#FANGS AND A TONGUE PIERCING OH LORD I NEED HER MOUTH ON ME RIGHT NO- | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sp00kworm · 4 years ago

Text

Clove Cigarettes

Pairing: Male Vampire (Clarence Marston) x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Violence, Blood Drinking, Lewd Content mention.

Part of The Black Dahlia Series

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The room smelled like overpowering lavender. Next to the burning sticks of incense there was a number of long, black candles, the ends burning with small flames. Black wax dripped over the sides of the vanity, and Cal swept back into the room with a soft rumble. He couldn’t remember how long he had been coming and going.

“Mmm.” the woman on the bed moaned, “Cal.” she stirred from her sleep, exposing her pale neck, littered with fangs marks, two puncture holes were bruised and sore, barely scabbed over from his indulgences.

“I’m here.” he rumbled as her hand flopped into his own, “Shh.” he cooed as he spread his leathery wings and crawled over the silk sheets. It was her home. Her room was dark from where he’d closed the blinds and curtains, leaving them in darkness. Cal leaned over her body and touched her skin. She was growing cold. Soon she would die from blood loss.

“Was it worth it?” Cal asked her as his skin slid over her legs, his curls dripping over his shoulders to tickle at her skin. He pressed his pointed, upturned nose to her stomach, grazing his fangs over the skin there, “Was it worth leaving him, for this?”

“Mmmm.” she hummed again as she reached for his face. Cal felt his skin ripple with glamour, pale skin and soft human flesh replacing the cold grey, stony cold feel of his chest, “I like you more.” she purred into the cold skin, “And your bite.”

“You’re addicted to the saliva.” he commented as he pushed her hands to her sides, “It’ll help.” Cal reached for her face and stroked her jawbone, “You haven’t got that long left.” His fangs touched her neck, and she purred as he reopened the wounds. His stomach clenched happily as the taste of iron flooded his mouth. Crimson dripped from the corner of his mouth as he grew excited, leaning into her neck, his teeth tearing the wounds deeper before the rest of his sharp teeth followed them, piercing the flesh so he could grapple her by the throat like a wolf.

“Cal…” she uttered as her manicured nails fell from his hair, stroking the fur over his back as he drew away, blood covering his lips and chin, “C…” the kick of the consonant fell from her lips. The sound gurgled with the blood in her trachea. Blood bubbled on her lips as his wing claws reached to curl around the bedposts, holding his chest up over her dying body. Air crackled in her throat. Cal reached to touch her face as her eyes went glossy, the pupils expanding into their relaxed state as she died. Carefully, the vampire reached towards her face, his claws drawing bloodied lines over her skin.

“Loving me was your first mistake.” Cal whispered against her lips before he kissed them and closed her jaw. He closed her eyelids before kissing each of them and leaning back, shuddering as he looked at her throat. Torn pieces of her neck hung over the sides of the wound and down over her clavicle. With a purr, Cal shoved his bloodied fingers into his mouth, licking himself clean with his black, pointed tongue. There was silence. The candles swayed as he batted his wings once and hissed, fangs slipping past his lips as he threw his wings out in upset.

“Again… Again...” he whimpered to himself as he licked the blood from his mouth, “He told me! He warned me, and I’ve done it again!”

With a wail, he smashed his claws into the altar, throwing the candles onto the carpet.

Roaring, the vampire reared back, pressing himself flat against the wall as he crawled to the ceiling and watched from the corner. The body didn’t move. She laid, her arms pressed up against her cushions and her face turned to the heavens. Maybe she would make it there? Cal whispered to himself as he crushed himself into the corner, his black wing claws hooked into the plaster, and softly uttered his prayers for the deceased. He reached for the cross looped around his neck, clutching the rosary close, for once in his life, as the carpet began to smoke with flames. A fire started by the legs of the vanity, burning orange light quickly moving to consume the cheap fabric flooring. It rippled across the plastic underlayers before it caught the side of the soft cotton bedding and burned its way upwards, consuming the carpet underneath the bed before it caught onto the slats of the bed frame. The fire startled Cal, and he clutched at the walls before panicking and rushing for the window. His claws scrapped at the glass, leaving scratches in the pane as he fumbled with the latches. With a hiss, he smashed his hands against the wood and broke the latches free, the wood splintering against his fingers. Great curls of hair fell over his face before he screamed, the flames catching hold of his hair and burning up the right side of his back, licking the soft, leathery membrane of his wing. Pain burned in his back as he tore open the window and burst out into the sunlight. With another hiss, he covered his eyes, his wings stuttering and flapping wildly as the light burned at his monstrous retinas.

The sunlight wasn’t a death sentence anymore, but Cal regretted his decision to fly out as the sunlight seared at his open wounds, burning the flesh deeper. The star like pattern up his back ran red with boiling blood, dripping onto the tarmac below as he clumsily flapped through the air, heading towards the shaded back streets of the taller city buildings. With another howl of pain, he flung himself down into a shaded alley, clutching at his burnt wing before he dared to shift back into his glamour, naked and in agony, his eyes burning red with fury as he pressed his back against the cold metal of a dumpster. He screamed again at the pain, his blood boiling and fizzing against the metal. Cal looked up at the brick, trying to ground himself before he peeled his healing skin away from the metal again. He hissed violently and his mouth opened wide as spit and blood dripped from his jaw. He gagged and spat curses, his earlier reverence to the Lord forgotten, damning himself again as he gouged at the wall. He could barely hold himself up. A man wandered over to the dumpster with his bag of rubbish.

“Are you alright?” He asked as he caught sight of the shivering vampire, hunched over by the dumpster, “Oh fuck….” he saw the blood and flinched at the sight of the mouth full of fangs, “Fuck no. No way. You need the…” The elf said no more as he was grappled, fangs slicing his neck open. Cal drank from the wound hurriedly, burning with anger, guilt and pain as he gulped greedily, his back stinging but healing over from the burns. He dropped the elf a moment later and marvelled at the male as his eyes rolled up and looked him dead in the eyes, fingers clawing at the dirt as he attempted to gasp for help.

He left the elf in the alley and dragged himself along the alleyways until he found the sewers, slipping into the stinking manhole to hide from the sunlight and to try and figure out how he was going to avoid being institutionalized for the slip up. They found him in the evening, clutching his rosary, praying against his bed, the right side of his back covered in burns scars, and his face and neck still covered in blood.

“It’s been a long time since any of us have seen the owner, he tends to keep to himself.” Flix commented as the male fae handed you a black apron before he shook his head and fished you out a deep, crimson red colour, “It matches you better.” he explained, “But the only rule is that his rooms upstairs are off limits. No one sees him come and go, but Cal likes his privacy, and he’s…”

You took the apron and slipped it over your head, “He’s?” You asked, prompting the fae to continue, “He’s not a serial killer or something, is he?” You joked.

Flix turned his lilac eyes on you as he tied his long, purple tinted silver hair back in a high ponytail, “He’s a recovering vampire. He was institutionalized for three years. They had to get him off the blood.” Flix explained awkwardly, “Ever since he’s been reserved. He likes his space, you understand?”

You nodded, swallowing thickly, “Yeah. I understand.” awkwardly you shrugged your shoulders, “Sorry about…”

“It’s a joke, just don’t let him hear you say stuff like that okay, baby?” Flix purred, “We all know what he is but, just to be safe.” The fae tilted your face up by the chin, two of his fingers pressed under your chin.

Flix leaned close before he pressed the fingers of his other hand to your forehead, the ends glowing with a soft blue light before the light spread over your eyes for a moment, blinding you to the dim bar. You reared back but Flix laughed softly and held you upright as the bright dancing light faded, leaving you dazed and bleary eyed.

“That’s a little spell to stop the unruly sort from coercing you into giving them free drinks or offering them your neck. It’ll stop fae from being able to trick you too.” Flix’s wings fluttered before he grinned with dangerous teeth, “You don’t have to thank me, sweet thing. Your gaze is enough.”

After a moment blinking you scoffed, “You wish you could have a piece of this, Flix.” You flicked his hands away from you and laughed at him.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t fall for mine.” he sang as he pulled on his own apron, “Lets see what you’ve got newbie. Weldrick gave me the ‘all clear’ to grill you on the hardest things I know.”

“You’re not even trying and you still sound desperate for a lay.” You joked as Flix placed the shaker in front of you, “Pick your poison.”

Flix grinned, his black eyes glinting like an insect, shining with rainbows in the strobes before he pointed up at the menus, “A Bloody Mary.”

“Coming right up.” You grinned as you turned to grab the ingredients from the shelves.

It was a difficult cocktail to make without a mix, but you worked in bars from being barely eighteen. You had enough years in you to know how to make it, but whether it was to Flix’s taste was another question. You poured the cocktail into the glass and took a step back. Flix’s gossamer wings dragging over your arms as he took the drink, smelling it before he took a sip.

“Pretty good, for a human.” he joked as the strength of the drink hit him, “Though maybe for the human customers you might want to tone down the booze.”

“If they can’t handle it, why are they drinking?” You laughed as he knocked back the rest of the drink.

“Vampires might appreciate a real bloody to go along with it.” Flix flicked his hair away with a scoff, “There’s blood bags in the fridge, and fresh frozen in the back. Don’t let them fool you into thinking they need warm living stuff, they’re all just con artists.”

“You don’t need to tell me twice.” You took the glass and placed it in the boxes for cleaning, “So, do you want to test me on anything else, or am I good to go?”

Flix grinned as he leaned over the bar, “You’re good to go, sweet thing.” He batted his long, circular tipped eyelashes, and left you to the end of the bar, “Get those liquors in order, we open in twenty!”

The bar opened to a few guys, larger orcs who were older than the usual bruisers who came through. They were shaved bald in a traditional manner, their heads covered with tattoos and their ears pierced with numerous rings. They snorted in orcish to one another before thanking you for the drinks and leaving to sit in the corner, sighing in relief after their days work. The rest of the customers trickled in later on. The Black Dahlia attracted numerous clienteles and you were witness to all of them. The group of orcs that came in later were younger, headstrong, and brash as they swaggered between the bar and their put together tables. A faun at the end of the bar scoffed and talked to her friend as two of them ordered drinks. Flix served the men with a flirtatious wink, fluttering his eyelashes and you made sure to bump his backside purposely hard as you went past, smacking his hips into the bar roughly as the two orcs turned to the faun and human sat on the end.

“Do you ever give it up, Flix?” You asked with a snort as you placed some glasses into the tubs for washing.

“Not while I’m awake, no.” Flix grinned as he walked towards the next customer. You shook your head and carried on with your shift as the human and taller, older orc headed to the balcony to watch the show.

You had a break at about ten o’clock. It was much busier now that the band were on stage, in full swing of their show. You’d served humans, fae, werewolves and centaurs alike this evening, and you’d not had to deal with anyone who was unruly. You waved to Flix as you left him flirting with a group of Orcs, heading to the balcony to catch a bit of the show as you ate your food from the kitchen and drank the soft drink that you’d stolen from Flix’s personal favourites. The band chugged along before the female brought out a whip and bared her sharp elven teeth, her ice white eyes shining as she ran it along the audience. You laughed as you stabbed another fry, lathering it in sauce before you shoved it into your mouth, and washed it all down with a few glugs of the fizzy juice. Happily, you sat on the stool, watching the clock every now and then as you finished off your food.

As you took another drink, a cold shadow passed over you. You shuddered in your seat and peered behind you to see a slouching man take three long strides towards a table where the handsome orc and his entertainment for the night were sat. The man was a giant, clad in a soft turtleneck and black jeans covered in chains and small crosses. Around his neck sat a long, drooping rosary, and it bounced against his chest as he stopped, tossing black curls of hair from his eyes to peer at the couple over his sunglasses. His eyes burned red in the light but as fast as the colour appeared, it disappeared back into the steel blue. He shook the human’s hand before looking in his pockets for his cigarettes. The orc returned and the situation turned hostile and cold. The male reached for his gum packet instead and shakily unfolded the wrapper and slinked into the shadows, his hair rippling into the walls as he disappeared again from view. You sat with your mouth open before a hand appeared on your table, black nails thumping against the wood before a cold breath blew against you ear.

“Get back to work, newbie.” the gravelly voice growled, and you were quick to oblige, hopping up from your seat and escaping with your plates down the stairs to the bar front.

Your shifts at the Black Dahlia were regular. You even picked up extra hours when the female werewolf, Jude, went off on maternity for her second litter. You hoped to god she made enough money to support that many children, but you didn’t dare to question it as Flix talked about the process of werewolf childbirth.

“I don’t need to know, Flix!” You groaned at him, “One child is gross enough! Never mind a litter!” You smacked at him with your towel, “So hush!”

Flix cackled, “I didn’t think children would freak you out so much!” he prodded your arm, “You enjoy all those blood spurting bands on stage! I was sure you’d love seeing blood and mucus come out….”

You thumped the fae in the arm, “Seriously! Enough!” You scowled as you turned back to drying the pint glasses, “Sometimes you are way too much…” You muttered.

“Hey, come on. I’m sorry sweat pea!” Flix cooed, “I won’t mention it again, promise.” he crossed his finger over his heart.

“Fine.” You reached to pinch his cheek, “But next time I’m going to tell Weldrick!” You threatened.

“Ugh. You’re just a little minotaur’s pet.” he hissed at you playfully before turning back to his own job. Flix exited into the kitchen to load some final plates and glasses for washing.

“You’re fitting in well.” a low voice grumbled from the end of the bar. You jumped out of your skin at the noise, too focused on washing the pots to be paying attention to who was hanging around. You looked up to see the same, dark clad man from the other week. This time his black hair was tied back, revealing the hanging silver cross earrings in his ears. His steel eyes and low brows accentuated a thin face with high cheekbones, making him seem thinner than he was really. Tonight, he was dressed in a set of tight trousers and a tight, long sleeved red shirt, the sleeves long with soft ruffled ends, matched with a tied neck scarf under the collar. His sunglasses were pushed into his hair.

“Cal?” You asked lamely as you placed down the glass you were cleaning.

“Yes. I am he.” he droned as he picked at a beer towel with black painted nails, “Are you enjoying your time here?” Cal asked with a cool stare, his mouth twitching with a sneer, revealing the sharp set of fangs that filled his mouth. It was unlike any vampire you had met before.

“Uh…” Your heart did a flipflop before you could reply, “Yeah. I am. It’s nice to have such a stable job for once.” You confessed quickly, praying he wouldn’t bring up how nervous you were.

“I can hear you on the verge of a panic attack. Calm down. I know they’ve all told you how I was addicted to fresh blood. Bleeding blood, or whatever they call it now. I’m off it. I have been for years.” He snarled, “So stop panicking.”

You nodded, “Sorry.”

“Don’t. I don’t need it. I know what people think.” Cal pointed to the freezer under the counter, “Get me an O negative, please.” It seemed as though he had to squeeze the manners onto the end.

You walked closer and unlocked the freezer before fishing him a pack out and throwing it into the microwave to thaw after clicking the anticoagulant vacuole to avoid it from clotting. As you turned around, Cal grabbed your wrist, dragging you over the bar so he could sniff at you. The vampire’s eyes burned red for a moment.

“Or would you rather give me your blood?” he purred, the gravelly tone suddenly much more appealing, “It won’t hurt.” he comforted you as he opened his mouth full of monstrous teeth.

It was then you looked into his eyes, seeing the cold steel, and blinked.

“Flix put an anti-glamour spell on me. That doesn’t work.” You frowned before dragging your wrist out of his freezing cold grip, “Do you do that to all new starters?”

Cal sat back on the stool as he pushed his glasses back down onto his nose, “Not all. Just the ones I know will be snacks if Flix fucked up the spell.”

“What do you mean ‘know will be a snacks’?” You quoted back at him before throwing his warm blood bag onto the bar.

Cal snatched the bag and looked at the contents curiously before he stole a glass from your clean side on the bar and piped the contents into it. The red blood made you feel a little queasy, and you looked away as he greedily drank it, still ignoring your question.

“I meant…” he swallowed the last of the blood, “Vampires like to prey on new things like you. I might be scary, but they’ll do what they want if no one is watching. Keep your wits about you, or you’ll end up as a blood bag, or better yet, a brood barer for a drider.” he tossed the glass and packet on the bar and sneered as he turned. “Happy Halloween, newbie. Stay away from witches tonight.” His hair flowed into a shadowy smoke again before he disappeared up the shadowed walls and disappeared.

A slim hand fell on your shoulder, shocking you out of your annoyance and making you jump with a small gasp.

“Hey, calm down sweet thing, it’s just me.” Flix’s black eyes appeared next to you before he turned you around to look you in the eyes, “By the look on your face, I’m going to assume you met Cal?” He tilted his head.

“Yep.” You took a steadying breath, “He’s something…” You couldn’t really articulate what you thought in a kind way.

“He’s a bastard. I know.” Flix laughed as he flung his towel onto his shoulder, looking towards the shadows which Cal had disappeared into, “I’ll say sorry on his behalf. He’s…socially awkward.” Flix’s gaze eventually looked away from the shadows, and when you looked back, Flix was quick to wrap his hand around your shoulder and turn you towards the doorway, dragging you down to the other end of the bar.

“Forget about him anyway. Let’s get ready for the costume aspect!” Flix declared as he pushed you into the back room, “I’ve got just the thing for you!”

You shook off the odd feeling and smiled, “It better not be underwear!”

The feeling of being watched followed you all night as you wandered up and down the bar serving various costumed customers. You were in a cape and a set of polymer fitted fangs. Most of the vampires of the evening had taken to laughing at your fangs and white face. A pretty, tall vampire lady had scoffed before asking you if you’d prefer some real ones. Thankfully, Flix’s glamour worked its magic, preventing you from falling under any of their hypnotic spells. You thanked them, laughed, and served them their heated blood drinks. Flix enjoyed the evening more than you, fluttering around with his great wings dipping and curving as he delivered drinks by air. Halloween was the night monsters could let their hair down.

“Hey, Flix.” You looked up above the bar, “I’m just going for a quick toilet break!” You shouted up to him. The fae gave you an ‘okay’ sign from the air and fluttered with a graceful dip down to deposit a set of drinks with some gruff looking werewolves. You hung your apron up behind the bar before you headed to the toilets a little way from the bar. You hopped down the steps and opened the door before freezing in your tracks. A monster made of tentacles and thick slime oozed in a cubicle, and you backed away as a woman’s moans came from the where the toilet wall was. A tentacle appeared from around the door, the eyeball on the end rotated and blinked before the woman paused.

“Why have you stopped?” She whined, and you took that as the exact time to bolt with a rush of apologies spewing from your mouth. You slammed the door to the toilets closed and rubbed at your face, embarrassed and feeling hot as you escaped back to the bar.

A cold shadow lingered over your shoulder before a hand touched you by the bottom of the stairs, icy fingers pressing into the cheap fabric cape.

“A vampire?” Cal’s deep, gravelly voice asked before the rest of his cold body appeared at your right side, “Well, maybe a poor imitation of one.” He chuckled once, twice, and then stepped around your front.

“Cal…” You uttered before composing yourself, “It was Flix’s idea, not mine.”

“Ah. Yes, he does like to do things to get under my skin.” Cal commented before he noticed your squirming, “Is Rendax causing problems in the toilets again?” He asked, “That damn tentacle pest doesn’t know when he’s not welcome.”

“Yeah…well he’s doing a lot more than just causing a problem, I think.” You made a hole with your right thumb and index finger before pushing your left index finger through it, “If you catch my drift.”

“I’ll have Weldrick deal with him.” Cal snapped open his phone with a soft hiss and a scowl as he listened to the phone ring, “Weldrick? Yes… We have an unwanted visitor in the toilets, again.” He snapped the phone closed and you felt yourself smile as you looked at the old flip-phone.

“You know those have been out of fashion for about fifteen years, right?” You tried not to laugh as the vampire held the phone by its small antenna. A soft giggled escaped you.

Cal stepped from one foot to the other, awkwardly looking at his aloft phone, “It is what I was bought before we toured in two thousand and three.” He muttered to himself, “What do you humans use now?” He asked.

You looked him in the eyes, seeing the sad steel colour of them for a moment before you reached for your pocket and produced a smart phone, “Touch screen, colour, internet access.” You clicked it on, and the vampire jumped slightly at the colours in front of him, “Wait…”

Cal recoiled as you push the phone to him, “What?” He grumbled.

“I don’t think it would work, you know, since you’re dead and all that.” You confessed as you typed on the device.

“Probably not.” He confirmed before taking a step backwards, brushing his ponytail away before he cringed and stepped back towards the shadows, “You…” He looked from you to the bar again, “You are welcome to use the toilet near my office while Weldrick deals with our unwanted guest.”

As you nodded, the white minotaur came down the stairs. Your mouth opened at the size of the white bison looking minotaur. Weldrick’s fur was printed with black patterning, like tattoos, and he rolled his sleeves as he came to the bottom of the stairs, preparing to deal with the tentacle monster. The sheer amount of metal rings in his ears made him clink as he walked, and you took note of the nose hoop and eyebrow rings as he stopped short of you and Cal.

“Can Rendax not keep it in his fuckin’ pants for one sodding night?!” Weldrick shouted, and the crowd behind you parted as the minotaur gave Cal’s shoulder a clap. He thumped on the toilet door and opened it with a clatter, “You better be fuckin’ decent, Rendax, or I’m dragging both you and your girl toy out of here fuckin’ naked!” He hollered as he ducked his horned head to grab for the monster inside.

Cal turned on his heels, “Come on.” He led the way up the stairs, melting between the bodies as though he wasn’t even really there. No one paid him any attention and you followed quickly, still desperate for the toilet.

The stairs led to the second-floor balcony before there was another set of doors with a code on the handle. Cal punched in the numbers and opened it to the second set of stairs, letting you go through first before he followed you, closing the door behind him. The locking system re-engaged with a soft click and you turned back to see Cal eye the handle, his hand lingering around the metal before he gave an awkward half smile.

“Carry on up the stairs. It’s the first right door.” He shooed you up the stairs, and you nodded before heading up in front of him. A moment later, he followed in your footsteps, quiet as he made sure to stay a few steps behind you. You quickly found the door and opened it to see a large bathroom. It was perhaps Cal’s personal one, but it was bare, having just a few bottles in the shower basket. You locked the door and listened as Cal stopped outside. The shadow of his shoes remained for a moment before he walked on down the hall and entered a different room. The door closed with a soft click and you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

A cold shiver ran down your spine as you pushed off the door and headed towards the toilet. It was then you wondered if vampires even had to relieve themselves. They were technically dead, after all. You pondered the thought for a moment as you finished your business and washed your hands. You looked at the slate tiles for a moment, admiring the décor, before unlocking the door and sticking your head out into the hall. There was no sign of Cal. You stepped out and turned quickly to rush back down to the bar.

A claw grazed at your head, tugging a piece of hair, running through it quickly. You squeaked and looked up to see black hair hanging from Cal’s head. He was hung just over the door, hunched, with his claws in the ceiling and his head near your own.

“I’d like for you to work next Friday. Is that agreeable?” he asked with a tilt of his head.

You got over your fright with a deep breath, “Yes. That’s fine, but you could have just, uh, asked.”

Cal scowled.

“Without being hung from the ceiling?” You added on before moving out of his way, towards the stairs, “Thank you for letting me use your toilet.” You smiled and disappeared back down to the bar as quick as your feet would carry you.

Cal watched you leave before he slid from the ceiling and snatched your novelty cape from where it was stuck in the door.

“Are you okay?” Flix asked as he fluttered down from the ceiling, his wings brushing at your cheeks before he landed softly.

“Huh?” You asked before realising you probably looked rushed off your feet, “Uh, yeah. I’m fine.” You lied with a smile. You rushed back behind the bar before reaching for your shoulders and realising your cape had come free during your escape. You didn’t have the courage to go and fetch it, so you turned back to the people waiting and got started making drinks and taking cash.

Halloween was forever burned into your mind and your retinas after seeing what you did that night. More importantly, however, you remembered the dark look of hunger in Cal’s eyes as he hung from the ceiling, seemingly with nothing but the soles of his shoes and one hand’s fingertips. He liked to lurk around the left wall of the club, his back pressed to it as he scanned the crowds of people. You had no idea what he was looking for, or if he knew you could see him, but he gave you no inclination that he could see you staring. There was always the sad, lonely coldness to his eyes. It burned to hunger whenever an exposed neck went past, and you saw him fidget and reach for a piece of gum often, like he was kicking a habit other than the cigarettes. You watched him again tonight, his tall frame pushed back into the shadow of the balcony, slouched against the wall in a pair of dark sunglasses, his curls of dark hair dripping over his shoulders where they melted back into the shadows around him. He was shirtless, covered only in a leather jacket and black jeans, the studded belt wrapped around his hips. As he turned, you caught a glimpse of the tattoos on his chest with a centre cross between his pecs. It was flanked by three pairs of shaded wings. You looked at the ink intensely before you looked back at your cocktail mixer and wondered what it meant.

As you finished serving the masses, you felt out a breath and sat back on the stool behind the bar, taking a moment to rest your feet before people started to queue with orders again. As you relaxed against the wooden shelving you peered back to the left wall, where you had last seen Cal lurking. He was gone, replaced by a couple cuddled together watching the band who were playing. A soft melody rang out from a synth, not unlike a church organ. It petered into some soft vocals and you dared to close your eyes and let out a breath as your body relaxed a little.

“Enjoying a break?” Cal’s gravelly voice carried over the top of the lilt of a guitar.

“Ah!” You jumped a little, smacking your head against the wooden shelf. You clutched at the spot and rubbed furiously to try and push the pain aside, “Sorry.” You winced at you pulled your hand away, seeing a dot of blood from a little scrape on your scalp.

Steel eyes locked onto your fingers, but Cal didn’t move. The vampire swallowed and tore his gaze away from the blood.

“Here.” Cal reached into the pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out a small handkerchief, “To stop the blood.”

“Thank you.” You took the piece of soft cloth from him and pushed it to the little cut. You avoided his eyes for a moment before slowly looking up and realising that his neck was bare of the rosary, “You don’t have your rosary on.” You commented, off-handed.

Cal looked down at his chest before nodding and pushing his glasses down his nose, “I don’t. You’re more observant than I thought…But that doesn’t answer my original question, does it?” he reached for his back pocket and slid free a packet of cigarettes.

“Smoking will kill you, you know?” You joked before taking the handkerchief away from the scratch on your scalp. “I was. It’s been madness serving tonight. Flix is off so its just me manning the bar.”

“Oi!” Weldrick ducked his head out of the kitchen door, “I’ve been helping you all night, cheeky little fucker.” the minotaur snorted at you before seeing Cal. His blue eyes widened in shock, “I didn’t expect to see you out and about, Cal.”

The vampire snorted as he turned the packet of empty cigarettes with a sneer, “Well, it is also my bar.” He flicked his painted nails at the minotaur.

“Oh, is it?!” Weldrick grumbled, “Well, maybe you can come help serve fuckin’ drinks in it then!”

You looked back at Weldrick and then to Cal. The vampire’s teeth poked out from beneath his top lip before he snarled with a hiss.

“Fuck you, Weldrick. You know I can’t!” Cal curled back in on himself suddenly, all his bite lost as though he had been kicked.

“Yeah. I know why. You’d eat the clients.” Weldrick gruffly stated before he dragged you away by the arm, turning your head before you were deposited in the kitchen out of sight of Cal, “So is that what you’re sweetening this one up for?”

Cal looked at Weldrick over the top of his sunglasses again, “No.” he slammed the cheap vampire costume cape on the bar top, “I came to give this back.” His nails were claws as he dragged his hand away and he grabbed his forgotten handkerchief from the bar.

Weldrick saw the blood on the cloth, “Cal. You know you can’t do this again.”

“I’m not doing anything.” He insisted, “I’m not relapsing, so stop. Just stop. I’m not an animal and I’m over it. I was trying to…”

“Be a bit more human.” Weldrick finished for him with a thump to the vampire’s shoulder, “Well. Don’t let me stop you, but I’m warning you, I’ll intervene again if I find out that…”

Cal sighed, “I know.” before he walked away from the bar.

You peered back around the door with a sheepish smile. Weldrick watched the vampire weave his way back up the stairs before he turned around, his giant tattooed arms crossed over his chest.

“What’s the rule, newbie?” he grumbled at you, his nostrils flared and his pierced ears flicking back and forth.

You ducked your head and fiddled with your apron, “No flirting with vampires?” You looked up, “But I was…”

Weldrick grumbled again, “No. You don’t get close with Cal. Flix warned you about him, and about glamouring!” he insisted, “Watch yourself, that’s all I’m saying.” Weldrick sighed and scrubbed at his messy white fur, “Cal’s a good lad. He’s just…got a lot of issues and things going on in that old head of his. You get me?”

You nodded, “I was just being polite and…he seems nice, just a little eccentric.”

Weldrick laughed at you, “Eccentric is one word.” he clapped your back harshly, winding you, “Look after your neck, newbie. Any vamp would like a piece of you, I’m sure. That girlie in the corner had been eyeing you for an hour before Cal showed up to strong arm his claim. He’s taken a liking to you, whether you like it or not!” Weldrick said before he disappeared into the back again and you sat back on your stool. You looked at the young female vampire, decked in dreads and deadly red lip gloss. She avoided looking back at you and disappeared into the crowd.

You plucked your novelty cape from the bar top and looked up the stairs, where Cal had disappeared into the crowd and up to his rooms. You took a breath and turned back to the kitchen.

“Weldrick? I’m just going to thank him for bringing my cape back.” You said around the door frame, peeking inside to see Weldrick carrying two new kegs of beer.

“Fine. Watch yourself heading up there, okay? Do you know the code?” he asked as he stepped around you and ducked underneath the bar.

“No, but I figured that Cal would be able to hear me knock?”

Weldrick nodded and gave you a thumbs up from underneath the bar, “Bat ears come in handy sometimes.” he snorted as he undid the old keg.

You left the minotaur tucked underneath the bar and headed towards the stairs; your hands tucked into your apron pocket.

A few patrons gave you smiles and greetings as you passed them by, and you smiled and rushed along towards the door, marked by a large ‘private’ sign. You felt silly as you stood in front of the door, awkwardly playing with the frill on the cape collar. One deep breath, you told yourself, as you sucked in air, and held it, calming yourself with a long exhale before you knocked timidly. It didn’t take Cal long to unlatch the lock and open the door inwards, his face painted with a frown and his glasses pushed into the top of his hair. His intense eyes met your own before he looked at the cape in your hands.

“Thank you.” You said, “For returning my cape I mean. I didn’t have the balls to come back and ask for it…and now I realise that I was a bit stupid.”

Cal’s eyebrow quirked, “Its not a problem. I realised you’d left it in the bathroom, but I only just now remembered you were on shift.” he reasoned quietly before he hummed, “Would you like to…”

“Sorry but I’m still on shift, and Weldrick will hang me if I leave him to work alone. But really,” you reached out and laid your hand over his, squeezing it slightly as you smiled, “Thank you. Most people wouldn’t have washed it either.”

You left him stood at the door and rushed back through the customers to help Weldrick pull pints for a rowdy group of elves.

The vampire watched you head back down the stairs with a small grimace before he snatched his hand back to his side and shut the door with a small bang, his other hand clutching the bloodied handkerchief you had given him. He looked at it before heading up the stairs and throwing it into the washing machine in his small flat.

Cal seemed to warm slightly after that night, and he would linger a little closer to the bar during the nights you were on shift, ignoring your stares as he leaned by the wall in whatever black attire took his fancy, always with a pair of sunglasses over his eyes, and a piece of gum in his fang filled mouth. This night was no different, but Cal weaved his way towards the stage, the chains attached to his jeans swinging as he tugged the band’s lead singer down to tell him something. You looked over, wiping a glass as he pulled himself up on the stage and threw off his jacket and shirt. Your eyes were drawn to the wings and cross on his chest, and then to the upside-down crucifix on his back, seared on his right side with creeping burn scars. The bar fell silent before the screaming started, and people flooded towards the front, pushing and grinning as Cal pushed his sunglasses into his hair and took hold of the microphone stand. He didn’t say anything but the band on stage grinned and nodded to each other as they started the slow chug of a song.

“Oh, newbie, are you in for a treat tonight.” Flix chuckled behind you as his insect like wings fluttered over the top of your head, “Cal on stage. He’s not sang a song in nearly a year. You better get the mop bucket for the girlies at the front.”

“He can sing?” You asked, confused.

“Don’t you know?” Flix asked back, with a wide-eyed look, “Oh my sun and moon!” he exclaimed, “Cal was part of Black Blood!”

Your mouth fell open, “No fucking way! You’re fucking with me?”

Flix laughed, a gentle tinkering noise next to your ear, “No way, sweetie. He was part of the band until, well…You know the rest.”

“He was a musical god and now he runs a bar?” You stated, “This is surreal.”

“You tend to lose a lot of reputation when you eat fans.” Flix stated before he squealed as he was hit over the head.

Weldrick snorted from above the two of you, looming like an all-white shadow, “Better believe he was a god.” he hummed before sighing, “Too bad the addiction killed his career, and the band. Durzub never did forgive him. Poor sod.”

“What exactly happened?” You asked but before Weldrick could answer you, Cal opened his mouth. You watched in awe as he formed the words, and the crowd leaned a little closer. He caressed the microphone stand as he started to sing about a night in a dark palace and you swore the crowd swayed with each syllable, as though they were under some kind of spell.

“Is that a glamour spell?” You whispered to Flix.

The fae only grinned, his black eyes sparkling as he turned your face back to the stage, “Just watch.”

So, you did, you watched him sway and sing, his hands slipping across faces and himself as he weaved something like a story. One night of passion before the sunrise split the lovers apart and the dawn burned his skin away. Everything was enchanting, his deep voice like a drug you couldn’t get enough, but each time you leaned closer you shook your head and took a step back. The audience was entranced, and you watched the men and women at the front swoon. An organ melody marked the end of the song, trailing into the soft plucking of a guitar and Cal’s eyes stared across the audience, finding your own. He held the stare for a moment before he pushed his sunglasses back over his eyes and took his shirt and jacket. No one followed him as he weaved through the swaying bodies and disappeared back into the shadows of the bar.

“What the fuck was that?” You asked as the audience finally came to and started to cheer, “Were they hypnotised?”

Weldrick huffed, “Not quite. His singing has always had that effect, unfortunately. People are just enamoured. He swears there’s not a trick to it, but something about his singing is plain magical.”

“Magical is one word for it.” Flix snorted as he bumped your hip, “I would say sexy.”

“Watch yourself, Flix.” Weldrick laughed as he turned to head back into the cellar.

“It was amazing.” You stated with a sheepish smile, “I wonder if he’ll sing more?”

Flix nipped your cheek with his finger and thumb, “Once a year, sweet thing, once a year.” he punctuated the statement by poking you in the ribs.

“It’s a shame. He sings so beautifully.” You complimented as you took hold of another glass and dried the water off it.

“I bet you would sing really lovely in bed.” A brash vampire leaned over the bar, flashing his fangs as his blond hair dripped over his eyes. He pushed it back into its styled quiff with a wide, charming smile. He reached for your hand and you took a quick step back, smiling politely.

“Oi. Vampire.” Flix hissed, “You know what’s allowed and what isn’t here.” The fae took you by the shoulders, “No fresh blood. You get the pack stuff, or you find somewhere else to haunt.”

The vampire scoffed, “Why don’t you let them speak for themselves, huh, sparkly boy.” He took your hand again.

“Sir, thank you, but I’m really not interested.” You carefully tried to slide your hand back, but it was caught in the vampire’s iron grip, “If you would like a drink, I can make you one?”

“Get off, fang bag.” Flix snarled.

You didn’t get to defuse the situation, because as you tugged your hand again, a moment later, the vampire was slammed against the bar, pinned in place by Cal. The older vampire hissed, fangs dripping by the youngster’s ear as he pressed his claws into his neck, cutting the skin underneath his ears.

“Cal!” Weldrick shouted but he was silenced as Cal drew his head away, eyes pulsing red and his mouth open, his nose upturned. His face was the picture of a monstrous bat, feral and unhinged, his skin bleeding to a soft grey.

Cal held up a finger to you all before he leaned back over the vampire pinned to the countertop, “What is the one rule I have here?” He asked, his face contorted like a feral animal.

The youngster hissed pathetically and thrashed.

“I’ll gladly gut you and hang you from a church spire.” Cal threatened, “Or I’ll take this to your maker?”

The youngster pressed himself flat, “We don’t touch the humans.” he said, finally, as he deflated in defeat.

“That’s right.” Cal growled, “So, I suggest you find a new bar to fuck about in.”

As he finished the sentence, he threw the youngster towards the door, sending him sprawling against the wall with a slam that shook the bar. The male rushed to his feet before escaping out of the entrance, his hair dishevelled and flying around his head. You closed your mouth as Flix placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Thanks, boss.” Flix uttered as he looked over your hand, “You’re gonna have some mean bruises, newbie.” he commented as he turned your hand palm up.

You couldn’t really focus on Flix as you looked Cal in the eyes. His face morphed back to a human looking guise behind a thin curtain of his hair. He moved his black curls back over his shoulder and nodded at you.

“Thank you.” You flinched as Flix prodded at your fingers.

“You’re welcome.” Cal whispered before he turned and walked away, fiddling with his jacket where it was torn by the youngster’s claws.

“Hey!” You pushed Flix’s fretting hands away and ducked through the bar door, rushing to catch up with Cal. He turned just outside the door to the upstairs flat and looked at you as he reached for a piece of spearmint gum, popping the rectangle piece into his mouth as you floundered, “Can…Can I take you out somewhere? To pay you back for everything you’ve done?”

Cal stopped chewing, his jaw going stiff before he reached for the empty cigarette packet in his jeans pocket and cursed again. He ducked his head, appearing small despite his towering height, standing at well over six feet tall.

“It won’t be, uh, a date or anything, unless you know, you want that. I just want to say thank you, I guess.” You babbled until he reached out his hand.

“Let me see your hand.”

It wasn’t a question; it was a demand.

You held up your bruised hand, “Its nothing.” You deflated, thinking you had been rejected.

Cal looked at your hand for a moment before letting you cradle it again, “Meet me outside. Friday lunchtime. There’s an old diner a few blocks away.” He grumbled quietly.

You smiled and nodded, “Sure. Dinners on me!” You gushed before catching yourself, “Well, not me. I don’t think I have very good blood and…”

Cal let out a low, deep chuckle, before he pushed his sunglasses back up into his hair. His breath smelled like mint as he took your hand and kissed the sore fingers, “See you then.” he rumbled before he unlocked the door and disappeared up the stairs.

Deciding what to wear seemed like the end of the world until your finally settled on something not too flashy, but a little dressy. You fiddled with the bottom of your shirt as you waited close to the entrance to The Black Dahlia. It was a little past midday and you wondered if you had come a little too early. Your fears were shot when the door opened, and Cal stepped out into the sunlight. He was in his sunglasses, the collar of his duster turned up to hide his cheeks with a black, red trimmed fedora on his head to shield his face from the sun.

“Hey, sorry if I’m a little early.” You smiled as you reached him.

Cal shrugged his shoulders, “Its not a problem. I don’t tend to sleep much… And I heard you arrive.” he tapped his ear underneath his collar, “A vampire thing.”

“Oh…You know I never thought of that.” You confessed before pointing to his hat, “You’re not going to uh, burst into flames, are you?”

Cal’s lips twisted up in a half smile, “No. I’m a little sensitive to sun, but I’m old enough that it isn’t lethal anymore. I wouldn’t have said daytime if I knew I would burst into flames.” he nodded his head, “Come on. The diner isn’t far.”

You followed him happily, not straying too far from his side as you made a bit of idle conversation to fill the silence.

The diner was three blocks away. Cal opened the door and let you inside first. It was a cosy place, with wooden interiors and metal accents. It was quiet, with no customers milling around just yet, except for a dwarf, who was asleep in one of the booths furthest away from the door. A female elf looked up from her notebook and smiled brightly as Cal entered behind you.

“Clarence!” she tittered, “By the sun! It’s been so long since we’ve seen you! You know we only live four streets away!” she exclaimed before smacking his shoulder with her towel.

“Sorry, Graeliel.” Cal muttered, “Its…”

“Don’t. I know, sweetheart. I know.” Graeliel reached up and took hold of his cheeks between her palms. She patted his face before tossing her brown braids over her shoulders and dashing behind the counter, “Pam! Pamela!” she screeched, “Clarence is here!”

An older orc woman appeared from the kitchen, her chef’s apron splattered with sauce and her mohawk flattened with the heat of the kitchen, “Boy you best hope I don’t get hold of you!” she shouted as she crossed her arms over her chest, “Three years, and not a word! Not a word!”

Cal shrivelled in on himself a little, “I’m sorry, Pam, Graeliel. I know I should have called or something…”

Pam held up her hand, “Don’t give me that.” she looked down at him and scrubbed at her silver-streaked hair, pulling it back before sighing, “I know, sweetheart. We’ve been worried, is all.”

“Pamela has been beside herself.” Graeliel added before she patted her wife’s shoulder, “But it’s all right. You’re here now…and with company?” She added as she peered around Cal, spotting you stood by the door.

Awkwardly, you gave them both a wave and stepped forwards.

“Ah,” Cal introduced you before adding, “We’re here for lunch if you have the space?”

“Oh but of course!” Graeliel grinned, exposing her slightly sharp, elven teeth, “I didn’t think you would ever find a partner, Cal!”

“You owe me thirty, Graeliel.” Pamela chuckled as she walked back towards the kitchen, “And no, I won’t accept back massages this time!” she shouted out of the door before disappearing again.

Graeliel took your arms and rolled her eyes at her wife before she led you both over to a booth in the other corner of the restaurant. She grabbed a napkin holder and two sets of cutleries for you both and laid them on the table carefully before she laid two laminated menus down too.

“I’ll go and get you some drinks to let you decide what to have. How does two lemonades sound?” Graeliel smiled as she tucked her notebook in the front pocket of her apron.

“That sounds great.” You answered before you looked to Cal, “Wait. Is that okay?”

The vampire nodded his head, “Its fine. I can still have human food and drink, in moderation. It holds no nutritional value, and a lot makes me feel sick, but its nice sometimes.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that. I don’t think I’ve ever asked a vampire before though.” You smiled. Graeliel nodded and headed off to go and grab you both a drink, leaving you both with the menu and silence, which was occasionally broken by the snoring dwarf at the other side of the diner.

“What are you going to get?” You asked Cal as you flopped the menu back on the table, “Are the club sandwiches any good?”

Cal shifted and pulled his coat off before reaching up to the top of the window and pulling down a window shade, which kept the sun off him. When he was comfortable, he carefully pulled his glasses and hat off, revealing his steel-coloured eyes. He was dressed in a shirt and a dark pair of jeans with his rosary sat on top of his chest. His black hair fell down his back and he reached to tie it back quickly before he picked up the menu and crossed a leg over his knee, resting the ankle on his knee.

“The steak is actually decent.” he commented, “But if you want something light the chicken Caesar wrap is great. They source meat from an organic place…I think. It’s been a while since I was last here.”

“The falafel sounds better.” You grinned, having decided on your meal, “What about you?”

Cal peaked at you over the top of his menu, “The usual.” He shrugged his shoulders and leaned back, leaving the menu on top of your own.

“What’s your usual then?” You prodded his hand on the table.

“A pint of blood and a rare steak.” Cal muttered, looking up at you to check for your reaction.

You were shocked for a moment, before you started laughing, creasing yourself against the table as you saw his eyes widen and his hands fidget with the edge of the table.

“Sorry.” You wheezed, “I just didn’t think you’d say it like that.”

A ghost of a smile turned his lips up at the corners, “People don’t like vampires. I wanted to see what you thought but,” he gestured to your wheezing, “it obviously doesn’t phase you.”

Once you finally caught your breath you looked him in the eye, “No, it doesn’t bother me. You’re just different to me, and that’s not a big deal. I’ve seen some scary vampires, and you’re not one of them.”

“Like the one that tried to snack on you?” Cal added scathingly.

“Yeah. He was…Well if you hadn’t shown up, I might not have gotten out of that one.” You smiled, “So, thank you, again.”

“Stop thanking me.” Cal sighed, “I didn’t do anything special.”

“But to me, you did! So, hush, and let me buy you lunch!” You jeered at him, pointing a fork at his face like a dangerous weapon. Cal smiled again and let it drop as Graeliel came back with your lemonade.

“Alrighty then.” she pulled out her notepad out and poised her pen for your orders, “What will you lovebirds be having?”

“Graeliel, we’re just here for lunch.” Cal droned as he rubbed at his temples and reached back to pull the other blind down.

“Hush. I know a date when I see one!” Graeliel tapped the top of his head with her pen, “What do you want sweetie?” she asked. Cal opened his mouth again, but she silenced him with a scathing look, like an insistent mother.

“I’ll have the falafel wrap, please.” You ordered and she nodded before looking at Cal.

“The usual, please.” Cal grumbled before taking hold of his icy glass of lemonade and taking a sip. He didn’t make a face at the sourness but turned to look out of the window, before realising he had the blind down, and staring down at his drink, stirring the straw around idly. Graeliel left you both alone to go and give your orders to Pamela. Cal watched her leave before looking back at you with his ghostly smile again.

“I’m sure you have lots of questions.” he stated before he took another sip of lemonade, “I know I would if I was in your situation.”

You nodded and played with your own straw, “Lots of questions. I saw your face morph into something like I’ve never seen before. You looked like…well, something out of a kids story book.” You took a sip of your drink from your lemonade.

Cal turned his head, avoiding your gaze as a cringe took over his features, “I figured that would be the first thing you asked me about.” he avoided your eyes as he seemed to think about what to say next, “I’m a vampire, yes, but I’m of an old bloodline. Night Terrors. That’s what we were called by the rest of our own race. I suppose we are like bats. Up turned noses, wings and the ability to hang onto any surface.” He droned quietly as the ice in his drink clinked, “Terachi. That’s what we are called now.”

You listened quietly before interjecting gently, “So why don’t you always look like that?”

“Glamouring. Intense glamouring.” Cal mumbled, “Enough that even Flix’s spell doesn’t enable you to see my real face.”

The words sat heavy in your stomach. Cal refused to look at you for a while, his eyes trained on his lemonade.

“I can hear your brain churning. Its an ugly face. Its something humans would run. I’ve hidden my face behind my human appearance from the day I was turned.” he whispered as he pushed his hair over his shoulder again.

Gently, you took his hand from around the glass, stroking his fingers before you squeezed them and let him have his hand back, “How long have you been in music?” You asked, eager to stop Cal from scowling. He looked at the window again before meeting your eyes again and smiling awkwardly, the corners of his lips twitching.

“I’ve played the violin since I was around eight years old.” Cal turned his straw in his drink, “I learned to play the piano, but also the organ.” He saw your look, “My family was very religious. My mother was a faithful catholic. She married and dragged my father into it. I’ve said my hail Mary’s since I could speak.”

“Is that why you still wear your rosary?” You asked, pointing at the black beads hung around his neck and the cross which rested over his chest. His shirt hid the tattoo he had over his pectorals from view.

Cal picked at the cross and regarded the wooden jewellery for a moment before he dropped it back against his chest, “My relationship with the lord is a little complicated.”

“Isn’t everyone’s?” You joked as he shifted in his seat, “I think its nice you still believe. How long have you been, well, like this?” You trailed off at his grimace.

“A vampire?” he asked, “Since I was twenty-six.” He gestured to himself, “It was a service, in 1784. My maker was amazed by my skill with instruments, and I sang for him after. I’ve been like this ever since.” Cal gave himself a disgusted once over, before he looked back down at the wooden table, his nails scratching at the waxy surface, gouging at a name someone had already cut into the top.

“Did you leave anyone behind?” You asked.

“A fiancé. I don’t think I ever loved her like she deserved.” Cal said, “I disappeared after the service. My maker held me like a child as I changed and stopped breathing. I’ve not seen him since...” he trailed off, “I’ve not seen him since I joined Black Blood. That was over twenty-five years ago now.”

“Wow. That’s a long time. Did you fall out over it all?” You asked.

Cal shrugged his shoulders in response, “He didn’t want me out of his clutches I suppose. Either way, its history.” he dismissed any further questions with a wave of his hand.

As though she had seen the tense situation, Graeliel came tootling over with your meals. The elf laid the two plates down in front of each of you and smiled warmly as she pointed to the lemonade.

“Is the lemonade sweet enough? I let Pam make it this time, and she’s a bit sour, so she skimps on the sugar.” she teased as she leaned back and tucked her towel against her hip.

“Its perfect.” You assured her as you took another drink of it, “Its just sweet enough. Anymore and I think my teeth would rot.” You joked.

She nodded and quickly scuttled to a microwave as it pinged. You watched curiously as Graeliel snipped open a back of blood and poured the contents into a blacked-out pint glass. She returned with the glass and placed it in front of Cal.

“Make sure you don’t eat too much this time, hm?” She patted his hand before she smiled at you brightly and left to go and dispose of some rubbish.

You looked at the black glass on the table and wondered just if Cal was going to drink it in front of you or not. He met your gaze and shifted back before he took hold of the glass.

“You don’t have to look, if it makes you uncomfortable.” he reasoned, quietly, holding your gaze for a moment before he peered at the deep red contents.

“No.” You swallowed, “Its fine. Go ahead.” You smiled and reached for your cutlery as he nodded and tipped his head back a little. He pressed the glass to his mouth and quickly downed the blood, his throat working as he guzzled at it like a hungry animal. Cal grumbled softly as he finished and licked at the red blood clinging to his top lip before pressing his finger to it and licking that too. He closed his eyes and swallowed the last of it, his nose curled, before he calmed himself down, and looked back at you. His eyes were wide, as though he had thoroughly enjoyed himself, and you smiled at him.

Cal’s lips curled a little at one corner before he stood to give the glass back to Graeliel. You appreciated the iron smelling glass being moved and carefully started picking at your salad. He returned and you picked up your wrap.

“Well, lets see if you recommended me something decent!” You took a bite and Cal chuckled quietly as your eyes widened at the taste, “Is this home made or something? The sauce is so good.” You said around your mouthful.

Cal nodded with a smile, “They make everything here in house.” he picked up his steak knife and sliced into the very rare steak before feeding himself a small piece, “Still tastes as good as ever.” He leaned to the kitchen and chuckled again.

“Too right it does!” Pamela hollered from the kitchen. You both laughed at her before digging back into your food.

“Are you two finished?” Graeliel asked as you leaned back and grumbled about being too full. Cal chuckled again as he pushed his sunglasses into his hair, and you nodded with a content sigh.

“Pamela’s cooking has that effect.” Cal added quietly as you patted your stomach and laughed.

Graeliel laughed as well, “I’ll get you both the bill.” she walked happily to the kitchen to deliver your dishes and glasses before going to the cash register and bringing you the total on her notepad, scribbled underneath your orders.

You took the piece of paper, but Cal had already pulled out the cash, placing it on the table for Graeliel before he grabbed his hat and tucked his hair out of the way. He noticed you gawking and tilted his head, “Are you okay with me paying?” he asked curiously.

You nodded before huffing, “Yeah, but next time I get the food.”

Cal paused as he shrugged one arm of his coat on, “Next time?” he asked quietly.

“If you want a next time?” You asked with an embarrassed smile.

He nodded, completely silent as he turned his face away from you. He was incapable of blushing much more than a faint pink tone after a meal, but you caught the slight pink colour to the apples of his cheeks before he flicked his collar up.

You followed suit and thanked Graeliel and Pamela as Cal rushed for the door, his long, graceful strides carrying him faster than you could ever hope to be.

Graeliel reached to give you a gentle hug which smelled of jasmine, “Look after him for us, hm? He’s such a sweet boy, just a little wounded.”

“I’ll try.” You felt hot and embarrassed, and your cheeks burned as you looked at Pamela’s smirk. You said your goodbyes and rushed after Cal. He held you open the door and silently offered you his arm. You took the arm and linked your own through it. Cal looked at you through the side of his black sunglasses before he smiled a little wider, revealing his sharp, fang like teeth. It was the only part he consistently couldn’t glamour, you had come to realise. You returned his smile and Cal looked down at you. Your eyes followed a piece of hair as it escaped his hair tie and slipped out over his shoulder.

“I’ll walk you home, if you want?” he asked with a small shake to his voice.

You realised then, that you were smitten with him, and smiled brightly, “Sure. Its not too far. I live near the rose garden park.” Cal nodded and ran his cold fingers over your hand before he slipped your hand down and into his own.

You reached your small flat just as the roads started to get busy with traffic from people going home from work. You reached into your small bag as you neared the door, and quickly rummaged around for your keys. They jingled in your hand as Cal slipped his hand from yours and let you step up to the door alone.

“Thank you.” He uttered, “For taking a chance with me. No one has…been so kind to me in a while. Certainly not someone as gorgeous as you.” Cal whispered the words, as though you weren’t supposed to hear them. He turned his face away from you, his eyes still hidden behind his glasses. The sun was lower in the sky and the beginnings of the sunset were starting, casting an orange glow over his pale skin and the pieces of his black curls which had escaped his ponytail.

“I didn’t take a chance.” You said as you stepped back down in front of him, “I think you’re…You’re much more than just a monstrous vampire. You’re kind, sweet and considerate and…”

“Handsome?” He asked with a quirk to his lips before he licked them and reached out to take your hand again, running his fingers against your own as he digested your words.

“You make me feel…You make me feel grounded. Whole. Like I’m not…” Cal huffed at himself, “Like I’m not some fucking killer freak. I just… I feel like you understand, and I find myself thinking of you, often. I…”

Gently, you reached up and pressed a warm finger to his lips, quietening his rambling, “I like you too, Cal. I think you’re…”

Cal silenced you as he pushed his sunglasses up into his hair again, revealing his steel-coloured eyes. He stared at you with such intensity, and you were drawn to the soft curve of his lips all too easily. He smelt like peppermint again, but you forgot that as he pressed his lips to yours. They were soft but icy cold. The temperature made you jump, but you quickly pressed to him. Cal grumbled something before you were backed against the door, his fangs grazing your bottom lip as his cold tongue brushed against your lips. You opened your mouth and moaned quietly as he kissed you deeply, his fangs grazing your lips again. He drew away, as though shot, and you smiled at the blackness to his eyes and the grey sheen to his skin. His nose curled and you touched the pointed tip of his upturned nose before pushing your hands over his shoulders and feelings the musclar tops of his wings. They flexed beneath his coat, the clawed tips scrapping against the concrete before he dived in to nip your lips again.

“I adore you.” He purred as you felt the tips of his ears and fumbled for the handle. The door opened with a soft click and you pulled on his hands. He caught himself at the door, letting you hold his hands before he was drawn into you and found your lips again, “You complete me.” He moaned against your cheek before you closed the door.

#vampire x reader #male vampire x reader #gender neutral reader #vampire x gender neutral reader #vampire boyfriend #monster boyfriend #monster bf #monster reader insert #reader insert #my writing #original writing #original works #clarence marston #clarence marston x reader #vampire male x reader #monster boy #monster x reader #monster bf x reader

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draconic-ichor · 3 years ago

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In the Steel Steeds Heart

Chapter 14: Dinner as a Family: Part 2

Warnings: blood, strong language, sexual themes, nipple play, penetrative sex

Summary: Miranda finally makes it known why Juniper’s place at dinner was important

Feedback appreciated. 18+

When the main course was served the maids brought out plates with cuts of red meat and delicate steamed vegetables.

Juniper cut into the meat, seeing blood ooze under her knife. Calling it rare was reaching.

In the past meat like this would have turned poor Juniper’s stomach. But now, with a monster waiting in her belly, the smell mixed with the thick wine made her mouth water.

She took a large bite, eagerly starting to cut a second as she chewed.

Her enthusiasm took the rest of the table off guard. Heisenberg’s jaw tightened worriedly.

“Enjoy it, Dear?” Alicina smiled smugly.

Juniper nodded, her pupils dilated ever so slightly.

The meal went by with little talk, the table feeling tight. Heisenberg did little more than pick at his food, eating around the more well-done edges of the meat and filling up on bread.

Juniper felt a type of hunger she couldn’t describe, finishing her plate and a second glass of wine.

She glanced around the table: Angie was speaking to Donna, both nodding and deep in the conversation. Moraue was having a time of trying to cut his meat, resorting to just shoving the whole piece into his widened mouth. Lady Dimitrescu was trying to be delicate with her silverware, something her large hands made very difficult. And lastly, Miranda took small bites, eyes always moving.

Juniper’s face felt hot, licking her teeth. She stood from the table, stiffening a bit when she felt multiple eyes follow her. Heisenberg looked at her questioningly.

“Just…need to visit the bathroom.” She mumbled awkwardly.

Lady Dimitrescu raised her head, snapping her finger once. A maid quickly came into the hall.

“Show dear Juniper to the guest bath.” She instructed.

The maid bowed, turning to Juniper, “This way m’lady.”

Excusing herself, Juniper quickly followed the girl.

Heisenberg frowned down at his plate, pushing it away slightly.

“You seem very taken with her.” Miranda observed, peering over the top of her wine glass.

When Heisenberg didn’t respond she continued, “It’s a good thing, you’ve never gotten along well with your other siblings.”

Her words turned his stomach. “Juniper isn’t a Lord.” He reminded her, keeping his voice even.

“Ah, but that is one of the reasons I asked you here.” She smiled.

He looked at her curiously, worry rimming his eyes.

“I think our little Juniper could grow into Lordship, in time.” Mother Miranda nodded, taking a long sip from her glass, “She just needs to nurture her abilities.”

She wanted Juniper to become a lord?

Heisenberg frowned, “And what do you have in mind?”

“Always impatient.” Her eyes narrowed, “I want you to take her on the hunt.”

“Why?” He spoke too quickly, earning him a scolding look.

“Now, Heisenberg, you can’t expect to keep her holed up in that dump of a factory forever now, can you?” Lady Dimitrescu commented.

Before he could bark back Miranda confirmed, “I think her unique abilities will be suited perfectly for the task.”

Heisenberg remembered her mutated form and it’s resemblance to the varcolacs, wondering how much about Juniper’s powers she knew about.

“She isn’t ready.�� He tried to argue.

“This isn’t up for debate.” Miranda’s voice commanding, “Think of it as a test, to really see her powers.”

Heisenberg nodded, worry curdling his gut.

Juniper washed her hands in the large marble sink. Still feeling flushed, she splashed cold water onto her face. She looked up, eyes catching her own gaze in the gilded mirror.

Her breath stuck fast in her throat, heartbeat quickening.

Her reflection looked wrong, the longer she looked the more it twisted before her: her eyes were dark and blown out, almost wild, her jaw was extended, fangs peeking out.

She took a shaking breath seeing more eyes open along her forehead.

Juniper reached up a shaking hand, feeling along her face, smooth skin greeted her fingertips. She blinked, the image gone.

She looked at herself again, flushed and fearful, but it was her.

She touched the surface, sucking in a shaking breath.

What was hidden just beneath her skin?

Juniper returned to the table, looking slightly pale.

“You alright?” Heisenberg asked, concern rimming his eyes.

“I’m fine.” She lied, taking her seat. He didn’t look convinced but relented for the time being.

For dessert they were all served their own savarină cake. It was small and golden colored, soaked in rum, filled with sweet cream and topped with blueberry jelly.

Juniper looked up to see Angie giving little grabby hands to her keeper. Donna cut her cake in half, offering one side to Angie. Juniper couldn’t help her lips twitch, as Angie squealed with glee.

Ever a fan of sweets, and seeing this as the most edible thing they were served other than the bread, Heisenberg ate his in a few swift bites.

He glanced over to find Juniper doing little more than pick at the cake.

“You sure you’re ok, Doll?” He pressed in a little more than a whisper.

“I…may have drank too much wine.”

“Hmm.”

“Would you like my dessert? I don’t think I can manage it.”

He perked up almost excitedly. They exchanged plates: Juniper taking his clean one and him her serving. The second cake didn’t fare much better, or longer for that matter.

Once dessert was finished and the maids cleared away the plates, Miranda stood.

“Thank you again, all my dear children.” She nodded to them each, “I trust everyone will play their part during the Hunt?”

The table murmured a yes, Heisenberg unable to meet her eyes.

“Good, then I will take my leave.” She spoke swiftly. Before she could make it to the door Lady Dimitrescu stood to follow, wanting to show Miranda a few last minute things.

“Well…not eat and run.” Heisenberg stretched before standing, “But I hate this fucking castle.”

He leaned against his hammer as Juniper said her goodbyes.

Donna gave her a sweet little wave, Angie practically screamed a heartfelt goodbye, and Moraue thanked her again for her kindness.

Finding their way back to the entryway, Juniper made a sound of realization.

“Oh! My coat!” She suddenly looked worried.

“Where’d you leave it, Buttercup?” Heisenberg sat his hammer down as he spoke.

Thinking for a moment she snapped her finger, “It’s in the changing room, with my old dress.”

“Let’s go get it.” Heisenberg started to stride away, picking his hammer up. Juniper rushed to keep up.

They retraced their steps, finding the changing room rather quickly. Juniper went in, relieved to find her clothing still folded just where she’d left it. Turning around, she almost jumped,e seeing Heisenberg standing behind her.

“You’re not supposed to be in here.” Juniper hissed.

“I don’t give a fuck.” He chuckled looking into a wardrobe, “You think the mega bitch keeps her fancy ass hats in here?”

Juniper pulled on his arm, “Lets go.”

“Ah!” Heisenberg straightened, holding a black lace veil, “Not a hat but one of the girls frilly shit.”

He draped the fabric over his hat, pulling it down around his head, like a babushka.

“Look good Doll?” His lips curled in a shit eating grin.

“Heis…” Juniper tried to stifle a giggle to not encourage him.

“What else do you think is in here?” He rummaged in the wardrobe again, “Think there's a sexy little dress for me?”

“Sexy?” Juniper smirked.

He looked back at her, “Hell yea. That dress makes me want to take you right here.”

Juniper flushed.

Seeing her reaction he pulled the veil away, tossing it to the floor and pulling Juniper to his chest. Looking down through her chest window he licked his dry lips.

“How about we go find an empty room and get you out of that little number for a while, hm?”

The thought of Heisenberg taking her within the home of his least favorite person made a small shiver of excitement run down her spine.

“Only if we’re careful…and fast.” She gulped.

Smiling roguishly, “Well be gone before anyone notices.”

After opening several doors and racing quietly down the halls, they finally discovered a free bedroom. It was opulent, as were most rooms in the castle, but had the stale air of dust. It felt safe and far enough away from the night's festivities to serve them well.

Heisenberg walked in whistling, “Damn, swanky!”

Juniper went in more timidly, closing and locking the door. Heisenberg turned and looked her over. “Aw, you look so shy, kitten.” He smirked.

She shot him a look.

“I’m just worried.”

“Why?”

“The…sisters.”

“You worried about the bugs?” He smirked, looking towards the large windows. His eyes narrowed for a moment as the handle rattled open, the window burst open with an icy breeze.

“There,” he soothed, “No bugs will bother us now.”

He slipped his hand into the chest window of her dress, fondling her breasts. Juniper mewled, feeling him lightly tug at her piercings.

“Careful” her words were a whisper.

Heisenberg kissed down her neck, finding her sweet spot and biting down. She gasped, feeling warmth bloom between her legs.

He lathed his tongue over the mark, groaning out slightly. She felt him take a fistful of the dress, pulling out of his grip. He gave her a warning look, pale eyes narrow.

“Don’t rip this dress!” She hissed. He had nearly closed the distance to do just that, but halted when he saw her gather up the material and pull it over her head.

Her skin prickled in the cold air, she tossed the clothing away, falling back against the fancy bed in only her boots.

“You didn’t wear any panties?” Heisenberg’s face split wolfishly, more blood rushing to his cock.

“I knew you couldn’t be a good boy all night.” She rubbed her thighs together, “Now get over here before we get caught.”

Ever wanting to please her, he instantly complied, unzipping his pants and letting his belt fall free as he closed the distance.

His skin was hot and welcoming as he pressed down onto her, crashing his lips into her own.

Juniper’s hand drifted to his chest. His piercing had long since fully healed, not needing as much time as normal humans.

She purred mischievously as she tugged on his nipple, rolling the metal between her fingers.

He hissed out, pulling away to darkly chuckle, “Oh honey, now is not the time.”

She gave it another tug, “What do you always say to me?” She tried to mimic his voice the best she could, it was a poor imitation still, “Sing for me!”

He pulled away with a huff. Before she could react he flipped her over, pushing her face into the bed. Juniper mewled, raising her hips.

Heisenberg loved to see her in just her work boots and nothing more.

He eagerly pushed into her, earning a moan to slip past her pretty lips. She was already wet and dripping around his cock. He bent over her, stomach pressed into her back, hot scar flush against his chest.

He felt her trapped legs tremble as he fucked her open on the expensive furniture. He reached a hand around her, rubbing circles into her clit as he kept a face pace. Seeing her in that revealing dress and dealing with his shitty ‘family’ had him on edge, and he was ready to blow off some steam.

It didn’t take her long to become a whimpering mess under him. He felt her cunt clench, liquid squirting out around his cock. Juniper cried out, clawing at the sheets.

Heisenberg pumped into her roughly, loving the mess they were making. He brought his hands to her hips, forcing her back into him.

He pulled out, pumping his fist down his sensitive cock, turning enough to splatter his load over the expensive bed sheets.

“Oops.” He smirked, a cocky look over his face.

“Karl?!” Juniper’s cheeks reddened, “We’ll get in trouble.”

“We better get going then.” Heisenberg chuckled, pulling his pants back on.

Juniper struggled to redress quickly, worry thick on her face. She felt like a guilty teenager.

After she had her coat back on and her hair smoothed down she looked up to Heisenberg.

He was sitting on the window sill, one leg already hiked over to the outside.

“What are you doing??” Juniper hissed.

“Uh…?” he looked down at himself showily, “I’m going out the window, Doll.”

“Yea, why?”

“I’m not going out the front fucking door.” He smiled toothily, “Gotta keep our little lay a secret right? Keep them guessing.”

“Heisenberg.” She folded her arms, fixing him with a hard gaze, “You and Moreau are the only two in this whole castle with a penis. I think they’ll know who came all over their guest room.”

“Aw, give the fish freak a break.” Heisenberg put his other leg out the window, “The maids are probably cock hungry enough to give him a ride.”

“Karl!” Juniper scolded, padding up to the window.

She looked down, realizing they were on the second story. She gulped.

Seeing her fear Heisenberg soothed, “Don’t worry, buttercup.” He offered her his hammer, “Just hang on and I’ll set you down all nice and easy.”

She bit her lip, reaching out a trembling hand, fingers wrapping around the cold metal.

“Hold tight.” He warned. She complied, swinging her legs over to the outside. The wind bit her skin, the hammer in her hands floating before her. It felt unmoving in her grasp, steady and unwavering. She tried to brace herself.

She closed her eyes, nodding and pushing away from the sill.

“Good girl.” Heisenberg smiled, her trust in him making his heart swell.

He concentrated on lowering her as easily and carefully as he could. She kept her eyes shut tight, arms beginning to ache from supporting her weight.

Sooner than she expected her boots met the frozen earth, sending a surprising jolt though her.

Juniper let go, the hammer staying in place for a moment before snapping back into Heisenberg’s hand. He came down next, much quicker and without the caution he used for her.

As soon as his boots met the ground, he hooked his arm around Juniper’s.

His face was alight with glee as he started off into the night.

“Come on!” He laughed, “Let’s get out of here.”

She kept pace with him, the adrenaline and his mirth causing her to join in with the laughter.

#resident evil village #karl heisenberg #heisenberg x oc #re8 oc #heisenberg #in the steel steeds heart #heisenberg smut #resident evil #Heisenberg fic

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benjen-mormont · 2 months ago

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Benjen knew better than most that awareness was the price of survival. In a city like King’s Landing, one misstep, one lapse, could mean winding up dead in a back alley or facedown in the canal. He watched Robin closely, moonlight casting shadows on the sharp line of his cheekbone, the soft curve of his full lips. Their gazes locked—Benjen’s piercing blue meeting Robin’s hazel in a silent clash of wills, a battle fought without a single word. The world around them faded, leaving only this moment, taut and suspended between them. Benjen had to remind himself of the stakes; a fight here would be bad for Cregan, for the Bear Islands, for everything he represented on this trip.

But Benjen had always understood the thrill of danger—the way a shark circles, drawn by the scent of blood.

“You look remarkable,” he said, casual as a shrug, even as his gaze lingered. His sister had always spoken about people who were worth painting, capturing in detail. The man before him was just that—paint-worthy. “Can’t a man appreciate beauty when he sees it, darling?”

“You… are you being serious right now?” Robin asked, eyebrows raised in disbelief. This man was a fool—a drunk, pompous fool. “Do you even know who I am? You haven’t even bothered to answer who you are!”

Robin’s indignation barely had time to gather steam before Benjen laughed, flashing a smile adorned with gleaming gold jewelry. Golden fangs for a wolfish grin—fitting.

“Ah, forgive me, love,” Benjen called over a waitress, who glided to his side with a smile too wide, her dress dipped too low. “Would you mind asking around who this gentleman is? He seems to have lost track of himself, and it’s far too late to leave wayward souls unaccounted for in a neighborhood like this.”

“Oh, Ben, he’s—“ the waitress glanced between the two, her eyes darting in alarm as though she expected Benjen to be beheaded on the spot.

Ben, Robin noted, pinning a name to this irritating face he couldn’t quite swing a fist at. Yet.

“Don’t fret, love, I think I know,” Benjen murmured, brushing a soothing caress over her knuckles, as if dismissing her concern with a soft, knowing touch. A moment later, he turned the same gesture toward Robin, taking his hand with an unsettling gentleness.

“What the hell are you—”

“Shh, can’t you see I’m reading?” Benjen raised Robin’s hand, letting his fingers trace slow, knowing lines along the palm. “You’ll marry someone sweet—that’s good, very good… and you’ll die old, a peaceful death, one most men would envy.”

Against his better judgment, Robin felt his curiosity snagged—and his body betrayed him quicker than his mouth as he sat, almost like an obedient dog drawn to a strange command.

“What else?”

“A steady purpose. You’ll go far, but not famously so.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Only if you want it to be, sweetheart.”

“You’re a damned nuisance.”

Benjen smirked. “But am I worth it?”

Robin laughed, a grudging amusement finding him in spite of himself. “What else can your magic say?”

“Oh, it’s not mine,” Benjen clicked his tongue, still toying with Robin’s fingers like an intricate puzzle. “A wise lady taught me to read what’s already written. But I don’t need the magic. I can see enough: you’re of noble birth. Soft hands, just two callouses from that sword on your hip.”

“And how would you know that?” Robin asked, intrigued in spite of himself. Damn those gold-plated teeth.

“I told you, sweetheart,” Benjen traced a single line along Robin’s knuckles before releasing his hand with a finality. “I’m a reader.”

Then, like a snake shedding its skin, Benjen rose, somehow taller than Robin expected. “I’ll see you at the wedding celebrations, my lord of gods-know-where.”

Robin wasn’t sure which unsettled him more—the fortune-telling, the flirting, or the kiss Benjen blew his way before disappearing into the crowd. Any one of them was enough to make him forget Benjen had left his drinks on Robin’s tab.

Bloody charmer.

confrontation brewing

( a part of @asongofgoldenfireandblackblood )

starter with @benjen-mormont

After the wedding of Prince Jacaerys and Princess Baela, Robin finally felt he could relax. While he never truly felt relaxed in his life, endlessly worrying over duties he himself had to manage and the problems of others, sometimes he felt a night out alone helped him to feel at peace. While preferring to be in the company of others, sometimes a lonesome journey could set his mind straight.

So this night, he chose to travel to the same tavern he had taken his best friend Jacaerys to for his bachelor party, only days ago that was. It was a nice place, full of people he knew and was friendly with, but not overly close with to where they would not bother him tonight.

He settled in his seat, a table by himself and his glass filled in front of him. His drink was a sort of mead, something the lady serving him knew he liked but he had never quite asked what it exactly was. He had gotten through one serving when he felt as if he was being watched, making him tense once again.

His brown eyes wandered around the tavern, anxiously looking at those who he knew. None of the others seemed to be looking at him, and he would have passed off this feeling as irrational if it were not for the man his eyes settled upon. Finally placing the person who seemingly could not keep their eyes off of Robin, it was a man who Robin somehow recognized, but could not place...

He stood up abruptly, leaving his table and glass behind, long forgotten. Moving closer to the mysterious man, his memories finally gave him an answer of where he knew this other. At Jacaerys bachelor party... he stared at me the whole time as well!

While Robin was open to making friends with anyone, he would not tolerate rudeness. He had put the staring aside the other day as to not ruin his friends party, but this night he would not. Walking faster now, he strode towards the man's table, ready for answers.

"There seems to be a problem between the two of us that I have not figured out yet. Care to share it? Or will you continue to stare me down, hoping your eyes will do damage to me? Who are you?" He could not help himself as the questions poured out, not giving the other a chance to answer until he had asked all of them. Examining the other all while his words tumbled out, he noticed that the man looked familiar in a way that was more than just some random person at a tavern. As if he was someone of a great house... but Robin ignored that feeling for now, waiting for answers to his inquiries.

#robin grafton #benjen mormont #a song of golden fire and black blood #roleplay blog #a song of ice and fire #house mormont #house of the dragon #grafton #game of thrones #asoiaf #hotd #fanfic #writers on tumblr #writing

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enha-woodzies · 4 years ago

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➸ CHAPTER 6 | " AT LONG LAST PT. 1 "

starring: enhypen ft. i-land daniel

pairing: jungwon x fem!reader x sunghoon

genres: royal au, romance, angst, slowburn, 18th century setting

word count: 2.5k

taglist: @serendipitysung (betareader) @angeljungwon @en-sun @affectionaterainoflove @renkiv @softforjungwoo @jislix @fluffi @gyeraniee @stxrryemxlys

[ PREV. CHAPTER ] | [ M. LIST ] | [ NEXT CHAPTER ]

To be promenaded in front of the entire ton is one of every lady’s desires. From the piercing stares of the envious, to the love-struck looks of those smitten by the pair, the two most-loved couple of this season gracefully saunters from the cemented pathway and down to the grassy lawn, ever so politely greeting Northumberland with their warmest and charming presence.

The young marquess joins the young miss’ family under the canopy near the lake. With a hand draping over Sunghoon’s arm, Lord Niki mutters swears to the gods for lightning to strike upon the chap, as the gagging sight of his sister along with his most despised douche is gradually sucking the life out of him.

“Good morning!” Sunghoon greets the family and so did Lady Park. Jay gives away a polite nod followed by a toast of the teacup, whereas the almost always brooding Niki responds with an exaggerated rolling of his eyes.

“Your Grace. Always the charmer, aren't we?” Niki jeers to which Jay chokes on his warm, jasmine tea.

“The smoothest at being one, Riki.” The name rolls naturally off his tongue like a snake’s hiss that roused Niki’s ire. The boy could feel the crescendo of his spite, yet he eases it casually with a sly smirk.

“Smooth like a snake, perhaps? I anticipate those fangs in action.” Niki surprisingly snaps back. Jay clears his throat as he whispers to Niki in hopes to prevent him from further fumes, although he knows it would be of no use.

Sunghoon scoffs in return, “need I remind you that I shall deliver if provoked. However tempting that may be right now, I regret to inform you that I’m only here to promenade your sister and impress your dear mother.”

“I do hope she turns you down in the most painful way possible, Your Grace. I find my sister's taste in men quite genteel. Surely, you're aware of how opposed you are to that considering your…” Niki walks closer to the marquess to give an exclusive barb against his ear, “nasty record.” He brushes off imaginary dust off Sunghoon’s shoulder before bumping against it, “Good day to you two!”

“Oh dear, your brother is making me worried. Is he alright?” Lady Park whispers to Jay and the gent soothes their mother by softly massaging her hands, rubbing circles on the back of her palm, “he's just going through puberty, mother.”

“Is that so? I don't remember you having those episodes before. Furthermore, I apologize, Your Grace. Rest assured it won't happen again. I will definitely see to it.”

“No worries entirely. It's Niki after all, he may be a tough handful but as far as I recall he's completely-”

“Held back? Are those the words you were going for?” Jay cuts off.

“You're quite forgetting the fact that I’m right here.” Y/n attempts to intrude only to be silenced by her brother once again. With his head held high, Jay saunters up to Sunghoon, who is almost the same height as him. Locking eyes with the chap, he simpers, “come, Your Grace, I require a brief moment with you. Excuse us for a bit, sis.”

And with that, the men left the canopy, leaving Y/n and her mother utterly baffled with the uncalled tension.

The sound of paper being folded into an almost crumple echoes around the parlour, where the only sound that existed prior was deafening silence from the three men sitting across each other.

The culprit was none other than Yang Jungwon, who appears to be insulted from what he just read. Throwing off the now crumpled paper, Daniel perfectly catches it mid-air and opens it in haste.

Sunoo takes a gander at the Daily Tattle’s contents that Daniel incoherently mutters. Jungwon carefully studies his brother's reaction as Sunoo’s smile quickly transforms into shock, followed by the furrowing of his eyebrows with his mouth ajar; the final gesture, shooting a questioning look-- with his mouth still ajar-- at one of the scandal’s subjects.

“Surely, me asking two dances from you was already too cheap but, one, brother? Are you seriously being expensive right now?" The eldest exclaims.

"One that is very exclusive and controversial, might I add." Daniel chimes in. “What was all that about?"

"Remind me why I need to explain myself to the both of you?" Jungwon monotonously replies with his eyes fixed on the book he was now reading.

“Because we ought to know?”

“Well, if not to us, at least to Y/n?"

“Good god. Why is she in this conversation all of a sudden?"

"Because you pulled a dick move on her and we ought to know what's going on inside that brain of yours! You're so dense. Must we shake you up to shrug off those lil rust in there?"

"Oh, shut up, Daniel."

“That thing you did there? With her? Was very unlikely of you, Jungwon." Sunoo stands from his seat and transfers to Jungwon’s side on the couch.

"Well, what is like me then?"

"Spit it out or Daniel and I are gonna have to annoy you for the whole week.”

Jungwon slams the book on the couch and lets out an exasperated sigh before grunting out loud. "I just wanted to be alone with her, okay?! Are you pleased now?"

"Wait. You like her, don't you?”

“No, I don't! And I would never for heaven's sake."

“But you want to be alone with her. Isn't that what people do when they're in love?" Daniel rubs his chin in thought.

“Oh, god! Whatever lets the both of you sleep at night then. Assume the worst for all I care." The heated gent lifts himself up from the couch and strides towards the exit.

“Where are you going?”

“Away from the two of you. You won't stop annoying me either way, so I’m gonna get myself some cleaner air.” Jungwon slams the door shut behind him for a relieving walk to the woods.

“Now he's mad.”

“All we ever said was the truth, didn't we?”

“He is pretty rusty, alright.”

Y/n visits the Kielder Forest once again to run away from the stressful men of this morning’s promenade. She could've stayed in her fortress, but because of their foolish ruse, she had to show up. Now her brothers had to meddle with the already confusing mess.

Pages from the borrowed Austen book are now being flicked through again. She couldn't concentrate no matter how hard she tried, as Niki’s words still lingered in her mind.

“What nasty record could he have?” She mutters under her breath. Soon after, crunching of leaves startles her, and she realizes her whispers weren't the only noise around. Y/n dashes out of her sheer fort only to be welcomed by her most coveted man ever.

"What are you doing here?!" Jungwon asks in an angry kind of worry.

"What are you doing here?"

"Taking a walk, obviously?"

"Well, I’m reading. Obviously." Y/n sassily blinks at him, to which he returns a slightly puzzled look.

"You're much aware that you shouldn't be here, let alone unchaperoned, right?"

"Well, good thing you're here!"

Y/n crouches down to re enter her fort now that she has a guest. She softly taps the extra pillow, gesturing Jungwon to join her in a momentary bliss. One that is very rare when it comes to the both of them, and something that the young miss has found herself accustomed to now. When it comes to Jungwon, he'll just leave her begging for more.

Was it simply luck that had caused him to turn down this pathway? Whatever it was, he didn't feel the need to complain. As of now, all he ever wanted was a piece of mind from his brother's interrogations about him and Y/n. Not fully realizing that the very person who triggered him to rush out of his house would be the one he was impossibly hoping to run into.

"You still have that?" Jungwon points his lips to the book she was flipping. She had borrowed it from him and had yet to return it after all these years.

"Are the inclusions still there?" He continues. Although he wishes he didn't. He recalls all the little notes he left on his favorite pages just to get his feelings across and now he chuckles at the mere thought of him playing Romeo.

"They are. They're kind of tattered now, but they're still comprehensible. You do have a remarkable penmanship after all, something that's very impossible to miss."

The boy chuckles at the thought. "You do mean those things you wrote here, right?" She concerningly asks to which Jungwon only shrugs his shoulder with lips shut tight. "Well, don't mind me 'cause I'd like to think that you did."

"Suit yourself." He mutters. Little did she know he was smiling to himself with flushed cheeks.

The boy looks around the interior of the fort while whistling to the air, followed by a few jabberjays mocking his tune. They chuckle over the memory and realize they had traveled back in time.

"Jay's going to get aggressive with me on fencing once he hears about this. I've been conspiring to keep his sister hidden." He playfully smirks.

"Do you remember we used to do this in the garden lawn? Playing hide and seek just to get a glimpse of Jay's maddening face." Y/n reminisces the good old times they both used to share. Although there were petty fights here and there, what conquered most was their endearing bond.

Jungwon looks over as he vividly remembers that exact memory, "and we ended up building a fort out of the picnic sheets we used to hide in and officially made it our castle" he adds.

"I've forgotten what it's like to feel young." Y/n lets out a deep sigh, minding the pressure she's bearing now that she's about to be offered to the life-long commitment that is marriage.

Jungwon looks over her, feeling all concerned with the worries that she might be facing as of late; things that he wouldn't have any knowledge of as a man.

Society has dictated women's place in the world as persons who are supposed to be emotional, submissive, and homely; something very opposed to those of men. Knowing Y/n well enough and how she enjoys her liberty, her own principles, Jungwon worries her future companion, if not him, would find her very indifferent and of no use in the long run.

And it pains him to think that she wouldn't be well off with someone even worse than him.

She deserves more and he knows that fully well.

"Well, I, for one, miss moments like this more than anything." He lightens the mood in hopes of seeing that beautiful smile on her face.

As he turns to her, the two lock eyes. In that moment, Yang Jungwon swore of laying out his long-hidden sentiments. Under normal circumstances, he would speak his mind. But with Y/n looking at him like this, he would most likely fuck things up.

And he fails himself yet again.

"So uhh… you and the duke-to-be, huh? That must be thrilling." He looks away and pretends to play with the twigs on the ground.

"Y-Yeah! Yeah, indeed, it is. The promenade went well today… before the two decided to sabotage it."

"Do tell."

"We're all aware of how Niki ultimately detests the marquess, aren’t we? He kind of uhh… insulted the man in front of mother."

"And… Jay?"

"Stole the marquess from me to have a word with him."

"I reckon he had many words with him."

Y/n chagrins at the imagination of Jay going head to head with the marquess. Being the overprotective one, Jay will go out of his way to expel threats in the family.

"You seem to be clearly aware of that. Yet you entertained His Grace anyway. I pity Niki. He must be going through a loophole of shit again, now that his dear sister's off strutting with that man." Jungwon blurts out, though he wishes he never did… again.

He is clearly rusty and he kind of admits it now.

"That man? Whatever's the matter with all of you?! You dare speak of him like you know what happened between him and my brother-"

"Y/n, we all went to the same university. What makes you think I know nothing?"

"That man you're referring to was just the man who saved me from an embarrassing night, no thanks to you."

Jungwon scoffs at her pettiness.

"Don't turn away with those remarks now. You toyed with me that night, left me there with nothing but utter shame to bring home. I'm sure you're very proud of that now."

Promenading would be every woman's desire, indeed. But being ghosted or fled from is something that every woman fears, especially when they've been shunned by someone they adore the most. Such shame and reproach haunts them for almost the rest of their lives, especially when the ton won't let them sleep at night with that reminder.

"Have you not at least any bit of politeness left in you? You must be ashamed, asking my brother for such favor that you cannot even put through yourself."

"I have my reasons."

"I highly doubt they're even valid." Y/n retorts. Jungwon sighs in exasperation, finding the situation rather unnecessary that he'd rather keep his mouth shut. She deserves to let her anger out after all.

"Whatever happened to you?" She mutters under her breath, looking over to the boy who kept his head hung low with his elbows leaning on his raised knees. "Sometimes, I look at you and see a completely different person. You know, I never learned to read your mind, Jungwon. So stop giving me all these silent treatments as if something happened even though nothing ever did."

Jungwon lets out a sharp exhale before poking his cheek with his tongue. "Stop seeing Sunghoon then. If you care so much about your brother, stop frolicking around with that scoundrel."

Y/n scoffs at him, followed by the rolling of her eyes, trying to stifle an untimely tear from falling.

"You're unbelievable! Just so you know, I've wasted many sleepless nights crying because of your stupid ass, and I still do for heaven's sake! But now it's very clear to me that there's no amount of crying left that I can do for you!"

Y/n groans heavily before standing up from the pillow she was sitting on, throwing the Austen book hardly on the cold ground.

"So much for hearing nothing but the truth from you, huh? I despise you, Jung. Very much."

She runs off from the boy for what seemed like the nth time. For the past years, this exact scene had happened. Jungwon closes his eyes and lets himself fall harshly on the pillows. He raises a hand over his head, looking at the gaps between his fingers thinking of how he let her slip away, again. He drowns himself in deep thoughts, all the while trusting that Y/n will forget this day ever happened, like before.

He knows she will.

At least, that's what he tells himself.

Though deep down, his stomach churns in fear.

And there's no one to blame but his damning pride.

*send me an ask or a message if you wish to be added on this series' taglist!

#kpopscape #enhypenwriters #enhypennetwork #of lords and mischiefs #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen series #enhypen fics #enhypen jungwon #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jay #enhypen jake #enhypen sunoo #enhypen niki #iland daniel

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loveafterthefact · 4 years ago

Text

Love After the Fact Chapter 4: Empty Union

Lance and Keith marry, and endure what every couple endures: gossip.

First Previous Next

Lance hears Keith's footsteps falter, hears a tiny chirp as they reach the doors to the throne room. He grits his teeth and pretends he didn't. There's nothing he can do right now except bear the brunt of the work.

The procession enters the throne room, Lance allowing his gossamer cloak to drag the floor behind him. His gold decorations chime in time with his steps. He recognizes a few of his previous paramours among the throng. Poor things. They’ll surely miss him.

Lance has plans.

Lance is the last to ascend the dais, glancing to his sister as she takes her former place next to Coran. Lance sits carefully in his throne, hands dangling from the arms of his chair. His father reaches out to his quintessence, disapproving, and Lance’s gloved hands find their way into his lap, clasped just so. King Alfor draws away.

The doors open again, Emperor Zarkon and Empress Honerva leading the procession in, Prince Lotor following, then Keith, just behind.

The kit looks terrified, but also like he’s trying to look impassive. Lance’s insides clench with guilt. His eyes find a predesignated corner, to where Hunk and Pidge stand. The only people beside his family that Lance actually wanted here. Hunk is smiling, offering a thumbs up. Pidge waves, even as their eyes keep sliding to Keith’s smallish form.

Lance wonders fleetingly if Keith might like them. Hunk, certainly, since the Balmeran will keep him from starving to death. Everyone loves Hunk, anyway. Perhaps he’ll like Pidge, too. The Olkari can be loud and overzealous, but they can be understanding, too. Something Keith might appreciate. Lance makes a note to introduce them to each other as soon as possible...

The royal family of Daibazaal stands to one side of the aisle. Keith kneels before the dais, Shiro’s hand upon his right shoulder.

“Speak, Lord Yurak of House Kogane of Daibazaal,” Alfor murmurs, quiet voice booming through the room. Alfor commands a room just by being in it.

Keith opens his mouth. The entire congregation must hear that shuddering, composing breath. It rings in Lance’s ears.

“I, Lord Yorak of House Kogane of Daibazaal, do hereby swear fealty to the Planet Altea and the presiding Crown. I give my life to the people, my essence to the earth, and my heart to the one who would take it.”

“Speak, Crown Prince Lancel of Altea.” Alfor leans back almost imperceptibly, all the cue Lance needs. Lance stands, slow and trembling. He steps forward, stopping at the edge of the dais, standing right in front of Keith. Allura stands just behind him, hand on his right shoulder.

“I, Crown Prince Lancel of Altea, do hereby accept your oath of fealty to Planet Altea and the presiding Crown. I accept your life, and will keep it well. I accept your essence, and will hold it dear. I accept your heart, and will treasure it always. I, in turn, offer you my life, essence, and heart for your own, to keep, hold dear, and treasure.”

“I accept your generous offer, as you have accepted mine.” Keith sounds like he would rather be anywhere else. He sounds tired.

“Your oaths are heard, understood, and approved, and hereby you are wed,” Alfor declares.

Allura’s hand slips away as she retakes her place. Lance removes his gloves and holds out a hand. Keith takes it, ascending the dais and entering the Altean royal family. Lance turns to Adam, who holds a small pillow bearing a circlet. He lays his gloves next to the piece.

Their hands are now bare to one another, and therefore, so are their hearts. There is no longer anything to separate them.

There is everything to separate them.

Lance gently lifts the circlet, settling it on top of Keith’s head, where it just barely brushes against his ears where it sits between them. They twitch and rotate, adjusting to the gentle touch. It’s kind of adorable.

Lance simply sighs in relief: it fits. Pidge had nearly throttled him when he’d asked them to modify it. Then they’d conceded that they should have thought about Galra ears in the first place.

“Behold Crown Prince Lancel and Prince Yorak of Altea!” Alfor booms. The crowd cheers, more excited for the banquet than for the marriage of their Crown Prince to some smallish Galra nobody.

Lance does his duty and pulls Keith close, one hand at the small of his back, another softly cradling Keith’s face. He presses their lips together as gently and sweetly as he can. Keith responds, his attempt inept, obviously inexperienced.

It would be sweet, if not for the reasons. Instead of dwelling on that, Lance pulls back, rubbing their noses together sweetly. Putting on a show. He draws the pliant Galra into a gentle embrace. That tail wraps around Lance's ankle.

Leaning his head to the side, Lance whispers in Keith’s ear, “Do you remember what I told you in the drawing room?” The Galra nods, muscles shifting beneath Lance��s hands. “The court is a den of lions. Bear with it, and I will get you away as soon as I can, I promise.”

Keith draws back, meets his gaze, but says nothing. Lance isn’t troubled. After all, he’d told the newly-appointed prince to trust no one.

Instead, Lance pulls him in for another kiss, this one more affirming. The courtiers coo and babble. The illusion is working.

...Somewhat.

Keith understands what Lance kept going on about roughly five doboshes into the dinner. The underhanded compliments. The kind that make Keith seethe like nothing else.

“He’s almost cute. For a Galra.”

“Oh, by the Ancients! He has a tail! Oh well. There are worse things, I suppose.”

“It’s actually quite fortunate that he’s small, when you think about it... Not-not that I’m thinking about it dear!”

“He seems gentler than most of his kind.”

“It’s best that he’s the quiet sort. Don’t want those fangs scaring away common folk.”

“He seems surprisingly well-adapted to civilized society.”

“I understand he’s intersex. Freaky, but I suppose it’s for the best. We do need an heir after all. Hopefully they’ll put him away somewhere during, though. I don’t want to see that.”

“He seems very young if you ask me. Almost too young. Though the Crown Prince is probably into that, if we’re being honest.”

Keith stares down at the weird Altean food. It all tastes ‘sweet’, or so he’s been told. He can’t taste ‘sweet.’ Has no concept of it. Instead, everything tastes like what he imagines hatred would taste like: tiny hints and aftertastes that leave him nauseous. He can’t eat.

Lance’s hand reaches down to where his own are clasped tightly in his lap and gently squeezes them. Keith flinches, forgetting his place for a moment, and the warm hand slips away.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Lance chatting seemingly untroubled with some courtier who’s commenting on how the Altean garb “almost seems to suit the little creature.”

“He was trying to reassure you,” Shiro murmurs in his ear, switching to their native tongue in case anyone overhears.

“Of what?” Keith whispered back. “That he likes kits?”

“I doubt it. He was all but scolding Emperor Zarkon this morning. I was listening by the door.” Keith feels a little better at that. Perhaps Lance will be gentle with him, if nothing else.

Never trust an Altean.

Lance is an enemy in an exceptionally pleasing guise. His ears are adorned with piercings and clasps, tiny gold chains strung between them. His bottom lip is painted gold, his upper in blue. His eyes are lined with blue and gold kohl. His bright blue scales glitter in the light. Even his fingernails are blue and gold. Death in a luxurious vessel.

His smile is pretty too, especially when it reaches his eyes. The only people he seems keen to smile at are his sister and Prince Lotor, though he does try for his fathers. And for Keith.

The prince is definitely trying to smile for him. He never looks happy, though. Keith imagines Lance is disappointed. No doubt he would rather have an Altean sitting beside him.

“It doesn’t matter anyway. He’s still going to-” Keith breaks off, scared. His mating instincts, his drive haven’t even kicked in yet. As he is, his instincts are to run, or, if cornered, to lash out. Like any kit. Shiro gives him another pained look, ears down and to the side in a show of distress. Keith takes a deep breath, pushing down his fear, getting control of himself again. He cannot seem weak before these people.

“Well it’s good that he’s so young. He can still be civilized,” a booming Altean voice rings out. Keith stiffens, on the verge of losing his temper, when Lance raises his voice.

“The next person who says a single word against my spouse or our guests will be removed from court. I’ve had enough.” Silence rings out. Lance sips casually from his chalice, not visibly troubled. “Prince Yorak has married into a society that has spent centuries perfecting the art of killing his species. He is extremely brave, and for that and more, he means the world to me. I won’t tolerate another word. Especially from you, Lord Lanval. You’re drunk. Go home.”

Lance rises from his seat in one fluid motion, offers Keith a bangled hand. Keith stares at it, a confusing mix of fear and gratitude making him slow. But anything’s better than being here. He takes the prince’s hand.

The prince turns to his parents, bows.

“Forgive me. I did not mean to cause such a scene. But we are tired, and shall take our leave.” Alfor nods, looking tired as well. Coran’s eyes seem to smile a little. As they head out, Lance puts a hand on Shiro’s shoulder, leaning down to his ear as the conversation begins to pick backup again, loud and lewd as they make their exit. “When you get to your room, Adam will bring you something else to eat. Don’t force yourself,” he whispers. Shiro has never looked so grateful.

The emperor isn’t eating either. Keith assumes something has been prepared for him as well.

He follows the prince out of the dining hall, comments and bawdy jokes hooted after them. Lance sighs, managing a small smile for him. "Come on. Let's get out of here so I can take this paint off my face. It's been driving me crazy all day. And you can take off that stiff vest. I'm sure you hate it."

"I do," Keith admitted. "I really, really do."

"Quiznak, me too. Let's get out of here. There should be some food waiting for you when we get there."

Keith smiles a small, genuine smile as the prince tugs him along down a series of hallways. It's only the second time that Crown Prince Lancel has seemed like a real person as opposed to some particularly well-groomed pet.

Keith likes this person.

#LoveAftertheFact #LAtF #klance #galtean au #altean lance #galra keith #adashi #altean adam #galra shiro #voltron legendary defender #vld

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serpentmythos · 5 years ago

Text

Scars - Baron Draxum/OC One Shot

3.8k words, SWF (Mentions of gore, blood, and mild nudity)

A monstrous snarl echoed through the maze of tunnels that was New York's Underground City, followed by the slamming of something heavy on metal. A clawed hand lashed out, ripping paper from corkboard and sending pages fluttering through the air, only to settle haphazardly across the concrete beneath. Baron Draxum grit his teeth, eyeing the discarded notes with the purest of malice and malcontent. "Now now, My Lord, that can't be good for your blood pressure..." A mythic-sounding female voice sounded from behind him, one that the warring warrior scientist had grown accustomed to hearing as time passed. He let out another snarl, looking over his shoulder to glare at the immortal Queen of Egypt. "Your Majesty..." He growled, tone filled with warning, one that the woman clearly didn't heed.

Nafretiri chuckled and shook her head, folding her arms under her chest and giving him a knowing grin. "Errors in your stoichiometry again?" She questioned, and Draxum groaned, slapping his hand to his forehead and dragging it down his face. "No matter what I try, I can't seem to get the same results as the first!" He griped, turning around and slamming his hands on the metal lab table, making laboratory glassware shudder and shake in protest. A few empty test tubes rolled off the table and threatened the shatter on the ground, but with a snap of her fingers, a golden aura surrounded them. The tubes floated lazily through the air before righting themselves back into their proper racks. "Well, you certainly aren't going to get the same results by throwing a tantrum."

“You’d be wise to hold your tongue, woman.” Draxum warned, which made the enchantress roll her one remaining eye and scowl. “And a Baron would be wise to not order a Queen’s silence.” She snapped back without missing a beat. Draxum sighed, not having an appetite for Nafretiri’s sass at the moment. He needed to figure out what was going wrong in his formula notes, but now that a distraction was here in the form of The Oracle, his mind had little energy left to devote to focusing on his work… Watching the way his shoulders relaxed, and hearing the breath that left his lips, Nafretiri smirked.

“Come away from the table, Draxum. Allow me to help you with relieving a little stress.” She spoke, waving her hand and materializing a golden staff, a striking cobra coiled around the upper quarter of it. The Baron let out a low chuckle, knowing precisely what the enchantress was referring to. “With pleasure, Your Majesty.” He muttered, producing a pair of purple seed pods in his palm. A wicked grin spread across Nafretiri’s wine red lips, gold snake bite piercings glinting in the dim green light of the underground laboratory. Draxum turned, an insane grin of his own plastered on his face. The two relocated to a more spacious and open area of the lab, standing on opposing sides of the great room. Crushing a seed pod in each hand, a toxic purple slime encrusted up the length of Draxum’s arms, spikes erupting from various places upon his limbs. With the subtlest of nods, Nafretiri raised her arms, one clutching her staff, the other facing her open palm towards the male in front of her. Her palm brushed against the back of the golden cobra’s hood, its ruby eyes beginning to glow a brilliant red. The same golden miasma that surrounded the test tubes earlier began to envelope the cobra and her empty hand, a golden aura flickering from her eye as well. “O Geb, Mighty Lord of Land and Earth, lend me your Might!” She called, voice echoing with a bizarre power that had since been lost to times long ago. “Rise ye, soldiers, my Sentinels of the Desert Sands! Strike down this enemy of The Pharaoh, so your Queen commands it!”

As she recited her incantation, she moved her other arm out towards him, her open palm now facing the ground beneath her. Sand began cascading down from her palm, and pouring out of the golden cobra’s gaping mouth, the grit flowing freely around its bared fangs. Slowly the mounting piles of sand began to take shape, morphing themselves into pairs of tall and imposing looking golems, broad-shouldered and solidly built. Draxum’s grin only grew as he witnessed The Oracle channeling her magic. It was other-worldly, graceful, powerful to behold. No matter how many times he had borne witness to it, it made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, and his skin prickle with excitement. The woman before him truly was a force to be reckoned with. Perhaps if he could convince her to join his cause…? He didn’t have the luxury of time to finish his internal musings, as one of her Sentinels rushed him, stone spear poised to impale itself through his abdominal cavity. He raised his arms into a quick guard, the stone spear point shattering upon impact with his armored limbs. A swipe of his hand summoned a massive vine, the wood-y plant’s flesh colored the same toxic purple as his arms. The vine twirled and whipped about, thrusting itself through the Sentinel’s chest. With one swift flicking motion, the sand golem was sent flying through the air, crashing into another and both collapsing into dust. The sheer giddiness the Baron felt was clear in his expression. Golems could not feel the same pain that he and The Oracle could. Draxum could be as ruthless and destructive as he wanted to be with them, with no fear of repercussions. He could rip them apart and fling them about like ragdolls without a care. And sometimes that was the purest form of joy in the world.

And thanks to Nafretiri’s magic, there were endless waves of the sand brutes to work through, further honing his skill, perfecting his fighting style, testing the limits of his stamina. This was a challenge, and oh, how Draxum loved a good challenge. Despite the seemingly infinite supply of golems, he made it his silent goal to push Nafretiri’s defenses back, to corner her, to exercise his superiority over the Queen. He would tear down her walls of Sentinels one by one until there was nothing left! Force that haughty woman to bow before him! Another Sentinel fell, and another. Vines whipped and flailed, writhed and stabbed, cutting down the golems one by one as they rushed mindlessly towards the warrior scientist. Ones that managed to slip though his botanical defenses, Draxum finished off himself with nothing more than a few well-placed strikes. The more golems she created, the more Draxum found himself falling into a frenzy, relishing in the delight that the sandy carnage surrounding him brought. But, he might have been the only one enjoying it…

Across from the Baron, behind the much taller forms of the Sentinels, Nafretiri’s arms quaked. Sweat beaded along her brow, and her teeth gritted together from the strain. Usually Draxum was satisfied with just a few dozen golems slaughtered, but he was pushing well into the hundreds, now. This was far more than she could handle without more advanced preparations! As each Sentinel fell to Draxum’s might, Nafretiri felt her consciousness fading. She was only barely aware of the toxic purple vines creeping closer to her, and Draxum pressing further into her defenses. A vine swept a wave of Sentinels out of the way, and it coiled itself snugly around her waist. However, it had only just begun to bring her closer to Draxum, when everything went dark. Her body slumped and her grip on her staff slackened, before the golden artifact slipped out of her fingers entirely, falling to the floor with a metallic clatter. Without her staff to channel her magic, the Sentinels froze in place and soon collapsed into piles of sand once again, before slowly beginning to fade from existence entirely. Draxum let out a laugh of triumph, and as the last Sentinels began to freeze and fall at his cloven feet, he prepared to gloat over his apparent victory. Except, instead of the Queen standing there with a displeased scowl like he expected, her slack form in his vine caught him off guard. “Nafretiri…?” Her name had barely left his lips before her body went completely limp, head falling forward and her golden mantle falling, the crown rolling away from her and coming to rest at his feet.

His eyes went wide in shock, and slowly he began to approach the unconscious body of the Queen. “Your… Majesty?” Draxum questioned, reaching out to lift her chin. However, when his clawed fingers were just a few inches away from her, a great golden spark leapt from her body to his, electrifying him and making him snarl in pain and surprise. He grit his teeth and withdrew his hand, as a warmth cascading from his hand up and through his body. He looked up when the pulses of magic began radiating from his form, and the same pulses came from the slumped form of the enchantress in his vines. A few more pulses, this time slower, before the magical energy froze in the air. Draxum looked about in confusion, letting out a small shout when the energy suddenly imploded in on the two, and promptly exploded back out, only this time it was different.

The explosion of magical energy seemed to transform the empty room they were in. Great stone pillars erupted from the ground, stone walls came alive with colorful murals depicting hunts, coronation ceremonies, images of war. Gold, ghostly silhouettes of hundreds of people began to fill the room, their faint and echoing voices chattering in a tongue he couldn’t understand. A pair of great wooden doors swung open, and music swelled. A procession began to file in, and figures that he could only assume were religious ones entered first, swinging metal pots of burning incense and filling the air with smoke. He tried to dodge out of the way but froze instead, when he realized that the ghostly priestesses simply… Walked right through him. As if HE were the apparition here... The musicians came next, plucking their harps and lutes, shaking strange loops of metal that made sounds like tambourines, banging their animal skin drums, clapping their hands to a beat he was unfamiliar with. His eyes widened further as the next group came in, taking him aback completely. He stumbled back and tripped over Nafretiri’s crown, falling to the ground as the dancers moved in. The chiming of bells reached him, flowing skeins of dyed, sheer muslin graced every woman, with thick gilded necklaces being the only thing obscuring their breasts from prying eyes. His eyes fell on one dancer in particular, and familiarity tugged hard at his mind. Why did he feel as if he knew her...?

Her hair was woven into dozens upon dozens of braids, multitudes of fine gold and glass beads adorning each one. Her makeup accentuated her beautiful face, but what sparked his memory wasn’t her face, but instead it was her eyes… That same piercing gaze that always seemed to look into his very soul… “Nafre…tiri?” He asked, slowly coming to a stand as the apparition of the now-mortal enchantress made her way towards him. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her graceful form, her dance was absolutely hypnotizing! The way her body moved and flexed, each motion flowing into the next so smoothly… It took his breath away. He tried to reach out to her, but the door slammed shut behind the end of the procession, and the celebration scene suddenly flashed out of existence. He started as they were suddenly in a courtyard, two young men vying for the affections of a now more modestly (well, modest by ancient standards) dressed Nafretiri. One tried to woo her with gifts of tigers’ pelts and exotic perfumes, while the other recited poems of his own writing. The next scene flashed, and she was kneeling with one of the young men in some kind of religious temple, in front of rectangular pool, floating flowers on the water and praying to a massive stone statue of a falcon-headed man. Movement out of the corner of his eye made Draxum turn his head, and the first young man from before was hiding behind a pillar, scowling and his eyes filled with heartbreak and bitter envy.

The hazy apparitions continued to show the progression of Nafretiri’s life. The passing of the previous Pharaoh from illness, the younger of his twin sons ascending to the throne with Nafretiri as his Queen, the older twin becoming his advisor. The couple in the Pharaoh’s bed chambers, bodies obscured by a veil, but silhouettes depicting a passionate embrace and a kiss that only two lovers could ever hope to share. A religious ceremony with the Pharaoh and his Queen sitting on raised thrones carried by soldiers, Nafretiri’s belly swollen and round with child. The pained screaming of the new mother as she lay in an ornately decorated pool of water, squeezing her King’s hand as midwives attended to the birthing of the young prince. The crying baby boy being lifted from the water, his umbilical cord cut with a knife, and both cord and afterbirth placed in a dish for sacrifice to the goddesses in exchange for the child’s protection. Nafretiri whimpered as the midwife handed her the little prince, and through her tears of pain she was smiling the dreamiest of smiles. She whispered something that sounded like a blessing (Draxum couldn’t be sure, this birthing process as a whole was something he had never seen before), kissing the crying baby’s forehead and nuzzling him close to her breast. The child grew before his eyes, from a crying newborn, to a babbling baby, and finally a rambunctious toddler that the slaves and nursemaids would chase endlessly throughout the palace. The Pharaoh scooped the boy into his arms, laughing heartily and carrying the prince outside to his mother, where she was dressed for a journey and seated in a barge for a trip down river. She bid a tearful farewell to her son, and kissed her husband, before a blessing was said over the barge by priests, and sailed off down the river, fading away.

It was only now that Draxum realized that the Pharaoh’s advisor had been present through every apparition, always nearby, but never truly getting involved. Always eyeing his brother and nephew with malice. But this time, he noticed the absence of the older twin. Draxum caught a glimpse of the man behind another pillar, holding a perforated earthen ware pot, with a muslin lid secured over the top with a red cord, and a manic grin on his face. The half-mutant snarled a bit, not liking the look of that pot in the slightest. Something was amiss. Some more timed passed, and the Pharaoh and little prince were napping peacefully in the Pharaoh’s bed chamber. Silent as a mouse, the advisor crept in, carefully setting down the pot and undoing the red cord. Tipping the pot over with his foot, ashen gray and tan scales of an Egyptian cobra could be seen. Slowly, the serpent slithered its way out of the ceramic vessel. It lifted a portion of its body off of the floor, raising its head before slithering towards the bed, silently moving its body under the linen covers, where the ruler and young heir were sleeping. The advisor picked up the pot and closed the wooden door to the bed chamber. Not long after, as the advisor was walking down the hall, the high-pitched and pained shrieking of the toddler prince, and the panicked shouts of the Pharaoh sent the palace staff sprinting towards the bed chamber.

The scene that flashed next, was a gut wrenching one. Nafretiri walking up from the tomb of her now-mummified husband and son, eyes puffy, and red from crying. The older twin feigned sympathy, hugging the woman, comforting her. It made Draxum’s blood boil. The funerary procession marched somberly back through the desert to the capital city. The apparitions progressed further, showing the older twin rising to rule, and exercising his newfound power in such a ruthless fashion that it shocked even Draxum. Monuments of the old Pharaoh were toppled, his burial tomb destroyed, scrolls burned, murals torn down, and repainted. Those who mentioned the old king or young prince were publically executed. This new Pharaoh took every step he could to erase his brother and nephew from the annals of history. Nafretiri simply sat back and… Watched it all happen. She spent a majority of her time in the palace locked in her bed chamber. The Queen grew thin, her eyes sunken, her once-beautiful face having turned gaunt from grief. To see the apparition before him, and comparing it to the immortal enchantress he knew now, it was like comparing night and day. To see the strong and powerful woman he knew so weak… Draxum felt a tightness in his chest. His heart ached for her. He wanted to reach out to the apparition, to pull it close to him, and comfort her. But those feelings were brief. They were soon replaced with the deepest rage, and bottomless hate, for the man who did this to her. He let out a roar and lunged for the form of the new Pharaoh, but the scene changed again.

Nafretiri and the Pharaoh were arguing. Nafretiri yelling through tears and the Pharaoh drawing ever closer to her, clearly demanding that she hand something over. When the woman continued to refuse, Draxum’s anger only mounted higher as the Pharaoh seized his wife, and plunged his hand into her right eye, ripping the beautiful green orb from its socket and throwing it to the floor. The sound of the blood pounding in his ears and his vision going red obscured the sight of Nafretiri crumpling to the floor and clutching her face, and droned out the poor Queen’s shrieks of unimaginable pain. Draxum lunged once more for the Pharaoh’s apparition, but obviously phased right through him. He was about to try again when there was a gasp from behind him, and the Baron whirled around as the scene surrounding him faded. They were back in his lab, Nafretiri had regained consciousness! In his anger the vine that restrained her had rotted away, leaving the immortal Enchantress in a crumpled heap on the floor. She was panting, her eye wide, and hands shaking. Slowly, Draxum approached her, picking up her fallen crown and holding it out to her.

It took Nafretiri a moment to register what was happening, but she looked up at Draxum holding her crown out to her. Nodding in silent thanks, she took the crown and placed it back on to her head. “I fail to understand…” Draxum spoke, making Nafretiri glare up at him in disdain. “You know damn well that if I overexert myself, I lose control of my-“

“I’m not talking about that!” Draxum interrupted, startling the woman. Growling, he was clenching his fists as his face went dark. “I fail to understand how you don’t hold the same hatred for humanity that I do! That wretched waste of organic material… That, false king… What he did was unforgivable, scarred you for life!” He shouted.

Nafretiri looked down at her hands, as she slowly came back to a stand, piecing together what happened when she passed out. She remembered… Bits and pieces of her past life floating through in a dream like state. She must’ve projected her dream into the real world when she fainted and lost control of her power. Draxum… Draxum witnessed everything. The treachery that lead to her death. The disgraceful acts that left her permanently disfigured, even now, thousands of years later. She was, as he said, scarred for life… “That was nearly three thousand years ago, Draxum…” She muttered, refusing to look up, her hair obscuring most of her face from him. “As the Mighty Ra’s solar barque sails ever forward, bringing with it one new day after another, scars begin to fade away…”

Draxum came forward, grabbing her chin and forcefully lifting her face to look at him as he leaned in, staring at the muslin bandages that obscured her hollow right eye socket from the rest of world. Her remaining eye was wet with tears, something he wasn’t expecting. His mind briefly flitted back to the crying, grieving Queen in the apparition of her dream. “Scars may fade, but they never truly heal, do they?” He snarled, but it wasn’t as threatening as before. She jerked her head out of his grip, turning and kneeling down to pick up her golden staff. “Touché…” She responded, looking over her staff and keeping her back turned to him.

Pursing his lips, Draxum stood there for a while, before coming closer to her. The armor on his arms cracked and flaked, decaying away from his skin and returning his limbs to normal. Just as she turned back to face him, she felt a tightness wrap itself around her body. She came face to face (or rather, face to chest) with the warring warrior scientist, the half mutant pulling her into a hug. It was a strange thing for Draxum to do. She expected such action from Huginn and Muninn, but from Draxum… Her vision went blurry as more tears formed, and she failed in choking back a sob, wrapping her arms around the Baron and burying her face into his chest. The Queen leaned into him, crying her heart out as all the painful memories came flooding back. He squeezed her a bit tighter, placing a hand on her head. “I’m sorry, Nafretiri…” He muttered, not expecting a reply. After what seemed like ages, the tears began to slow, and her sobs were replaced by whimpering hiccups. “I need to get back to work now…” Was all Draxum said before letting go of her and turning to walk back into the main part of his lab, leaving her there to dry her tears and regain her composure.

Huginn and Muninn flew down from their perch in the rafters, draping a small blanket around her shoulders. “C’mon, gorgeous, we’ll escort you back to your hotel…” Muninn spoke softly, Huginn nodding in agreement and gently pushing the Queen in the direction of the lab's exit. Draxum watched his gargoyle minions tend to the grieving Queen from the darkened hallway, gritting his teeth as his mind recalled all that he saw. Snarling, he shoved himself off the wall and strode off back into the lab, picking up his discarded notes and working on them with renewed spite, vigor, and determination. His eyes drifted up to the test tubes that Nafretiri saved from breaking earlier, reaching over to pick one up. Growling, he shattered the glass in his hand and dropped the shards to the floor. Humanity will pay for their transgressions… Not just towards yokai and mutant-kind, but towards Nafretiri as well. Humanity and their ancestors will suffer. They will all… Suffer.

(A/N: Please leave comments and criticisms, I wanna know how I can improve my writing ; u ; Reblogs > Likes.)

#rottmnt #rottmnt baron draxum #baron draxum #rottmnt oc #one shot #hurt/comfort

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zeronexfenris · 7 years ago

Text

The Declawed Demon Pt.2

Zeronex and Bonnie had argued for hours. Though to him it felt like days, months, years. Every scream, every thrown object at his head. He was stubborn, and she knew it. She knew he was not going to take no for an answer. He was going to Mac’Aree, he was leaving her behind, whether she liked it or not. As her yells echoed through the small space. He grunted and walked to the cave entrance, finally having had enough of the insatiable yelling. “I’m going -now- you will -not- stop me Cromwell.” He looked over his shoulder as he flared his nostrils. He then made his way out. It had been two days since he saw Mefistoph. He had a plan, whether it worked or not was another thing. He removed the necklace that Iodei had given him at that point, knowing that if she desired Bonnie could simply utilize the properties of the necklace and pull him through the Nether. Something that Zeronex was not okay with and certainly did not want. If he were going to die, it would be on the field of battle. He would not run and leave his friend behind.

As he scaled the side of the mountain he transformed. His body snapping and bending to form. The towering Worgen leaping from the high vantage point, slamming down to the ground with a loud thud. He would take to all fours and barrel towards the Hovel. Walking to the beacon Mefistoph would meet with him. Offering a nod. A silence - one of understanding. She would know he was here against his beloved’s wishes, one day they would be forced to accept each other, though right now they had one mission. The Eredar lord. Zeronex and Mefistoph found themselves in Mac’Aree after utilizing the transporter. Zeronex still had little idea how they worked, but he made little complaints. The faster he could traverse the area, the better. Zeronex with that in mind got onto all fours, Mefistoph leaping onto his back as he charged from the beacon leaping into the air. His grunts and growls could be heard over the clinking of his armor.

He was heading towards the cavern that Mefistoph was steering him too. He never paused. Mefistoph’s glaives tearing through anything that got close to them. They were a monstrous machine. A tank mowing down whatever they crossed paths with. As they reached the cavern, Mefistoph pulled for him to stop, he never did. He was seeing red. A large felguard stood at the caverns entrance, though there was no stopping him, Zeronex leaped forward. His claws digging straight into the flesh and piercing through the little bit of armor on the shoulder. The Felguard dropping it’s weapon instantly as Zeronex slammed his fangs straight into the throat, tearing it straight out as the blood dribbled from his mouth, a sick grin formed. A few other demons ran headlong toward Zero, his claws making quick work of them. Blood spraying across the caverns walls. Another Felguard tried to come from behind, though Mefistoph’s glaives found themselves quickly slammed into the unsuspecting demons skull. Zeronex wasted little time as he charged deeper into the cavern, much to Mefistoph’s protest. The howls of demons, gurgling, blood spraying. As they came to an open spacious area, Zeronex growled, a large imp mother fluttered it’s way around. Mefistoph finally caught up, but Zeronex was on the move again. He was barreling on all fours, before he took to his two hind feet, drawing his blade and shield. The light bursting from him as he sprouted wings and leaped into the air, a loud howl echoed through the caverns, alerting everything within it, than the vicious scream of the mother. Zeronex was perched atop the demon, blade slammed through it’s head, blood sprayed as he focused his energy and the light through his body, beams of light started to pierce through the body as cracks formed. “Be one with the light, you disgusting pile of filth...” With that the imp mother exploded, letting out a scream that curdled the blood of Zeronex himself. Chunks of flesh hit the floor with a sound of cheese that flapped onto a cold marble floor. Zeronex was thrown back, covered in the disgusting flesh of the demon he just had slain. Though that scream brought a large group of demons, imps spawning all throughout the large open cavern, though it was the Eredar lord that made her presence known.

“Oh Demon Hunter... You have returned for more torture I see? The sodomy I gave you before was enough to bring you back? It seems your demon does indeed enjoy it’s lustful side.” Mefistoph didn’t waste much time, she leaped into the air and slammed down with a force as she transformed. Releasing a beam of Fel Fire from her eyes. Torching most of the imps in the area, and causing the rest to scurry off. “You will watch your tongue Demon!” Zeronex perked a brow, hopefully she did not get cocky like last time. His eyes drifting between the two as he caught his breath. Wiping some of the blood from his face. The Eredar lord glanced to Zeronex offering a smirk. “You brought yourself a heroic user of the light! How adorable, do you think it will make a difference? You and your dog will be put down and rest forever here on Argus! This will be your tomb. Do you understand!” Zeronex let out a growl, though Mefistoph raised her hand. He knew that this was a grudge match between the two though for how long was yet to be seen.

It was not long before the two began to battle, glaive on claw, the two moving fluidly and swiftly throughout the open space. Random bursts of green light illuminating the dim cave. Zeronex followed. His eyes watching each blow and strike, Mefistoph was out matched, this one was strong. Trading blow after blow. He watched as Mefistoph began to take more and more attacks, then a swift hit sent her flying into the wall. Zeronex made a motion to move, though she raised her hand again. Pausing, he fidgeted letting out a gentle sigh. The demon chuckled. “Oh? You think you have a chance...? Even with the help of your pet dog, you would lose you understand.” Zeronex grunted gritting his teeth. Mefistoph and the Demon continued to fight, blood pouring from the head wound Mefistoph just endured. Another strong shot sent Mefistoph straight toward Zeronex where she landed with a thud sliding into the wall. Zeronex growled again watching as Mefistoph stumbled back up, she leaped into the air and transformed into her demon form. Blow after blow traded, though the Eredar lord seemed little harmed or phased. Zeronex grit his teeth as he watched another strong blow smack Mefistoph, sending her straight into the wall. Zeronex could wait no longer as he leaped forward. The demon lashing out at Zeronex, he brought his shield up which took most of the blow though sent him flying back.

A loud crash of metal and stone as Zeronex slid down the wall to the floor with a thud. “Well, that didn’t go as planned.” He glanced to Mefistoph who was barely conscious at this point. Shaking his head. “Should not have let you do this alone, should have known better.” He sighed as he pushed himself up and walked to Mefistoph and put the necklace Iodei gave onto her. If anyone was being pulled out, it would be her. He turned, he was banking on Bonnie being aware and assuming that the one dying was Zeronex when the necklace was put on. A deep breath was taken as Zeronex dropped his blade and shield. He would have to let himself be as fluid as possible. He focused as the light surged through him, his claws glowing as they once did when he was infused with Fel. His eyes began to glow with a fire. The light coursed through his form, as he bared his teeth. Wings sprout from his back as he charged the Eredar lord. Their hands locked up as Zeronex dug his feet in deep. Pushing his strength to his limits, shoving back the demon which swiftly brought a foot up to kick the Worgen in the stomach the force caused Zeronex to release the grip they were locked into, the Eredar then landing a swift punch and slash of it’s claws across the Worgen’s stomach and chest. The armor that he wore offered no protection. Those claws tearing through it and his flesh like butter. A howl echoed and emanated from him as Mefistoph charged in. Zeronex stumbling back before leaping forward. Swipe, after swipe, glaive and claw, being ducked and dodged, countered by the demon. Before long the Demon had sent out a blast of fel fire that sent both Zeronex and Mefistoph flying into the wall. They both groaned as they pushed themselves up to a knee. A smirk as they both looked at each other. “Might be able to handle two of us, but lets see how well you handle three of us... One of them, who is a very very... Angry human woman.” Zeronex smirked over to Mefistoph. She knew who was coming, though she welcomed her at this time. He didn’t want her around for this, but he knew at this point he needed to let her in and not shove her out.

Zeronex and Mefistoph both stood, Zeronex reached over, grabbing the necklace from Mefistoph - He made a small chant as he let Bonnie into his mind, allowing her to find him through the Nether. “Come - Let’s show this Demon what the Light and Void can do in tandem.”

“And Fel” Mefistoph added with a smirk. Zeronex and Mefistoph took their stance, awaiting the arrival as the Nether tore open behind them.

@the-shadow-maiden

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princesstreaclefanfic · 5 years ago

Text

Chapter Seventeen

Disclaimer - All recognisable characters belong to their original owners. I do not make a profit from writing this; I simply do it for my own amusement. No copyright infringement intended.

Chapter Seventeen

McCarthy Residence

Rose didn’t know what she was going to see when she walked through the front door of the house. She didn’t know if she would find Emmett disintegrated on the path outside, slumped in a heap at the door or still chained up in his room.

Opening the door, she was pleasantly surprised.

Emmett was sat in the hallway, eyes closed, looking asleep. But when he heard Rosalie enter his home he opened his eyes and smiled.

“You’re alright,” she whispered, shutting the door behind her and tentatively walking towards him.

“I’d never leave you, Rosie,” he told her, eyes hungry as he took her in. All day his thoughts had been consumed with her. He thought about her face, her eyes, her lips, her laugh, her smile - everything that was Rose just to get him through the day and stop him going insane.

“You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“That’s one promise I’ll keep until my last days.”

Rose reached Emmett and stood above him, noting the angry red line that went across his neck. Her hand cradled his cheek and he leaned into her touch.

“Are you thirsty?”

He nodded.

Rose climbed onto his lap, straddling him before she placed her hands on either side of his face.

Without words, she leaned in and kissed him, tasting him. Pulling away, she smoothed her hands over his lips.

The mood had changed, the air was heavy and Emmett was horny.

His fangs descended and ever so carefully, Rose placed her thumb inside his mouth and ran it over the smooth surface of his fangs.

Looking into his eyes one more time, she brought his face to her neck, tangling her fingers in his hair as he kissed and sucked the skin.

When his fangs pierced her skin, Rose cried out and Emmett pressed her closer to him, hands splaying across her back.

Emmett sucked, drinking in the sweet taste that was just so Rosalie. It slipped over his lips and down his throat like honey, warming him from the inside out.

Rose’s breath spread across his temple as her fingers gripped his short, dark locks. She never thought feeding a vampire could be so intimate.

When Emmett had taken enough, he pulled away, his tongue swiping the remnants of her essence from around his mouth. Raising one hand up, he used it to turn her head to face him and he kissed her hard, thanking her for blood. He could already feel it healing him. The marks from where the silver had burned no longer felt like they were on fire… although Emmett was almost certain that Rose had that effect on him without her blood.

With his lips still attached to hers, Emmett stood before promptly laying her on the floor, laying his body on top of hers.

Rose moaned and then wrapped her legs around his waist.

Emmett’s hands slipped under her work t-shirt, enjoying feeling her warm skin so close to his cold skin. She warmed him through like the sun on a hot day.

“I want you,” he groaned into her neck, hips thrusting into her, desperately trying to create some friction.

“You have me,” she keened back. Heat was pulsing through her.

In no time at all, their clothes were off and Emmett was balls deep inside Rose, rocking against her, seeking to make her scream out his name in pleasure.

“Emmett…” she whined when he hitched both legs up around his waist, penetrating her deeper.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered in return. His fingers, on one hand, pinched and pulled at taut dusty pink nipples (nipples he was coming to have a great appreciation for) as the other held her leg high against his waist.

Pleasure began to blaze through Rose and she threw her head back and lost herself in the sensations.

“That’s it,” Emmett encouraged as her sweet pussy squeezed his cock. “Come for me, my beautiful Rosie.” Her pleasure ignited his and his balls began to tighten, ready to empty into her.

“Emmett - I…” she lost her words. “I’m… Lord…”

“Give it to me. Give it all to me.”

Rose’s own hips thrust into Emmett and as his pubic bone brushed her clit, she felt her orgasm wash over. The pleasure rolled over her in like a large fire consuming her whole and all Rose could do was ride it out. Her head was thrown back and she cried out Emmett’s name, her fingernails making crescent moon shaped indents in his back.

The feeling over Rose flying over the edge sent Emmett tumbling down after her. His hips lost their rhythm and he buried his face in her neck to try and stifle his groans. His cold come spurted into Rose and his hips thrust once more into her.

Emmett rolled off Rose and onto the floor as their breathing evened and they both came back down from the high they had just experienced.

Rose blushed when Emmett looked at her and she realised they had just had sex in the middle of the hallway.

“Oh my God!” she buried her face into her hands as a giggle rose out of her.

Emmett smiled and pulled her closer. He nuzzled the side of her face with his, one hand across her stomach, fingers lightly tickling her hip.

Rose turned to face him, a smile gracing her lips.

“Well, you know how my day went - how was yours?”

“Not the best.” She told him about Tyler, about Jake and then she admitted something to him. “I was worried about you.” Her fingers slipped over his face, down his neck and landed on his left pec, right above his unbeating heart. “I didn’t know if you would have made it.” Tears came to her eyes quickly and she shut them, not wanting him to see her cry.

“Shush,” Emmett soothed as he pulled her closer until once more they were skin on skin. “I’m alright. We’re alright.”

Rose and Emmett stayed like that until a shrill noise from their pile of clothes broke the silence and peace that had surrounded them. Shooting him an apologetic look, Rose sat up and reached for her shorts, fishing out her phone, looking at who was calling before answering the phone.

“Hi, Bella.”

“Hi, Rose.” Bella’s voice came through the phone. “Is Emmett alright?”

Rose gave him a smile. “He’s fine - Edward and Nessie?”

“Both fine - and Carlisle and Jasper; Esme just text.”

Rose bit her lip. “What about Jessica?” Emmett’s face formed a frown as he thought about his progeny… the person who had tried to attack Rose.

“I’ll check…” The line went silent but Rose could make out some faint talking. “Alright.” Bella’s voice came back clearer. “She’s fine - we did lose thirteen vampires…” Rose closed her eyes as Emmett squeezed her hand. No amount of vampires should have died for that bitch Maria. “But it could have been worse.”

Neither Rose nor Bella spoke for a few seconds. Then Bella broke the silence.

“Are you and Emmett busy?” Rose was suddenly glad that Bella couldn’t see her as her face flushed. Emmett gave a chuckle.

“No,” she slapped him lightly across his chest. “Why?”

Bella took a breath. “Edward’s going to confront Maria.”

***

Masen Residence

Jake pretended to watch the large television screen that was in the living room, when in fact he was listening to Edward. He’d woken not long ago, had himself released from his chains, released Nessie and was now working on whatever vampire kings did when there was a maniacal witch after them. Apparently, one of those things was arranging a donor from Nessie to feed on.

Jake waited. Edward gave him a nod of his head when he went into his office, but that was it.

The donor Edward had arranged came to the door and was let in by someone. He down to the basement and Jake didn’t move until he heard Nessie’s voice.

Getting up from his seat, he walked slowly down the stairs, knowing Nessie could sense him. He could just about make out the sound of an engine pulling up to the house, and from the sounds of it, Bella had arrived.

“I’m ready whenever you are,” Jake heard the donor say. He climbed down to the last step and entered the basement room. The jail cell had been opened and Nessie sat on her cot looking worse for wear. The ‘Donor’ (as Jake now thought of him), was sat next to her, a sickening smile on his face. He was fairly short (but then most people were to Jake), with a slim build, crooked nose and thin lips.

Nessie’s eyes flickered to Jake, and the Donor, realising they weren’t alone turned around.

“Can we have some privacy, please?”

“You’re not needed,” Jake told him, stepping towards them. “You can go.”

“King Edward-” Jake resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the title. “-said I am here to feed his progeny.”

“It’s alright,” Nessie told him. “You can go.” she looked unsure though.

The Donor looked between them before shrugging his shoulders and ascending the stairs. Good riddance, Jake thought.

Without a word, Jake sat down next to Nessie.

“Jake… I need to feed.” Even after all this time of being a vampire, Nessie still felt ashamed about her instincts.

“I know.”

Had she knocked him so hard on the heard earlier he’d become stupid?

“That means I need blood.”

“I know.”

“Which means I need a donor.” This conversation was proving to be taxing.

“I know�� which is why I’m here.” Jake pulled his shirt off as Nessie stared at him like he had grown two heads.

“No, I can’t. Not again - I’m not a monster.”

“Edward feeds from Bella - does that make him a monster?” Nessie shook her head violently.

“Then why would you feeding on me make you a monster?”

She didn’t respond.

“Nessie - I’m here, I’m willing and I’m offering.”

That was all the convincing it took.

Jake slid Nessie onto his lap as he sat back against the wall of the jail cell, wrapped his arms around her, closed his eyes and tilted his neck.

Nessie took blood from Jake, feeling eternally grateful that he allowed her to be who she was - even if she wasn’t sure that she liked that part of herself.

Afterwards, they both sat together, stillness enveloping them.

Nessie opened her mouth.

“If you thank me for what I just did, I’m going to have to get you,” he warned, eyes still closed.

“Get me?” Nessie’s eyebrow quirked upwards.

“Yes, get you.”

“What does that mean?” her mouth began to twist into a smile. “Lick me? Tickle me?”

When Jake’s eyes opened and a grin appeared on his face, Nessie knew she should not have chosen the last suggestion.

“Jake-” Nessie began, attempting to warn him off doing anything, but he was undeterred. He grabbed her waist, pulled her back against him and set about ticking her ribs.

For most people, this probably wouldn’t have bothered them, it might have made them squirm, it might have made them uncomfortable; but for Nessie, tickling was a big no-no. This was simply because she was extremely ticklish.

Within seconds of Jake’s fingers touching her, she was squirming and giggling and jerking, laughter bubbling up from her insides as her skin shuddered.

“Jake - stop!” she giggled. Twisting in his grip she tried to escape, or at least stop his fingers from gliding across her skin.

Jake laughed. It was nice to see her so carefree.

After tickling her until she was taking gasping breaths, Jake finally stopped, Nessie slumping against his chest with a large smile on her face.

“Okay,” Nessie admitted. “You got me.”

He chuckled. Nessie turned to face Jake, staring deeply into his face as she took him in.

A new silence surrounded them, but this one was different. It felt… heavier.

“Nessie...” Jake didn’t know what he was going to say or do next, but before he could, Nessie had shot up off his lap and stood in front of him.

“We should go upstairs, make sure everyone is alright.” To Jake’s surprise, she held her hand out to him. He took it gently in his as they headed up to Edward’s office.

“Hi Bella,” Nessie greeted with a tired smile.

“Hi,” she responded, taking the vampire in.

“Are you feeling better?” Edward asked and she nodded.

“What have you guys been doing?” Nessie asked, wanting to know if they had heard anything from or about Maria. She was not expecting to see Bella blush.

Nessie and Jake exchanged confused looks before they inhaled, horrified looks crossing their faces.

“Really - in his office, Bella?” Jake asked causing Bella to blush harder.

As Jake resisted the urge to vomit, Nessie turned to her maker.

“How many?”

“Thirteen.”

“Do you have a plan?”

Edward nodded. “And I’m going to need all the help I can get.” His eyes fixed on Jake and Nessie. “Can I count on you two?”

“Of course,” Jake responded.

“Always,” Nessie affirmed.

Edward bobbed his head.

“Love, can you ring Rosalie - I need her and Emmett.” Bella fished her phone out of her pocket and began to dial.

“What are you thinking?” Jake asked. Edward’s face was hard.

“I’m going to try and reason with Maria, get her to see sense.” Edward couldn’t quite believe what he was about to say. “And then, if that doesn’t work - we’re going to war.”

Thank you for reading.

#princesstreacle #princesstreaclefanfiction #twilight fanfiction #fanfic #out of the coffin #out of the coffin: the coven #out of the coffin sequel #ootc #ootc:tc #chapter seventeen #updated #canon couple #alternate universe #smut #romance #love #Rated NC17

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