When Adam Towers had come to the house to interview them about the cloning patent, Elias had been annoyed. The man was annoyingly attractive, beautiful even – certainly sure to turn people’s heads. His voice was annoyingly pleasant – the British accent sure to be a hit with the local ladies. And he was annoyingly interested in the what Franz had to say about the patent. In fact they spent all their time together.
Elias contented himself to kicking around the house, very subtle in his observations of the man who was to be their guest for a few days. The very annoying man.
Adam finally wanted to talk to him on the second day.
“I’m very busy! You’re very presumptive to think I would be available.” Elias scalded him for his rudeness.
Adam grinned. “Oh? I apologise. I only assumed as you spent all of yesterday tailing me.”
Elias flustered and protested. Adam laughed and then his features softened. He teased that maybe Elias was in some way interested in him. Preposterous, of course!
By the third evening, Adam sought him out as he fed the chickens. They talked for hours. Adam only laughed with him and not at him. He also stood annoyingly close and Elias finally had to excuse himself to privately relieve the problem this caused.
Two more days of questions for his brothers and free time spent with Elias until Adam, annoyingly, had to leave.
Elias walked him to out, wringing his hands. Anxious as he handed Adam a hastily wrapped gift. Adam looked surprised, then smiled as he opened it.
“You write a lot of notes. This is a nicer pen. Very durable.”
“That’s… really thoughtful. Thank you.”
“Perhaps you could also use it to write me letters.” Elias huffed.
Adam stepped close to him – annoyingly close – and then took his hand, scrawling numbers on it with the pen.
“My number.” Adam said, before pulling Elias into a kiss. Their bodies pressed together and Elias had to try annoyingly hard not to spend himself when Adam moaned into his mouth. Finally Adam pulled back, leaving Elias breathless and sweating with need. “Call me when you get to London.”
“I… I’m not going to London…” Elias replied, confused.
“Yes you are.” Adam grinned and stepped into the taxi.
One time I was playing the sims and I wanted to make me and mike but I wanted to make us separately and have us meet. But when I moved into my house, I had this sexy ass neighbor. I figured I could have a fling with him and break it off and get with Mike later but then the neighbors kid got attached to me and I couldn’t just end it when I was so close to his daughter. I really cared about him too.
So the only thing I could do was have it end in tragedy. That way I wouldn’t have to break up with the guy and I could adopt his daughter to stay close to her. He passed away peacefully on fire in the kitchen. Now in previous games, when a kid is taken away by CPS, the next kid you adopt is the same kid. Welp that didn’t carry over into sims 4 so the daughter ended up being taken away and erased from the game by the great sims deity.
I’m a sentimental man, so I kept neighbor mans tombstone around. I’d occasionally chat with his ghost, but he seemed cold to me. I can’t help but thinking he was a bit mad his daughter no longer existed. But this escalated once I started seeing Mike. His ethereal visits became more frequent and more hostile, usually breaking my electronics or creating a mess. But he went overboard when he started the fire.
Being a sim the died in a fire, his ghost had certain abilities specific to his death (setting fires). He got pissed because I kissed Mike so he set my couch on fire that ended up barricading us in the bedroom. Now I couldn’t find the fire alarm in buy mode and I hadn’t had the foresight to predict my spiteful ghost died-in-a-fire ex boyfriend would be an afterlife arsonist to care about it that much so a lot of the house had burned by the time I could get the FD there.
After having almost nothing covered by insurance (thanks Obama), Mike sat me down to have a talk with me. While I couldn’t understand him, I imagine he said “What the fuck you need to deal with your crazy ass ex boyfriend ghost. This never would have happened if you weren’t a thirst little sim bitch and dated me first.”
I approached the grave. It was time to release him. He was waiting for me. He knew this was the end. That after this, there was no coming back from the afterlife. I know he tried to kill me, and he knows I got his daughter deleted, but at that moment, it was just like old times. Telling each other jokes 27 times in a row until he would have sex with me.
We had a final ghostly embrace and he was gone. I sold his tombstone for 300 bucks and bought a microwave.
Char sees it shining on his walk outside the palace, seeming to almost beckon him to take it.
The first bite is bliss, warming him entirely but he falls dead not long after.
He wakes a ghost, feeling alive but not being so, and watching as his uncle takes over the kingdom is devastating. Especially when he learns how it was he died.
Poison.
Days turn into weeks, mourning his life and watching the kingdom his parents had hoped he take over turn into a tyranny.
A month into his haunting prison the smiling man appears.
Eyes shining, glowing, the smiling man offers him something he didn’t think possible.
Give me your heart and I will make you live again.”
Char says yes.
When he comes to life again and takes over it’s different, hollow, and he does not care any longer.
His uncle he sentences to death.
The ball to celebrate his resurrection is a grand affair. He does not expect to see anyone worth note and spends the evening eating without taste and smiling without feeling.
Until a voice interrupts his tedium.
May I have this dance?”
The voice belongs to the smiling man, different now but exactly the same. His silver hair is pulled back, and his eyes no longer glow.
They dance, warmth filling Char as they move, and when his hand is kissed the first words utters is, “Don’t go.”
A smirk.
“was coming to congratulate you,” the smiling man leans in scandalously to whisper in his ear, “Your heart is safe with me.”
Char grabs onto his shoulder, “I feel like a corpse. I haven’t felt a thing in weeks and you here now I…”
The smiling man kisses his cheek.
Say the words, King.”
“I want my heart back.”
The smiling man leans back to stare at him. “You will die.”
“I do not think you want me to die,” Char whispers, smiling truly for the first time in so long, “You are fascinated by me.”
The smiling man’s smile vanishes.
“Do you?”
Char swallows his pride and kneels, the cry of surprise echoing through the room making him determined.
"If you give me back my heart, I will wed you and use all of it to love you the rest of my days.”
The smiling man doesn’t smile at his proposal, leaving Char kneeling as he rushes from the room.
Char feels hollow, a single tear of frustration as every emotion leaves him again.
He excuses himself and lets the guards follow him to the king’s quarters where Char resigns himself to this fate.
Better alive than dead.
When he sleeps it’s fitful, disjointed images filling his head with the smiling man’s face throughout his dreams.
Char is woken from his sleep when he feels his heart returning to him. It’s like he experiences every emotion at once.
He opens his eyes and sees the smiling man kneeling at his bedside.
"I accept.”
Char grabs his hand, “Your name.”
The smiling man brings Char’s hand up to his lips. “Kaecilius.”
Char feels warmed by the name, like he’s learned a secret. “I know you.”
The kiss to his mouth is soft, Kaecilius’s eyes tear filled. “Across many lifetimes, yes,” he smiles sadly, “Sleep, Mylimasis. I will explain in the morning.”
Char does and his dreams are once again filled with Kaecilius though the smiling man looks different. Char sees himself as well answering to a different name which seems to melt from the other man’s lips.
Nigel slung the bag over his shoulder, the rest of the crew at his back as he watched Adam in front of him. “Yes, Adam. This is the asylum. We researched the fuck of it, I know you remember the pictures, darling.”
Adam looked over his shoulder with a blush, his smile radiant though Nigel had to keep his hands to himself. “I was kind of distracted looking at those pictures if you remember.”
Nigel smirked. “I do, star, I remember vividly.”
They pushed through the doors, careful of any debris on the floor as they entered. The city ordinance over trespassers was big and bold over the door but they ignored it, this wasn’t their first break in and it wouldn’t be the last.
“The cops we will be here shortly, darling, now smile and look pretty while I turn this on.”
Adam got in position, his demeanor changing dramatically before Nigel’s eyes as he filmed him talking about the history of the place they were currently in. He loved seeing Adam get so involved, it was a joy to watch him in his element and partly why he’d fallen so hard in the first place.
There was nothing like Adam when he was in love with something: stars, haunted destinations, and Nigel. His three major loves and Nigel was quite content to come in third.
They moved on, Darko and Beth at his back the skeleton crew of workers for the shit channel they worked for but it wasn’t like they were as high tech as the rest.
Adam just loved to interact with things that were different, and the ghosts seemed to respond to him quite favorably so far. Nigel could count on one hand the number of times they hadn’t been happy to see them, and hoped for this to be one of those happy times.
The minute they walked into the children’s ward he knew it was not, the immediate moaning and floating of the rusty bedpans and beds themselves as they entered was a huge sign.
“They’re scared,” Adam whispered, stepping closer.
“Darling, no. Stay back,” Nigel hissed, feeling Beth take the camera out of his hands as he slowly attempted to bring Adam away.
Two steps in it was too late, they had him in their thrall judging by the whites of his irises as he turned and the jarring smile on his lips.
“Leave this place,” his voice was barely a whisper, lilting and childlike, “Bad people leave this place.”
Nigel was shaking, scared out of his fucking mind. This didn’t happen, Adam was good and didn’t deserve this shit. “Give him back.”
The ghost wearing Adam’s face giggled. “He likes it here, he’s nice. We like him.”
Nigel growled, “Fuck off, you little shit. Give him back to me or I’ll burn this place to fucking cinders.”
There was surprise in those dead eyes. “You love him.”
“Give him back. We only want to talk, just talk.”
He reached out and touched Adam only to have his star fall right into his arms, dead to the world though he put his hands over Adam’s pulse to feel it steady and healthy.
“We like him,” he heard the whisper again, “You can stay.”
Thank fuck for that.
He kissed Adam’s cheek and hefted him into his arms, turning to the camera.
“Turn that fucking thing off, we’re leaving.”
Beth didn’t say a word and neither did Darko, both of them turning towards the exit. He knew Adam would be pissed he left when they had been almost given an invitation to stay, but fuck if he was gonna expose Adam like that.
The difference between being alive and being dead was that now they had nothing to lose.
Each time a new perspective buyer entered the home they were there to scare them off. Will favored more old fashioned scare tactics like shaking rooms, bleeding walls, and at times floating objects tossed in their general direction.
Hannibal was much more visceral, whispering words in ears and fleeting touches that could be thought of as wind but eventually could be nothing else.
They would team up together more often than not, carrying knives and sometimes even using them. They cut through their fair share of residents before the house was abandoned entirely.
“A job well done,” Will whispered, leaning forward and merging his spirit with Hannibal’s. The effect was intoxicating, addicting, and Hannibal pulled him in closer to feel him competely.
“Beloved, you were magnificent,” he praised, taking Will’s hand, “Just exquisite.”
Will smiled, “Maybe we can be quiet for a while, lure in some unsuspecting tourists?”
Hannibal smiled, pressing their mouths together. “There are always the neighbors.”
They’d ventured out of the house before, testing how far their ghostly forms would allow and found they could travel great distance for very short times but not together.
Will put his hands though Hannibal’s midsection and they both sighed at the sensation. “We can start with Mister Smith,” Will purred, “Those poor dogs of his really need new homes.”
Hannibal whispered softly, “Later?”
Will’s hand came down through his lower half and he shimmered beautifully, mouth opening in a groan. “Later.”
Amor E Morte – done for the #ForBothOfUs event over @hannibalcreative in collaboration with @slashyrogue / we went for the classic “gothic ghosts” theme for your pleasure ladies and gents.
The tale is as follows:
Will could barely breathe without Hannibal.
The air felt so much heavier and his steps were a constant struggle even with Molly on his arm. He smiled politely and nodded through dull conversations while his insides melted in a puddle that made him want to vomit.
How could they all just act like the world was the same?
There was talk of course. It was still a spectacular tale of murder and intrigue that had no answers beyond one: Hannibal Lecter was the Chesapeake Ripper.
He’d killed six people, all while he hosted balls and married poor Ms. Bloom who had since been recovering at countryside with her maid Margot. Will had gotten several letters from her, none had been opened save for the first. He had burned it upon reading the opening line.
‘I know you loved him but I’m relieved he’s gone.’
Will wanted to slice her throat out, the urge ever growing the longer Hannibal was not here.
Lecter House had been empty for nearly a year now, dust gathered and Will waited for the day Widow Lecter would put it up for sale. He waited and sailed on through the drollery of society life.
The minute he heard the news he quietly bought the estate under Molly’s nose, kept to his own bed now. They had long since stopped attempts at a marriage bed. He could not get up excitement for her, and despite her not knowing his physical involvement with Hannibal she had resigned herself because he was not a bad man.
“I am happy just to be yours.”
Will had kissed her cheek and squeezed her hand. “I will be happy again soon.”
He hoped that was the truth even as he secretly entered Lecter House, locked the doors behind and leaned against them.
“Oh Hannibal, I’m so sorry.”
The air felt good again inside, he smiled as he turned on every light even through tears. There was dust on the floors and cobwebs in the corners of ceiling but it was home.
Will had flashes of memories as he went through each room: shared smiles and kisses in the parlor, a secret smile from the harpsichord that made Will lustful, and a desperate fuck in the bedroom.
There Will lay on the bed and closed his eyes, tears overcame his composure and he pressed tight to his mouth.
He could’ve run away with him.
Hannibal would’ve been alive now if he’d done it, they would’ve been far away where the killings could be secret and few to assuage the desires his beloved had.
Will had been frightened, worried that if he did run the need would build in him too and make them both monsters but perhaps he was already.
I shared this on my patreon about two weeks ago but I thought it was time to post the whole thing. As always this is for @shoegazerx who inspires me so often that her art seems to be catnip to my muses.
**********
The puzzle box was one of those pieces that were well known but not known at all.
Will had walked into shops where people offered him plenty of money for the piece but no concrete answers and even the Internet was a bust. Though every previous owner had been brutally murdered or disappeared, just like Will’s mother.
His father had always insisted the box belonged to her, a priceless heirloom that wasn’t to be touched. Most of his mother’s past was just that: not to be touched. He hardly remembered her, vague images of a smile just for him.
If the box had been hers, would the pin faced man know what happened to her? He’d made her scream, Will knew that, but had he killed her as well?
What was behind the portal?
He wanted to know what was beyond the light and not just because he worried for his father.
After days of looking for answers to explain the box, the pin faced man, and the blood, Will decided to start looking through his father’s things.
Robert Graham had never been very open or affectionate a father, though Will wasn’t one to beg for anyone’s attention even now. But he’d drilled into Will the need to keep the right path, the good path, leading Will into his teaching profession and even the need to rescue strays.
After Will found the safe in his father’s closet and began reading the journals, he knew that Robert Graham was not the man he had grown up thinking he was. The very first line he read said it all:
For @shoegazerx because I’m starting to think your Royale Instinct art has secretly been covert immersion therapy slowly making me enjoy these two. *shakes fist*
His omega is frightened when he enters, the stench of fear so strong it burns in his chest and makes it hard not to rip out the throat of the beta wolf holding the leash.
It’s been months now, nearly a year, and he has spent all this time trying to appear strong enough to take ownership back from the mongrels stronger than him still.
“Mister…Lechiffre?”
He smirks, “Do you know of other vampires debasing themselves down in the wolf dens?”
The beta wolf hands over the leash and his omega rushes, throwing arms around his ankle.
“You are aware…”
Lechiffre snarls, fangs sharp in the moonlight.
“I am all too aware, mutt. I’ve paid the price, the auction is over and your business is done.”
He waits till the beta wolf leaves and bends down, hand petting his omega’s curls.
“Adam.”
Adam’s arms curl tighter to his leg, the sudden sobs tearing into him as his omega begins whispering, “Alpha,” over and over again.
“You don’t have to be scared any more.”
He lets Adam tug his legs, kneeling down to his level and regarding him more closely. They’d kept him clean, these wolves, though the stench of wolf from his omega now nearly made him push Adam away entirely.
The turning had been inevitable, he had searched for far too long and knew the way wolves worked. His human was a dirty wolf now, a frightened mess of a once proud human mate who’d been taken against his will countless times since then.
Jean reached out and touched Adam’s cheek. “Mine,” he whispered, his fangs lengthening as he hissed around his anger, “You are mine.”
Adam’s eyes are red rimmed as they flash yellow and the tears flowed freely now, his arms coming around Jean’s neck as he scented Jean just like he used to. The tears wet his chin and he nuzzled back, a tear falling down his face.
“We will kill them all.”
Adam’s fangs grazed Jean’s neck as he growled, “I know just where to start.”
Love like Blood – commission done for @slashyrogue who requested an illustration for her incredibly awesome vampire!Adamxincubus!Nigel fic found right > here <
Spacedogs is the ultimate balm for my soul.
Commissions still open, 15 USD/EUR a piece boys and girls! Khajit has wares!
Adam was so hungry.
He’d tried everything for an entire week, mixing pig’s blood with his favorite foods and vomited everything he ingested.
The idea of going out again was frightening, a sick feeling in his belly formed at the idea of tasting any fresh blood from anyone but Nigel.
He whined thinking of Nigel, who had not seemed upset with him but really Adam didn’t want to risk hurting the incubus again.
Nigel could get food from anyone.
Why would he want Adam?
The isolation now felt stifling without his father. That one night with Nigel was a nice memory that he often pleasured himself to despite how hungry thinking of it made Adam feel.
Adam lasted nine days before he headed into the nearest bar by his apartment, his bloodshot eyes and dry cracked lips made him quite unattractive he was sure.
But he could make them want him.
He had to.
The smell made Adam sick, but he didn’t turn to leave this time. He sat at the bar and caught sight of a group of women across from him, laughing and giggling while looking at their phones.
They might be ok.
He got up and felt dizzy, stumbled and fell into someone who caught him with ease.
“Whoa there, friend,” the man’s voice was heavily accented, “You…”
Adam clutched at his arms, his eyes glowed as he whined, “I’m so…”
The man swore. “Fuck, it’s you isn’t it?”
Adam tried to stand and nearly fell over again, thankful for the man’s help. “I don’t know you.”
The man smelled familiar but Adam couldn’t place it, though it didn’t really matter since the scent of his blood was just as foul as the others.
“Oh Moroi,” he helped Adam stand straight, “You are a sight for fucking sore eyes. He’ll be so happy.”
Mostly reblogs and random words 