#true blood godric imagine

[chloe-skywalker]

True Blood Masterlist

~

Main Masterlist

By @chloe-skywalker

*= Requested

Eric Northman:

~

Godric:

~

[lovemurphythe100]

Imagine having a three some with Godric and Eric

[bisexualmultifandommess]

Since I’m in love with Godric and Sookie is my favourite character I love to imagine concepts in AUs or canon for fics that include them both. I don’t care about canon when it comes to fics lmao I just write whatever and make it fit.

Imagine this AU where when she was a young woman around Sookie’s age Adele is out at night and is attacked but is rescued by none other than Godric. She’s made aware of him being a vampire and promises to keep it a secret because she’s grateful. They talk and meet up a few times because they enjoy each others company and become best friends but eventually Adele has to go home and Godric has to leave.

The two maybe continue to accidentally meet at random points in their lives. For example when Adele is a little older and first married and when she’s had her children and they’re very young.

So years later when he runs into that basement to save the girl being attacked at first he sees a young Adele Stackhouse until Sookie obviously introduces herself as Sookie and he starts to see the differences.

He’s obviously devastated that she’s dead and he never got to see her one last time but he enjoys talking to Sookie and Jason about her.

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x wife!reader

Summary: A dangerous mission puts James's life at risk. You're consumed by worry and fear as you wait for news of what happened to your husband.

Genre: Angst (happy ending)

Warnings: reader and James have a newborn baby (named Harry), mentions of death, murder, blood, violence,

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

The clock reads midnight and still no one has heard from any of them.

You're sitting on the couch, your head in your hands. Lily crouches by your legs, her delicate hands resting on your knee as she rubs soothing circles around them, attempting to match your breathing so she can help you.

Naturally, you have taken this the hardest. 

"They'll be alright," Lily whispers as if she can promise you that all will be okay, but her voice is distant.

The only person you can hear is him. His voice rings in your mind, the way he sounds when he says your name, when he whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

You can feel his hand in yours, the way his lips brushed your cheek, and the only thing you imagine when you look up is the front door opening wide and seeing him walk in, with only a few superficial scratches. 

But the door doesn't move and instead, the room is silent. 

It's been hours. It was supposed to be quick. That's what James had said when he kissed your head and said you he loved you. He hadn't even said goodbye to the baby.

"It's an easy mission, nothing dangerous—they're probably lost, you know how Sirius is," Marlene says from her side of the room as if that makes any of this better. 

"You don't know that," you snap and stand up, pacing the room. You look at your friends, their solemn faces only making this worse. You can't stand their sadness, or even worse their pity. "Just—leave me alone—" your voice comes out hoarse, running up the creaky wooden stairs of you and James's little home in Godric's Hollow.

You hold your breath, turning the corner into the nursery where baby Harry should be sleeping soundly; unaware that his father isn't home. 

It's as it should be, you reminded yourself, gently creeping inside. He is just a baby. He shouldn't worry. You'll make sure he never had to worry. You lean over the crib, picking your son up into your arms. He's all bundled up so the movement doesn't wake him. 

"Oh, James," you mutter, feeling the warm tears fall but you hold them in for Harry's sake. This wasn't normal. Something felt wrong. "Where are you?" you ask into the darkness of the room, a line of moonlight from outside gently shines onto Harry's sleeping face.

You've always found it fascinating how much he can look like his father at only one years old and you wonder if that will carry on into his childhood. 

"He looks like a wrinkled pickle," James had said the day of Harry's birth, his arm wrapped around you as you leaned your sweaty head on his bicep, breathing deeply from exhaustion. Your husband had somehow managed to squeeze himself onto the small hospital cot, his hip pressed against yours as he glanced down at the infant pressed against your bare chest. "Ugly little pickle," he muttered, the lovesick smile on his face betraying his true opinion. 

"James," you'd scolded weakly. You're much too exhausted to look up as you keep your baby pressed against your bare breasts, calming him with your breathing.   

"You're beautiful, my love," James said, kissing your hairline. "You did so well. So brave and strong."

You laughed, his voice soothing you. 

"I just know our little pickle is gonna grow up just as handsome as his dad, ain't that right, bud?" James had teased, talking to the infant as if he could hear him. You rolled your eyes, simply letting the warmth of the two boys you loved the most lull you to sleep. 

Harry suddenly begins to stir, his little eyes blinking open and you instantly rock him. "Shh, baby, go back to sleep," you whisper, feeling horrible for waking him up. 

Harry doesn't cry. He looks at you in the darkness. He blinks a few times and then as if on cue, begins to wail. It's as if he can sense your sadness and all he can do with the emotion is cry. You feel horrible, sliding against the crib as you sit up, holding Harry up, as you rock him a little harder. 

"Oh, please, honey," you plead, holding him against your knees as you touch the little tufts of curly hair on his little forehead. You hope none of your friends hear him and give them a reason to check on you. "Please, my lovely, sleep. It's okay. Daddy will be home soon, okay?" 

You say it mostly to calm yourself down, knowing that it will in turn calm your son. You breathe, holding in more tears as you think of James. Where is he? You press a kiss on Harry's head once his cries have ceased.

You aren't sure how much time has passed as you sit on the floor, your eyes tired from crying as your baby sleeps soundly in your arms. The sounds of your friends have drowned into the background. You're having the most horrible dream as you drift to sleep, having cried exhaustion into your body. 

James is gone. He's gone and you can't reach him. 

You shift, your body unconsciously keeping Harry in your arms as your mind plagues you with horrible images. You can almost feel James's palm on your hand, his breath on your skin as he calls your name. 

But he's gone. He's dead.

"My darling," his voice rings in your ears, hoarse and broken. "Wake up." James's calloused fingers touch your cheek, a wetness you don't recognize seeping into your skin and your eyes widen. You're met with James's piercing brown eyes and he forces a strained smile. 

"Hi," he whispers.

Without thinking, you sit up through your haze and almost let Harry slip from your arms. Luckily, James scoots closer, trapping you in between his legs as he holds Harry to his chest, supporting your arms too. Harry wakes up again, his sleep schedule severely messed up as he begins to cry again and your heart breaks. 

"Hi pickle," James whispers, careful only to touch the outside of Harry's blanket with his bloodied hands. You blink, staring at the awful state your husband is in, which even in the moonlight you can tell he's covered in ash and blood, his face littered insuperficial cuts and bruises— still, he's alive. 

"James—" you whimper, touching his cheek gently. "What happened? Where were you? I was worried sick—" You squirm out of his legs and stand, taking Harry from him as you look for your son's favorite pacifier.

Once you've found it, you place it in Harry's mouth and set him back in his crib to fall asleep. You turn, grabbing your wand, and enchanting his crib mobile. Harry seems calmer now and you take James's wrist gently, pulling him out into the hallway. 

You'd already disturbed your poor baby enough.

After closing the nursery door, you turn the light on, placing your wand in the back pocket of your jeans as you look him over. His shirt is bloodied and there's a gash, but the wound has been healed. "Remus healed me. We were ambushed—we barely got away and I- they had to heal me before we came home. I wouldn't let him take me home to you in the state I was in," James says. 

Tears brim in your eyes. 

"But, I'm okay now," he says and lifts his hand as if he wants to hold your cheek but he doesn't since there is still dried blood on his hands. Instead, he smiles at you. "I'm sorry you were so worried. Lily told me you were inconsolable."

You scoff, sniffling as you wrap your arms around his chest. You inhale his scent, holding in more sobs as relief overtakes you. "Of course I was worried, you fool," you pause and sniffle, "I was scared you'd never come home."

James wraps his arms around you. "I will always come home to you and Harry. Always, okay?" 

You nod, resting your ear against your chest as you hold him. He sighs and rests his chin on your head, rubbing your back. "I'm gonna take a shower and you should go to bed, I'll tell you everything in the morning, okay?" 

You shake your head, holding him tighter. You just want to be close to him. You don't want to let him out of your sight.

James can tell and he kisses your head. "Okay, okay, my love. I'm not going anywhere," he says in a whisper and he sighs, "I never want to be away from you again."

[seriousbrat]

How do you think others perceived Lily and James' relationship once they started dating?

Many people seem to believe the main obstacle was that Lily hated James, but both the author and other characters clarify that this wasn’t true. It’s more likely that she found him too immature at first, but not that she actually hated him.

What I like to focus on, however, is the idea that the real challenge in their relationship may have been tied to blood status and the societal pressure that came with it. I can see how some people who weren’t purists themselves might still harbor biases against Muggle-borns, leading them to distance themselves from them in an attempt to evade the attention of real purists. People might see it as foolish for these two to be together. Others, especially those who had crushes on James, might wonder why he would choose a Muggle-born when he could easily be with someone who is half-blood or pure-blood. The most extreme ones would gossip and say hurtful things that no teenage couple would want to hear.

It’s been mentioned multiple times that Harry, at his core, takes after Lily. We see how he broke up with Ginny to protect her, so I can imagine that, while Lily may not have wanted to break up with James in the same way, she might have been hesitant to enter relationships. During the time they lived in, being friends with a Muggle-born is one thing, but dating one is another.

There isn’t much information about the Potter family, but James’ black-and-white woldview likely came from them. To him, you’re either opposed to blood purity, or you’re on the wrong side. The Potters have a long history of being open toward Muggles, and there’s some great meta on Tumblr that explores James’ grandfather, Henry, and his support for Muggles during World War I. The theory suggests that if Henry lived in Godric’s Hollow, surrounded by Muggles, he might have formed friendships with them and watched as generations of men he knew were lost to the war. This could explain his disappointment with the Wizengamot’s ignorance to Muggle suffering. That frustration may have carried over to his son Fleamont, who later passed it on to James. Therefore, I think that James's parents were more familiar with Muggles than Weasleys, and that's why they had no problems with Lily

Another thing to consider is that Lily and James were asked to join Voldemort when they came of age, which in wizarding society is 17. This would place them in the latter part of their sixth year at Hogwarts. While it’s harder to pinpoint exactly when Lily was approached (and even more puzzling as to why Voldemort would recruit her), we know from the prequel, set in 1977, that James and Sirius were already being pursued by Death Eaters at that time.

On a subconscious level, James likely felt a sense of security in his status, which would have been completely shattered by the attempt to recruit him, especially since Voldemort had a habit of killing those who refused him. Moreover, it would be a harsh blow for him to realize that the Death Eaters even thought someone like him could be persuaded to join them.

the real challenge in their relationship may have been tied to blood status and the societal pressure that came with it.

I mean, I think this was something that was definitely operating on some level in their relationship, as well as class-- the Potters were very wealthy, while Lily was from a working-class Muggle family. I think these two things caused some difference between them and possibly some friction or argument, but I don't think it was a HUGE challenge in their relationship, exactly.

I had another anon mention recently that they thought Lily would have been very careful around dating purebloods because of her Muggle-born status (and I didn't address it because my reply was long enough lol) but I don't see this as particularly true, honestly. Not for how I see Lily's character-- generally trusting, determined to see the good in others-- but also not for the way I think the general culture at Hogwarts is in canon, even during the first war.

Similarly, I sometimes find it a bit exaggerated in fics when everyone at Hogwarts, including Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs, openly despises and shuns Lily for being Muggleborn and goes around insulting her. Not only do we know she was popular at school, personally I think that's also a bit of an oversimplification of what we see in canon. That's not to say bigotry didn't exist among non-Slytherins; I'm going to try and explain this as well as I can because I think it's quite complex, and also quite complex to portray.

The way bigotry against Muggle-borns functions in mainstream wizarding society appears to be in general quite subtle, largely rooted in apathy and a sort of seemingly "benign prejudice," the "Cornelius Fudge Mindset," if you will. Unless you're in a very particular pureblood supremacist context, it's not socially acceptable to openly call someone a Mudblood, as we see in the Gryffindor team's reactions to Malfoy using the slur in CoS. Your average Hufflepuff is likely not going to be actively hostile towards Muggle-borns-- remember that those three houses include and have always included plenty of Muggle-born students.

Ernie MacMillan and Hannah Abbott, both purebloods, are very fierce in their defence of Justin Finch-Fletchley in CoS. In OotP we learn that Ernie's family, who definitely lived through the first war, has similar views to his, which is where he probably learnt them. I think simply growing up in a house alongside Muggle-born kids helps with this immensely.

Open bigotry has festered so acutely in Slytherin because Muggle-borns are NOT allowed to be sorted into the house (ik people differ on this but I understood it as the Hat physically cannot sort them into Slytherin by design.) Any half-bloods like Snape probably learn quickly to downplay their Muggle side.

As I said, though, bigotry still exists, even among non-Slytherin purebloods, and the subtle nature of it doesn't make things any less difficult for Muggle-borns. I brought this up in my fic when a pureblood girl on the Gryffindor team, who has a crush on James, can't understand why he'd date Lily because 'they don't have anything in common.' But James has to drag this confession out of her, and she's (rightly) very, very ashamed of herself immediately upon expressing it in public. And this sort of prejudice can be much harder to see and combat, because it usually goes unspoken. It exists, though, and it's the reason why anti-muggleborn propaganda was accepted so easily in DH. (though per Arthur, not by everyone- most are just too scared to do anything about it.)

Many purebloods might assume that Muggle-borns are less talented at magic like Slughorn does, but I think most normal people wouldn't generally say this to a Muggle-born's face, and on some level they'd recognise that this belief is shameful (as Slughorn appears to do: "You mustn't think me prejudiced!") Even if they believe it, it would simply be impolite. These people wouldn't consider themselves bigoted, they might even have Muggle-born friends and colleagues. But ultimately they wouldn't do anything to actively address the struggles that Muggle-borns face (especially out of fear during the war,) nor would they stop to question the world around them. They might not question, for example, why Muggle-borns are passed over for job opportunities, because it works in their favour.

After the Ministry coup in DH, Voldemort puts a great deal of effort into a propaganda campaign against Muggle-borns, but this hadn't been done previously, at least not on that level. As I said, he's able to take advantage of existing "mild" prejudice very easily, which is precisely what makes it dangerous. But even during the first war, I don't think Voldemort's or the Blacks' view on Muggle-borns was supposed to have been the mainstream-- not at Hogwarts under Dumbledore, and not wholly at the Ministry either-- and I think expressing such views publicly would be generally considered impolite. Outside of Slytherins, I don't get the feeling that admitting that you think Muggle-borns and purebloods shouldn't date would be very socially acceptable at Hogwarts, even if it's what you secretly believe. Now, obviously Slytherins would be saying this, but at the point that James and Lily got together, they're not setting much store by what any Slytherins think.

James is VERY openly pro-Muggleborn, as is his family, as is everyone he surrounds himself with. He and Lily were both popular, they were Head Boy and Girl, so largely due to social pressure (also knowing how strongly James and Sirius feel on the subject and how jinx-happy they are) I'm not sure that many Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, or Ravenclaws would really dare comment, especially not to their faces.

All this being said, I can imagine certain people, maybe even acquaintances of the Potters, thinking that Lily's 'taking advantage' of James for his wealth and the safety of his pureblood status, especially as she probably wasn't working while in the Order. I will actually deal with this in my fic too, though it appears to have more to do with class than blood status. Of course, we can't forget that those things are in many ways intertwined in the wizarding world, so there is an underlying bigotry there even if it's not intentional. I can definitely see Lily struggling with this a bit, especially because James would be more than willing to support her financially and buy her things, which might make her uncomfortable. And James not really understanding this (because he wants to make her happy and has never struggled with money himself) might be a bit of an issue, but one they can overcome I'm sure.

I know this reply is already incredibly long, but I wanted to say that, like you, the fact of Voldemort trying to recruit Lily has always puzzled me. I've dealt with it in a way that makes sense, I think. Perhaps if Voldemort really wanted James onside he'd realise that James wouldn't join without Lily, so he made a concession, especially since Lily is also a capable witch herself. I've no doubt it would have bothered James to be asked, but his immediate reaction was probably to loudly, clearly, and angrily refuse, and to spit in Voldy's face basically. I had a lot of fun writing that scene actually heehee

[padfootagain]

Come Back to Me

Hello guys! Here is a request I’ve received for Sirius by an anon:’ can you do a Sirius x reader where the reader goes to visit him in Azkaban after what happened with the potters? Thank you!!’

Thank you so much for your request! I hope you enjoy what I’ve written! It’s very angsty, as you can imagine…

I’ve loved working on this, much more than I thought I would tbh! I’m seriously hesitating to turn this into a series, so tell me if you want this story to continue! (I might do some polls tomorrow too… let’s see!).

I hope you like it! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Sirius Black x reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, very very angsty… cried my hearts out while writing this. Cheers.

Summary: Sirius has been arrested after the attack at Godric’s Hollow and the murder of Peter Pettigrew. He’s been sentenced to spend his life in a cell, and you have a chance to see him one last time at Azkaban.

Word count: 4070

It was raining outside.

Heavy rain falling from grey clouds. Tapping against window panes and rooftops. Heavy as it fell, it was loud and irregular, sometimes more violent because of the wind. Howling, almost…

It was a sad weather, and in the dying afternoon, it made darkness conquer the light of the sun even faster than night normally would. It fitted your evening, you reckoned. It fitted your life, really…

Funny how one evening could break your entire being. One minute you had your best friends by your side, a home, a man you loved, and the next… the next everything was gone…

One evening. The attack that night didn’t last more than a few minutes, reports said. A handful of seconds, and everything was gone. You had lost your best friends and then… a few hours later, Sirius was arrested. Rumours spread fast, and Dumbledore confirmed them all: he was accused of betraying the Potters, of killing Peter, of breaking everything and everyone around him.

You weren’t allowed to see Sirius during his trial. People said he had gone mad, and the few pictures you had seen of him seemed to show him this way, that was true.

But this man you had loved so deeply, you had trusted so fully, so blindly… how could he do all this?

Betraying the Potters? James was his brother. Harry was like a son to him. And killing Peter in cold-blood murder? No… no nothing made sense…

You knew there was a traitor in the Order, suspicion had been growing for months, but to imagine Sirius as the culprit was unfathomable. He was loyal to a fault. If there was one Gryffindor quality that he embodied, it was this one. No, you couldn’t imagine Sirius doing any of it…

And yet there you were, in Azkaban, on this god-forsaken rock in the middle of the ocean, batted by rain and waves, beaten up by the angry sky and the hungry sea alike, as if all the elements combined their forces in an attempt to drown it all…

Through the old window, you could see Dementors passing by, floating out there in mid-air, their shadowy figures unbothered, it would seem, by the heavy rain and the biting cold. But then again… they were the ones, devouring all warmth until none remained.

You were waiting to see Sirius. For all you knew, it could be the last time you would see him. It wasn’t common to visit a prisoner here, especially when he was sentenced to such a heavy punishment.

Remus had refused to come. He didn’t want to see Sirius. You weren’t certain whether or not he believed it all to be true, but you knew he was scared. You reckoned he was a little like you, about all this: hanging on by a thread, holding onto the last feeble hope that maybe, just maybe, everybody was wrong and he was innocent. But then again, seeing him, talking to him after all this… it could break you in more ways than one.

Seeing him in this hell… it would take all your strength to bear the sight. And what if… what if you were wrong? What if the rest of the world was right? What if he was guilty?

Remus didn’t come. He couldn’t take the risk to be certain. Whether or not Sirius was innocent, it would be too much to take. If he was guilty, it meant that he had betrayed all of you. If he was innocent, it meant that his life would be wasted over nothing. And then… where could the murderer be? Who could it be?

There was a crack running across the windowpane, it let a little bit of rain come inside. A wet line slipping down the wall, making a small puddle form on the stony ground. It was cold, even inside the prison… you remembered how warm it felt to sleep under the covers with Sirius by your side. He always grew cold during night. He claimed that it was the reason why he kept on holding onto you, even during his sleep, but you knew better… or at least, you thought that you did…

You jumped when a jailer opened the door. You had been waiting in a small room, but you were to be guided to Sirius’s cell directly to see him. They had pretexted that he was too dangerous to be taken outside his cell for you to meet in another room. You reckoned that they were simply too cruel.

Anyway, you followed the jailer across the dirty and dark corridor of the prison. Sirius’s cell was on the inner part of the building, close to the small courtyard that sit at the centre of the island. It wasn’t much of a sight to see, but you hoped that it meant for Sirius to have a small window in his cell…

The jailer was a rather young wizard. Blond hair, pale skin, pale eyes. As if he had lived in the shadows for too long, without seeing the sun. But then again, if he worked here, it was probably the case…

You expected cells closed with bars of steel, and you did cross several corridors filled with this type of small prison cells. But Sirius was considered particularly dangerous, apparently. That was what the guard explained to you as he guided you through the labyrinth of corridors and doors leading to the more secured part of the building. Sirius was not detained in the most secured cells, but in an intermediate security level, which included closed cells and a dementor constantly roaming the corridor. When you passed next to one of the creatures, you reached for your wand, out of reflex, before remembering that you had left it at the entrance of the prison. You were unarmed.

Finally, you stopped in front of an iron door plagued with brown stains of rust. Everything seemed wet and moulded. It smelled of something rotten. You could see spots of water on the ground down the corridor, frozen because of the dementor that had just hovered over that spot…

There were about a dozen of doors like Sirius’s on each side of the corridor. Torches lit up the hallway, but it was still cold and dark inside. You heard the rumbling noise of thunder shaking the ground and the air alike, but you saw no lightning. There were no windows there. Only the feeble light of waning torches, and the silhouette of the dementor floating away.

“You have ten minutes,” the guard said, opening a small hatch in the door.

The opening was about the size of your closed fist, right at the level of your eyes. It was merely meant to look inside. There was another similar hatch below, that you guessed was meant to pass over food to the prisoners.

“You said I could see him in his cell,” you protested, expecting to go inside.

But the jailer shook his head.

“He’s too dangerous for that. Do you want to die?”

“He would never hurt me.”

“Say that to the friends he got killed.”

He huffed, disdainful, and it hurt more than you expected to, to hear him say something like that…

It was clear that you wouldn’t have anything more than a glimpse in his cell. It was better than nothing, you stopped complaining.

The guard banged on the door, making you jump at the loud noise.

“Black! You scum! Wake up!”

You were so mad to hear him shout at Sirius like this… but in this place, with all the emotions that were bubbling in your chest at the idea of seeing him again, with all this fear eating at you… you couldn’t fight back against this guard. You couldn’t defend Sirius. You could only shake, in this cold corridor. You could only shudder, and blink your tears away.

“Hey! I told you to wake up! There’s someone here for you! BLACK!”

You peered inside over the guard’s shoulder, and more tears gathered at the corner of your eyes, some that you couldn’t simply blink away.

The cell was tiny, a bed and some disgusting toilets could barely fit in there. There was a window in the wall opposite the door, if one could call such a small aperture a window. There was no windowpane, only three bars that almost completely blocked the little bit of light that could have come inside. The rain, pushed by the wind, was falling inside and forming a puddle near the wall. Sirius was lying on the bed, barely more than a mattress, wrapped in a blanket pierced with holes. It was more of a rag than anything else.

You felt tears starting to roll down your cheeks. This was too hard… Remus had been right, you shouldn’t have come at all…

You pushed the guard away, but he didn’t protest, and walked away. He sat down in an old wooden chair set down the corridor, near the door.

You took a deep breath, trying to summon your voice and your courage alike. All you could muster was a shaky whisper all the same.

“Sirius…”

You saw him tensing. You waited for him, but he didn’t move, so you called for him again. Only his name, spoken in a voice barely louder than a whisper. Nothing more.

At last, he moved. Slowly. Barely noticeable at first, but then he turned his head towards the door and stared at this ridiculously small opening. He could see your eyes… you… but you couldn’t be here…

“Y/N?” he called, his voice hoarse, a croak more than a word.

But he saw you nodding, wiping your tears away with your sleeve, before holding onto the edge of the hatch with both your hands, trying to get as close to him as you could.

“Sirius!”

“You… you’re not real”, he breathed, shaking his head. “They’re… they’re playing with my head again…”

You guessed that he meant the Dementors. You shook your head.

“Sirius, please… I’m really here. I don’t have much time. I’m here, my love. It’s really me. I’m here…”

His eyes grew round, but he slowly sat up, then stood, movements slow and cautious, as if he was expecting some kind of deception, some kind of trap. But he walked to the door anyway, blinked a few times, and you were still there.

He had been in this cell for six months now; only six months and you already noticed the toll his stay in Azkaban had on him.

He was thinner than you remembered. Cheeks hallowed, paler skin, darker bags under his eyes. He seemed exhausted. His hair was dishevelled, longer than the last time you had seen him. And his beard was much longer as well. You guessed he didn’t have anything to shave. Some of his tattoos were peering above the collar of his shirt, his clothes dirty and already filled with small holes. He was barefoot, you noticed.

He reached out towards your hand, your fingers holding tightly on the edge of the hatch. You could fit your hand inside the cell but not your arm. You reached for him too, until your fingers touched his. His mouth fell open, tears appeared in his eyes, before he closed his hand onto yours, holding tight, a little too tight actually, it was almost painful but you didn’t mind.

His bottom lip trembled as tears started to run down his face.

“You’re really here?” he asked, fragile and broken, and it shattered your already-broken heart.

You nodded, it was all that you had the strength to do, your throat was too tight by then. Sirius was shaken by a sob, before he pressed his lips to your fingers, and palm and every inch of your skin he could reach.

“Love… My love…” he kept on repeating, as you both let yourselves cry, staring at each other.

The door didn’t allow you to kiss, you tried to press your face against the hatch, but you couldn’t reach his lips. He closed his eyes tightly, and banged his head against the door several times…

“Sirius? Stop it, darling, you’ll hurt yourself. Please, please stop…”

He complied, but kept his forehead pressed against the cool surface, staring at you again.

“How did you get here?”

“Albus,” you simply answered, and it seemed enough of an explanation, as Sirius nodded.

He started shaking his head vehemently all of a sudden, fear now visible on every inch of his face, drowning his eyes. He tightened his hold on your hand.

“Y/N! Baby, I didn’t do anything! You have to believe me. Please… I would never have done that… never! I would have never betrayed the Order, and especially not James, you know… you know that, right? You believe me, right? I didn’t… I’m innocent!”

If there was any doubt left in your mind when you had walked on this cursed rock, there was none clouding your head now. It was written everywhere on his features and in his grey eyes. It wasn’t him… it wasn’t him…

You nodded, brushing your tears away and sniffing loudly. You were a mess, but you didn’t give a damn.

“I know. I believe you. I believe you, Sirius. I know it wasn’t you.”

For the first time in months, Sirius smiled. He grinned, even, almost laughing out of relief. You smiled at him too.

“Thank you…”

He reached outside the cell and you got closer so he could brush his fingertips across your cheek. You shivered at the feeling. It was crazy, how you felt better and safer and warmer just because of a small brush of his skin against yours…

“I couldn’t do anything to get you out,” you whispered. “I’m so sorry… Albus and I tried everything…”

“I know. It’s not your fault. It was a set up.”

“Do you know who betrayed us? I looked for clues everywhere, but I didn’t find anything.”

His eyes darkened, his features twisting with wrath and hate.

“It was Peter. This bloody rat!”

“Peter?! But Peter is dead!”

“No! He’s not! He set me up! We changed at the last minute who would be the secret keeper, I was too worried they would get to me. I shouldn’t have… it was all my fault…”

“Peter was the secret keeper? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m sorry, I should have…”

“So… he faked his own death?”

“Yes. I knew it was him, of course I did. He turned into the rat he really is and disappeared.”

You nodded, a whirlwind of thoughts in your mind now. It seemed plausible enough… It still made more sense than to believe Sirius guilty.

“But how can I find him?”

Sirius gave you a warm smile.

“My darling… always so stubborn, huh?”

“I’m not giving up on you. I never will! I promise… I’ll find a way to prove you’re innocent…”

But Sirius shook his head.

“There’s no use. I won’t hold on for that long in here…”

“Don’t say things like that! You have to! I’m ordering you to! Do you hear me?”

He smiled, nodded, but you could read in his eyes that he didn’t mean it.

“Sirius…”

“It will take years. If he remains a rat, he can disappear altogether, and then what? You’ll never find him. You won’t find him… love, there’s no need…”

“Sirius, you have to fight. You can’t give up on me. Cause I’m not giving up on you, do you hear? I love you!”

“I love you too. I love you so much…”

You both pressed your foreheads against the door. It was cold and moist and it stank of rusted iron. But there was Sirius’s breath brushing against your face, and it was so reassuring to be near him again…

“I’ll get you out. I’ll find a way to get you out,” you whispered, afraid eavesdroppers could hear.

“I’ll try to hold on…”

“You could escape…”

You looked up at each other. You gave him a smile, the stubborn kind, the ones he knew meant that you were ready to do anything for him…

“I’ll wait for you where we’ll always find each other.”

He knew what you meant. When you had entered the Order after leaving Hogwarts, you had made a plan. If something happened, if one of you needed to run away, you would find each other in the Shrieking Shack. It was safe. Few knew about the secret passageways leading there…

He nodded, giving you a more earnest smile this time.

“Alright… I’ll try… But you would… so many risks…”

His voice broke, his throat too tight. It had been made hoarse by his loneliness there, in this cell, by the shouts he screamed at night, by the visits of the Dementors…

“Don’t even start,” you interrupted him. “I know what I’m doing. I want you… I need you to survive this, and to come back to me. Do you hear? I’ve lost too much I can’t… I can’t lose you too…”

You were crying again, and Sirius soon joined you, throwing his head back to slow down the tears. He sniffed hard before speaking again.

“Where’s Harry? Are you the one taking care of him?”

But you shook your head.

“Albus gave him to someone else… I don’t want to say it here…”

Sirius nodded.

“Is he safe? Is he okay?”

“He’s okay. Albus and Minerva took care of him. He’ll be fine.”

“He should be with us. I should… I should be the one taking care of him and raising him… No… No, actually, none of this should have happened and James…”

But his voice broke again, and he closed his eyes tightly for a moment, trying to get a hold of his emotions, to control it all. But it was so painful to think about what had happened, what should have happened instead. To touch the void James and Lily had left in their wake…

“I know,” you nodded, drying your cheeks once more. “I know…”

“It’s all my fault…”

“Stop it. It won’t bring them back. You’re a good man, Sirius. You have to stop doubting that about yourself.”

He gave you a sad but fond smile, brushing his knuckles across your cheekbone.

“Sorry, I forgot how much you hate it when I do that.”

“Been fighting this habit of yours for years, but you’re so bloody stubborn!”

“I thought you were the stubborn one in our relationship. You’re the stubborn one, and I’m the reckless one.”

“True,” you nodded with a chuckle.

And it felt so good to hear this sound again, so right… Sirius had thought he would never hear it again… the most beautiful sound he had ever heard…

He took in your features, even if your eyes were red, and your cheeks stained with tears, it didn’t matter. You were beautiful. And you seemed sadder than the last time he had seen you, that afternoon, right before that dreadful night, and yet… yet it was still you. You were still the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen, with the same kindness in your gaze, the same fondness in your smile, the same soothing sound in your voice. You were the love of his life, now more than ever, he had no doubt about that. You were everything… his everything…

And he carved in his mind every detail from your eyelashes to the curve of your lips to the form of your jaw and chin. He carved everything in his mind, every detail, to remember you by.

He loved you so much, now more than ever. Even if his world was destroyed, even when he thought he had lost everything, you were still there, promising him that you would remain by his side despite everything and… he didn’t deserve you. He didn’t deserve a love like yours. But Godric, was he thankful and happy to have been granted to hold your hand like this, even if this ought to be the last time he would…

“I’m so lucky to have you,” he whispered. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too. I…”

But you were interrupted by the sound of a chair scraping against the stony floor. When you turned around, the guard was walking towards you. And you knew what it meant…

When you looked at Sirius again, you seemed terrified, desperate even. And he tried to give you a reassuring smile, he really did, he wanted to but… but the thought of you leaving again, the thought that he might never see you after this… it was too painful. Too much to handle. Too much to grieve over.

“It’s time,” the guard said, taking your arm and starting to pull you towards the exit.

“No!” you begged, and you didn’t care to be begging it didn’t matter, you couldn’t leave yet, you weren’t ready to leave him behind. “Please, please just five more minutes. Please!”

But the guard refused, and he pulled you harder, hard enough to hurt, hard enough to imprint a bruise in the shape of his fingers into your upper arm. You didn’t care though, you resisted. You kept your eyes locked on Sirius, trying to memorize every detail about him, even if he was but the shadow of the man he once was already. Still… it was him… same grey eyes filled with demons and guilt and kindness, same hair you loved running your fingers through, same palm against your hand that knew every part of your body, same lips you had kissed a thousand times… it was still him. Rebellious and reckless and sweet and caring and the love of your life…

He was everything… your everything…

And you couldn’t lose him. Not like that… it was too unfair…

“PLEASE!” you cried, holding onto Sirius’s hand, but the guard was relentless, and you were slipping away…

“I love you,” Sirius said in a hurry, conscious that he was running out of time. “Y/N, my darling, I love you so much. I always will. Do you hear? I love you, and I always will, no matter what happens…”

“I love you! Sirius!”

But the guard dragged you away, and your fingers slipped away from Sirius’s hold.

He pressed himself against the door, trying to catch one more glimpse of you.

“Y/N! Y/N!” he shouted, and you called for him as well as the guard dragged you away, but there was nothing you could do to stop him.

When the door of the corridor closed with a loud noise, Sirius fell to his knees, his temple pressed against the cold door.

There was nothing but silence for a while, before he could hear it again. The languid, vicious breath of the Dementor approaching, down the corridor… and somehow, Sirius knew that he would stop by his cell. He had too many emotions in him now not to attract the nightmares…

It didn’t matter though. He would hold on. He had promised you he would, and he had never broken a vow made to you. He would not let the Dementors take you away from him. Besides, he was innocent. He would hold on, he would not let them break him.

The lock of the door clicked, without any key being inserted in the keyhole. When he let out a shaky breath, the air leaving Sirius’s lungs formed a little puff of smoke, white and ethereal, in the unnaturally cold air.

Sirius closed his eyes, and he didn’t cower in a corner, didn’t try to find shelter. He had learnt during the previous months that it was useless, that there was nowhere to hide. The fight was in his head, in his heart, not in the cell.

He looked up to find the hooded spectre he was expecting. It was okay though. He would hold on. He had to, for you…

One day, he would escape this hell. He would find a way. Nothing and no one could hold him back from coming back to you.

Upon his cheeks, the tears that had lingered froze, turned into small beads of ice that shone despite the darkness of the cell. There was no warmth left anywhere… only dark and cold. But there was your memory as well…

Sirius simply hoped that when he would find a way to escape, you would still be there, waiting for him.

*****************

Taglist : @reg-arcturus-black @wolfmoonmusic @omgrachwrites

@hells-escapees

[cyberplex]

Howdy, Kit, and welcome to the Cyberplex! Please submit your account to the main in the next 72 hours and look over the rest of our checklist here. We look forward to seeing Gage Chernykh, Godric Chernykh, Harlem Diaz, and Kylo Bronson on the dash.

spencer charnas / he/him  ———  no way is that GODRIC CHERNYKH .. they’re a 35-year-old HUMAN notoriously known for being DEPRESSED &  OMINOUS but there are some people who have seen them being SUCCESSFUL  &  IMAGINATIVE.  if you ask me, they remind me a lot of always having a camera on hand, bullet points on a napkin, unsent text messages, five-o-clock shadow, and hand rolled cigarettes, but that could just be because they’re considered the DREAMER around town. just keep an eye on them  &  see if their true colors shine through..

spencer charnas / he/him  ———  no way is that GAGE CHERNYKH.. they’re a 35-year-old HUMAN notoriously known for being APATHETIC  &  CREEPY but there are some people who have seen them being METHODICAL  &  SHARP.  if you ask me, they remind me a lot of remnants of a russian accent, blood on a tile floor, a smile that doesn’t meet the eyes, hair and heart as black as coal, the quiet in losing loved ones, and a well placed mask, but that could just be because they’re considered the EVIL TWIN around town. just keep an eye on them  &  see if their true colors shine through..

dominic fike / he/him  ———  no way is that HARLEM DIAZ.. they’re a 26-year-old SYNTH notoriously known for being GULLIBLE  &  SPACEY but there are some people who have seen them being FREE SPIRITED &  OPTIMISTIC.  if you ask me, they remind me a lot of the perfect playlist, stick and poke tattoos, goofy t-shirts and oversized sweatshirts, puppy dog eyes, and random lyrics written in pocket size notebooks, but that could just be because they’re considered the FUNCTIONAL ADDICT around town. just keep an eye on them  &  see if their true colors shine through..

samuel larson / he/him  ———  no way is that KYLO BRONSON.. they’re a 33-year-old HUMAN notoriously known for being RESENTFUL  &  ROGUERY but there are some people who have seen them being WILD &  SLICK.  if you ask me, they remind me a lot of assorted body piercings, jumping the train tracks, a message history filled with memes, dark circles under eyes from lack of sleep, and doodles on post-its stuck randomly in his wake, but that could just be because they’re considered the TRICKSTER around town. just keep an eye on them  &  see if their true colors shine through..

[vazaha-tya]

the thing is that jkr compared trans activists to death eaters which puts me in the awkward position of wanting to write a fic where death eaters are in the right (which is super difficult to justify since blood supremacy is basically an unholy mix of racism, classism and ableism. i've mentioned that in a previous post but yeah, that's the reason why dark harry fics require me to suspend disbelief a little because the rhetoric to justify him switching sides is not always well thought-out. death eaters are not nazis but they're pretty damn close)

and i kept thinking, what if voldemort hadn't killed the potters? what if he was in godric's hollow for another reason and someone else came that night?

like obviously that wouldn't work in canon but it would be a full alternate universe

so i've been imagining harry getting death visions after [insert one of his many brushes with death]. more specifically, he sees the deaths of members of the potter family line. some who died by witch burning - which gives him a little crisis because wtf muggles -, others in war, illness or peacefully in their sleep. and he finds out that the potters, for reasons i won't explain because that would be spoiling, are immune to the killing curse.

and now he's confused because that contradicts what he remembers from his contact with dementors.

if his death visions are true and james potter couldn't have died from avada kedavra like he heard in third year, then what happened that night?

(tagging @captaincacata and @dandelionyolk since you commented on the previous post. do tell me what you think!)

will my readers kill me if i start another wip i'm not sure i'll finish?

i have a really good idea i think

[fandomvariousness]

Prompt 22 - Don’t try and stop me now

Pairing: Godric x human!reader

Warnings: brief mentions of violence, smut

Request: “can u do a yandere godric imagine with the prompt 22 please?”

Word count: 380

To everyone else, Godric seemed like he wouldn’t hurt a fly, even though he is a 2000-year-old vampire. Yet with you, his livelier side blossomed – he laughed more often, was more dynamic and willing to do anything for you.

Yet he was also jealous. Extremely jealous.

It seemed to him that you, being such a fragile human, can be taken away from him easily. Not that he would let that happened, but he knew someone would try to tamper with his patience one way or another. When it comes to you, he has zero tolerance towards bullshit.

You were reminded of that once again when some cheeky vampire from a neighboring state clearly demonstrated that he wants to score you, without realizing just who’s mate you are.

It was an annual meeting of sheriffs, and each of them brought some of their subordinates, one of which happened to be that ignorant, relentless vampire that didn’t want to let you go.

“Listen,” you said, changing your tone. “See that, uh, fuming vampire over there?” you curtly nodded your head towards Godric.

“Yeah?” he said. “That’s Godric, he’s –”

“My boyfriend.” you interrupted him, a small smile playing on your lips upon seeing fear flash through your interlocutor’s eyes. “And I think he’s disapproving of you bothering me. Don’t you think so?”

The vampire raised his eyebrows awkwardly and creeped away with an awkward smile.

Fighting the smile tugging at your lips you returned to Godric, who was still quite displeased.

“It was so obvious, written right on his face.” he spat out. “He didn’t want to merely talk with you.”

“Relax, I fended him off just fine.” you cooed, satisfied with yourself.

“Don’t try and stop me now.” he said and made a beeline towards your earlier ‘friend’, but you placed your dainty palm on his chest.

“No need. He won’t even look at me now.”

It took a few more moments for Godric to finally tear his murderous gaze from the vampire and turn it to you, immediately softening it.

You wound your hands around his neck and felt how his whole posture relaxes.

He lightly shook his head in disbelief as you chuckled, looking straight in your eyes. “2000 years on this earth and I’ve never felt more alive.”

[masterjasper223]

The Party No One Remembers

When Eric thinks of Godric, as he was before he died, in recent history, there's one night in particular that comes to mind. Only he, Pam and Bill still remember the event clearly, because all of the humans in attendance had had their memories wiped. All, that is, except for you and Sookie- but both of you had gotten so blackout drunk that glamouring wouldn't have been necessary, even if it had been possible for someone to do it to Sookie, and even if Eric had been able to bring himself to do it to you.

Flashback to the night in question...

It was late, only a few hours before dawn, around the time when the party had slowed down and most of the hangers-on had gone home. All of the decent ones, anyway.

"Let's play spin the bottle!"

One of the nameless humans suggested it, and had set the game in motion before anyone had even agreed.

The first spin stopped on Pam and Sookie.

Bill, who didn't know the aim of the game, hadn't been paying attention, and was caught off guard when Pam appeared beside his then-girlfriend, tilted up her chin with a manicured fingernail and laid a surprisingly chaste kiss on her mouth, finishing up with a suggestive tug on her lower lip.

The game had nearly ended right then and there when Bill had tried to throw Pam across the room- but Godric had intervened, ever the voice of reason, (albeit one interrupted every few seconds by Sookie's drunken giggles).

Eventually, Bill had simmered down, but he kept a protective hand on Sookie's shoulder for the rest of the night, and the bottle didn't settle on the pair again after that, always mysteriously wobbling in the opposite direction just when it seemed about to stop.

The second spin stopped on Eric and Jason.

Jason, who had been eyeing up the girl with the short skirt next to him, had jumped about a foot in the air when Eric's cold hand had closed around his bicep, eyes flying wide as the blond vampire ensnared his lips in a brief, but passionate, kiss.

The third spin stopped on Isabel and Jessica.

Ignoring Bill's disapproving look, the redhead practically leapt onto Isabel's lap, wrapping her thighs around the older vampire's hips and locking eyes with her expectantly. To everyone's surprise, Isabel indulged her in a minute-long make-out session before kicking her off.

The fourth spin landed on you and Godric, who had only sat down in the circle after resolving the commotion with Bill and Pam. Clearly, his intention had not been to play along- but then, what was a kiss to a vampire of his age?

Nothing, of course.

Or so he had thought, right up until he had cupped your cheek and was leaning in to kiss you- and he had sensed Eric's displeasure.

********************************************

Godric cocked his head, so that his progeny, who was seated beside you in the circle, entered his field of vision. His jaw was set in a hard line, and his blue eyes were full of an emotion that Godric would not have needed their connection to name.

Jealousy.

Yes, but underneath it lurked something more. He probed the feelings Eric was emanating through their bond, and was surprised to discover a twinge of guilt. Less surprising was the hunger, mingled with possessiveness and desire- but there was a stronger emotion threading all of it together, an undercurrent of--

"Godric, are you going to kiss me or not?" you huffed, tugging at the cold hand that was still cupping your face.

That was a good question.

Godric hummed, stroking your cheek and brushing his nose with yours, until your eyes fluttered closed again.

Eric hadn't kissed you yet. That much was obvious. You clearly weren't his, either- if you had tasted Eric's blood, Godric would have known. But why was that? Why was he pining for you? It was most unlike Eric not to act.

Of course, he had only just reconnected with his progeny, so he did not know of the circumstances surrounding the two of you, but all the same, it was hard for him to imagine what might be keeping you apart.

Perhaps he just needed an incentive?

A ghost of a smile graced Godric's lips before he closed the distance between you at last, claiming your mouth in a sensual kiss.

And as he did, several things happened at once.

The humans got bored of waiting for the kiss to happen and started spinning the bottle again.

At the same time, a few of the vampires got up and left the circle- Bill among them, leading a very wobbly Sookie away with him.

And then, just as your hand reached out and grasped Godric's shirt, Eric's fangs dropped.

Only Godric and Pam noticed this, but the former feined ignorance, taking his time with your lips before pulling back and placing a ticklish kiss on either side of your mouth.

You laughed, eyes fluttering open, and for a fleeting moment Godric saw you as Eric sees you.

Beautiful.

Exciting.

Fascinating.

His.

But the moment passed as quickly as it had come, and, drunk as you were, you remained oblivious to it, excusing yourself before skipping off to the bathroom to freshen up. Godric chose that moment to wander outside, and Eric followed him, hastily retracting his fangs.

"Is there something you want to say to me, Eric?" Godric asked, in their mother tongue, glancing at his progeny.

Eric remained silent, avoiding his maker's gaze. Godric could tell that he was at once trying to find the words, and unsure whether or not he should speak them.

"We have shared food before, but this was different, yes?" he prompted. "You do not want to share her with anyone, not even me."

Eric shook his head emphatically. "I would do anything for you."

"Ah, Eric..." Godric sighed and turned his face up to the moon. "I have lived for what feels like an eternity. I have seen and done what feels like everything, and have met and tasted, killed and savoured what feels like every human there could be, such that few things have meaning to me anymore. Very few, indeed.

"But for those few things in which I can still find meaning, I would do anything. I would not give them up, or let them from my grasp, even if my own maker ordered me to."

Eric still recalls the thrill of fear he had felt at these words.

This wasn't the Godric he knew. Something within his maker had changed- that had been clear from the moment he had rescued him from that accursed church's basement. There was so much he wanted to say. He felt like he had to say something, anything, to snap Godric out of it and bring back the man- the vampire- he knew, before it was too late. He couldn't help but feel like he was running out of time.

Yet the silence stretched on and on between them, until finally, desperately, he blurted, "You are important to me."

Godric smiled knowingly and held his gaze. "As you are to me. That is why I am giving you this advice."

"I don't need--" Eric protested.

"You love her. Have you told her this?"

Eric clenched his jaw and shook his head. "It's... complicated."

"Well, long as our lives may be, they are still finite. True death awaits us all- we are not so different from humans in that regard. If I were you, I would not waste too much time. Think about what this life means to you, my son."

And with that, Godric had gone.

********************************************

There was one other memory that stood out to him from that night, though this one didn't really involve Godric at all.

Flashback to the night in question...

"Hey! Eric!"

It was after Godric had left him alone outside. You caught up to him on the stairs leading up to your rooms for the night, and wasted no time in (as Eric thought of it) pushing his buttons.

"Did you enjoy your kiss with Jason?" you teased, poking him in the ribs.

"No," he said, shortly. "Did you enjoy your kiss with Godric?" The question came out a little more sharply than he had intended, but thankfully you didn't seem to notice.

You nodded frantically, then quickly shook your head, frowning.

The corner of Eric's mouth twitched. "Well? Which is it?"

"He took way long- too long," you said, stumbling over your words and, at the same time, careening into Eric's side, nearly pushing him over the edge of the bannister and falling down the stairs yourself. He caught you with some difficulty, one hand gripping the bannister hard enough to warp the metal, the other grabbing your arm much more gently and tugging you into an awkward half-hug.

Your hands, meanwhile, were less well-behaved. Somehow your floundering fingers had come to rest on the front of his trousers and under his button-up shirt.

"Mmph. This is dangerous," you muttered, squeezing the denim- or, rather, the hardening length you could feel through it.

The situation was absurd enough to be comical, but Eric couldn't laugh.

You were right- it was dangerous. He was overstimulated, and vulnerable- what with your hands squeezing his cock and scratching at his bare skin, your delicious pulse thrumming right under his nose, the turmoil of his feelings for both you and Godric swirling in his breast, the sight of you kissing his maker still fresh in his mind's eye...

For the second time that night, his fangs dropped.

In the blink of an eye you were both inside his room, with the door locked and you pressed flat against it. One of his hands had your arms pinned above your head, while the other tangled in your hair, pulling your neck just so, making the vein there stand out against your skin. His teeth grazed it...

"Eric?"

Not like this.

He released you, and a split-second later he was sitting on the edge of the bed on the far side of the room.

You stumbled over to him, confused. Eric very much doubted you had even been able to process what had just happened, and felt a further stab of guilt as you asked, "What's wrong?"

But he just shook his head.

"We'll talk about it in the morning."

If you remember any of this.

"Eric?"

"Yes?"

"I don't feel so good..."

And with that, you face-planted onto the bed beside him, groaning in pain. He saw you safely into bed in your own room, and spent a restless day in the too-big bed in his separate, temporary, light-proof suite- alone.

********************************************

Of course, you hadn't remembered anything about the party when you had awoken late the following afternoon with a terrible hangover.

So that conversation had never happened, and since that night, nothing else has happened between the two of you, either.

But the more Eric reflects on these memories, the more he thinks: Maybe it's time he took Godric's advice.

[lovemurphythe100]

Imagine how protective Godric is over you if anyone is disrespectful against you.

(I love this scene)

[multifandomfanfiction]

My Girl - Snippet (From the Vault)

[A/N - This one is super cute and I’m sad that I have no recollection of writing it or where I was going with it. In my defense I started writing it in 2014. Oh well.]

Godric and Eric were enjoying a quiet evening at home, when there was a crash.

Eric was on his feet in a second.

Suddenly, the book Godric had in his hands disappeared. It appeared on the side table.

“What the…?” Godric asked.

Eric had his head cocked to the side in confusion. Something blew in his ear. He whipped around and nothing was there. Eric ran his hand thru his hair. His hand touched something. He pulled it out.

It was a paper flower in the shape of a lily.

Eric smiled and whistled an old tune. He waited.

It suddenly echoed.

“Alright, you can come out now”, Eric said.

Godric and Eric heard a sigh.

“I’ll come out if you can find me”, a voice said.

Eric listened carefully. “Why am I even trying? You’re hanging from the rafters.”

“How’d you guess?”

 “You always used to do that.”

She landed in front of him.

He leaned down and kissed her forehead.

“Took me years to track you down Eric Northman”, she said, “It would’ve been easier if I was the maker and not the other way around”.

Godric looked confused.

“You must be Godric. Eric’s told me so much about you. You also always had a habit of sneaking around in my dreams.”

“Godric, I would like for you to meet my first daughter Lillian”, Eric said.

Lily shoved Eric off her. “God Eric. You know I hate that name. My name is Lily”, Lily told Godric.

Godric gave her a small smile.

“Where’s Pam?” Lily asked.

“At Fangtasia”, Eric said.

Lily bust out into laughter.

“Would you quit laughing at my bar’s name?” Eric asked.

Godric smiled at the way Eric and his child interacted with each other. It was more of a best friend relationship than a maker/child.

[saltyluminaryvoid]

Meet Your Maker

Chapter Two: What Goes Around Comes Around

A Godric x coloured OC Imagine.

A short story on Mastani Zavare, a young elusive heiress who goes missing. 24 hrs after the amber alert is called, she awakes as the second born child of Godric. Follow her as she navigates the vampiric hierarchy, her blood lust for revenge and awakening feelings for the two vampires in her life. 

chapter one here

“My mother would have told me to move on and allow Karma to do her work, but I am my own force of nature and I take my fate into my hands tonight.” -SimpilySuspicious. 

The night had only begun and Eric was high on blood and sex, Fangtasia as always was thrumming with the wild beats of drunken hearts, hushed provocations into ears and human arousal. Much to his dismay, the beautiful  naked man in his dungeon did little to quell his anger and even little to comfort him. After his futile attempts (which in true Eric fashion ranged from pained anger to pleading deliberations) to convince his maker to return to Louisiana and not take his own life, Eric was commanded to promptly return to sheriffdom. With no way to disobey his maker, he left Dallas and Sookie behind that very night, unable to follow Godric as he took to the skies. His maker with a sombre smile had begrudgingly accepted  his childe’s last wish to leave their bond intact until he met true death. Godric had always known, Eric would rather first meet the true death than relinquish his bond to his maker. 

Eric nearly lost in the depths of pain, continued to brutally fuck and drink from the young man hanging by arms, legs wrapped around his waist as the human screamed in both pain and ecstasy. So caught into the depths of his depression, the sudden but short gush of renewed joy coupled with the formation of an added family bond left him frozen. The human turned from screaming to loud pants and moans as he desperately tried to catch his breath. As quickly as Eric stopped his thrusts began with renewed vigour as peace flooded through him and smile made its way onto his face at the thoughts for a baby sibling. The human came once more legs quivering for the very last time that night as the Viking finished his meal, leaving the young man with an offering of his blood in thanks. Eric's mind set to now make nest preparations to welcome his maker and sibling home.

**************************************************************************************************************

Perched high upon the forest canopy, with arms gripped tightly around his newborn Godric began to concoct a devious plan to drive the four humans to insanity. But first it was time to feed his ravenous daughter. Confident in his maker’s command Godric released Mastani from his powerful grasp and with the practised ease of two thousand years of stalking unwilling victims Godric pounced. 

First, he quickly and efficiently glamoured the four, noting the strong resemblance between the lone woman and his childe not to mention the bit of vile conservation she spewed, he easily determined her to be the mastermind. Using his bond as a guide to fulfil his daughter’s wishes, he kept the woman behind. The bond flared with feelings of betrayal, hurt and anger towards the woman and Godric felt his emotions arise as the need to sink his teeth into her and snap the woman’s neck himself grew. Godric halted and cleared his head. Reprimanding himself softly, to gain better control of his emotions. He was over two millennia, he should know better than to allow emotions of the bond to affect sound judgement. As per Mastani’s fantasies he sent the three men on their way but he allowed them a few drops of his ancient blood to ensure he would always be aware of their location. She had known them longer and wished for them to suffer greatly for their betrayal to the family by her hands. And yes it had occurred to him that maybe it wasn’t the greatest idea to use the human who manipulated the scum of the earth to murder and defile her own sister as the first meal for said sister. Hopefully he could turn it into a grounding lesson in control before his first born corrupts his new sister with his antics, Godric thought despairingly but somewhat fondly at the thought of seeing his Viking soon.

Up above, Mastani looked on frozen in her perch, unable to act upon her  preservation instincts. Snarls escaped her as the angel approached the danger and passed commands over them. deep down she would feel two presences, one unfamiliar but safe her instincts spoke, hovering within and gentling probing within her in curiosity and wonder and one which called her to her angel. Nervously looking down, Mastani tightened her grip upon the tree and fear flooded into the shared bond.

Her angel looked up, a fond smile playing upon his lips as he held his hands out, a promise to catch her she realised, and once again beckoned her to his arms. Her un-beating heart surged as unknown feelings of calm and protectiveness surged into her, urging her to trust which in turn gave her the push she needed to make the jump. (Later she would realise those feelings came from the unknown bond which began to slowly intertwine closely with hers:) Closing her eyes, she could feel the caress of the wind and hear the unnatural stillness of the forest for miles on end. But her senses were immediately honed on the steady beat of the human’s heart, even in the cool strong arms of her maker, all she could focus upon was the tightening pangs of hunger rolling through her body. 

With a maker’s command to his voice, Godric spoke firmly, “You will not feed on a human without my express permission and guidance, in any event where u are surrounded by humans and tempted to feed you will keep a reasonable distance from the human and then you will immediately call for me through our bond.” 

“Yes maker,” the words left her lips before she could even understand the significance of what she had spoken. And as the confusion marred her face, Godric spoke, “We will discuss terms after I see you are properly fed, now for our first lesson I will teach u how to locate the vein and properly feed.”

“Unfortunately for you my childe, those lessons will be far and few in between this first century, as mainstreaming and the media has made it nearly impossible for newborns to freely feed on humans.” He brought the wrist of the compelled human forward and positioned himself right behind Mastani ensuring to keep his left arm wrapped snugly around her waist out of protective instincts. Mastani could do nothing but remain where her maker commanded her. Godric brought his mouth to her ear and spoke lowly but not quite a whisper “We will start at the wrist, the flow of the blood comes slowly and it takes a great deal of effort for a vampire to drain a human from here.” “I will teach you another time to listen to the heart as you feed, for now, let me guide you.” Godric then guided her fangs towards the human wrist, “Now you will bite right here and remove your fangs before u begin to truly digest the blood.”

Godric had always prided himself in being able to properly satisfy the needs of his progeny, no matter how sexual or vengeful they were. As he had done for Eric he would do for his daughter. So Godric did nothing but watch as the newborn surged forward and sank her fangs into the human’s wrist, who could do nothing but scream and writhe in absolute agony. Now he couldn’t help but reminisce on the early days he spent teaching and guiding a newborn Eric. At those thoughts sadness and guilt pang within him as he thought back to that final night in Dallas. He certainly owed his Viking an apology. As the beats of the human heart began to dim, Godric sprung into action.

Mastani moaned in pleasure as the warm blood flooded into her mouth, igniting sparks of arousal as the blood seeped into her limbs and brought colour to her cheeks. Her maker’s voice, whispering incentives into her ears, leading her out of the blood daze as she petulantly release her grip upon the human. Godric, watched on as his childe mouth formed into a stubborn pout, the beginnings of a complaint upon her lips Godric couldn’t resist as he swept in and left a light peck upon them. Chuckling to himself as her face flushed red and the complaint turned into flustered nonsensical noises. Being the tease he brought her into his embrace and left another kiss upon her exposed shoulder. Only stopping himself from going further as the human released pained groans whilst attempting to stop the bleeding wound. Irritation ignited within as he harshly dragged the human woman closer, her back now pressed against his front, Mastani looking on in open desire as he sunk his own fangs into the human’s neck. The human continued to cry but he paid her no bother, he had a lesson to continue. Besides she allowed no mercy to her sister and he would allow none to her. Releasing his fangs from her neck, he beckoned Mastani forward to allow her to continue her meal. Gently guiding her to take slow gulps of blood as he listened intently to the human’s heart as he wanted the human to live and suffer. 

At her maker’s command Mastani once again released her hold. This time she no longer felt the pangs of pain but rather a wave of tiredness flooded through her. She watched on as Godric commanded the human to return to her housing, rest, eat and remain there until Godric returned for her. Satisfied with his glamour, Godric turned his attention towards his progeny and long 3 hours of flying to Louisiana tonight but first a bath for his young one was in order.

**************************************************************************************************************

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Hi guys, the next chapter I plan to put up will be from the perspective of our OC. A little background on her human life and the events leading to her death. This will be a very short series, no more than six chapters at the very least. Also thank you all for sticking around so long for an update, university and life has really been a mess this past year. Also with me re-watching true blood and falling down the Eric Northman rabbit hole once again, don’t be surprised to find his scenes in a more risque manner. Also I wrote this story with a brown girl as oc because there is barely any true blood fanfic out there with a brown oc.

P.S If u couldn’t tell I’m so excited to build the cutest sibling relationship between the two.

[emofairyprincessofarkansas]

Rain Washes the Blood Away

TITLE: Rain Washes the Blood Away PAIRING: Godric / OC RATING: T CHAPTER: One-shot SUMMARY: Two people take refuge in a barn from the rain, except one of them isn't exactly human.

[A/N - Written for @autumnleaves1991-blog's "Writer Wednesday". This week (since the picture was so spooky looking), I decided to delve into the supernatural by writing for Godric from True Blood instead of a Pedro character.]

Gwendolyn ran through the woods.

It was dark and the rain was doing nothing for visibility.

Finally, she spotted a barn and she ran inside.

There was a lamp full of burning oil, but there didn’t look to be any inhabitants. Maybe they’d accidentally left it burning.

Gwendolyn looked out the window of the barn, checking for her attacker. She’d been walking home from the village church when a man had appeared out of the shadows and started pulling at her dress. She took off into the woods to escape him.

Once Gwendolyn was sure she was safe, she turned to look around the barn. It looked abandoned for the most part, but there was a bed of hay in the loft. Gwendolyn stared at it for a moment and it rustled. Someone was in here with her!

“Hello? I know you’re there!”

Something in the shadows moved.

Finally, a man emerged. He was shirtless and only had on a pair of linen pants. The light from the oil lamp bounced off his pale skin. He was covered in markings, bands circling each bicep and one that looked like a necklace.

“Who…who are you?” Gwendolyn asked.

He cocked his head to the side as though he didn’t understand what she was saying.

“Are you here to shelter from the rain as well?” Gwendolyn pulled off her shawl, leaving her neck and arms bear. She set it next to the oil lamp to dry. “You must be freezing.”

She walked over to him and gently took his hands in hers. Gwendolyn gasped. “You’re cold as ice! Come closer to the lamp and warm your hands.”

They walked over to the lamp and she held his hands out.

“Why were you out in the rain?” he finally asked her. His voice was a nice baritone and he had an accent she couldn’t place.

“I was walking home from church.”

The man chuckled.

“I’m sorry, is that funny to you?”

“I meant no offense.”

“What about you? Why were you out in the rain?”

“I am traveling.”

“Oh? Traveling where?”

“To see my son.”

Gwendolyn looked him over.

He couldn’t have been over 25 years old. There was a possibility he was married, but he wore no ring. And why would he be out in the wilderness without proper clothes?

“You have a son?”

The man smiled. “Yes, Erik.” The man went quiet after that. Perhaps his family was a sore subject. Maybe he wasn’t with his son’s mother anymore. “I haven’t asked your name,” the man said.

Gwendolyn blushed. “Um, no. You haven’t. It’s Gwendolyn.”

“Gwendolyn. My name is Godric.”

“Godric? That’s an odd name for these parts.”

Godric chuckled. “I am not from around here. I come from a place far away.”

They sat there quietly, listening to the rain.

Godric moved closer to her. Her warm body and blood called to him. When she blushed, her scent hit him like a train and he wanted to bite into the soft flesh of her neck.

The rain eventually let up and Gwendolyn picked up her shawl. “Well it was very nice speaking to you, Godric.”

“You as well, Gwendolyn.” Gwendolyn walked over to the barn door and opened it. She started down the road when she heard, “There you are!”

Gwendolyn cried out as the man from earlier grabbed her. “Let me go!”

“You and I are gonna have some fun first.”

“I believe the lady asked you to let her go,” Godric said, suddenly appearing out of nowhere.

The man pulled a knife and held it to Gwendolyn’s throat. “Come any closer and she dies.”

Godric smirked. “I think you’ll find you’ll be the one dying.”

In a second, the man was on the ground with Godric standing over him. “What are you?”

“Death.” Godric descended on the man, fangs biting into his neck. When Godric stood up, blood was dripping down his chin. He turned to Gwendolyn who was standing there. “I apologize for you having to witness that.”

“No, no. It’s…okay.” Gwendolyn walked up to him. She took off her shawl and dipped it in a puddle by their feet before lifting it to Godric’s face. She gently cleaned the blood off his chin and neck, before wrapping it around his shoulders.

“You are not scared of me,” Godric said.

“How could I be? You saved me from being attacked or worse.” Gwendolyn was unlike any human he had ever met. She watched him rip a man’s throat out with his teeth and then cleaned the blood from his face. Normally a human would run away from him screaming, but she didn’t. She stayed.

Taglist: @clydesducktape

[mermaidsimagines]

Imagine being a former queen during the Egyptian civilization, but being turned by Godric and meeting Eric Northman many years later and becoming his wife.

[best-imagines]