#Vampire!Reader

[herossword]

Yandere Batfam with a vampire reader idea.

Reader is a unique type of vampire, possessing an extra set of teeth at the bottom jaw that allows her to perform a lockjaw, effectively trapping prey in her mouth. Once she bites down, there’s no easy escape.

She also has a forked tongue, which gives her heightened sensitivity to taste and scent, allowing her to track even the faintest traces of blood or fear in the air.

Her eyes are usually red, functioning like infrared sensors that allow her to see heat signatures. This makes her an excellent tracker, especially in the dark, where she can pinpoint someone’s exact location by their body heat alone.

She works at a blood bank, which gives her regular access to a food supply. She’s clever about it too—carefully rationing, labeling, and storing her stash to avoid suspicion. No need to hunt when dinner’s already bagged and chilled.

Sunlight doesn’t kill her, but it does weaken her overall power. Her reflexes slow, her strength dips, and her senses dull a bit. That’s why she tends to avoid being out too long during the day unless absolutely necessary.

She sleeps and lives in an abandoned bell tower, one that bats naturally roost in. It’s cold, high up, and far away from the chaos of city life—perfect for someone like her. The Batfam knows where it is, of course. They've never visited.

[lizzyiii]

His Lady Love

pairing | young aemond x vampire!reader

word count | 4.1k words

summary | aemond becomes obsessed with his mother's newest lady-in-waiting. he seeks her comfort after aegon takes him to the brothel.

tags | AFAB reader, older woman/younger man (more like older girl/younger boy), delusional aemond, angst/comfort, aemond pov.

note | my first time posting, also I really wanted to see what it would be like with a vampire in hotd, PART 2 coming soon.

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

He was ten and two when Aemond Targaryen first laid eyes upon your bewitching figure. At first, he was convinced it was a mere trick of his own mind, a mere mirage conjured forth by imagination and longing.

Clad in a resplendent gown of deep wine red, you appeared nothing short of ethereal, your skin seeming to glow beneath the vibrant hue of her attire. Your hair, intricately braided into an elaborate updo, lent an air of regal sophistication to your youthful appearance. It was no wonder that you had swiftly ascended to the ranks of his mother's most esteemed ladies in waiting.

Despite his tender age, Aemond was keenly aware of the profound allure that you exuded. You could not have been more than eight and ten, and yet you possessed a rare and ineffable grace that captured his young heart with an instantaneous and profound intensity.

In that fleeting moment of their initial encounter, he became resolutely certain that, when he came of age, you would be the one he would take as his wife.

He despised them. The sheer sight of Aegon and his nephews filled Aemond with deep-seated resentment. It was a reminder of the injustice he felt deep in his bones. Aegon and those bastards, useless and undeserving, had been gifted with dragons, while Aemond, a true warrior, was left without one. As if to add insult to injury, they had gifted him a lowly pig, a cruel mockery of his situation.

Consumed by anger and grief, Aemond could not contain his rage any longer. He stormed into the Dragon Pit, the heat and fury of the dragons surrounding him. In the chaos, he narrowly escaped being burnt alive, only to find himself scolded by his mother.

And then he was seeking solace in her arms. Rare as it was for her to offer comfort, Aemond clung to her, desperate for any shred of comfort in the face of his overwhelming emotions.

Before their moment could fully settle, a soft, melodic voice filled the room. "Your Grace - Oh, I apologize for interrupting," your voice wafted into the chamber, causing Aemond to hastily pull away from his mother, his back turned as he hastily wiped away the traces of dirt and tears from his face.

Aemond straightened his posture and steadied his breath, turning to find you standing in the doorway, your eyes filled with genuine concern and compassion. He felt a pang of embarrassment as he realized he had been caught in such a vulnerable moment.

"It's alright, My Lady," his mother, Alicent, reassured you as you approached them. Aemond couldn't help but notice the weariness in his mother's expression. Did comforting her son take such a toll on her?

Alicent gave Aemond a brief, tightening look before turning to her lady-in-waiting. "Perhaps you could see my son back to his chambers," she suggested, her tone laced with a hint of exasperation.

It was clear that his mother was eager to pass him off to her lady in waiting, but Aemond couldn't bring himself to feel too upset. Since his lady love happened to be the one assigned to escort him, he had no complaints. Despite their six-year age difference, Aemond was confident that once he reached his maturity, their age gap would no longer matter.

"Of course, Your Grace," you said with a respectful bow of your head. Your gaze slowly shifted to the prince, and he nodded as he made his way out the door, with you following close behind.

"You're wondering about my appearance," Aemond murmured softly, his focus fixed straight ahead as the two of you strolled through the corridors of the Red Keep.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips, and Aemond savored the sound, filled with pride knowing he had elicited it. "Tis not my place to ask questions, My Prince," your warm voice filled his ears, "But judging by the ash and dirt on your fair skin, I would venture that you were likely at the dragon pit."

"It's unfair," Aemond grumbled indignantly, feeling an unjust injustice in the situation. Immediately, he wished he could take back his words, realizing that he had unintentionally come across as childish when he was supposed to be displaying to you his maturity and wisdom.

"The world can be cruel and unjust, My Prince," you replied with a saccharine sweetness in your voice, "But that is why it is imperative for you to assert your authority and take command of your destiny."

Aemond angled his head to catch a glimpse of your elegant profile, admiring not just your physical beauty but also the astuteness of your words. "And how can I accomplish that?" he inquired.

You turned to meet his gaze, your eyes locking and causing his heart to skip a beat. You bestowed him with a subtle yet meaningful smile before you said, "By refusing to accept a life you do not deserve."

"And what of you," Aemond inquired, "What do you believe you deserve, My Lady?" If you were to marry him, you would lack nothing; he was prepared to grant you any request you might make.

"It’s difficult to say," you murmured, tilting your head thoughtfully. Even that Aemond found endearing, "Some individuals believe they are worthy of the entire world, whereas I value simplicity."

Aemond raised an inquisitive silver brow, "Simplicity?"

"Stability and security. A serene life," you explained. Then you glanced down and offered him a warm smile, "Perhaps we can continue our discussion another time, your grace."

Aemond was scarred. Left disfigured and crippled, condemned to a life of one-eyed hardship due to the foolish actions of his bastard nephew. He had once thought it a fair exchange, an eye for a dragon, but now, lying in his chamber chambers, sedated by the potent poppy milk, he questioned his own judgement.

Aemond frowned as he noticed they had reached the doors to his chambers. Before he could utter another word, you nodded courteously and departed. He was determined to offer you a serene life. As his wife, he would spare no effort in providing for you. And in turn you would be his serenity.

As he lay there, disabled and near death, he longed for your presence. Perhaps that was why he willingly surrendered to the effects of the poppy milk, for it allowed him to see you in his dreams. He took solace in slumber, for it was there that he could find you, if only in his mind.

But despite his yearning to see you in waking life, a part of him hesitated. He did not want you to witness the repulsive scar that marred his once-perfect face, especially the swollen and oozing scar where his left eye once was.

The pain from his injuries radiated through his body, a burning fire within him that consumed all other emotions. Aemond's thoughts turned to vengeance, as he vowed to take back what was stolen from him. His mind was set on becoming the best warrior in the Seven Kingdoms, one to surpass even his uncle, Daemon Targaryen, and he would not rest until he had retribution.

He would not accept a life he did not deserve, as his lady love had told him. With the biggest dragon in the world by his side, Aemond was determined to become even better than his past self. And then, you would be his. His lady love would be his wife, and together, you and him would rule with fire and blood.

He longed to shed his skin. The scorching heat in the chamber had become unbearable. The wine she had offered him churned in his gut, causing him to fight the urge to expel it.

Following the feast of Aemond's thirteenth nameday, Aegon had hinted at a surprise for him. Little did Aemond know that his elder brother would lead him into the depths of a pleasure house. Without a chance to protest, Aegon vanished into a sea of bodies and silks.

Next, Aemond found himself ensconced in a chamber bathed in the soft glow of flickering candles. Obscene tapestries adorned the walls, depicting the most intimate of acts between man and woman. And then, a woman entered. She was of an age exceeding even that of his own mother.

She cooed at him, showering him with soft words and adulation. Soon, she was touching him, disrobing him. Aemond wanted to protest, to scream for her to stop, but his vocal cords betrayed him. His body quivered as she caressed him, whispering into his ear.

Once it was over, Aemond was left in a daze. His body no longer felt like his own. Swiftly, he scrambled to dress himself, fleeing the brothel in a disheveled state, He didn't care where Aegon was, all he could think about was reaching you.

His heart pounded in his chest as he raced through the secret passageways of Maegor's Holdfast, his lungs burning with each desperate breath and tears falling down his pale cheeks. He bypassed his own chambers and his mother's, instead making a beeline for the guest wing where he had roamed many times in an attempt to get a glimpse of you.

Finally, he reached her door and pounded on it frantically, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he struggled to compose himself. He had to see you. He needed you.

As the door creaked open, his eye widened with the realization that you and him had not spoken since he had lost his eye, and he had carelessly left his eye patch behind in the brothel. He feared that you would see his disfigurement. Before he could flee, however, the door swung open.

You stood before him, ethereal and captivating. Your locks cascaded down, some strands delicately tucked behind your ears. Cloaked in a deep crimson silk robe, which accentuated your graceful form.

Though your initial expression seemed perturbed by the intrusion, it quickly softened as your gaze fell upon Aemond. Your eyes wandered over his disheveled appearance and his one glassy eye, and a wave of concern washed over your features.

And without a second thought, he threw himself into your soft body, wrapping his arms around your waist as he laid his head against your stomach. Almost instantly his tears returned and after a moment, your arms came around him hesitantly, offering him your comfort.

Gently, you extracted yourself from his arms and offered your hand to him and without hesitation, he took it. Your skin was soft, yet cold, providing relief to his overheated body. You led him into your chambers which was simple and minimalistic, but all Aemond could focus on was the coolness of your touch.

Guiding him to the chaise in your chamber, you gently urged him to take a seat. As you walked away, Aemond mourned the loss of your touch, but you soon returned with a goblet in hand, offering it to him.

With a hint of wariness, Aemond took a tentative sip, finding the water refreshing. He greedily drank, while your worried eyes remained fixed on him.

As he finished the water, you placed a hand on his wrist, your concern evident in your touch. "You must tell me what happened, my prince," you urged, your voice soft but determined.

Aemond’s gaze turned away, a tempest brewing in his heart. “Shall I summon your mother, then?” you suggested, your tone a mere whisper laced with concern.

At the mention of his mother, Aemond’s eye snapped back to yours, desperation flickering in his gaze. “No. No, please don’t do that,” he pleaded, his voice a hushed urgency.

Swallowing hard, Aemond felt the weight of his brother's casual cruelty descend upon him. “Aegon,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, “he said it was a surprise. A rite of passage, he called it. He told me it was time to… get it wet.” He faltered, the memory crashing over him like waves against a rocky shore. Closing his eye, he inhaled sharply as his pulse quickened, “I can still feel it. Her hands were everywhere, warm and suffocating. I didn’t know how to make it stop... so I just waited until it was done.” Pain and confusion tangled in his chest, threatening to spill over.

He felt your gentle touch then, your hand gliding from his wrist to envelop his own in a tender squeeze. “Oh,” you murmured softly, your voice a balm against the chaos within him

But as you slowly withdrew your hand, a wave of panic surged through Aemond, tightening his grip on yours. “No…” he breathed, desperation creeping into his tone. You hushed him gently, your grip reassuring as you leaned closer. “Calm yourself, my prince. I intend to run you a warm bath, to cleanse you of the filth from that place.”

He nodded, though a nervous knot twisted in his stomach, and watched as you glided away into the adjoining bathing chamber. As Aemond took in the chamber surrounding him, he noted its unadorned simplicity. No treasures adorned the walls, no personal tokens to lend a semblance of warmth or familiarity. Yet, a heavy goblet rested on the table before him, catching his eye. The reddish liquid within gleamed like blood in the dim light, causing a shiver to race down his spine. He forced his gaze away, willing himself to ignore the unsettling thought as he waited for your return.

Moments later, you reemerged, the soft fabric of your robe trailing behind you. “Your bath is ready, my prince,” you said gently, cradling in your arms a neatly folded bundle of his clean clothing.

“How did you retrieve my clothes so swiftly?” Aemond asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

You averted your eyes, but he caught the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Your chambers lie but a breath away from mine."

But his chambers were on the other side of the castle?

Aemond's heart raced, not out of insecurity concerning his form — for he considered himself a Targaryen, and his lineage was his strength. Yet, the hole of his left eye gnawed at his pride. You met his gaze with an equal measure of courage, undeterred by the scar that marred what once was a handsome countenance. It was still the body of a boy, and though he was thirteen, he could not shake the flicker of embarrassment that flared in his chest.

Stealing a furtive glance towards you, Aemond found comfort in the fact that your eyes were cast downward, filled with allocation rather than scrutiny. With a swift motion, he shed the last vestiges of his clothing, and with that, slipped into the warmth of the steaming bath. As the water enveloped him, a sense of relief washed over him, mingled with surprise. The oils that swirled within the bath carried your fragrance, soothing and familiar, reminiscent of sunlit fields and the gentle sway of blossoms in the breeze.

"Shall I fetch a maid, my prince?" You asked, your voice soft and gentle. Your eyes finally settled upon him, he could detect an undercurrent of genuine concern.

"No," he replied curtly, his tone sharper than intended, the remnants of his pride still gnawing at him.

Aemond could hear you hum softly as you came to kneel by the edge of the bath, your fingers trailing in the water as you offered him a placating smile, radiating warmth that contrasted sharply with the chill of the world outside. Aemond’s gaze remained fixed on you as you began to scrub away the remnants of what had happened just before.

“Does it still hurt?” you asked softly, your eyes momentarily flitting from his face to the scar that bisected it before you continued your ministrations, your cloth gently gliding over his skin as if to erase the memories of that night.

“Stings sometimes,” Aemond replied, a shadow of shame dancing across his features.

You nodded, your hands deftly working to cleanse his face, but your gaze lingered on his empty eye socket—an echo of loss and pain that pierced deeper than any physical wound.

He cast his gaze downward, feeling the familiar pang of discomfort rise. “It’s… ugly,” he muttered, barely above a whisper.

With an unexpected tenderness, you cupped his face in her hands, guiding him back to meet your gaze. “No, my prince,” you countered softly. “Not ugly. Merely different, a testament to your strength. You might even adorn it, you know.”

Adorn it? Aemond raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued despite the prickling pride that flared. “With what?” he asked, fixing his single violet eye upon you, momentarily captivated.

A gentle smile danced on your lips, a flash of mischief flickering in your expression, illuminating your features in the dim light. “Why not place a jewel in it, perhaps? What’s your favorite jewel?”

He shrugged, a habitual defense against showing too much of himself. “I don’t know,” he replied, his voice low.

The question hung in the air as you added, “Mine are sapphires."

Aemond’s thoughts drifted momentarily, recalling the dresses you had worn, swirling fabrics in hues that bespoke your grace. A pang struck him; “I’ve never seen you in blue.”

You shook your head dismissively, your eyes averted, as you responded, “It does not suit me, my prince."

“Impossible,” he mumbled, the word escaping in a barely audible whisper. He found it hard to believe you could not wear something so exquisite and innocent as blue, just as he found it hard to believe himself worthy of your affection. You were a jewel in your own right, far surpassing the treasures of the crown and the markets.

Once Aemond was freshly scrubbed clean and clad in his simple garments, the flickering torchlight cast shadows upon the stone walls of the Red Keep. You regarded him with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "Are you ready to retire to your chambers now, my prince?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Aemond's heart sank at the thought of leaving your presence. The heavy weight of what had occurred a few hours ago felt more burdensome than ever. He cleared his throat, struggling to imbue his tone with the command expected of a Targaryen, "I wish to stay here."

Your brow furrowed slightly, and he could see the hesitation in your eyes, but you nodded nonetheless, leading him back toward your bed where you made to arrange the bedding around him. His lone eye followed your every movement, drawn to the curves of your form and the gentle way you tended to him. As you turned to leave, Aemond’s instincts took hold. With a swift motion, he grasped your wrist, his grip tighter than he intended. "Stay with me."

Your expression shifted to a sternness reminiscent of his mother, a reminder of the propriety and decorum that governed your lives. "That would be most inappropriate." Your tone was firm.

"Please," he murmured, his voice dropping to a near pleading softness.

With a heavy sigh that betrayed your weariness, you succumbed to his request, moving to the far side of your bed and, to his joy, sliding beneath the sheets. Aemond felt a rush of daring coursing through him like wildfire; he subtly shifted closer, resting his head on your chest. For a brief moment, he feared rejection, his thoughts racing to the taunts of his nephews and the ache of the void left by his lost eye. But then, as if sensing his need for solace, your arms enveloped him, warmth flooding through the cold shadows of the brothel.

In that cocoon of stolen intimacy, Aemond found refuge. The bitter weight of Aegon’s taunts, the pain of his injury, and the disquiet of the brothel faded away like whispers in the wind. He was no longer Aemond, the one-eyed prince; he was simply a man seeking comfort from the woman he loved.

Weeks after, Aemond strode into his chambers with the weight of the day's demands heavy upon him, only to halt in his tracks at the sight of a delicate gift-wrapped parcel resting atop his oaken table. Unease prickled at the edges of his mind as he approached, an unfamiliar crested insignia embossed on the fine paper hinting at its sender. With practiced grace, he unwrapped the offering, and there within gleamed a sapphire so vivid it whispered of the sea’s depths, glinting alluringly in the candlelight.

A smile unbidden flickered across his features, for he knew—knew it was from you. A token of your affection, bright as the glory of House Targaryen itself. It swelled his heart, igniting a warmth that had grown chill. He could envision your soft gaze as you selected the gem, the way your laughter danced through the air like the sweetest song.

Determined to express his gratitude, he spent the day scouring the halls of the Red Keep, threading his way through the throngs of courtiers and servants, all the while searching for your familiar figure. But fate, it seemed, had conspired against him. The hours slipped by like sand through his fingers, and as the sun dipped beneath the horizon, casting long shadows throughout the stone halls, bitterness sank into his bones.

After the evening meal, his resolve led him to seek his mother. With a furrowed brow, he pushed the door ajar and entered, expecting to find answers from her. But the sight that greeted him was far from comforting. Alicent sat hunched over a letter, the wax seal shattered beside her, her expression dark and heavy with unspoken words that lingered in the air like the scent of damp earth before a storm.

“Aemond?” she murmured, as if startled from a reverie, her voice a mere whisper, laden with melancholy.

He watched her for a moment, his previous thrill of joy eclipsed by her obvious distress. “What troubles you, Mother?” he ventured, stepping closer.

Alicent lifted her head, her expression a fragile mask that crumbled the moment she met his gaze. A semblance of a smile teased her lips, but the sorrow beneath was palpable. “All is well, my son,” she lied.

He knew the bond his mother shared with you, the girl who had nestled herself in the depths of his mother’s affection, unlike the numerous ladies-in-waiting who flitted about like storm-dodging sparrows. To Alicent, you were not merely a servant but a girl she cherished as if you were her own blood.

But Aemond’s sharp eye caught the glimmer of distress that lingered in her tone. He advanced further into the room, his gaze honing in on the parchment that lay forgotten in her delicate grasp. “What is it?” he pressed, his heart beginning to thrum in his chest, sensing the foreboding weight of something unsaid.

Alicent's voice was tinged with sorrow, a shade that unsettled Aemond's heart as she whispered the name of his beloved, “It is from her.” The chill of her words struck him like winter's breath. “She has decided to leave the Keep."

In that moment, it felt as though the very foundations of King's Landing trembled, the walls echoing his anguish. Aemond's heart tightened painfully, a dragon's fang sinking into his chest, yet Alicent remained blissfully unaware of her son’s turmoil as she set the letter down upon the polished mahogany table before turning away, her silhouette retreating into the shadows of her room.

Stinging tears threatened to spill from the corners of his eye. You could not have forsaken him; you would never abandon the bond the two of you shared, so why had you departed? Aemond seized the letter, his hand shaking with urgency, his eye darting across the elegant script. You had spoken of a deep homesickness, a yearning to reconnect with your family. You graciously thanked his mother for her kindness during your stay.

Yet, amidst your carefully penned words lay an abyss of uncertainty. No mention of where you had gone, nor any promise of when—or if—you would return. Only your name, signed with elegant flourish and the seal of your house—a sigil that felt as foreign to Aemond as a stranger’s face.

— Mikaelson

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

Hi! Hope this is ok and got a nsfw idea

What if werewolf steve x vampire reader x vampire bucky

Y/n was all alone ending up entering their turf. They dont wanna end her noo . They wanna keep her as their mate

a/n: you sent this yumminess to me last night literally minutes before i fell asleep, then i couldn't stop thinking about it so i wrote it while eating breakfast lol

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

“Oh, honey…” you heard Bucky purr as he teasingly let his fangs graze across your neck, “I’m older and thereby stronger than you,” his cock throbbed against your bottom as he kept his hold tight, holding your wiggling frame up far above the ground, your back against his chest and keeping you in place for the lycanthrope before you, “so you might as well just stop struggling.”

Slick symphonies accompanied Steve’s movements as he attempted to stuff the big knot at the base of his already intimidating length inside your cunt. Each thrust of his hips gradually grew harsher as he tried needlessly to plug it inside, though still without success, your pussy only drooling from his ruthless efforts though still not able to let that part of him into your warmth. 

“Or not,” Steve then smirked as he lowered his fingers to smear more of your messy cream against his bulbous base he so fiercely desired to feel inside of you, “I think it’s kinda fun watching you try.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[looseyjuicy]

“You’re married?!” Is the hot topic of the room as everyone shows varying expressions of despair, panic, incredulousness and encouragement.

thanks, Lyds.

“E’yup!” He elongates the first syllable as he flips open a wallet that seemingly appears out of thin air, unraveling a couple feet worth of pictures. “A real keeper, if I do say so myself.”

They’re all taken at different locations with multiple poses, some risqué enough that prompts Barbara into shielding Lydia’s eyes with a scowl directed at the giddy demon.

outside of a few random ghouls, there’s only two repeating subjects. Beetlejuice, in all his disgusting, decomposed glory.

and You.

an undead man’s dream all wrapped up in various outfits that do well to accentuate your assets. upon further inspection, you don’t seem to be in any distress or making any attempts to flee.

In fact, minus the ones where you’re.. unfocused, you’re grinning from ear to ear with an arm wrapped around your ‘husband’s’ shoulders. among those are a few of you in a wedding dress and him in some ratty tux in what seems to be a Las Vegas style wedding chapel; there’s even an Elvis officiating.

it would seem that, for once, he wasn’t lying. the ghost with the most actually did get married. however, one small detail still has the Maitlands unconvinced.

“But you’re still.. you?” Adam motions to his entire form; still not alive and with even more moss that seemed to have grown on him.

Beetlejuice snickers, as if it were an inside joke only he was in on, “it wasn’t the most ‘holiest’ of unions, if you catch my drift.”

Barbara gives him a grossed-out look, mumbling a ‘really wish we didn’t.’ under her breath.

“Where’s the missus?” Lydia pipes up after prying off the cold hands still covering her face.

“Gettin’ a snack. Said she was feelin’ a bit peckish.”

the teen looks at him questionably, “we probably could’ve given her something here.”

“‘preciate the warm hospitality, kid,” he ruffles her already messy hair, earning him a smack on the hand as she tries to bat him away, “but trust me, you would not want her to eat something here.”

“What does that mean?” Barbara questions him, already sensing a trick about to unfold.

Beetlejuice just grins, answering with a simple, “she has a slight aversion to food.”

all this does is confuse the couple even more. deciding that the demon was an unreliable source, they take a closer look at the pictures to get any sort of hint.

which comes alarmingly fast when they narrow in on one with your widest smile.

a pair of sharp, pearly white fangs somehow glimmers right back at them.

[nottsangel]

Sorry but that repost about Mattheo got me UNHINGED 😞🙏🏻 especially the pics where he’s bloody

I need to cut on his abs with a knife and suck his cock with the blood on it UGHHHHH Imagine vampire!reader doing it adqkshisjsevsj I can’t please I need him so so bad

🪬

tw knifeplay. bloodplay. vampire!reader

your hand tightly grips the handle of the shiny knife, your knuckles turning white. you’re not sure if it’s because you’re nervous about hurting him, or if it’s to compose yourself against your overwhelming bloodlust.

slowly and inevitably, you feel yourself losing every ounce of self control as mattheo stands before you, naked, with his hard cock out, his abs flexed, and a sly grin playing on his handsome face.

“go on then.” he murmurs, relishing the frantic glint in your eyes while you kneel in front of him. your lip curls, exposing the sharp edge of your fangs as you drag the blade slowly across his muscular stomach. gently at first, but the moment the first drop of blood oozes out of the shallow cut, the sweet scent hits you like a drug, and you’re quickly craving more, pressing the knife deeper into his soft skin.

“so… beautiful…” you murmur, mesmerised, eyes wide and locked onto the droplets of blood trailing down his torso, sliding over the curve of his erection. mattheo hisses at the sharp sting, yet it only seems to turn him on more, the tip glistening with slick precum. his hazy eyes hungrily stare down at you as he feels slightly lightheaded from the blood loss, only intensifying his arousal.

“ah, ah, ah— not yet.” mattheo says with a smirk, quickly stopping you just as you eagerly lean in to lick his bloody abs. “let it drip down more. i want it fully soaked.” your eyes darken, your hand gripping his thigh so tightly your nails nearly draw blood from his skin even more. then, finally he gives you a single nod.

without hesitation, you wrap your mouth around his blood-slicked erection, taking him deeper and deeper until your lips touch his stomach and the head of his cock brushes the back of your throat. curse words uncontrollably fall from mattheo’s lips and his hands fist in your hair, hips bucking into your mouth.

“that’s it, baby. just like that.” mattheo groans, throwing his head back and closing his eyes as you feel his thick cock twitch in your mouth. the crimson drops of blood still trickling down from the fresh wounds, combined with the taste of it filling your mouth, completely overwhelm you— the intoxicating scent and metallic flavor making your head spin.

before you can stop yourself, your fangs involuntarily press into the tender skin of his cock, making him wince at the sudden sensation. you pull back immediately, brows furrowed in guilt as you gaze up at him, worried. but mattheo isn’t angry. he isn’t even fazed. instead, there’s a dark look of arousal written all over his face.

“fuck. sorry, matt. i couldn’t help myself…” “you should’ve kept going, princess. i’m not a pussy, you know.” “well—” “oh, shut up.”

ੈ♡˳

[kitkatkitzune]

THE DARKNESS

Pairing(s): Kol Mikaelson x Salvatore!reader, Platonic!Mikaelsons x Salvatore!reader, Platonic!Salvatores x Sister!reader

Summary: The real reason you return to Mystic Falls is revealed to your brothers.

Warnings: Emotional Neglect? (on the Salvatore brothers side), Betrayal (duh), Blood, ANGST, Violence, Klaus getting dagger happy, Klaus being incredibly cruel and deranged (normal Klaus behavior), Reader is traumatized (because of Klaus), Reader isn’t really a good person, A lot of neck snapping, Katherine Pierce, Inaccurate historical depictions, Switches between past and present, Some timeline errors and changes, Uses of Y/N, Kol not showing up til like 2k words in, Inconsistencies in the tense it’s written in (what a shock.)

Notes: THIS WAS ORIGINALLY TITLED ‘THE ART OF BETRAYAL’ BEFORE I DECIDED ‘THE DARKNESS’ FIT BETTER!

Reader is ten, turning eleven when she meets Katherine. She isn’t turned into a vampire until she’s 19.

Pizzelles are an Italian cookie. (Yes, this is random. Yes, this is kind of important.)

Canonically Kol was daggered in 1821 because of his lovely iteration of Hamlet, he wasn’t undaggered until 1901. In this, we’ll say he was still daggered in 1821 but was undaggered some time before 1870. Again with the dagger stuff, Rebekah is canonically daggered until 1887 after all the Marcel thing, in this she was undaggered some time before 1870.

And finally, a big thank you to @wholoveseggs for all her support and encouragement while I’ve been writing this because without her, I probably wouldn’t have finished this!

Word Count: 16.3k (goodness gracious)

———————

Present Day

Mystic Falls

It had been one hundred and forty-six years since you had seen your brothers. Actually, it had been one hundred and forty-six years since they had seen you. You kept tabs on them over the years, always so close but not close enough for them to find you. As far as your brothers were concerned, you were dead and technically you were.

In truth, you didn’t want to see them but you had to. You had to for him.

So here you were, driving past the Mystic Falls welcome sign. Your jaw clenches at the sight of it, you hadn’t been here since 1864. Every fiber of your being was screaming at you to turn around, that you didn’t want to be back here, that it was going to hurt you. You shoved the feeling away and continued driving until you reached your destination.

The old Salvatore Boarding House, your old home.

You take a deep breath before walking up to the door. It’s wide open and you can hear Stefan and Damon arguing inside. Your best guess is Stefan tried to walk away from Damon by slamming the door on him and all it did was make Damon angrier and he flung it open.

You followed the yelling to the living room, they were so caught up in their argument that they hadn’t noticed you leaning on the door frame.

“I see you two still fight like cats and dogs… I’m sure this is about some silly girl,” you finally speak up, announcing your presence.

They both immediately stop and look at you.

“Who the hell are you?” Damon asks instantaneously and you couldn’t blame him, the last time he saw you, you were just a kid.

You pout, placing a hand over your heart, “that hurts Damon.”

Letting out a dramatic sigh you place your hands on your hips, “I guess that’s fair though… I mean, it has been a really long time, one hundred and forty-six years in fact and I was just a little kid then.”

“I was about this tall…” you gesture with your hand then gasp, bringing your hand to your mouth, “And the last time we spoke was in this house, in this room!”

Stefan’s eyes widened a bit, his face becoming one of shock and realization, “Y/N?” he whispers.

You smirk and Damon scoffs, “That's not possible, our sister is dead.”

“Well, you’re not wrong about that, though, I believe the proper term is undead—“

You’re cut off by Damon rushing at you, slamming you into the wall, and holding you up by your throat.

“Damon.” Stefan warns.

“This isn’t Y/N, Stefan! It can’t be! This is some sick imposter! I don’t know how they found out… but Y/N… she’s been dead for over a hundred years!”

You knee him in the stomach, causing him to double over and drop you, “Undead.”

Damon grunts, stumbling back but he quickly recovers, “Okay, let’s say you are our sister… Why now, huh?! Why find us now, after a hundred some years?!” he shouts.

You scoff, standing up straight, “Because I saw you both die! I saw father shoot you both dead! You remember that night right? The night you both tried to save Katherine? The night you were turned?”

You paused for a moment, directing your next words to Damon, “The night you told me I wasn’t your sister anymore.”

You knew being back here would be hard, you knew it would hurt. What you didn’t expect was for Damon to seemingly forget everything that happened in 1864. He looked away from you causing you to scoff.

“That woman ruined our family the moment she stepped foot in Mystic Falls.”

1864

Mystic Falls

You stood next to Stefan, rocking back and forth on your heels as you watched the carriage approach.

Your father had told you that a woman was coming to stay with you all, a woman named Katherine Pierce. You were excited for her arrival, you loved Stefan, Damon, and occasionally your father but you were ecstatic to have another girl around.

The carriage opened and two women got out, you followed Stefan down the stairs, standing right next to him.

“You must be Miss Pierce,” your brother says with his hands still behind his back.

Miss Pierce smirks, “Please,” she reaches her hand out for him to take, which he does, “Call me Katherine.”

They stare at each other for a moment, seemingly having a silent conversation before you interrupt, “Hello!”

Katherine seems taken aback by the sudden voice but puts on a smile, “And who might you be?”

“Y/N!”

Stefan chuckles and places his hand onto your shoulder, “This is my little sister, father jokes that she’s my shadow,” your brother teases, “She’d be following Damon around as well but he’s off at war.”

You frown at the mention of your other brother, not noticing the way Katherine’s gaze hardens.

Katherine would grow close with Stefan over the next weeks and unfortunately for you, she made it abundantly clear that she didn’t like you. You couldn’t figure out why but Stefan continually reassured you that Katherine had no problems with you so you tried to let it go.

Then after some time, Damon returned home and you were overjoyed. You had always been close with your brothers, they were practically your only friends. You had been lonely since Katherine had arrived due to Stefan’s infatuation, you hoped now that Damon was back you wouldn’t be so lonely.

“Damon!” you cheered upon seeing him, “Day! You’re back!”

He chuckles, “That I am!”

You rush to hug him which he quickly reciprocates, patting your head. But his gaze focused elsewhere.

“Who is she?” he points.

You turn to see who he’s looking at and sigh, “That is Miss Katherine Pierce, she’s been staying with us for some time now.”

You beckon Damon to lean down so you could whisper in his ear, “I think Stefan may be in love with her.”

Your eldest brother raises a brow and stands up straight, “Hm? Well… I suppose I should introduce myself to our guest…”

Just like that, Damon was infatuated as well. It was as if Katherine was a siren and both your brothers had been tricked by her song.

You watched Katherine as she led on both your brothers, knowing that at least one of them would be getting a broken heart. Though, you had a feeling they’d both end up heartbroken.

The one event that really broke you was when both your brothers were nowhere to be seen on your birthday, and when you did find them it was like they had no idea what the day was.

You hated Katherine, but you weren’t scared of her. Until you saw her true face.

You knew what she was, a vampire. Your father had told you stories about vampires, they’re evil monsters. He told you if you ever even heard whispers of a vampire that you had to tell him and he’d take care of it.

So you told him and he came up with a plan that you would enact within the week.

“What is that delicious smell?” Damon asks as he walks into the kitchen.

You let out a little laugh, “I baked cookies! Would you like one?”

“I’d love one,” Damon takes one of the cookies from the tray, patting your head as he did.

The first step of the plan was complete, now all you had to do was sit back and wait.

It wouldn’t take long for Katherine to come back to the boarding house with Stefan, he goes and sits on the couch while Katherine begins to go upstairs. She turns to give Damon a look and he immediately rushes to follow her up the stairs.

Moments later there’s a scream, followed by shouting from your father, Damon, and some men you don’t know. Stefan is off the couch quickly and at the steps immediately.

Multiple men are dragging Katherine down the stairs while Damon yells at your father. Stefan stands in shock as you reach his side. Katherine is taken out of the house by the men and put into a guarded carriage. Your father holds Damon to the wall as the carriage leaves your home, finally, his eyes land on you and he lets go of Damon, rushing to you, he places a kiss on your head.

“You were right, my dear. You did good.”

With that, he rushes out the door to the carriage, leaving you alone with your brothers.

Stefan’s voice is quiet, “You know what she is…”

“And you told father!” Damon shouts.

“She’s a monster Damon!” you yell.

He scoffs, “You don’t know what you’re talking about! You’re ten! A child!”

Your frown, “My birthday was a month ago Damon… I’m eleven… or have you forgotten?”

“It doesn’t matter! How you could be so cruel… I don't understand… I don’t recognize you… you’re no sister of mine. Not anymore.”

“Damon!” Stefan yells.

Damon shakes his head, shoving past you to the door, “Let’s go Stefan! If we’re quick we can save her!”

And just like that, they rush out of the house without sparring you a second glance. They didn’t know it at the time, but moments later you would run out of the house after them.

Present Day

Mystic Falls

“I never went back home… it wouldn’t be home if you were both dead... So I ran and ran and didn’t look back… I travelled all over… never staying in one place for too long.”

Stefan steps forward and pulls you into a tight hug and you allow him too. It had been a century since you had hugged anyone, you almost forgot how to. He pulls away to get a better look at your face, how you’ve grown since he last saw you.

“How old are you? Physically?”

“It’s rude to ask a woman’s age, Stef…” you giggle before giving an actual answer, “Nineteen, I was turned in 1872… which I guess makes me your big sister.”

He chuckles, “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

Damon crosses his arms, “How’d you turn?”

“Willingly, if that’s what you’re asking… my boyfriend at the time turned me, we wanted to spend forever together.”

“Ironic, sounds a lot like my story with Katherine.”

You furrow your brows, “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying, you’re a hypocrite.”

You scoff and Damon takes that as his signal to continue, “Where is this boyfriend of yours now?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, “He’s gone.”

“Gone?”

“Dead.” you lie.

“I’m sorry Y/N,” Stefan smiles softly, placing a hand on your shoulder.

Suddenly, the floorboards creak causing all of you to look at the sound. There she stood, Elena Gilbert.

“Oh… I’m sorry I didn’t realize you had company…” She clears her throat, “Uh… Stefan, you called me?”

Thinking quickly, you speed away from Stefan and slam the girl into the wall. You weren’t dumb, you knew who she was and you knew she wasn’t Katherine but your brothers didn’t know that you knew. Everything would be fine as long as you didn’t kill her, he wouldn’t mind if she was roughed up a bit.

“You keep the bitch around?! After everything?!”

Stefan and Damon sped to your side, Damon ripping you away from her.

You scoff, “You still protect her!”

“This isn’t Katherine,” Stefan says before pulling Elena to him, the girl holding her throat.

“Looks exactly like her!”

Damon rolls his eyes, pulling you farther away, “We know. We have eyes. It’s weird, some weird, freaky nature thing but she’s not Katherine. Smell her, she’s human.”

You turn your attention to Stefan and Elena who are both looking at you, waiting for your next move. Stefan is ready to jump in front of Elena to save her, you almost roll your eyes but resist, this would be like 1864 all over again.

You walk over to them, slowly, tilting your head at Elena.

“I’m Elena…Elena Gilbert.”

You give her a half smile, “Y/N. Sorry.”

You hold out your hand for her to take, which she does after looking at Stefan to make sure you were safe.

“This happens a lot, you’d be surprised…”

“No, I wouldn’t be. Katherine’s a bitch. A lot of people want her dead,” you pause, “Consider getting a tattoo on your forehead,” you brush your pointer finger and thumb across your forehead, “‘Not Katherine’.”

Elena giggles, “In size forty font.”

You crack a smile, she seemed sweet, you almost felt bad about what was going to happen, almost.

“You’re a friend of Stefan and Damon’s?”

“I’m their sister,” you smirk, chuckling at the shocked expression on her face.

“Our sister who we thought was dead up until about five minutes ago,” Damon adds, still suspicious of you.

“I didn’t know you were alive either until I heard rumors from some vampires that fled from here…” another lie.

Stefan and Damon share a look and you look between them, “What?” You ask.

“The tomb vampires.”

Stefan pats your back, “C’mon, we got a lot of catching up to do.”

“Well, this is lovely but are we going to discuss what we’re here for?” A new voice cuts in, she looks familiar but you can’t quite place her.

Elena on the other hand looks terrified, “You…”

“Like he said, a lot of catching up to do,” the woman smiles.

You all sat down in the living room while the woman who you learned to be Rose began to pace back and forth while speaking, “Okay, you have to understand, I only know what I’ve picked up over the years- and I don’t know what’s true and what’s not. That’s the problem with all this vampire crap but Klaus I know is real.”

You keep your expression neutral, you had been told the story of Katerina Petrova, Katherine Pierce as you knew her and how she escaped her death by Klaus and Elijah both. That’s why this woman was familiar, she had played a role in the escape.

“Who is he?” Elena asks.

Damon speaks up, “He’s one of the originals. He’s a legend,” he widens his eyes for dramatic flair.

”From the first generation of vampires,” Stefan gestures with his glass.

“Like Elijah?”

Rose sighs, dropping her shoulders, “No, Elijah is the Easter Bunny compared to Klaus. He’s a foot soldier, Klaus is the real deal.”

You look down to hide the smile on your face, Elijah? The Easter Bunny? Now that was a funny joke.

“Klaus is known to be the oldest…” Stefan adds and that almost makes you giggle.

“So…” Elena begins, “You're saying the oldest vampire in the history of time is coming after me?”

Well, not the oldest.

“Yes.”

“No.”

Damon sighs, standing up, “No, what they’re saying is, I mean, if what she’s saying is true—“

“Which it is,” Rose cuts in.

“—And you’re not just saying this so we don’t kill you…”

“Which I’m not.”

Damon sighs, “Then… we’re looking at a solid maybe?”

“Look,” Stefan says, going to sit next to Elena, “Elijah’s dead so no one else even knows you exist.”

This makes you look up, unless these idiots found a white oak stake, Elijah was not dead, he was simply resting and he’d be pissed when he got back. You only hoped that he’d stay clear of you, you still held a soft spot for the man and you didn’t want to rat him out, but you would if you had to.

“Not that you know of,” Rose adds.

“That’s not helping…” Damon mutters.

“I’ve never even met anyone who has laid eyes on him, we’re talking centuries of truth mixed with fiction!” Stefan argues, “For all we know he could just be some sort of stupid bedtime story…” he looks at Elena, trying to reassure her that she’s safe.

Rose scoffs, “He’s real and he doesn’t give up. If he wants something, he gets it.” Well ain’t that the truth.

“If you’re not afraid of Klaus then you’re an idiot.” Rose adds. Also true.

“Well, what about you little sister?” Damon asks, gesturing to you, “You ever heard of Klaus?”

“No.” Yes. “I doubt he’s even real.” He’s very real.

“You mentioned you traveled a lot,” Stefan looks at you, “You’ve never heard of the original vampires?”

“Never.”

1870

New Orleans

You had showered off all of the blood, trying to rid yourself of the horrible memory. Why was it that vampires seemed to be everywhere you went? And now you were staying in a house with not one, but four vampires.

Sighing, you get out of the shower and change into the outfit Elijah had provided for you, it was a simple night gown, reaching past your knees. You find your way to the guest room that Elijah had shown you and curl into the bed, unable to sleep. You stay in that position all night, not getting even a wink of rest.

When morning comes, you make your way downstairs to the living room, “Elijah?” you call out softly, knowing that he’d be able to hear even the faintest of whispers.

There’s a whoosh behind you causing you to spin around on your heel, expecting to see Elijah but you don’t. A man stands by the couch, smirking.

”I see my brother has taken to copying me. Bringing home his very own charity case,” the man announces as he drops down on the couch to sit, urging you to sit down as well, you do in fear of upsetting him.

You fidget with your hands out of nervousness and he cracks a smile.

“No need to be scared, love. I’m Klaus…” he holds a hand out for you to take and you do, rather reluctantly.

When you don’t say anything, he continues, “Did my brother say something about me?”

You shake your head, “No, not you.”

“Oh? Not me? Did he say anything about my other siblings, do tell me. I’m just dying to know.”

You look around the room before turning back to him, “He said I should be careful around Kol…”

“Ah, my little brother, yes, he can be quite reckless… and rather… insatiable…”

“Are you talking badly about me to our new guest?” a voice that you assume belongs to Kol fills the room.

Klaus clicks his tongue, holding back a laugh, “No, no, little brother. Simply warning the girl of your tendencies…”

Kol scoffs, before leaning over the back of the couch, his chin practically touching your shoulder as he whispers to you, “Don’t listen to him, darling… or Elijah for that matter.”

You jump a bit and tilt your head away from him, inadvertently giving the vampire easy access to your neck. He chuckles and surprisingly, leans away.

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Kol! Elijah already said you’re to leave her alone!” a blonde girl comes bouncing into the room, pulling Kol further away from you.

In a flash she’s in front of you, holding her hand out for you to take, “I’m Rebekah! It’ll be nice to have another girl around!”

She then looks you up and down, taking in your current outfit, “Now this just won’t do, come now,” she reaches her other hand out for you and when you take it she pulls you off of the couch.

She quickly begins to pull you towards the stairs just as Elijah comes back into the room, he sighs upon seeing you and his sister.

“Do not overwhelm the poor girl, Rebekah.”

“Relax Elijah, I’m only going to get her a change of clothes… and we must do something with this hair!” she twirls a piece of your hair.

And with that, Rebekah practically drags you up to her room.

“Sit.” she guides you to a vanity chair, “You’ve got gorgeous features but this hair… this dress… they are not doing you any favors…”

Your face flushes, “Oh, I haven’t had much money for clothing let alone food… It's been hard to find work and I never really learned how to do my own hair… my brother used to do it for me and he’d allow me to braid his… I just can’t seem to do so when it’s my own head.”

Rebekah smiles softly, “You needn’t worry, I have plenty of options for you!” she rushes to her closet, opening it to reveal a plethora of different dresses.

She holds up a gown with a bit of lace detailing that goes up to the neck, “This will do nicely. Much better than this night gown…” she says as she brushes the sleeve of the dress you currently wore.

She hands you the gown, “Go now,” she points to the bathrooom, “get dressed and I’ll do your hair!”

You do as she says and come back, having her help you tie the back.

“Now, let’s fix this hair.” she pushes you back down into the chair, “Would you like a braid?”

You nod, “That would be lovely…”

Rebekah hums, “You said your brother used to do your hair… Where is he now?”

Your eyes widen a bit before you look down, “Oh, uhm, he’s dead… That’s why I ran from home…”

“You’re a runaway?”

You crack a smile, trying to be as confident as possible, “Was my ratty appearance and lack of cash not enough to give that away?”

Rebekah chuckles, “I suppose… were you always poor?” she asks, nonchalantly.

“Oh Heavens no. My family was very wealthy… the wealthiest family in our town. My father was a landowner.”

“You didn’t think to take any money before running?” She raises a brow.

“I was only eleven at the time and had just witnessed… something awful…” you take a deep breath, you hadn’t ever spoken about this out loud, “I needed to get away.”

Rebekah frowns, dropping your hair, “Elijah said you’re seventeen, you’ve been on your own for six years?”

You nod and Rebekah’s frown deepens, “That’s a long time to be alone… that must have been awful.”

“I’ve managed,” you shrug, “I went back once, a week after I had left when I got second thoughts… I found out that my father had also passed. I came across a newspaper, they believed that someone had killed my father and taken me…”

“He was killed?”

You hum, and Rebekah picks up your hair again.

“Did they ever catch his killer?”

“No… but I have a suspicion it was a vampire.”

“Why would you think that?” she asks as she finishes your braid.

“His head was nearly ripped off.”

A few days later, Klaus found you. Elijah was dealing with other matters so he wasn’t there to monitor his brother's behavior.

You were alone when he found you, in the kitchen. Baking was something that you enjoyed doing at your old home and after running away you hadn’t been able to. Elijah welcomed you to use the kitchen and bake whatever you’d like, saying he wanted to make sure you felt comfortable during your stay.

“Not too broken up about your father being murdered?”

The sudden voice causes you to jump, spilling the cup of sugar you were holding.

“You startled me,” you sigh, beginning to clean up the sugar.

“You’re easy to frighten,” in a second, Klaus is directly next to you, making you yelp, he smirks, “Now answer the question.”

“What?”

“Your father…” he practically circles you, “You think a vampire killed him? You didn’t seem too sad about it.”

“I… it was six years ago… wait, you were listening when I was talking to Rebekah?”

Klaus hums, “Six years is not that long,” he ignores your question, besides, you already knew the answer. “Well, to a vampire at least. I suppose I could buy that if your heart wasn’t racing.”

You let out a breath, “Klaus—“

“Yes yes, I know Elijah has told you to stay clear of me even if you deny it…”

“That’s not—“

“You didn’t like your father!” he exclaims, making your eyes widen, “I’ve figured it out, huh? What was so awful about the man? Do tell.”

You scowl, you knew you shouldn’t mouth off to the vampires but Klaus was testing your patience, “Not that it’s any of your business but, he… he killed my brothers.”

“Brothers? Plural? Interesting, you only mentioned one to Rebekah. You’re lying to us now?”

“I- No! I only mentioned the one that did my hair! I didn’t lie!”

“Withholding the truth then,” he smirks.

You sigh, “Elijah knows everything already, I’ve told him everything. I haven’t lied, both my brothers fell for a vampire- my father got involved…” tears begin to prick the corners of your eyes, “…he ended up killing them both… I assume the vampire- that she got away, that she killed my father… that’s why I’ve been alone.” tears begin to stain your cheeks.

You sniffle, rubbing at your eyes when the door opens. Klaus has a sheepish expression when Elijah enters the room.

“Niklaus,” he practically hisses, “What did you do?”

“Nothing! I simply asked the girl a few questions!”

Elijah narrows his eyes, “I’m sure.”

You went upstairs and stayed there for the rest of the day, trying to avoid everyone. You were deep in thought when Kol’s voice startled you.

“My brother made you cry? He does tend to have that effect on women.”

Kol chuckles, and you turn to see him leaning against the doorframe of the room Elijah has you staying in. Your eyes widen and you turn your back to him, probably not your best move considering he’s a vampire but Elijah had told you to stay away. It was bad enough that you had spoken to him earlier but at least then his siblings were around, now you truly were alone.

“Like I said darling, you needn't be scared.”

“Elijah told me not to speak with you, he wouldn’t have told me that for no reason.”

Kol scoffs, “He’s always so dramatic.”

You don’t respond and Kol sighs, “I’ll go if you want, I simply wanted to make sure Nik didn’t upset you too badly… you’re too pretty to be upset over him.”

You blush, he sounds genuine but you couldn’t trust it. You also didn’t want to upset Elijah, he was the one who was giving you a home after all. He could easily kick you out and back onto the street to fend for yourself.

“I’d just like to be left alone… please.”

You hummed mindlessly in the kitchen, swaying while you baked. It had been three months since the Mikaelsons had allowed you into their home, Elijah promised he would find you your own home soon enough but he had been so busy with other duties.

You didn’t mind, you had grown used to living in their home. Ironically, living in the house of deadly original vampires had been the safest you had ever felt. The Mikaelsons had completely changed your opinion of vampires in just a few, short months. Rebekah had become a close friend of yours, Klaus had stopped his frequent questioning and began to see you as a friend (he never apologized but you knew he felt bad when he gifted you a necklace), and Kol… well… Kol was complicated.

After he had checked on you that day, you became curious about him. Elijah’s warnings only did so much to curb your curiosity. At first you had listened, avoided Kol at all costs but there was just something about him that kept pulling you in.

You would often find your mind wandering back to him. His face, his hair, his eyes, his cheshire-like grin…

Kol was determined to get you to break your walls down, he would find you all the time, whether you were painting like Nik had taught you, braiding your hair like Rebekah, or even just laying in your bed. He would find you and you’d just chat.

You brought up Kol to Elijah once, you wanted to know what was so horrible about him because when he was with you, he was sweet. Elijah wouldn’t give you a clear answer, just reminded you that he was dangerous. You wouldn’t mention how much time you had begun to spend with Kol to Elijah, in fear of making him upset.

But he found out, just like you knew he would.

“Miss Y/N, may I speak with you?” Elijah asks as he enters the kitchen.

You turn to look at him, just having finished the dough for the cookies you were making, “Of course, Elijah.”

“I notice you have become quite close with Kol as of late.”

You gulp, looking down, feeling guilty, Elijah had asked one thing of you and you weren’t even able to do that.

“I’m sorry, I know I—“

Elijah holds up his hand to silence you, “Please.”

You let out a shaky breath and Elijah lowers his hand, “I’ve never seen my little brother care for someone like he cares for you… especially after such a short amount of time. You… you’re good for him. He’s changed… so no more of this sneaking around like children,” he waves his hand to gesture around.

Your face flushes, “Oh we’re not… we’re just… we’re not together…”

Elijah smirks, giving you a knowing look, “I never said anything about a relationship.”

1871

New Orleans

“What are you reading?” Kol asks as he drops onto the couch, sitting next to you.

“Frankenstein,” you hum, not bothering to look up from the book, turning a page.

Kol nods, “I’ve heard of that one…”

You two sit in silence for a moment before Kol sighs dramatically. You close your eyes, composing yourself when Kol sighs again. You mark your page and close the book, finally turning to look at him.

“What Kol?”

He shrugs, “I’m bored.”

“Bored?”

“Very.”

You sigh, “Can I at least finish my chapter before we go off to cause whatever chaos you have planned?”

Kol rolls his eyes, “Fine,” he draws out the word.

Just as you’re about to pick up the book again, Kol drops his head into your lap, laying across the couch.

You tense up immediately, “Kol. What are you doing?”

“Waiting for you to finish your chapter, darling,” he mumbles, “Your thighs are very comfortable.”

You sigh, forcing yourself to relax, it wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy his touch or him being this close, it was that it made you nervous. You were falling for Kol, you knew you were and every touch, no matter how small, made you nervous. Touching was common with Kol, you had a feeling it was how he showed affection.

It didn’t take long for you to finish your chapter, “Kol,” you say quietly but get no response.

Your brows furrow and you look closer at him in your lap, he was breathing evenly, his eyes closed. He was asleep. He looked peaceful, and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he looked innocent and angelic.

You weighed your options, you could wake him up and put distance between the two of you… or you could let him sleep, curled in your lap, while you read another chapter.

You decided on the second option and it definitely had nothing to do with the fact you wanted to keep him so close.

It was calm, everything about the moment was so domestic. You wished you could stay here forever, reading a novel while an original vampire laid asleep on you as you brushed your fingers through his hair.

Unfortunately, no nice thing could last.

The door to the compound flung open, angry footsteps filling the silence.

“Niklaus, wait a moment. Let us think about this.”

“There is nothing to think about!”

Kol tenses in your lap at the loud voices, stirring in his sleep. He sits up, forcing the sleep from his eyes.

Klaus enters the living room, glaring daggers at you. You don’t seem to pick up on his angry gaze, “Did you get it?” you ask excitedly.

You had mentioned a few weeks ago that your mother had a cookbook that contained all of your family's recipes. After she died, the book remained in the study of the boarding house. You were sad, you wanted the book back because you couldn’t remember any of the recipes and Elijah had offered to go get it for you.

You told him not to be ridiculous and that he’d have to travel the whole way to Mystic Falls to get it, he seemed to tense a bit at the name but insisted nonetheless. So you told him about the boarding house and where he would find it, Klaus insisted on accompanying him.

“Yes.” Klaus answers coldly, dropping the book onto the coffee table.

You squeal and lean forward grabbing the book, “Thankyou!” you begin to flip through it, “You have no idea how much this means to me…” you look up, trailing off when you finally notice the look on Klaus’ face.

“We found something else too,” his tone is detached as he tosses a picture onto the coffee table.

You recognized the photo instantly, it had been taken shortly after Katherine arrived in Mystic Falls. It was of you, Stefan, and Katherine. The three of you had smiles on your faces, though, it was obvious Katherine’s was fake.

“Her,” he points to Katherine.

“What?”

“Don't play dumb with me,” Klaus practically growls, “This is the vampire you mentioned?”

You gulp, nodding, “I- yes, that’s Katherine…”

“Katherine?” Elijah muses, “Is that the name she’s using now?”

You didn’t miss the subtle way that Kol slid forward on the couch, or the way he placed his hand on your thigh, attempting to hide you behind his arm, to shield you from Klaus’ fury.

“Where is she?” Klaus keeps his gaze locked onto you.

“I don’t know… I haven’t seen her since I ran from home…”

Kol squeezes your thigh to try and calm you down, to reassure you that he wouldn’t let Klaus hurt you even if he tried. You were grateful for him and Elijah, Klaus was impulsive at times, especially if he thought he was being betrayed.

After a considerable amount of time, Klaus had calmed down. He and Elijah explained the story of Katerina to you, how she had escaped her death, and how Klaus wanted her to be scared before he killed her. How he wanted her to suffer.

Just like last time, Klaus didn’t apologize, the day after you found three books on your nightstand, Pride and Prejudice, Little Women, and Les Miserables.

A few weeks had passed since the Mikaelsons found out about your history with Katherine. And you all went on with life like nothing had happened, Klaus would occasionally ask about Katherine and you would always answer his questions. Katherine was why your brothers were dead. Katherine was the reason you hated vampires. And the Mikaelsons were the reason you didn’t anymore.

“My mother used to make these when I was little… this is actually her recipe- well, my great grandmother's recipe,” you tell Kol as he watches you close the pizzelle iron.

He hums, reaching for one that’s cooling, “In all my life, I’ve never had one of these…”

Your eyes light up, “Oh! I’ve been meaning to ask you this! I know you eat my baked goods… but does human food actually taste good to you?”

Kol tilts his head, “I’ve told you numerous times, darling, you’re an excellent baker…”

“But that’s not what I asked, I wish to know if you enjoy them…”

“Your treats are delectable… as are you,” Kol flirts, leaning closer.

Your face heats up at his comment, “Flattery will get you nowhere, Kol Mikaelson.”

“No?” he raises a brow, his face just inches from yours.

“Well, maybe somewhere…” you whisper, your gaze flickers to his lips.

He smirks, “And where would that be?”

“You tell me…”

The tension between the two of you was thick, it had been for a few months now but nothing had come of it. The two of you danced around each other and your obvious feelings, Rebekah would tease you about it, often remarking on how you could do better than her brother.

Just as his lips were about to brush against yours he pulled back, “Darling…”

“Yes, Kol?”

“The iron.”

Your eyes widen and you quickly turn back to the pizzelle iron, standing up from your chair, opening it quickly, coughing a bit as the smoke hits you directly in the face. You use the tongs to toss the burnt cookies onto the cooling rack as Kol doubles over in laughter.

You glare at him, before letting out a small laugh, “You distracted me! This is your fault!”

He smirks, standing up to his full height, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you close, “I’m a distraction?”

“Yes… you are.”

He presses a kiss to your temple and hums, “Too bad you’re stuck with me…”

You pull away a bit to look up at him, “You think?”

Kol stares at you, debating internally about what to say, “I think… no, I know,” he takes a deep breath, “…that I have completely fallen in love with you, Y/N Salvatore…”

A smile appears on your face, “Well I know that I am utterly in love with you as well, Kol Mikaelson…”

He smiles before capturing your lips in a soft but passionate kiss. The arm around your waist tightens, he pulls you impossibly close and you loop your arms around his neck.

A low whistle followed by clapping causes the two of you to break apart, Kol didn’t let you get too far though, still keeping his hand on your waist.

“Took you long enough,” Klaus smirks.

You cover your face with your face with your hands, completely embarrassed but Kol just seems annoyed by the interruption.

“Is there something you need Nik?” Kol asks, rolling his eyes.

“I was just wondering what that burning smell was, wouldn’t want our lovely home to burn down. But I see now our little baker was just… preoccupied…”

“Rebekah!” Klaus shouts, causing your eyes to widen.

“Nik no!” you retort, peaking through your fingers, but you knew it was too late.

“What the bloody hell do you want now?” Rebekah asks as she walks into the room.

Klaus smirks and then gestures towards you and Kol by tilting his head. Rebekah immediately notices the hand around your waist and gasps.

“Finally! I thought you two would be dancing around each other forever!” she squeals.

“What is all this shouting about?” Elijah asks, entering the room while adjusting his cufflinks.

Kol pinches the bridge of his nose before leaning over to whisper to you, fully aware his siblings could still hear him, “It’s like they all come out of the woodwork at the most inopportune times…”

Elijah spots the cooling racks of pizzelles and makes his way over, immediately picking up one of the burnt cookies. He holds it up and raises a brow at you, waiting for an answer.

Klaus begins to cackle, speeding over to Elijah to take the charred cookie from him, “Brother, Y/N got distracted…” he points at Kol, “the distraction.”

Elijah lets out a little chuckle, clearly amused, “Yes, well, try not to get distracted in the kitchen… we eat in here.”

1872

New Orleans

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Kol holds your face in his hands.

“More than anything… I want to be with you.”

Kol chuckles, “My darling, you’re already with me, you already have me.”

He takes your hands and places them over his heart, “This dead heart belongs to you.”

You giggle a bit at his words and he smiles before frowning, “I just… I don’t want you to think you have to do this for me…”

You smile softly, “I know, but this is what I want, I promise…”

“Then it’s a good thing I’ve already had my witches make you a ring… a gorgeous ring for a gorgeous girl, my gorgeous girl…”

You giggle again and pull him in for a kiss which he quickly reciprocates. After a moment he forces himself to pull away. He scoots til his back is against the headboard then pulls you so you’re sitting with your back against his chest.

Kol brings his wrist to his mouth, fangs protruding and bites into his own flesh before holding his wrist near your mouth for you to take. Both your hands grab onto him, pulling his wrist as close to your mouth as physically possible and begin to drink from him.

He groans at the sensation and brushes some of the hair from your face, “Atta girl… that’s it… just a little more… good…”

When Kol decides you’ve had enough he pulls away, chuckling at the way you try to follow his now healing wrist, “My, my, already so bloodthirsty…”

You look up at him and pout, some of his blood dripping from your lips. He could get used to sight of you and blood, his two favorite things, together. He gives you another kiss, tasting his own blood from your mouth.

Pulling back, he sighs, “This is the part I don’t like.”

You lean up and kiss his cheek, “You’re the only one I’d trust to do this… it’s okay, my love, it’s what I want.”

Reluctantly, Kol brings his hand up to your neck, “I love you, my darling.”

“I love you… now please, kill me.”

He winces at the sound of your neck breaking, squeezing his eyes shut. He lays in your bed, holding your body, brushing the hair from your face while softly humming until you wake up.

Present Day

Mystic Falls

You stare at your daylight ring, spinning it on your finger.

“Y/N… Y/N… Y/N!” Damon snaps his fingers in front of your face to gain your attention.

You jump and look at him and then at Stefan, now noticing that Elena left.

“Are you alright?” Stefan asks, tilting his head.

“I’m fine… just… lost in thought.”

Damon’s gaze stays focused on your ring, “Is that your daylight ring?”

You hum, looking up at him and then at Stefan, before holding your hand up to show off the ring, “I know, it’s not nearly as gaudy as yours.”

Stefan chuckles but Damon narrows his eyes, “It’s not a wedding ring,” he notes.

“No…” you state but it sounds more like a question.

“So the guy can ask you to die and be forced to drink blood for the rest of eternity but he can’t get down on one knee and pop the question?”

“Damon…” Stefan sighs, they had just gotten you back and he was worried that all of Damon’s passive aggressive comments were going to drive you away again.

You scoff, “He didn’t ask me to do anything, it was my choice. I wanted this. We… we didn’t need to be married to be in love… it just wasn’t the right time for a wedding anyways…”

Stefan seems a little shocked, “You asked him to turn you?”

Before you can respond to Stefan, Damon interrupts, “This was your first boyfriend?”

“He was my first everything,” you state matter-of-factly.

Both Stefan and Damon groan in disgust at your words and the implication of them.

You roll your eyes, “Oh grow up.”

Stefan stands up, “And on that note, I’m going to school… make sure Elena’s okay…”

You fake pout, “You don’t wanna hang out with your sister after not seeing her for so long?”

“That’s not—“

You cut him off, “Relax Stef, I’m kidding. Go.”

He gives you a curt nod and heads out of the room, leaving you alone with Rose and Damon. You almost forgot Rose was here, she had been quiet ever since she had finished her speech about Klaus. Damon gives Rose a look and she nods, leaving the room.

“I thought you hated vampires,” Damon states, taking the spot on the couch where Stefan once was.

“I did… until I met him.” Them.

Damon stays quiet for a moment, his eyes soften a bit, “This guy must have been special.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, “He was… I really loved him, Damon. I really do still love him…”

Your brother sighs, scooching closer to you on the couch. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you to him.

“I am happy to have you back, you know… it’s just… you’re not the same kid I left behind, you’ve grown so much, to me you’re still the little girl whose hair I used to braid…”

“It’s okay, Day… I get it… I do,” you smile, using the nickname you used to call him as a child.

He ruffles your hair, “Why don’t we go out, I’ll show you around town… it’s practically the same, just modern.”

“I… uhm…” you sigh, “I’m tired to be honest, I traveled a long way to get here… and I think all the ‘excitement’ just made me even more tired…”

He nods, “Alright, I’m assuming you want your same room, you remember where it is?”

You stand up from the couch, “How could I forget?”

You leave Damon on the couch, making your way to the stairs. You take note of Rose who was standing near the kitchen doorway, she had clearly been listening to your conversation. There was no such thing as privacy with vampires.

Your room was exactly as you had left it, you could tell that no one had even entered the room in years. If you had to guess, you’d say that the last ones to enter were Klaus and Elijah— they had also retrieved your favorite teddy bear on their mission to get the cook book. There was dust floating around and cobwebs everywhere. You let out a sigh just as Damon makes his way up the stairs to you, he must have remembered the state of your room.

“No one’s been in there since…”

“I know,” you cut him off.

“We didn’t want to disturb it…”

You sigh, “Can I just… have another room for now?”

He nods and leads you down the hall to one of the guest rooms that had been maintained over the years, “I can get you extra blankets? Extra pillows?”

You shake your head, walking further into the room and sit on the bed, “This is fine.”

”Alright, well, I’ll let you sleep,” as he’s about to leave, his hand goes to the light switch to turn it off.

In a second, you’re off of the bed. You grab his hand causing him to groan in pain, you were sure you broke fingers but you didn’t care. You couldn’t let him turn off the light.

“Ow!”

You let go after a second, “I… I’m sorry…” you mumble.

“Jesus! If you didn’t want it off you could have said that!” he waves his hand around, wincing as his fingers snap themselves back into place.

You just blink at him, and he sighs, “Just get some rest.”

He reaches for the door this time, you grab it as it’s about to close and he stops, “Yeah?”

“Don’t close the door.”

Damon raises a brow, “You want the light on and the door open?”

You nod, “Please…”

“You can sleep like that?”

“It’s the only way I can sleep.”

Damon goes to open his mouth, but quickly shuts it, deciding that for once in his life he should just be quiet. He nods and leaves it at that, you let out of a sigh when goes, dropping down onto the guest bed.

You want to close your eyes but you can’t. It’s too dark.

Stefan eventually returns and finds Damon sipping on bourbon as usual.

“Our sister is strange,” Damon announces the second Stefan steps foot in the door.

Stefan sighs, “Alright, I’ll bite. What happened?”

Damon sets down his glass, “She’s upstairs, sleeping.”

“Okay?”

“With the door open, the curtains open, and the light on.”

“Damon, just leave it alone.”

The older Salvatore scoffs, “Come on Stefan, that’s weird.”

Stefan shrugs, “I didn’t say it wasn’t. I just said to leave it alone. We just got her back, literally today and if you keep pushing like you always do, you’re going to push her away. Again.”

“Don’t act like this is all on me. We both pushed her away… pushed her right into the arms of some scummy vampire and now she’s stuck like us. Well, at least it sounds like she actually got to make that choice.”

“I thought we were past that,” Stefan lets out a humourless chuckle.

“We’ll never be past that.”

“I was just joking before about you two constantly fighting…” you mumble as you walk down the stairs.

Damon smirks, “Stefan loves to bicker.”

You raise a brow, “So it’s only Stefan then?”

You swiftly make your way across the room to the bourbon and grab a glass, you turn to Damon, “May I?”

“Knock yourself out.”

Humming, you pour yourself a glass, looking at Damon over the rim of the cup, “You and Rose woke me up earlier, safe to say I’m disgusted…” This was a lie, you never fell asleep in the first place.

Damon rolls his eyes, “Now who needs to grow up?”

Stefan sighs and takes that as his que to cut in, “You sleep well? Besides that…”

You take a sip of the alcohol before responding, “Like a baby.”

Another lie, you hadn’t slept ‘like a baby’ since 1914.

1914

New Orleans

“He’ll never let us leave, he’ll never let us be happy.” Kol holds you tightly in his arms, “This is the only way…” he pulls back to hold your face in his hands, “I’ll find the diamond, my witches will do what we need, and then we will leave this place, my love. I want to show you the world, just as you wish but we can’t do that with him looming over us.”

You swallow, “I am tired of watching him hurt you… all of you.”

“And I do not want him to ever hurt you.“

Klaus had been a friend to you over the years but the one thing you disagreed on was how he handled his siblings. It broke your heart to watch any of them be daggered and put away in those wretched boxes for however long he deemed necessary. It drove a rift in between the two of you and you knew Kol was right, with how tightly of a leash Klaus kept on Kol, it was only a matter of time before Klaus saw Kol as a threat and daggered him again.

Besides, it wouldn’t be killing Nik. It would just be giving him a taste of his own medicine for once.

“Okay…”

“Okay?”

You nod and Kol lets out a small chuckle, half smiling at you, he presses his lips to yours.

Pulling back, he looks you up and down, “All you have to do is look pretty, which is an easy task for you considering you always look gorgeous.”

He takes your hand and has you do a twirl, admiring the way your dress moves as you spin, “Absolutely stunning.”

You roll your eyes, giggling as he spins you right into his arms, “Always such a charmer.”

“Only for you…” he presses a kiss to your head, “You head down to the party I’ll be right there.”

You hum, connecting your lips one last time before heading downstairs, blending into the crowd around you. Soon after, Kol would make his way downstairs, he snuck up behind you, placing his hands on your hips and whispering into your ear.

“Rebekah knows but do not fret… she’s going to help us.”

Only she wouldn’t, Rebekah ran straight to Klaus and told him everything.

All of you were currently on the stairs, posed for a family photograph. Kol had his arm wrapped securely around your waist when Klaus raised his glass, taping the side of it with a knife to attract the attention of everyone in the room. He starts by thanking those invited for attending but then makes a special toast to Rebekah.

He looks at you and Kol while speaking, “It is especially gratifying in times when treachery runs deep to know you have someone you can trust…” he turns back to face Rebekah, smiling at her, “A toast, to you, my sister.”

Kol tenses, the two of you share a look and quickly begin to make your way up the stairs. You make it to the top of the stairs before Kol does and just as he’s about to join you, Elijah speeds in front of him. Elijah grabs Kol’s arms, successfully detaining him as Klaus slowly walks up the stairs. You’re frozen in place, unsure what to do and Kol looks at you. He knows this will be the last time he sees you for a very long time so he decides to commit your features to memory. He regrets not asking you for a dance earlier.

“Ladies and gentlemen! I do apologize for the disturbance! But, what’s a Mikaelson party without a little squabble…?” He reveals a silver dagger.

“Y/N run!” Kol shouts and you listen.

You rush away making Klaus sigh, looking at Rebekah over his shoulder, “Catch her,” he commands.

Kol looks at his sister, a pleading look in his eyes as he struggles in Elijah’s hold— watching her run after you, knowing that it would be near impossible for you to outrun her.

You hear Kol’s pained scream as Klaus shoves the dagger into his heart, trying to fight your tears as you run. You were outside when Rebekah caught you, slamming you into the wall.

“Bekah please…”

Her eyes scan your face, your fear, your grief, and she loosens her hold, “I have never had a true friend until you, Y/N… please… forgive me for what I am about to do.”

Rebekah takes your face in her hands, staring into your eyes and you begin to panic, knowing what is about to happen.

“You promised you’d never do that! All of you did! That you’d never take my choice away!” you fight against her.

“Look at me,” her voice becomes hypnotic and you find yourself unable to look away from her eyes, “You’re going to forget Kol, you’re going to forget that you were ever in love with him. You’ve never even heard his name. You are going to forget all about Elijah and… me. All you will know regarding the Mikaelson family is that you have to keep running from Klaus. You don’t stop, you don’t stay in one place for long, you keep running.”

Your eyes have completely glazed over, pupils dilated, “I keep running from Klaus…”

Rebekah pulls back from you, staring at you as your eyes go back to normal, “Y/N?”

“I… I’m sorry, do I know you? I… nevermind that I need to get going, I’m sorry again,” you say, walking past her before using your speed to get farther away.

Rebekah lets out a shaky breath, knowing that Klaus will not believe that you were able to outrun her. She brings her own hands to her neck and snaps it, falling to the ground.

Maybe he’d believe that.

Present Day

Mystic Falls

A few days had passed since your arrival in Mystic Falls, while everything had seemingly calmed down a bit, there was still the looming presence of Klaus.

You had been briefly involved with their plan of getting the moonstone from Katherine, you knew it wouldn’t do them any good and it was clear they were grasping at straws to try and save the doppelgängers life. After contacting him, he told you to just continue on as is so you wouldn’t raise suspicion. You had witnessed Elena’s attempt at a self-sacrifice play, which she failed at terribly due to your brother's intervention… and Elijah’s.

Damon was incredibly annoyed when he found out Elijah was still alive. And after a lot of back and forth and changing of plans, you managed to convince Damon to let you accompany him to the bar to confront Jules. You refused to be on babysitting duty with Jeremy.

You made it your mission to avoid Elijah, knowing that if you saw him you’d end up telling Klaus in fear of him interfering with their plan. You already knew that Elena and her group of friends would try to interfere but you could handle them - you had plans. Caroline was meant to be the vampire… but you had plenty of options for a vampire, maybe even your own brothers. Tyler Lockwood was a werewolf, but you needed a backup, which is the whole reason you went to the bar with Damon. You wanted to get an idea about Jules so that it would be easier to get her.

Jules was smart, she wouldn’t drink the wolfsbane and she instantly knew what you and Damon were. That wouldn’t matter, you knew when it came down to it - you’d be able to capture her with ease. You backed down from the argument, not wanting to fight in the middle of the bar but Damon didn’t. He kept pushing just like he always did.

That brought you to where you were now, back at the boarding house with Damon and Rose. The two were clearly having a moment so you decided to take a step back into the living room. Just as you do, a large wolf jumps through the window, slamming you into the ground. You hold its jaw, pushing its mouth away from you in fear of being bit.

“Damon!” you shriek, “A little help would be nice!”

Damon goes to the fireplace mantel, picking up a sword, taking a swing at the wolf. It lets out a pained sound and releases you- now going to attack Damon. Before it’s able to turn your brother into a chew toy, Rose jumps in front of him, taking the brunt of the attack. The werewolf sinks its teeth into her shoulder, infecting her with its deadly bite.

Your brother slashes the wolf once more and it takes off into the night, knowing it wouldn’t survive another hit from the blade. You let out a sigh of relief, turning to look at Damon and Rose.

“How bad is it?” Damon asks Rose, helping her off the ground to examine the bite.

“It hurts…” Rose whimpers.

You frown, already knowing what is going to happen, you knew of the false hope that she would get.

Damon’s eyes widen, “It’s healing!”

Rose tilts her head to look at her shoulder better, “Oh my God… I thought a werewolf bite was fatal!”

‘It is’ you want to say, to warn her of what is going to happen about how she’ll lose her mind. But you stay silent.

“I thought…” tears fill Rose’s eyes and Damon pulls her into his arms.

“You’re going to be okay…” he reassures her, giving you a look.

You press your lips together, nodding, leaving the room to give them their moment once more. Allowing them to live in a fantasy where Rose would be okay.

You made the decision to disappear for a few days, leaving your brothers and Elena to deal with Rose. Both of them left numerous messages on your phone.

“This is what? Call two hundred and twenty four? You’re really not going to answer them?” Klaus muses.

You sigh, shaking your head, “No. I’m not. They just want help with Rose… I don’t… I don’t want to see her like that, losing her mind… I’ve seen that happen too many times before.”

Klaus hums, “Let me guess, you’re going to ask for my blood to heal her?”

“No,” you shake your head, “She needs to die, she knows too much about you and your family, she’s a threat… besides she’s probably dead now.”

“Our family,” Klaus corrects.

You continue, ignoring him, “I just thought she’d die with a stake in her heart not from going insane.”

“Still sensitive.”

You choose to ignore his comment once again, playing the latest voicemail left by Stefan.

“Y/N, I don’t know where you are or why you left… I’m worried though… about you, about Elena… I miss you… can you please come home? Listen, Rose is dead and Damon is doing what he does best— deflecting. He’s got this new girl… Andie Star I think? I- I don’t know what happened that night, maybe you got bit too? I really hope not… Maybe you got scared… you ran… just please at least call me if you’re not going to come home… I need to know you’re okay. I love you.”

“I presume you’re going back now?”

You nod and Klaus smirks, “Excellent… I’ll be making my appearance soon.”

By time you arrived back in Mystic Falls, Elijah had been ‘dealt with’ as Damon put it. That made you anxious, you doubted they had found a white oak stake but the only alternative was a dagger, and that thought made your stomach churn.

Leaving had fractured the trust you built between your brothers, you knew it would but that was fine with you. The less you knew regarding Elijah, the better. You told them the truth, that you knew Rose was going to die - painfully and out of her mind. Damon was angry that you didn’t tell them and Stefan understood.

There was also the little fact that Katherine had been released of her compulsion. You had to admit, you were a tad anxious she’d find a way to Klaus and find out about your deal. If she ratted you out to Stefan and Damon, every part of your perfectly calculated plan would be ruined. Hopefully, Klaus would be enough to distract your brothers from you so they wouldn’t get too suspicious.

It was no secret that Niklaus Mikaelson liked making an entrance and being as you were currently not getting all the intel since they still didn’t trust you fully— Klaus decided to use one of his favorite tricks which you suggested. Body possession.

On the night of the school dance, Klaus possessed Alaric's body, revealing himself to Bonnie and Elena with dramatic flair and then he killed the Benett witch— at least that’s what you two thought.

The truth of Bonnie’s fate would be revealed on the night of the ritual when she showed up to kill Klaus with the help of Elijah.

Elijah had dug his hand into Klaus’ chest and you had no idea what to do. You couldn’t fight Elijah, that was one fight you’d certainly lose, not to mention Bonnie and all of the others being there, they’d stop you before you could lay a hand on him.

Klaus looked at you, silencing your fears with one glance before looking back to Elijah and confessing the truth, “I didn’t bury them at sea.”

His gaze flickered to you and Elijah looked to where his brother was, he hadn’t seen you in so long but still, he trusted you, so when you nod your head ever so slightly… he believes Klaus.

Two days had passed since the ritual and Klaus was now a hybrid. You had spent those two days following Elijah through the woods, cleaning up Klaus’ mess.

In fact, that’s where you currently are. It had been practically silent between the two of you, neither of you wanting to start the conversation, after all it had been nearly a hundred years. That was until you decided to open your mouth after arriving at another camp that had been ripped apart.

You move a body and scoff, “He’s not even draining them. He’s killing for sport.”

Elijah hums, “You sound shocked, you should know by now this behavior is expected of Niklaus.”

“He’s wasting perfectly good snacks,” you grumble as you throw the body to Elijah who catches it with ease.

“You’re thirsty?”

“No, Elijah, I’m annoyed,” you throw your hands up, walking closer to him, “It’s been two days since the full moon, why is he still a wolf?”

“I don’t have the answer to that.”

“Okay, well, what if he’s stuck as a wolf? Hm? Then what? We’re going to put him on a leash and have him lead us to the coffins?”

Elijah lets out a chuckle, “While that image is amusing, I’m sure he’ll be turning back soon.”

You sigh and go back to cleaning up the bodies in silence, when you’re done you both continue to follow the trail that Klaus was leaving behind, you had no doubt you’d soon run into more bodies.

“What have you been up to for the past century?” Elijah asks, walking so close that your arms brush against each other.

You come to a stop, and it takes Elijah a moment to stop and turn back, looking at you slightly confused.

“Are you serious? I was trapped, Elijah, and when I was trapped I was running from him,” you jab your finger into his chest, “from you.”

Elijah looks down at you, a frown on his face, “I haven’t been doing Niklaus’ bidding since he said he dropped all of them into the ocean… he implied that he had found you as well… that you were gone… I never did want to hurt you, Y/N.”

“Well it didn’t seem that way to me. I didn’t know that. I’ve spent the last century looking over my shoulder, not staying anywhere for more than a moment because I knew that no matter where I went, you, or him, or some minion of his would be waiting. And when I wasn’t running I was trapped… there… all alone…”

“Y/N—“

“I know what we did was unforgivable,” you say, taking a step away from him to continue following the trail and he follows, “but what he had planned for me was just cruel…”

“If it’s any consolation, none of us agreed with Niklaus’ ‘gift’.”

You let out a humorless laugh, “Is that what he called it?”

“Yes, it was intended to be given to you for your engagement… obviously you were shown sooner than intended… it was his disturbed way of welcoming you into the family officially.”

Your brows furrow, “What engagement?”

Elijah stops, seemingly realizing his mistake, “I apologize, I thought you knew… Kol…”

You stop and turn to him, “He was going to propose?” your voice breaks a bit as you will away your tears.

Elijah sighs, stopping to face you, “He had rings, new daylight rings… I do not know much of how he planned to propose, just that he planned to do it after the new year… You two had been together for so long I assume he thought it was time to ask…”

You blink a few times, before clearing your throat, “Let’s just find Klaus.”

He nods, continuing to follow the path, he can practically feel the emotions rolling off of you. Grief, sadness, anger, and even jealousy. Then there was the look on your face, the look of heartbreak. Even after all these years, he still hated to see you like this. He would always feel guilty, after all, he was the first one you met, the one who introduced you to everyone. He would forever feel at least somewhat responsible for your pain.

1869

New Orleans

It had been five years, nearly six since you ran from home, since your brothers were killed, and you were still having a hard time settling down. You found yourself in New Orleans, you loved everything about it, but there was one problem. It was hard to find work as a woman and even harder as a seventeen year old so you adapted to stealing.

You would wait by stands or alleyways and wait for the perfect target, you’d typically go for men who held their heads high as if they owned the world. Men who were so well dressed that you knew they had money to spare. Sometimes you’d even hang out near bars to find men stumbling around, too drunk to notice you taking their entire wallet.

It was late now, you were leaning against a wall when you saw him. A rather attractive man dressed in a fancy suit, you had no doubt that it had been tailor fitted to him. He begins to walk down the street, walking right past you, seemingly not noticing you. There weren’t as many people out now, normally you’d use the strangers during the day as cover but this man clearly had too much money for his good, you couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

As quietly as possible, you push yourself off the wall and follow behind him. You smirk when you see his wallet in his back pocket but just as your fingers graze what you assume is real leather, his hand snatches your wrist.

“What do you think you’re doing?” His voice was low, dangerous.

You curse yourself for being so reckless. You swallow your pride and decide to try and flirt your way out. Men with the kind of money you knew he had, always enjoyed being flirted with, it boosts their already over-inflated egos.

You giggle while leaning a bit closer, “You’re even more handsome up close…”

He chuckles, “Is that so?”

“And this suit… it fits you so well…” you brush your hand along his chest.

“That’s very flattering…” he smiles, bringing his hand up to cup yours.

Hook. Line. Sinker. You had him.

“But I know what you’re doing.”

You did not have him.

Your smile fades away and you pull back from him. This had never happened before, most of the men were too dumb to figure it out (at least until they got home and found their wallets missing), it was just your luck that you’d try and rob the only smart guy around.

“How old are you?” He looks you up and down.

You gulp, “Seventeen, sir.”

He pulls his wallet from his pocket and holds it out to you, “Take it.”

“What?”

“Take it, you want my wallet? Take it.”

With shaky hands, you reach for the wallet, it was embarrassing being caught like this but you needed the money.

“Thank you…” you trail off, realizing you hadn’t learned his name.

“Elijah Mikaelson.”

Your eyes widen at the name, you had heard of the Mikaelsons before. A rich, powerful family and there were whispers all around that they were the thing you hated most. Vampires.

He smirks at your reaction, “And you are?”

“Y/N.”

He nods and smiles but it quickly fades when he glances at his watch, “Well, Miss Y/N do try to stay safe… you never know who or what may be lurking in these streets, especially at this time of night.”

And just like that, he was gone. The next time you saw him was after the new year when he pulled a newly turned vampire off of you. You saw him a third time when this exact thing happened again, you didn’t know why but you it seemed you were practically vampire bait.

After these two incidents, Elijah decided it wasn't safe for you to be on the streets any longer and invited you to come stay with him for some time before he could find something more permanent. An idea you were not so eager about when he confirmed that he and his family were in fact, vampires. But you couldn’t pass up the offer when he was offering you an actual bed to sleep in and numerous necessities. Little did either of you know that the compound would become your permanent home.

Present Day

Mystic Falls

After your conversation you had fallen behind Elijah, walking slower to keep the distance. When he called out that he had found him, you hardly even picked up the pace.

“You’ve been busy…” Elijah remarks, leaning on a tree.

“That was… amazing.” You hear Klaus’ voice before you see him.

And when you do see him you groan, spinning around and closing your eyes, “You could have told me he was naked.”

“Did you think I was carrying around his clothes these past two days for fun?” Elijah raises a brow.

“It’s been two days?” Klaus asks, you can hear him shuffling around while getting dressed.

“Full moon came and went. You remained a wolf.” Elijah states but it’s more of a question.

“I can change at will then, that’s good to know.”

Klaus smiles and then chuckles, “I remember… every single kill.”

“Yes, we’ve been cleaning up your little mess along the way.” Elijah gestures between the two of you.

“Just like old times then.”

Elijah hums, and pushes off the tree, handing Klaus his boots, “Well, you’ve had your fun. I believe we have a bargain.”

“That’s right!” Klaus exclaims, leaning down to put on his boots, “Now what was it again? Oh yeah, wait, I remember, that’s it! You wish to be reunited with our family!”

“And you!” he shouts towards you, “You want your precious Kol back…”

You turn around, finally facing him, pleased to see that he has put his pants on. You want to say something but hold your tongue, there was a time where you weren’t afraid of him but now it felt that if you even stepped a toe out of line he’d hunt you down.

Elijah brushes off Klaus’ jacket, “You gave me your word, Niklaus.”

Klaus smiles, cheekily, “And what kind of brother would I be if I broke my bond… even if you did try and kill me.”

You sigh, and Elijah holds out Klaus’ jacket for him to put on, “I could have… but I didn’t.”

Klaus puts on his jacket and fixes the collar, “And now no one can,” he turns to face Elijah, “Relax, Elijah, all is forgiven.”

He smiles at you, “That applies to you as well, love. You have more than proved yourself loyal.”

“Where are they?” Elijah cuts in.

Klaus grins, patting his brother's arm, “You need to lighten up… I’ll bring you to them soon enough.”

He walks ahead of you and Elijah, the two of you sharing a look before you scoff and follow after the hybrid. He ends up taking you to Alaric's apartment, you feel a pit in your stomach knowing that Katherine is going to be there but you do your best to push it away.

“Look who decided to come for a visit.” Katherine gestures to Stefan as you, Klaus, and Elijah enter the apartment.

“I need your help.” Stefan states, his eyes flickering to you, wondering why the hell you’re with them, there was no way for you to know what had happened to Damon so that couldn’t be it.

Elijah shuts the door, and Stefan steps closer, “For my brother.” he then looks at you, “our brother.”

Klaus clicks his tongue, “Oh well, whatever it is, it’s going to have to wait a tick. You see, I have an obligation to my brother.” he points at Elijah. “And your sister…” he points at you.

“It requires my immediate attention.” Klaus brushes past Stefan.

You hug yourself, feeling anxious of the entire situation, it was bad enough that Katherine was here and now Stefan was too.

“You understand how important family is or you wouldn’t be here.” Elijah walks a bit closer to Stefan, “My brother gave me his word that he would reunite me with my family.”

“And so I shall.” Klaus speaks from behind Elijah, Elijah spins around to face his brother but it is too late, Klaus shoves a dagger through his heart.

You feel frozen when Elijah screams, tears begin to fill your eyes, you know what is about to come and there's no point in running because he’d just catch you. Rebekah wasn’t here this time to buy you time.

His body drops to the ground with a sickening thud, his skin completely grey and you knew you would not get the privilege of a quick death.

Klaus smiles at you and the tears begin to fall from your eyes.

“Please! I- I didn’t know about Elijah’s plan! I didn’t even know he was here! I only heard rumors! I swear! You said it yourself, Klaus- I’m loyal! I’ve proved it!”

Klaus shushes you and walks closer, your body doesn’t move, you’re rooted in your spot. He brings his hand up to hold your cheek and brushes a tear away, you shudder at the touch, letting out a sob.

“Loyal…?” Stefan questions, the floorboards creaking when he steps forward.

Klaus’ gaze immediately snaps to your brother, “Another step and I’ll rip her heart out.”

“She’s my sister-“

“All the more reason for you to stay put, Stefan.”

The two stare at each other for a moment before Stefan steps back. Klaus smirks, turning back to you. You tense up when he rests his hand on your neck, another sob wracks through your body.

“Don’t do this… I did what you asked! I found the doppelgänger! I found Elena! I called you as soon as I found her! Sure- Katherine found the werewolf but I made sure you had the backup one! And you needed the backup one! And- and using Alaric was my idea! I came up with that, it was perfect! You thought it was hilarious! I’ve helped you!”

Stefan’s brow furrows at your admission, his voice barely audible as he connects the dots, “You’re the reason he’s here… that’s… that’s why you came back to Mystic Falls to find us… not because you missed us, but because you’re helping him…” 

You don’t bother to look over to your brother, you felt bad for betraying his trust, for lying to him but he could never understand, you don’t say anything, it wouldn’t matter now.

You look up at Klaus with tears staining your cheeks, “I did everything right!” your voice falls to a whisper, “Don’t make me go back there, it’s dark, Nik, I hate the dark…”

“You know, I considered you family once, I treated you as such.”

“Please Nikkie… you gave me your word…I just want him back, you promised me!”

“Oh love…” Klaus brings his hand up to brush some of the hair from your face, “You have me confused with Elijah…”

In a split second his hand falls to your neck, the sound of it snapping fills the room and he drops your body on the ground, discarding you.

Klaus turns back to Stefan who looks devastated by the news, “Don’t look so glum Stefan, you wouldn’t be the first to be tricked by your sister. She’d do anything to survive, even if it meant betraying those closest to her,” he glances at Katherine, noting the similarities.

He shakes his head, looking back at Stefan, “But that’s a story for another day…”

Klaus speeds forward, slamming Stefan into the wall, “Now… what am I going to do with you?”

Present Day

Chicago

“My sister? She knew you? All of you?”

Klaus approaches the coffins, “If you can’t handle it, don’t ask.”

Stefan looks at all of the coffins but two of them catch his attention, they’re away from the rest, almost like they’ve been isolated. One of the coffins is made of some sort of metal and they both have engravings on them that compliment each other.

Klaus notices his gaze and smirks, “I see you’ve spotted the lovers.”

“the lovers?” Stefan raises a brow.

His smirk deepens, he steps away from Rebekah’s coffin and to the others, he opens one of them, revealing a boy in clothing from the the early 1900s.

Stefan looks over the boy, completely confused he turns to Klaus who grins.

“You wouldn’t recognize him… you never had the pleasure of meeting Kol…” he brushes his hand over the engraving on the other one, “You’d recognize whose in this one though…”

Klaus could see the gears turning in Stefan’s head, his eyes widening as he pieced the puzzle together.

“My sister?” his voice breaks a bit.

Klaus laughs, “You always were quick, Ripper.”

“This is what you meant by family? You got her a coffin and a dagger? That’s family to you?”

The hybrid clicks his tongue a few times, wagging his finger, “No Stefan, I got her a coffin… I never said anything about a dagger.”

Stefan’s heart sinks at the new information, it all hit him at once, why you hated the dark, why you had to have the door open, why couldn’t stand to be in silence.

You didn’t get a century long sleep like Klaus’ siblings would, you got to lay there and rot, slowly and painfully, all alone.

“I had a witch make it, it’s spelled… only I can open it.” Klaus boasts, clearly proud of his work.

“That’s cruel, even for you.”

“Maybe so, but I must punish those who betray me accordingly.”

Klaus takes a step closer to Stefan, “You met Rebekah and I in 1920… but we did not meet by chance. I sought you out, I was looking for your sister… The girl can really run when she wants to. I was hoping you’d be able to help me find her, but you were too busy draining civilians, Ripper.”

“I wouldn’t have been helpful either way. I thought she was dead.”

“I’m aware… I thought that she’d maybe be nearby, watching, that was something she often did— check up on you and Damon. Regardless, I found her on my own in 1924.”

1924

London

Today marks four years since Rebekah’s compulsion had worn off which meant one of two things, she was dead (unlikely) or she had been daggered (very likely).

It had been four years since you remembered Kol and ten years that you had been running. You were tired, tired of running, tired of having to look over your shoulder every five seconds, tired of not having your beloved around.

Klaus was hunting you and you had done a damn good job at keeping him off of your trail, always being careful when finding a snack and making sure you were never in one place for too long.

So you decided to do the opposite, you had been in London for two weeks now, ripping through crowds of people with no remorse. You wanted Klaus to find you, you wanted him to kill you.

You’re currently in a bar full of people, well, dead people. You slaughtered everyone and now had your teeth buried in some man’s neck.

“Perhaps you’re more like Stefan than I thought.” Klaus’ voice fills the bar.

Reluctantly, you pull yourself off of the now dead, drained man. You look at Klaus with blood coating your face and staining your dress.

After staring at each other for a moment, you stand to your full height, Klaus gives you a once over before raising a brow.

“You’ve gotten sloppy, left a trail of bodies a mile long leading me right to you.”

You simply stare at him and he smirks, “You wanted to be found.”

“I can’t do this anymore… not without him. I‘m tired, Nik. Please, just end it.”

Niklaus clicks his tongue, “End it?” He takes a step towards you.

“Kill me.”

Klaus laughs, “You think I want to kill you?”

Your brows furrow and you take a step back from the hybrid, Klaus snaps his fingers and two men enter the room carrying a coffin.

You take another step back, eyes widening and Klaus grins, “You can try to run but you won’t get far…”

“No… you… you can’t dagger me…”

“You’re right, daggers are such trivial things to make… you would know after all. But a lockbox that only I can open, now that’s much simpler.”

You decide to risk it, attempting to speed away but he catches you in a second, holding you up in the air by your throat.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be back with him soon enough… consider this me officially welcoming you into the family.”

Present Day

Chicago

“What was the point of letting her out just to lock her back up? To be cruel?”

Klaus shrugs, “I was bored and decided to make her a deal in 1984.”

“1984? You kept her in there for…”

“Sixty years, Stefan. She betrayed me and those were the consequences. When I woke her up we made an agreement.”

“What kind of agreement?”

“She’d find me Katherine and bring her to me. She couldn’t ever find Katherine but she found me something even better…”

“Elena…”

“Yes, the doppelgänger.”

“So she knew the truth about your curse? That you’re a hybrid?”

“She was my family once, lived with us for nearly half a century. She knows a lot more than she led you all to believe. But don’t get any ideas, she’d never tell you anything that could hurt us… she wouldn’t risk Kol or Rebekah getting caught in the crossfire… or Elijah, though I suppose she’d be alright losing me considering she attempted to do so herself.”

“Moving on!” Klaus chirps, moving back to Rebekah, “It’s time for my little sister to wake up…”

“And I knew her?” Stefan asks, looking into the now open coffin, “I don’t recognize her.”

“Well don’t tell her that,” Klaus muses, “Rebekah’s temper is worse than mine.”

He pulls the dagger out, waiting for a moment before sighing, “Any Day now, Rebekah… she’s being dramatic.”

Present Day

Mystic Falls

It had been months since Klaus had locked you away. You were a bit surprised when he came to free you, your bones creaked, skin practically gray… still, you weren’t nearly as desiccated as the last time you had been in that coffin.

He fed you blood and brushed your hair for you as if you were a doll then provided you with a white colored dress that went to your knees, it reminded you of the one Elijah had given you when you first arrived in their home.

When Klaus revealed he was hosting a dinner with Elijah for Stefan and Damon you realized what he was doing. You were a bargaining chip.

You sat in the living room, humming to yourself, waiting for them to arrive. You still felt weak from not having blood for so long and the fact you were shaking was proof of that, the little blood that Klaus had provided was not enough.

Soon enough, your brothers arrived and were let inside by Elijah, “Niklaus, our guests have arrived…”

“Damon… Stefan…” Klaus greets, standing by the head of the dining room table, “Elijah tells me you seek an audience… very bold. Let’s discuss the terms of our agreement like civilized men, shall we?” he gestures to the large table that was set for five.

“It’s better to indulge him,” Elijah states, moving past your brothers.

“I didn’t come here to eat Klaus,” Stefan narrows his eyes, taking a step down the stairs, “I didn’t want to come here at all… but… I was told I had to, because you’d hear us out.”

Klaus hums, “Well we can sit and eat… or I can reach down your throats and pull out your insides…” he takes his seat at the head of the table, “choice is yours…”

Your brothers decide it would be best to sit and eat. Once the four brothers had sat down, Klaus sat forward in his chair, dramatically placing his hands in front of him, “I almost forgot! Sweetheart!” he calls out, “You can come out now!”

That was your que to enter, walking through the doorway and making a beeline for the table, refusing to meet anyone's eyes. Elijah stands when he sees you, pulling out your chair for you and when you sit he pushes you in.

“Y/N…” Damon says quietly, it isn’t until then that you realize he hasn’t seen you since the night of the ritual.

“Damon…” you mumble in a voice so quiet that anyone without supernatural hearing wouldn’t be able to hear you.

“How are you—“ he begins but is quickly cut off by Stefan.

“She’s practically part of their freaky family, Damon, and Klaus won’t kill his family… he’ll just torture them endlessly.”

“That’s not very nice Stefan,” Klaus clicks his tongue.

You grab the glass of wine, downing it as quickly as possible. Hoping that it will not only curb your blood cravings but also make this dinner party a little more bearable. When you finish your glass, you reach for Elijah’s.

He raises a brow, shooting you an unimpressed look, “By all means, help yourself.”

You take a sip of the wine, ignoring Elijah, “Can we please get on with this dinner… I’m starved.”

“Well at least one of you is hungry… Stefan seems to have lost his appetite,” Klaus notes, nodding his head in Stefan’s direction.

Damon glances at his brother, gesturing with his fork, “Eat. I thought we agreed we’d leave the grumpy Stefan at home.”

Reluctantly, Stefan picks up his fork making Klaus smile, “That’s the spirit. Isn’t it nice? Five of us dining together? Such a treat. Is that what you had in mind when you pulled the dagger from my brother?”

Damon smiles sarcastically, “Well, I know how he felt about you, so I figured the more the merrier,” he winks playfully at Elijah.

“Well, Elijah and I have had our share of quarrels over the centuries… but we always make it through,” Klaus takes a bite of his steak.

“Kind of like you and Rebekah, right? Where is she, by the way? Last I checked, she was still daggered because you were afraid to face her,” Stefan quips, smirking over the rim of his bourbon glass.

Damon shoots a warning look at Stefan but you can’t be bothered by their conversation, you’re too focused on your bloody steak in front of you. Savoring the small amount of blood you’d get from its juices.

“If you’re referring to the fact Rebekah knows I killed our mother, I’ve already come clean to Elijah,” Klaus smiles at Elijah who has remained silent, resting his head on top of his fist.

“Hey Stef,” Damon cuts in, grabbing everyone’s attention, “remember when you killed dad? Might want to dial down on the judgement until dessert.”

You had been fighting the urge to lick the dish clean, hoping for just another drop of that delicious, bloody flavor. But Damon’s words distract you, making you look up from the plate.

“You killed dad?” you ask, looking directly at Stefan, he doesn’t verbally answer, only narrowing his eyes at you making you hum, “I always thought it was Katherine…” you fidget with your fork, pushing it across the plate. 

“You want another plate, love?” Klaus asks, his tone was sickeningly sweet, he snaps his fingers and a compelled blonde girl comes running to get your plate.

She leans over you, hair falling past her neck and you could feel the veins beneath your eyes begin to ripple. The girl's eyes widened, Klaus may have compelled her to do his bidding but he never compelled away her fear.

“Y/N,” Klaus says your name in a sing-songy tone, a warning.

Your lips part at the sound of her heart pumping, the smell of the blood in her veins, and your fangs begin to descend.

“Y/N. No,” Klaus tries again, setting his fork down.

But it was too late, you were out of your chair in a split second. You wrapped your hand around the girl’s neck, slamming her into the nearby wall hard enough to crack it, your other hand holding one of her wrists. You nearly moan at the taste of fresh blood, like an animal you can’t get enough.

Removing your hand from her neck, you flatten your palm and push the tip of chin up until it’s out of your way— effectively breaking her neck. You continue to drink, not caring as the blood stains your mouth and neck, dripping to your dress.

Klaus sighs, “One nice dinner, that’s all I ask, is that too much to ask for?”

He rises from his chair and speeds to stand behind you, “That’s enough.”

You don’t listen and Klaus decides there is only one solution to the problem he caused, snapping your neck. Your head is practically on backwards and he allows your body to fall to the ground next to the blonde, dead girl.

Damon stands up, his chair screeching but Stefan grabs his arm, dragging him back down, and Klaus clears his throat, walking back to the table as if he hadn’t just broke your neck.

Elijah sighs, excusing himself from the table, he picks up your body with ease and brings you back to the table, setting you in your seat. He twists your head so your head is facing the proper way, hoping that it’ll allow you to heal and wake sooner. The dinner would proceed as normal, other than Damon looking at your body every few seconds, it was as if nothing had happened.

When you woke, you were alone at the table and you could hear voices coming from the living room.

“Elijah… why haven’t you left?” Klaus sounds confused.

You stand up, finding your bearings.

You can hear the smugness in Elijah’s tone when he speaks, “You’ve lectured Y/N on her manners all night… but where are yours, brother? We forgot dessert.”

You take slow steps towards the living room.

“What have you done?” Klaus’ voice is panicked, he sounds betrayed.

“What have you done?” Elijah retorts, “You see, I’ve learned not to trust your vulgar promises, Klaus. We’re doing this on my terms now.”

You’ve nearly made it to the living room door way when you stop in your tracks after hearing Klaus utter a single word.

“Kol…”

“Long time brother.”

His voice, Kol’s voice. Your Kol, he was here, he was awake.

You rush to the doorway, freezing when you finally see him. Kol, he looked the same as he did on that fateful night in 1914, still wearing the same outfit. He still looked as beautiful as you remembered him to be, tears began to prick the corner of your eyes but not tears of sadness or fear, they were tears of joy.

You could see Stefan still by the fireplace where he had been burned, you could see Damon standing off to the side of Elijah, but it didn’t matter, you didn’t care about your brothers in that moment. It was as if everything around you faded away and it was just you and Kol.

“Kol…” you whisper, softly.

His gaze snaps up to find you, his eyes softening when he sees you.

“Y/N…”

Without giving it a second thought, Kol takes one of the hands restraining Klaus and uses it to snap the hybrids neck. He speeds towards you, something Damon takes note of but when he moves to get to you, to try and protect you from what he thinks is a threat; Elijah places his hand onto Damon’s chest, stopping him from moving.

You slowly bring your hands up to hold his face and he covers your hands with his, ”You’re real…” you breath out, you still couldn’t believe he was in front of you after all this time.

He smiles, chuckling a bit, “I’m real… and I’m not leaving you ever again.”

You smile, causing more tears to flow and you throw yourself into his arms, nuzzling your face into his neck, squeezing your eyes shut and welcoming the darkness that came with it because for the first time, in a century, you weren’t alone in the dark. You were with Kol, your Kol.

His arms wrap tightly around your waist, inhaling your scent that he remembers so fondly, “I missed you, my darling.”

It must have been those words that finally helped Damon connect the dots, that this was the boy, the one that changed your opinion on vampires, the one who turned you into a vampire. This was the boy you lost a century ago, the boy you’d do anything and everything to get back. Including betraying your own family.

“You’re free to go. This is family business.”

Elijah’s words made Damon realize something, you weren’t his family anymore, you hadn’t been for a long time. Maybe you never officially got married because you ran out of time but you were no longer Y/N Salvatore, you were Y/N Mikaelson. He can pinpoint the exact moment you stopped being his family and it was long before the Mikaelsons, it was when he and Stefan chose Katherine Pierce over you. That fateful night where he told you that you weren’t his family anymore.

The truth hurts and the truth was that there was no fixing your relationship with either of your brothers. The next few months would make that abundantly clear. Like when you snapped Damon’s neck after he snapped Kol’s. Or when you stood by while Kol beat Damon with an aluminum bat. And of course you stood by Rebekah when she had compelled and trapped everyone in the school. You even helped Kol slaughter all of the newly turned vampires meant for Jeremy… and you let Kol torture Damon.

So maybe you really weren’t their family anymore, maybe that’s why they wouldn’t feel as guilty about what was going to happen when Jeremy would kill Kol.

At least you wouldn’t be alone when the darkness came, you would die in the arms of your love in the middle of the Gilbert family kitchen. It didn’t matter to you that his body was still crackingly, still burning, you‘d endure the feeling of your flesh melting to his if it meant you got to hold him one last time. There would be no coming back for either of you, you knew this and accepted it. You closed your eyes and faded away into the darkness, welcoming it.

You only hoped that when you’d wake on the other side, you’d still be in Kol’s arms.

The Darkness.

The End.

[invincibledc]

DARK AGES

★ ; 🦇🍷. . ♱ BATFAMILY X VAMPIRE!READER

Summary: a dark shadowy figure runs around Gotham. But as the bat and birds try to figure out who they are, they don’t even know themselves.

Lights flicker around a dark figure, blood stains stained the carpet floor of two lovers who met their demise not too long ago. The dark figure wore black converses that were now bloodied, a black jacket and black denim jeans. The hood covered their entire face, only darkness was their face. It was clear they mostly wore black to hide the crimson blood. But the stench of fresh and old blood hung weary in the air. The figure disappeared into the shadows as their footsteps were heard on the creaky and wooden floors.

As they go to exit through the front door, something was thrown at them. They effortlessly dodged in a swift move. There was a boy who held ninja stars in between his fingers and a mean scowl amongst the tan face of his. The figure started to bounce against the walls, the new boy wonder tensed as it was like watching the exorcist. The way the person bounced against the walls his skin crawls oddly. Robin threw another round of ninja stars about bouncing against the walls along with you.

Dancing, that’s what it felt like between the figures. The figure clawed onto the wall. Their sharp nails pierced the wall before moving one leg quickly. Kicking the oncoming boy who went head first at them. Robin got up quickly, unsheathed his katana. With a warrior roar, he slashed down at the dark shadow. The shadow dodged each slash, grabbing the katana and pulling it towards them. Robin’s eyes widened he felt a fist connect to his throat. He dropped to his knees. Clutching his attacked throat. He tried to shake off the burning and painful sensation of that punch. But it was too strong.

And the figure was already gone.

The figure leaped against building to building. They already sensed four other people chasing them. One was certainly close behind, seeing blue and black on them as they flipped across roofs. Nightwing flipped in front of the running shadow, but the figure already turned around to only to be met with a person with a red helmet and gun.

“Surrender, and maybe I won’t put a bullet in you kid..” the low voice said as the figure stood still. Making it seem they were going to surrender as Nightwing walks up cautiously to apprehend the suspicious person. Before Nightwing can even touch them, the figure elbowed the vigilante in the rib. Nightwing groaned as the shadow grabbed the hero’s arm, pulling and pushing them in front of them. Red hood pointed his gun at the shadow, ready to take it down before he paused. He paused at the scene he was seeing as red glowing eyes emitted from the darkness within their hood. A chilling atmosphere arose the moment as Nightwing hissed at the pressure point in his arm getting pressed on. Nightwing was on his knees with the figure’s sharp nails against his neck.

Definitely a hostage situation, red hood slowly pressed a button on his helmet to alert the big bat about the situation that came too quick for him to progress. But before he can speak to the big man, the figure got impatient. Lifting up the adult man they held hostage and throwing him like a rag doll. Redhood fell to the ground with Nightwing on him, redhood pushed the man off him. Ready to shoot the bastard that dare throw his partner of this mission at him.

But of course the figure was gone without a trace.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Claws and Curses

Werewolf!Jason and Vampire!Reader. They’re best friends, your honor, even when Gotham gets weird. ~1.6k words

Being a vampire is hard. Seriously, five days of trying to adjust to sharpened fangs and claws has not been fun. You’re hungry almost constantly, and you can only take eating raw meat and draining the blood bags the GCPD has been giving out for so much longer.

On top of all that, you broke your bedroom door just by opening it. It hangs limply by its hinges now, and you haven’t gotten around to fixing it. You have no idea how metas with super strength deal with it.

You didn’t even get turned into a vampire the fun way. No, it wasn’t a bite that has you treating everything like it's made of glass but a curse. A witch with some sort of vendetta against Gotham cast a spell, and it left civilians, rouges, and heroes alike running around as monsters.

At first, it was funny, a day off of work wasn’t so bad, and you figured if Batman, who apparently got turned into some kind of wraith, couldn’t fix it, Red Hood would.

But by day three? You hadn’t heard from Jason once, and your boss was insistent that you could come back to work.

Day four, you still had radio silence from Jason, and Gotham was carrying on like Vicki Vale wasn’t delivering the morning news with snakes instead of hair and thick, heavy sunglasses hiding her eyes.

Day five, you were growing increasingly worried about Jason, and you were starting to wonder if you were gonna be stuck as a vampire forever.

Yeah, you had gotten used to opening doors without breaking them, but you had spent almost your entire shift trying to help one of your coworkers, who had been unlucky enough to transform into a yeti, try to deal with shedding. You were still trying to get tufts of white fur off your coat, even on your walk home.

You were so wrapped up in wondering if it was possible to curse a witch back, that you fail to notice the flock of harpies starting to box you in, eagerly trying to corral you into an alley.

They snap their talons at you, and it’s only then your attention focuses on the four bird-like creatures leering at you. “This is our territory,” one of them croons at you, sharp teeth glinting in the street lights, “and there’s a price to be here.”

Your mouth works before your brain does, and you tell them exactly what you think of their little power play, “That’s stupid.”

If they’re put out by your lack of fear, none of them show it. One of them inches forward, gesturing for your pockets, “Wallet and phone, unless you’d like for things to get ugly?”

Your lips curl into a frown. It would be smart to just hand over your things. You’re not exactly a seasoned fighter, and you’re not completely sure how durable vampires are in the face of other monsters.

A part of you wants to find out, to test how capable your strength and fangs and claws can really be.

You don’t get the opportunity to decide. A threatening growl fills the air, and as you whip your head towards the noise, as a large, intimidating werewolf stalks out of the alley behind you.

The harpies didn’t scare you. Most of the monsters you’ve seen haven't shaken you. But this one? He’s terrifying. Teeth and nails meant for shredding skin. Dark, matted fur, and eyes that seemed to glow. Just the sight of him is enough to have all your nerves on edge.

The flock behind you seems to feel the same way, and the air almost crackles with tension.

You’re not sure who moves first, if the wolf takes a step forward, or if the harpies turn to run from a clear apex predator, but someone moves, and your would-be assailants make themselves scarce before you’ve even registered they’re gone.

You half expect the werewolf to pounce, to hunt down the harpies, but he does neither. He sits himself down in front of you and gives you the most disappointed look you’ve ever seen, You didn’t even know wolves could make that face.

It’s then that you notice the clothes he’s wearing, the red bat emblem, the distinctive hooded vest. “No way,” you breathe out, unable to fight the grin spreading across your face, “Jason?”

He rolls his eyes at you, letting out a huff as if to say ‘Duh’.

“You’re a dog,” You point out, trying to keep the laughter out of your voice. Relief spreads over your body when he glares at your words. It really is good to see him alive, and just as expressive, even under the curse.

You reach out to scratch his ears, and he leans into your touch. They’re surprisingly soft under your fingers. “Shouldn’t we be fighting, or something?”

He blinks once, then twice. Jason lets out another low, almost indignant huff at your question. He lifts his head, questioning eyes locking onto yours as he waits for you to elaborate.

Your grin wider at him, almost teasing as you run your hand lazily over the fur on his head, “It’s just, aren’t werewolves and vampires sworn enemies? Shouldn’t you be trying to bite my fingers instead of going all lapdog on me?”

Jason’s ears flatten slightly, and he lets out a quiet, frustrated growl. It's clear that he doesn't appreciate the implication that he would harm you.

You laugh, moving to scratch under his chin, “Yeah, I know. Who cares about centuries of fighting and stereotypes when we have trash TV to watch together.”

His ears perk up at your words, and his tail starts to wag. He offers your hand a slobbery lick, which you make a face at. He grins at the offended noise you make, all teeth and mischief.

You pull your hand away, wiping the drool onto your clothes, tone accusing and playful all at once, “Now, I know the curse didn’t take your manners.”

He shrugs at you, at least as much as a werewolf can shrug, and starts walking towards your building. He glances over his shoulder expectantly, like he expects you to follow.

“Shouldn’t you be looking for that witch? Instead of walking me home,” you ask curiously, quickly catching up to him.

He leans into you a little, huffing in a way that’s so familiar you know he finds your question ridiculous.

You delight in how warm he is against your side, you’ve been running cold since the curse turned you. “I’m just saying,” you murmur, going quiet as you take in the fact that he’s really here. Your next confession slips out thoughtlessly, “I missed talking to you.”

His steps falter, and he turns his head to look at like you’ve said something important.

“Plus, I need you to fix my door,” you say quickly, embarrassed by your slip up, “Broke it with my vampire powers.” You waggle your pointed nails at him, voice light and teasing as you try to mask how much you actually have missed him.

You’re not sure if you’ve managed to convince him, but he keeps walking all the same. You make a note to look into jinxes to curse the witch when you get home.

You really do miss his voice, and the easy conversation that usually flows between you. You find it almost cruel that it’s been taken from you.

It’s that feeling that drives you to keep talking as you near your apartment, “You know you could come over, right? Even if we’re all still cursed? I can turn on that show we’re watching and help you with your fur.”

He has the audacity to look offended, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he stares you down with faux hurt.

You have a stifle a giggle at his face, “C’mon, have you even had a bath since this whole thing started? At least let me brush it out if you’re still furry tomorrow. Deal?”

He’s reluctant about it, you tell by the way his ears flick back, but he nods anyway.

“Knew you’d see it my way,” you say happily, and reach out to pet his head. His eyes close when you do, and you bite back a fond noise at how his tail starts to wag contently.

You begrudgingly drop your hand from his fur, and you almost start scratching him again when he actually whines over it. You don’t know how he does it, but he gives you perfect puppy dog eyes that almost melt your heart.

“Don’t give me that look,” you whine right back, “Don’t you have to go save Gotham or something?”

He seems to contemplate your words for a moment, then gives in, nudging your side as if to say goodbye.

He nuzzles your side, almost long enough that you start to say something, before he pulls away to leave. It almost reminds you of how animals mark their territory with their scent, but you brush away that thought as quickly as it forms.

“Hey,” you call out, stopping him before he gets too far, “Make sure you come over, okay? Even if you still smell like dog.”

He grins at you and yips before disappearing into the Gotham night. You take it for the promise it is, and, as you head inside your apartment building, you wonder if he’ll be interested in the dog treats you keep around for Haley and Ace.

The idea makes you laugh, and for the first time since the curse took its hold on Gotham, you almost want to wake up as a vampire tomorrow, if only for the chance to tease your best friend.

[gothmoes]

𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐯𝐚

❥ pairing: Wednesday Addams x fem!vampire!Reader

❥ wc: 3,7k

❥ summary: Wednesday had taken the initiative to surprise you with an date evening together. You, however, were nowhere to be found, and the loss of your presence made Wednesday miss you threw a wrench into her carefully thought out plans. Unacceptable.

❥ warnings: terrible, entirely self-indulgent writing. lots of swapping between povs

❥ a/n: thank you to my wonderful beta readers! your efforts and input were much appreciated xx

It was late at night when you hauled yourself up your balcony and finally made it through your window. One glance at the grandfather clock read 1:46 am; okay, you thought, grimacing, so it’s early morning the next day, Saturday. Great.

Under normal circumstances, the halls would have been abuzz with secret parties and sleepovers to welcome the weekend, starting Friday night. Due to your busy exam week, even the few students who had the energy to celebrate on Friday were now in their rooms, trying to recuperate some of their lost sleep and accumulated exhaustion. It seemed you were the only one awake on school grounds now. You would’ve been more appreciative about this if you weren’t so worn out yourself.

Your shoes squelched with each step you took further into your bedroom, and the sensation of the cold water pooling in your soles made you cringe and shudder with discomfort. 

A wide puddle from your jacket, heavy and drenched with rainwater, formed beneath you. You peeled it off, cursing it beneath your breath as you did, so much for a raincoat. You did nothing to protect me from the unforgiving elements. You tossed it through your bathroom door and into your bathtub to wring out later, revealing your equally soaked-through second layer. Being thoroughly wet from the rain made the ever-present coldness in your bones seep even more profound, almost freezing. Your bloodstained shirt, jeans, and, finally, your boots followed swiftly, hitting the tub with a booming thud. 

Most of that outfit is ruined for good, you mused as you pulled a clean hoodie over your head, too exhausted to wash up properly, but that's a problem for future me. 

For a moment, you considered your reflection in the mirror. The only light in your room was that of the moon, illuminating the centre of your chambers with its phantasmal glow. Beyond the centre, however, pitch black consumed the room. Shadows cast by the furniture stretched and bent around you in strange shapes, enveloping you with their cold and unforgiving embrace. 

You sighed quietly, the serenity of the night like the comfort of a dear friend, and some of the tension you amassed from the day lifted from your shoulders. 

Despite the darkness, the dried blood on your hands and the specks on your face were visible to you. With your hunger sated, the smell of the blood was no longer appetising. Instead, something in the pit of your stomach churned, disgust curling your lips as you scraped the crust off your knuckles. 

“Welcome home.” 

You heard the voice before you saw the person, which was especially impressive when considering your perfect vision in total darkness and inhuman auditory capabilities. The magnitude of this accomplishment ended as soon as you considered who the culprit was. If any human could sneak up on a vampire, it would be her.

An unnatural warmth bloomed from the cavity in your chest at the thought, something akin to pride, spreading like wildfire to your extremities.

The figure shifted from the farthest corner of your room, rising from the leather chair behind your desk. It took shape as it moved through the shadows slowly and deliberately. The form that stood before you had the appearance of the most darling earthly creature in all the realms—your ultimate weakness. If you had a heart, it would have leapt straight out of your chest and into Wednesday’s hands. 

Oh, how you’d missed those reproachful eyes. 

“Well, hello.” You greeted them with disgraceful breathiness and glimmering eyes, “My beloved blood drop, you should be in bed.”

If looks could kill, you would’ve been six feet under already. As Wednesday stared you down, the thought that she would not entirely be against driving a stake through your heart crossed your mind. Again. It was undoubtedly her go-to threat for swift correction, and she always kept hers on hand. So cute.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Wednesday said tersely, ignoring how your stupid nickname caused a hitch in her breath. You did not react. Wise. “You missed classes today. Where were you?” 

“Hunting,” was the only reply you could muster as you gazed upon her with that sickeningly tender look. 

Wednesday’s hands clenched into fists at her side, nostrils flaring almost unnoticeably. That’s it? That’s all you had to say? 

Wednesday couldn’t quite describe the wretched emotions that drove her to madness throughout the day; too many had happened too fast for her, but she cut you an affronted glare all the same. At the end of the day, the fact was that you’d thrown her wildly off balance with your sudden shift in routine. You forced her to notice your absence. But worst of all, you made her feel and weren’t there to help her deal with those strange and overwhelming emotions. 

Now, she was standing before you, and those unbearable feelings continued. 

That was simply unacceptable.

“You…” Wednesday stopped and pursed her lips, her gaze sliding from your eyes to roam across your face. She’d spent the better part of the night sitting alone in the shadows of your room, going over all the creative ways to make you regret abandoning her for a whole day with those idiots you called friends. Still, she had failed to mull over how to ask her interrogative questions without sounding so damn needy. You didn’t deserve to hear how desperate she was to see you. 

Not yet, anyway. 

“You failed to notify me of your absence today,” she gritted between clenched teeth. Her eyes, black as obsidian, bore into yours unflinchingly through her lashes. “I-You were supposed to be there, yet you left me alone with all of them.”

There was an edge of irritability to Wednesday’s tone, which became even more apparent by her rigid stance and the unusually rapid drum of her heart. Still, something was just under the surface that you couldn’t quite place. Her brows met with the tiniest crinkle, her lips set straight. She tilted her head the slightest bit, chin angled up—her eyes a raging fire.

That atrocious flip-flopping in your belly returned with the vengeance of a dozen bats wreaking havoc in your rib cage.

“I know.” You eventually acknowledged her words with an apologetic smile. You dared to rub circles over her crossed arms with a feather-light touch. Thankfully, she didn’t attempt to hack off your hand (this time). The lack of Wednesday in your day and the space between you was abysmal and all-consuming and had obviously taken its toll on you. You needed to feel Wednesday’s warmth against you or feared you might disintegrate right where you stood. 

“I didn’t anticipate needing to go hunting today,” you continued, filing those alarming desires away for inspection later. “It just… happened. I had that ravenous hunger when I awoke; the blood bags did nothing to satiate it. I needed to feed from something raw and unprocessed as soon as possible.” Your fang caught on your lip, brows furrowed. 

A hungry vampire loose at a school would have been catastrophic. No matter how annoying, those students were your friends, not food. Even worse was the possibility that you could have hurt Wednesday. You shivered; the idea that you were merely one wrong decision away from being responsible for something so horrific froze you from the inside out with a bitter coldness not even death could match.

As you explained, Wednesday took an imperceptible step closer, pressing more of herself into the weight of your hand as her eyes studied you again from head to toe. She was undeniably seething, but her eyes had softened. She knew the exact moment it happened because the emotions that had driven her for most of the day, which were as robust and tumultuous as the ocean, gave way to an equally strong sense of unease.

Wednesday’s brain computed your unspoken concern. She hated how fast she deflated at the flash of fear that crossed your eyes. You were never easily frightened, less so than herself, so seeing that agitation on your face made the pit of her stomach heavy with lead. 

Wednesday’s hand shot out to fist the front of your shirt, effectively breaking you out of that train wreck of a notion before you could truly get lost going down that path. She yanked you down close enough that your noses brushed, with so much force you would have knocked into her if it weren’t for your vampiric reflexes. She ignored your small huff of complaint and cupped your jaw sternly, thumb stroking the dried flecks of blood from your cheeks with uncharacteristic care. 

A stray thought wandered into Wednesday’s mind as she regarded you, something wholly distracting involving the sight of you with the blood of your prey still on your body and the elongated fangs still peeking out between your teeth, further proof of your successful kill and your capabilities as a top predator. She forced the thought away with a slight shake of her head.

“You should have told me.” Wednesday’s palm flattened over your cheek, her eyes glinting. Her voice had lost its edge as she closed the space between your bodies, stressing, “I would have helped.” 

You shook your head immediately, pulling a frown from Wednesday’s lips.

“I know,” you murmured, pulling her hand from your cheek to lace your fingers through hers. You delivered a kiss to the slender fingers, and the tender gesture pulled an involuntary shiver from Wednesday, her traitorous body spiking with heat that crawled up her neck. “I know you would have helped if I’d told you, Wednesday, but I couldn’t risk hurting you. I was out of control. Seeing you before I fed was absolutely out of the question.”  

Wednesday’s jaw clenched. She felt like she was five seconds away from stomping her foot. 

Your decision was level-headed, and your actions had been driven by reason. You’d done what was safest for the school and, most importantly, Wednesday. However, you had ripped out the part of herself that she’d carefully hidden away behind the safety of a concrete tower reinforced with steel and forced her to face you—to face the feelings for you that had taken root in her heart and continuously grew like a parasitic infection; that part of her still held your decision against you because you left her for a whole day. 

Not for the first time, Wednesday had to acknowledge that she was well and indeed done for. You’d spoiled her rotten, and now she couldn’t even bear the thought of being without you for one day without wanting to rain retribution down upon you. It-no, she was pathetic. 

Wednesday breathed in deeply through her nose, eyes fluttering closed. “I understand,” she said tightly, “I just—” the rest of her words lodged pathetically in her throat, growing thorns that prickled her skin. She didn’t speak again, though. She swallowed hard, brows furrowing with annoyance as her eyes roved across your face wantonly. 

“I know,” you spoke for the two of you, and your eyes conveyed your understanding. You reached out to bring Wednesday close, guiding her into your space by her hand. “I missed you dearly, my blood drop.” 

Wednesday stiffened for a moment, out of a lifelong habit more than anything, before slackening. She wrapped her arms around your middle and burrowed her face into you, her cold nose finding home in the cool flesh of your neck. Instantly, the raging sea of emotions in her chest quelled, tempered by your soothing embrace. With the familiarity of your scent, the noise in her mind quieted. 

“I would never leave without telling you first unless the situation was dire. You know that, right?” Your words were muffled, spoken into Wednesday’s temple, but she heard them clearly.

Wednesday nodded slightly and sighed. Of course, she knew that. Hearing you say it to her was reassuring in a way she couldn’t verbalise, but she was glad you understood that about her; she was glad for you. 

“No matter what, I’ll always come back to you. I promise.” You ended your promise with a chaste kiss on her forehead, the freckled space between her brows. 

Wednesday abhorred how effortlessly, thoughtlessly, she leaned into your lips, chasing more of your affections. Her fingers dug into your sides, lashes fluttering shut as she mumbled, “I know.”

“I’m still sorry I left you,” you carried on, an edge of mirth in your tone. “I can’t imagine how dreadfully joyous your day without me was.”

“You should be.” Wednesday sneered, but there was no weight to her words. She couldn’t make herself fake it through her unsuccessful attempt to crawl into your hoodie. “Enid tried to make me smile.”

“How dare she!” you responded with appropriate appallment. 

“She almost managed to when she tripped over Thing.” Wednesday sighed, giving up for the time being. You weren’t particularly helpful in her endeavour, but she swore she would be back in her rightful place nestled on your chest for bedtime. “It was awful.”

“Ghastly. Would you like me to maim them for you?” you asked as you wrapped your arms around her again.

Wednesday was glad for the protection of your chest. She couldn’t hide the smile that curled her lips at your earnest offer. She weighed her options carefully. 

“Not unless you can do that without leaving again.”

“A later time then,” you said. “Just say when, and I’ll be on them like a vulture on a carcass.”

For a while, you stood in the middle of your room, underneath the moonlight, with Wednesday tucked securely into your chest. You swayed gently from side to side, making a thick fog roll over the edges of Wednesday’s mind, your steadying breaths against her cheek lulling her deeper and deeper into an enticing abyss. 

As you moved, you faintly hummed an eerie and reposeful melody, your mind fuzzy with contentment. You periodically nuzzled your cold nose into Wednesday, breathing her in with an animalistic instinct until you had her scent committed on a cellular level. The specific flutter of her heart and draw of her breath was ingrained into you already; you could pick her out of a crowd of a thousand blood bags by that alone, but you never tired of feeling her heartbeat, hearing her breaths, and smelling the scent that was unmistakably hers—all signs of her liveliness and health.

You were making gentle circles over Wednesday’s back when suddenly, you stiffened. “Wait a minute,” you muttered, breaking the silence. 

Wednesday lazily opened her eyes to peer at you. She hummed in askance, an adorably feline noise, and blinked blearily, big eyes glossy with sleep. 

“You're wearing your outdoor clothes.” You pulled back, creating a space between your bodies, much to Wednesday’s chagrin, and assessed her outfit thoroughly. She was bewitching, as per usual, but she was dressed in her ‘investigation’ outfit, something practical but wholly uncomfortable. You arched a brow. “What were you doing in my room when I came in? Did you stay up… waiting for me to come back?” 

Wednesday’s face turned passive at your question, eyes sliding away from yours to tack onto something beyond you on your desk—Oh, look. That’s where she left her stake. No wonder her pockets felt so light. 

Truthfully, she’d forgotten about this part of her day after you delved into your explanation for your absence. It took her a long minute to answer, but the sweet smile on your lips never faltered. 

“After classes,” she began, pursing her lips in the way that made her dimples visible for a fraction of a second, “I thought you’d be back by then. The weather forecast for tonight was prime for a night out. Cold rain and thick fog.” 

Wednesday paused as you stroked your thumb over the crease that had formed between her brows, loosening the tightness in her face. She could feel the intensity of your gaze on her. She had your undivided attention. She bit her bottom lip, forcing her eyes to meet yours, and let herself freefall into the sentiments that the utter devotion in your eyes conveyed. 

“After this week of exams, I believed you might fancy spending the night together in private. I thought you might appreciate it even more if it came unexpectedly.” 

Wednesday would never know how the countenance of a creature as impure as you could regard her with such affection and devotion. All she knew was that her parents would be beside themselves with pride and joy at what she’d found here at Nevermore. She’d never live down the humiliation of eating her own words. Damn you.

“A date.” Came your breathless whisper, eyes widening. Wednesday could practically see the moment the stake of realisation pierced through your undead heart. “W-Wednesday,” you murmured, voice cracking, “What did you have planned?”

“Grave digging,” she muttered, ears growing hot. 

“Grave digging—your favourite. You wanted to do it together?” your grip on Wednesday tightened so much it was almost painful. She welcomed the ache. It gave her something other than the downright devastation in your eyes to focus on. Wednesday returned her head to your neck and nodded. 

The blood you’d consumed earlier bubbled up your oesophagus. You weren't there when Wednesday wanted to take you on a surprise date—the first she’d ever planned for you. The stake twisted deeper, cutting through you like a serrated knife. Your eyes gleamed with something Wednesday hated to see. 

Vampires weren’t supposed to be able to do that. Right?

Still, something about your reaction warmed Wednesday from the inside out, and she scoffed to hide the slight sound of amusement that threatened to leave her lips. You were as theatrical as you were romantic. You were such an Addams. 

“Wednesday,” you croaked ruefully, “I’m so sorry. I would’ve never missed out on such an important—”

Wednesday cut you off with a finger to your lips. “I know.”

“I’m here now,” you continued, kissing her finger as you spoke. Your eyes were pleading. “Would you still like to go? We can leave right now if you wish. Just say the words.”

Wednesday sighed, curling a hand around the back of your neck to mash your lips together, effectively silencing you. “Shut up,” she muttered darkly against your lips. “You’re rambling.”

“M’kay,” you said weakly.

Wednesday’s hand released you, but neither of you moved to separate. She smoothed her hands over your shoulders, mapping out the powerful muscles underneath your annoyingly enticing skin. 

“No,” she said, the shake of her head making her bangs bounce. “Grave digging can wait. I want to be here,” she stabbed her pointer finger into your chest. “Where I belong.”

“In my… heart? You already stole it,” came your cheeky reply.

Wednesday rolled her eyes, unable to hide the pleased curl of her lips. She didn’t bother reminding you that you didn’t have a heart, a beating one, anyway, and pressed on, braver now that you’d made a fool of yourself more than she ever could. 

“In your bed, in your arms, on your chest.” Wednesday purposely enunciated every word with another forceful poke of your chest, her gaze assured. 

“Oh… Well, aren’t you a demanding little thing?” you chuckled and took Wednesday’s hand in yours. 

“I could kill you.” 

“I know.” Your eyes had that soft look again, and your smile was delicate. It was, dare she say, adorable the way your fangs poked into your lips. “You don’t need to keep wooing me. I’m already yours.”

“An Addams never stops,” Wednesday quipped, brushing past you. She shed her jacket and toed off her boots, leaving them folded on a chair by your desk as she made for your closet with the air of a girl who was right at home. “Get used to it.”

As Wednesday rummaged through your wardrobe, you sat on the edge of your bed with a lovesick grin. Wednesday had such a way of livening up your room that it no longer felt like your home without her. You lived here, and you had for years; the objects in this room were all yours, from the enormous canopy bed to your clothes and books and the tiniest miscellaneous trinkets adorning your shelves. Yet, everything here undoubtedly belonged to Wednesday—everything, including you. 

Wednesday knew that. It was evident how she moved throughout your room like she owned the place. You were more than satisfied with this.

Seeing her reemerge in your sleep clothes to take a seat at your vanity table made the ghost of something warm and heavy, a heart, or maybe a soul? Thump swiftly against your ribcage, sending an electric shock through your veins. You appeared behind Wednesday in a flash and stilled one of her hands from their work of undoing her ties. You fingered the end of a braid and met her curious eyes through the mirror with a hesitant smile. 

“May I help?” you asked with unexpected shyness. 

Wednesday froze, evidently taken aback by your question, but nodded, the corner of her lips curling up the slightest bit. Your touch was featherlight as you removed the bands securing her hair, each touch purposeful and gentle. She nearly closed her eyes as your fingers nimbly undid her braids before raking through her scalp with the brush to loosen the waves. She did several times briefly, but she couldn’t bear missing the way you so delicately touched her. It had been long since anyone else had handled Wednesday’s hair. She nearly purred. Shameful.

“Breathtaking,” you whispered, awed at the sight of the raven hair cascading down Wednesday’s back in silken, inky waves. You kissed the top of Wednesday’s head, cold hands cradling her jaw reverently. Wednesday shivered. She angled her chin high, a hand coming behind your head to pull you into a kiss. “Bedtime now?”

This time, Wednesday had nothing to say, but she clung to your neck and let you pick her up.

Once you were both finally in bed, Wednesday wasted no time burying into you, just as she had promised. Wednesday released a deep breath as her eyelids grew heavy and her limbs relaxed. Your cold lips were pressed against her forehead, and your fingers carded gently through her hair. Your touch was cold like ice and gentle as death's embrace, more soothing and comfortable than any morgue she could ever sneak into. She fell asleep promptly with a final murmur of your name and admission of affection on her lips.

[slut4megantheestallion]

──Crimson Devotion

Trueform! Sukuna ���� Original Vampire!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

warnings. fem! reader, vampire!reader (Reader is an original) heian era, trueform! Sukuna, smut, rough sex, cockwarming, degradation, possessiveness, fingering, blood drinking, mention of compulsion,finger sucking, edging, Overstimulation, light Aftercare, multiple orgasms, Dom!sukuna.

You had been in Ryomen Sukuna's service for years, though it felt like mere days in the grand span of your immortal existence. Time had little meaning to you after living for over a thousand years. You had seen empire rise and crumble, witnessed men become legends before turning to dust. And yet, in all that time, nothing fascinated you quite like him.

Sukuna was unlike any other being you had encountered. Humans feared him, sorcereers despised him, and even curses cowered in his presence. He was destruction incarnate - both a man and a monster, adorned with four roving eyes and a grin that promised ruin.

You had chosen power to serve him for one reason alone: Power.

As an Original vampire, you were an apex predator, feared in your own right. But cursed energy was something beyond even your kind's understanding. It thrived in ways that defied nature, and Sukuna was its pinnacle. You needed to learn from him, to study him, to determine whether such power could be wielded against your enemies- or if it was a threat to your existence.

Sukuna had accepted you into his court without question, though he regarded you with mild intrigue. Unlike his concubines and warriors, you did not flinch under his gaze, nor did you shrink in fear when he turned his attention to you. You were beautiful, yes- so much so that even his followers whispered about the ethereal maiden in his presence. But there was something else.

Something unnatural.

He noticed it almost immediately. The way you moved too gracefully, too effortlessly, like a wraith gliding through his halls. The way your skin reminded flawless, untouched by time or battle, despite having lived through so much bloodshed. The way you indulged in the lavish feasts at his table yet never seemed to be sustained by them, your appetite always restrained, as if something else - something unseen - was what truly fed you.

Sukuna was not a patient man, but he was a curious one. And curiosity for him always led to something dangerous.

Despite the many souls that lingered within Sukuna's domain, you remained an enigma. You were neither servant nor concubine, not bound to him in the ways others were. He had not claimed you, nor had he given you a position of true power, yet you stood above the others.

A maiden, they called you. Untouched. Pure. Otherworldly.

It was ironic. You were far from innocent, having left a trail of blood and ruin across centuries. And yet, the image suited you well- the delicate, untouchable beauty draped in silks finer than what even his concubines wore. The way men gazed upon you, only to avert their eyes in shame. The way women envied you, whispering about how Sukuna never laid a hand on you, despite keeping you close.

He liked that you unsettled them.

But more than that, you unsettled him.

Sukuna was not the kind of man who tolerated uncertainty. He conquered, he devoured, he took what he wanted without hesitation. And yet, with you, there was restraint. Not by choice, no- had you been like the others, he would have had you beneath him long ago, ruined, and marked beyond recognition.

But you were not like the others.

And that fascinated him.

There were moments - brief, fleeting moments - where he thought he might have glimpsed something beyond the facade. The flicker of hunger in your eyes when blood was spilled in the arena. The way your breath hitched when a warrior collapsed, his lifeblood seeping into the dirt. The way your lips parted, as if some long-forgotten instinct was clawing to the surface, demanding to be fed

Sukuna had never been one to deny indulgence. He thrived in gluttony, in excess, in the destruction of self restraint. And yet, you resisted.

You did not falter. You did not break.

Until the night, he caught you.

── დ ──

It was feast time in the grand hall, the scent of roasted meats and spiced wine thick in the air. The low hum of conversation blended with drunken laughter, the sounds of pleasure and indulgence filling the space. Servants scurried refilling goblets, bringing forth more food, ensuring none of Sukuna's favored suffered even a moment of dissatisfaction.

At the head of it all, Sukuna sat on his throne, legs spread lazily, a golden chalice in one of his four hands while the others toyed with the concubines vying for his attention. They draped themselves over him like silk, whispering sweet praises, offering themselves as though they were gifts to be unwrapped. Their fingers traced over his skin, their lips pressed again his arms, his shoulders, hoping to be chosen tonight.

But his mind was elsewhere.

You had not come to the feast.

It was not unusual - you often avoided these gluttonous displays, never outright refusing his invitation, but always making some excuse to slip away before the night fell into drunken debauchery, Sukuna let it slide, entertained by the challenge you unknowingly posed. But tonight, something felt different.

He watched his concubines drown themselves in wine, their bodies swaying with intoxicated ease. The celebration carried on, loud and frenzied, yet his focus lingered beyond the candlelight hall, where the torches no longer reached.

Where were you?

One of his concubine - young, delicate, with flushed cheeks from too much wine - staggered away from the group, giggling as she slipped past the drunken guards. Likely searching for air, or perhaps to steal a moment of rest before returning to her master's side.

She was alone. Vulnerable.

And in the shadows, you watched.

You had been lingering in the corridors, unseen, as you always were. But tonight, hunger gnawed at you in ways you could no longer ignore. The scent of blood - hot, rich, laced with wine - called to you, sharp as a blade against your senses. You had fed recently, but not enough. Never enough. The restraint you prided yourself on wavered, a beast within you stirring, aching, demanding release.

You followed her.

Your steps were silent, effortless, as you stalked through the dimly lit halls. She was oblivious, humming softly to herself, her pulse loud in your ears.

Sukuna, still seated on his throne, lifted his goblet to his lips- but then he stilled.

His four eyes narrowed.

He felt something shift in the air. Something primal. Something predatory.

His lips curled.

So this was it.

This was what you had been hiding.

And he was going to see it for herself.

── დ ──

The young concubine wandered further into the dimly lit corridor, the drunken haze in her mind dulling her senses. Her silk robe swayed as she moved, bare feet padding softly against the cool stone. She had no destination- perhaps she sought a moment of solitude away from the rowdy feast, or maybe she was simply lost.

But she was not alone.

You followed soundlessly, a shadow moving between the flickering torches. You could hear the steady drum of her heartbeat, the sluggish pull of her breath as the wine thickened her blood. She smelled sweet, ripe- a perfect temptation laid bare before you.

Your hunger, once controlled, now prowled within you like a caged beast.

It had been too long. You had denied yourself for too long.

The game began

You let the tips of your fingers graze again the stone walls, just loud enough for the sound to reach her ears. The soft scrape sent a shiver down her spine, her steps faltering.

She turned, brows furrowed. "Hello?"

Silence.

A beat passed. She swallowed, shaking her head at herself, before taking another step forward.

You moved faster. This time, a whisper- so faint, so ghostly - brushed against her ear.

"Are you lost?"

She gasped, whirling around. Nothing.

Her breath quickened. The hallway stretched long and empty before her, the candlelight casting shifting shadows along the walls. A chill ran down her spine, the once- comforting haze of wine replaced by something colder.

Something wrong.

She hurried forward, her steps uneven, the quiet pressing in around her. She could feel eyes on her, a presence lurking just beyond sight.

And then-

"Boo."

You were suddenly there.

She shrieked, stumbling back, hands clutching her chest. Her wide eyes met yours, and then she exhaled a breath of relief, laughing shakily.

"Oh gods, it's just you." She tried to steady herself, but something about the way you stood- the way you watched her- made her skin prickle.

You didn't speak.

Didn't blink.

You simply stood there, still as death, your face bathed in flickering torchlight.

The concubine swallowed thickly, shifting uncomfortably under your stare. She had always feared you, though she never admitted it aloud. There was something off about you, something that unsettled her in ways he couldn't explain.

"You scared me," she tried to joke, forcing a small laugh. "What are you doing all the way out here?"

Still, you did not answer.

Her fingers twitched at her sides. Something isn't right.

Before she could take another step back, your voice finally came.

"Don't move."

The words weren't spoken- they were woven into her mind, sinking deep, commanding.

Her body locked in place.

Her lips parted, but no sound came.

Panic flared in her wide, helpless eyes as she realized- she couldn't move. She couldn't screm. She was trapped within herself, unable to do anything but feel.

Feel your fingers brushing her hair aside.

Feel your lips ghost over her pulse.

Feel the sharp, piercing pain as your fangs sank into her flesh.

Her muffled whimper vibrated against your mouth, her body trembling as warmth flooded your tongue.

And god- the taste~

It was ecstasy. It was fire and silk, rich and intoxicating, sweeter than the finest wine served at Sukuna's feast. The pleasure of it curled through your veins, deep and consuming, a hunger you had denied for far too long finally being sated.

Her body slackened, her pulse fluttering under your hold.

You moaned softly, drinking deep, savoring, every drop as her life poured into you.

She was yours.

Completely and utterly-

"Well, well."

A voice, low and amused, shattered the moment.

Your eyes snapped open, fangs still buried deep, as the presence of another loomed behind you.

A shadow cast in red and black.

A smile lined with sharp teeth.

Sukuna.

── დ ──

His voice was deep, threaded with amusement, but beneath it lay something darker- something possessive.

Your body tensed. The concubine in your arms was nearly limp, her pulse weak but still present, your fangs still buried in the soft flesh of her neck. You could feel Sukuna's gaze burning into you, devouring every detail- the way your lips were stained crimson, the way blood dripped down your chin, trailing past your throat to pool at the swell of your breasts.

Slowly, you withdrew your fangs, licking the punctures clean, sealing the wound with a flick of your tongue. The concubine let out a soft, breathless whimper, her body slumping as you finally released her.

A heavy silence hung between you.

Sukuna stepped forward.

Your breath hitched - not in fear, but in something else, something dangerous.

"You've been keeping secrets from me, maiden." His voice silk over steel, teasing yet edged with something sharp.

You turned to face him, eyes dark with hunger still not fully satisfied. "And you've been watching me."

He smirked. "Oh, don't look so surprised. Did you really think I wouldn't notice?"

His four eyes roved over you, drinking in the sight - your heaving chest, the flush of pleasure still fading from your cheeks, the way your pupils were dilated with bloodlust. He inhaled, catching the lingering scent of the concubine's life essence on your lips.

"And here I thought nothing could surprise me anymore," he mused.

You wiped the corner of your mouth with your thumb, unfazed. "Does this not frighten you, my lord?" You took a step closer, deliberately slow, watching his gaze darken. "Or does this excite you?"

His grin widened.

"Come here."

The words weren't a request. They were a summon.

But you didn't move.

Sukuna's amusement flickered into something sharper, something more demanding. His four arms flexed, muscles coiling like a predator about to strike. "Now."

Still, you met his gaze without wavering. The tension between you thickened, charged, stretching unbearably tight.

And then, in a blur of motion, he was on you.

Faster than you expected, faster than a mortal should be- one of his hands wrapped around your throat, another grabbing your waist, pulling you flush against him. The heat of his body was intoxicating, his scent laced with wine, blood, and something purely him.

"That little display back there," he murmured, voice dark and velvety as his thumb brushed over your racing pulse. "It was entertaining."

His lips hovered dangerously close to yours, teasing, taunting. "The way you drank from her... the little moans you made." He chuckled, low and deep. "Do you even realize how beautiful you looked?"

Your breath shuddered.

His grip tightened, not enough to hurt- just enough to remind you who was in contact now.

"And yet," he continued, his tongue darting out to lick a stray drop of blood from your collarbone, "You didn't come to me first."

You swallowed, pulse quickening.

Sukuna smirked.

"Tomorrow afternoon. My throne room."

His voice held no room for argument.

You tilted your chin up slightly, not willing to appear submissive. "And if I don't come?"

His smirk widened. "Then I'll come find you myself."

With that, he released you, stepping back, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before turning away.

You stood still, watching as he walked off, leaving you alone in the corridor.

Tomorrow.

Whatever he had planned, you knew it would be dangerous.

And yet... you couldn't help but anticipate it.

── დ ──

The next afternoon

You had spent the entire day in your chambers, the heavy drapes drawn shut, isolating yourself from the world outside.

Yet no mater how still you sat, no matter how you willed your mind to silence, you couldn't stop thinking about last night.

The warmth of fresh blood trickling down your throat, the way the concubine's pulse had fluttered beneath your lips like a caged bird before it slowed... the way Sukuna watched you, his gaze dark with something you couldn't quite name.

You had fed.

You had savored.

Any yet.. it hadn't been enough.

A dull ache thrumned beneath your ribs, hunger curling are your senses like smoke, whispering, tempting-more, you need more.

You exhaled sharply, trying to suppress the gnawing craving, but it lingered, stubborn and insatiable.

Then, a knock at the door.

It was faint, yet you heard it as clearly as if it had been a thunderclap.

You straightened, smoothing down your robe before moving to the door, unlocking it with a soft click.

Uraume stood before you, their expression unreadable as always, yet there was a glint of knowing in their cold eyes.

"Master Sukuna requests your presence."

Your fingers twitched at your side's.

It wasn't a request.

You knew this summons was inevitable, and yet, a silver of unease slithered down your spine. Sukuna was not a man to summon something without a purpose.

And you already knew what this was about.

Still, you maintained your composure, tilting your chin slightly. "Of course."

Without another word, Uraume turned on their heel, leading you down the vast corridors of Sukuna's domain. The air was thick with the scent of incense and faint traces of blood, the dim lighting casting long, shifting shadows along the walls.

Your heartbeat was steady, but your mind was racing.

Last night, Sukuna had seen you.

And he had not been repulsed.

No, he had been entertained.

Something inside you told you that today was a test - a game in which the rules were his to control.

As you entered the throne room, your eyes imma found him.

Sukuna lounged upon his grand throne, the golden light of the torches flickering over his tattooed skin, casting sharps shadows across his sculpted form. His robe was loose, draped over his powerful frame, his four arms resting lazily at his sides.

And beside him, a concubine knelt.

Your gaze flickered to her, she was adorned in delicate silk, her skin flushed from the wine she had no doubt been given, her breaths slightly uneven. She wasn't looking at you- her head was bowed in reverence towards Sukuna, awaiting his attention.

You frowned slightly.

This was different.

Sukuna was not one for subtlety. If he had summoned you here with a concubine present, it was for a reason.

His eyes locked onto yours the moment you entered, sharp and unreadable, but that smirk-that damned smirk- was still carved onto his lips.

"So you did decide to come," he drawled, amusement lacing his tone.

You remained poised, meeting his gaze with cool indifference. "You summoned me, my lord. It would be unwise to ignore such a call."

His smirk widened slightly, his fingers tapping idly against the armrest of his throne.

"Mm. Obedient today, aren't we?" His voice was deceptively casual, but you could feel the weight of his scrutiny, the way his eyes traced over your form as if searching for something unseen.

You did not respond.

He exhaled a short chuckle, his gaze flickering towards the concubine at his side.

"Tell me, my little maiden... does she tempt you?"

The words were unexpected.

Your brow furrowed slightly. "What?"

Sukuna's hummed, shifting slightly in his seat, his many arms flexing lazily. "Does she tempt you?" He gestured toward the concubine with an elegant flick of his fingers.

The woman remained still, unmoving, but you could hear the steady thrum of her heartbeat, the scent of her blood mingling with the rich perfume of incense in the air.

Your throat tightened.

You knew what he was doing.

Your hunger from last night had never truly been sated, and Sukuna knew it.

He was testing you.

You kept your expression smooth. "If this is meant to be some sort of trick, my lord, it is a poor one."

He laughed at that, low and indulgent, like he found your resistance adorable.

And then, before you could react, one of his hands moved.

A sharp slash of his clawed fingers- and the scent of blood filled the air.

You inhaled sharply.

The concubine gasped, her body trembling as a thin, precise line of blood bloomed across her throat- not deep enough to be fatal, but deep enough to bleed.

Rich, warm, fresh.

Your breath hitched.

Sukuna watched you, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips.

"Go on," he murmured, his voice low, dangerous, and dripping with amusement. "Drink."

A shiver danced down your spine.

He was playing with you.

Tempting you.

Daring you.

The hunger inside you roared, the scent of fresh blood stirring something deep, primal in your core.

You clenched your fists. "You're cruel, Sukuna."

He grinned. "Oh? But you don't seem very disgusted, maiden. In fact..." He leaned forward, resting his chin upon one of his hands, voice like a purr, "I think you want it."

You swallowed hard.

The concubine whimpered, swaying slightly, her eyes glassy from wine and pain.

You could hear the blood pulsing from her wound, calling to you, enticing, inviting.

And then Sukuna's voice, teasing, coaxing.

"Drink, little vampire. Show me what you really are."

Your breathing was shallow.

You were losing control.

And he knew it.

── დ ──

The moment the scent of fresh blood fully filled your senses, your control snapped.

Your veins darkened, creeping like ink beneath your skin, eyes glowing a deep, predatory crimson. Your fangs fully extended, gleaming under the dim torchlight, and your lips curled into something no longer human- a hungry, primal snarl.

Sukuna stilled.

His breath hitched for just a moment.

And then he grinned.

Pure, unrestrained awe danced across his features as he watched your transformation. His keen eyes traced every shift, the way your bones sharpened, the way your beauty twisted into something ethereal yet so monstrous.

"Now, that... is exquisite."He murmured, voice thick with dark amusement and something else. Something possessive.

Before the concubine could even process what was happening, you moved.

In the blink of an eye- faster than human sight you could track- you were there.

The concubine barely had time to gasp before your hand gripped the back of her head, tilting it sharply, exposing the wound sukuna had so generously gifted you.

"P-Please-" she whimpered, eyes wide, caught between terror and the lingering haze of intoxication.

You didn't hesitate.

Your fangs sank into her throat, piercing flesh effortlessly.

The moment her blood spilled into your mouth, warm and rich, a deep moan rumbled from your chest. The taste was intoxicating - filling, divine, but it was the sensation, the act itself, that sent a wave of pleasure rippling down your spine.

The concubine gasped, her body tensing, then shuddering as you fed. Her whimpers morphed into someone softer, her breath hitching with each slow, deep pull you took from her veins. The mixture of pain and pleasure melted into something blurred, a trance- like state overtaking her mind.

Sukuna watched.

Her fingers gripped the armrest of his throne, his smirk fading into someone darker, something hungrier.

The way you drank from her, the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed each mouthful, the low, breathy moans slipping from your lips- it was obscene.

And he wished - no, he ached - for it to be him instead.

"Tch... look at you," he purred, voice dripping with amusement but laced with something thick with desire. "Like a beast finally set free."

You did respond, couldn't.

Not when the hunger was thus overwhelming, not when the concubine's pulse was weakening beneath your lips, the taste of her blood sending sparks of ecstasy through your very core.

Your hands tightened against her trembling form, and you drank deeper.

The concubine let out a breathy whimper, her body sagging as her strength began to slip.

Sukuna chuckled, tilting his head as he observed every detail of the masterpiece before him.

"How many times have you done this, I wonder?" He mused, eyes gleaming. "How many have you lured into your embrace, sinking those fangs into their flesh, making them yours?"

You finally pulled away, gasping sharply, a shudder raking through your body as the last traces of euphoria from feeding faded into someone sated yet still longing.

The concubine's body went limp, slumping into your arms, her chest rising and falling in shallow, weakened breaths. She was still alive, but barely.

You let her drop unceremoniously to the floor, her head lolling to the side, blood still trickling from the wound you left behind.

Your lips were stained red, glistening with the evidence of your indulgence.

A single drop of blood rolled down from the corner of your mouth, tracing the curve of your chin, slipping further down to the swell of your chest, vanishing into the fabric of your robe.

Sukuna groaned, one of his hands clenching into a fist.

"You truly are a sight to behold."

You turned to him, breath still heavy, eyes dark with something unreadable.

"You don't seem horrified," you murmured, voice huskier than before, thick with the remnants of your feeding.

Sukuna laughed, the sound rich and full of delight.

"Horrified? Oh, little maiden... you must take me for a fool." He leaned forward, resting his chin upon his palm, his other hands flexing in barely restrained temptation.

"Do you think I fear monsters?" He grinned, sharp and dangerous. "I am one."

Your gaze remained steady, though something deep inside you twisted at his words.

"Then why summon me here?" You asked, though you already knew the answer.

Sukuna hummed, eyes raking over you, taking in the lingering traces of your true form, the blood still wet against your lips.

"Curiosity," he admitted. "You have been under my roof for so long, yet I never knew what you truly were. Imagine my surprise when I stumbled upon such a rare little creature."

His tongue flicked out, wetting his lips.

"And now... I must test you."

You narrowed your eyes slightly. "Test me?"

Sukuna exhaled a dark chuckle, rising from his throne with slow, delicate movements.

The air in the room shifted.

"Oh, yes," he murmured, stepping toward you, his sheer size and presence making the space between you feel small.

"You see, I am not one to let precious things slip from my grasp." He raised a hand, fingers lightly brushing over your jaw, tilting your chin upward.

"And you, my little vampire... are far too precious."

Your breath caught a sharp, unfamiliar sensation curling in your stomach.

Sukuna's eyes gleamed, his smirk widening.

"Tomorrow night... you will come to my chambers."

A pause.

"And we will see just how hungry you truly are."

── დ ──

The next night…

The hour was late, the palace silent except for the distant flicker of torches lining the halls. You stood before Sukuna’s chamber doors, heart steady, expression unreadable. Despite the calmness you portrayed, there was something else humming beneath your skin—anticipation.

Not of fear. Never fear.

But of what he had planned.

After last night, you knew Sukuna did not view you as something to be feared or destroyed. No—his gaze held something far more dangerous: ownership.

And you were going to test that.

Taking a final breath, you pushed the doors open.

Sukuna sat at the far end of the room, bare-chested, lounging against the grand silk-covered bedding like a king awaiting his conquest. His crimson eyes gleamed with expectation as he observed you enter, slow and poised, yet undeniably predatory in your grace.

"Ah," he exhaled, amusement flickering over his lips. "My little monster finally arrives."

You said nothing, your gaze drifting over him. The candlelight cast deep shadows over his sculpted form, illuminating the inked markings that twisted along his skin. His lower arms rested lazily at his sides, but his upper set of hands flexed slightly—restrained temptation in its rawest form.

"You look at me as if you are already planning your next meal," Sukuna smirked, tilting his head. "Tell me, do you wish to drink from me, little fangs?"

Your tongue flicked over your lips, slow, calculated.

"Would you allow it?" you murmured, stepping closer, your voice a low, enticing hum.

Sukuna’s smirk widened.

"For you?" He chuckled, watching the way your eyes darkened with barely concealed hunger. "I may consider it. But first…"

Faster than human sight could track, he was in front of you, towering over your form, his heat overwhelming.

"I must punish you for keeping such a secret from me," he murmured, his voice dangerously smooth as he grasped your chin between his fingers, tilting your head back.

Your lips parted slightly, eyes half-lidded as you met his unwavering gaze.

"Punishment?" You echoed, feigning innocence.

Sukuna laughed, dark and rich.

"Oh, you are far from innocent, maiden."

His thumb brushed over your lower lip, his touch deliberate, testing. Your fangs barely grazed his skin as he did so, and his gaze flickered—a brief, sharp glint of something ravenous.

You held his stare, unmoving, unblinking.

Then, you bit.

It wasn’t deep, just a shallow scrape of your fangs over his skin, but the reaction—

Sukuna groaned, low and deep, his grip tightening.

"Fucking hell," he exhaled, eyes dark with something primal.

The taste of him—potent, rich, unlike anything you had ever indulged in—spread over your tongue, warm and intoxicating.

It was addictive.

You licked the wound slowly, savoring the faint trail of crimson left behind.

"So you do enjoy pain," you murmured, voice dripping with amusement.

Sukuna growled, pushing you back against the wooden frame of his bed, his body pressing flush against yours.

"You have no idea what I enjoy, little monster."

His lips brushed against the shell of your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

"But I will show you."

A shiver ran down your spine as Sukuna’s lips ghosted over your ear, his voice thick with promise. His fingers trailed along your jaw before gripping your chin, forcing you to meet his crimson gaze.

“You’re trembling,” he mused, a dark chuckle vibrating from his chest. “Excited? Or afraid?”

You swallowed hard, refusing to answer, but the wicked smirk curling his lips told you he already knew.

Before you could gather your thoughts, his mouth crashed against yours—hungry, demanding, possessive. His fangs grazed your bottom lip, threatening to pierce, but he didn’t bite. No, he wanted you to beg for it. Sukuna thrived on control, and right now, he was savoring the way you melted under his touch.

He pressed you harder against the wooden frame of his bed, the solid structure creaking under the force of his body caging you in. His hands roamed over your curves, fingers digging into the fabric of your robes before slipping beneath, seeking bare skin.

“You’re always so obedient,” he murmured against your lips before dragging his tongue along your jawline. “But I wonder… just how much will it take to break that composure of yours?”

One of his hands slid between your thighs, parting them effortlessly. His fingers ghosted over the soft flesh there, teasing. You sucked in a sharp breath, your body betraying you as heat pooled low in your stomach.

“Look at that,” he mused darkly, his fingers barely grazing your core. “You act like a proper little maiden, but you’re already soaking for me.”

Your lips parted, a protest forming, but Sukuna silenced you with a sharp slap to your thigh. Not enough to hurt—just enough to make you jolt.

“Don’t even think about denying it,” he growled. “I can feel it.”

A single finger slid through your folds, gathering the slickness pooling there before he lifted it to his lips, sucking it clean with a groan. His eyes never left yours.

“Sweet,” he purred. “Just like I expected.”

Your face burned, shame and arousal intertwining, but Sukuna wasn’t finished toying with you. His hand returned to your core, fingers pressing against your entrance but not pushing in.

“You want more?” he taunted. “Then ask for it, little monster.”

His words made your pride bristle, but your body ached for him. You bit your lip, refusing to give in so easily.

Sukuna’s expression darkened. “Still stubborn?”

Without warning, he pressed a single thick finger into you, the stretch making you gasp. He didn’t move—just held it there, buried deep inside you.

“Come on,” he cooed mockingly. “Tell me how badly you need me.”

Your breath hitched as he curled his finger, pressing against that sensitive spot inside you. Your legs trembled, hands gripping at his arms for support.

“Sukuna…”

He hummed, adding a second finger, stretching you further. “Say it properly.”

You swallowed your pride, your need for more outweighing everything else. “I need you.”

His grin was pure sin. “Good girl.”

His fingers started moving, slow but deliberate, thrusting in and out of you, slick sounds filling the room. You bit your lip, trying to hold back your moans, but Sukuna wouldn’t have that. His free hand gripped your throat, squeezing just enough to make you gasp.

“Let me hear you,” he ordered. “Or I stop.”

A soft moan slipped past your lips, and Sukuna’s smirk widened.

“Better.”

His pace quickened, fingers working you open, building that unbearable tension in your stomach. But just as you were about to tip over the edge, he pulled away.

A whine of frustration left you, but Sukuna only laughed.

“Not yet,” he teased. “I haven’t had my fill.”

His hand gripped your hips, effortlessly flipping you onto the bed. Before you could react, he was on top of you, parting your legs with his knee, his heavy length pressing against your soaked core.

“You’ll take me like a good little thing, won’t you?” he murmured against your ear, teasing the head of his cock against your entrance. “And you’ll thank me for it.”

His voice was pure arrogance, but gods, you wanted him.

“Sukuna…” you breathed.

He chuckled, dark and knowing. “That’s what I thought.”

Then he pushed in, inch by inch, stretching you to the point of delicious pain. Your back arched, a strangled moan leaving your lips as he bottomed out, filling you completely.

Sukuna stilled for a moment, savoring the way you clenched around him. Then his hand found your chin again, tilting your head to the side.

“You want something else, don’t you?” he mused, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. “Go on. Take it.”

He tilted his head, exposing his throat to you—a silent command.

Your fangs ached, your hunger mixing with the pleasure, and with little hesitation, you bit down.

Sukuna groaned at the sharp pain, but instead of stopping you, his hips snapped forward, setting a brutal pace as he fucked you through the overwhelming pleasure.

Blood and pleasure. Pain and desire. It was intoxicating.

And Sukuna wasn’t finished with you yet.

── დ ──

The taste of him was intoxicating—rich, potent, unlike any mortal blood you had ever consumed. It burned through you, filling you with something far more than just sustenance. Power. Desire. Possession.

Sukuna groaned, his grip tightening on your hips as he rutted into you with brutal precision. “That’s it,” he growled, voice thick with pleasure. “Drink, little monster. Take what’s yours.”

Your fangs sank deeper, his blood rolling down your throat like fire, making your body shudder. The pleasure of feeding intertwined with the overwhelming sensation of him stretching you open, filling you so completely it left no room for thought. Just raw, unfiltered sensation.

Sukuna’s hips slammed into yours, each thrust sending jolts of pleasure through your core. The sound of skin meeting skin echoed in the dimly lit chamber, mingling with the wet, sinful noises of him fucking you. He was ruthless, taking you like he owned you—like he had always owned you.

His hand fisted in your hair, yanking your head back and forcing you to release his throat. Blood smeared your lips, and he took a moment to admire it, his gaze dark with something primal.

“Look at you,” he mocked, dragging a thumb across your lips before shoving it into your mouth. “Greedy little thing. Is that what you wanted? To be filled in every way possible?”

You whimpered around his thumb, your body trembling beneath him. He smirked, pulling it free only to grip your throat again, pressing just enough to make your pulse quicken.

“Answer me,” he ordered, punctuating his words with a particularly deep thrust that made you cry out.

“Yes,” you gasped, your voice breaking under the pressure of pleasure. “Yes—Sukuna, please—”

“Pathetic,” he sneered, but the way his cock throbbed inside you betrayed how much he enjoyed it. “So desperate for me. It’s almost adorable.”

He shifted, forcing one of your legs over his shoulder, allowing him to press even deeper, hitting that devastating spot inside you that had you seeing stars. Your nails raked down his back, desperate for something to hold onto as he drove you closer and closer to the edge.

But just when you were right there, when your release was seconds away, he stilled.

You let out a strangled whine, body trembling, hips bucking against him in protest. “No—don’t stop—”

Sukuna chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Oh? You thought you could come that easily?”

His hand slid between your legs, fingers pressing against your throbbing clit, teasing but not giving you what you needed. “You’ll come when I allow it. Until then, you’ll suffer.”

Your body burned with frustration, pleasure denied just as it was about to crest. He watched you struggle, your hips twitching, your breaths coming in ragged gasps, and he reveled in it.

“You look so pretty when you’re desperate,” he murmured, dragging his tongue along your throat. “Maybe I should keep you like this a little longer. Keep you begging.”

You whimpered, your pride warring with your need. But Sukuna was relentless. He pulled out almost completely before slamming back in, his pace brutal, unforgiving. Your walls clenched around him, trying to pull him back in, but still, he refused to let you fall over that edge.

Your eyes met his, hazy with pleasure. “Please,” you whispered, barely audible.

Sukuna’s smirk widened. “Oh, now you beg?” His fingers tightened around your throat, possessive, claiming. “Say it properly.”

“Please, my lord,” you gasped. “Let me—let me come—”

His eyes darkened with satisfaction. “Good girl.”

And then he shattered you.

His fingers pressed against your clit, his thrusts turning erratic, deeper, rougher. The pleasure slammed into you all at once, overwhelming, consuming. Your body arched, your vision going white as waves of ecstasy crashed over you.

Sukuna groaned, your walls clenching so tightly around him that it nearly dragged him down with you. But he wasn’t done yet.

“Fuck—” he growled, driving into you with a few more ruthless thrusts before burying himself to the hilt, his release spilling deep inside you. His grip on your throat tightened momentarily, his body shuddering against yours as he filled you completely.

For a moment, the world was nothing but harsh breaths, the lingering echoes of pleasure, and the warmth of him still inside you.

But Sukuna wasn’t finished with you yet.

His weight pressed down on you, his cock still buried deep, still hard. His smirk returned, slow and dangerous.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement. “You’ll keep me warm for a while, won’t you?”

His hips shifted slightly, making you whimper at the sensitivity. He chuckled, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Don’t fall asleep yet, little monster,” he purred. “I’m far from done with you.”

── დ ──

Your body was spent, trembling beneath Sukuna as the aftershocks of pleasure pulsed through you. But he had no intention of letting you rest. His cock throbbed inside you, still buried deep, still claiming every inch of you as his.

You barely had time to recover before he moved again, slow but deliberate, his hips rolling against yours. A pathetic whimper left your lips as overstimulation sent sharp jolts through your body.

“Sukuna—”

“Shh,” he hushed, dragging his fingers along your sensitive skin, tracing the marks his teeth and hands had left behind. “You can take it. A little monster like you was made for this.”

His fingers slid down to your already sensitive clit, circling it lazily, teasing. Your body jolted, overstimulated and raw, but you were too far gone to protest. All you could do was cling to him, eyes hazy, breath ragged.

He took his time, savoring the way you twitched and shivered under him, the way your body molded so perfectly around him, like you were made to be ruined by him.

“You feel that?” he murmured against your ear, his voice a dark purr. “My seed dripping out of you? What a fucking mess.”

He pushed your legs further apart, making sure you could feel every inch of him pressing against that devastating spot inside you. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your body caught between exhaustion and pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.

“Such a needy thing,” he continued, lips ghosting over your jaw. “You wanted to be filled, didn’t you? Now look at you. Too fucked-out to even speak.”

A sharp thrust had your back arching, a gasp ripping from your throat. Sukuna groaned at the way your walls clenched around him, and his control slipped.

His pace turned brutal again, each thrust knocking the breath from your lungs, sending sparks of pleasure straight to your core. He was chasing another release, dragging you along with him whether you could handle it or not.

“You’re mine,” he growled against your lips, his grip on your thighs bruising. “Say it.”

You barely had the strength to speak, but you forced the words out, voice broken and hoarse. “I’m yours.”

“Again.”

“Sukuna—I’m yours.”

His eyes darkened with satisfaction, and he rewarded you with his fingers pressing against your clit, working you toward another unbearable high.

Your body tensed, teetering on the edge again, and then—

Release tore through you like fire, like lightning, a white-hot explosion of sensation that left you trembling and utterly wrecked. Sukuna followed moments later, spilling deep inside you with a guttural groan, his body shuddering against yours.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. You were both spent, breathless, bodies tangled in the aftermath of pleasure. His weight pressed you into the mattress, grounding you, and for once, he didn’t immediately pull away.

Instead, his lips found your throat, softer now, less demanding. His fingers traced lazy patterns along your thigh, his usual arrogance dimmed by something almost… possessive.

“You did well,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, his breath warm against your skin. “I might just keep you.”

You let out a weak, breathless laugh. “Might?”

Sukuna smirked, but there was something in his gaze—something deeper, something claiming. He wasn’t just saying it to tease you. He meant it.

“You’re mine now, little monster,” he said, voice low, final. “And I don’t share.”

You knew better than to think he was just talking about this night. This was a declaration, a claim that ran deeper than flesh and pleasure. He had no intention of letting you go.

And maybe… maybe you didn’t want him to.

Sukuna pulled you closer, his arms locking around you in a way that almost felt protective. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply, as if memorizing your scent.

“Sleep,” he murmured. “You’ll need the rest.”

And with the warmth of his body wrapped around yours, the steady rhythm of his breath against your skin, you let yourself drift into the darkness, knowing that when you woke, he would still be there.

Because now, you belonged to Sukuna.

And he never let go of what was his.

[korn-dawg]

newly turned vampire!vi + vampire!reader cause lachryma's theme was vampires !!

cw: reader's a toxic bitch, could be classified as hurt/no comfort (?), brief smut scene but it adds to the plot

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who met you in a nightclub after a win in the pit, playing eye tag for an hour from her booth before you approached her, sitting on the table between her man-spread legs

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who's initially surprised by your boldness, telling her she's coming home with you, plain and simple

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who's eager despite the twisting feeling in her gut, following you away from smoke filled air and thumping music, away from the safety of witnesses

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who let you lead the way, stumbling over the thick air suffocating the underbelly of zaun

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who let you rough her up on your ragged mattress, neck giving way when you pull her hair, thighs spreading like warm butter on toast with the slightest push, moaning like a cheap whore at every touch

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who closed her eyes when you went down on her, not noticing your fingers pushing and prodding at her inner thigh as if looking for something while you sucked on her swollen clit

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi your fingers stilled where her pulse was strongest, your mouth detached from her and latched onto the area, sharp canines clamping down until her soft flesh gave way and teared

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who felt the sting, then the burn, then nothing.

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who woke up the next morning feeling like shit. this wasn't a normal hangover, it felt like a panic attack mixed with a bad head cold. she couldn't control her breathing, heartrate so fast she couldn't hear anything but the rapid thump thump thump in her ears, not to mention she was sweating like a motherfucker despite being cold to the touch and shivering.

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who freaked when she noticed her blood all over the sheets, pooling at her thighs, getting up to check herself for an injury

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who could hardly make it to your bathroom, passing out on the cold tile and waking up confused, only to vomit and pass out again.

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who spent the entire day there, missing what she had planned for the day (albeit it wasn't much; fight, win, drink, smoke, fuck, nap, rinse and repeat)

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who woke up at around 7pm to a half-assed kick to the side and you standing over her, disapproval and borderline disgust painting the features of your face

"you were here all day? did you even do anything to make yourself remotely useful?"

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who tried to explain what she was feeling, only for you to disregard her, walking off to go lay on your couch

"you'll be fine, you're being dramatic."

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who stayed there on your bathroom floor for 3 days straight until she could finally get her bearings and stop fainting

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who got worked around the entire time. not once did you check on her or offer anything, just stepping over her borderline lifeless body to get done in the mornings

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who didn't know what to do when she could finally walk around and just sat on your couch, waiting for you to get home

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who asked so many questions as soon as you stepped in the door, demanding answers as to what was happening and why you were so casual about her almost dying on your floor

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who didn't believe your reluctant explanation at first, leaving your place in a huff after calling you a lunatic

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who didn't last very long outside, the punctured arteries in her thigh still bleeding despite her trying her hardest to stop it

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who ended up at your front door not even a day later, her earlier symptoms resurfacing swift and worse than before

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who stared at the liquid in front of her, glancing over at you a few times, refusing to drink it before she was held down, metallic tasting red funneled down her throat

"i'm keeping you alive, stop being a little bitch about this."

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who finally started to believe you because immediately after, she felt fine. great actually.

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who stuck around after that, coming to you with any questions or to feed, developing a little bit of a crush on you overtime

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who decided to tell you after much thinking, confessing while hanging out on your couch, only to get laughed at

"you're pathetic, violet. no chance."

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who was devastated by the rejection, avoiding hanging out with you, only coming over to eat and leaving immediately without a word

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who started seeing a girl temporarily to soothe the heartbreak, only for you to shut it down when you caught wind of it

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who got yelled at the next time she came over after you saw them together, being threatened with getting cut off from her blood supply if she didn't drop the girl immediately

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who refused to break it off, leading you to conveniently move away to an unknown location

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who was lost without you or your guidance, the weakness and hunger getting to her during a night with her new girl, blacking out as she did once before. this time, though, the pool of blood she woke up in wasn't hers

aftercare !!

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who had a lisp for a solid two months after her fangs fully grew in

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who cuts her lips on the sharp points of her teeth

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who got really sensitive to bright lights after turning, wearing shades almost 24/7

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who sleeps with a little bat plushie she stole borrowed

˖°🦇ִ vampire!vi who picks everyone up during group hugs

AHHHH YOU ALL THOUGHT THIS WAS GONNA BE SMUT HUH LMFAOOOOOOOOOOO

taglist !!! : @hihihhihahahha  @lolitalovess  @peskylez  @saturnhas82moons  @kylorey25  @lipglosskxsses  @mars4hellokitty  @hwasddeongbyeoli  @foralltheprettygirls @kae-boom

[lizzyiii]

His Lady Love —Masterlist

pairing | aemond targaryen x vampire!mikaelson!reader

taglist | if you'd like to be added to the tag list just fill out the following DOC ✨✨✨

summary | to escape your cursed lineage, you sail away to the ends of the world, where you discover a new world, one with only two continents instead of seven. you make a life for yourself in the court of kings landing, where you catch the eye of a certain targaryen prince.

warnings | violence, blood, death, vampire powers, SMUT (18+ MDNI!), fluff, hurt/comfort, trying to follow canon plotline (major changes for some stuff), he falls hard, she falls harder but he's still the one obsessed.

i do not own any character from the book "fire and blood" or the following shows "the house of the dragon" or "the originals" except the reader (which is you)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 1 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 2 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 3 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 4

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 5 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 6 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 7 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 8

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 9 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 10 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 11 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 12

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 13 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 14 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 15 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 16

[lilacgaby]

‧₊˚ to kiss or kill.. a vampire?‧₊˚

you've been a vampire for as long as you can remember. you were going through your day, or night, routine as normal when a noise startles you. a man, katsuki bakugo to be exact, was standing at your door. though, he can't seem to remember whether he's supposed to kill or kiss you...

★pair. knight(?)katsuki x vampire!reader. tags. fem!reader, fantasy!au, vampire!au, amnesia trope, memories, kissing, hugging, dates kinda, blood, daggers, stakes. wc. 2k.

noteღ. i love the memory loss trope but its hard to write it in a way that doesn't seem like lazy(???) idk how to say it, also happy halloween to all who celebrate!

embedded deep in the forest, vines growing over the bark of the trees, the sun not visible from the impressive manor you called home.

a lake so deep you couldn't see the bottom, the moonlight the only thing reflecting off the darkness of the water.

it was quiet, quaint. only the animals as company for such a faraway place.

you roamed freely around your garden, tending to the black rose bushes and cutting the thorns to an appropriate length. feeding carrots you only grew for the deer and bunnies that had grown used to your presence, seeing the generations of them rest and birth, a consequence of being immortal.

your outfit was dark, camouflaging you against the night sky, the only time you were able to go out. you'd grown used to it, comforted by the night sky and sleeping critters around you.

but a crunch of grass snapped you out of your relaxation. the tuft of blond hair you'd spotted alarming you.

your pot of water was now splashed onto the floor, your red eyes were widened and pupils like a cat as you moved out of vision. vision of whoever was trampling into your long uncivilized manor.

it was a man, donning expensive yet ripped up fabrics and cloths, a beaten up satchel, and bright hair that stood out against the night sky.

you couldn't help but notice though, that he had red eyes just like yours.

he must be a vampire, you reasoned, moving closer to investigate the man who was unmoving at your door. you popped out from behind him. “who are you and why are you here?”

he jumped, seemingly not expecting you to be behind him. “i'm.. lost. i can't seem to find my way. or.. remember what i was doing here.” he turned to face you, his figure towering over yours, his eyes on you. “you don't remember anything? is it possible that you've been hit with a strong spell?”

you kept talking while looking over at his complete attire now, noting the royal emblem on his chest.

“it's possible.. i don't remember what i do exactly.” his red eyes kept boring into you, striking you with a sense of familiarity, though you couldn't place from where. “well, you can stay here for the night. i have spare rooms.”

his eyes widened slightly, his eyebrows raising. “really, you're inviting me in? what if i was a vampire?”

“well, no need to fear one of my own.”

his mouth went agape when he realized. “you're a vampire.”

“yes. does that change anything?”

“i.. guess not.” a hand went to the back of his neck, his eyes averting as he looked up in thought. “it's just surprising. i think.. i feel a connection to the word. to its meaning. i must have been- sorry be- a vampire. don't you agree?”

“let's talk more inside. if you are a vampire as you believe, we'll die if we're outside another hour...” you left it open ended as to ask for his name.

“katsuki. call me katsuki.”

“well katsuki. welcome in, don't suck my blood or something.” you joked.

as he followed you inside, he awed internally at the extravagance of your mansion. it definitely was the home of a vampire, as all the windows were closed and barricaded.

“i haven't had many guests over for a while.. so. excuse the mess.” he followed you as you showed him the different parts of your home. he passed by the kitchen, so gorgeous that he felt upset when you noted how you only used it to make food for the animals outside. you showed him your bedroom, which only housed a single, heavily padded coffin.

you went upstairs finally, your mansion was huge so he began to notice the ache in his feet. when you arrived in your lounge area though, he felt a pang in his head as he eyed a dagger. a silver one.

memories flooded into his head at once, making him hold his head in discomfort.

words. so many replayed in his mind though they were incoherent. sights of blood, of one of those very daggers in his hand, a stake in the other.

“ėřīdɯǎʌ ħ ʇ ľļ ʞ”

he couldn't understand it at all, the visions in his mind were playing and flashing right after another.

training, studying vitals, the word vampire. why did it seem so familiar?

“katsuki. are you okay?” your hands were on his shoulders now, your face of concern went unnoticed by him, his eyes were only laser focused on the sharp fangs of your mouth.

“i–. i– um. i don't know what the fuck happened to me.” he admitted, he still felt weak from the confusion revelations that had unfolded in his mind.

“maybe.. you should head to bed for the day. i have a bed for you in here.”

you took his hand, he almost pulled away, he didn't know why it still felt so bloody. why it felt like he was holding an unseen weapon in his palm. but he let you comfort him slightly anyways.

you laid a towel onto his forehead, closing the door with a, “goodnight.”

you left him resting with his thoughts as you continued your chores outside.

it was obvious he wasn't a vampire like he thought. he wasn't nocturnal like you. the sight of the blood bags you had left cooling in a safe him feel queasy, and he could touch metal just fine. he found himself tracing the details of the dagger in your living room mindlessly, enthralled with it. it felt just as familiar as your eyes did. he was sure it would feel just as right in his hand, he moved to pick it up when-

“what are you doing?” you asked sleepily. your attire from yesterday was gone, replaced with casual clothes that didn't seem to fit you. “..i just got curious.”

he stared at you. the crimson of his eyes confusing you to no end, but you let it go with a sigh. “well, stop messing with that stuff. like seriously.”

he took your warning. but the strange memories never went away. though, he noticed that they'd only really pop up around you.

he'd gotten to know you in the couple hours of the first day he spent with you. your favorite color, food before you turned, your true age, your favorite flower.

and you'd gotten to know the vague things he remembered about himself in exchange. how he grew up in a village, how he remembers training hard everyday to become a knight, how he grew up with the next in line for the throne.

you'd traveled around the forest with him, showing him some of your favorite spots. pointing to nearby towns and taverns, warning him to stay away from spots where werewolves would roam frequently.

you'd gotten him a new wardrobe of clothing that happened to match yours. black button downs and slacks with red accents, something that suited him perfectly, was what you had gifted him.

he tried to gift you things as well. it was unfortunate that his gift for cuisine went wasted on you, who couldn't eat food. he picked you flowers from different regions of the forest you wouldn't venture to. dandelions that he insisted you'd blow out together, red roses that paired perfectly with your black ones, and baby’s breath sprinkled tastefully in between.

the words grew less scrambled over the days of which he spent with you. it'd been a month of living with him at this point, and your life together had become routine. the pangs where he'd keel over for seconds in real time, but hours in his mind happened more frequently too. the same visions of blood on his hands, a dagger identical to the one displayed in your home would always be there. but additions of a torch in his hand and a dagger would change. the memory would change, which confused him.

he'd be lying if he said he didn't like the calm nature of your life together. the tranquil feeling of feeding the bunnies and deers alongside you, the rushing sound of the lake as you sat side by side admiring it.

the feeling of your skin, cold to the touch, on his body that seemed to run too hot.

your open-minded nature, the lingering loss of your presence he'd feel when you were gone.

though, he now could hear some parts of the sentence quite clearly.

“k– the vampire.”

as he laid around on one of the many couches of your manor, petting a black cat, he pondered on what the last word could be. he knew it could only be one of two words, he wasn't dumb.

to kiss or to kill. but what reason was he given to kill you? you'd been nothing but amazing to him, welcome and open when he was vulnerable. the only thing you'd been strange about– the only thing he felt he wanted.

was to hold the dagger in his hand.

he laid the cat onto the side of the couch before standing up. it was like an invisible force was leading him away, taking him right to his object of interest that he had been so hyper aware of since the day he arrived.

every step he took was like a piece of the puzzle being put into place.

he was hit by a memory loss potion while he was out on patrol.

patrol for the kingdom, where he served as a knight. however, after many vampire hunters had gone missing in this part of the forest..

he had been sent out here.

he opened his satchel that he'd thrown into the corner. affirming his thoughts, a dagger, identical to the one on the stand was in it.

next to it was a stake, and a torch with an ignition next to that.

he stood up, the final words given to him. but it didn't feel as good as he thought it would.

“kill the vampire.”

because the order was to hurt someone who'd grown so dear to him.

…

was it wrong for him to continue acting like nothing was wrong? maybe. but he couldn't help but still continue to be enamored by you, even if it was wrong.

the stereotypes, the horror stories he'd been fed of vampires. as he held you close to him in the comfort of your coffin, he didn't know what to do anymore.

as he guided you to the lake, he wasn't sure of what he would do. he had his satchel with him now, yet he still held your hand in his.

“are you leaving?” you asked, unknowing of the war taking place in his mind.

“no. i just, wanted to bring it along.”

“oh. okay.” you'd shrugged, unfazed by his words. he felt his heart bleed, bleed because you trusted him so much, but also tugged towards his sense of duty.

you'd sat together again, his body facing the same lake that had guided him to you. he felt your gaze on his face, he squeezed his palm into a fist.

“what's wrong?” you asked, your voice low, you held the long sleeves of your black outfit as your eyebrows scrunched in concern. “you've been acting weird.”

“i.. my memory. it came back.”

your eyes shot up, before a small smile came over your face. “really, that's great katsuki. so,

what were you doing out here?”

the words lingered in the air, his eye painstakingly moving to look at you. his mouth was held open for a second, seemingly speechless as he tried to tell you. he finally, just let it slip. “i was supposed to kill you, [name].”

you stilled, he continued to explain. “it all happened once i saw the dagger. it eyed me, and i eyed it. it seemed so familiar, your eyes did too. until it all came back.” he took a sharp breath and continued.

“men, vampire hunters of the kingdom specifically, went missing around these parts. i was sent here to find the vampire and kill them. but i was ambushed along the way by a witch who hit me with a spell.” his hand moved to his satchel, you stayed unmoving as you absorbed his words.

he held the stake and dagger in his hands respectively, the materials that would kill you if pierced glistening ominously in the moonlight. the same moonlight that encapsulated you two.

“i thought it over. a lot. thought about what i wanted, no. what i thought was right.” he gripped them tightly, holding them up.

you closed your eyes, as you heard the words, “goodbye.”

but death, the feeling of wood piercing your heart never came. the splash of the water was the only sound heart by you, who had tearfully looked to face him.

“what?” was all you could helplessly utter, as he kneeled to sit in front of you:

“..i don't want to kill you [name].” he moved to hold your hand, cold as ever, against the beating heart of his chest. “but i'd like to kiss you, honestly.”

you let out a shaky laugh, a tear falling down your face as you sighed in relief. “i think i'd like that too.”

as the last bubbles burst at the surface of the lake, he tilted your head forward, holding your chin in between his fingertips as he gently kissed you. only the grass between your bodies bore witness to the newly born relationship forged by trust ignited.

the full moon now faced you two. he held your hand tightly, encaging you with the broad of his body.

he saw the moon start to slip away and picked you up, taking you to the bedroom you'd gifted him and laying you by his side.

he'd turned practically nocturnal too from these past weeks, the desire to be by your side fueling him.

so as he laid with his eyes half lidded, looking at you in the dim candlelight of the room, he held you impossibly closer.

he wanted to spend an eternity with you. maybe he'd truly cast his old life aside and become a vampire alongside you.

that thought rocked him to sleep that night, your body like a puzzle piece next to his.

who knew all you'd have to do to kiss a vampire is cast your old life aside?

tags. @k0z3me @darhinadadragon @maddietries @exoticrasin @lavendarstarz @hisonlyobsession @i-the-fluffo @uy242c @cookielovesbook-akie @frosted-flakes @irenne-stans @kemziicore

[renfieldsheart]

Mafia!Husband x Vampire!Reader thoughts…

Depictions of: violence, guns, blood, fluff? (Is that possible?), dark yet wholesome?, slight suggestion at end but idk it’s pretty tame.

(Psst! If u like my stuff, please go support me on Wattpad!)

Vampire!Reader who gets restlessly jealous whenever they smell a stranger’s blood on their husband, but can’t bring it up without exposing their own vampirism.

Mafia!Husband who doesn’t understand how you always know he’s home before he opens the front door, or how you know where he’s been that day just by ‘guessing.’

Vampire!Reader who can smell the smoke from gunfire on their husband’s clothing when he comes home and tries not to show their concern.

Mafia!Husband who hid his job from you for months, scared you’d resent him, only to be completely dumbfounded by your obvious excitement when you finally find out.

Vampire!Reader who begged him to take them with him to his job one day, to which he firmly refused.

Vampire!Reader who confesses their vampirism to their husband, expecting an argument or at least fear, only to be met with pure fascination and curiosity.

Mafia!Husband who now takes you with him to work sometimes, letting you feed on the casualties.

Mafia!Husband who lets you take the wheel for torturing victims, your infectious bites being the perfect threat.

Mafia!Husband who doesn’t bother washing his bloody hands before coming home because he knows you’d lick him clean without a second thought.

Mafia!Husband who makes out with you in the middle of a shootout, lips interlocked and tongues intertwined as blood spatters and sprays through the air, mangled remains of what was once human beings tossed around like confetti.

Match made in hell ♥️

[barbies1shots]

☆- slow - rough sex, featuring GETO SUGURU, whiny geto, pathetic geto, slight feral geto, overstimulation, condescending reader, werewolf!geto x vampire!reader, implied fem reader but anyone can read, use of pretty girl, biting, riding - mating press

werewolf geto who ran most of your little errands. grabbing your clothing from the dry cleaners, picking up your shoes from the polishers, grabbing your supplied bloodbags from the bank. even with the crude way the other vampires look at him. the only thing on mind is pleasing you.

you looked at him from the corner of your eyes when he said he wanted a reward. that he deserved something since he was a good boy.

you, of course indulged in him and gave him what he wanted. a kiss. he nudged you to lay down on the couch, wanting you to be comfortable before he leaned down and kissed your lips. incredibly greedy for any affection. he pulled you impossibly closer from the waist and he moaned into the kiss. his tongue pushes into your mouth, licking everything. not even caring if it was a proper kiss now.

he whines once he trials his lips down your jaw and on your neck. he whines that he wants to finally mark you as his. that all the disgusting vampire smells were making his head hurt.

"What did you do to deserve more than a kiss, huh, pup?"

you giggled at his blunt answer, nothing but i want it. Want my pretty girl so bad. he didnt even know what he was saying. just babbling along with what his heart wants. you granted him permission, and he hurried to find the junction between your neck and your shoulder and sunk his teeth in. his canines hurting the most but he soothed it over with his rough tongue.

you let him strip you out of your clothing, helping him with the straps that his bigger fingers couldnt properly hold. see, he wasnt a virgin, no where close but your cunt makes him feel like one. the tightness, softness and warmness felt like he could come at any moment once he pushed in. with his head tilted back, he let out a groan from the back of his throat, his hold on your hips tightening so much that there will be brusies in the morning.

he leaned down to your neck, licking at the bite mark before he jerked his hips back and pushed them in. easily pressing into your g-spot and making you quiver. he reeled his hips back untill just the tip was grazing the outside muscle and snapped his hips, sending a horrid crashing wave of pleasure through your bones. yet suguru was already on the edge of tipping over, he couldnt keep his breathless moans to himself as he hid himself in your neck.

but as time grew on, his thrusts began to falter. the pleasure, for him, growing too much as he just focused on grinding into you.

"Are you struggling? Do you need my help? Its okay to cry for help, puppy,"

yet he just whined and pitifully nodded his head. he let you switch positions, your pillowy thighs caging his hips in and you lifted yourself up and sunk down onto him. this position takes him deeper, deeper into your tummy where it feels like hes in your throat.

a loud whimper escaped his lips once the back of your thighs met his hips, his chest was rising and falling incredibily. he placed his hands on your hips and you started to ride him. lifting yourself up and dropping yourself down. pressing down and grinding against him. your clit catching the dark hairs resting on his pelvis.

with every movement his thighs jerked and trembled as he struggled to keep his composure. he would gasp, his eyes fluttering shut, Damn, pretty girl, yesyes- please, just like that!-

with every movement it felt like you were riding him for his literal life. that he had to grasp onto his very soul so you couldnt fuck it out of him. your cunt felt like heaven itself, something so precious that should be taken for granted. he arched his back, feeling his canines grow with the sudden need to be even closer to you. a strong wave of possessiveness that reeled him in, a primal instinct.

every movement had him gritting his teeth as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. every movement of your slutty hips-

suddenly you were on your back, flipped over and pinned under the large mass of your werewolf lover, with him growling visicously down into your face. he didnt let you catch your breath or even ask questions before he filled you up again. the pace brutal and unfeeling as he just rutted into you like a filthy dog off the street.

he pressed his dick so deep, that there was a bulge in your tummy, the action forcing a sob to escape from your throat.

he hoisted your thighs onto his arms and he pressed down untill his head rested in your neck, and your thighs are pressed into your tummy, his lips brushing your mark as he fucked you. every rut felt like someone was taking a rock and smashing it into your lungs before purposly taking their finger and stabbing your g-spot. he fucked you and it hurt.

it hurt so good.

he growled possessivly when you ran your fingers through his hair to calm him down, he growled when you pressed your lips into the side of his neck, by his ear. he growled- no he howled when you sinked your fangs into his neck, far deeper than anything has ever gone before and he whimpered patheically as he came. the bite suprising him but feeling so good where he saw white spots scattering his vision as he came.

the pup filled you up so good and just continued to rut into your body like a mindless doll, not knowing when to stop or even how to stop. he didnt hear your distant voice crying out for him to get ahold of himself when he leaned down to bite into the opposite side of your neck. his muzzle now smered with your blood. all he felt was a blinding white pleasure and not your hands slapping at his chest and pelvis to give up.

poor puppy..:(

@aizawasbarb

[sacr1ficialang3l]

LITTLE MISS SCARE-ALL

Introducing… vampire-rockstar!reader ✮⋆˙

✮⋆˙nyx is the nickname the townsfolk had given her after they all realized no one really knew her name. It fits, though. After all, she is their goddess. 

✮⋆˙nyx is rock n roll personified. Tight little leather skirts and flimsy little tank tops. Knee-high boots that could squash you if she wanted to, long red nails that somehow don’t inconvenience her when she decides to play the guitar for a lucky crowd, always smelling of vodka and cigarette smoke and power.

✮⋆˙nyx is a force of nature, an unstoppable beast, but she is also just a pretty girl that wants to have fun and make people jump along to her music. Dean will soon realize that she is not like other vamps he knows, and that he is not immune to her spellbinding aura. 

✮⋆˙nyx will crash her way into the Winchester’s lives, and her fangs will sink in deep into the older one’s heart, no matter how much he tries to stop it. After all, he had never met a daughter of the legendary Count Orlok. 

✮⋆˙The Winchesters are not ready for Nosferatu’s wild, ravishing, fierce rockstar daughter, but she is coming, and no one can stop her. 

TONIGHT'S SETLIST:

✮ Black No.1 - Type O Negative

✮ Runaway - Bon Jovi

✮ The Rain Song - Led Zeppelin

✮ Closer - Nine Inch Nails

NOTES: so, I'm trying something different with this! this will be a mini-series and the first part will come out soon! I've been working pretty hard on this because I loved the concept and I can't wait for you all to meet Nyx<3

TAGS: @littlesoulshine @mostlymarvelgirl @pink-ghost666 @h8aaz @otteropera @xoswiftieprincess @tinas111 @blossomingorchids @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @plasticflowersinahistorycemetery <3

If you wanna be tagged in future works, let me know!!