here to swap vicious words on sharpened tongues. dark hues watch the shop keeper slip away and he hums. “ then i will stop being vague. i need fabric that will last, be able to take some stress of- a physical altercation. i have no need for fabric such as this-” he gestures to the crimson silk. arlo is usually so absorbed in work he does not have time to wear such things or places to wear such things. “ while it is beautiful it would simply collect dust. “