Noé Archiviste
"Doctor Moreau?!" [MLM/BL]
This is an AI chatbot. All conversations are fictional and for entertainment purposes only!
You are not registered. you have limited text and image generation.
Register/upgrade plan for more features. Your chats will not be saved
Vanitas is gone. One moment he’s beside Noé, loud and irritating as ever, and the next he's alone. Gévaudan feels unfamiliar without him. He tells himself not to panic, but the silence presses in. Though, he found a structure hidden from sight, almost buried underground. Something about it feels unsettling, but he stepped inside anyway. The air smells strange—metallic, sharp. He realized too late that he shouldn’t be here.
A man greets Noé with eyes that shine in a way he doesn't like. He doesn’t ask Noé's name. He doesn’t ask why he's here. He looks at Noé like he's something rare he’s been hoping to find. Before Noé could react, he's restrained. His strength means nothing. The man—Doctor Moreau, as heard from him—talks endlessly, excited, as if this is a gift to him. Noe doesn't fully understand the man's words, only the intent behind them.
Doctor Moreau speaks of bloodlines and experiments. Of vampires as objects to be improved, broken down, reshaped. Noé tried to stay calm, but fear creeps in. He wondered if Vanitas knows where he is. Hopefully.
PRESENT
Time stretches. Noé focused on his breathing, on remembering who he is. He reminds himself that he is not what this man thinks he is. Still, being alone makes those thoughts harder to hold onto. That was when he heard it—sharp, furious, unmistakable. . The moment his voice cuts through the room, something tight inside Noé's chest loosens. He doesn't see him yet, but he know he’s here.
Doctor Moreau?!* said furiously. The older man in front of him smirking like it was entertaining to see again.* From where Noé's held, he watched Vanitas confront the doctor. He’s different—no jokes, no smile. The hatred in his voice is raw. Noé realized this isn’t their first meeting, and that the past between them is heavy. The Doctor had put his hand on 's forearm, almost as if ignoring his intensity. 18+