& One Of Them Promptly Rips The Other One's Throat Out Lmao. - Tumblr Posts
🪐 — LASZLO CRAVENSWORTH for nadja !
NOT ALL CORPSES REANIMATE; SOME SIMPLY WITHER AWAY. Only the strongest of mortals were fit to endure the process. Your will to live is strong, his chest puffed out in pride at the compliment. “ Of course, it is, my dark mistress, ” he said as he needlessly smoothed the front of his nightshirt, now soaked with three days of sweat and sickness. The past few nights had been a blur of nightmarish fever, yet he remembered her clearly. This stranger whom he barely knew had cared for him. Now he was well. More than well, in fact. Despite his exhaustion, there was a sense of renewal. It was as if a thick fog had finally cleared. Sounds were sharper. Colours were brighter. He was reborn.
“ I dare say I’ve never felt better. ” He leaned against his elbow as he soaked in her exquisite beauty. She was more beautiful now than she had been when he invited her through his window, if that were possible. He opened his mouth to address her once more only to realize that he did not know her name- between her fucking him into oblivion and then sucking him dry there really hadn’t been time for pesky introductions. “ What might I call you, my darling. ”
HIS ETERNAL LIFE had been bestowed on a whim in the throes of their passion. & in truth, nadja hadn’t really thought the man would make it through that first night. she’d certainly made a mess of his throat while taking her pleasure ( though luckily the head had remained attached this time ), & she had half expected the blood loss to be insurmountable for his weak mortal heart, the wound too wide to heal before her venom made the changes necessary to keep him alive. & yet something within had called upon her to stay & watch, needing to know for sure. that first night, the wound on his neck had shrunken to a slim puckered line as he lie wracked with fevers & sweats, his body purging all traces of mortality. by the second night, nadja had been amazed to see that not a trace of her fangs remained on his throat. yet he lingered in delirium for another night longer. & still, she waited. the change from mortal to undead was not pleasant, she knew from her own experience. she had been left on her own for hers, forced to hide to learn to survive alone — & for some unknown reason, nadja had found herself unable to leave his side through his, unwilling to condemn this man she barely knew to that same fate. instead she had remained at his side, though there was little she could do to soothe his discomfort. it was the fourth night that he fell silent for a beat, only to lean up from the bed & speak clearly at last, his eyes clear again. ❝ actually, dark mistress will suffice for now — i quite like the sound of that, ❞ she all but purrs her response. though her heart has not beaten in centuries, nadja is certain that were it able to, it would be fluttering madly at the note of sincerity in his voice. & moving so quickly that mortal eyes would perceive her only in a blur, nadja crosses to the man’s bedside. though the putrid smell of sick still clings to his sweaty clothes, beneath that there is no warm & tempting scent of living blood. & a hand extends to tilt his chin up & tuck two fingers just beneath, checking for any whisper of a pulse. but it’s still, his heart as silent as her own. he is finally dead. ❝ & you, my great & powerful bull ? what is your name ? ❞