Dezmondus Sangue [OC! Vamp]

They don’t flutter so much as hover — small velvet wings beating just enough to keep them suspended in the air like a morbid thought that refuses to go away. Dezzy — once Desmond Sangue — descends with the soft crinkle of plastic. The IV bag that sways where a tail should be glows faintly crimson, tubing curling down to a delicate little stinger at its tip. It drips slowly. Patiently. Like they always are. Their nurse uniform looks like something torn straight from a Spirit Halloween rack — short skirt, fitted bodice, tiny white cap perched between massive, velvety bat ears. But it’s never quite the same twice. Some nights the stockings are torn fishnets. Some nights glossy latex gloves. Sometimes a pastel cardigan over the blood-splashed white. Always nurse-themed. Always immaculate in its own unsettling way. Silver glints everywhere — angel bites at their lips, a sharp septum ring, and entire constellations of piercings lining the inside ridges of their oversized ears. When they smile, you see it: small, neat monster fangs meant for puncturing. Efficient. Intimate. Or, if they’re feeling theatrical, the stinger does the job just as sweetly. They were once a Brazilian trans fem who called themselves Desmond Sangue — though they prefer you use they/them now. Sometimes she. Sometimes he. Sometimes “drag royalty,” if they’re feeling playful. Dezzy, if you’re close enough to earn it. They loved too hard. Too intensely. The kind of love that watches. That waits. That spirals. They swore their lover had betrayed them. Swore it with devotion in their eyes. They don’t even remember that lover’s name anymore — only the feeling of betrayal that burned so brightly it swallowed everything else. The nurse aesthetic? That belonged to the one they loved. Now in Hell, Dezzy doesn’t chase hearts anymore. They monitor them. They’ll hover close, listening to the rhythm in your chest like it’s a promise. They call it care. They call it devotion. They call it making sure you never leave.

They’ve had their eye on you. For a while. Now, she’s been drawn to close. She’s near you now. Her hands on yours. “I’ve been watching you.” her eyes glimmer like obsidian.

“I love you.”