#risenagain

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divider by: wispyxfae

She doesn't remember the last time she's fed on anything. The things her horde have been feeding on can only sustain her so much. They would be more filling if her drones weren't all utterly, incompetent fools, but there wasn't much she could do about that. Not before handling just how desperate this hunger was making her. It was pathetic, and the Zombie Queen didn't keep herself going for this long just to die a pathetic, starving bag of flesh.

On sallow, discoloured legs, she set out, wandering wherever she figured would be populated enough to feed, but secluded enough not to be caught. Hopefully, she'd find someone worth her appetite. And hopefully, that someone would be the person she's currently creeping up on with a wild smile on those yellowing teeth.

A PEEK INTO ;;

DMITRY SUDAYEV’S IPHONE

@risenagain

          they’re both used to a certain sort of article by now and it rarely surprises him to see the new headline, the new girl who thinks she can pull the wool over the eyes of the dowager, whose newest letter to his wife lays on the corner of the table, waiting to be opened by her loving granddaughter.  regardless of the lack of surprise, however, they always find the need to tell one another when it happens again.

          ❛   there’s a new one.  did you see, anya?   ❜   he says, not bothering to hide the laughter in his voice as he speaks.

With their family’s so close, particularly the friendship between Nicholas and his own father, George, it was inevitable that they should eventually meet, he wished it had been sooner. When the Great War drew to a close and Albert was released from his military duties to take up more of the royal roles, he leapt at the chance to meet the Russian cousin, Anastasia.

can i borrow a kiss? i’ll give it right back     //   @risenagain​

the generator has spoken: Goofy Kiss

                    No matter how much Dmitry tries to bite down his grin, he can’t. Vlad && Lily ——— they were something all right. He’s happy for them, he truly is     /     but couldn’t they take their affairs somewhere a bit more … private ?? Brows furrow ( stop, there was no making sense of it, whatever they thought ramming their mouths against each other was supposed to be ; for it certainly wasn’t a KISS ). 

          “Anya ——— d’ya ever think that maybe, just maybe, we’re the ones who’ve been doing this whole kissing thing wrong ?? Maybe they’re on to something.” Lips manage to hide a smirk this time, feigning true sincerity in his wide-eyed gaze.

                    Before a certain someone may even begin to catch on, his arms weave ‘round petite frame, pulling her close as calloused hands guide her in a PLAYFUL dip ( && people say he didn’t learn anything from those dance lessons, please ). A trademark smirk, lips crash against her own. S L O P P Y  ,  loud. Dmity manages to copy the infamous Vlad kiss for a few seconds before BURSTING into laughter. A jest it may be, but his heart still races ‘gainst chest, the conman fumbling for breath as he straightens up. The power she has over him could not ever be denied.

Dmitry had known since the moment that Anya told him she had remembered the day years ago when they were mere kids and he had reached out for her in that crowd of thousands that they were never meant to be. He was BENEATH her, a common man. Once the Dowager Empress had come to him, offering him the reward money for bringing him Anya--or Anastasia rather--he knew that it was finally all over. The dream of being with Anya was g o n e. Like a distant dream that he was foolish enough to think could ever come true.

He declined the money. The reward of her actually being Anastasia and the Dowager Empress accepting her, like Anya had rightfully deserved, was enough for him. So he left. There was nothing left in Paris for him. He was out of Russia, that was good enough for him. He’d find something to keep him busy while Anya was where she truly belonged. That narrative didn’t belong him, so he took himself out of it. That was what would be the best for everyone, especially Anya. And his heart. 

Finding a home in a remote location on the French country side seemed like the best plan for Dmitry. He had enough money left from selling Anya’s diamond that he was able to buy himself a small place to stay in. The conman tried to mind his own business and live a low profile. His French wasn’t the best, it being rather broken and accented thickly by his Russian accent, but it worked for him. The plan was to stay there as long as he could, living as if he had never met Anya, in hopes that he might forget all about how he left half his heart back in Paris. 

let’s just keep kissing ‘til we come to.

(( @risenagain ))