#night!creature!reader

Work was hard to find, however, and food to spare even harder. So you’d be at these vampires and their vampire “messiah’s” beck and call, but it was purely out of necessity.

That unknown presence settles behind you as you’re pushing open the door to your cot, raising the coiled hair at the base of your neck.

That night you meet your true and final demise at the hands of one of the few vampires at the Château to share your complexion. Are met with blossoming pain tearing into your neck and a delicate, deceptively strong hand holding your jaw in place while an arm restrains you.

“Delictable,” a voice finer than silk and as rich as cacao whispers, sending more shivers up your spine as you put up a useless struggle. The flat of a tongue presses over your rapidly pounding vein, eagerly tracing the trail of blood rushing from the wounds on your neck. “Finally someone ripe enough in the idiot Marquis’ underwhelming structure.”

Death is kindness when it comes to you.

That is until no afterlife meets you, until the darkness of the deceased begins to writhe, a living breathing thing around you and a foreign malevolence lashes through your spirit. Sinks inky tendrils into what’s left of you until you’re ripped back into the light.

Agony wails up your throat, wracking an unfamiliar body with tremors. Lighting your nerves on fire until arms that are familiar but shouldn’t be catch you when you fall from that devil’s machine, towering and hissing bouts of fire and pink flashes at your back.

“We meet again, Morcel,” silk intones, voice low and coiling in your ears.

A sob falls past dark lips you do not recognize any longer, your body that feels too big and too crowded and too wrong is racked with shivers.

Claws nip at your cheeks that no longer thrum with life, plush lips press to your overheated skin.

“Glorious,” Drolta murmurs, pulling away from the kiss planted on your forehead as your own foreign appendages twitch clumsily around you.

Humanity slips from you with every new, impure breath you take. Drolta’s siren song lulls you with its familiarity despite the dredges of who you used to be rioting against the string cut feeling that has you falling into her hold.

The demoness catches you, made anew herself with sprawling wings and sharp metal-tipped hair. Locs that writhe against you as she pulls you in.

Those same lips from before press to a pulse that no longer thrums with life.

“Look at you,” Drolta murmurs, hands gliding over the monstrosity that has become you with careful metal talons and the give of the pads of her fingers. The clack of hooves reverberates around the corridor you’re trapped in as she moves, pulling you closer. Steel cages close in all around you, and the fleshy press of her colorful wings curving around your body is little reprieve.

When her eyes meet your still adjusting ones they’re a blazing fushia, her once goddessesque features intact, but contorted into a vampiric abomination.

She coos down at you, physically tilts your head around for her inspection. The grin she gives you is sharp-toothed and mean, eyes going lidded. “What a glorious and beautiful thing,” she says to you, silk a cutting damnation.

Grand, onyx horns stretch from her temples. Crowning her head whilst she looms and chuckles and grabs you like she has a right.

“Come,” she murmurs, a large hand catching the tail that’s since sprouted from your body and tugging. It wiggles in her unrelenting grasp, you gasp at the strange sensation, and she remains unphased as she uses it to drag you along. "You will make a fine pet yet, Sweet Morcel.”

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!! ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

The way every single Drolta form makes me lose my mind! She’s so great as an antagonist and she’s so pretttty, I need to rewatch the show after this.