#nothing is real everything is permitted or whatever they say in this situation
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irascible-iridescent · 7 months ago
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I wish men were real, too bad they were invented to sell dating sim gachas to women
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eatmeandbirthmeagain · 6 months ago
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◇ The Lady In Armour - King Baldwin x Reader: Part 1 ◇
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◇ Long fic ◇
A/N: Oh boy this is a long one. I have had an absolute blast writing it. This was requested by @lzsia, I hope its what you had in mind! Let me know if you all want a part 2. As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven and not the real historical figgures. This is also set pre-film. Enjoy!
PS: Also this has a desctiption of y/n
TW: Mentions of blood, death, battle, and leprosy
Y/n was never a weak woman. From the time she could walk, she was a fighter. Just like her father. Her mother despised this, often going as far as to scream at her when she even dared touching her fathers sword. This was 8 years ago.
She had since left her mother and siblings to join the mercenaries when she was 14. “You are just like your father. You are going to get yourself killed just like he did!” were the final words she ever heard her mother say. That was 2 years ago.
These words rang in her mind as she sat, perched atop her stallion. Women not being permitted to fight meant she had to keep her identity concealed from the prying eyes of men that surrounded her. 
She had not meant to be a part of this battle. She thought it was too risky with the weight of her femininity pulling her down. Yet, here she was.
The army approached Jerusalem. And now there was nothing she could do. There was no going back.
Everything was a blur. Everything went so fast. They were out there for days. Weeks. But it passed like mere hours.
Until one night. One night everything changed. Her camp was ambushed. She was the first to see them coming, but she was not fast enough to warn everybody.
There were so many of them. They came from everywhere. Swords smashed against each other, blood sprayed the tents, bodies from both sides of the battle fell. Then everything went black.
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Y/n’s eyes snapped open. It was still dark. The first thing she noticed was the sharp pain in the back of her head. The second thing she noticed were the tight restraints, wrapped around her wrists and ankles. Shackles. She was in shackles. And whatever she was on was moving. She remained still to ensure whoever was around didnt she was awake, but opened her eyes wider to take in her surroundings. 
She was on the back of a horse drawn wagon. 
This was not good. Her mind immediately went to how to get out of this. She couldn't jump off the wagon on account of the shackles around her ankles and how fast it was moving. And she couldn't feel her sword on her belt anymore. She appeared to be the only one on the back of the wagon. That meant everyone from her camp was either dead or retreated to the base camp for backup. To make matters worse. Her helmet was gone. She turned her head to then side and saw it sitting on the opposite side of the wagon.
That explains the reason she wasn't killed. This was not a good situation. No doubt about it she would be executed. A prisoner being captured  is bad enough, but as a woman? She would be killed for sure, but maybe even worse beforehand.
At least she would die like her father. With dignity. Not as some old woman after simply having children to a man she hated. 
As she was thinking about this, the wagon stopped. It was sudden and abrupt. She heard the sound of men speaking and she could make out the faint outline of large white tents. The horse began moving again. She could not see the man who guided the horse but she knew it would be a soldier of Jerusalem. It had to be.
She wanted to put her helmet back on in case her face had not been seen yet, but she didn't want to move and risk whoever was on the horse knowing she was awake. It was better to stay silent.
The horse stopped again a few minutes later. She heard the man guiding the horse speaking to someone but she couldn't quite make out what they were saying.
She was not afraid. There was no need for fear. Fear was useless. She had not been afraid since she was a child. And she was not afraid now. She would not give them the pleasure of seeing her quake in fear like a scared little girl. She was a woman. A strong woman and she would not allow them to perceive her any differently.
The man dismounted the horse and approached the back of the wagon. She turned to look at him, not saying a word. “So you're awake. You have been awfully quiet back here little lady” she remained silent.
“I'll let the king decide your fate, you heathen. Follow me, I know you can walk” he stepped aside to allow her to get out of the wagon.
She stood and picked up her helmet, placing it over her head again before jumping from the back of the wagon. The man grabbed her arm hard and dragged her to the largest white tent in the center of the camp. She was still not afraid. 
The man pushed her into the tent and bowed his head as two guards ran to grab her arms, holding her in place. She put up no fight.
“My lord, this was the last surviving prisoner from the camp we claimed”. Y/n turned her attention from her captor to the center of the tent.
There were a few guards and some royal officials she recognised from recounts given to her by other soldiers. And in the middle of them all, sat behind a desk was the king of Jerusalem. Baldwin IV. His face was bandaged around his nose, cheeks and forehead, leaving his eyes, brow and mouth exposed as well as the suprisingly soft looking blonde hair that framed his face.
Y/n peered at him from behind the slit in her helmet. She was not afraid of this man. If she could even call him that. To her, he was just a boy. A boy with a filthy disease. He was merely 16, just like her.
He stood from the desk to approach her. She stared at him until he stood feet from her.
“Get on your knees" He commanded.
She did not move. The king gestured to the guards and they shoved her to the ground, one hitting her in the stomach, causing her to groan in pain.
She stared up at him through her brow with rage in her eyes. He had given the command for her camp to be executed. They were dead because of him.
“There is something you should know my lord” her captor chimed in.
The captor stepped forward and placed his hands on either side of her helmet, pulling it from her head dramatically.
Long, black hair fell from the helmet to spill out onto her shoulders. She turned again to look up at the king, a scowl plastered onto her thin, femmine face.
The king's expression changed from one of anger, to one of shock, confusion, and something else she couldn't quite place. 
“What is the meaning of this?” a royal adviser called out. “This has to be a mistake, she has to be the wife of a knight who was caught up in this!” another said.
Neither y/n or the king were paying any attention to this pointless banter. They stared at each other with a feeling that neither had ever felt before. Y/n could see him more clearly now. He was actually quite handsome.
A few more stray words were exchanged in shock before Baldwin called for silence. “Release her, now!” he shouted at the guards who still held her in place harshly. They loosened their grip, pulling her to her feet. “We will keep her. As a servant. Her camp was the last and the battle shall be over before sunrise” the king said sternly, eyes never leaving y/n.
As the night wore on, Saladin’s army retreated and y/n’s captors returned to the kingdom, bringing her with them.
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By very early morning y/n was shown to the servants chambers. Now she laid in the small bed, staring at the ceiling. She was not tired in the slightest but she was not permitted to leave the room. The guards that stood outside the door would make sure of that.
She was torn. She wanted to leave, yes. But to return to what? She had no family and all of her friends who didn't even know who she really was were dead. As much as she wanted to leave, there was something that she could not stop thinking about. The long gaze that she had shared with the king.
She still could not quite place how he was feeling when he looked at her. It had her baffled for the first time in her life. Spending so much time around men in the mercenaries meant that she usually knew how to read them very easily, but Baldwin? She had no idea. 
On the opposite side of the castle, Baldwin himself was in a very similar situation.
He laid in his bed, staring up at the high ceiling. That young woman had him in a trance. She was beautiful, so beautiful. He did wonder how she managed to get to the battlefield.
Women were not permitted to fight and there was no way she was the wife of one of Saladin’s knights. Perhaps she had snuck into the army? But how?
Unlike y/n, the young king was very tired. He resisted the urge to shut his eyes, he wanted to hold onto the image of her beautiful face for just a moment longer. As he felt his eyes begin to close, one last thought crossed his mind. “I must to speak with her tomorrow”.
It was afternoon by the time Baldwin opened his eyes. The exhaustion from the battle had worn out his body entirely. This rest was much needed. Barely a minute passed since he woke when there was a knock on his bedroom chamber door.
“Come in" he called out, rubbing his eyes. Tiberias pushed open the door and entered slowly. “Good Afternoon my lord” he greeted, bowing his head. “Good afternoon,” Baldwin replied, his words slurred and tired.
“I just wished to see if you were ready to speak with that woman we captured last night? You mentioned you wanted to speak with her on our return to the castle”.
Baldwin sat up straight at the sudden memory of her flooding back, the tiredness leaving his body in a second.
“Yes, of course. Why didn't you remind me earlier?” he stammered out, getting to his feet.
“You were still sleeping my lord. You seemed very tired and I did not want to disturb you”. Tiberias had entered the king's chambers earlier that day to find him still fast asleep. Not wanting to wake him, he told the girl that the king would decide her fate in the afternoon.
“Well I am more than ready to meet with her this instant. Tell the physicians to wait, I must see her” 
“Very well my lord” Tiberias replied, leaving the young king to dress himself.
Y/n was still in shackles as Tiberias led her down the corridors, accompanied by two guards. A group of servant women had prepared her change of clothes, telling her that she must look her best to meet with the king alone.
When they reached the kings chambers, the doors were already opend. Y/n could see the king, sitting at his desk with his back to them writing something with a feathered quill. “My lord? I have the girl with me” Tiberias called out.
Baldwin turned to the group and signaled for the guards to leave them. “Release her from the shackles as well” he added. “Are you sure my lord?” one of the guards asked. “Yes, now leave us” he said sternly.
Once y/n was free from the chains, she turned her attention to the king. They were alone now.
Then Baldwin did something she never could have expected. He gave her a warm smile and greeted her with a soft kiss on her hand. “My lady. Please, sit” he gestured to a couch that sat against the wall of the room.
“I must hear about how you came to be in Saladin’s army”.
In return, y/n smiled and took a seat on the couch. Now she knew the emotion he had shown the previous night. It was much easier to see now without confusion and shock shrouding it. He had looked at her with love.
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darkstarofchaos · 2 years ago
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Time for another Unpopular Opinion. Let’s say you have two mechs from IDW. They are similar in a lot of ways: both have trauma around mental violation, have directly opposed multiple Primes, desired to create super soldiers, committed war crimes, yet had no initial interest in war. They’re both manipulative and willing to do whatever it takes to achieve their goals. There are also some notable differences between them: One is charismatic and physically powerful, the other is blunt and unimposing. One had soldiers created specifically to serve as cannon fodder, the other found needless deaths frustrating. One took pleasure in killing, the other just wanted to win the war.
One is Megatron, the other is Prowl.
Now, I see a lot of people argue that Prowl deserves everything that happens to him. They enjoy him getting punched, they make jokes about it, etc. But I have rarely, if ever, seen someone claim that Megatron deserves anything bad that happens to him. Therein lies my question: why is Megatron, the genocidal warlord, so beloved by the fandom when Prowl, an objectively better person, is reviled?
And no, “Megatron became a better person” is not an acceptable answer. Megatron got therapy and a support system, even if that support was sometimes just being called out when he fell back on old behaviors. Prowl was never even permitted an ally who stuck by him. Additionally, Megatron’s environment wasn’t compatible with his old way of thinking: no one trusted or liked him at first and conquering had no appeal anymore, so he couldn’t do whatever he wanted without retaliation and there was less motivation to act out. But Prowl remained stuck in the same situation. No matter what he wanted for himself, the war still needed to be fought, and he could only change his approach so much before the costs outweighed the benefits.
Becoming a better person when you have no support and your environment doesn’t allow for change is almost impossible. So no, moral growth is not an acceptable answer.
“I like Megatron and I don’t like Prowl” is an honest answer, and I can respect that. But it also implies that the hated character is being judged more harshly and “deserves” worse than the preferred character, regardless of whose crimes were actually worse. So this answer isn’t ideal either.
Perhaps it’s about real-world politics, then: Prowl was a cop and Megatron was a victim of police brutality. I rather doubt it, though, because many people favor Optimus or Chromedome - both ex-enforcers - over Prowl. And while you could argue that’s a case of them being better people, I’m not going to give Optimus Annexation Prime the benefit of doubt on that one.
At the end of the day, though, I think the answer is pretty obvious: people like Megatron and hate Prowl because the narrative told them to. The narrative promised an adventure-filled redemption arc for the Leader of the Decepticons himself, and fans ate it right up. The narrative said that Prowl is a jerk and even his allies hate him, and the fans jumped right on board the bandwagon. The narrative gave Megatron every chance to succeed and took everything Prowl had to lose, and the fans decided nothing was wrong with this state of affairs.
I’ll grant that the concept of a Megatron redemption was interesting the first time. I rather disliked it, but I can’t fault anyone for enjoying the change of pace. But all things being equal, I would much rather have seen Prowl in the therapist’s chair.
Also, if you’re someone who thinks they both did horrible things and they both deserved to be punished, I appreciate your fairness.
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feralandmoonstruck · 2 years ago
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Falling In Love Will Kill You Pt 1
WC: 985
Tag List: @adie-dee @pheita @kainablue @jezifster @aschlindartroom
A fiery presence blasted her door open. It smashed into the wall wholly flattening the stop in its haste. When it met the wall it punched a hole through the sheet rock that spidered all the way to the ceiling. The door itself splintered with the force of it. She screamed, dropping into a ball in the kitchen. 
"I am the great Caldizaar, come to claim your soul," a voice boomed.
Heat swept over her, thick and choking, as the creature approached. A timer went off, its shrill beeping cut through the terror. Slowly, she picked herself off the floor.
"My brownies are done," she said despite the haze of fear and heat that saturated everything.
The monster approached in long steps that wavered in the heat coming off his legs. "I care not for your human tricks." His voice was still unbelievably loud, and she flinched away from it.
Somehow she was able to pick up her oven mitts. Her movements were slow, the heat pressing down on her from every side. Mechanically she shut the timer off and opened the oven door. Nothing felt real, but the brownies would burn otherwise. She set them on the counter without a thought of how it might damage the surface.
"Human," the creature growled, "I have come to claim your soul. Submit to me and I will make it as painless as being ripped from your body can be."
She couldn’t fathom the situation at hand, and yet she spoke. "Would you like a brownie?"
The creature recoiled with a hiss. "I will not sink so low as to try your vile mortal food."
Slowly, the panic eased away to draw her back into her body bit by bit. Her heart was still beating like a rabbit, stomach turning at the horror standing in her living room. The chocolatey scent of the brownies enveloped her. She shrugged, "They're good, especially fresh out of the oven."
Caldizaar loomed closer towering over her, its heat making her sweat and stealing her breath. "Mortal,"it growled, "you will come with me or I will kill you here and now."
She pulled off one mit and pulled a bottle of water from the fridge. Caldizaar watched her, his eyes blazing. She took a deep drink before speaking.
"Can I at least take a brownie with me? I would hate to just waste them."
"You'll not have a body once I take your soul."
"Then can I have one before we do the soul ripping?"
Caldizaar blinked, "Why do you not cower in fear, human?"
"I mean, getting threatened to have my soul ripped out isn't really the scariest thing. You would not believe the shit I've gone through in retail." She shrugged and carried on, "And not being able to go back to work or anything sounds like a pretty sweet deal to me. So, like, what's your plan after you steal my soul or whatever?"
The fire in Caldizaar's eyes dimmed. "You will die. I will carry your soul off to eternity."
"Sooo… like hell? Are you taking me to hell? Wait," she waved her hands, "do I get to be a ghost? Can I, like, haunt people and shit?"
"You will not be able to enter the mortal plane after the taking."
She shrugged, "Well that sucks, but whatever. Can I ask a favor?"
"Yes, yes, I will permit you to indulge in your mortal 'brownies' since you're so persistent about it."
"Awesome," she flashed a smile, "but that wasn't the favor."
"You are the most stubborn mortal I've ever met. What do you want?"
"You think I'm stubborn? You should meet some of the bitchy ass ladies that come through checkout lines. But, for real, after you tear my soul out could you take my body and just throw it as high into the air as you can? Like, if I'm gonna die I would like my dying wish to be getting yeeted off this mortal coil. It would be fucking hilarious."
"You are the strangest mortal I've ever had to deal with."
"So will you do it?"
Caldizaar sighed, "Fine. I will grant you your dying wish. But you must tell me what 'yeeted' is."
She laughed, long and loud, "It basically means something is thrown as hard as you can."
"What a bizarre word. Why would you not just say that?"
"Yeeted is funnier. Okay, but for real, I'm gonna need you to chill out for me. And I mean that literally. It's hot as fuck in here and it's making me sweat. And I'm gonna be pissed if you burn my brownies. They're my last meal, apparently."
"Eat your food." The fiery aura around Caldizaar faded away until all that remained was a body like coal, embers still flickering within.
    “Good, thank you.” She pulled a knife out of the drawer and carefully cut the brownies into squares. She tossed the knife into the sink and took a rubber spatula out of a small pot sitting next to the stove. She scooped out one of the edge pieces and bit into it. “Mmm that’s the good shit right there. You sure you don’t want one?”
    Caldizaar narrowed his eyes at her.
    “Oh c’mon, just one bite! I promise it’s good.” She held out her own brownie. “We’re not faeries. Eating our food doesn’t mean that you’ll be stuck here forever.”
    “Will you submit to your death after this instead of continuing to bother me?”
    She tilted her head back, rolling her eyes at the ceiling, “Ffiiiine if you insist. You try a brownie, I’ll eat another piece, and then you can tear out my soul or whatever.”
    Caldizaar took the treat from her hand, sniffed it once before taking the smallest of bites. She watched him, the way his face moved from annoyance to skepticism and then to surprise. He took another tentative bite.
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obae-me · 4 years ago
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Tail Wagging Wing Flapping Fun
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This idea is thanks to @astaroth1357​ ! It’s a short guide on how to influence their demon forms to do something...embarrassingly cute. I write this fluff with no regrets. Enjoy. 
Sure, it might be a bit disconcerting at first getting used to the sight of humanoid creatures having unusual things like horns and wings and tails (oh my), but it comes with a benefit. While their words and demeanor might suggest otherwise, their demon forms might involuntarily reveal some of their hidden feelings--or not so hidden feelings. Your new mission, should you choose to accept it, is to figure out what sort of scenario sets off these uncontrollable actions. Let’s get some tails wagging and wings flapping, shall we?
Note: Difficulty ranges from 7 being the most difficult and 1 being the easiest.
Extra Note: Seems the brothers happened to come across this guide, hopefully they didn’t mess with it...
Lucifer
Difficulty: (7/7)
Hands down, this man is the hardest one to get a reaction out of seeing as he is always aware of how he is perceived, probably due to that prideful nature of his. Not to mention, he’s only ever in his demon form on rare occasions such as parties or political events. Or, most often, if he needs to use it for intimidation, and you’d rather not get a good look at his wings when he’s ready to obliterate someone or yourself for that matter. So, it goes without saying that this might take some planning or some timely good luck. Perhaps begging if you’re not above it. 
When to do it: Your best chance of success is to catch him when he’s either distracted, so sleep deprived he can’t even see straight, or just flat out drunk. If you choose the first option, chances are, once he’s back in his own head he’ll recall the event and make a mental note to never do it again. With the second, he’ll be at the point where he can no longer care as long as he can get his work done, but then there’s the more likely scenario where he’ll decide to kick you out entirely so he can focus. Lastly, if he’s drunk, not only will this be super effective, but he’ll cuddle you all night long. He might not even remember every embarrassing thing he did the following morning--which never happens, just for everyone’s information. Even in an intoxicated state, he’s in complete control with no embarrassing moments to speak of--Anyway, this is your best choice, but even then he only gets really drunk when he’s with Diavolo, not to mention refraining from coming home until the late...very late hours of the night when he knows no one will be awake to watch him stumble to his room. So, you’ll have to be diligent. Maybe take a nap. 
How to do it: You might think it would be praise, him being Pride and all, but Lucifer knows after so many years that words can often be hollow. Compliments and sugar-coated phrases are mostly used as a means of manipulation or getting something in return. Don’t get him wrong, he does like them, might even give you a slight smile and a pleased hum if you tell him how stunning he is, but he will know you probably expect something in exchange. So, for him, the best way to get his wings aflutter is to do something for him. Actions speak much louder than words and are much more precious to him, especially if you do so unprovoked. Make him some tea! Bring him food in bed! Dust his record collection! Sweep the floor in his study! The list can go on, it’s all up to you to decide what to do, but make sure he knows it's for him. He likes to be pampered--I mean, served. 
What happens: It will take him a moment to register. He’s not used to someone doing something for him so freely before. As a punishment, sure, but of your own volition? You did look expecting, no matter how hard you tried to hide it, but the only thing you were anticipating was his happiness and reaction, nothing else. The wings against his back have no choice but to twitch and shift, and he notices you eyeing them each time they move. As they fluttered, you beamed, and all he could do was roll his shoulders to try and keep the infernal things tucked against his back. The more you smiled, the more they were restless, feathers falling from their place as they twitched with emotion, threatening to wrap around you, to shield you, to envelop you, all like he was a hen protecting a baby chick. Depending on how weakened he is, or how much he cares for you, he might do more than just some shifting wings. He does his best to control himself, he really does, but the joy and warmth flooding his body from all his affection for you can make him do the unthinkable. His entire body will shutter, shaking and rattling him like a wet dog. His wings will jut out from his back, quivering in the air. When all is said and done, the black feathers coating his wings are extremely puffed up, a stunned and embarrassed expression hidden behind his new unruly and disheveled countenance. 
Mammon
Difficulty: (1/7)
If Lucifer is the hardest, Mammon rolls in as the easiest to get a reaction from. He’s very expressive in everything he does, and his demon form doesn’t change that. If it’s not gambling, he has no desire to keep himself under control, and he’s very much an ‘actions now, thinking later’ type of demon. In fact, when you’re around it nearly ends up worsening, he ends up being so flustered and distracted he’s usually unaware of the things he does or says, which gets him in a lot of trouble. However, because of this, it’s so easy to get him to do all the cute things you want. 
When to do it: Honestly, it does not matter. The only things required are himself and you in the same place, and the two of you are already basically attached at the hip. Truth be told, you don’t even need to be near him to get him sheepish, but that’s a secret he tries to keep to himself. You two could be alone in your bedroom, out for a walk in the garden, in Diavolo’s castle, even in the back parking lot of a cheap run-down restaurant. It is not important to him. As long as he has you, anywhere is a party. Public? Private? No matter. Either way his brothers will find out and tease him about it. Getting him in demon form isn’t an issue either. He’ll transform at the drop of a hat if you asked him too. 
How to do it: Much like Lucifer, the most obvious answer is incorrect. You can buy Mammon all the stuff in the world, but his Greed will still want more. Besides, that’s all anyone expects him to enjoy anyway. Everyone thinks just giving him money or gifts will make everything better, but he’s more complex than that! Well, it kinda does make him feel happier, but--oi, that’s not the point, we’re supposed to be gettin’ deep here!--What will really make him melt for you is compliments. This demon loves to be praised, because it doesn’t happen often. Why? Cus he’ll get a big head about it, but that’s Lucifer’s problem, not yours. Tell him how proud you are of him. Let him know how handsome he looks. Assure him you know he’s smart, and how much you look up to him. Tell him how grateful you are that he’s your ‘first’. It’ll get to him instantly and fuel his self esteem for weeks. 
What happens: The skin stretched over his wings will contract, causing his wings to fold into themselves only to burst open again. It’s this strange sort of flapping motion that reminds you of an umbrella opening and closing. Mammon won’t even notice, not until you gush over it. After that, he’ll be so flustered by his involuntary movements that he’ll try to chase his own wings, circling around on his feet while cursing. He’ll do his best to keep them hidden from you behind his back, but you can still hear the fluttering. Pretending like he didn’t hear you, he’ll attempt to get you to repeat what you said. This is your chance to take things to the second stage. If you bombard him with enough sweet words, he’ll have no choice but to bounce from foot to foot, shifting the weight on his feet as joy floods his body. The wings attached to his back will then waggle up and down, waving themselves in the air. You’ll be permitted to watch this for a while before realization dawns on him and he goes back to manhandling his blasted demon form. At one point he managed to grab one of them with his mouth and growled even. You have it on video. 
Levi
Difficulty: (2/7)
The second easiest. Just above Mammon in difficulty due to the fact that he’s in his room all the time and does his best to get himself out of humiliating situations. However, he’s truly an open book, and an emotional one at that, which is why he and Mammon tend to butt heads so often. They’re more alike than either of them will ever admit--w-which is not at all! How anyone could--could see similarities between Levi-chan and stupidmammon is ridiculous!--Similar or not, you could simply look in Levi’s direction and he would blush, and so of course when he’s in his demon form, there will be no hiding his emotions there either. 
When to do it: It will have to be in his room, it’s his safe space and so he’ll be more open to expressing himself when he’s in his sanctuary. There’s no real way around this. It will have to be a good day, so try to prepare by keeping his meddlesome brothers away. Keep an eye on how much internet they’re all using, and then try to monitor them so they’ll use less, making Levi’s loading times effortless. Let Levi know in advance that you want to hang out, that way he can get his mental state in check! This should be good enough to influence a happy tail-wagging Levi for when he permits you to enter his room. 
How to do it: Safety and comfort are the name of the game. Let him do whatever he wants and don’t make fun of him for it. It’s hard for him to be passionate about the things he truly enjoys without his brothers picking it apart or ruining it altogether. Let him speak. Be patient with him as he tries to string together a coherent plot with fragmented statements like “Oh, but there was also when-”, or “Oh, and how could I forget this happened! I’ll need to go back a bit!” If he ever says sorry, assure him there’s nothing to worry about. You don’t necessarily have to be interested in the things he likes, but if you listen to him and let him feel safe enough to be vulnerable, you’ll have him in the palm of your hand. 
What happens: It will happen the longer he rambles. His tail will start to slowly sway across the floor, the gentle sheer sound of smooth scales brushing across smooth tile. The more he feels safe around you, the more traction the tail will get, happily snaking back and forth as the glint of light off his scales reflect back on the ceiling. Of course, you can’t help but stare, which he notices. He’ll grab his tail in his arms, preventing it from moving as best as he could while being a mortified mess. Although you can still see the tip of it twitching, rattling, and quivering. If you comfort him in knowing you aren’t there to make fun of him, that you think it’s actually sweet and cute he feels that protected around you, he’ll let his tail drop to the floor. Only because his hands are now being used to cover his blushing face. The pounding in his chest is drowned out by the intense thumping of his tail against the floor. At one point you managed to pet it and could’ve sworn you saw Levi’s tongue dart out of his mouth, but Levi denies it ever happened. 
Satan
Difficulty: (6/7)
Right under Lucifer as the second most difficult to provoke a physical reaction from. He’s spent millennia doing his best to keep his wrath under control, so controlling other emotions is even easier for him. Although, he’s second in difficulty only because he doesn’t care as much for appearances as Lucifer does. I mean, if his attire is anything to prove--I mean, of course Satan is the bigger man in this aspect, truly. It’s foolish to be so caught up in how you look to other people. He’s not that vain, so if anything, he’s better than his brother. Your main worry is being able to see these emotions in his demon form. Demon form usually equals violence in Satan’s case. Let’s hope it doesn’t get to that. 
When to do it: Make sure it’s a day he’s calm, obviously. Ideally, you’ll both be in a quiet place like his room or the library. If you can, make sure it’s a day where there are no distractions and no noise, which in the House of Lamentation unfortunately only comes by once every century. So, if that means paying Mammon to go on a little shopping spree, making Asmo go with him since coincidently he’s run out of his favorite perfume that you totally didn't use for this excuse, informing Beel that there’s a special going on today of his favorite snacks, bribing Belphie to go along since he’s about to get the show of a lifetime, and then ‘accidently’ letting Lucifer know Mammon stole his credit card, well then, that’s what you’re going to have to do to get some peace (sorry Mammon). Just pulling that off alone will get you some extra brownie points with Satan. 
How to do it: Be inquisitive! Ask him about anything, and it’s likely he’ll know the answer. In fact, he’s almost amused when you treat it like a game, quizzing him about any obscure and specific topic and seeing what he knows of it. If there happens to be something the two of you are unsure of, he’ll find the book and you’ll both learn together. In return, he’ll have you talk about the human world, about cultures, about topics you’re interested in. Asking questions is your ticket into getting him into demon form as well. If you simply tell him you’re dying to get a closer look at demon features because you’re so fascinated, he’ll be inclined to transform for you. Satan encourages and rewards curiosity. Of course he knows your plan already, but all your efforts just because you were eager to note how his demon form would react? Well, he’s willing to give in just to observe your feedback as well. It’s also worth noting that bringing up Lucifer in the conversation will immediately ruin your plans. Satan wants to feel special, so give him your full attention!   
What happens: You had to first coax the tail he so often kept wrapped around his leg to come loose. Once it did, it enjoyed flicking itself back and forth every so often when he was amused, the end curling up and down when you said something particularly enjoyable. They were small simple gestures, but you wondered if you could draw out more. You threw out a sudden ‘psst psst psst’ like one might do to a cat. His tail shot up straight in the air before he glared at you, albeit with a slight smirk. With a new playful expression on his face, his tail whipped back and forth harder, sharper, convincing you that he might pounce were you not careful. Although, he still seems very aware of his movements, which defeated the purpose of the involuntary aspect. So, acting like there was something on his face, you stepped over. You struck by scratching the underside of his chin. His entire tail quivered, trembling, the bony skeleton-like structure of his tail rattled. Pushing you away, he’ll marvel at his own demon form which seemed to have a new mind of its own. It tucked itself between his legs for a few seconds after the initial embarrassment, then continued to shiver and shake anytime he looked at you. This is exactly why he keeps it wrapped around his leg in the first place. 
Asmo
Difficulty: (4/7) 
Amso is another expressive individual, in fact almost more so than Mammon. However, Asmo is a master of the body, and is absolutely aware of how he moves and acts in front of other people. Every movement he makes is completely intentional, it adds to his charm, to his popularity. Every eye flutter, every finger curl, it’s all purposeful. He can’t accidently slip up in his body language! Who do you think he is? He can’t afford to do anything embarrassing, it’ll ruin his reputation. However if you get him alone--not like that, this is a wholesome guide--he might not have to worry about his image so much. 
When to do it: This part isn’t hard, just tell him you want to spend time with him, in private. After thoroughly getting it across to him that, no, it’s not as dirty as he’s making it out to be, he’ll still be happy to squirrel you away for himself. His brothers are running you ragged, they’re such brutes. He’ll make sure to take good care of you...Sometimes you wonder if he can’t control the way his suggestions sound. Perhaps interest him in the idea of a self care day. He’ll be more than happy to paint your nails, style your hair, whatever you feel comfortable doing. You might have to continuously lead him away from the idea of letting him bathe you, but he truly just wants to treat you. However, the more you spend time alone together, the more he acts a bit more like himself. When he’s around you and not in the public eye, he can let himself relax a little, instead of always needing to live up to those social expectations. 
How to do it: This is the trickier part. As Asmo is the demon of lust and a certified social media star, he gets compliments daily, several gifts from potential lovers, and all the physical touch he could ever need. At a glance, he gets enough attention than any one person should ever need. However, he secretly craves quality time together, and no not like what you’re thinking--Unless you want it to be, and then he’ll happily oblige~-- He needs time to destress, to wind down, to spend time with someone who doesn’t care if he’s perfect all the time. Make him feel comfortable in his own skin, and I don’t care what he says, because there’s a hidden part of him that isn’t. So sit him down for a movie night, convince him to take off his makeup. Let him relax in his demon form since not only is it truly him, but you’ll need it for your plan. Brush his hair while he tells you about his day. Get him away from social media as best you can so he can “detox”, making sure it’s simply you and him. He doesn’t need Likes to be Asmo, he doesn’t need to be perfect to be worth it. 
What happens: He will act like he has no idea what you’re talking about for sure. Imperfections? He doesn’t know them. Truly he’s not so insecure as you think he is? Like Levi? Please...But your words have gotten through to him. The soft actions and...chaste time together that you’ve shown him throw him for a little loop. It’s like aftercare but...all the time with you. His wings can’t quite contract like Lucifer’s or Mammon’s, so they just bob up and down, flapping occasionally which messes up his hair. He looks on in confusion. Since when had he been so focused on you that he forgot how to present himself? It drives him insane, how embarrassing! And of course, the more you convince him he has nothing to be worried about, how it’s actually adorable, the more flustered he gets. You always knew how to compliment with no other motives. Instead of a wagging motion, his wings will move from side to side, hitting against each other. It sounds like light clapping. Asmo hates how his wings move like this, striking against each other when he’s pleased. He’s worked so hard on controlling it, and now he’s doing it in front of you. He’s immediately going to go hide, but it doesn’t prevent you from hearing the adorable sound of tapping. 
Beel
Difficulty: (3/7) 
The third easiest demon to get those special demon form movements from. He really cares for you, like a lot, and he’s the only one who isn’t afraid to say it and show it. In fact, the only reason why he isn’t ringing up at number one is due to the fact that he’s not overly flustered by his movements, he’s doing them on purpose to show you he cares, which is kinda what you’re going for here. Getting a reaction out of him without him being in full control is going to be a little bit harder, which is why he’s coming after Mammon and Levi. You want to catch him off guard, making him do things he wouldn’t normally do.
When to do it: You don’t have to try to sneak and lie and trick him into doing anything. He’s not worried about a ruined image or anything like that. Just make a day to spend time with Beel, tell him you’re bringing snacks, and tell him it would make you the happiest human in the Devildom to have him be in his demon form. That’s all you have to do, Beel loves your honesty, it lets him know you trust him and in return he trusts you. Super easy. 
How to do it: Bringing him food will definitely achieve putting a smile on his face and getting him in a better move, but it won’t bring out the soft side of him, and you want maximum softness. Beel is always taking care of his brothers, being the backup when Lucifer cannot, and just generally doing his best to keep the peace in the family. He’s the big strong bodyguard, the protector. So, to really throw him for a loop, to make him act beside himself, you’re going to protect this boy. Let him feel small even though it’s physically impossible with how large he is, especially in demon form. Let him be weak and vulnerable and safe in your arms even if they’re half the size of Beel’s. Give him snacks, make him sit on the floor and tilt his head back into your lap. You can try to have him sit in your lap-- Just be careful, the last thing he wants is to hurt you, seeing as how you’re so fragile…--He rarely ever drops his guard, so it’s a nice change of pace for him. Plus, he finds it absolutely adorable trying to be his protector, attempting to act three times your size. But he truly appreciates what you’re going for, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel nice to be taken care of for once. 
What happens: You’re able to hear the deep buzz of his wings as they flutter against his back. He frowns, immediately causing the noise to halt. He still doesn’t particularly care for these new ones compared to his older ones. However, the pleased look on your face along with glimmering eyes causes a touch of pink to grace his cheeks. Alright, he can’t deny you what you want. So he lets his wings do what they want. They vibrate intensely, a small whirlwind kicking up in your bedroom, the buzz turning into a deep hum. Your eyes go wide, at least until the intense winds almost knock you to your feet. Then the air stops and you’re wrapped up in his arms. You have to squirm out of his arms to prevent him from becoming the shield again. He’ll try to tell you that he’s not cute, so persuade him he is. Sometimes he wishes he had wings like Lucifer’s so he could wrap you up in them, but he supposes his arms will have to suffice. Every so often now, he lets his wings buzz for you, grateful you accept him for who he is. Unfortunately, no matter how hard you try, he always goes back to being the one protecting you. Although, every so often now he’ll come to you to feel safe. 
Belphie
Difficulty: (5/7) 
The demon of sloth is far too lazy to even walk most of the time much less moving his tail. A lot of times, when he is in his demon form, it ends up dragging itself across the floor. Not to mention he’s got a nearly indestructible emotion wall built up around him in the form of apathy and a bit of bratiness. Getting him to become so physically and emotionally moved by you to lose control of himself is going to take some work. 
When to do it: He’s asleep during the day mostly, so if you attempt to do it during normal hours, you’ll need to have a crazy amount of luck. So, it’s suggested you approach this demon at night, very late at night. So late, you know you’ll have regrets in the morning, or hopefully no regrets if you manage to pull this off. It will have to be past curfew, because if there’s anything Belphie loves more than sleeping, it’s opposing Lucifer. Get him alone where the sky is full of stars and the house is plunged into slumber. 
How to do it: Let him feel validated. Of course, there’s a lot of...grey area around him for some things, but in the here and now, just listen to what he has to say. He has seven older siblings, it’s easy for his voice to get lost in the clamor. Maybe if someone had just listened to his woes before taking action, things wouldn’t have gone the way they did. And, he did spend a lot of time alone, where he wasted countless nights hoping someone would just talk to him. So he appreciates how you can sit there, staying quiet--which nearly every one of his dumb brothers seems to be incapable of except his twin--letting him be heard. Who knows, if you feel vulnerable enough to share some of your deeper problems, he’ll find a newfound respect for you. There’s something about being able to relate to someone, to be able to spend hours just going back and forth where each party just makes them feel accepted. Of course, he’ll act like it’s no big deal, that this isn’t special, that this means nothing to him. 
What happens: It’s slow, like almost everything about him. But, you can see his tail lift itself up off the ground, the end curling. It likes to slowly sway, the furry end gently dangling back and forth in a soothing motion, like it was being blown by the wind. That’s all you can really get out of him, since anything more would be too much effort. It’s very subtle, but you notice every detail. Like most things about him, it makes you sleepy somehow, the placid rocking motion. It takes a very long time till he realizes what he’s done. Then his tail will hit the ground with a faint thud. If you ignore it long enough, out of the corner of your eye, you’ll watch it drift back and forth against the ground, a barely noticeable pink hue to Belphie’s cheeks. The more you look away, the more it’ll curl around to where you’re sitting, making the demon of sloth blink, attempting to tug his tail back away from you. It’ll crawl back, moving so slowly you can’t notice the changes anymore, but he does, and he can’t tell why it keeps trying to protect you from behind. Oh well. Best to not think about it. Right? 
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dotthings · 4 years ago
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The gaslighting needs to stop. Systemic power imbalanced in the tv industry are real. Network interference is real. Erasure and unkindness towards marginalized characters is real. 
I’m more on the canon analysis end of things personally, but I assure you the fans trying to figure out WTF happened here and account for stuff that objectively, even the people more skeptical acknowledge is weird and points back towards network interference, try to debunk their own theories. They are telling you that, they are transparent about their information, if you don’t feel like playing detailed murder wall, then don’t, but to deny there is a very very real power imbalance behind the scenes that hurt marginalized characters and fans, and hurt the story, is toxic. Stop it. 
Things like the Spanish dub and people who have worked on the show coming out of the woodwork to support Destiel should be a clue. Latin America believes it’s a mutually requited love story, canon confirmed from both sides, because that is what aired on a big tv network there. And watch out for that US-centric thinking that somehow thinks this doesn’t count. (Also plot twist: the US is the restrictive market. Wake up).
My wheelhouse is more canon analysis so I’m going to say now that the gaslighting about canon, about aired canon, about confirmed canon, about implied canon, seems to me a whole lot of toxic detached-from-reality hand waving so hard to still, STILL!!--try to deny the validity of Destiel. I’m glad some of y’all think this is merely hilarious, and after not showing up and not being supportive and not sticking your neck out at all to protect Destiel shippers from bullying, you came back just to eat the popcorn because it amuses you and I’m supposed to think that’s pro-Destiel supportive or something, or it’s people who have no horse in the race who just want fandom entertainment so everything’s a joke while they reinforce the exact attitudes that let this kind of systemic oppression perpetuate and get away with erasing marginalized voices in the tv industry, in fandom, in stories. Nice work, people. Your holier-than-thou attitude is real convincing. 
Then there’s the people trying to convince everyone it’s convincing to play false equivalency cha-cha and as if people only see this as canon due to a) 1 slash joke b) they stared at each other that one time c) drapes. Because old school fans are so proud that in their day, nobody wanted their queer ships to be canon and Destiel is just like *insert whatever slash ship of the past that had about 1/10th of the loud textual material and canon development Destiel has*. You want to try to argue against the epic nature of the text on Dean and Cas, hey give it your all, but it’s not going to hold up. If I started listing off the immensity, things that are textual plot points, it would be a 3,000 word essay. Stop playing false equivalency. Stop trying to artificially yank this back into the past because you can’t handle the textual validity of Destiel.
Deal with the fact that this is not an easily classifiable situation.
Even if in the end the same old systemic crap stifled its full due, and that’s the part that is tiresome, Dean and Cas deserve better than have their actual canon content demeaned.
After the story we have seen. After 12 seasons of deep-dive development. After Cas was finally openly confirmed as queer, and in love with Dean, in the final season, 2 episodes from the end, and Misha echoed it, and from Dean’s side, because full confirmation on Dean’s side is being held down, Jensen protected a romantic reading, protected people’s right to see Dean as in love with Cas not having a chance to speak his heart. Protected the right to that reading within the ambiguity that he knows is as far as the canon was able to take it. After the ship became canon confirmed as at least unrequited love story. Whether Jensen ships it or not, he has been very loudly and openly protective of fan readings and has been very openly excited about 15.18 and the handprint, he knows this is a great story and he’s been openly excited about how excited and joyful fans were about that episode. 
But what we have seen on our screens, what the story told us, transcends the muzzles placed on it. What we have seen is a mutually requited love story. We already saw in action how Dean loves Cas. We are left with, in the end, the silencing of Dean Winchester. Gosh I wonder why the silencing of Dean Winchester. Why was it necessary. Why was he not even permitted to speak at all, to anyone, to confide about how he even felt about Cas’s love confession. Why did Jensen have to do the heavy lifting to meta it for us. Why did Cas have to be left fully out of the series finale on a show he was so key on for 12 seasons, as a 3rd lead. Why is that? Because the only thing the creative team would ever be allowed to do by corporate is friendzone it and they didn’t want to friendzone it. 
So we are cursed with ambiguity from Dean’s side. And if the series finale had done better by Dean’s story, including his death, and by Cas’s story (instead of shoving him out of sight), if it hadn’t erased Eileen and Saileen, if it hadn’t failed Sam’s story, if it hadn’t been a regressive, awkward mess, most shippers would have accepted ambiguity if Dean and Cas has been given at least the respect of a reunion, if Dean had at least been given the chance to partially speak even if it couldn’t be removed from ambiguity. But the system was too scared of it. It had to be held down and muffled hard.
It was yanked out of the story artificially in ways that don’t match Destiel’s narrative importance before the series finale and don’t match 12 seasons of storytelling. It’s artificial. It is a silencing. And it shows. 
That sudden silence was a scream.
"The writers” were for it. “The writers” wanted to tell that story even if network interference prevented it. Some of us were gaslighted and smeared and bashed just for pointing it out, and we turned out to be right.
DESTIEL IS CANON. And the parts where fans still have to rely on interpretation for have ample, AMPLE, story evidence and external evidence--that has nothing to do with deeper dive murder walls, it has to do with support shown, and confirmed information--all point to a mutually reciprocated love story.
How many more times do shippers have to be proven right before people stop this. I was bullied for several seasons just for saying Destiel was a purposefully crafted a valid textual reading, by my own lane. For asserting it was a love story designed to dodge under network radar. I was bullied for years before that by antis, who didn’t like seeing people love this ship too much, who didn’t like that I refused to get down on my knees and label myself as delusional just for seeing it, for refusing to bow down and say “it’s only about 2 brothers so I am wrong to say Destiel matters too.” 
The unkindness in this fandom over all this continues to be overwhelming. Get your shit together.  You worship your favorite actors and then they show you up every time by being kinder and more open and understanding than fans manage to be. Jensen and Misha are showing you how to roll and people are ignoring it in favor of continuing to try to silence and demean Destiel shippers.
For Destiel shippers, don’t let all this gaslighting and shaming nonsense and the systemic corporate nonsense that wants Destiel silenced knock you off from your reading of canon. It was valid. It was real. Thanks to the magic of bleedback effect, now it was always textual, the subtextual has been transformed retroactively, and it’s from both Dean and Cas’s end. If you still feel doubt on Dean’s side, because we didn’t get the same loud explicit confirmation, go back to the text itself. If you believed it already for Cas, if Cas’s confession to Dean only validated what you already knew, why can’t you see it for Dean, because it’s already there. 
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monstersandmaw · 4 years ago
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Male vampire x male character (nsfw) Part Four
Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.
Sorry for taking 84yrs to post this. I thought I had shared it. Sorry. Hope you enjoy all the same.
Wordcount: 10,904 (story total: 23,704)
Heads up in this part for continued, but easing, tense familial relations, some angst/heartache (not heartbreak though), and some (consensual) blood drinking.
Part One (sfw), Part Two (nsfw), Part Three (nsfw)
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Alec let out a shaky breath and crossed to the sofa, sinking down onto it as his legs finally gave out. “Vampires,” he said, hardly daring to believe the word he was uttering.
“Yes.”
“And you’re one?”
“… Yes.”
“And my family…?”
Sebastien’s voice was tight on the other end of the line as he said, “Hunts my kind. Well, those of us who aren’t registered with the ‘Guild of Hunters’ —” his tone turned acrid as he spat the words out, though he kept his voice low and quiet.
“What does that even mean? I don’t know what any of this means… And did you know about my family? I mean, before? When you started dating me?”
Sebastien took another deep breath. “Yes. I knew. And it was a long time before I fully convinced myself that you did not.”
If Sebastien had thought it was some kind of trap, that would explain his reticence at the beginning for sure.
“And were you planning on telling me any of this?” Alec snarled. God, his chest hurt so much. The deception was like Jeremy cheating on him all over again, only this time the betrayal was coming from two fronts at once: from his love life and from his family. Not that he’d had all that solid a relationship with the latter to start with. Perhaps this explained why.
“I hadn’t planned on becoming your boyfriend at all,” Sebastien snapped.
“So, what, I was just a quick diversion? A casual fuck you kept coming back for because I’m such a fucking chump? Is that it?”
“No,” Sebastien sighed. “Not at all. I fell for you. Like the horrid cliche I am, the vampire fell for the hunter, and by then I had no idea how to tell you. I’ve not been with a human before, so this is all very new to me.”
Alec ran his fingers through his dark hair to buy himself a moment. “You… You haven’t?”
“No.”
“How… How old are you?”
“Do you really want the answer to that?”
“Yes!” His phone was slippery in his fingers now from the sweat on his palm but he couldn’t bring it away from his ear long enough to put it on speaker. He needed answers.
With another cavernous sigh, Sebastien said hurriedly, “Very well. I was born in 1897 and turned on the battlefields of the Great War — World War I, that is. I was dying, and a vampire named Felicity who had been working as a field nurse turned me. My first run-in with your family was not long after I moved from France to America. They were working with the American Hunters’ Guild on a case which had nothing to do with me.” He let out a shaky breath and said, “I got in the way and I nearly died. Those were the days before the treaty, of course, and before I moved to England.”
Despite his still-spinning mind, Alec managed to croak, “What treaty?”
“Those of us who get our blood from sanctioned blood banks and do not live-feed are exempt from being hunted like animals.” He spoke like he was quoting from a law code; cold and clinical; detached.
God, the way he said it made Alec’s skin crawl. It was as if he were being permitted to exist on the grounds of good behaviour and, he supposed, that was exactly the case. Even so, Alec couldn’t help the next words that just fell out of his mouth. “So you weren’t planning on feeding from me?”
“Of course not,” Sebastien retorted but then appeared to rein himself in with yet another steadying inhale. “No. It’s been decades since I’ve fed from a human directly. I didn’t plan on starting with you.”
Alec slumped back into the sofa cushions and stared up at the ceiling of his tiny apartment. “Fuck.”
After a long silence, Sebastien’s gentle tenor sounded in his ear. “Are you alright?”
“No,” he said. “I’ve never been close to my family - my dad was always an arsehole, but… I can’t believe Theo’s involved in all this. He was such a sweet kid, and we were really close until…” he swallowed thickly around the rising lump in his throat.
“Until?” Sebastien prompted when he stalled again.
“I can’t believe this is all real,” he muttered. “Until he turned sixteen and started to ‘work out’ with dad. I was at uni by then, getting my fine art degree, but whenever I came home he was just… different. Harder. Sharper. More focused. Guess it makes sense now… Well, as much as… you know…” he gestured vaguely to the empty apartment with his hands, “… as much as all this can make sense. Fucking… vampires…”
After a heartbeat, Sebastien added softly, “Quite literally.”
Despite himself, Alec snorted. “So… where does this leave us?”
Now it was Sebastien’s turn to feel clearly uncomfortable. Eventually he said, “Alec, I don’t think it’s wise for me to see you currently. Not with your family being what they are.”
His heart twisted, even though he’d been half expecting it. “You still think they’d… what, stake you, or whatever it is that vampire hunters actually do to you lot?”
“There are many ways to kill a vampire,” he said flatly. “And your family knows all of them, probably more. You need to work this out with them first as well. Talk to your brother. He seems the more reasonable…”
“I can’t believe Ellie’s in on it as well. And my mother? Fuck…”
“Talk to them.”
“Will I still see you at work at least?”
The awkward silence told him all he needed to know, even before Sebastien said, “I just sent in my letter of resignation.”
“That was quick,” he hissed, stomach dropping. “You only just left.”
“Supernatural speed,” he replied bitterly. “Comes in useful for typing papers and getting out of awkward situations…”
That sparked another question in him. “Supernatural powers, huh? Can you turn into a bat too?”
“No.”
Then he thought of Sebastien’s Halloween outfit. “Wolf?”
He thought he detected a faint smirk in Sebastien’s response. “No, sadly. No shape-shifting for me. Felicity is not of any extraordinary bloodline, and thus, neither am I.”
“Right,” he grunted. “Of course. Is she… is she still around?”
“Felicity? Yes. We meet every now and again. She and her wife spend most of their time in Venice these days.”
“Her wife? She a vampire too?”
Sebastien swallowed audibly. “Yes.”
“Did Felicity turn her too? Would that make her wife your sister?”
“No.”
He frowned. “Did she know her as a human though?”
“Yes.”
After a moment of spinning thoughts, Alec asked, “Did… you turn her?”
“One doesn’t tend to turn one’s own intended. Between a sire and their turned, there can grow… tension. Not always, but it can be enough to ruin a relationship that was seemingly solid before. Something about exchanging blood changes the soul… or so we think, anyway. It was an honour to be asked to sire her.”
“Right.” Alec felt slightly sick. “Will I at least see you before you leave?”
“I think it best if we don’t. Not while your family is still… ‘investigating’ me.”
“Are you really in danger from them?”
“Quite possibly. My name is on the treaty, but…”
Something twanged painfully again in his chest, swiftly followed by the fizzle of fear through his veins. “But what?”
“But vampires and hunters are not supposed to sleep together, Alec…”
“Don’t bang the enemy? How very Romeo and Juliet,” he snorted. “Fuck. Why does every good relationship I have turn to shit?” he asked, not of Sebastien but of the universe itself. “What did I do?”
“Alec —”
“—Don’t. Don’t make it worse by apologising or something. It’s fine. We were only together a month. I’ll get over it. You’ll move on. Heck, you’ll fucking live forever, right? What’s a month to you anyway? Nothing, right?”
The bitterness in his own voice nearly choked him, and without thinking, or even saying goodbye, he just hung up and let his phone lie in his limp fingers on the sofa cushions. It lit up and rang a moment later, but he didn’t answer it. Six more times Sebastien tried before finally giving up.
Kay was an absolute blessing in the next few days.
He didn’t tell her immediately about the whole vampire thing, but after he’d calmed down enough to be able to look at Theo without immediately busting a vein in his forehead, he hashed the basics out with him, and then told her everything. Alec told her about his newly-discovered, secret family occupation which, apparently, stretched back centuries. He told her about the fact that his eldest sister and younger brother were monster hunters in their spare time, and he told her the real reason Sebastien why had vanished overnight without a trace — yes, Alec had gone to his apartment building, only to be politely informed by the doorman that Dr. Dulac was no longer in residence and did not leave so much as a forwarding address.
That, above almost everything else, shattered Alec’s hopes of seeing him again. Like thistledown in the wind, Sebastien had simply flitted away somewhere else.
She took it about as well as he had to start with, but when she saw the seriousness in his eyes, and when, three weekends later, she came to his apartment for a definitely-not-awkward dinner with Theo, she saw video footage that Theo and his father had captured from various hunts of supernatural creatures beyond only beautiful vampires. Then she believed him. Ghouls, ghosts, reanimated corpses, demons… you name it and Theo could tell you about it.
Alec spent Christmas with Kay’s family, and Theo met him for New Year drinks in the city, joined by Ellie. It wasn’t anything like the family dynamic he’d always longed for, but the new degree of openness between them went some way to mending his still bruised heart. Slowly. Gradually. Piece by tentative, honest piece. He never joined in, but Theo started to tell him a bit about what they did. It still sounded barbaric to him, but at least it was true.
He had no word from Sebastien, and the number he had saved in his phone had been disconnected.
With the arrival of spring, Alec found himself more than usually dissatisfied with his job. He was a good teacher, and he enjoyed seeing his students’ talents evolve and grow, but the ever-increasing admin ground him down, and the politics of the faculty and the university as a whole wore on him.
“Have you seen this?” Kay asked one afternoon as they shared a takeaway coffee beneath the drifting cherry blossoms. Petals spiralled down like pastel pink and white wedding confetti, and he watched with an absent smile as a terrier snapped and sprung around on his hind legs trying to catch them while his owner stood and talked with her friend nearby. “Oi!” Kay asked, digging him in the ribs.
“Hmm?”
“Have you seen this?” she asked, shoving her phone under his nose.
He blinked, refocusing his eyes, and read the article’s headline aloud. “Council offers artists the chance to win a sponsored exhibition in the town hall with this unique competition.” He blinked. “So?”
“So?” she gawped. “You can’t be serious?”
“Send me the link. I’ll forward it to my students. They might like that.” That earned him a smack upside the head, and he scowled. “What was that for?”
“Alec, you might be the dumbest smart guy I know,” she said. “I showed it to you so that you could enter it, you giant idiot.”
He blinked. “Me?”
“I saw those charcoals you did the other week of the cathedral! They were amazing!! And the abstracts too… I still want one, by the way.”
“It’s already wrapped up for your birthday,” he groused. “You really think I should do it?”
She rolled her eyes and drained the last of her coffee without gracing him with an answer. Of course she thought he should.
“When’s the deadline?”
“Next Thursday,” she said without looking at him.
Alec licked his lips and swallowed. “Will you help me pick some images to submit?”
Her answering grin was feral.
In all honesty, Alec forgot about having even entered the competition until the letter dropped through his door six weeks later announcing that, to his utter astonishment, he had been selected as the winner. Tears blurred his eyes and he sat down heavily at the tiny kitchen table. He’d never entered any of his own art into anything like this in his whole life, and the first time he does, he gets a whole fucking public exhibition out of it?
“Maybe this year won’t be so bad after all,” he murmured. “New year, new start…” His chest still ached when he thought about Sebastien, and he hoped he was doing alright, wherever he was.
Theo had been searching for him, probably by way of apology for lying to his big brother for all these years, but he’d turned up very little. Sebastien had gone to Venice first, it seemed, presumably to spend time with Felicity and her wife, but had disappeared completely after that, with only rumours flickering here and there that he was in Paris, St. Petersburg, Prague, and then potentially Florence. Maybe.
“Venice seems like a pretty sunny place for a pair of vampires to live,” Alec commented, but Theo shrugged.
“They don’t burn up immediately in sunlight, or your professor would never have been able to take a day-job at the university. They’re sensitive to it, some more than others, but it takes a full day of constant sunlight beating down for them to burn properly.” The callousness of his brother’s response shook him, even after all these months, and Theo must have seen it on his face because he sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said, and then added, “You really loved him, didn’t you?”
Alec shrugged. Yes, he wanted to say. I thought so. “I only knew him for a month or so,” was what he said carefully instead. “And even then… turned out I didn’t know him anyway.”
Theo, who had been lounging on Alec’s sofa with his legs spread and his head tipped back into the cushions while Alec made supper, asked quietly, “Did he seem… normal to you?”
“Normal?” Alec asked, not sure he’d heard his brother correctly.
“Yeah… like… did you ever suspect he wasn’t… you know…?”
“Human?”
Theo grunted and nodded his head. “Yeah. I guess.”
“No. Obviously not. Never crossed my mind. Why would it have?”
Theo scowled and turned his eyes to regard him. Alec knew that Theo looked like a younger version of himself, if maybe in better shape, and he wondered if he’d have the same steely look in his eyes if he’d been deemed ‘man enough’ to become a hunter, or whatever bullshit criteria their arsehole father had used to select which members of his family were to become soldiers and which would live normal lives.
“What?” Alec demanded.
“But you slept with him, right?”
“I’m not talking about that with you,” he said, briefly brandishing the wooden spoon at him.
Theo pulled a face. “I’m not asking about your sex life. Gross. No, I mean…”
In that moment, Alec spotted a flash of something in his brother’s blue eyes that softened him to the kid. He turned off the gas and went over to where Theo was now sitting hunched over with his elbows on his knees, running his hands through his hair. When he looked up at Alec’s approach, his face showed open vulnerability in a way he’d not seen since they were young children and Theo had got himself into trouble at school.
“What’s going on?” Alec asked, seating himself next to his little brother.
Theo bobbed his knee like a deprived caffeine addict and bit his lip. With glassy eyes, he croaked, “I keep asking myself if we did the right thing…”
“What do you mean?”
The bravado of Theo’s early twenties melted away to become a worried, frightened, guilty little boy again and he said, “I mean… if what we do is right…”
“You mean… hunting?”
“Yeah,” he croaked.
“What set this off?”
His brother quirked him a humourless smirk and said, “You always did know when something was bothering me.”
Alec remained quiet, just watching him.
“We teamed up with some hunters from Edinburgh for a ‘vamp gone rogue’ case and we finally found her yesterday. She… She’d been turning people; trying to amass some kind of small army to take over from another vampire further up north. She was insane… like, completely, sociopathically insane, but… the people she turned… they were just…” he blinked, and Alec saw with a jolt that his eyes were full of unshed tears. “They were still just people.”
He feared he already knew where this was going. Still, he asked, “What happened?”
“Father wanted to put them down. They were terrified, chained up… still on the point of lashing out…”
Bile rose in his throat. “Oh god…”
“One of the hunters said she knew of a vampire who could help rehabilitate them; help them adjust to their new lives. One of them didn’t want to live as a vampire though, so father just…”
Theo didn’t need to finish that for Alec to know that father had ended the newly-turned vampire’s life in a heartbeat. “And the rest?”
“The other three went with the hunter. I don’t know what happened, but… I trust her. It’s just… father taught me and Ellie that vampires are mindless killers when they feed… that you can’t get close to them, that all they want at the end of the day is blood no matter what they tell you…  but…” he looked up at Alec. “You’ve been fucking miserable since the whole Sebastien shit-fest. I know you’ve been trying to hide it, and you’ve got the exhibition coming up next weekend, and that’s great, but… I know you’ve stopped putting yourself out there. And we did that. We fucked it all up for you. I just…” he ran his hands through his hair and sent it into wild disarray. “I just wonder if you could really have been happy with him after all.”
Alec pulled his brother close and hugged him. “I’m not going to lie,” he murmured into his brother’s dark hair. “I’m furious with father for keeping everything from me, and for making you and mum and Ellie lie to me and Angie about it as well, but… if I hadn’t seen Sebastien’s eyes go red — yeah, I thought it was just a reflection or something — and if I hadn’t seen the way he sleeps literally like the dead… I’m not sure I would have believed you anyway. I don’t forgive him for it either, but…” he sighed deeply. “I forgive you, Theo. And Ellie.”
“And mum?”
“I’m still working on that.”
Theo went slack beneath him and snaked his arms around his brother’s waist for a moment. “Thanks,” he mumbled into Alec’s shirt.
“You’re still coming to the exhibition?” Alec asked as he pulled back and went back to the stove, giving Theo a moment of privacy to pull himself together.
In truth, Alec was a little shaken too. Their relationship had been slowly patched over the intervening months, but it still wasn’t particularly close, and the matter of Sebastien had been a permanent, proverbial elephant in the room. That Theo was questioning their father’s teaching came as an immense relief to Alec though. He poured them each a glass of wine, and the two spent the rest of the evening in a quieter kind of closeness than they’d yet shared.
When the evening of the exhibition drew round, Alec was quite frankly, a bit of a mess.
“C’mon,” Theo grinned, patting the lapels of his jacket down for him and grinning up at him. “Where’s that Twayblade hunter courage, huh?”
“Must have skipped me and all gone to you,” he quipped back. “Fuck. I’m so nervous. Why am I so nervous?”
“No fucking clue,” Theo chuckled. “You’re awesome and they’re gonna fucking love you.”
“Language,” Alec said instinctively and Theo’s laughter redoubled.
“You’re a big fucking hypocrite, you know that?” Theo laughed just as Kay sidled up with three glasses of champagne awkwardly held between her hands.
“Help a girl out here, would you, boys?” she asked, proffering the glasses to them.
Alec resisted the urge to down it in one — he’d probably only choke on the bubbles anyway — and filled his lungs instead with a big gulp of air. He tried to send all his nerves into the air and then blow it out of his body in one heaving sigh to leave him calmer, but it just gave him a head rush, so he sipped the wine and turned to look around the gallery from the corner where he’d been lurking.
“What if no one shows up?” he blurted, earning him a scowl from Theo and a pout-and-eyebrow-raise combo from Kay.
He needn't have worried in the end. The marketing team had done their work, and within an hour the place was heaving and all but three of his pieces had been reserved. Scratch that. Two.
The fact that almost all of his students had turned up as well to cheer him on and trade high fives, and scrounge free alcohol and food from the canape trays, warmed him in ways he didn’t know were possible.
Overwhelmed and a little bit tearful, he stepped out of the town hall’s main exhibition space and into the small corridor that led to a fire exit and a grotty back car park beyond, letting the flush die down from his cheeks. This was what he’d really wanted right from the moment he’d graduated all those years ago; to be an artist in his own right, with people buying his work at exhibitions… It almost made him giddy to think that he had a chance to do this full time now. It seemed that Sebastien had been right when he’d said he could really make something of himself.
Ah, there was the crash in his mood that he’d been waiting for. Nothing good lasts forever, right?
Would Sebastien have been proud of him if he knew about this? Would he have been there that night, by his side? Would they even have lasted that long anyway, even without his family’s interference?
The noise in the room was gradually dying down when he gathered enough courage to step back into the echoing hall. The pale wooden floors gleamed in the low light, the white of the temporary exhibition walls almost glowing, in stark contrast to the black and grey of his charcoals. He’d chosen mostly charcoals for the show, with a few acrylic abstracts for flavour, and apparently people loved them. Every single one had a red ‘sold’ dot beneath the label now, he noted as he cast his eyes around the room.
Then his gaze snagged on someone standing with their back to him, hands clasped loosely behind them, a long, silver-blond ponytail hanging down their back. And Alec’ vision slipped sideways.
Sebastien.
It had to be him.
No one else stood with posture like that. No one else was so tall and lean and elegant and god-damned graceful, even when just standing still. And no one else stood quite as still as that.
He let out a ragged breath and swayed slightly, glancing around. There was no sign of Theo or Kay just then, and only one or two couples meandered admiringly around the room. And there, fixated by one piece in particular, stood Sebastien.
Inhaling for courage, Alec approached and came to an unsteady halt a few feet away from him. He didn’t look real, somehow. His beauty had always been striking, but now in the low light he seemed like a mirage, with his warm olive skin and contrastingly pale hair, that cut-glass jawline and —
— He turned and met Alec’s gaze with dark brown eyes alight and glassy.
“You’re here,” Alec breathed, at a loss for anything else.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Sebastien said, and the sound of his voice sent a wild tingling through Alec’s whole nervous system. The man — vampire — looked uncharacteristically shy, uncertain, as he half turned to face him.
“Gotta say,” Alec said, scratching the back of his head, “I wasn’t expecting to see you again.”
“Should I leave?”
He chewed his lower lip for a second and Sebastien’s eyes tracked the movement before he blinked and looked back at the charcoal in front of him. It was of the Lady Chapel of the cathedral; one of the most tranquil places Alec had ever been. A shaft of light lanced down from a Gothic window high on the right, scattering fractured shards of light onto the stone floor, and behind it, just barely visible as a grey, misty outline, sat the small altar.
“You’re religious?” Alec asked.
“Mm,” Sebastien nodded. “Surprising, I know, given my ‘condition’, but there you have it.”
All the smalltalk then suddenly boiled up into thick irritation inside Alec and he scowled. “Where have you been? And why now? Why come back now? What do you want?”
He must have raised his voice fractionally because the couple admiring the seascape to their left shot them slightly scandalised looks, as if he’d started swearing in a sanctuary, and he bit back the wave of anger, halting it in its tracks.
“Shall we step outside for a moment?” Sebastien asked and Alec nodded tersely.
Passing Kay and Theo who were sitting in the chairs near the drinks table, Alec cast his eyes at them and watched Theo tense visibly. Kay laid her hand on his thigh and shook her head, at which Theo nodded and sat back, eyes hard, mouth set, but at least he didn’t appear to be on the point of leaping out and staking Sebastien on the spot.
Alec mouthed a silent ‘thank you’ at them both, and followed Sebastien out on to the street.
“You’ve patched things up with your family then?” Sebastien began, standing perfectly still beside the brick wall of the Victorian building while Alec paced.
“Mostly just with Theo, but yeah. Why are you here?” he asked again.
“Honestly? I missed you. Couldn't get you out of my head. I went all over Europe, and even to Asia briefly, and nothing I did distracted me from you, from leaving you. I had to come back.”
“You could have called,” he said, instantly regretting the way it came out like a petulant teenager’s sulking.
“And what would that have achieved?” Sebastien asked evenly. “I was hundreds of miles away.”
“You could have come back sooner? Talked to me in person?”
Sebastien sighed. “I was afraid that your family would come after me. I needed to disappear.”
“Theo convinced father to let you go. As you said yourself, your name was on the treaty, and you didn’t hurt me or hypnotise me, or whatever… did you?”
“No,” he said, pale brows pinching with evident distaste.
“Could you have?”
Sebastien levelled him with a dark look. “Yes, but… that’s not something I enjoy doing. It’s a survival mechanism — to make people forget what they’ve seen — it’s not something to be used lightly.”
“Ok, but you could have, and you didn’t, so that was another reason to let you go,” he said. God he wanted to kiss him. The realisation hit him like a gut punch and he turned away. Alec ached inside and out for those lips, those hands, those eyes… “Fuck,” he whispered, barely audible. “Are you staying?”
“Do you want me to stay?”
Alec rounded on him, frustration pouring out of him again. “Don’t answer my question with one of your own. Are you staying or not?”
Sebastien remained eerily calm, but a heartbeat later Alec saw that it wasn’t serenity in his eyes but sadness. “If you want me to, I’ll stay. I want to try again, Alec. I want… I want to be with you. I’ve never felt for anyone what I feel for you.”
“Feel? As in… present tense?”
“Yes. It hasn’t faded. Not with all the days and distance between us.”
“God, you sound like a shitty romance novel hero…” he scoffed. “I almost believe it.”
Sebastien spread his hands and said, “I am who — and what — I am. You know me, Alec, in a way that no one else ever has. I was utterly myself with you, except for the fact that I kept my nature from you. I hope you can at least understand why, if not forgive me. Everything else was genuine. I have never done that — been that open, that vulnerable — with anyone.”
“Even knowing what my family are?”
“Even then.”
Alec looked up at him and saw his own reflection in those dark, rich brown eyes. “Show me.”
Sebastien’s angelic face soured into a confused frown. “Show you what?”
“Your eyes. Your fangs. Show me what you are.”
“Now?”
He looked around. The street was empty on either side, with the only people around gathered outside a bar further up the street.
When he turned back to say yes to Sebastien, he found blood red eyes glowing in the man’s face. “Holy fuck,” he hissed. Every already-chiselled line on Sebastien’s face had sharpened somehow, his cheeks hollowing a little, perhaps to account for the additional hardware he now sported in his mouth, and his eyes seemed a touch more sunken. And they glowed as if lit from within.
Heartbeat thrumming out a wild tattoo, he stepped closer and Sebastien went utterly still. His chest ceased to rise and fall, and he didn’t even blink as Alec raised his fingers to his left cheek. “Show me.”
Sebastien swallowed and parted his lips. Angling his jaw a little to one side, he showed Alec the elongated canines, three quarters of an inch long. “Careful,” he murmured as Alec made to touch them. “Vampire venom is potent, even in small doses.”
“Does it really do what the hunters say it does?”
Sebastien’s red eyes glittered almost playfully. “I don’t know,” he smiled, seeming to relax a fraction. “What do they say it does?”
“Drives your victims wild, acts like a date rape drug, makes humans lose their will and their inhibitions…”
At that, a hardness returned to his features and his lip twitched in a lopsided snarl, like a wolf backed into a corner. “That’s certainly one take on it,” he said. “It creates a rush of euphoria. It’s supposed to make feeding a pleasant experience for all concerned. Endorphins in the blood make the taste sweeter, and the human feels no pain or fear.”
“Right. Gotta say I like that one better,” Alec said with a shaky smile. “But I’m not gonna risk it right here… And fuck me, your eyes are incredible.”
“They’re still red, hmm?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
Closing his eyes and tilting his face upwards a little more towards the cloudy night sky, he inhaled deeply. His features softened again, and Alec watched, fascinated, as the slight bumps behind his closed upper lip slid away into nothing, presumably as his canines retracted into his gums. When he opened his eyes, they were their usual, endlessly dark brown once more.
“Better?” Sebastien asked, oddly self-conscious.
“No,” he said. “Just different.”
Something prickled on the back of his neck and he turned to find a woman silhouetted against the light of street lamp halfway up the road. “Friend of yours?” he asked, tense.
“Felicity. She came with me.”
“Why? Surely you don’t need a wingman… or, you know, woman.”
With a tiny smile, Sebastien said, “You make me more vulnerable than you realise, in more ways than one. And we weren’t sure if your family would be here.”
“Or whether they’d want to flambé you…”
“Precisely.” He inclined his head and the woman did the same, turning and vanishing even as Alec blinked.
“Can you do that too?” he asked, still gawping after her.
When he turned back, he found that Sebastien had stepped in close to him - close enough that his faint, woody cologne wafted gently around them and he felt his knees wobble slightly. He’d missed this. Oh god, he’d missed this. “Mmhmm,” Sebastien hummed. “I can.”
“Kiss me,” Alec whispered. “Please…”
Sebastien didn’t need telling twice. He took Alec’s face in both his hands and crushed a passionate kiss to his lips so hard that Alec’s mind went perfectly blank for a few beautiful seconds. When he came to, he grabbed Sebastien’s narrow hips and tugged him close, making the vampire grunt as their bodies connected.
This time, he took Sebastien’s ponytail in one hand and began to pull on it gently. Sebastien yielded at the pressure and tipped his face back, exposing the entire column of his throat to Alec without resistance. The gesture left Alec stunned and breathless. In his research with Theo over the past months, he had learned that for a vampire to expose their throat to another implied absolute trust. Overwhelmed, he pressed his lips to the bare skin and felt Sebastien gasp, grabbing at his shoulders suddenly to keep himself upright.
Over and over, the vampire shuddered tangibly beneath his touch and gasped sharply again, panting. As he shifted his hips against him, Alec felt Sebastien’s growing hardness, and at the same time, Sebastien drew back, eyes screwed shut. “Stop,” he laughed. “Not here.”
“I want you,” Alec moaned, one hand on Sebastien’s chest. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much.”
“I want you too,” Sebastien smiled, opening his eyes. They glowed scarlet again. “And because of that, this —” he said, gesturing to his red eyes, “— isn’t going to go away quickly this time.”
“This too?” Alec said, boldly cupping the obvious bulge in Sebastien’s smart black trousers gently with his hand and making the vampire groan.
“Yeah, that too.”
“Your place or mine?” Alec asked with a dizzy grin.
“You decide. I’m booked into a hotel one street over for the next two days,” he said. “If that affects your decision in any way.”
“Yours,” he said. “I… I’ll just…” he looked over his shoulder and caught sight of the exhibition banner dangling by the door. “I should…”
Sebastien nodded slowly. “I’ll be here.”
“You’d better be,” he snarled as he adjusted himself and prayed no one would notice. He took a few steadying breaths on the threshold of the town hall and then disappeared inside.
Kay raised her eyebrows at him when he reappeared.
“Not a word,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Your hair’s a mess,” she said conversationally. “Is it windy outside?”
“Fuck off,” he grimaced and she laughed. “Where’s Theo?”
“He left out the back way,” she said. “But he told me to tell you to enjoy yourself tonight, and that he’ll stand by whatever makes you happy.”
Unexpected tears prickled his eyes and he tugged her into a hug that was probably meant for his brother.
“You can thank us later,” she said, shoving him off her. “Go be with your Prince of Darkness…”
“I’m not sure how much he’d like you calling him that,” he said as he stepped back. “I’ll have to wrap things up here first…”
It seemed to take forever, but he finally found the events coordinator and after an interminable conversation full of congratulations, agreed to stop by the next day to take down the exhibition and sort the sales out. His heart was thudding when he stepped back outside, but he let out a huge sigh when he saw Sebastien leaning against the brick building, face tilted towards the moon that was just peeking out from behind a bank of cloud.
“It’s like one of your charcoals,” Sebastien said without tearing his eyes from the sky.
Alec crossed to him and smiled when Sebastien met his gaze, red meeting blue. Alec slid his fingers into Sebastien’s where his hand hung quietly by his side.
“Ready?” the vampire asked.
Alec nodded, and let Sebastien lead him back to his hotel.
They barely made it into the lift before Alec was kissing him, backing him into the mirrored sides of the lift with a thud before the doors had even closed. He stopped suddenly, drew back and laughed, and Sebastien — who looked like he’d just got whiplash — asked, “What?”
“Vampires do have reflections after all…”
Sebastien rolled his eyes and gave an indecorous snort-laugh. The sound was rich and warm and it filled Alec’s whole consciousness for a moment. “It’s only the antique ones with genuine silver backing that don’t show our reflections. Technology has evolved, thank goodness. Now, if you don’t mind, you were kissing me senseless…”
“Sorry,” he laughed, grabbing Sebastien’s white shirt collar and tugging him down again. They nearly didn’t get out of the lift at Sebastien’s floor, but as the doors began to close again, Sebastien slid his foot into the path of the doors and dragged Alec out.
Clothes landed in a steady line on the carpet between the door of his hotel room and Sebastien’s bed, ending with them both in only their boxer-briefs on the pristine white surface of the bed. Alec was tipped back onto the duvet and lay there staring up at Sebastien who was now no longer hiding his nature from him at all. Red eyes blazed in his face and as he opened his mouth to breath heavily, the tips of his fangs were just visible. There was no denying that he was a vampire.
“Was it like this before?” Alec asked hoarsely. “I mean… did I just not see it?”
“I had to work very hard to rein all this in,” he said, kneeling on the bed and crawling a little way up it. His own boxer briefs strained at the crotch where his erection tented the fabric, and Alec’s own black ones were stained with a little spot of wetness where his cock twitched with eager interest. “I only let it slip once or twice, but you were distracted at the time.”
Alec smirked and then moaned as Sebastien’s palm skimmed up over his groin and over his stomach. He’d always been a bit self-conscious about the softer parts of him, but Sebastien worshipped him like he was some kind of immortal god, lavishing attention on him over and over until he was shaking and gasping and sweating. “Please!” he begged after what felt like hours. “Oh god, please…”
Sebastien slid off the bed and deftly removed his own underwear before encouraging Alec to lift his hips for him and drawing his boxer-briefs down too. Before Alec could think or process what was happening, Sebastien was between his legs again and had swallowed the entire length of his cock to the back of his throat in one.
“Oh fuck,” he hissed, mind whiting out.
Sparks of pleasure shot up his spine as Sebastien worked him alternately with his mouth and his hand.
He teased him, licking the slit at the tip where pre-come beaded profusely now, teasing the delicate folds of skin until Alec thought he was going to shatter apart with want. Just before it got too much to bear, Sebastien would take him back into the wet heat of his mouth and work the underside of his cock with his tongue, swallowing occasionally and making Alec’s head spin all over again.
His balls tightened and he spread his legs wider, instinctively opening himself to Sebastien.
The vampire moaned against his cock and Alec whimpered. Pulling off him, an obscenely inviting thread of saliva and pre-come connecting them briefly, Sebastien sat up and reached for the top drawer of the bedside table. “Vampires neither catch nor transmit diseases,” he said, “But if you still wish to use protection —”
“— I haven’t been with anyone since you,” he rasped. “And I’m clean anyway…”
“As you wish,” Sebastien smiled, withdrawing an almost-new bottle of lube and sitting back down between his legs. Alec eyed it and Sebastien laughed shyly. “I opened it last night…” he admitted and Alec grinned.
That smirk shattered into an open-mouthed groan as Sebastien’s finger slid inside him and he began to prepare him. There was nothing perfunctory about it either. Sebastien took his time to work him open, his fingers fucking into him slowly, almost reverently, until he crooked them and Alec yelled as white-hot pleasure shot through him.
“Still so sensitive,” Sebastien crooned and Alec just shivered in response. His thighs were quivering too now from the effort of not bucking upwards into the empty air, his cock drooling freely over his slightly soft stomach with each futile twitch. He knew he was a wanton mess, and he couldn’t quite find it within himself to care. It seem to drive Sebastien wild anyway.
When Sebastien added a third finger, still stroking up and down his thigh with his other hand, Alec broke.
“Please, please, please,” he whimpered, out of breath and desperate. He cracked his eyes open and looked down at Sebastien to find that his red eyes had been almost eclipsed by his blown pupils. He gave a weak buck of his hips to try and encourage Sebastien to get on with it, but the vampire seemed utterly transfixed by him. He worked his fingers over Alec’s prostate gently but with absolute precision, and it was going to make Alec lose his mind altogether.
“Pleasepleaseplease, I need you, please…” he wailed as Sebastien’s mercifully short and blunt fingernail caught him just so and sent another jolt through him.
Finally the vampire moved, but as he withdrew completely, the loss almost shattered him. “Shh,” he smiled, stroking a soothing circle at Alec’s hipbone. “I’m still here…”
Alec whimpered like a wounded animal but his foggy brain accepted that the loss was only temporary, and he watched as Sebastien took his own flushed cock in his hands and slicked lube up the length of it in a couple of efficient strokes, head bowing under the attention it was receiving at last. He’d focused solely, completely, on Alec’s pleasure for all that time, and the realisation sent a fresh wave of lust rolling through Alec’s entire body.
He spread his legs, but Sebastien caught Alec under his left thigh and raised his leg easily, exposing Alec completely. Before Alec could process anything, his tip was nudging at Alec’s entrance, and then he had sunk all the way in to the hilt.
Sebastien froze then, bowed forwards over Alec like a supplicant, canines openly bared, eyes screwed shut, not even breathing.
“Sebastien… please…” Alec grunted. He’d never felt as full and whole as he had with Sebastien inside him, and yet this wasn’t enough. He’d ached for this. For months, he’d ached for it, and still it wasn’t enough. “Bast, please…”
Finally, the vampire opened his searing red eyes and began to move.
Slowly at first, he picked up his pace until Alec’s back was arching and his fingers clawed great furrows in the sheet beneath him. With each thrust, Alec saw stars at let out little fractured, broken gasps. Sebastien was quiet, almost silent, while Alec himself was unable to stop the sounds from tumbling out of him. He moaned and whimpered, gasped and cursed and begged until Sebastien yanked him further down the bed and lifted his hips a little way off the mattress entirely.
From this new angle, it was so blindingly good that Alec went alternately taut and limp with ecstasy. “I’m close,” he gasped over the slap of Sebastien’s hips meeting his skin.
The vampire snarled then; an inhuman sound that sent the hairs prickling all down Alec’s body.
“Come for me,” Alec begged in a whisper, opening his eyes and watching as Sebastien chased his release with a ferocity he’d never shown before. He wasn’t careless with his strength, but he was certainly forceful. Had Alec wanted to grunt ‘stop’, he knew the vampire would halt, but that was the furthest thing from his mind as he watched the flawless perfection of this man above him. “God you’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “Come for me, Bast…”
And at the sound of his name, uttered in little more than an abbreviated wheeze, Sebastien went still, hips spasming as his spine arched back like a bow at full draw, mouth open, head thrown back, fangs bared, eyes rammed shut, a sheen of sweat covering his perfect, bronze chest, his silver hair falling around him like a veil.
The sight of him like that wrenched Alec’s orgasm from him with such sudden force that he almost blacked out, and he clenched around Sebastien’s still-twitching cock as he spilled all over himself. Vaguely, he felt Sebastien trying to withdraw, but he grunted, “Don't… not yet… please… I… unngghh…” Unable to finish the sentence as the last shock waves fluttered through him, Alec went limp against the bed, breathing hard, his blood roaring in his ears.
He wasn’t sure how much time passed before Sebastien did finally move, but eventually he slid his softening cock out of him and Alec grunted at the cool slide of the vampire’s release down his thigh. He was too spent and exhausted to care about the mess though, and as Sebastien collapsed onto the bed beside him, he cracked one eye open.
Sebastien lay on his left side with his cheek pillowed on his bicep, facing Alec with his eyes closed, and he didn’t seem to be breathing. Tentatively, clumsily in the daze of his recent, mind-blowing orgasm, Alec reached out and touched the delicate skin on the inside of his arm. Sebastien jolted like he’d received an electric shock, and opened his eyes. They still burned bright red, but the rest of his face seemed a little softer somehow.
“You alright?” Alec asked.
Sebastien nodded.
“Been a while too, huh?” Alec grinned, flopping back down to stare at the ceiling where little points of light still sparkled across his vision every now and again.
“Not since that last night with you,” he said, words slurred with exhaustion. “Unless you count my rather pathetic climax alone last night, which I certainly don’t.”
“Not at all?”
He shook his head but didn’t speak again. The vampire lay perfectly still — perfectly undead — and perfectly vulnerable beside him without even a sheet to cover him. His cock now lay soft across the top of his right thigh, still drooling a little and making a mess on his olive skin. Not half as much mess as Alec was currently sporting over his torso, he mused with another smile.
With Sebastien showing no sign of stirring, Alec rolled carefully off the bed and headed on shaky legs to the shower. When he returned, Sebastien hadn’t moved, and he slid in beside him, drawing the sheets up around them and lying there to stare at him in the dimness of the unlit room, processing everything. Sebastien was back, and apparently wanted to stay. He could hardly believe how well that day had gone.
Waking the next morning with a cool, lean body pressed against him, Alec sighed, relieved that it hadn’t all been some kind of fever dream brought on by the stress of the exhibition.
The fact that the man next to him was an undead vampire who didn’t breathe in his sleep was a bit unnerving, and the way he had his cheek now resting on Alec’s collarbone and his nose pressed against his neck should also probably have been a bit of a warning, but Alec couldn’t bring himself to move, except to place a soft kiss on his forehead.
Suddenly, as if surfacing from boundless depths, Sebastien’s body heaved and he drew in a great, sucking, rasping inhale through his mouth. His lips brushed against Alec’s pulse and Sebastien began breathing heavily there for a moment.
“That will never not be weird,” Alec murmured.
“Apologies,” Sebastien muttered, trying to roll away. He paused, freezing, and then whispered, “I fell asleep…” as if that was something miraculous.
“Yeah, you passed out almost as soon as we both finished,” he snickered.
Sebastien turned his big, dark, doe eyes on Alec and said, “No, you don’t understand. Vampires don’t just shut down like that the way humans do. We only sleep somewhere we know is secure and safe…”
“Oh,” Alec said significantly as the realisation plunged through him. He tucked his arm under Sebastien’s head and tugged him closer so that their bodies were once again flush with one another. “I’m glad you felt safe…”
Sebastien sighed, trailing his fingertips across Alec’s chest in absent circles. His cock twitched too, and Alec shot him a look.
With a bashful smile, Sebastien said, “I can’t help that I find you attractive, Alec…”
“Wasn't complaining,” he grinned.
It was a long time before they rolled off each other that morning, with the sun well up and the sheets damp with sweat and tangled around their ankles. Vampires, it seemed, had a longer refractory period than humans, but Sebastien also came so big when he did that Alec wasn’t surprised. He gave everything to Alec when he came that Alec could quite happily lie there all day just staring at him as he came down afterwards.
The room was chilly, however, and when Sebastien seemed to have dozed off again around ten o’clock, he headed to clean up. Again.
As the steam billowed around him, he tipped his head back into the stream of searing water and nearly yelped as the shower door opened and let in a rush of cold air as Sebastien stepped into the stall as well. Cool hands found his waist and then strong fingers kneaded his arse appreciatively before Sebastien kissed and nibbled up his shoulder and traps to his neck. Instinctively, Alec tilted his head to one side and Sebastien moaned, pressing open-mouthed kisses there over and over as the hot water coursed around his lips.
The sensation must have been too much for him because he pulled back sharply with a hiss and Alec turned to face him, water still streaming down around them. Sebastien stood frozen, eyes red, staring at Alec’s neck. “I shouldn’t…” he began. “That was stupid of me… I…”
“What happens to the treaty if the human is willing?” Alec found himself asking. He’d thought about it a lot before drifting off the previous night. If Sebastien had wanted to drink from him, to feed on him, what would happen to the tenuous peace between hunters and vampires like him.
“Don’t,” Sebastien said through gritted teeth. His canines were elongated, Alec noted.
“What happens?”
“The only way it’s permitted is if the human agrees by written contract to become the vampire’s source.”
“‘Source’?” he asked. “That sounds like an official title.”
“It is,” Sebastien said, relaxing a fraction and putting his hands back on Alec’s hips. His cock stirred with interest and Sebastien smiled. He leaned back in, as if proving to both of them that he could do this, and kissed down Alec’s neck again from the junction of his jaw all the way to his collarbones. He ground his hips against Alec and they both began to harden again.
Alec’s hand went to Sebastien’s cock and he started to stroke him gently, knowing he was still sensitive from their last round. Sebastien let out a ragged exhale, the cool breath making Alec shiver slightly in the heat of the water.
“So…” Alec pressed gently, thumbing across the top of Sebastien’s flushed cock.
“Hmm?” he asked, a little stunned.
“What is a source?”
“A human becoming a vampire’s source means that the vampire drinks only from that human. It’s… an ancient - ah - custom,” he said, gripping Alec’s shoulders as Alec upped the speed and adjusted his grip to tighten just a little around his now fully hard cock. “Rarely used today, but still… nngh…”
“Mmm?” Alec grinned, loving that the vampire’s thoughts were unravelling under his touch. “Go on.”
“You’re a menace,” he laughed breathily, nipping playfully at his neck and then kissing him hard. Alec’s back suddenly hit the icy tiles behind him and he yelped, rearing into Sebastien who wasn’t all that much warmer, though the heat of the water was raising his body temperature from the ambient temperature of the room.
“So if…” Alec began, somewhat distracted as Sebastien’s kisses continued and the vampire raked his fingers through Alec’s wet hair, scraping luxuriantly across his scalp hard enough to make him break off and groan. “If… if I wanted to become your…”
“Don’t,” Sebastien whispered. “Not yet. Not so soon after… all this time.”
The subtext was clear. Let’s see if this is going to last before I risk my life with the hunters guild and your family, shall we?
“Fair enough. Nothing to say I can’t suck you off now though, right?”
“Nothing at all,” he whispered and then immediately cursed as Alec sank to his knees and did just that.
It was only as he was handing in his own letter of resignation that the truth really sank in for Alec. He’d gone from post-grad assistant in the department to a full lecturer, where he’d stayed for six years, and now he was moving a little way out of the city, and moving in with his boyfriend of a year. A vampire, nonetheless. His life had gone from miserable to wonderful in that relatively short time.
Sebastien met him at the edge of campus after he’d handed the letter personally to the head of department. Standing under the verdant cherry trees, Sebastien looked like a vision. He wore tight, dark jeans and a loose shirt, half untucked, with his long hair tied back in a loose plait, fly-aways wisping around his head like mist. Alec walked straight up to him as the vampire opened his arms, flung his own arms around Sebastien’s neck, and hugged him.
“All done?” Sebastien asked without pulling back.
He nodded and popped back down from his toes. They were both tall men, but Sebastien had a few inches on him still. With a slightly doe-eyed expression, Sebastien smiled and kissed him gently. “I love you,” he said softly between kisses.
“Come on, you big sap,” Alec said. “I’ve got to be out of my apartment at four.”
“Such a romantic,” Sebastien sighed melodramatically.
With Sebastien’s supernatural strength, loading up the little van they’d hired for his stuff didn’t take long, and after giving his keys back to the landlord and signing the final bits and bobs, they were on the road.
The old farmhouse had been a find of Sebastien’s, and it needed some work. “Well, what else am I going to do on long, impossibly sunny summer days while you’re running your own business from the little art studio at the bottom of the garden?” Sebastien had laughed when they’d first viewed it, the back of his hand pressed to his forehead in a terribly ‘put upon’ gesture. “I might as well spruce the place up.”
“It needs more than a light ‘sprucing up’,” Alec had said, brows raised at the rotten wooden beam and the tired 1950’s kitchen. “And don’t tell me you made your wealth flipping houses back in the day.”
“Would you rather I told you I robbed the Bank of England and they still haven’t noticed?” he replied archly before planting a kiss squarely on Alec’s scratchy, stubble-darkened cheek.
With a scowl, Alec had shot him a look. “I honestly don’t know whether that’s a lie or not…”
“It’s a lie,” Sebastien snorted. “I can’t believe you think I’m a criminal.”
“You’re a vampire,” he’d retorted. “You could probably have just walked in there and demanded a small fortune in gold ingots and they wouldn’t have objected…”
“Please. I do have some scruples. And besides, I only use my charms on poor, miserable artists to get into their pants…”
“And their hearts too, apparently,” he’d scoffed as they’d left the dilapidated house with Sebastien’s hand in Alec’s back pocket, fingers firmly cupped around his arse.
It took another six months for the work to be completed, and even with Sebastien’s not inconsiderable talents in the DIY and home improvement departments, they still had to call in a team of builders to fix the pointing in one wall and to sort out a few other structural issues. But by the end of the work, the farmhouse was quite frankly the most stunning place Alec could ever have dreamed of living. Exposed oak beams and a fireplace big enough to park a tractor in were only half of the best features of the place.
One clear, frosty evening in late October, the pair sat outside on the recently finished patio, a small cast iron fire-pit crackling away and sending sparks and heat twisting up into the night sky, a glass of wine each in one hand and their free hand clasped around the other’s.
“Bastien…?” Alec said, not taking his eyes from the mother-of-pearl points of light in the sky above.
“Mmm?”
“I’ve been thinking a lot lately about… about becoming your source.” He didn’t miss the sharp inhale from his partner, nor the way Sebastien went completely still in the wooden chair beside him. He also didn’t say anything. “I’d… I’d like to ask how often you’d need to feed from me, and… what the repercussions would be for me as the human…”
Still Sebastien didn’t speak for a long time, and Alec worried he’d spoilt the serenity of their evening with the sensitive question. Finally, the vampire cleared his throat and Alec realised with a jolt that he was near tears.
“Bast?”
At the sound of the pet-name, Sebastien blinked rapidly and two mirroring tears tracked down his cheeks in perfect synchrony. “I thought you’d forgotten all about it,” he said in a hoarse croak. “I didn’t want to bring it up again.”
“You should have done, silly,” Alec groused, and he was met with a watery smile that didn’t meet his eyes at all.
“Well, to answer your questions,” he said, trying to sound unaffected even if he clearly was. “Every three months is safe enough, so long as you take an iron supplement. If you don’t, you might feel a little more tired right afterwards. We generally take slightly less than a person would give at a blood donation, if that helps put it into context.”
Alec turned and frowned at him.
“What?”
“You’ve gone all clinical,” he said, shuffling a little and setting his wine glass down on the edge of the stone fire pit. “Do you not want this anymore?”
Sebastien swallowed thickly and looked away. In the ochre and copper flicker of the flames before them, his suddenly red eyes seemed to glow like coals. “More than you know…” he rasped.
“Then what’s the problem?”
He chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment before turning back to face Alec with glassy eyes. “I’m frightened.”
Alec’s scowl deepened and he rose from his chair to straddle and sink down into Sebastien’s lap. Settled in his new position, he kissed Bast’s lips and stroked his loose, white-blond hair out of his eyes. “Of what?”
“Losing control. It’s been… decades since… If I hurt you, Alec… it would break me.”
“How about we start small? Just a taste?”
Sebastien looked so young then in the firelight. He suddenly looked like the twenty year old man he had been when he’d been conscripted into the army and sent out to battle to die, only to be turned at the eleventh hour by a nurse in a field hospital who’d seen something special in him. Thank god she had, Alec mused.
Alec leaned back a little and brought his index finger slowly to Sebastien’s lips. The vampire swallowed, red gaze drifting down to watch its approach before looking back at Alec’s face, searching, questioning, doubting.
Alec nodded and slid his fingertip a few millimetres into Sebastien’s mouth. The vampire inhaled, closed his eyes, and then opened his mouth properly. Alec brought the pad of his fingertip to the underside of his right canine, and pressed.
After a moment, the pressure gave way and a prick of pain like a needle pierced his skin. A bead of blood welled there instantly and he withdrew to let it swell. Sebastien clearly smelled the blood because his pupils dilated and he sucked in a sharp breath.
“Easy,” Alec said. “It’s only a drop.” And with that, he turned his finger over and held it above the tip of Sebastien’s tongue.
Paralysed in a heartbeat of terror, Sebastien sat rigid, frozen, wide eyed, but Alec lowered his finger to meet the slight roughness of his tongue, and Sebastien’s eyes rolled. He moaned and let his tongue play across the tiny pinprick wound, fingers digging into Alec’s hips. The tiny wound had already stopped bleeding, but he sucked gently, drawing a little taste more. Then he released Alec and stared at him, a look of stunned awe on his beautiful face.
“How was that?” Alec asked, briefly thumbing a fond arc across Sebastien’s cheekbone before dropping his hand.
“Manageable,” Sebastien murmured.
“Ok, I have to ask, do I taste good?”
The tense spell that encapsulated both of them broke and Sebastien cracked a smile, fangs and all. “Yes,” he rasped.
“So… I can become your source?”
“If you wish it, yes. You can withdraw the honour at any time. I won’t hold you to it.”
“Good to know,” he said, only half laughing. A moment later, he said, “When… When do you want to start… you know… properly. Formally?”
Sebastien’s eyes had drifted to the rabbiting pulse in his neck.
“Now?” he asked. “It’s only been a few weeks since you went to the blood bank though…”
“That’s…” he said, hands finding Alec’s waist and holding him gently. “That probably works in my favour this time. Are you sure you want this?”
“To be ‘yours’ on your terms as well as mine? Of course,” he smiled, and watched as another tear rolled down his perfect olive cheek. He tilted his head to one side, feeling a little sheepish, and said in barely a whisper, “Whenever you like.”
“Really? Now?” Sebastien hissed, chest suddenly heaving. “Just like that?”
Alec laughed quietly. “It’s not as if we’ve just met. I know you, Bast. I trust you. I wouldn’t offer this to just any old vampire, you know?”
Unable to stop the smile from twisting his lips, Sebastien finally relented with a nod. “Alright. But not here. You’re going to want to be more comfortable.”
“But I’m already comfortable here,” he whined playfully, wiggling his hips in Sebastien’s lap, eliciting a deep, rumbling groan.
With a roll of his red eyes, Sebastien sighed. “Stubborn arse,” he grumbled without sting.
“You love my arse.”
“Yes, you’re right. I do,” he said.
Tenderly he ran his thumb down the line of Alec’s carotid and inhaled deeply. “I love you,” he whispered. And then he leaned close. He took his time kissing Alec’s neck until he was gasping and rocking his hips against Sebastien.
“Please…”
“Last chance,” Sebastien said against the skin of his throat.
Alec shook his head. “I want this. I’m yours.”
So the vampire sank his fangs into the artery. After the initial surprise and sting, Alec’s whole body lit up as the venom hit his bloodstream, and he bucked into Sebastien who held him still with what should have been frightening ease. There was no fear behind the gesture, only longing and love and sweet, aching, rolling, unending pleasure.
“Oh fuck,” Alec moaned, going limp in his arms as Sebastien began to feed, withdrawing his fangs to draw more deeply on him while he held him easily in his arms. The vampire moaned, lips locked against his skin so as not to spill anything. The motion of his throat suddenly fascinated Alec as he swallowed down his own life-force, but before he could raise his hand to touch fingertips to his Adam’s apple, pleasure exploded in his mind and he forgot everything.
When he came back to himself, he was inside, lying on their bed, with a small, soft dressing over his neck, and Sebastien sitting quietly on the bed beside him, staring down at him and holding his hand. As he blinked his eyes, he frowned. “What…?”
“It’s intense the first time,” Sebastien murmured fondly. “I did say you’d want to be somewhere more comfortable.”
“ S’perfect,” he slurred. “Fuck me…” he added, more curse than command.
“Maybe later, hmm?” Sebastien smiled. There was a flush to his cheeks that Alec had never seen before, and a brightness to his eyes.
“C’mere,” Alec said, patting the bed beside him. With Sebastien lying silently next to him, Alec rolled over and hooked one leg over Bast’s thigh. “Love you,” he mumbled, sinking into a deep and exhausted sleep, even as Sebastien’s hand came up to cradle his head.
The vampire smiled, kissing his forehead. “I love you too.”
___
Hope you've enjoyed this 23,700k story! Looking forward to your comments as always. Don’t forget to let me  know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!
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tazwren · 4 years ago
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My two cents on the devolution of fandom spaces...
As a former mod of a fandom space and a woman of colour, I do not feel safe.
Seeing what has been done to so many in this fandom, by a particular group of white American women, in the name of moral policing is both abhorrent and demoralising. As it also is to repeatedly see the same narrative being shoved at everyone as the gospel truth.
A narrative that very conveniently either becomes about fic or has nothing to do with fic, depending on how people want to swing things. A narrative that will accuse a person of Jewish heritage of anti-Semitism, a person of colour of racism, a practising Muslim of being an Islamaphobe. A narrative that will define for you and me and all of us comprising this myriad of multitudes in the world what generational or personal trauma includes and what induces the same.
Those of you who know me, know what I’ve been dealing with the past few days & why I haven’t spoken up before now. Before I logged out a couple days ago, I saw what looked like more of the usual nonsense by the same group of people I’ve kept my distance from once their true colours were revealed. What I didn’t expect is that they would think themselves so above the norms of human decency and accountability that they would go after not one but two women of colour this time around in their rabidity. And many others who spoke up, as it turns out.
It hurts to see what these women, that I know of, have had to endure and to see the passivity of the community, save for a few voices, in sitting back and letting the circus rampage through town. It hurt when I was at the receiving end of it and it hurts now.
Why? Because it shows me a microcosm of the world that I don’t really relate to, that makes no sense to me with the values I was brought up with, and which reduces basic human decency to a commodity to be trampled upon and for you to be seen as weak for having. Because people who willingly laud you for your art / writing / wit, meet you with effusive claims of love and affection and friendship, who have no qualms in taking your help when it suits them, will throw you under the bus and let the wolves ravage you when it doesn't.
Before I get into that, let me talk a little bit about what has transpired over the past few days to a week, and what has been systemically taking place over perhaps the past year in this fandom.
One thing is that everyone who makes a statement about anything suddenly has people in their mentions demanding they show what gives them the right to hold that particular opinion. A critical thing people forget about fandom is that it is a place where people hide their identity for a variety of reasons, all valid, and this approach to fiction and conversations where everyone has to reveal every part of their past and identity as a means of establishing their "credentials" in order to present their views comes in direct contradiction with how fandoms operate. It violates people's rights to privacy.
The other is that there has been an increase in the voices that purportedly stand up to “speak for” the marginalised, the abused, those discriminated against and those who belong to minorities who “need to be protected / kept safe”. An admirable sentiment, to be sure. If it weren’t for the fact that none of these groups of people needed saving, speaking for or the protection of this particular group of voices.
Voices who only want to define and use these people as "model victims" to hurt other white women and establish their supremacy over both them and other POC. Voices that will present their "truth" as they see fit and sans context or present you with screenshots of snippets of conversations held in supposedly secure spaces that they have no qualms in violating in the interest of the "greater good" and claim offense / silencing if the misdemeanour is pointed out or action is taken against them, Voices that will conveniently categorize you as a "token POC" or "white adjacent" when you do not support or align with their narrative. Voices that belong to a predominantly white American group of women, whose real agenda, as is evidenced by their modus operandi, has nothing to do with real altruism or a drive for justice or indeed to right wrongs.
No, their agenda is purely power.
To hold sway over groups of followers, to shepherd them as though they are sheep who cannot think for themselves, and to set themselves up as white saviours who call out those who step out of line, or are deemed to be problematic and toxic and unsafe. To be the owners of the only "safe spaces" in fandom and to drive other groups and spaces to be boycotted or worse.
Now, I've long wondered, who indeed are these women to decide that for anyone? In a world comprising multiple cultures, religions, groups, subgroups, genders and which contains multitudes, who are these women and what gives them the right to foist their puritanical standards on everyone, very conveniently disguised as concern for the moral well being of everyone and the consumption, of all things, of fiction?
Certainly, there are many things in this world that people regard with justifiably equal dislike / horror / sadness. At the same time, there is much that is not shared, that is particular to a culture and to a person’s background. There is a multitude of perspectives that make the whole. And the white women of the United States of America have not cornered the market on what those are, or indeed even own any curatorship or censorship of the same. They cannot, because each person’s culture and background and joy and trauma is their own, as are their ways of dealing with it all.
That being said, let’s talk about their pack behaviour and the devolution I’ve witnessed on social media as basic human decency is bartered for clout.
I’m all for standing up for someone who doesn’t have a voice or a platform, or maybe afraid of repercussions to voice dissent. I’m all for being there for our fellow human beings as they face struggles of often unconscionable and unfathomable proportions. I’m all for holding people accountable for their negative behaviours as they impact the larger community.
What I am unequivocally NOT for is treating such situations as an opportunity to preach, to virtue-signal, to shame and to put on blast the alleged wrong-doers. I say alleged because that’s what most accusations are on these platforms—allegations to do with things that disturb our sense of balance or make us wrinkle our noses or that we deem bad, and therefore make the accused deserving of the full force of the community’s misbehaviour and censure.
I ask you if you were found guilty of a crime in real life—you know, the one away from your phones and keyboards—would you not have an opportunity to retain a lawyer, to plead your case in a court of law, to acquit yourself? Or, if found guilty, would you not have the opportunity for correction and rehabilitation? Yes, you say? (If you say no, then that explains the spate of state-perpetuated injustices across the USA, but that is a different matter).
Why then are people treated so abhorrently in this court of public opinion? What gives you, me, any one of us the right to judge people so vilely and with a metaphorical gun to their heads? What gives anyone the right to say you better agree with everything I say, retract everything you said and grovel for it or we will eviscerate you in public, shame you, force you to change or delete the content that offends us and still ostracise you and in some cases even threaten you with bodily harm or death, or doxx you?
Why is there no grace in how people are approached or dealt with? Whatever happened to allowing people to learn from their mistakes, where applicable, or hearing them out and giving them a chance to explain their side of something we may not fully understand?
Why is there no accountability for such behaviour on the part of the accusers?
What makes the rest of you sit back and allow this to happen? What makes you think this is in any shape or form okay to watch? Today, it is a virtual stranger at the receiving end, one you can distance yourself from quite conveniently saying Oh, she just mods a group I am in, or I only read their fics a couple times or I only followed them for their art or jokes or whatever flavour of excuse you choose. Tomorrow, it will be one of your own - or it may very well be you. And you'd better hope there's someone left to speak up for you.
The irony is you will have allowed it to happen by letting the wolf in the fold. By letting these white women manipulate you, and the community you claim to be a part of, so unapologetically, so maliciously and so unashamedly that before you can do anything about it the cancer has taken hold.
If this was happening in the world outside of social media, they would have to follow due process, to present real evidence based on facts (not based on emotions, rumours or perceptions) and would have to allow the person they are accusing to present a counter-argument, to defend themselves or be defended. Failure to do so is a miscarriage of justice and, depending on whether this is a professional or legal proceeding, they would either seriously risk their jobs or have the case thrown out of court. If not face action themselves for attempting to derail the process of justice.
Why then are they permitted to range so freely through the landscape of fandom, snarling and biting at who they please, or who displeases them?
I have no shame in saying I was at the receiving end of their behaviour for defending a friend they put on blast and I will tell you right here and now, I am a woman of colour who feels unsafe and attacked by these so-called self-appointed white saviours of your social media experience, these so-called upholders of the common morality—whatever that means—who will fight for you the evils of problematic and toxic writers who dare to have an opinion not aligned with theirs and who do not bow to their clout. Not that they care, so long as they can ignore this fact since it doesn’t fit their narrative. So long as they can ignore what has just been done to so many people in the name of cleansing the fandom.
If any one of these women were truly interested in alleviating the troubles and pains of the discriminated, the marginalized, the trauma-affected, I invite them to please come roll their sleeves up and help in the multitudes of troubles that wrack this world, not just in the backyards of their minds. My country is amidst a struggle for the basics of human life in this horrific pandemic and, prior to that, for basic constitutional rights for religious minorities. Do not patronize me and lecture me on trauma and racism and discrimination. Do not marginalise me in your attempt to pontificate and set your pearl-clutching puritanical selves above the rest, or assuage your white guilt.
A largely American audience or fanbase in this fandom is purely a function of access and interest—other cultures have vast followings for things you couldn't begin to fathom—and it doesn't mean you are entitled in any shape or form to be spokespeople for the rest of the world. We have no interest in being colonized again by white oppressors.
If you disagree with what I have said, I congratulate you on being a part of their coterie and wish you much joy in being the sheep in their fold. Kindly unfollow or block me on the way off of this post.
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thepaperpanda · 4 years ago
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Baby Sister || Sam Drake x Adler!Reader
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Summary: You’re the baby sister of Rafe Adler. It’s been a while since he was imprisoned in Panama jail in an attempt to get a clue on his treasure hunting. Missing him dearly as he is the only family member that left you, you make your way into the prison to meet with Rafe. Unfortunately, he isn’t happy seeing you. The entire situation ends in you and Samuel Drake getting a bit too close to one another.
Warnings: Smut! ♥
Words: 4194
Authors: Cass & Rouge
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PART 1
It has been half a year since the day your older brother, Rafael Adler, was imprisoned in Panama prison.
Missing him dearly, you begged the director of the facility to let you meet with your brother. It took you several visits to gain man's trust of not being smuggler of any kind, and in the end you've gotten a permit.
That day the gates of Panama prison opened for you widely, and two guards escorted you directly to a meeting room.
Dressed in a black, flared dress that reached half of your thighs, and flat, white sneakers, you stepped inside the outpost.
There was a horrible kind of climate of fear and paranoia there, it made a cold shiver run down your spine.
Some nasty comments addressed to you by prisoners while you were following the guards along a desolated corridor made your involuntary gag reflex harder than ever before.
Soon, the three of you have reached a huge, steel door. One of the guards opened them with a key that was previously attached to his belt. You were allowed inside, and as soon as you stepped in, you saw Rafael standing next to the window, he was peeking outside, at a prison yard.
"Rafael!," Your voice was nothing more but a quiet mumble.
Rafe wasn't happy, not even a little bit.
He knew there were problems coming when he heard from Vargas that there was a young girl begging to let her meet with a brother.
"What are you doing in here, huh? I told you to stay away from it, does your little female brain have problems with processing words?,” He growled, crossing arms over his chest. The last thing he needed now was his little sister dragging him and the whole job down.
Without regard for his rough words, you approached him and simply nuzzled to his chest.
The gap between the two of you wasn't too big, yet he was 5 years older than you.
Since when he was gone from your family home, you had to take care of yourself, and it was rather a thankless task. You didn't know what to do, and cried thousands of years after him.
Even though his attitude towards you was always harsh, you loved him dearly. He was your only family, and he was a role model in your eyes.
You and Rafe exchanged a lot of letters, he assured in them that he missed you equally much as you did miss him.
"It's been so long, brother. I was so scared you might be hurt... You stopped responding to my letters, so I did everything to be allowed in here... I just had to check whether you're in good health or not..."
Rafe rolled his eyes, he was getting annoyed.
"Are you done with yapping? I told you I am busy with Drakes, I am not going to waste my time on silly letters," man added, looking at you. "I left you home with everything you needed. I even hired this stupid butler just to make sure you won't die out there."
Rafe tried his best to get rid of you. Yes, you were his only family member, but most of the time you were a bit too much to handle for him. Following and nagging him. "Do you need anything?"
"I missed you... That's all," you whispered sadly and quickly took a place on a metal chair standing at the tip of a metal table. "The butler won't replace my brother, in any way. The house is so huge, so empty and cold without you being there," you lowered your head.
Anytime he was raising his tone on you, he was guilt-tripping you. You were only a girl, and even your desperate attempts in getting his attention (like trying to study all the stuff he needed in his so called work), you were always pushed aside in the end.
"If that's all you can go back home. I really don't have time for sensitivity, I didn't come here for pleasure. I. Am. Working. Here!," He said loudly, hands clenched in fists.
Rafe honestly had enough of you already. You're always coming to him because you wanted to show pointless stuff, or you needed something. It was driving him crazy sometimes.
Lowering your head, you bit your lower lip hard. You closed eyes for a moment, trying your best to hold the tears back. You never knew what you have done wrong in your lifetime to deserve such a treatment from his side.
When you cooled down a little, you got up, and not looking at him you walked to the door and banged them to let guards know the visit was finished.
"It was nice to see you all well after all," you whispered.
"Sit down," Rafe said suddenly, pointing on the metal chair. "Now," he ordered harshly.
Blinking and being taken aback by his sudden interest, you looked at him above your shoulder.
In the same moment one of the guards peeked inside.
In Spanish you thanked him and assured it won't take you long, because apparently your brother wants to tell you something.
As soon as the door was closed again, you took a seat.
"Now, stay here," he muttered, briefly patting the top of your head. "Don't even move," Rafe instructed before leaving the room, he knew the guard won't be a problem. Rafe paid a lot to get himself and Drake brothers in here after all.
A few minutes later the door opened again, but this time it wasn't Rafe. It was one of Drake brothers, the older one to be exact.
"Hello? Rafe said that there might be a nice lady to talk to?," Sam hummed and looked at you with a cigarette slipped between his lips. "Hey."
You frowned, but remained quiet, and didn't even shift in your spot. You observed the man, and you did recognise him after many of your brother stories. It was probably Samuel Drake, the older from Drake brothers. The one who had to be an expert in pirate stuff that Rafe needed so desperately in his work.
You licked your lips, and tilted your head a little. "Where's Rafe?"
Sam moved the cigarette from one corner of his mouth to another. "Um, I don't know. He said there is a nice lady here, and went on with his stuff. I'd come with my little brother, but sadly he is busy as well. You would love him, he is younger and more your age, but of course not as charming as I am," he winked and sat on the chair right in front of you.
In the first impulse you wanted to get out of the room. You were all alone with a complete stranger. Rafe has left you to the wolves again, you weren't even surprised. Instead, a rage was filling your soul.
But then a realization came to your mind; if this was one of Drake brothers, you could prove your brother your real value by trying to get some information from this man. You decided to play a little game.
You rested your chin on your hand. "So you must be the older from Drake duo," whispering, you tilted your head aside and smiled on h sweetly.
Sam nodded with a smile on his lips. "Yup! Samuel Drake at your service."
Sam heard about you, mostly about how annoying you were, but here he was, right in front of you. You were sitting in front of him in this beautiful dress, you looked cute to him. "So... He left you here? All alone?"
With a little shrug a little sigh came along. "As you can see," you looked down on your hands and rubbed them together. "My brother was never an effusive person, especially not when it came to me," adding, you slowly got up from your place and walked to the window.
Sam nodded slowly. "I can tell, we spent some time together and honestly I am surprised. I am an older brother myself, I would die for Nathan," he summed up.
Listening to his words, you peeked out of the window to see a few guards with guns patrolling the yard.
You turned to the man that was trapped with you in a room, slowly bending your ass against the low windowsill. "Your brother's lucky then."
Sam watched you without saying a word.
You decided to take over control. Knowing the place he was in, you assumed it must have been a great while since he held a woman in his arms. Playing with emotions was something you were thankful to Rafe for teaching you.
You walked to the man and simply took a seat on his lap. Gently playing with his sideburn, you licked your lips. "I've heard you're a specialist from pirates. Is that true? Are you currently looking for a treasure? My brother was telling me you're good at this."
It was happening quickly, but he didn't mind at all, they all were locked down there for a bit too long, and he surely missed the woman's company. "Yes, I am a pirate expert, and yes, we are looking for a treasure. That's why our asses are stuck in here."
"I was always interested in my brother's work, though he didn't want to share anything with me," you whispered in a sad tone. "Do you know where to look for this treasure or whatever it is?," You asked sweetly after a moment of silence. Your fingers trailed up and down his chest.
Sam chuckled, placing a gentle kiss to your cheek. "Listen, little one, I know you tried to find out something so you could tell your brother, but sadly that ship has sailed. Rafe knows about everything we do," Drake shrugged, patting your hip.
You blinked a few times, his words surprised you much. Shifting slightly in your place, you bit your lower lip, and looked him in the eye.
Sam grabbed your chin, his thumb gently stroked it. "What's wrong, Y/N?," He asked simply.
"I...," You mumbled and went quiet. You felt like a complete idiot. First, you tried to seduce the man to get information about him. And he figured your plan out so quickly.
Your eyes glistened as you gazed at him; he was a handsome man.
"Want me to get you out of here? I can walk you to the guard station. Just talk to me," Drake stated, rubbing your back.
You didn't know how to behave. Taking he was an enemy of some kind, you should have kicked him right in the balls. But on the other hand, he was kind to you all the time, even if you tried to mock him. "Yes, please," you asked politely.
Sam helped you get off his lap, then he got up and walked you to the door. Sam even opened them for you. "Honestly, pity you don't want to stay longer, but it was a pleasure to meet you after all."
You stopped him from opening the door fully. You didn't know why you acted this way, but an urge grew within your body. It's been a while since you were with a man as well. You didn't know why, but this guy was turning your head upside down. "No," you whispered and closed them, you leaned your back against the steel.
Sam chuckled. "Are you like one of those typical women that don't know what they want?," He teased you.
Blushing, you turned your head aside.
Thinking about your past, you knew you made a lot of mistakes. You knew it was wrong to blindly follow your brother's will, yet you did.
But now you wanted to decide for yourself. At least once in a lifetime. If he left you alone, like a prey you seemingly were to him, you had a right to use the situation as well, hadn't you?
You wrapped your arms around the man's chest and nuzzled him.
Sam wrapped his arms around you.
You were cute, the whole 'I can't decide' thing was getting into him.
Sam grabbed your hips and picked you up to take a good look at you. "Is there something you want to tell me, sweetheart?"
"I have never met a man as handsome and mysterious as you," you mumbled openly, giggling as he picked you up.
"And I have never met a girl as sweet and small as you," Sam said, surprised at how light you were. "So, what shall I do with you now, huh?," He hummed nuzzling to you. Sam was aware of your intention but he wanted to hear it from you.
"Put me down, that's first," you asked calmly, and as soon as he did, you looked up into his eyes. He was twice your height, towering over you like skyscrapers over a block. "Second," you pretended to be thinking hardly, "if I'm Adler, and if you're Drake, then we can think about some nice way to bury the hatchet."
"Well, that would be nice if we would have any 'hatchet' to bury, love, and we have none," Sam said, looking down on you. "I have never seen you before and if you will try to play around some more I will simply leave."
"What am I supposed to say?," You whispered.
"Tell me what you want, Y/N. Rafe told me to take care of you and I will gladly do this," Sam muttered with a mischievous grin.
You smiled at him and tilted your head aside. "Take me to my brother."
Sam rolled his eyes and lit the cigarette.
Soon, he led you out of the room and took you to Rafe.
"Oh, for fuck's sake, even Drake had enough of you?," Rafe asked deeppy annoyed as soon as he spotted you entering the yard.
As your brother was sitting with a few men, you excused them and tugged on his sleeve. "What the fuck was that?," You asked him in a lowered voice. "Who the fuck I am for you? A fucking toy you can toss everywhere and to anyone you want?," You asked him as you walked aside for a bit.
"I never asked you to tag along, you always followed me like an annoying little brat you truly are," Rafe growled. "You are an adult, go get a life and stop following me," Adler said, not even trying to be quiet.
Sam frowned at the whole situation. He didn't know you too long, but he was more than sure you didn't deserve such a treatment.
Clenching teeth, you swallowed hard. And shortly after, you aimed your brother a robust slap right in the face. Glaring up at him, you snarled. "You're deluded, brother. Think about this when you'll be fucking rotting here, all alone, with no one to reach a hand toward you. A fucking lone fool. Remember, there are still things you can't buy with your bloody cash."
You were surprised by your own behaviour and the fact you dug in your heels against Rafael.
The next moment, you stormed off the yard.
Rafe didn't take it to himself, he didn't care. "One problem less," Rafe summed up before returning to his mates.
Sam was the one to run after you. "Hey, hey. Wait, you can't just walk alone. Not here," he informed you simply.
"What can happen?," You snarled in a response. "If I'd vanish once and for all, he'd be the one to dance happily on my grave."
"You can get hurt here, and please, don't say that," Sam grabbed your arm to stop you. "You can't act like this only because he's a dick."
"I'm an adult, I can do whatever I want to," you turned to face the man.
"You are an adult, you are free to do what you want, but it doesn't mean you can waste your life just because your brother is a dick. You should show you are better than he thinks you are," Sam explained.
You listen to his words. The man seemed very wise and very down to earth. Definitely your type.
Without thinking too much, you climbed on tiptoes, pulled him by a collar, and crushed your lips on his.
Sam gladly kissed you back, after a moment he pulled away with a smile. "I did not expect that," he admitted.
Your fingers intertwined with his as you grabbed his palm. With a mischievous grin, you pulled him behind you. With a corner of your eye you spotted a guard leaving one of the rooms, and you decided to risk it all, pulling the man in that direction.
Sam wasn't really sure about it, they had things to do and they were treated like normal prisoners, but he followed you anyway. After all, you were sweet. Sweet enough to make him go after you. "You are a crazy, little girl."
You simply pushed him inside the room. You decided that if there would be anyone, you'd lie quickly that the man was leading you to the exit and you two messed the way.
Fortunately, the room was empty. As soon as the door closed right behind the two of you, you pushed the man on the wall. You once again climbed on your tiptoes to kiss him, this time you let your tongue dance with his one a little. And you had to admit that he was an amazing kisser.
Sam kissed you back, grabbing your waist. He gave you the possibility of dominating him in the kiss.
But then he picked you up and soon you were pressed to the wall. "Time to change places, sweetheart."
Humming willingly, you let the man press you to the wall.
As he broke the kiss, you gasped loudly, sadly, as the contact was lost.
Sam smiled at you before dropping to his knees, he wanted to take his time with you, but sadly he couldn't. It wasn't a five star hotel, it was a prison after all. "Let's see what are you hiding there, princess," Sam hummed before moving the skirt of your dress up.
You licked your lips and parted them, observing his actions. He was so sure of what he was doing, it impressed you very much. As the blush hit your face, you let your eyes closed.
Sam teased you through your panties, just a little bit to get you ready. Then he pulled your panties aside and attacked your clit like he was a starving beast.
You gasped and instinctively muffled yourself by putting a curled hand to your lips. He gave you a new sensation. Of course, you did have sex, but only oral one and only with your former boyfriend who was just as inexperienced as you. Sam, on the other hand, was playing with you wisely, discovering a new level of desire to you.
"You like it, huh?," Sam asked, playing with your clit.
He raised to his feet, looking at you with a cocky smile.
"I wish I could eat that sweet pussy properly but looking at our poor position. This needs to wait, you are wet for me anyway," Sam winked and picked you up, pressing you to the wall.
At this moment Sam was thankful that his prison uniform was loose and easy to remove.
A soft moan escaped your lips as he picked you up a little. Your legs wrapped quickly around his hips as your hands rushed to tug his pants down. Oh, how much he was turning you on! "I need you, so much!"
"Oh you will get it, babe. I can promise you that, you will get whatever you need," Sam assured you before pulling his pants down, he wasn't wearing any underwear and his cock was standing proudly. "How much do you want it?"
"So much!," you gasped and reached out to grab his erected cock. You gave it a stroke or two, your palm wrapped tightly around his shaft. You tried to guide him right inside of you.
"But keep your hands up here, babe. I'll do the work," Sam instructed, wrapping your arms around his neck. "You simply relax and sing for me."
After those words Sam started to slowly penetrate your sweet pussy, he could feel that even if you had sex in past, a guy did a poor job.
"Hell! Fuck!," You moaned quietly, right into man's ear. A cold shiver ran along your spine. "Fuck, oh God!," You were moaning louder and louder. "You're so big! I can't take it!," You kissed the man's cheek, and moved to suck on his neck. His skin tasted with sweat, but you didn't mind.
"Oh I can bet you can take it, “ he hummed, rubbing your belly lovingly. "And a bit more than just my cock. Just relax," Sam purred, giving you one hard thrust before returning to gently pace. He didn't want to hurt you in any way.
"Ah!," You mumbled and nuzzled to his neck. Instantly, as soon as he made a hard thrust, you felt how wet you became and that your walls got loosened a bit. You tried to cool your breath down.
"You see? I told you that you can take it. Such a good girl," Sam smiled at the nice feeling of your walls loosening a bit around him. Knowing this he started to move faster, Sam knew you can take it. "You are doing a great job, babe,” he hummed, moving his hand into your hair to pull them gently.
You wrapped arms tighter around his neck and gasped right into his ear. He felt so amazing in you. He stretched you oh so well! "Fuck, fuck, so good, so hot, fuck...," You raised your tone a little and rolled head back.
Sam chuckled at your moans and cupped your cheek to make you look at him. "Oh, I know this all, sweetheart and I can say that you feel amazing around my cock,” without more unnecessary words Sam pulled you into a kiss, he was getting close to his climax.
You cupped his face in hands and kissed him. The kiss was messy, rapid. You gasped for air when you broke the kiss. "Oh, God, something is.... Oh, my God!," You mumbled as your walls started clenching.
Sam smiled against your lips.
"Oh, you poor thing, no one ever made you reach your peak? Let me show you how the real man does it, you'll love it,” he hummed, his hand moved between your bodies to play with your clit. "Just don't hold it, babe."
You rolled head back, your eyes shut closed, your lips parted and thighs squeezing man's hips. Your nails dug into his back where you scratched him. "I'm cumming!," You screamed.
"Good girl,” Sam hummed into your ear. His hips didn't stop to move even after your climax. "Now, tell me, do you want to be a good girl or do you want me to fill you up?"
"I want to be a good girl," you whispered. "Please!"
Sam let out a sad sigh, he expected a bit more from you. "As you wish. Pity ‘cuz I am not a fan of good girls,” he slowly pulled his cock out of you, Sam gave himself a few strokes before painting your clothed belly with his warm, thick seed. "That was good."
You licked your lips and gasped, immediately you went down to your knees and wrapped lips around his shaft. You only smirked and bobbed your head back and forth, sucking on him.
He moved his hand into your hair pulling at them. "This feels nice but that's enough, Y/N. You sucked me dry, babe."
 You ran the tip of your tongue along his shaft for the very last time.
Sam chuckled and helped you get up. Pulling his pants up he looked at you, of course he pulled out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. "That was something girl," Sam hummed, puffing out some smoke.
You looked at him innocently. "Did you... Enjoy it? Truly?," You looked like you were seeking confirmation in his eyes. It was your very first time with a skilled man and you felt so exposed.
"Oh, I did enjoy it. Truly," he said and kissed your cheek. "I promise you one thing: as soon as we will be out of this hell - I will find you and we'll play some more."
"You somehow know where to look for me," you bit your lower lip.
At this moment the door to the room opened and a guard rushed inside. "What the fuck!"
"I told you she is here just wandering around. I knew she would be a problem," Rafe said to the guards with his back pressed to the wall, Nathan stood next to him completely confused.
You shrugged. "I pressed on him to go there, I thought this is where the exit is," you explained, laying smoothly
Everyone looked at you. The guards frowned and grabbed you, simply dragging you away.
Before you were pushed outside the outpost, you turned your head around. "Thank you for
guiding me
, Samuel!"
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enderbot-magic · 3 years ago
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Welp I have gotten a general “yes post the brawl stars fanfic” so here it is. Forgive me for the gaps I am on mobile.
Description, I guess: A criminal wakes up in a very, very unfamiliar place. He’s not sure of many things, he doesn’t know many things, but he feels like he shouldn’t be caught. And that he should stay awake.
Warnings for touching on unreality.
Colt panted, holding the bag as close to himself as he could, as if he could drop it at my second. He didn’t know why, but he was sure he was going to be caught. Or maybe this was just his paranoia? They hadn’t seen him yet, which was probably good – he was still on foot and trying not to look suspiciously like some run down vagrant.
A red jumper, a mask, gloves, boots. It looked like he was dressed in a costume, which made sense considering all of that stuff was in there too. Money sticking out of the bag, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t cram it in so nobody would see. His hand was hurting from gripping so tight, and he kept glancing over his shoulder, making sure they wouldn’t catch him when he ran.
He heard footsteps behind him then, but ignored them for now and kept running. If these guys were the police or something, he should just try to get away as fast as possible. Maybe he could lose them and then find shelter somewhere. Where could he go though? He didn’t want to get caught, something inside of him screamed that would be the worst case scenario right now and he didn’t even know what he was doing here! But… but he was here, wasn’t he? And he had to have done it somehow right? He wasn’t sure how he got here or even when, but if he thought about that too hard, it felt like he might throw up or pass out again.
Again. He had done something like this before, right? But he didn’t-
He rounded another bend – his head was spinning again – his vision blurring. The only thing in front of him was a wall. It was too far away. He could almost feel his fingers touching the bricks, himself attempting to scale the wall to no avail. It wasn’t enough.
He turned around and threw himself flat against the wall, putting his hands over his ears and squeezing his eyes closed and hoping he would wake up back in his room, safe under his blankets with an alarm waking him up any second now. Anything to keep from getting sick.
“If you are experiencing awakenings, don’t.” A speaker he didn’t notice was there crackled suddenly. “The experience is not pleasurable, but if your body rejects the awakening or has other physiological effects it is not worth pursuing. You will be forced back into the waking world eventually. Until then, stay put and rest until we are able to contact you.”
“What?”
There was a click and silence followed. A chill ran through him as he realized that voice sounded familiar. Was that what he said? Who was he talking to? Why did he sound familiar? What had happened?
His mind raced, trying desperately to remember anything – anything! - that might give him clues on what to do next.
“What are awakenings-“ He mumbled to himself, holding the bag closer. This felt real, more solid than anything else he knew, even if it wasn’t much. “Is this an awakening-“
“Do you find yourself questioning your station in life? Having flashes of another plane of existence? Experiencing occasional bouts of sudden realness?” The speaker spoke again, whining slightly as a new voice rung out. “If you’re suffering from these things or more, you may be experiencing a rare but serious condition called ‘Awakenings’.”
Colt opened one eye. Wait, did the speakers say ‘awakenings’? That didn’t make any sense… did it? There wasn’t much time to think about that though. He needed to move. Now. He scrambled away from the wall.
“These temporal existential interferences disrupt your permitted activities, and threaten your permanence. But now there’s help.” The voice sounded like it was from a commercial, advertising a medicine. He saw those - he heard those - before, but when? “Introducing: Please Stop. Please Stop is the only hourly pill perfectly engineered to quell awakenings. Just one pill an hour keeps all these disruptions where they belong; elsewhere. Awaken no more with Please Stop. Please, just Stop.”
Was that supposed to be comforting? How was it supposed to be helping him, help anyone? Colt groaned, putting a hand to his head – his whole body ached and throbbed. He didn’t know what to do. Where to go. How to get away.
“Ask your doctor today if Please Stop is right for you.” Colt could swear he could hear a smile in the speaker’s voice. “We already know; they’ll say yes.”
Then the speaker hung up and was silent again.
Colt took a deep breath, letting it slowly out. He had gotten out okay, that was true. For now. As long as he hid and stayed put, everything would be fine.
But, what about his mom? Was she okay? Had she woken up yet? Wait, mom, why was he concerned about her? He didn’t even remember her, at least not to his knowledge. But he knew he was concerned about her.
“I want…” He clung to the bag, trying to take deep breaths. “…my mom.”
God, he sounded pathetic. A grown man wanting his mom, like some kid. Like he was scared.
Okay. No. He wasn’t afraid. He was terrified. But he wasn’t going to let that show. So he took another breath and tried again to calm his racing heart. Calm his breathing. Calm the tremors wracking his small frame and shaking his arms from their hold on the bag. Calm his racing thoughts. Calm himself. He took another deep breath and tried to breathe calmly again. Okay. Okay.
He was just going to get out, that was all. Get out of… whatever this place was. He didn’t know. But he was going to leave, so he wasn’t going to stay here longer than necessary, no matter how scared he was.
So, so scared.
He pulled the bag towards himself, wrapping it tightly around his chest. The material muffling his own sounds to some degree but not entirely, especially since it kept him warm. Was the park always this cold, or was it just him?
The park.
He was in a park. A park with alleys, buildings, sidewalks… He tried to think of a park like that. Maybe that would give him a clue of how to get out of here. Maybe. He couldn’t think of a park like that though, parks had grass and trees and maybe a playground. Sidewalks, maybe a few buildings, but nothing like a city or a town.
…unless that was the playground.
Theme park. He was in a theme park. With rides and food and games, and… people. People who talked and acted funny and wore weird clothes, people who played pretend. And kids and families and dogs and… he could be someone like that. He didn’t know who he could be though. A character?
A character.
…was Colt even his name? He hadn’t put much thought in it before, but part of him responded to the name even though it felt… off. Like he was conditioned to it, not like he grew up with it. Like it wasn’t his name by birth but rather something that belonged to a character. Something made up. It didn’t fit him at all, but, what was his name?
His head hurt. It was pounding. Everything felt so strange, so unreal – but it all seemed so real at the same time. It was all so wrong, but how? How could he explain it? There didn’t seem to be a single way he could describe how he could feel this way.
“Colt’s not real.” He spoke to himself, trying to ground himself, trying to focus only on what mattered – that was easy enough – to understand. His name didn’t fit him – it was his character. There was no point dwelling on it. “He’s not.”
It wasn’t his name though and it definitely wouldn’t be using it, even if he didn’t remember any other. It probably didn’t matter. What mattered as that Colt, whoever or whatever he was, wasn’t real.
“I’m real. I’m awake.” He could hear his own voice. Could hear the words coming out of his mouth. “I’m in an alley in a theme park, holding a bag.”
He was in a park – not like one in a town, but somewhere new. Not sure exactly where but somewhere. He wasn’t sure how he got here. But he was. He really was. Whether he liked it or not, it was real.
“I’m not Colt, I’m in an alleyway in a theme park, and I’m holding a bag.” He eased slightly, opening his eyes. “I’m wearing a red jumpsuit and - and a mask?”
He moved the hand on his head, feeling a cheaply made mask, and pulling it off. He flipped it around - a cutout of a man with red hair and a scar on his chin - he felt like he should recognize him. It seemed familiar. Like something important…
But he still wasn’t sure. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t right.
That connected the mask to him though, in the back of his mind, something he couldn’t quite pinpoint. Something he couldn’t see. But he couldn’t shake off a creeping fear.
“I’m holding a bag,” He said, finally deciding on saying it, “And a mask.”
Okay. He felt better now. He felt more awake now, even if tired. A little bit less alone, and a little bit less confused. Still, the fear remained.
How did he end up in this situation?
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sleepysailorghost · 3 years ago
Text
Tonight Tonight at the Ultra Luxe
Arcade had once joked about how Antietam nearly had an army to their name. All crowded together in the Lucky 38, it seemed like they had found that army.
They never spoke about how the Courier had been permitted to enter the casino and claim it as their castle. The Courier had just returned with the keys one day, saying they had found a place if the Atomic Wrangler felt too crowded.
Veronica didn't know the Courier well, something which she subscribed to some design of the Courier's. A desire to remain anonymous, seeing as Veronica didn't even know their real name.
But Christine did. Christine knew them well-made saved their life and been saved in return. They had dragged Christine from the red-cloud hell Veronica only knew as the Sierra Madre.
It feels weird coming to the Courier to ask a favor. Truthfully, the Courier had never even Veronica a name to go off of-she only knew the Courier's name to be Antietam because they had told Christine. But Antietam got stuff done and they had enough sway to get into places Veronica could only ever dream about.
She asks the Courier if they can speak privately. The Courier smiles, and tells her that yeah, they can talk in another room.
They walk into the Courier's room. None of Antietam's are lounging around for once. It reminds her of the last time they spoke in private,
"Sorry I didn't give this to you earlier. I should have, but I didn't." The courier prompted, and then scrabbled for something in their desk drawer. "I didn't know you when I got it, and then I didn't put it together until you told me about Christine, and then I didn't have it on me, and then I-well, I just didn't see you."
Having found whatever they were looking for, Antietam straightened and took a step towards Veronica.
"Uhh, you might want to open this later. It might be upsetting?" They said. "It's uhh...from Father Elijah."
"How did you get this?" Veronica gasped.
"Madre. Probably should have told you about it before. " They brushed the back of their neck sheepishly, but Veronica was too focused on the tape to care. "Sorry, again."
"And you just had this?"
"Yeah...Sorry. I didn't know it was for you at first, and I didn't know how to open it." And then they changed the topic. "Sorry, what did you want?"
Veronica still didn't know how to feel about this. She felt sort of betrayed, actually.
"Well, Christine and I-I'm sorry can we go back to the Elijah thing?" Veronica stuttered.
"It was before I met you." Antietam started. "I was a nameless courier with no past, just two lead slugs in my skull. I heard a broadcast that led to a bunker. When I entered the bunker, there was something-a gas -that knocked me out. They separated me from my friend, and when I woke up, there was a bomb collar around my neck and a man who called himself Elijah."
They paused for a second, either to let Veronica ask a question or to catch their breath.
"I'm sure you've heard a lot of this from Christine, so I'll just sum up. We ended up in the casino's vault, right? And then I killed Elijah-promised I would. He had this on him. I shoved it in a drawer when I got home."
This was the part where Veronica could have used a question break, but Antietam continued.
"Then I met you. I didn't put it together that you were the same Veronica that Elijah knew, not at first. Even if I had thought to ask, I wouldn't have had any idea on what to say. Then you mention Christine and I knew. And I should have brought you his tape, but again, at home in a drawer."
"And then we stopped traveling together." Veronica filled in.
"Yeah. And I ran off to the Madre and then the Divide and I had stuff to do." They grimaced for a second before remarking. "Bad form for a Courier."
Veronica put the tape in her pocket. She didn't know what to feel about the tape.
"Anyway, what did you want? Something for Christine?" The Courier's question jolts her back to the present, and she focuses on them.
"Yeah. Since Christine and I-well we've gotten close and I want to go on a date with her."
"Yeah? Good for y'all."
"And I was wondering if you could set up a date for us?"
"I don't know about that? I've never been on a date. So I wouldn't know what to do?"
"Really?" Veronica said, wondering what kind of a boyfriend Craig must be.
"Not one I remember, anyway." They responded defensively. "But I can try and help?"
"You will?"
"Y'know I actually have been meaning to check out the Ultra-Luxe..."
"Oh that'd be perfect-and I want a dress! A pretty one!"
"The prettiest." Antietam said, digging around in their dresser and producing a dress. "And I might have just that dress. It doesn't fit me right, but it might fit you."
It was nicer than anything she had ever seen. The material of the dress was shiny and dark, with a red satiny trim.
"I'll stand in the hall. You try it on."
"Where did you find this-what is this? No, Antietam, I can't take this!"
Antietam lowered their eyes and looked at Veronica.
"Try it on. I'll be in the hall."
The dress fit-she didn't think it would for a second, a moment where the ancient zipper stuck on the silky material-but it did. After a few minutes, there was a noise at the door, and someone softly called her name.
Her reverie broke and she scrambled to let the Courier back in.
The silky material moved against her skin as she walked to the door. There was a long slit up the skirt's side, but it must have been made that way because the edges were machine-sewn.
Antietam's eyes were wide, reverent as they looked at Veronica.
"Why, miss Veronica, aren't you a sight?" They said, and Veronica felt herself blush in response.
"Aw, stop. You're going to make me melt." She jokes.
"And it fits ok?"
"Fits better than okay!"
"Alright! Go woo Christine, I'll settle things at the Ultra Luxe! Head on over in say, fifteen minutes?"
"Okay!" Veronica left the Courier, but they returned much earlier than Veronica thought.
"Sorry," They said, sheepishly. "They wouldn't let me in. Even though it was pretty empty...And there was this guy looking for his son...I might go help him."
"Oh, can I go with you? If I wear the dress?" Veronica asked. "Sounds like you might need another set of eyes."
"I'll go too." Christine chimed in.
"Sure, why not. Always glad to travel with you."
It was a short walk to the Ultra Luxe. Veronica had never been in the building-most people hadn't and would never.
She looked over at Christine and her cheeks flushed a little. She liked Christine, despite everything and she was helpless to pretend otherwise.
The luxury casino was grand, but empty. Not as empty as the Lucky '38 had been, but it was empty nonetheless. Shame, no one would get to see her pretty dress.
"Let's speak to the manager," Antietam said, "They should know something."
"Good enough place to start." Veronica agreed. Although Christine said nothing, she nodded along.
The manager turned out to be a woman named Marjorie. Although she was cooperative, she did not have a lot to say that was helpful. Mainly, she just pointed them over to her boss, Mortimer.
Veronica got the feeling that this was going to be one of those wild-goose chase sort of nights, and she bemoaned her attire for a moment. Sure, she looked elegant as hell, but she didn't want to get it dirty.
"A missing bride, huh? Maybe she ran off with the son...No, that's probably not it." Veronica said as they hunted for Mortimer. "Maybe she just got cold feet."
"Or maybe something happened to her." Christine chimed in, running a hand gently over Veronica's shoulder and back. It's a simple, protective gesture.
For such a casual move, Veronica's face burns a bright red.
Antietam agreed, and they tracked down Mortimer.
Mortimer sure was a character. He had a deranged look about him, and he looked extremely distrustful of them, especially when the courier mentioned the investigator. Still, he handed over the key to the investigator's room.
"Maybe he'll have a clue about missing son. Maybe the cases are related." Veronica said, putting her hand in Christine's. Christine blushed and then entwined her hand with Veronica's.
They opened the door using the key Mortimer had given them.
"Oh." Antietam said. "He's dead."
"Shit." Veronica agreed. "Check his pockets?"
"Couldn't hurt."
There was a note in his pockets, saying to meet at four.
"That's not long from now. You wanna see what this meeting's about?' Antietam asked.
"Why not? Not like we've got any other leads."
Then the guys with canes showed up.
Veronica swore. She had turned over her weapons at the counter-she was unnarmed. Pushing one of the assailants out of their way, she made eye contact with Christine, understanding with a glance that they were both in the same situation.
Antietam wasn't. A little pop-pop of a silenced .22 handgun, and their attackers lay dead on the floor.
"What? I don't like to be unnarmed." Nothing good ever happened to Antietam when their things were taken from them.
"Nice holdout. Would have been handy back in the Madre." Christine commented.
"Not headshots. They'd get back up if this were the Madre."
The conversation drops after that, and they walk down to the sauna room.
"Might be a little cramped in there." Antietam says casually. "Wait out here?"
"Sure." Christine agrees, and Veronica wonders if maybe she shouldn't have her casino-traumatized bestie set her up for a date with her casino-traumatized crush. Then she reminds herself that Antietam could have said no, right?
After a few minutes, a man walks past them into the steam room. Although she can't hear it, presumably the man speaks to the courier. Then there's a gunshot and then another.
She and Christine look at each other, but the courier exits in a second.
"Well, I found out what happened to the kid, but the contact's dead. Not me, but I got the attacker." Sheepishly, they rub at their neck. "Remember how there were rumors about this being a restuarante for cannibals?"
"Oh shit." Christine says. Veronica gags a little.
"He's still alive though. We can get him out. Just need to do something about the White Gloves...Chauncey said we could maybe drug them, but I don't like that. Or serve them something that's not people meat."
Even though Marjorie hadn't been much help earlier, she offers the courier a pretty dress-not as pretty as Veronica's though-and a member's key. The courier changes into the dress, shoving their long duster and pants into their backpack.
"If I were a cannibal hiding my future meal...where would I put it?" the courier muses.
"The freezer probably." Veronica says, mainly as a joke, but then it makes sense. The freezer would be out of the way and hard to escape from.
Lo and behold, the boy's in the freezer. It's been a weird day, Veronica thinks.
"We have to make the fake dinner first so they don't try this with another guy." Antietam added, pulling a slip of paper that read "Philippe's Recipes" from a pocket of their backpack.
In the end, the son was reunited with his father. Mortimer was killed, but Veronica thought that might be for the best.
Veronic cuddled into her girlfriend.
"I guess it's good that the Ultra-Luxe only catered to the rich." She said, "Who knows what we might have ended up eating?"
"Besides," Christine chimed in, "I like being here with you more than anything there."
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bornofbloodandwater · 3 years ago
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Pros and Cons of Dating my Muse
Name: Xiomara Aurelius Athanas
Race: Siren / Greek
Sexuality: Bisexual Biromantic (but uh...well you’ll see)
-List all the Pros and Cons of a relationship with your Muse below-
XIO IS DATING YOUR MUSE BUT IT IS MY GOBLIN CHILD AND SHE LOVES NOBODY UNTIL SHE’S BASICALLY MARRIED TO THEM. DO NOT ENTER EXPECTING REALLY ENCOURAGING PROS, THIS WAS HARDER THAN IT LOOKS TO COME UP WITH GOOD REASONS TO DATE XIOMARA.
Pros
1. Thoughtful of your emotions and needs, Xiomara can be very attentive. Paying extremely close attention to what makes you shine for her. Ignoring the fact that this is because she is being her temptress self, she gets joy out of creating such wonderful highs for others. You’ll feel like you are on a pedestal being lavished by a Goddess, but are you there because she wants you? Or because she wants to revel in her power over something beautiful? (If she truly cares about you she’ll let you read what SHE needs and let you see her in true moments of joy and pain.) 
2. Xiomara is a fairly peaceful person in her downtime and very comforting to be around! If you’re permitted to be around her when she’s at home (which, her lengthier flings are) you’ll find a very serene life. Breakfast in the warming morning sun with a book in hand, trips to markets to sell what she grows in her gardens, yoga, naps, making bread and pastries, all between her adoring you, embracing you, pleasing you.
3. Extremely loyal, she’ll stand for you against anything. No stranger to slinging a cheeky quip at creeps any more than she is to tearing them apart, and she’ll do it all for you. Her loyalty extends even to more arbitrary relationships, while you’re around at least. If you have her undying loyalty even after an absence, you’re something special, she’s not forgotten you, she cares.
4. Xio wants to bring you around the world with her, take you on adventures, treat you to the best experiences life has to offer. She likes to keep those she enjoys the company of very close. So if you’ve ever wanted to see the world in all its glory for free, you’ve landed the right Murderous Sea Idiot.
5. Large breasts. That is all. (Yes I am struggling more with Pros than I am with Cons.) As a serious answer, she’s not quick to panic, she is level-headed, intuitive, discerning. If you are panicked or afraid or stressed about something she’ll come up with solutions to help with calm words and a controlled manner. It is very soothing if you find yourself in trouble fairly often or are an anxious person!
6. Xio is an unbelievably good cook and she WANTS to cook for you. There is no sense of obligation in her offering to treat you to anything you want. In fact, if she really cares about you (everything she does has a little bit of backwardness to it) she’ll make you whatever SHE wants. It is a sign that she isn’t trying to charm you, she’s not putting on the show and the flash to distract you from who she is.
7. Due to the society in which Xiomara was raised, she is extremely open-minded. She won’t be phased by any expression of gender, identity, preferences, any combination or presentation of any of those facets. You are a person to her in the end, she wants your experience, your energy, your desires. She wants to see you happy and thriving. She’s far weirder than most and loves embracing everything that makes someone just a little different. If she’s unfamiliar or wants more clarity she will ask if it is alright to ask questions and respect any answer you give her. Some mystery is certainly not the worst, in fact, she respects secrets and the unexplained. After all, she has many secrets herself. Yes, this open mind does extend to kinks 👀
(Her questions would mostly be boundary related, can’t see her being surprised or unaware of expressions of identity.)
8. This is for the dominants, because LUCKY YOU you’ve just stumbled across the subbiest creature in the universe. She is obedient, passionate, insatiable and an absolute tease. You’re also the more likely group to actually get her to enjoy your company as more than just a fling. In the end, Xio needs the control and the care, the relationship dynamics that typically come with a dominant partner.
Much like a tiger doing tricks, if she senses weakness she WILL take over or cease to follow your instruction. Power-bottom? Or situational switch? That depends quite how spectacularly you fail to take control. 
9. So, you’re a bit of a brat! Or very specifically, an over-confident man/masc who won’t shut his mouth unless she chokes him? Hope your aim was to be brought to tears being edged out of your mind because Xio’s a total soft-dom. She’s not going to give you tons of bruises or make you sleep on the floor, no, Xio is going to tell you to be good for her, keep your hands behind your back, make as much noise for her as you want while she brings you to the edge over and over. 
However, she isn’t someone who seeks a relationship in which she is in constant control. You’re less likely to have her become truly attached if you take a more subservient role outside of the bedroom.
10. Xiomara believes in soulmates. Even though I don’t write them as being real, she just believes in them. These are the possible pros of her belief. If your muse understands Xio and SEES her? Theres a high chance (seeing as they’re dating in this scenario) she’ll start to view you as The One. You have to know her for everything she is and for most people that will stop at trying to understand her cruelty, her prolonged suffering, her difficulty accepting love.
Bonus 11. So, you’re a bit of a monsterfucker ay? Even just a little bit? You can always go swimming with your hot sea-demon girlfriend, just a thought. Let her tease you endlessly about being a terrible swimmer, wrap her tail around you like a constrictor and cover you in kisses and bites. Y’know if you’re into that (we all know we are).
Cons
1. She doesn’t love you. It is nothing personal, but she needs full and complete acceptance and understanding. Usually in the form of someone who celebrates her, all of her, even her cruelty. That is quite a lot to ask of anyone; to love a monster. Something I will not diminish for her. 
2. She kills people for money. I feel like that is a Con in most cases. Coming home covered in someone’s blood, probably leaving the bathroom splattered with red, occasionally returning to you half-dead and climbing into bed in that state. One might say that could be just a little traumatising.
3. Speaking of blood. You wanna deal with non-verbal BLOODLUST Xio? Because I sure don’t. Unable to communicate with you when she storms into her home hopped up on murder-adrenaline. Terrifying and with the ever-present possibility of killing you if you’re not very close with her? Having to calm her down? Being threatened by someone who softly kisses you awake? I don’t wish that emotional whiplash on anyone.
4. She’s stubborn as all hell. If she truly wants/needs something and you try to stand in her way you are as disposable as off-meat. She is not giving up. She has a long life to live, and no intentions of wasting it pandering to the concerns and morals of others. She’ll only be told no for so long before she moves on. (Just to clarify this is not about her wanting things from your muse this is about her wanting things in life or needing to do things and your muse disliking/attempting to stop her in any way)
5.  She may have big boobs but that’s...kinda where the softness stops. Very bony, muscular, very little fat, not that much fun to cuddle unless your ideal cuddle partner is a tiny, bony, serpentine lady who screams in the night... speaking of-
6. NIGHT TERRORS. Oh yeah, enjoy that on a regular basis. Xio’s insomnia is your insomnia now! Hope you’re a heavy sleeper, but even then, occasionally being woken with a hand around your neck can’t be good for your nerves. The possible exception to this Con being the premonition-like nature of her sister’s appearances in her life, if Xio feels like she’s doing something very right (like being with you) they’ll die down. Xio can’t discern whether this is just reduced stress and having a confidant, or if her sister is watching over her and giving her insights on how to best live her life. She tends to lean toward the latter, so yet another Con for you is that she might toss you to the kerb if those nightmares get worse. Don’t you just love bonus Cons...
7. Xio can be a bit of a hypocrite. She can dish it out but she can’t take it. She will excitedly enter into volleying little quips, insults, banter, sarcasm, but as soon as she’s sat across from someone who can throw it right back she can get frustrated quite quickly. Xio knows full and well she doesn’t deal with her problems how she should, she doesn’t need to be told so.
8. Not sure if this is a Pro or a Con to be quite honest but Xiomara, and Sirens in general, are not very fertile outside of their own race. If your muse wants kids there will be considerable difficulty there. Xio doesn’t actually ever consider having children but might consider it if she had another long-lived partner. However, secret pro if your muse doesn’t want kids, I guess!
9. Xio will keep things carnal for the most part. She can be whisking you off around the world, treating you to beautiful things and making you feel comforted and cared for, but all she is able to pursue is sex. It keeps her participation in these relationships shallow. It is only in the back of her mind that she seeks love, however, she isn’t actually certain as to how that is displayed or what it means to her because she has never let someone love her.
10. Xiomara believes in soulmates. Which means if you aren’t everything you’re nothing. Something fun to toy with while she waits for the real deal. Bless you if you tell her you love her, you’ll get a flat, disinterested stare in response with maybe an “I’m sorry to hear that.” or “How unfortunate.” It is something that will end her relationship with you, especially if she knows you aren’t the one. While it is a mercy that she will not lie to you or lead you on, it is cruel that she lets people get so close to her when she is so removed.
Bonus 11. If this bitch falls in love with you you’re locked in. You’re basically married. She’s immortal and chaotic and would probably kill you if you tried to abandon her...proceed courting her with extreme caution.
Tagged by: @magioffire
I want you to know there is no pressure this took me three days to complete. ‘Tis a long one. Tagging: @derobergeist (you know who we all want to seeeee, give us the Stabby Doctor), @suresaint, @mettleborn (give me Igorrr), @sunbentsky (Oles or Villen?), @fourmarksmage
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teacupfulofstarshine · 5 years ago
Text
living in the real world (ain’t it fun) CHAPTER 6
cw: anxiety attack, driving while tired (DO NOT DO THAT), brief panic, swearing
word count: 2619
chapter 1 // chapter 2 // chapter 3 // chapter 4 // chapter 5 // read it on ao3!! 
“The first experiment we are running today is to determine exactly how far away from Thomas we can get before hitting an invisible wall or suffering adverse effects,” Logan says. Thomas, Roman, and Patton nod at him. Logan pulls up one of his blue mental screens and pokes at it. “Thomas, if you look in my backpack, you should find a tape measure which I brought from your home.” 
“I didn’t even know I owned a tape measure.”
“You own three,” Logan recites. “Two of them are sewing tape measures and the third, which I have brought for our purposes today, is a conventional construction tape measure.” Thomas pulls the clunky black base from the backpack at his feet and hums. 
“How did you know I owned this if I didn’t know I owned this?” 
“Just because you are not consciously aware of something does not mean that it is not known to you,” Logan says. “I am home to a great repository of information that has fallen below your conscious level of awareness. Name three differences between an animal cell and a plant cell.”
Thomas stares at him. “Uh . . .”
Logan sighs. “Plant cells are surrounded by both a cell membrane and cell wall, whereas animal cells only possess a cell membrane. Animal cells are generally round, irregular shapes, whereas plant cells are rigid and rectangular. Plant cells, in addition to mitochondria -”
“The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell,” Thomas and Roman recite, in perfect unison. Logan sighs, again, and pinches the bridge of his nose. 
“Plant cells also possess chloroplasts, which animal cells do not.” 
“Whoa,” Thomas says. “I really know all that?” 
“Falsehood. You knew it once and then forgot it. As the keeper of your memory archives, I retain this information and can call upon it at will, although I confess that I am . . . better in some situations than others.”
“Is that why I can never remember the answer in time for trivia games?” 
Logan blushes, and the screen in front of him glitches out with some sort of indecipherable error code. “I - well - that is to say - um -”
He adjusts his glasses. “ANYWAY! The experiment?” 
Thomas stifles his laughter. “Right, right, of course. My apologies, Logan. What do you want us to do?” 
Logan adjusts his tie, looking thoroughly disgruntled. “You are going to stand in one place and hold the base of the tape measure. The rest of us will take turns holding the end of the tape measure and walking as far as we can until we hit whatever invisible force is binding us to you. I will record the data, and then we will experiment.” 
Thomas nods. “Sounds reasonable.”
“I am your logic. Everything I say sounds reasonable.”
“Who goes first?” 
“Me!” Patton says, freckles beginning to shine yellow. “I wanna go first!” 
“The order does not matter in this experiment, so I will permit it if Roman is not opposed.”
“Go for it, Padre.” 
Patton eagerly grabs the end of the tape measure and bounces in place while Logan readies his screen. “Wouldn’t a pencil and paper work just as well?” Thomas asks. 
“For the purposes of recording data, yes. However, information that I enter into my screens is then encoded into your brain as short-term memories. When you sleep at night - which reminds me that we need to have a discussion about your frankly abysmal sleeping habits - I can enter the pertinent short-term memories and information from the day into your long-term memory.” 
“Oh.” 
“Patton, you may begin.” 
Patton gives a cheery wave and turns around, beginning to walk. Logan stops him at five feet. “Any changes?” 
“Nope! All good in the neighborhood!” 
Patton walks another five feet, and Logan stops him. “Anything?” 
“Nope!” Logan looks at Thomas. 
“What about you?” 
Thomas rubs his sternum. “There’s something . . . weird, in here. It’s kinda painful, but more so just . . . tight, you know?”
“Are you okay to keep going?” 
“I should be.” 
Logan calls to Patton, who walks another five feet. The tugging in Thomas’s chest is beginning to get more intense, burning slightly, and he can feel anxiety beginning to mount in the back of his mind. “Are you okay to keep going?” Logan asks again, voice gentler. “It is okay if you want to stop, Thomas.” 
“I think I’m okay.” Thomas smiles, but it feels thin and strained. Judging by Logan’s expression, it looks that way, too. Still, he signals Patton to keep going. 
Once he hits twenty feet, Thomas drops to one knee, clutching his chest. The tightburningtightburning tightburningwrongwrongWRONG feeling in his chest is starting to escalate. “Uh, Lo? I hit the weird invisible wall again,” Patton calls. 
“I feel not great,” Thomas says. He drops the tape measure and jerks a hand up in a strange, twisting gripping motion. Patton yelps as he suddenly sinks down, dropping through the earth. Panic spikes through Thomas so intensely that his vision almost whites out, but Patton quickly pops up in front of him. 
“Kiddo?” 
Patton drops to his knees and pulls Thomas into a tight hug. The feeling in his chest evaporates all at once, and Thomas inhales deeply as he shoves his face into Patton’s shoulder. “Hey, hey, breathe, okay?” The purple light of Patton’s freckles bleeds through Thomas’s eyelids as Patton rubs firm, soothing circles into his chest. “I’m here, Thomas. I’m right here. I didn’t go anywhere.” 
“What - what was that?” Thomas gasps. His voice sounds strangled and strange, even to him. 
Logan frowns, kneeling next to Thomas and Patton. “It . . . seems to have been a panic response. Patton is an integral part of who you are. The three of us are literally fragments of your soul. When you realized that Patton was distancing himself from you, you panicked. You needed him beside you right at that moment, and you were able to call him to you.” 
“Do you think I could do that with any of you? At any range?” 
Logan hums, looking at Patton. “I do not know. We could test it, if you are up to that, but I will not force you. Your health and safety is most important here.” He gently puts a hand on Thomas’s shoulder and squeezes it. Carefully, Thomas leans back from where he’s clinging to Patton. 
“Can . . . can you give me a minute?” 
Logan nods. “Of course. Do you want Roman or I to test the distance limits while Patton is with you to keep you grounded?” Thomas looks at Roman, who’s been setting up the picnic blanket a few feet away. 
“Roman, do you wanna go and test it now?” Thomas asks. Roman nods, drawing his sword. Panic spikes through Thomas’s chest, but Patton hugs him a little closer, and it ebbs away. 
“Fear not, Thomas! I will return unharmed!” 
“Just take the tape measure, Roman,” Logan sighs. 
*~*~*~*~*
Roman and Logan both make it twenty feet away before they hit the same invisible wall as Patton. Thomas doesn’t feel the sick, twisting, cramping, heart-rending fear that he had when Patton walked away from him, perhaps because Patton is right next to him. Thomas is no longer curled in his lap like a child, but he does hold Patton’s hand. 
“Twenty feet for both of us, as well,” Logan says, swiping across one of his schema. “It seems that is the hard limit for our distance from you.” 
“What’s next?” Thomas asks. 
“That gesture you did to . . . summon Patton to your side. Do you think you could replicate it?” 
Thomas lifts his hand in the same gesture, but nothing happens. “Huh.” 
“What were you thinking when you summoned Patton?” 
“I was . . . anxious. I was thinking about how much I needed him at my side immediately, about how much I needed him with me before something really, really bad happened. I wanted him next to me.” 
Logan hums. “I am going to walk approximately ten feet away from you. Once I am in position, I want you to make that summoning gesture and think about me appearing by your side. Do you think that you can handle that?” Thomas nods “Okay. I am going to walk away.” 
Thomas keeps his eyes locked on Logan’s form as he walks, turning and nodding at Thomas once he’s in position. Thomas inhales, jerking his hand up, thinking about how he wants Logan next to him. Logan drops through the ground like a ghost and pops up next to Thomas, looking slightly ruffled. “That was . . . an experience.” 
“Did it hurt you?” Patton fusses, reaching over to pat at Logan’s torso and arms. Logan shakes his head. 
“The sensation of sinking and rising was . . . strange, but I am uninjured.” Thomas smiles at him. 
“That’s good.” 
“Yes, well. Alright, Roman? It is your turn.” 
*~*~*~*~*
They perform a wide variety of tests before breaking for lunch. Thomas eagerly digs into one of Patton’s sandwiches. “This is perfect!” 
Patton grins, face shining yellow with joy. “I’m so glad, kiddo! And I made cookies for dessert!” 
“No processed sugars until after you’ve eaten a healthy lunch,” Logan says disapprovingly. Patton grins at him and wiggles a sandwich at him. “Wh - is that -”
“A jam sandwich!” Patton says. “With that Crofter’s stuff that you love so much. I know you can’t resist this, Lo!” 
“I have a name,” Logan says testily. He still takes the sandwich, tearing into it and making a soft, pleased humming noise and smiling broadly as he settles cross-legged on the picnic blanket. Patton hands Roman another jam sandwich, and he makes a joyful noise. 
Patton tries to eat a cookie, but Logan glares at him until he smiles guiltily and picks up a sandwich instead. “Can’t slip anything past you, can I?” 
“No, you cannot,” Logan says. His chest puffs up a little in pride as he takes another bite of his sandwich. Thomas smiles, softly, and takes another bite of his own sandwich. 
*~*~*~*~*
They learn many things during the course of the day and its experiments. Logan dutifully distills them into a numbered list.
1: Twenty feet is the maximum distance any of them can get from Thomas before hitting an invisible wall. They cannot go any farther than that. 
2: If a side is twenty feet away from Thomas and they both walk at the same time, they can move as long as both of them move in unison in the same direction. 
3: Thomas can summon any of his sides with a hand gesture as long as he is thinking about calling that side to him. If he isn’t thinking about calling them to him, the gesture is ineffective. 
4: The sides can refuse a summons if they try hard enough, but they all admit to feeling a painful tugging burn in their chest that gets stronger and more painful the longer they resist. 
5: Because Thomas is the source of Logan, Roman, and Patton (Logan names him “the Host”), he can directly control their actions if he gives them a direct command. 
(“Is that why you and Roman stopped talking when I yelled at you to shut up when you were fighting?” 
“Yes, I believe so.” 
“I’m so sorry, Logan, Roman. I - I didn’t mean to control you like that -”
“It’s alright, Thomathy! We know you didn’t mean to!” 
“It is not your fault, Thomas. You did not know. But now we do know, and we can work on this together.”) 
6: The sides do not know anything that Thomas doesn’t. They are, however, repositories of any knowledge he has accrued over the course of his life. Specifically: 
Logan can access knowledge and facts 
Roman can access ideas and daydreams 
Patton can access memories and emotional catalysts 
“That’s a lot,” Thomas says. Logan flips the schema around to show Thomas, but it just appears to be random shapes and squiggles. “I . . . can’t read that.”
“Of course you can’t,” Logan says. “This is a representation of your subconscious thought processes. You cannot comprehend it with your conscious mind.” 
“But you can understand it?” 
“I cannot ‘read’ it in the traditional sense that you would read a book, but I can understand it. I can connect it to the information that you have learned. Would you like me to send it to you for processing?” 
“Processing?"
“Patton and I are in charge of recalling your memories and knowledge, but your subconscious processes it. That is not us. I will give you this schema, and then it will integrate into your subconscious to be processed at a later date.” 
Thomas nods. “Okay, Logan. Do what you need to do.” 
Logan places a hand on either side of his schema and compresses it, inhaling slowly as he does so. The schema condenses and collapses into a little ball of dark blue light in Logan’s hands. Thomas doesn’t know when Logan closed his eyes, but when he opens them again they are solid blue and glowing. He steps forward, holding the schema tightly, and presses it against Thomas’s forehead. 
Thomas expects it to hurt, but in truth it doesn’t feel like anything at all. The schema dissolves into his forehead, and Logan shudders as it phases out of his hands. “Transfer initiated,” he says, voice flat and monotone. 
“Uh . . . Logan?” 
“He gets like this sometimes,” Patton says. “Give him a couple minutes. He doesn’t directly control the processing of information and memories, but he has to wait for the schema to phase out of his grip and into the subconscious. He’ll be alright.” 
Almost five minutes later, Logan stirs for the first time. “Transfer complete.” He blinks, and his eyes become normal again. He drops to his knees in the grass, and Thomas surges forward to catch him. 
“Whoa, Logan. You okay?” 
“Yes,” Logan murmurs, pressing a hand to his forehead. “I . . . have never done that in this manner before. It was draining, but . . . I will be alright.” 
Thomas carefully lays Logan down on his back on the picnic blanket. “Take a breather, Logan. Just rest here, okay?” 
Logan looks up at the darkening sky and laughs. “Look, everyone. Look.” 
Thomas looks up, into the warm late-spring-early-summer night, and watches as the stars begin to appear. “They’re beautiful.” He blinks, rubs his eyes, and frowns. “This . . . those aren’t stars, are they?” 
“Fireflies,” Logan says, sitting up slowly. One of them flutters down and lands on his nose, and Logan blinks, going cross-eyed to look at it. “Oh!” 
Patton laughs, face shining yellow, and the fireflies flock to him. “They must think I’m one of them! They’re really lightning bug-ging out, aren’t they?” Roman sprints around the field, catching fireflies in his hands and bringing them back to Thomas. 
It’s a pretty wonderful time. For the first time since the sides manifested, Thomas doesn’t feel the persistent anxiety digging its claws into his chest. 
*~*~*~*~*
Thomas knows he shouldn’t be driving. 
Patton, Roman, and Logan are slumped together in the back of the car. Patton is fighting to stay awake, but he’s not really succeeding; Roman is snoring against the window, and Logan is leaning into Patton’s shoulder, breathing evenly. Thomas is barely awake himself, but he wants to go home. 
The road is dark and winding, and all of the trees blur together as Thomas drives. He blinks once, twice, three times, lifts a hand off the wheel to rub his eyes. He hears Patton mumbling to himself as he starts to drift off, and Thomas grips the wheel tightly. 
“Stay awake,” he yawns. His head starts to lean forward, hands sliding off the wheel. His chin hits his chest, but before he can fall asleep properly, someone shrieks in his ear. 
“THOMAS SANDERS, WAKE THE FUCK UP AND GET YOUR EYES BACK ON THE FUCKING ROAD!” 
143 notes · View notes
alchemist-shizun · 4 years ago
Text
Walking the tightrope
Read on Ao3!
Word Count: 6.018
Characters: Janus, Virgil, Roman, Emile, Andy. (Patton, Logan and Remus mentioned once.)
Pairing(s): Platonic Anxceit, past platonic Royality
Warning(s): Angst, shooting mention, abuse, toxic parent, yelling, death, suicide, self-harm implication, scars mention, hospital mention, overdose, major character death, funeral, panic attack mention, breathing difficulty, self-deprecation/self-loathing, crying, swearing
Summary: Janus moves into a new town due to a tragedy and makes friends with Virgil. As he learns to support his new friend, he realizes how much life sucks even in new beginnings. When another tragedy dawns on him, he decides he's going to try to prevent this from happening ever again.
A/N: Guess what? This started out as a vent fic and then turned out to be... whatever the hell that is. Please read the warnings carefully. As much as it sounds like the saddest and angstiest thing you'll ever read, I promise that it somewhat has a happy ending. I also don't know how I managed to write 6k words, don't ask. Hope you can still enjoy!
So long to all of my friends
Every one of them met tragic ends
With every passing day
I'd be lying if I didn't say
That I miss them all tonight
And if they only knew what I would say
« I know how it feels. »
« To be the new one around? »
« To be the odd one out. »
« Mh. Doesn't seem like you like it much here. »
« Oh believe me, » the stranger turned to Janus, the zips of his leather jacket clattering against the wooden table they were sitting on. « I'm going to be the first one to blow this town. »
That got a chuckle out of Janus, which made the stranger extend his arm.
« My name is Virgil and I don't usually come up to people and be all friendly, but you know, outsiders might understand how I feel better than the locals. »
« The longing feeling to just head home already when everyone else is staring at you and pointing fingers? Yeah, I get it. » the boy nodded, smiling in exchange, then he took Virgil's hand. « I'm Janus. »
« Well Janus, » Virgil wanted to laugh at the odd coincidence of roman-rooted names. « Let's have some fun in hell while it lasts. »
« Oh I already went through and came back five times. It'll be a piece of cake. »
They let their water bottles meet like they were clinking two glasses of white wine together, ready to cheer for an important occasion.
Three months into their friendship and neither had surprisingly bailed out.
« Come on, » it was dark outside and they, of all places, were making use of the kids' park's yellow light lamps. « Confession time. » Virgil sat on one of the swings and motioned for Janus to join him.
« Is that some sort of town tradition? »
« Nah, I just never got to play thirty-six questions in my golden teenage years. »
Janus got onto the swing next to Virgil, moving slowly and humming lost in thought.
« What do you want to know? »
« Anything you want to tell that comes to your mind. That's how it works. »
« This thing has rules? » Janus raised an eyebrow and watched as the other giggled to himself.
« No, I just made them up. »
He rolled his eyes, still smiling in amusement and tried to travel around his mind for any notion: as much as they had stuck together for a while, they still didn't know each other to the core.
Virgil shifted in his seat, swinging slightly thanks to his feet moving against the ground.
They started off with simple facts, how one of them had stolen candy as a kid and got away with it, how they had never watched some of the most famous movies, how they had pretty unusual interests.
Then something clicked, like a door opening for a safer, bigger space they could enter.
« I came here because we were forced to run away. » Janus let out after a brief pause.
Virgil turned to him, now all serious and focused. Careful.
« We lived in a very small town and there was a pretty brutal shooting in my neighborhood. » he sighed heavily. « They didn't catch the shooters, there were possibilities of them coming again so we were immediately gotten to safety. At least … at least the ones who survived. »
The other boy bowed his head, unable to imagine how that must have felt, leaving your childhood home without a single notice of whether your other relatives or your friends were alive or not.
« To this day we haven't gotten news from the detectives. » Janus reminisced of when he used to spend entire days with Remus and Logan. They did say they were going to hang out that day but he was too busy with homework …
He didn't want to think about it anymore.
« Your turn. » he dryly said.
Virgil got the hint and looked up at the sky as if in search of an answer; he was more debating whether or not to open up entirely like he did. Was it too early? He surely didn't want to make him uncomfortable.
Yet there was like some sort of force pulling him, pushing him to say whatever came up to his mind instantly.
He decided to play it somewhat safe.
« I have some scars. »
« Oh yeah? Childhood ones? Or surgery- »
Virgil shrugged. « More like … accidents. » that was what they were. Terrible accidents he hated but couldn't help but make real.
Janus snorted, definitely not having understood the implication. « Do you need someone to prevent you from tripping over ladybugs? »
Virgil considered it.
« Actually, yes, yes I do. »
If I could be with you tonight
I would sing you to sleep
Never let them take the light behind your eyes
One day I'll lose this fight
As we fade in the dark
Just remember you will always burn as bright
It was another one of those nights and Janus was growing sick of it.
Couldn't there possibly be a way to sneak his friend out of such a horrible home situation? If only there were laws permitting something like adopting someone your age …
His phone buzzed on the nightstand and he took it immediately, words of emotional despair appeared on his chat with Virgil.
He was just so done with life and Janus could almost feel it through their chat client.
At first it didn't seem too unusual. Virgil would give him snippets of when he fought with his dad, nothing too serious.
But then he noticed the frequency with which they happened, and Virgil started trusting him enough to explain the entire conversations they had; or, better, what his dad yelled at him for either ten minutes to half an hour before he was done and let the poor boy seal himself in his bedroom.
The worst thing was while he would feel like the worst person existing in the entire universe for the entire night, his dad would already feel peaceful ten minutes later.
In the meantime, he also destroyed Virgil's psyche with every fight that happened.
Not that he cared or even realized. He would've probably laughed at that statement.
Janus was just furious.
It had been six months ever since he'd gotten to know Virgil and there was no way someone so wonderful was being treated like trash.
He picked up his phone and put it to his hear, waiting for the other to respond.
Of course, when Virgil greeted him, he could hear his broken voice like tiny pieces of glass that were already broken, being stepped on time and time again, becoming nothing but dust.
« What the hell happened? »
« The usual. » he heard him sniff. « I simply exist, but I do it wrong. »
« Virgil there's not right or wrong way to exist. »
« I know that. It's him that does not. Everytime he comes pissed off from work he just needs to take it out on any of us back home I just can't do it anymore. I was only typing on my computer, didn't even say a word and it led to him insulting me because he saw one book on the ground. »
« This is insane. He is insane and I'm going to get you out of there. »
Janus started pacing around his room.
« Please. In any way you can find, please do it. »
His heart sank at the urgency.
He still had no clue how to help, so he simply sat on his bed.
« How am I supposed to live like this for another probably five years with all the university stress I'm already going to have? »
« Does his yelling make you less motivated in studying? » maybe grounding him, finding exactly how he was affected, could help.
« I get unmotivated at everything. It's as if a depressive episode just hit you all at once while you were having a pretty okay day. I just … » there was a pause on the other side. « I really haven't told this to anyone else because I was always scared of it. »
Janus was immobile. « Go on. »
« Everytime he even just looks at me with a hint of disgust or any general negative connotation I already feel awful. And when he criticizes me to the point of insulting me it's even worse and it's like all of his negativity transformed into self-loathing in me. »
He bit his lip: he really wanted to punch a man.
« Basically, you believe everything he says. »
« In the long run it's impossible not to have all those degrading adjectives marked in your brain. But it doesn't end there. I feel so angry at myself, not because I wasn't smart enough to prevent the fight but because I can't help myself. No matter what I do, it's always going to end bad. »
« And it's not like you can talk back either. »
« Oh no, » he chuckled sadly. « I'd make everything worse. I just say nothing and wait for him to let it all out. And then … then I leave and that's where the scary part comes. »
« You mentioned it earlier … what scares you? » Janus was afraid of the answer.
« Uh, well. You know how I said that I become incredibly self-hating? It's like this ball of anger at the pit of my stomach and it's as if something inside me were telling me to hurt myself to make it stop. »
« Hurt yourself? » he really didn't like where that was going.
« I hate it as much as you do, but it's a thing I don't control. It's this part of me that keeps screaming in my head or I won't be satisfied. So I do it, I … those scars I told you about, I did them. It's the only way I have so far that quiets down my anger instantly. And what scares me is … sometimes I don't even regret it when I truly realize it. »
Janus considered what to say, he didn't want to overreact or scare him even more than how much he already was.
« Okay, I think maybe you don't regret it because you feel better afterwards, right? »
« Possibly. »
« As for it being the only solution you have. You have already considered having a distraction but it didn't work, probably. Is that because you feel like you can't do it by yourself? »
There was some silence on the other side, so he gave Virgil all the time he needed to come to terms with his feelings.
« Alone I'm sure I can't do anything. I mean, look at what kind of conditions I'm in right now. »
Janus sighed. « Then let's do this. Let's talk like this everytime you feel like that. »
« Janus- »
« Give me a code word you can text me and I'll ring you immediately. »
« J, I already did it. Tonight, I did it, I did it before I was able to write to anyone. » his voice felt choked, like he was about to cry again.
« Hey, it's okay. I'm not mad at you. The important thing is you got yourself treated. Breathe. »
After some more words of reassurance, Janus told him to lie down while keeping his phone close.
He sat with his back against the wall instead, an idea in mind.
« You like My chemical romance, don't you? »
« This is not a good time to shame my musical preferences. » he let out a chuckle. « But yes, I do. »
« Okay then, close your eyes. »
« What, is Gerard Way going to appear in my room once I open them again? »
Janus mentally slapped his arm. « Will you just work with me? »
« Alright, eyes closed. »
The boy took a deep breath, before starting to hum a song Virgil immediately recognized.
It surprisingly worked, as he focused only on Janus's voice and the way his singing differed from the original, how it was softer due to the hour, how everything felt better when you didn't think of the world surrounding you.
« Just remember you will always burn as bright. »
Soon enough, Virgil wasn't responding anymore and Janus ended the call, settling into bed as well with one horrible thought.
How long until Virgil couldn't endure that anymore?
Be strong and hold my hand
Time, it comes for us, you'll understand
We'll say goodbye today
And I'm sorry how it ends this way
If you promise not to cry
Then I'll tell you just what I would say
He should've known.
Ever since he heard a knock on the door so late at night he should have known something was wrong.
Virgil appeared on the other side of the door, looking distraught as though there had been a ghost instead of his friend right in front of him.
« I did something bad. » it was like he didn't even believe his own words.
Janus's eyes widened. « What happened? »
And then, for some reason, he seemed to withdraw.
« It's nothing- I just … Can you come out? »
Janus stepped outside, a little weirded out by the sudden request as it was almost midnight.
Talking to his friend didn't seem to be an option; he just kept quiet, he was distressed and wiping away at his silent tears, trying to not make Janus notice as he steadied himself by holding his hand.
If only he'd understood sooner.
Virgil led him to a spot, a little hill nearby the city you could reach by walking about fifteen minutes from their little neighborhood. There was none at that time, just a lonely bench.
Yet the upset boy preferred to sit on the grass.
« Will you tell me what's bothering you? »
« I just don't want to be alone right now. » Virgil responded through the tears.
Janus felt anxiety rising in his chest as he murmured an “okay” and strengthened the grip around the other's hands.
Only a beat of silence before the world came crashing down and the sky fell on their heads.
Virgil launched himself at Janus and hugged him with all the might that was left in his body. He felt arms around him hugging him back, hearing words of concern he didn't want to answer because once he voiced reality it would have become too true and he was too scared to accept it.
Tic, tac, time was running out.
« I took some pills. » he blurted out.
He felt hands on his shoulders pulling him back.
« What? What pills? How many? »
Janus's stare was unbearable, he couldn't look up anymore, it felt too heavy. Too heavy, too much.
« I don't know, » his shaking hands wiped away a tear. « All of them! » he yelled, finally. He gasped for air right after, he thought this was because of his crying, but he sure as hell knew his body was starting to shut down.
« All of them?! » he could feel the tears in Janus's voice as his grip on his shoulders tightened.
Virgil started sobbing again and brought his hands to his face. « Please don't leave. » he murmured.
« I won't. I- » Janus was shaking as well, he had just sent a text for someone to call an ambulance. What else could he do? « How long has it been since you took them? »
Virgil shook his head violently. « Too long- too late. »
« It's never too late. The doctors will arrive soon- »
« Late. It's- They won't. Not in. Time. » he wasn't able to talk properly anymore, he wasn't sure whether it was a panic attack or his respiratory system failing him. « Almost three hours ago. »
« Three … » Janus was shocked.
He was suddenly stiff. Three hours was enough for a person to die of overdose.
« I was scared to go alone … » Virgil admitted through the tears again, not looking up, fear stuck in his throat. « I needed to see you one last time. »
Janus was took over by an uncontrollable need; he took the other's face in his hands and forced him to look at him. « You should've called me. » he retorted, trying to repress the sobs.
« I couldn't. I'm sorry. » Virgil put his hands on the other's arms. He apologized again and over again until Janus told him he didn't have to and he didn't need to be forgiven for anything.
« You're angry. »
« I'm heartbroken, Virgil. You didn't get what you deserved because of the horrible people surrounding you. That's not fair! » his voice rose at the last sentence. Yes, he was actually angry, but not at him. He was many things and felt many things at once and he didn't know how to handle those feelings again.
« I don't want you to go. » he had hugged him instantly, because seeing his face meant it was happening, while looking at the dark meant absolutely nothing.
« It's okay. »
« No, it's not. »
There were sirens in the distance.
None of them said a thing in their embrace for a whole minute, their silence broken only by the occasional sobs.
« Janus- »
He could feel Virgil's heart rate slowing down.
« No. No, no- »
The ambulance was coming, they could make it.
« I love you. »
« I love you too, just don't give up. »
« I think I will … lie down. »
Virgil's head dropped on Janus's shoulder: the other moved so he could rest part of his body on his lap.
« Hey J. When you see my dad again … » Janus lifted an eyebrow, he had been caressing his friend's hair in a state of panic for the past minutes. « Tell him he can go fuck himself. »
Janus let out some laughter that almost came off as hysterical with the state he was in.
« I will. I will, Virgil. I'll punch him for you. » he promised with a broken voice.
Virgil sadly smiled at him before closing his eyes one last time.
« Remember … » he whispered, voice low and cracked. « Take care of yourself. »
One last wish.
And he was gone.
Janus immediately doubled over himself, longing for screaming right then and there, instead he kept quiet, his face buried in a dead body.
Right after, he felt two arms lifting him up, he wouldn't have been able to register whatever had happened until the day after.
Those were the doctors.
They could make it, he had thought, stupidly.
Janus could only perfectly recall one moment of that night, when, at three a.m., as soon as he had gotten into a decent mental state to go back home, he reached what once was Virgil's household, knocking on the door.
And, when Virgil's father answered it, he punched him in the face.
If I could be with you tonight
I would sing you to sleep
Never let them take the light behind your eyes
I'll fail and lose this fight
Never fade in the dark
Just remember you will always burn as bright
Three days.
Three days is all it takes to organize a funeral.
Three days weren't enough for Janus to accept that any of that had been happening.
On the morning right after his death, his mother had commented on how there were news of a student's death and how terrible they were. Then she had looked at her son's shattered expression, his red eyes and marked eye bags.
She had frowned deeply and caught him in a long-lasting hug, understanding.
He didn't remember what happened on the second day apart from him staying in bed for far longer than necessary.
And then there he was.
All dressed up for the occasion on a Saturday morning, ten o'clock in the front rows of a building for a religion Virgil didn't even believe in.
Thankfully his family was on the opposite side of Janus's seating place.
Funerals were those types of events you couldn't miss, but that you couldn't also wait to leave; you promised yourself you wouldn't cry and yet tears would pool in your eyes at any heartfelt confession made, even the most fake ones.
Anything remotely sad is able to break you down where you're on the verge of weeping.
Still, choking back tears was the usual answer.
Janus looked up when Virgil's sister stood and walked in front of the altar, she was holding a letter and a microphone with both of her shaking hands.
She began talking about her brother and their childhood experiences, all the siblings stuff one would expect. Then she mentioned the letter in her hand.
It was a note Virgil had left before meeting with Janus. Something he knew nothing about.
She wanted to read it aloud.
He zoned out for most of it, not registering her voice like he actually didn't want to know. He caught glimpses of memories of his past and present, of the real people who cared, not one mention of his dad was made.
Then he heard his name and suddenly he couldn't focus anywhere else.
« I've only known him for a little less than a year and yet he's been better than anyone I had ever met in my eighteen years of existence. »
Janus put his hands on his face. How dare he leave him like that?
« It's going to hurt. Don't blame yourself. You couldn't prevent this. It was a choice I made alone. I know it sucks and it's selfish, but I wanted a way out. I'm glad I'm getting to spend my last instants with you and that I got to meet you in time. I'll greet you on the other side when time will come. »
She looked up at him and was met with a longing look that hoped she was over and done with that. She gave him a small nod and smile, then went back to read the conclusion.
Janus wanted to laugh, laugh and cry and curse Virgil.
The rest of the ceremony went by and it was now his turn to bid his last farewell.
He knew words were useless when it came to those situations, so instead he gently leaned in and started off humming a familiar melody.
« If I could be with you tonight, I would sing you to sleep. »
He wanted to reach out and shake him, tell him he knew he was pretending to be asleep and it was all a big prank so he could leave his family and run away.
Janus would've gone with him.
The light behind your eyes
Virgil looked like he'd taken the form of a storm cloud.
His skin gray, almost non human. Fully clothed with a suit he would've hated, Janus could hear his usual groan in his memories, which made him sadly laugh.
He looked cold and dead and too real and he hated it.
The light behind your
Janus closed his eyes only for a second.
A second in which that whole night came back to him; he felt Virgil's arms surrounding his chest, tears soaking his shirt, panic rising in his lungs.
He wished he could hold him again, take him away and let him into a safer zone.
Instead Janus's mind took him to the instant he watched as Virgil's eyes darkened, as if you could turn off a star, as if you could turn off the sun with a click.
Sometimes we must grow stronger and
You can't be stronger in the dark
When I'm here, no longer
You must be stronger and
The Monday after, Janus felt himself pushed by an incredibly strong and ardent force.
He had gone to school no problem under the aghast stare of his parents, impatiently waiting for the bell to ring for break time. Perfect, as he dared to admit they were, ideas had started to squirm in his mind ever since the funeral.
As he had gotten out of the church, he remembered meeting Virgil's sister, she had given him a hug, showing him how there was a spot in Virgil's letter she hadn't read in which he asked her to do so.
Right after that, his mother had approached him, knowing how close they were, she had uncomfortably mentioned the school therapist Virgil had wanted to meet, doctor Picani.
Emile Picani walked right past him as Janus had started going on the search for his next class.
« Excuse me, »
The doctor turned around in no time, a calm smile placed on his lips. « May I help you? » he spoke softly.
There was no way he didn't know who he was, given that the news of Virgil's suicide had ran around pretty quickly.
« Yes, I was actually looking for you. I'm Janus Dean, from the senior year, I was hoping I could ask you a favor. » there was a sort of electric buzz in his chest as he watched Emile furrow his eyebrows in interest.
« A favor? Therapy sessions aren't a favor I do for students, sweetie, it's my job. » he explained kindly.
Yeah, he didn't get it.
« That's not what I was looking for. I need another kind of help. » he tried, this time Emile simply nodded, letting him finish so he could understand.
« I know this is not the biggest city but as we've seen it doesn't mean there aren't people who need help, even with the smallest things, especially when they're young and experiencing hard struggles for the first time, »
« What I want to try to do is organize a support group made by youth for youth here in this school. I know Virgil was too afraid to actually come to you and I know there are more kids who would rather express their issues to people their age cause that's what happens everyday with online friends. »
« People understanding each other because they're going through the exact same thing at the same time, thus they can empathize so much better and feel at ease. I'm not trying to downgrade your job, on the contrary I wanted both your help to set this up and … well, I was hoping to be able to host it by myself so I'd need a hand on how I should … behave? » he finally looked up at the doctor, breathless.
Picani was smiling the widest he'd ever seen anyone do.
« Janus you are the most incredible person I have ever met. I would love to help! But at one condition: I'm going to stay with you in the first support meetings, then, when we agree you can handle it on your own, I'll leave you be. »
Janus's face lit up with hope and excitement, he sputtered out multiple thank yous and, afterwards, they set a day to work on their project and contact the school's principal to get the permission they needed.
He started walking towards a class he'd have had in ten minutes when he heard a younger voice call him. Janus turned around and found a boy he'd only noticed once or twice in the halls, he only remembered him heading for theatre club at times while he was leaving for home.
« Sorry, I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with doctor Picani. My name is Roman and I just wanted to say that … well, in short I have gone through a similar thing as you are right now, some years ago. » he looked down, reminiscing of his own experience.
Had Janus lived in that city long enough, he would've known of a middle school student's suicide case, Patton Jones.
« I always had this longing feeling to do something about it but I had felt hopeless until now. What I'm trying to say is, if you need help with your idea, I'd be more than happy to assist. »
Janus hoped that Virgil had been watching over him on that day, because that was the first time he felt like the wind was blowing his way.
« Thank you, Roman. You can already come to Picani's studio tomorrow after class if you'd like. » the other boy gave him a nod. « Until then. » they exchanges smiles and parted ways.
His project was going to see the light of day and there was nothing else he would've asked for in the world right then.
If I could be with you tonight
I would sing you to sleep
Never let them take the light behind your eyes
I failed and lost this fight
Never fade in the dark
Just remember you will always burn as bright
It took maybe a month for the support group to finally be successful: at first it was only Janus and Roman, waiting for people to show up and thus chatting along with the school's therapist.
Things started off as awkward until they worked together so well that more and more people were encouraged to show up.
Christmas holidays were drawing near and Janus was nothing but amazed at how far they had come.
He had just said goodbye to his co-host, Roman, and given Emile that session's achievements when he caught someone standing in front of the room's door as soon as he opened it.
« Oh? »
That couldn't be real.
There was a definitely younger boy standing before him, hands in pockets and the same grumpy expression he used to see on Virgil's face. He … he did somehow resemble some of Virgil's traits.
Janus shook that thought off of his head, reminding himself it was probably only because of their similar clothing choice.
When he noticed him, the stranger's eyes widened.
« Can I help you? »
« No, I was just- Well … »
« Did you want to listen? »
The boy probably took that as an attack as he retreated and made himself smaller in his black hoodie.
« It's okay if so, people can come and listen and not say a word if they aren't comfortable with talking. We want it to be a safe space for everyone, without being judged. »
He seemed to consider, standing still. « Okay. I'll see. »
« Well, » the older boy extended his arm. « My name is Janus, pleased to meet you either way. »
He gave him a weak smile. « I'm Andy. »
« Well then Andy, I'll see you around or at next week's meeting? »
Andy nodded and looked down, still hunched over himself; they waved at each other and went home.
It was nothing more than two days later that Janus found Andy sitting at the same wooden table he and Virgil had met.
All those coincidences were making him both dizzy and filled with energy: he reached his new acquaintance and sat with him.
« I know how it feels. » he found himself saying.
Immediately a pair of dark eyes were set on him, a questioning look in them.
« Being the odd one out isn't fun, is it? »
« I guess. I just want to finish high school and leave this town. Living with your parents this much can be unbearable. »
There was some silence, before Janus resumed talking.
« I can perfectly understand. You know, I actually had a similar conversation at this very table one year ago. »
Andy seemed to catch on what he meant right away, he looked up at Janus for the first time, finding a confident young man in front of him.
Janus let his head rest on his palm.
« When he used to vent to me, I'd be able to soothe him with a song sometimes. I'm not saying this exact song would help you in particular, but the concept of it can. Find one peculiar song that grounds you, make it yours for when you need it. »
Andy kept watching him as he explained. He looked at him as though a guardian angel had just dawned on him. How did he know of his profound passion for music?
« And you'll see that soon, unbearable will become conquerable. » he looked at Andy with seriousness in his eyes, but spoke with a kind voice. « Remember to always take care of yourself. »
He sat up. « I will leave you alone now. » he chuckled. « B- »
« No! »
Both of them stared at each other in surprise.
« I mean, » Andy cleared his throat. « You can stay if you want. »
Janus smiled at him and nodded: sitting back down, he noticed Andy's much wider smile.
« So, what music do you listen to? »
The light behind your eyes
He couldn't believe he had come that far.
Janus walked down a street in town, a few years older, his face's structure bolder, his mood as high as ever when he was about to approach the building where his organization resided.
Which was kind of surprising as it was the anniversary of Virgil's death.
Janus was satisfied, to say the least.
He recalled a conversation he had had years prior with Emile Picani about what profession he was thinking of going for and, without missing a beat, he had answered he wished to follow the path of clinical psychology as well.
He had found his call, becoming a therapist and hoping to help as many people as he could: he now was a full time therapist, with his own studio, also visiting schools and participating in the nightly Community Support Group he had founded along Roman.
Sometimes he crossed paths with Emile and, now kind of colleagues, they shared each other's words of wisdom and finally talked more as friends than as mentor and student.
The support group had grown into a pretty big organization and he had succeeded into raising awareness at least in the town he lived in; of course, the challenge was to extend it further, but ending up on local newspapers and in broadcasting services was already a good start, along with multiple online platforms he was trying to maintain with the help of both Roman, Emile and every kid who offered their help.
Their main goal as of then was to expand the meetings to different issues so they could try and work on more specific problems instead of having a messy general one.
Janus stopped to look at the poster on the building's wall.
Some graphic design students had designed the support group flyer: it showcased mainly a picture of Virgil, since they had founded that group in his honor.
It was his favorite picture of Virgil, with his soft smile and that sparkle in his eyes he could still notice even after seeing it leaving his irises firsthand.
It didn't matter what he saw, though, cause his memory lived in him, he lived through him and he knew he would have been proud of him.
Janus looked away with an enormous sense of nostalgia and walked up the stairs.
« Just remember you will always burn as bright. »
Janus entered the building, taking with himself the light behind Virgil's eyes.
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monstersandmaw · 4 years ago
Text
Male vampire x male character - Part Four (final) (nsfw)
Wow. This part is 10,904 words, people. And in total this story now reaches 23,704 words in length!!
I hope you enjoy this part! Obviously, mlm exo(ish in this case) stories always flop on here no matter what, but some folks at least seemed to like it once it got going, and my Patrons seemed to enjoy it too. I really enjoyed getting to know these two boys, and their personalities, so at the end of the day I guess that’s what matters.
Last time, Alec learned that a few members of his immediate family are in fact vampire hunters, and he found out the truth about Sebastien too.
Heads up in this part for continued, but easing, tense familial relations, some angst/heartache (not heartbreak though), and some (consensual) blood drinking.
Thanks to those of you who have engaged with this story! And for being so supportive in general. You've been an absolute pleasure to write for.
Tumblr links to previous parts: Part One (sfw), Part Two (nsfw), Part Three (nsfw)
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Alec let out a shaky breath and crossed to the sofa, sinking down onto it as his legs finally gave out. “Vampires,” he said, hardly daring to believe the word he was uttering.
“Yes.”
“And you’re one?”
“… Yes.”
“And my family…?”
Sebastien’s voice was tight on the other end of the line as he said, “Hunts my kind. Well, those of us who aren’t registered with the ‘Guild of Hunters’ —” his tone turned acrid as he spat the words out, though he kept his voice low and quiet.
“What does that even mean? I don’t know what any of this means… And did you know about my family? I mean, before? When you started dating me?”
Sebastien took another deep breath. “Yes. I knew. And it was a long time before I fully convinced myself that you did not.”
If Sebastien had thought it was some kind of trap, that would explain his reticence at the beginning for sure.
“And were you planning on telling me any of this?” Alec snarled. God, his chest hurt so much. The deception was like Jeremy cheating on him all over again, only this time the betrayal was coming from two fronts at once: from his love life and from his family. Not that he’d had all that solid a relationship with the latter to start with. Perhaps this explained why.
“I hadn’t planned on becoming your boyfriend at all,” Sebastien snapped.
“So, what, I was just a quick diversion? A casual fuck you kept coming back for because I’m such a fucking chump? Is that it?”
“No,” Sebastien sighed. “Not at all. I fell for you. Like the horrid cliche I am, the vampire fell for the hunter, and by then I had no idea how to tell you. I’ve not been with a human before, so this is all very new to me.”
Alec ran his fingers through his dark hair to buy himself a moment. “You… You haven’t?”
“No.”
“How… How old are you?”
“Do you really want the answer to that?”
“Yes!” His phone was slippery in his fingers now from the sweat on his palm but he couldn’t bring it away from his ear long enough to put it on speaker. He needed answers.
With another cavernous sigh, Sebastien said hurriedly, “Very well. I was born in 1897 and turned on the battlefields of the Great War — World War I, that is. I was dying, and a vampire named Felicity who had been working as a field nurse turned me. My first run-in with your family was not long after I moved from France to America. They were working with the American Hunters’ Guild on a case which had nothing to do with me.” He let out a shaky breath and said, “I got in the way and I nearly died. Those were the days before the treaty, of course, and before I moved to England.”
Despite his still-spinning mind, Alec managed to croak, “What treaty?”
“Those of us who get our blood from sanctioned blood banks and do not live-feed are exempt from being hunted like animals.” He spoke like he was quoting from a law code; cold and clinical; detached.
God, the way he said it made Alec’s skin crawl. It was as if he were being permitted to exist on the grounds of good behaviour and, he supposed, that was exactly the case. Even so, Alec couldn’t help the next words that just fell out of his mouth. “So you weren’t planning on feeding from me?”
“Of course not,” Sebastien retorted but then appeared to rein himself in with yet another steadying inhale. “No. It’s been decades since I’ve fed from a human directly. I didn’t plan on starting with you.”
Alec slumped back into the sofa cushions and stared up at the ceiling of his tiny apartment. “Fuck.”
After a long silence, Sebastien’s gentle tenor sounded in his ear. “Are you alright?”
“No,” he said. “I’ve never been close to my family - my dad was always an arsehole, but… I can’t believe Theo’s involved in all this. He was such a sweet kid, and we were really close until…” he swallowed thickly around the rising lump in his throat.
“Until?” Sebastien prompted when he stalled again.
“I can’t believe this is all real,” he muttered. “Until he turned sixteen and started to ‘work out’ with dad. I was at uni by then, getting my fine art degree, but whenever I came home he was just… different. Harder. Sharper. More focused. Guess it makes sense now… Well, as much as… you know…” he gestured vaguely to the empty apartment with his hands, “… as much as all this can make sense. Fucking… vampires…”
After a heartbeat, Sebastien added softly, “Quite literally.”
Despite himself, Alec snorted. “So… where does this leave us?”
Now it was Sebastien’s turn to feel clearly uncomfortable. Eventually he said, “Alec, I don’t think it’s wise for me to see you currently. Not with your family being what they are.”
His heart twisted, even though he’d been half expecting it. “You still think they’d… what, stake you, or whatever it is that vampire hunters actually do to you lot?”
“There are many ways to kill a vampire,” he said flatly. “And your family knows all of them, probably more. You need to work this out with them first as well. Talk to your brother. He seems the more reasonable…”
“I can’t believe Ellie’s in on it as well. And my mother? Fuck…”
“Talk to them.”
“Will I still see you at work at least?”
The awkward silence told him all he needed to know, even before Sebastien said, “I just sent in my letter of resignation.”
“That was quick,” he hissed, stomach dropping. “You only just left.”
“Supernatural speed,” he replied bitterly. “Comes in useful for typing papers and getting out of awkward situations…”
That sparked another question in him. “Supernatural powers, huh? Can you turn into a bat too?”
“No.”
Then he thought of Sebastien’s Halloween outfit. “Wolf?”
He thought he detected a faint smirk in Sebastien’s response. “No, sadly. No shape-shifting for me. Felicity is not of any extraordinary bloodline, and thus, neither am I.”
“Right,” he grunted. “Of course. Is she… is she still around?”
“Felicity? Yes. We meet every now and again. She and her wife spend most of their time in Venice these days.”
“Her wife? She a vampire too?”
Sebastien swallowed audibly. “Yes.”
“Did Felicity turn her too? Would that make her wife your sister?”
“No.”
He frowned. “Did she know her as a human though?”
“Yes.”
After a moment of spinning thoughts, Alec asked, “Did… you turn her?”
“One doesn’t tend to turn one’s own intended. Between a sire and their turned, there can grow… tension. Not always, but it can be enough to ruin a relationship that was seemingly solid before. Something about exchanging blood changes the soul… or so we think, anyway. It was an honour to be asked to sire her.”
“Right.” Alec felt slightly sick. “Will I at least see you before you leave?”
“I think it best if we don’t. Not while your family is still… ‘investigating’ me.”
“Are you really in danger from them?”
“Quite possibly. My name is on the treaty, but…”
Something twanged painfully again in his chest, swiftly followed by the fizzle of fear through his veins. “But what?”
“But vampires and hunters are not supposed to sleep together, Alec…”
“Don’t bang the enemy? How very Romeo and Juliet,” he snorted. “Fuck. Why does every good relationship I have turn to shit?” he asked, not of Sebastien but of the universe itself. “What did I do?”
“Alec —”
“—Don’t. Don’t make it worse by apologising or something. It’s fine. We were only together a month. I’ll get over it. You’ll move on. Heck, you’ll fucking live forever, right? What’s a month to you anyway? Nothing, right?”
The bitterness in his own voice nearly choked him, and without thinking, or even saying goodbye, he just hung up and let his phone lie in his limp fingers on the sofa cushions. It lit up and rang a moment later, but he didn’t answer it. Six more times Sebastien tried before finally giving up.
Kay was an absolute blessing in the next few days.
He didn’t tell her immediately about the whole vampire thing, but after he’d calmed down enough to be able to look at Theo without immediately busting a vein in his forehead, he hashed the basics out with him, and then told her everything. Alec told her about his newly-discovered, secret family occupation which, apparently, stretched back centuries. He told her about the fact that his eldest sister and younger brother were monster hunters in their spare time, and he told her the real reason Sebastien why had vanished overnight without a trace — yes, Alec had gone to his apartment building, only to be politely informed by the doorman that Dr. Dulac was no longer in residence and did not leave so much as a forwarding address.
That, above almost everything else, shattered Alec’s hopes of seeing him again. Like thistledown in the wind, Sebastien had simply flitted away somewhere else.
She took it about as well as he had to start with, but when she saw the seriousness in his eyes, and when, three weekends later, she came to his apartment for a definitely-not-awkward dinner with Theo, she saw video footage that Theo and his father had captured from various hunts of supernatural creatures beyond only beautiful vampires. Then she believed him. Ghouls, ghosts, reanimated corpses, demons… you name it and Theo could tell you about it.
Alec spent Christmas with Kay’s family, and Theo met him for New Year drinks in the city, joined by Ellie. It wasn’t anything like the family dynamic he’d always longed for, but the new degree of openness between them went some way to mending his still bruised heart. Slowly. Gradually. Piece by tentative, honest piece. He never joined in, but Theo started to tell him a bit about what they did. It still sounded barbaric to him, but at least it was true.
He had no word from Sebastien, and the number he had saved in his phone had been disconnected.
With the arrival of spring, Alec found himself more than usually dissatisfied with his job. He was a good teacher, and he enjoyed seeing his students’ talents evolve and grow, but the ever-increasing admin ground him down, and the politics of the faculty and the university as a whole wore on him.
“Have you seen this?” Kay asked one afternoon as they shared a takeaway coffee beneath the drifting cherry blossoms. Petals spiralled down like pastel pink and white wedding confetti, and he watched with an absent smile as a terrier snapped and sprung around on his hind legs trying to catch them while his owner stood and talked with her friend nearby. “Oi!” Kay asked, digging him in the ribs.
“Hmm?”
“Have you seen this?” she asked, shoving her phone under his nose.
He blinked, refocusing his eyes, and read the article’s headline aloud. “Council offers artists the chance to win a sponsored exhibition in the town hall with this unique competition.” He blinked. “So?”
“So?” she gawped. “You can’t be serious?”
“Send me the link. I’ll forward it to my students. They might like that.” That earned him a smack upside the head, and he scowled. “What was that for?”
“Alec, you might be the dumbest smart guy I know,” she said. “I showed it to you so that you could enter it, you giant idiot.”
He blinked. “Me?”
“I saw those charcoals you did the other week of the cathedral! They were amazing!! And the abstracts too… I still want one, by the way.”
“It’s already wrapped up for your birthday,” he groused. “You really think I should do it?”
She rolled her eyes and drained the last of her coffee without gracing him with an answer. Of course she thought he should.
“When’s the deadline?”
“Next Thursday,” she said without looking at him.
Alec licked his lips and swallowed. “Will you help me pick some images to submit?”
Her answering grin was feral.
In all honesty, Alec forgot about having even entered the competition until the letter dropped through his door six weeks later announcing that, to his utter astonishment, he had been selected as the winner. Tears blurred his eyes and he sat down heavily at the tiny kitchen table. He’d never entered any of his own art into anything like this in his whole life, and the first time he does, he gets a whole fucking public exhibition out of it?
“Maybe this year won’t be so bad after all,” he murmured. “New year, new start…” His chest still ached when he thought about Sebastien, and he hoped he was doing alright, wherever he was.
Theo had been searching for him, probably by way of apology for lying to his big brother for all these years, but he’d turned up very little. Sebastien had gone to Venice first, it seemed, presumably to spend time with Felicity and her wife, but had disappeared completely after that, with only rumours flickering here and there that he was in Paris, St. Petersburg, Prague, and then potentially Florence. Maybe.
“Venice seems like a pretty sunny place for a pair of vampires to live,” Alec commented, but Theo shrugged.
“They don’t burn up immediately in sunlight, or your professor would never have been able to take a day-job at the university. They’re sensitive to it, some more than others, but it takes a full day of constant sunlight beating down for them to burn properly.” The callousness of his brother’s response shook him, even after all these months, and Theo must have seen it on his face because he sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said, and then added, “You really loved him, didn’t you?”
Alec shrugged. Yes, he wanted to say. I thought so. “I only knew him for a month or so,” was what he said carefully instead. “And even then… turned out I didn’t know him anyway.”
Theo, who had been lounging on Alec’s sofa with his legs spread and his head tipped back into the cushions while Alec made supper, asked quietly, “Did he seem… normal to you?”
“Normal?” Alec asked, not sure he’d heard his brother correctly.
“Yeah… like… did you ever suspect he wasn’t… you know…?”
“Human?”
Theo grunted and nodded his head. “Yeah. I guess.”
“No. Obviously not. Never crossed my mind. Why would it have?”
Theo scowled and turned his eyes to regard him. Alec knew that Theo looked like a younger version of himself, if maybe in better shape, and he wondered if he’d have the same steely look in his eyes if he’d been deemed ‘man enough’ to become a hunter, or whatever bullshit criteria their arsehole father had used to select which members of his family were to become soldiers and which would live normal lives.
“What?” Alec demanded.
“But you slept with him, right?”
“I’m not talking about that with you,” he said, briefly brandishing the wooden spoon at him.
Theo pulled a face. “I’m not asking about your sex life. Gross. No, I mean…”
In that moment, Alec spotted a flash of something in his brother’s blue eyes that softened him to the kid. He turned off the gas and went over to where Theo was now sitting hunched over with his elbows on his knees, running his hands through his hair. When he looked up at Alec’s approach, his face showed open vulnerability in a way he’d not seen since they were young children and Theo had got himself into trouble at school.
“What’s going on?” Alec asked, seating himself next to his little brother.
Theo bobbed his knee like a deprived caffeine addict and bit his lip. With glassy eyes, he croaked, “I keep asking myself if we did the right thing…”
“What do you mean?”
The bravado of Theo’s early twenties melted away to become a worried, frightened, guilty little boy again and he said, “I mean… if what we do is right…”
“You mean… hunting?”
“Yeah,” he croaked.
“What set this off?”
His brother quirked him a humourless smirk and said, “You always did know when something was bothering me.”
Alec remained quiet, just watching him.
“We teamed up with some hunters from Edinburgh for a ‘vamp gone rogue’ case and we finally found her yesterday. She… She’d been turning people; trying to amass some kind of small army to take over from another vampire further up north. She was insane… like, completely, sociopathically insane, but… the people she turned… they were just…” he blinked, and Alec saw with a jolt that his eyes were full of unshed tears. “They were still just people.”
He feared he already knew where this was going. Still, he asked, “What happened?”
“Father wanted to put them down. They were terrified, chained up… still on the point of lashing out…”
Bile rose in his throat. “Oh god…”
“One of the hunters said she knew of a vampire who could help rehabilitate them; help them adjust to their new lives. One of them didn’t want to live as a vampire though, so father just…”
Theo didn’t need to finish that for Alec to know that father had ended the newly-turned vampire’s life in a heartbeat. “And the rest?”
“The other three went with the hunter. I don’t know what happened, but… I trust her. It’s just… father taught me and Ellie that vampires are mindless killers when they feed… that you can’t get close to them, that all they want at the end of the day is blood no matter what they tell you…  but…” he looked up at Alec. “You’ve been fucking miserable since the whole Sebastien shit-fest. I know you’ve been trying to hide it, and you’ve got the exhibition coming up next weekend, and that’s great, but… I know you’ve stopped putting yourself out there. And we did that. We fucked it all up for you. I just…” he ran his hands through his hair and sent it into wild disarray. “I just wonder if you could really have been happy with him after all.”
Alec pulled his brother close and hugged him. “I’m not going to lie,” he murmured into his brother’s dark hair. “I’m furious with father for keeping everything from me, and for making you and mum and Ellie lie to me and Angie about it as well, but… if I hadn’t seen Sebastien’s eyes go red — yeah, I thought it was just a reflection or something — and if I hadn’t seen the way he sleeps literally like the dead… I’m not sure I would have believed you anyway. I don’t forgive him for it either, but…” he sighed deeply. “I forgive you, Theo. And Ellie.”
“And mum?”
“I’m still working on that.”
Theo went slack beneath him and snaked his arms around his brother’s waist for a moment. “Thanks,” he mumbled into Alec’s shirt.
“You’re still coming to the exhibition?” Alec asked as he pulled back and went back to the stove, giving Theo a moment of privacy to pull himself together.
In truth, Alec was a little shaken too. Their relationship had been slowly patched over the intervening months, but it still wasn’t particularly close, and the matter of Sebastien had been a permanent, proverbial elephant in the room. That Theo was questioning their father’s teaching came as an immense relief to Alec though. He poured them each a glass of wine, and the two spent the rest of the evening in a quieter kind of closeness than they’d yet shared.
When the evening of the exhibition drew round, Alec was quite frankly, a bit of a mess.
“C’mon,” Theo grinned, patting the lapels of his jacket down for him and grinning up at him. “Where’s that Twayblade hunter courage, huh?”
“Must have skipped me and all gone to you,” he quipped back. “Fuck. I’m so nervous. Why am I so nervous?”
“No fucking clue,” Theo chuckled. “You’re awesome and they’re gonna fucking love you.”
“Language,” Alec said instinctively and Theo’s laughter redoubled.
“You’re a big fucking hypocrite, you know that?” Theo laughed just as Kay sidled up with three glasses of champagne awkwardly held between her hands.
“Help a girl out here, would you, boys?” she asked, proffering the glasses to them.
Alec resisted the urge to down it in one — he’d probably only choke on the bubbles anyway — and filled his lungs instead with a big gulp of air. He tried to send all his nerves into the air and then blow it out of his body in one heaving sigh to leave him calmer, but it just gave him a head rush, so he sipped the wine and turned to look around the gallery from the corner where he’d been lurking.
“What if no one shows up?” he blurted, earning him a scowl from Theo and a pout-and-eyebrow-raise combo from Kay.
He needn't have worried in the end. The marketing team had done their work, and within an hour the place was heaving and all but three of his pieces had been reserved. Scratch that. Two.
The fact that almost all of his students had turned up as well to cheer him on and trade high fives, and scrounge free alcohol and food from the canape trays, warmed him in ways he didn’t know were possible.
Overwhelmed and a little bit tearful, he stepped out of the town hall’s main exhibition space and into the small corridor that led to a fire exit and a grotty back car park beyond, letting the flush die down from his cheeks. This was what he’d really wanted right from the moment he’d graduated all those years ago; to be an artist in his own right, with people buying his work at exhibitions… It almost made him giddy to think that he had a chance to do this full time now. It seemed that Sebastien had been right when he’d said he could really make something of himself.
Ah, there was the crash in his mood that he’d been waiting for. Nothing good lasts forever, right?
Would Sebastien have been proud of him if he knew about this? Would he have been there that night, by his side? Would they even have lasted that long anyway, even without his family’s interference?
The noise in the room was gradually dying down when he gathered enough courage to step back into the echoing hall. The pale wooden floors gleamed in the low light, the white of the temporary exhibition walls almost glowing, in stark contrast to the black and grey of his charcoals. He’d chosen mostly charcoals for the show, with a few acrylic abstracts for flavour, and apparently people loved them. Every single one had a red ‘sold’ dot beneath the label now, he noted as he cast his eyes around the room.
Then his gaze snagged on someone standing with their back to him, hands clasped loosely behind them, a long, silver-blond ponytail hanging down their back. And Alec’ vision slipped sideways.
Sebastien.
It had to be him.
No one else stood with posture like that. No one else was so tall and lean and elegant and god-damned graceful, even when just standing still. And no one else stood quite as still as that.
He let out a ragged breath and swayed slightly, glancing around. There was no sign of Theo or Kay just then, and only one or two couples meandered admiringly around the room. And there, fixated by one piece in particular, stood Sebastien.
Inhaling for courage, Alec approached and came to an unsteady halt a few feet away from him. He didn’t look real, somehow. His beauty had always been striking, but now in the low light he seemed like a mirage, with his warm olive skin and contrastingly pale hair, that cut-glass jawline and —
— He turned and met Alec’s gaze with dark brown eyes alight and glassy.
“You’re here,” Alec breathed, at a loss for anything else.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Sebastien said, and the sound of his voice sent a wild tingling through Alec’s whole nervous system. The man — vampire — looked uncharacteristically shy, uncertain, as he half turned to face him.
“Gotta say,” Alec said, scratching the back of his head, “I wasn’t expecting to see you again.”
“Should I leave?”
He chewed his lower lip for a second and Sebastien’s eyes tracked the movement before he blinked and looked back at the charcoal in front of him. It was of the Lady Chapel of the cathedral; one of the most tranquil places Alec had ever been. A shaft of light lanced down from a Gothic window high on the right, scattering fractured shards of light onto the stone floor, and behind it, just barely visible as a grey, misty outline, sat the small altar.
“You’re religious?” Alec asked.
“Mm,” Sebastien nodded. “Surprising, I know, given my ‘condition’, but there you have it.”
All the smalltalk then suddenly boiled up into thick irritation inside Alec and he scowled. “Where have you been? And why now? Why come back now? What do you want?”
He must have raised his voice fractionally because the couple admiring the seascape to their left shot them slightly scandalised looks, as if he’d started swearing in a sanctuary, and he bit back the wave of anger, halting it in its tracks.
“Shall we step outside for a moment?” Sebastien asked and Alec nodded tersely.
Passing Kay and Theo who were sitting in the chairs near the drinks table, Alec cast his eyes at them and watched Theo tense visibly. Kay laid her hand on his thigh and shook her head, at which Theo nodded and sat back, eyes hard, mouth set, but at least he didn’t appear to be on the point of leaping out and staking Sebastien on the spot.
Alec mouthed a silent ‘thank you’ at them both, and followed Sebastien out on to the street.
“You’ve patched things up with your family then?” Sebastien began, standing perfectly still beside the brick wall of the Victorian building while Alec paced.
“Mostly just with Theo, but yeah. Why are you here?” he asked again.
“Honestly? I missed you. Couldn't get you out of my head. I went all over Europe, and even to Asia briefly, and nothing I did distracted me from you, from leaving you. I had to come back.”
“You could have called,” he said, instantly regretting the way it came out like a petulant teenager’s sulking.
“And what would that have achieved?” Sebastien asked evenly. “I was hundreds of miles away.”
“You could have come back sooner? Talked to me in person?”
Sebastien sighed. “I was afraid that your family would come after me. I needed to disappear.”
“Theo convinced father to let you go. As you said yourself, your name was on the treaty, and you didn’t hurt me or hypnotise me, or whatever… did you?”
“No,” he said, pale brows pinching with evident distaste.
“Could you have?”
Sebastien levelled him with a dark look. “Yes, but… that’s not something I enjoy doing. It’s a survival mechanism — to make people forget what they’ve seen — it’s not something to be used lightly.”
“Ok, but you could have, and you didn’t, so that was another reason to let you go,” he said. God he wanted to kiss him. The realisation hit him like a gut punch and he turned away. Alec ached inside and out for those lips, those hands, those eyes… “Fuck,” he whispered, barely audible. “Are you staying?”
“Do you want me to stay?”
Alec rounded on him, frustration pouring out of him again. “Don’t answer my question with one of your own. Are you staying or not?”
Sebastien remained eerily calm, but a heartbeat later Alec saw that it wasn’t serenity in his eyes but sadness. “If you want me to, I’ll stay. I want to try again, Alec. I want… I want to be with you. I’ve never felt for anyone what I feel for you.”
“Feel? As in… present tense?”
“Yes. It hasn’t faded. Not with all the days and distance between us.”
“God, you sound like a shitty romance novel hero…” he scoffed. “I almost believe it.”
Sebastien spread his hands and said, “I am who — and what — I am. You know me, Alec, in a way that no one else ever has. I was utterly myself with you, except for the fact that I kept my nature from you. I hope you can at least understand why, if not forgive me. Everything else was genuine. I have never done that — been that open, that vulnerable — with anyone.”
“Even knowing what my family are?”
“Even then.”
Alec looked up at him and saw his own reflection in those dark, rich brown eyes. “Show me.”
Sebastien’s angelic face soured into a confused frown. “Show you what?”
“Your eyes. Your fangs. Show me what you are.”
“Now?”
He looked around. The street was empty on either side, with the only people around gathered outside a bar further up the street.
When he turned back to say yes to Sebastien, he found blood red eyes glowing in the man’s face. “Holy fuck,” he hissed. Every already-chiselled line on Sebastien’s face had sharpened somehow, his cheeks hollowing a little, perhaps to account for the additional hardware he now sported in his mouth, and his eyes seemed a touch more sunken. And they glowed as if lit from within.
Heartbeat thrumming out a wild tattoo, he stepped closer and Sebastien went utterly still. His chest ceased to rise and fall, and he didn’t even blink as Alec raised his fingers to his left cheek. “Show me.”
Sebastien swallowed and parted his lips. Angling his jaw a little to one side, he showed Alec the elongated canines, three quarters of an inch long. “Careful,” he murmured as Alec made to touch them. “Vampire venom is potent, even in small doses.”
“Does it really do what the hunters say it does?”
Sebastien’s red eyes glittered almost playfully. “I don’t know,” he smiled, seeming to relax a fraction. “What do they say it does?”
“Drives your victims wild, acts like a date rape drug, makes humans lose their will and their inhibitions…”
At that, a hardness returned to his features and his lip twitched in a lopsided snarl, like a wolf backed into a corner. “That’s certainly one take on it,” he said. “It creates a rush of euphoria. It’s supposed to make feeding a pleasant experience for all concerned. Endorphins in the blood make the taste sweeter, and the human feels no pain or fear.”
“Right. Gotta say I like that one better,” Alec said with a shaky smile. “But I’m not gonna risk it right here… And fuck me, your eyes are incredible.”
“They’re still red, hmm?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
Closing his eyes and tilting his face upwards a little more towards the cloudy night sky, he inhaled deeply. His features softened again, and Alec watched, fascinated, as the slight bumps behind his closed upper lip slid away into nothing, presumably as his canines retracted into his gums. When he opened his eyes, they were their usual, endlessly dark brown once more.
“Better?” Sebastien asked, oddly self-conscious.
“No,” he said. “Just different.”
Something prickled on the back of his neck and he turned to find a woman silhouetted against the light of street lamp halfway up the road. “Friend of yours?” he asked, tense.
“Felicity. She came with me.”
“Why? Surely you don’t need a wingman… or, you know, woman.”
With a tiny smile, Sebastien said, “You make me more vulnerable than you realise, in more ways than one. And we weren’t sure if your family would be here.”
“Or whether they’d want to flambé you…”
“Precisely.” He inclined his head and the woman did the same, turning and vanishing even as Alec blinked.
“Can you do that too?” he asked, still gawping after her.
When he turned back, he found that Sebastien had stepped in close to him - close enough that his faint, woody cologne wafted gently around them and he felt his knees wobble slightly. He’d missed this. Oh god, he’d missed this. “Mmhmm,” Sebastien hummed. “I can.”
“Kiss me,” Alec whispered. “Please…”
Sebastien didn’t need telling twice. He took Alec’s face in both his hands and crushed a passionate kiss to his lips so hard that Alec’s mind went perfectly blank for a few beautiful seconds. When he came to, he grabbed Sebastien’s narrow hips and tugged him close, making the vampire grunt as their bodies connected.
This time, he took Sebastien’s ponytail in one hand and began to pull on it gently. Sebastien yielded at the pressure and tipped his face back, exposing the entire column of his throat to Alec without resistance. The gesture left Alec stunned and breathless. In his research with Theo over the past months, he had learned that for a vampire to expose their throat to another implied absolute trust. Overwhelmed, he pressed his lips to the bare skin and felt Sebastien gasp, grabbing at his shoulders suddenly to keep himself upright.
Over and over, the vampire shuddered tangibly beneath his touch and gasped sharply again, panting. As he shifted his hips against him, Alec felt Sebastien’s growing hardness, and at the same time, Sebastien drew back, eyes screwed shut. “Stop,” he laughed. “Not here.”
“I want you,” Alec moaned, one hand on Sebastien’s chest. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much.”
“I want you too,” Sebastien smiled, opening his eyes. They glowed scarlet again. “And because of that, this —” he said, gesturing to his red eyes, “— isn’t going to go away quickly this time.”
“This too?” Alec said, boldly cupping the obvious bulge in Sebastien’s smart black trousers gently with his hand and making the vampire groan.
“Yeah, that too.”
“Your place or mine?” Alec asked with a dizzy grin.
“You decide. I’m booked into a hotel one street over for the next two days,” he said. “If that affects your decision in any way.”
“Yours,” he said. “I… I’ll just…” he looked over his shoulder and caught sight of the exhibition banner dangling by the door. “I should…”
Sebastien nodded slowly. “I’ll be here.”
“You’d better be,” he snarled as he adjusted himself and prayed no one would notice. He took a few steadying breaths on the threshold of the town hall and then disappeared inside.
Kay raised her eyebrows at him when he reappeared.
“Not a word,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Your hair’s a mess,” she said conversationally. “Is it windy outside?”
“Fuck off,” he grimaced and she laughed. “Where’s Theo?”
“He left out the back way,” she said. “But he told me to tell you to enjoy yourself tonight, and that he’ll stand by whatever makes you happy.”
Unexpected tears prickled his eyes and he tugged her into a hug that was probably meant for his brother.
“You can thank us later,” she said, shoving him off her. “Go be with your Prince of Darkness…”
“I’m not sure how much he’d like you calling him that,” he said as he stepped back. “I’ll have to wrap things up here first…”
It seemed to take forever, but he finally found the events coordinator and after an interminable conversation full of congratulations, agreed to stop by the next day to take down the exhibition and sort the sales out. His heart was thudding when he stepped back outside, but he let out a huge sigh when he saw Sebastien leaning against the brick building, face tilted towards the moon that was just peeking out from behind a bank of cloud.
“It’s like one of your charcoals,” Sebastien said without tearing his eyes from the sky.
Alec crossed to him and smiled when Sebastien met his gaze, red meeting blue. Alec slid his fingers into Sebastien’s where his hand hung quietly by his side.
“Ready?” the vampire asked.
Alec nodded, and let Sebastien lead him back to his hotel.
They barely made it into the lift before Alec was kissing him, backing him into the mirrored sides of the lift with a thud before the doors had even closed. He stopped suddenly, drew back and laughed, and Sebastien — who looked like he’d just got whiplash — asked, “What?”
“Vampires do have reflections after all…”
Sebastien rolled his eyes and gave an indecorous snort-laugh. The sound was rich and warm and it filled Alec’s whole consciousness for a moment. “It’s only the antique ones with genuine silver backing that don’t show our reflections. Technology has evolved, thank goodness. Now, if you don’t mind, you were kissing me senseless…”
“Sorry,” he laughed, grabbing Sebastien’s white shirt collar and tugging him down again. They nearly didn’t get out of the lift at Sebastien’s floor, but as the doors began to close again, Sebastien slid his foot into the path of the doors and dragged Alec out.
Clothes landed in a steady line on the carpet between the door of his hotel room and Sebastien’s bed, ending with them both in only their boxer-briefs on the pristine white surface of the bed. Alec was tipped back onto the duvet and lay there staring up at Sebastien who was now no longer hiding his nature from him at all. Red eyes blazed in his face and as he opened his mouth to breath heavily, the tips of his fangs were just visible. There was no denying that he was a vampire.
“Was it like this before?” Alec asked hoarsely. “I mean… did I just not see it?”
“I had to work very hard to rein all this in,” he said, kneeling on the bed and crawling a little way up it. His own boxer briefs strained at the crotch where his erection tented the fabric, and Alec’s own black ones were stained with a little spot of wetness where his cock twitched with eager interest. “I only let it slip once or twice, but you were distracted at the time.”
Alec smirked and then moaned as Sebastien’s palm skimmed up over his groin and over his stomach. He’d always been a bit self-conscious about the softer parts of him, but Sebastien worshipped him like he was some kind of immortal god, lavishing attention on him over and over until he was shaking and gasping and sweating. “Please!” he begged after what felt like hours. “Oh god, please…”
Sebastien slid off the bed and deftly removed his own underwear before encouraging Alec to lift his hips for him and drawing his boxer-briefs down too. Before Alec could think or process what was happening, Sebastien was between his legs again and had swallowed the entire length of his cock to the back of his throat in one.
“Oh fuck,” he hissed, mind whiting out.
Sparks of pleasure shot up his spine as Sebastien worked him alternately with his mouth and his hand.
He teased him, licking the slit at the tip where pre-come beaded profusely now, teasing the delicate folds of skin until Alec thought he was going to shatter apart with want. Just before it got too much to bear, Sebastien would take him back into the wet heat of his mouth and work the underside of his cock with his tongue, swallowing occasionally and making Alec’s head spin all over again.
His balls tightened and he spread his legs wider, instinctively opening himself to Sebastien.
The vampire moaned against his cock and Alec whimpered. Pulling off him, an obscenely inviting thread of saliva and pre-come connecting them briefly, Sebastien sat up and reached for the top drawer of the bedside table. “Vampires neither catch nor transmit diseases,” he said, “But if you still wish to use protection —”
“— I haven’t been with anyone since you,” he rasped. “And I’m clean anyway…”
“As you wish,” Sebastien smiled, withdrawing an almost-new bottle of lube and sitting back down between his legs. Alec eyed it and Sebastien laughed shyly. “I opened it last night…” he admitted and Alec grinned.
That smirk shattered into an open-mouthed groan as Sebastien’s finger slid inside him and he began to prepare him. There was nothing perfunctory about it either. Sebastien took his time to work him open, his fingers fucking into him slowly, almost reverently, until he crooked them and Alec yelled as white-hot pleasure shot through him.
“Still so sensitive,” Sebastien crooned and Alec just shivered in response. His thighs were quivering too now from the effort of not bucking upwards into the empty air, his cock drooling freely over his slightly soft stomach with each futile twitch. He knew he was a wanton mess, and he couldn’t quite find it within himself to care. It seem to drive Sebastien wild anyway.
When Sebastien added a third finger, still stroking up and down his thigh with his other hand, Alec broke.
“Please, please, please,” he whimpered, out of breath and desperate. He cracked his eyes open and looked down at Sebastien to find that his red eyes had been almost eclipsed by his blown pupils. He gave a weak buck of his hips to try and encourage Sebastien to get on with it, but the vampire seemed utterly transfixed by him. He worked his fingers over Alec’s prostate gently but with absolute precision, and it was going to make Alec lose his mind altogether.
“Pleasepleaseplease, I need you, please…” he wailed as Sebastien’s mercifully short and blunt fingernail caught him just so and sent another jolt through him.
Finally the vampire moved, but as he withdrew completely, the loss almost shattered him. “Shh,” he smiled, stroking a soothing circle at Alec’s hipbone. “I’m still here…”
Alec whimpered like a wounded animal but his foggy brain accepted that the loss was only temporary, and he watched as Sebastien took his own flushed cock in his hands and slicked lube up the length of it in a couple of efficient strokes, head bowing under the attention it was receiving at last. He’d focused solely, completely, on Alec’s pleasure for all that time, and the realisation sent a fresh wave of lust rolling through Alec’s entire body.
He spread his legs, but Sebastien caught Alec under his left thigh and raised his leg easily, exposing Alec completely. Before Alec could process anything, his tip was nudging at Alec’s entrance, and then he had sunk all the way in to the hilt.
Sebastien froze then, bowed forwards over Alec like a supplicant, canines openly bared, eyes screwed shut, not even breathing.
“Sebastien… please…” Alec grunted. He’d never felt as full and whole as he had with Sebastien inside him, and yet this wasn’t enough. He’d ached for this. For months, he’d ached for it, and still it wasn’t enough. “Bast, please…”
Finally, the vampire opened his searing red eyes and began to move.
Slowly at first, he picked up his pace until Alec’s back was arching and his fingers clawed great furrows in the sheet beneath him. With each thrust, Alec saw stars at let out little fractured, broken gasps. Sebastien was quiet, almost silent, while Alec himself was unable to stop the sounds from tumbling out of him. He moaned and whimpered, gasped and cursed and begged until Sebastien yanked him further down the bed and lifted his hips a little way off the mattress entirely.
From this new angle, it was so blindingly good that Alec went alternately taut and limp with ecstasy. “I’m close,” he gasped over the slap of Sebastien’s hips meeting his skin.
The vampire snarled then; an inhuman sound that sent the hairs prickling all down Alec’s body.
“Come for me,” Alec begged in a whisper, opening his eyes and watching as Sebastien chased his release with a ferocity he’d never shown before. He wasn’t careless with his strength, but he was certainly forceful. Had Alec wanted to grunt ‘stop’, he knew the vampire would halt, but that was the furthest thing from his mind as he watched the flawless perfection of this man above him. “God you’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “Come for me, Bast…”
And at the sound of his name, uttered in little more than an abbreviated wheeze, Sebastien went still, hips spasming as his spine arched back like a bow at full draw, mouth open, head thrown back, fangs bared, eyes rammed shut, a sheen of sweat covering his perfect, bronze chest, his silver hair falling around him like a veil.
The sight of him like that wrenched Alec’s orgasm from him with such sudden force that he almost blacked out, and he clenched around Sebastien’s still-twitching cock as he spilled all over himself. Vaguely, he felt Sebastien trying to withdraw, but he grunted, “Don't… not yet… please… I… unngghh…” Unable to finish the sentence as the last shock waves fluttered through him, Alec went limp against the bed, breathing hard, his blood roaring in his ears.
He wasn’t sure how much time passed before Sebastien did finally move, but eventually he slid his softening cock out of him and Alec grunted at the cool slide of the vampire’s release down his thigh. He was too spent and exhausted to care about the mess though, and as Sebastien collapsed onto the bed beside him, he cracked one eye open.
Sebastien lay on his left side with his cheek pillowed on his bicep, facing Alec with his eyes closed, and he didn’t seem to be breathing. Tentatively, clumsily in the daze of his recent, mind-blowing orgasm, Alec reached out and touched the delicate skin on the inside of his arm. Sebastien jolted like he’d received an electric shock, and opened his eyes. They still burned bright red, but the rest of his face seemed a little softer somehow.
“You alright?” Alec asked.
Sebastien nodded.
“Been a while too, huh?” Alec grinned, flopping back down to stare at the ceiling where little points of light still sparkled across his vision every now and again.
“Not since that last night with you,” he said, words slurred with exhaustion. “Unless you count my rather pathetic climax alone last night, which I certainly don’t.”
“Not at all?”
He shook his head but didn’t speak again. The vampire lay perfectly still — perfectly undead — and perfectly vulnerable beside him without even a sheet to cover him. His cock now lay soft across the top of his right thigh, still drooling a little and making a mess on his olive skin. Not half as much mess as Alec was currently sporting over his torso, he mused with another smile.
With Sebastien showing no sign of stirring, Alec rolled carefully off the bed and headed on shaky legs to the shower. When he returned, Sebastien hadn’t moved, and he slid in beside him, drawing the sheets up around them and lying there to stare at him in the dimness of the unlit room, processing everything. Sebastien was back, and apparently wanted to stay. He could hardly believe how well that day had gone.
Waking the next morning with a cool, lean body pressed against him, Alec sighed, relieved that it hadn’t all been some kind of fever dream brought on by the stress of the exhibition.
The fact that the man next to him was an undead vampire who didn’t breathe in his sleep was a bit unnerving, and the way he had his cheek now resting on Alec’s collarbone and his nose pressed against his neck should also probably have been a bit of a warning, but Alec couldn’t bring himself to move, except to place a soft kiss on his forehead.
Suddenly, as if surfacing from boundless depths, Sebastien’s body heaved and he drew in a great, sucking, rasping inhale through his mouth. His lips brushed against Alec’s pulse and Sebastien began breathing heavily there for a moment.
“That will never not be weird,” Alec murmured.
“Apologies,” Sebastien muttered, trying to roll away. He paused, freezing, and then whispered, “I fell asleep…” as if that was something miraculous.
“Yeah, you passed out almost as soon as we both finished,” he snickered.
Sebastien turned his big, dark, doe eyes on Alec and said, “No, you don’t understand. Vampires don’t just shut down like that the way humans do. We only sleep somewhere we know is secure and safe…”
“Oh,” Alec said significantly as the realisation plunged through him. He tucked his arm under Sebastien’s head and tugged him closer so that their bodies were once again flush with one another. “I’m glad you felt safe…”
Sebastien sighed, trailing his fingertips across Alec’s chest in absent circles. His cock twitched too, and Alec shot him a look.
With a bashful smile, Sebastien said, “I can’t help that I find you attractive, Alec…”
“Wasn't complaining,” he grinned.
It was a long time before they rolled off each other that morning, with the sun well up and the sheets damp with sweat and tangled around their ankles. Vampires, it seemed, had a longer refractory period than humans, but Sebastien also came so big when he did that Alec wasn’t surprised. He gave everything to Alec when he came that Alec could quite happily lie there all day just staring at him as he came down afterwards.
The room was chilly, however, and when Sebastien seemed to have dozed off again around ten o’clock, he headed to clean up. Again.
As the steam billowed around him, he tipped his head back into the stream of searing water and nearly yelped as the shower door opened and let in a rush of cold air as Sebastien stepped into the stall as well. Cool hands found his waist and then strong fingers kneaded his arse appreciatively before Sebastien kissed and nibbled up his shoulder and traps to his neck. Instinctively, Alec tilted his head to one side and Sebastien moaned, pressing open-mouthed kisses there over and over as the hot water coursed around his lips.
The sensation must have been too much for him because he pulled back sharply with a hiss and Alec turned to face him, water still streaming down around them. Sebastien stood frozen, eyes red, staring at Alec’s neck. “I shouldn’t…” he began. “That was stupid of me… I…”
“What happens to the treaty if the human is willing?” Alec found himself asking. He’d thought about it a lot before drifting off the previous night. If Sebastien had wanted to drink from him, to feed on him, what would happen to the tenuous peace between hunters and vampires like him.
“Don’t,” Sebastien said through gritted teeth. His canines were elongated, Alec noted.
“What happens?”
“The only way it’s permitted is if the human agrees by written contract to become the vampire’s source.”
“‘Source’?” he asked. “That sounds like an official title.”
“It is,” Sebastien said, relaxing a fraction and putting his hands back on Alec’s hips. His cock stirred with interest and Sebastien smiled. He leaned back in, as if proving to both of them that he could do this, and kissed down Alec’s neck again from the junction of his jaw all the way to his collarbones. He ground his hips against Alec and they both began to harden again.
Alec’s hand went to Sebastien’s cock and he started to stroke him gently, knowing he was still sensitive from their last round. Sebastien let out a ragged exhale, the cool breath making Alec shiver slightly in the heat of the water.
“So…” Alec pressed gently, thumbing across the top of Sebastien’s flushed cock.
“Hmm?” he asked, a little stunned.
“What is a source?”
“A human becoming a vampire’s source means that the vampire drinks only from that human. It’s… an ancient - ah - custom,” he said, gripping Alec’s shoulders as Alec upped the speed and adjusted his grip to tighten just a little around his now fully hard cock. “Rarely used today, but still… nngh…”
“Mmm?” Alec grinned, loving that the vampire’s thoughts were unravelling under his touch. “Go on.”
“You’re a menace,” he laughed breathily, nipping playfully at his neck and then kissing him hard. Alec’s back suddenly hit the icy tiles behind him and he yelped, rearing into Sebastien who wasn’t all that much warmer, though the heat of the water was raising his body temperature from the ambient temperature of the room.
“So if…” Alec began, somewhat distracted as Sebastien’s kisses continued and the vampire raked his fingers through Alec’s wet hair, scraping luxuriantly across his scalp hard enough to make him break off and groan. “If… if I wanted to become your…”
“Don’t,” Sebastien whispered. “Not yet. Not so soon after… all this time.”
The subtext was clear. Let’s see if this is going to last before I risk my life with the hunters guild and your family, shall we?
“Fair enough. Nothing to say I can’t suck you off now though, right?”
“Nothing at all,” he whispered and then immediately cursed as Alec sank to his knees and did just that.
It was only as he was handing in his own letter of resignation that the truth really sank in for Alec. He’d gone from post-grad assistant in the department to a full lecturer, where he’d stayed for six years, and now he was moving a little way out of the city, and moving in with his boyfriend of a year. A vampire, nonetheless. His life had gone from miserable to wonderful in that relatively short time.
Sebastien met him at the edge of campus after he’d handed the letter personally to the head of department. Standing under the verdant cherry trees, Sebastien looked like a vision. He wore tight, dark jeans and a loose shirt, half untucked, with his long hair tied back in a loose plait, fly-aways wisping around his head like mist. Alec walked straight up to him as the vampire opened his arms, flung his own arms around Sebastien’s neck, and hugged him.
“All done?” Sebastien asked without pulling back.
He nodded and popped back down from his toes. They were both tall men, but Sebastien had a few inches on him still. With a slightly doe-eyed expression, Sebastien smiled and kissed him gently. “I love you,” he said softly between kisses.
“Come on, you big sap,” Alec said. “I’ve got to be out of my apartment at four.”
“Such a romantic,” Sebastien sighed melodramatically.
With Sebastien’s supernatural strength, loading up the little van they’d hired for his stuff didn’t take long, and after giving his keys back to the landlord and signing the final bits and bobs, they were on the road.
The old farmhouse had been a find of Sebastien’s, and it needed some work. “Well, what else am I going to do on long, impossibly sunny summer days while you’re running your own business from the little art studio at the bottom of the garden?” Sebastien had laughed when they’d first viewed it, the back of his hand pressed to his forehead in a terribly ‘put upon’ gesture. “I might as well spruce the place up.”
“It needs more than a light ‘sprucing up’,” Alec had said, brows raised at the rotten wooden beam and the tired 1950’s kitchen. “And don’t tell me you made your wealth flipping houses back in the day.”
“Would you rather I told you I robbed the Bank of England and they still haven’t noticed?” he replied archly before planting a kiss squarely on Alec’s scratchy, stubble-darkened cheek.
With a scowl, Alec had shot him a look. “I honestly don’t know whether that’s a lie or not…”
“It’s a lie,” Sebastien snorted. “I can’t believe you think I’m a criminal.”
“You’re a vampire,” he’d retorted. “You could probably have just walked in there and demanded a small fortune in gold ingots and they wouldn’t have objected…”
“Please. I do have some scruples. And besides, I only use my charms on poor, miserable artists to get into their pants…”
“And their hearts too, apparently,” he’d scoffed as they’d left the dilapidated house with Sebastien’s hand in Alec’s back pocket, fingers firmly cupped around his arse.
It took another six months for the work to be completed, and even with Sebastien’s not inconsiderable talents in the DIY and home improvement departments, they still had to call in a team of builders to fix the pointing in one wall and to sort out a few other structural issues. But by the end of the work, the farmhouse was quite frankly the most stunning place Alec could ever have dreamed of living. Exposed oak beams and a fireplace big enough to park a tractor in were only half of the best features of the place.
One clear, frosty evening in late October, the pair sat outside on the recently finished patio, a small cast iron fire-pit crackling away and sending sparks and heat twisting up into the night sky, a glass of wine each in one hand and their free hand clasped around the other’s.
“Bastien…?” Alec said, not taking his eyes from the mother-of-pearl points of light in the sky above.
“Mmm?”
“I’ve been thinking a lot lately about… about becoming your source.” He didn’t miss the sharp inhale from his partner, nor the way Sebastien went completely still in the wooden chair beside him. He also didn’t say anything. “I’d… I’d like to ask how often you’d need to feed from me, and… what the repercussions would be for me as the human…”
Still Sebastien didn’t speak for a long time, and Alec worried he’d spoilt the serenity of their evening with the sensitive question. Finally, the vampire cleared his throat and Alec realised with a jolt that he was near tears.
“Bast?”
At the sound of the pet-name, Sebastien blinked rapidly and two mirroring tears tracked down his cheeks in perfect synchrony. “I thought you’d forgotten all about it,” he said in a hoarse croak. “I didn’t want to bring it up again.”
“You should have done, silly,” Alec groused, and he was met with a watery smile that didn’t meet his eyes at all.
“Well, to answer your questions,” he said, trying to sound unaffected even if he clearly was. “Every three months is safe enough, so long as you take an iron supplement. If you don’t, you might feel a little more tired right afterwards. We generally take slightly less than a person would give at a blood donation, if that helps put it into context.”
Alec turned and frowned at him.
“What?”
“You’ve gone all clinical,” he said, shuffling a little and setting his wine glass down on the edge of the stone fire pit. “Do you not want this anymore?”
Sebastien swallowed thickly and looked away. In the ochre and copper flicker of the flames before them, his suddenly red eyes seemed to glow like coals. “More than you know…” he rasped.
“Then what’s the problem?”
He chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment before turning back to face Alec with glassy eyes. “I’m frightened.”
Alec’s scowl deepened and he rose from his chair to straddle and sink down into Sebastien’s lap. Settled in his new position, he kissed Bast’s lips and stroked his loose, white-blond hair out of his eyes. “Of what?”
“Losing control. It’s been… decades since… If I hurt you, Alec… it would break me.”
“How about we start small? Just a taste?”
Sebastien looked so young then in the firelight. He suddenly looked like the twenty year old man he had been when he’d been conscripted into the army and sent out to battle to die, only to be turned at the eleventh hour by a nurse in a field hospital who’d seen something special in him. Thank god she had, Alec mused.
Alec leaned back a little and brought his index finger slowly to Sebastien’s lips. The vampire swallowed, red gaze drifting down to watch its approach before looking back at Alec’s face, searching, questioning, doubting.
Alec nodded and slid his fingertip a few millimetres into Sebastien’s mouth. The vampire inhaled, closed his eyes, and then opened his mouth properly. Alec brought the pad of his fingertip to the underside of his right canine, and pressed.
After a moment, the pressure gave way and a prick of pain like a needle pierced his skin. A bead of blood welled there instantly and he withdrew to let it swell. Sebastien clearly smelled the blood because his pupils dilated and he sucked in a sharp breath.
“Easy,” Alec said. “It’s only a drop.” And with that, he turned his finger over and held it above the tip of Sebastien’s tongue.
Paralysed in a heartbeat of terror, Sebastien sat rigid, frozen, wide eyed, but Alec lowered his finger to meet the slight roughness of his tongue, and Sebastien’s eyes rolled. He moaned and let his tongue play across the tiny pinprick wound, fingers digging into Alec’s hips. The tiny wound had already stopped bleeding, but he sucked gently, drawing a little taste more. Then he released Alec and stared at him, a look of stunned awe on his beautiful face.
“How was that?” Alec asked, briefly thumbing a fond arc across Sebastien’s cheekbone before dropping his hand.
“Manageable,” Sebastien murmured.
“Ok, I have to ask, do I taste good?”
The tense spell that encapsulated both of them broke and Sebastien cracked a smile, fangs and all. “Yes,” he rasped.
“So… I can become your source?”
“If you wish it, yes. You can withdraw the honour at any time. I won’t hold you to it.”
“Good to know,” he said, only half laughing. A moment later, he said, “When… When do you want to start… you know… properly. Formally?”
Sebastien’s eyes had drifted to the rabbiting pulse in his neck.
“Now?” he asked. “It’s only been a few weeks since you went to the blood bank though…”
“That’s…” he said, hands finding Alec’s waist and holding him gently. “That probably works in my favour this time. Are you sure you want this?”
“To be ‘yours’ on your terms as well as mine? Of course,” he smiled, and watched as another tear rolled down his perfect olive cheek. He tilted his head to one side, feeling a little sheepish, and said in barely a whisper, “Whenever you like.”
“Really? Now?” Sebastien hissed, chest suddenly heaving. “Just like that?”
Alec laughed quietly. “It’s not as if we’ve just met. I know you, Bast. I trust you. I wouldn’t offer this to just any old vampire, you know?”
Unable to stop the smile from twisting his lips, Sebastien finally relented with a nod. “Alright. But not here. You’re going to want to be more comfortable.”
“But I’m already comfortable here,” he whined playfully, wiggling his hips in Sebastien’s lap, eliciting a deep, rumbling groan.
With a roll of his red eyes, Sebastien sighed. “Stubborn arse,” he grumbled without sting.
“You love my arse.”
“Yes, you’re right. I do,” he said.
Tenderly he ran his thumb down the line of Alec’s carotid and inhaled deeply. “I love you,” he whispered. And then he leaned close. He took his time kissing Alec’s neck until he was gasping and rocking his hips against Sebastien.
“Please…”
“Last chance,” Sebastien said against the skin of his throat.
Alec shook his head. “I want this. I’m yours.”
So the vampire sank his fangs into the artery. After the initial surprise and sting, Alec’s whole body lit up as the venom hit his bloodstream, and he bucked into Sebastien who held him still with what should have been frightening ease. There was no fear behind the gesture, only longing and love and sweet, aching, rolling, unending pleasure.
“Oh fuck,” Alec moaned, going limp in his arms as Sebastien began to feed, withdrawing his fangs to draw more deeply on him while he held him easily in his arms. The vampire moaned, lips locked against his skin so as not to spill anything. The motion of his throat suddenly fascinated Alec as he swallowed down his own life-force, but before he could raise his hand to touch fingertips to his Adam’s apple, pleasure exploded in his mind and he forgot everything.
When he came back to himself, he was inside, lying on their bed, with a small, soft dressing over his neck, and Sebastien sitting quietly on the bed beside him, staring down at him and holding his hand. As he blinked his eyes, he frowned. “What…?”
“It’s intense the first time,” Sebastien murmured fondly. “I did say you’d want to be somewhere more comfortable.”
“ S’perfect,” he slurred. “Fuck me…” he added, more curse than command.
“Maybe later, hmm?” Sebastien smiled. There was a flush to his cheeks that Alec had never seen before, and a brightness to his eyes.
“C’mere,” Alec said, patting the bed beside him. With Sebastien lying silently next to him, Alec rolled over and hooked one leg over Bast’s thigh. “Love you,” he mumbled, sinking into a deep and exhausted sleep, even as Sebastien’s hand came up to cradle his head.
The vampire smiled, kissing his forehead. “I love you too.”
___
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piercingyourthoughts · 5 years ago
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