#vampire!sherlock

[cardierreh15]

When Love Finds a way

I do not give anyone permission to copy or repost my work.

Warnings 18+: Blood , Nudity (Yes, Naked Henry) , Death .

Pairings: Henry Cavill(Drake/Dracula) x Mia/Misty(Black!plus size female)

Description: Dracula & Misty run into one another at the local coffee shop. Could it be… destiny?

Song: No Sunshine by Bill Withers , lovely (instrumental) by Billie Eilish & Khalid .

Word count: 3.6K

(Anything in italics are lyrics. Anything Bold & italics are Dracula’s thoughts)

Two

Aint no sunshine when she's gone. It's not warm when she's away. Ain't no sunshine when she's gone; she's always gone too long, anytime, she goes away.

The thunder roared outside, rattling the skylights and window patio doors. The sound didn’t take him out of his trance though.

Drake had a wooden brush clenched between his teeth as his left hand fingered and teased the paint, and used his right hand to push strokes across the canvas with his brush.

He pulled the brush from between his teeth and dipped it in the white to emphasize the glare in the honey brown. He then stood up from the wooden stool, hovering over his work of art.

Drake was adorned with splattered and smeared paint. He had a chiseled, godly frame. Muscular back, broad shoulders, big arms, tight abdomen and chest that donned thick curly hairs. He himself looked like a masterpiece.

So detailed down to the tiny patterns in her beautiful hazel irises; were the eyes of his beloved, Mia.

The lightning from outside brightened up the room around them, revealing over more than a dozen portraits of Mia. Most of them consisted of her in the color yellow or pink.

Others were just her body parts. Her lips, her naked waist and hips, her naked back with her shoulders and untamed curls cascading down her back. His personal favorite, her fingers interlocking with his; differentiating the sizes of their palms.

‘My dear Mia. Oh you’d be disappointed with how I use my time.’ He chuckled aloud as he wiped his cheek with the back of his wrist, smearing paint against his cheekbone.

And then he found himself staring into the large lively eyes he’d created. Getting lost in them as if she were still physically here.

***

Only darkness everyday, ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone. This house just ain’t no home, anytime she goes away.

He walked as his nose flared; chin trembling as he held his deceased love in his arms tightly. Her blood stained his white blouse. What use to run and pump warmth and life into her, ran cold and endless. His hands, forearms and his cheeks were covered in it.

The scent of her used to bring him a joy like no other, and now, seeing her defiled like this. Knowing the reason why her precious soul was taken, it sickened him.

He walked until he stopped at the entrance of a village. Hesitantly, he looked down at her before looking back ahead of him. ‘Help! Someone help! Someone help please!’ He screamed, and begged. His eyes searched for anyone that could help; some folk came peeking out of their doors, but only a few had the guts to rush over towards the mysterious man. Drake dropped weakly to his knees, but he never let go of his love.

‘What’s happened?!’ One of the onlookers came running over, seemingly looking to help at first.

‘S-she’s been stabbed…’ Drake stuttered, still not able to make sense of what’s happening, he looked up at the stranger before him. He was a short, bald, heavy set older man; he had to be the leader around here.

He was startled by Drake’s bright red eyes and took a step back. “Devil!” The man cried frighteningly, his eyes wide as saucers, a sharp pain shot through the man's heart. He clutched his chest. Others started to murmur, the men in the town pushed their children and wives back into the house as they found pointed objects.

Drake sighed heavily, jaws clinched in agitation; he inhaled deeply trying his best to calm his rage. ‘Listen, I mean no harm, ok? My wife— they killed my wife. Burned down my home. Killed my stock and cattle. I just need… I need some help… just to clean my wife and get her buried…’

“Begawn demon!” One man shouted with a large pickaxe in his hands, another man stepped forward, a cold stare in his eyes.

“We’re good Christian you heathen, if that woman was with you, we’ll then she’s better off dead. Maybe God will forgive her.” The man shook his head, his fingers wrapped around his weapon tightly, these people were surely blinded by their belief in God to think they could take on someone of Drake’s nature. He couldn’t believe the words that just came from this imbecile’s crusty lips.

“Are you ‘too good Christian’ to help your own?! How dare you, hypocrites.” He hissed, bright crimson blood pooled at his eyes, and only a single tear fell down his pale skin. ‘She believed in your God!’ He exclaimed with so much venom behind the word, ‘The same God whose brought you nothing but pain, death, illness and sorrow! Yet, she still believed in him! Just like the rest of you! Was she not good?!’

The crowd grew quiet. Only the sounds of the night could be heard around he and the crowd that surrounded him defensively. Bullfrogs croaked, Crickets chirped and beetles flapped their heavy wings.

As soon as Drake felt he was about to lose hope and his cool, someone spoke up in the crowd, ‘And what do we get if we aid you?!’

He searched the crowd as a woman walked forward. She had black thick and curly hair, her skin was brown and rich like the Earth’s soil. She wore trousers and a slightly stretched out blouse. It appeared to be somewhat of an off duty knight. Her clothes weren’t as damaged and raggedy as everyone else’s.

‘I-‘ he pressed his lips together. ‘Whatever it is that you want. I have no use of any more of my riches… I don’t plan on living on without her.’ Drake looked down at Mia once more. He wasn’t sure how many more tears he could shed. But he wasn’t ready to stop either.

‘Hmph… you’d save me the time then… c’mon now then.’ The pretty woman turned on the toes of her boots and walked back through the crowd; shoving people out of the way. Get out my way! What you lookin’ at?!

Drake felt his slow beating heart stiffen almost in his chest. He was relieved that someone was willing to help. So he stood up to his feet, adjusting Mia in his arms.

***

Drake placed Mia’s lifeless body on the cot. He knew this was probably the last time he’d see her. So he stared at her for as long as he possibly could. He had to take in every feature, knowing that it would be his last

The woman folded her arms across her chest, her head falling to the side.

‘What happened?’

He sat there for a moment before blinking away and looking over at the woman behind him. He felt his chest twist, tears filled his eyes once again before he just let out a shuddered sigh. ‘The Church… found out my hide away. Th-they said she’d been followed. She’d come to see me in the morning. We’d spend the day together,’ he scoffed and swallowed his sticky saliva before continuing. ‘She was the only reason I ever became a morning person… I’d risk burning myself countless times just to be with her and th—‘ his voice was strained; drowned in own tears and despair.

And when Drake had enough strength to speak, darkness reflected in his words as if they looked into a mirror, ‘They took her. from. me!’

The woman watched in silence, studying the picture before her. ‘How long have you and her been—together?’ She asked.

‘A little over a year and a half… she was the reason why I never went back into hunting and killing,’ he looked back at her. His eyes were so sad and lifeless. It almost seem unreal, like sad painting. ‘Because of her, I cherished human life. I saw the potential in your lives. So I went without drinking human blood for that duration.’

Her eyebrows tugged into one, ‘If you weren’t drinking humans then what—‘

‘Animals… particularly moose. Boar. Sometimes bear— anything I could get my hands on really.’

‘M-my God…’ The woman was in disbelief! Could he have been that in love to completely risk his livelihood?

Everyone deserved to love, and perhaps if you are capable of loving, you’re capable of changing. She thought to herself.

‘And so they call…’ he scoffed, his head falling forward; shaking side to side.

‘I don’t think you’re the vampire they are after!’ Drake didn’t say anything, he didn’t much care. Instead, he just grabbed Mia’s hand and placed his cold lips against her cold flesh. He’d just hoped for a small sign of life from her. But he was disappointed once more when reality set in by the second.

The sound of her heeled boots quickly clicked across the wooden floor. ‘Look. I ain’t too keen with working with your kind,’ she said with a slight bitterness, ‘But if I were in your position… I’d do whatever it is that I needed to be done so that my partner gets the justice they deserve…’

Dracula looked up at her with wet eyes. He knew what her suggestion was.

‘That’s just me though…’ she threw up her hands In defense.

He stood to his feet slowly, his thick brows tugging into one,‘Are you suggesting—‘

‘THAT’S… just me now…’ she took a step closer to him, low enough for him to hear, ‘Do what you must. Besides, these folk could use some protectin’ roun’ here,’ She looked over at his wife for a second, ‘She shall be in tip top shape upon your return. And when you get back… we can perhaps discuss a partnership.’ She then stepped back and jerked her head towards the door. ‘Gone head nah. Before I change my mind!’

Dracula gave the woman a gentle nod before turning back to his love, ‘She’ll— she’ll take care of you— my love.’ He then placed his bloodied hand on top of hers.

His chin trembled as he stared at his wife’s corpse. Even in death, she was breathtaking.

‘I’m sorry… I’m so sorry Mia. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you what you wanted.’ He sniffed, wiping his tears before letting out a shaky sigh, ‘I love you… And I’m gonna make this right.’

Dracula pushed her hair behind her ear. ‘Until we meet again my love…’

He looked back over at the woman, darkness clouding his eyes, ‘How far is the Church’s village?’

‘On horseback? About a day’s ride… the sun could be quite dangerous for someone like you.’

Drake pressed his lips together, knowing what he’d have to do to get there faster. ‘Indeed… I must leave,’ he walked towards the wooden door.

‘I never caught your name. I-I want to thank you.’

The woman placed her hands on her widened hips and a smirk curled on her lips, ‘No need to thank me,’ she said raising her hand in protest, ‘Make it back alive and I’ll tell you everything.’

***

A loud thunder clap shook him out of his own head. A smirk curled on his lips slowly, ‘I know… I’m goin’, I’m goin’… I just wanted to take the time to admire you for a bit longer…’

A soft low thunder rumbled, causing his apartment to shake a little.

‘I miss you too…’ he sighed softly.

Shortly after, he gathered his brushes and carried them to the sink and washed them carefully. Afterwards, he set them on a towel to dry.

Before leaving his “showcase” room, he took one more good look at her, ‘Good Night Mia. I love you.’ And he shut the door behind him.

***

Drake stood beneath the hot shower; allowing the water to beat down on his head and the rest of his messy body. He loved these kinds of nights. Since his body didn’t generate it’s own sweat or neither did he get funky, he’d somehow subconsciously yet— perhaps on purpose, smear himself up in paint so he could shower. It was the only thing that reminded him of her. The warmth of her pretty brown skin and how she’d hold him close.

Otherwise, he truly had no other excuse to be in the shower.

Lifting his head up, he ran his fingers through his hair; pushing it back out of his face. He then reached over for his washcloth, and liquid soap. Once he lathered it up, he rubbed those smooth suds into his skin and scrubbed off whatever paint that was left on his body.

Afterwards, he sat in the shower until the water ran cold. He got out and got dressed in something modest and simple. It was still raining outside, and he would’ve hated for his suits to have gotten wet.

He’d dressed in a cotton light gray long sleeved shirt. It had 3 buttons at the chest. He left only one open. Then, he pulled on some briefs and some dark denim jeans and some brown boots.

Drake dried his thick black hair with a towel and then blow dried it. His locks fell wavy and soft against his head.

Once he was done getting dressed, he grabbed his sketchbook, his wallet and keys. Then, he left.

This was the only time Dracula really enjoyed the outdoors in the daytime. The sky had to be dark with clouds and/or pouring down raining. He could smell and feel how refreshed Mother Earth felt when it did. As if the rain was cleansing everything around him.

He also found it funny when unprepared humans would just cover their heads with newspapers or their hands trying to get to cover. Such clumsy creatures.

Closing down his umbrella, he walked inside of a coffee shop. The smell of freshly brewed coffee made love to his senses and caused a slight drool to pool in his mouth.

Coffee was Dracula’s guilty pleasure. Human food was disgusting. Anything processed, would taste as if he were biting into the metal or plastic that kept them fresh. Or, he’d taste the hormones and the particles. If he had to eat human food just to blend in, he’d simply throw it up later. But coffee, he liked his Americano. No sugar. No cream. Just— beans and hot water.

The baristas shouted, desynchronized “Heeey!” “Drake!” “Yooo!”

They were all very happy to see him. After all, it had been quite some time since he’d been down here.

A toothy grin curled on his lips as he placed his wet umbrella up against his booth and placed his book down on the table. ‘Shannon, Luis, Jang. How are all of you?’ Then he walked up to the counter.

‘We’re holding up… we’ve missed ya down here. We were starting to think you moved away or sumn!’ Jang said with a slight smirk.

‘Yeah! Shannon was starting to get sad!’ Laughed Luis.

‘Hey!’ Shannon laughed and smacked Luis on the arm, ‘You’re gonna get enough of telling my business! How are you, D?’

Dracula had been coming to the local coffee shop for about 10 years now. Way before his friend’s arrival. The owners, Lee and Jennifer, had always been kind to him and welcoming. Introducing him to their own families and friends. Having him over for dinner some nights.

Until one night they’d suffered greatly when half of the shop burned down. Drake had heard about this terrible incident and had written them an anonymous check for $40K for repairs. Til this day, the couple hadn’t had a single clue who’d gifted them with something so life changing. And it were to stay that way.

‘I thought I asked you to call me Drake?’ He smirked, pulling out his wallet.

‘I know. But I think D fits you best,’ the woman giggled, ‘The Usual today?’

‘Mmhmm,’ he nodded before placing the $20 bill in her hand. ‘Could you bring it to my booth?’

‘Sure. Anything for my—‘ Shannon paused for a second, getting lost in those bright crimson eyes. Sure she had a crush before, but it had only gotten extreme. ‘Main. Man.’ And a slow smile curled on her lips.

Dracula returned the smile and nodded once, ‘Thank you, Shan.’ And he turned away to walk to his booth.

As soon as he sat down, he opened up his book full of sketches. Some pages were of flowers, mountains and rivers, oceans and the sky. But others were of people he’d come across in his life. But mostly, Mia.

Strangely enough though, he didn’t feel like drawing her today. Technically.

He’d quickly got started on a face. Allowing just his hand and mind to come together; not really thinking.

‘One Americano.’ Shannon said softly with a smile, placing the large mug down on the porcelain dessert plate. ‘Thank you, Shannon. It smells delightful.’ He smiled looking up at her.

‘Anytime.’ She sighed softly before pulling her eyes away to look at his sketch. ‘What ya workin’ on?’

Dracula looked back down at the large sheet of paper. In just a minute’s time he’d already drawn and detailed an eye and a nose. ‘Nothing special just— sketching.’

‘Nice! You’re really talented!’ Shannon jumped when the bell chimed over the door.

He instantly went stiff at her scent. ‘Misty! Hi, welcome back!’ Shannon greeted her with a smile, ‘I have to get back to work. Have fun.’ She said, placing her dainty hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Drake inhaled deeply, as her heart beat seem to thud louder and louder in his ears. The smell of flowers just kept tickling at his nose. It was intoxicating! He was drawing but he couldn’t focus! All that he could see embedded in his brain was her gorgeous smile, her big, thick curly hair, her hazel eyes.

This is probably the closest he’s ever been to drowning. All until,

‘Drake?’

‘Huh?’ He lifted his head quickly.

She was standing there with a sweet yet, puzzled look on her face. Oh she was to die for.

‘I didn’t know you came to this coffee shop!’

‘Misty! Hi! Oh, yeah—‘ he chuckled as his eyes roamed over her body once. The perfect frame. Voluptuous breasts, a tummy, wide hips and thick thighs. ‘I-I know the owners. Been coming here for a few years now.’

‘That’s cool! Hey, do you mind if I join you? I just have a few more minutes to kill before I have to head back to work.’

Of course I mind. You’re only the love of my life’s doppelgänger! I don’t even know what to say or do right now.

‘No, please!’ Lying bastard.

Misty sat down in front of him with a gentle smile on her lips. She watched him take a sip of his coffee first before he went back to sketching upon the white sheet. ‘You draw too? What are you working on?’ She asked before sipping out of her straw.

Drake swallowed his spit as he scribbled, ‘Just some random… portrait.’

‘Hmm! It’s pretty. You take commissions?’

‘Commissions?’ He asked a bit confused, ‘Like pay? No. I do this for fun.’

Misty smirked, adjusting herself in her seat before folding her arms on top of the wooden table, ‘So, if I asked you to do one for me… you’d do it?’

Dracula looked up at her, sizing her face before his eyes dropped to her neck, then her chest. Then, he looked back up into her eyes, ‘If you’d ask me…’

She just stared at him and he just stared at her. Misty finally looked away with a giggle, ‘I-I couldn’t ask that of you. Supplies are getting more and more expensive by the day and art takes time and patience. I couldn’t do that. I’d have to pay you—‘

‘I wouldn’t have it…’ he interrupted. ‘I have enough…’ he paused for a second, ‘I don’t mind.’

She raised a brow, sitting back into her seat. ‘You are stubborn… well at least let me take you out? What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?’ She asked with a smile.

He chuckled as he continued to sketch, ‘You’re asking a complete stranger out on a date? I could be a murderer.’

‘Yeah, you could be. But how would I know if I don’t try?’

You’re just like her… in so many ways.

Drake shook his head as his smirk remained on his face, ‘I work… I’m free after 7pm.’

‘Hmm.. alright. Well, do you have a phone? So I can plug my number in?’

A phone. Dracula was never the type to keep friends so he never thought getting a phone was a logical investment for him. ‘I don’t.’

‘No phone? In the 21st century? Well, I’d say you like to live your life on the edge! What if you were to ever be in danger?!’ She sounded concerned.

Danger? Ha, oh darling, I am the danger.

Drake chuckled and shrugged, ‘Then if it’s my time to go.. it’s my time to go. We didn’t—‘ he bit his tongue and stopped once again. He was getting way too comfortable. ‘I don’t need one.’

Misty took a sip of her ice coffee and shook her head, ‘Well, Mr. “I’m too righteous” for a phone. You should invest in one.’

‘Why?’

‘Cause how would I call you?’

Damn… she’s smooth.

Drake pressed his lips together. He swallowed his spit, feeling as if there was a UV light burning in the pit of his stomach. She had no idea of the chokehold she had on him at this moment. ‘I’ll think about it.’ He said before going back to his sketch.

‘Alright. Well, just,’ she stood up from her seat and picked up her drink, ‘Meet me back here tomorrow evening. 7:45pm.’

He looked up at her as a slow smile curled on his lips, ‘Sure.’

‘I gotta head back now. See you then.’ She said before walking towards the door.

‘Yeah,’ he said before she walked out of the door. ‘See ya.’

Turning back to his sketch before his, he hadn’t even realized he had already worked on her full lips.

‘Dammit.’ He’d cursed.

[sky-is-the-limit]

"Are you straight?"

The media I consume on a daily basis:

[ineedhjalp]

oh honey i have rewatching capabilities you couldn’t dream of

[inkyself]

How you people watch a show but are not in the fandom is wild to me, like wdym you can consume a piece of media without it consuming yourself? You guys don’t obsess to the point of madness over those fictional people? Just me?

[geralts-yenn]

Baaaaabe! Why do you have to make this series so damn good?

As I am constantly begging for spoilers, I already knew what was to come, but it was such a pleasure to actually read how you approached the topic.

Sherlock is such a cutie, my heart melts every time I read about him. I loved every word of their long overdue conversation. Sherlock's vulnerability hits me right in the feels, and I am so glad that reader is so understanding, even asking if she ever overstepped any boundaries. They are so fucking cute together.

I have to admit, my favorite scene in the chapter is yet again the one you made me laugh out loud (and included Mikey):

“I’m glad that wasn’t necessary,” Sherlock chuckled. “Subtlety is not a widely available resource in this household.” “I got into the shower with you and ambushed you with ‘hey, why aren’t you boning me?’” What point you were trying to make, you weren’t entirely sure, either, but at least you made Mike laugh so hard he spit his water across the table.

And then August..... aakdjalsdjaldjgdl

This man vampire could train me all the way he wants to. Especially when he's treating me with beautiful gifts (even when he bought them for selfish reasons)

Then you leave me all hot and bothered and dare to end with putting a tied up Mike into my head???

So Mike better be in trouble because I want to explore that further 😁

Part 21

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 20 🟣 Part 22

A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August and Sherlock

Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...

Warnings: 18+, not technically smut but there's a BDSM training session involved, D/s dynamic, and a whole lot of feelings.

Word count: 3k

Bingo: Vulnerability (you can find the bingo masterlist here)

A/N: ALRIGHT. I owe one of you a 'congratulations' because you were right! I sincerely hope no one is disappointed (I, for one, love what happens in this chapter — or perhaps rather... what doesn't... Either way, this is how it's gonna be.) This is also my second @henrycavillbingo entry; Vulnerability!

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @summersong69 @ellethespaceunicorn @mis-lil-red @sillyrabbit81 @livisss @itsrubberbisquit @ktficworld @proud-aroace-beastie

You carefully snuck into the bathroom when you heard the water turn on. It was pointless, of course, because he’d already heard you, but still.

“Hello, darling,” he greeted you as soon as you set foot in the room, and you muttered some form of a hello back.

“I, eh…” You what? Were you going to come up with some lame excuse? Was that necessary? He’d just shower with vampire-speed if you told him you wanted to take a shower, too… Fuck it. “Can I join you?”

Sherlock looked at you and nodded. “Of course.”

Immediately, you stripped and stepped into the shower, where he pulled you into his arms. With your head on his shoulder and his strong arms around you, everything felt so incredibly alright that you almost forgot why you were there. And that was because despite the fact you were in the shower with him, naked as can be, and despite the passionate kiss he gave you, his hands remained on your waist, or your back, or you hip, but never somewhere else…

“Sherlock, why haven’t we had sex?” you blurted out before you could convince yourself that you didn’t need to have this conversation.

“Because I have no desire to have sex with you,” he replied plainly. His answer made your jaw drop. What did he mean, ‘he didn’t want to’?

“I knew it…” Insecurities took root in your brain — or rather, dug their roots deeper into the fibers of your existence. “You’re not attracted to me.”

“Oh dear,” Sherlock said, shaking his head and letting out an exasperated sigh, “if ever there was a time to dust off the word ‘balderdash’, now would be it.”

“And that means…” Not everyone was well-versed in nonsensical British expressions… You rolled your eyes.

“Hogwash, poppycock, complete and utter bollocks — pardon my French.” Sherlock smiled at your increasingly confused expression. “Nonsense,” he finally clarified, stroking a bit of your hair off your cheek. “I am romantically attracted to you,” he continued, “and I find you very beautiful. I crave physical intimacy with you… I’ll even admit your body is absolutely gorgeous and I completely understand why anyone would find themselves quite distracted by it.”

“But none of that makes you want to screw me?” you said sarcastically.

“Darling, it’s not just you,” he sighed apologetically. “I am not sexually attracted to anyone.”

Oh. Wait… “So, what? You’re ace?” you asked without giving it much thought.

Sherlock shrugged. “I suppose that might be an applicable term, yes,” he said plainly. “We could, though. You know… If you really wanted to.”

“But you prefer not to?”

“I’m afraid I’m horribly indifferent,” he admitted, a slight hint of embarrassment to his voice.

“Then it’s not happening, Sherlock,” you said, taking his face in your hands and lifting it so you could meet his gaze. A sudden realization struck you. “Are you comfortable with this?” You clarified the comment with a quick gesture at your naked bodies.

“Oh, absolutely, darling,” he chuckled. “I quite enjoy how soft you are.” His hands trailed lightly over your sides, and you sighed as you leaned into him.

“Can we continue this conversation in bed?” you asked, your heart bursting with joy when he agreed.

“You do enjoy kissing me, don’t you?” you asked a while later. “Because if you don’t…”

“Darling, I’m nine centuries old. Do you really think you could make me do something I didn’t want to do?” That made sense…

“I just hate to think I ever made you feel uncomfortable,” you whispered.

“Not in the slightest, my love,” he reassured you. “I’m sorry I made you wait for something that wasn’t going to happen. The others told me repeatedly to talk to you, but I… I was scared.”

You didn’t have to ask what he was scared of; the pain in his eyes said it all.

“Nine centuries of abuse, I’m guessing?”

He let out a sarcastic chuckle. “Especially from Charles,” he sneered. “The Duke of Suffolk really couldn’t keep his hands off women. Not his own and not others’. He’s learned some manners now, but he was horrible about it. I doubt he understands, even now, but he accepts me.” He raised his eyebrows at you, morphing his expression into a painful question. “Do you?”

“I, Sherlock,” you said slowly while snuggling closer to his chest, “love you. Dearly. With all my heart, and soul, and I’d say my body, too, but as we’ve established, that won’t be necessary.”

He laughed — this time, it was a genuine laugh — and pulled you close, dragging your leg over his hips.

“Don’t we need to worry about fluids accidentally getting places?” you asked carefully. There was a reason you were strictly opposed to this position with the others while naked.

“I have no desire to sire offspring,” Sherlock chuckled. “I have been sterile since the early 1940’s.”

“Wha— if you never… then why?”

“Just because I prefer not to, doesn’t mean I have never. And the thought of getting someone pregnant — even, or rather, especially accidentally — makes me break out in hives, darling,” he laughed. That made an awful lot of sense, actually. “Now that we’re on the subject; I couldn’t help but overhear August mention to Walter that you were considering…”

Was he talking birth control with you? He was talking birth control with you! It only took you a moment to decide whether or not you were comfortable with that; you were. You very much were.

“Are you okay with having this conversation with me? I can understand if you’d rather speak to your doctor,” he noted. It wasn’t an accusation, just a professional observation. As professional as ‘naked cuddling’ would allow for, anyway.

“Oh, no. It’s fine, really!” You had just never been in a relationship before where talking so openly about these topics was an option… “I just want something I don’t have to think about once it’s in, but… I was just scared of the pain. Mike suggested that August could come with me…”

“I suggested they… we… split the costs.”

Oh. Wow. You were on the verge of saying it wouldn’t be necessary, but the reality of it was that it would be a big help. Besides; they were getting the benefits of it as well. Why shouldn’t they chip in?

“That would be wonderful,” you said after taking a few deep breaths.

“Did she just agree to that? Just… like that?” August appeared in the room, and you pulled the covers up a little higher — fully expecting a remark on how you weren’t hiding anything he hadn’t seen before. It didn’t come.

“I told you she would likely take it better coming from me,” Sherlock said with a grin on his face. Oh, so they’d been scheming behind your back? That didn’t bother you nearly as much as you knew it should, and about 90% of the reason for that was… well, they were looking at you right now, with their gorgeous blue eyes.

August cleared his throat after staring at you for what should have been an uncomfortably long time; “So, you two finally talked it over, huh? Good. Dinner is ready in about twenty minutes.”

“Why did none of you just tell me?” you yelled at Mike, Walter and August after finding out they all knew about Sherlock’s asexuality.

“Not our story to tell, princess.” August shrugged.

“Besides, wouldn’t you have at least been a little mad that he hadn’t talked to you himself?” Mike added before shoveling way too much rice into his mouth.

“We would have forced the two of you to talk eventually,” Marshall continued, not bothering to remember what he’d no doubt once been taught about speaking with a full mouth. “And sooner rather than later, too. It got really annoying after a while.”

“I’m glad that wasn’t necessary,” Sherlock chuckled. “Subtlety is not a widely available resource in this household.”

“I got into the shower with you and ambushed you with ‘hey, why aren’t you boning me?’” What point you were trying to make, you weren’t entirely sure, either, but at least you made Mike laugh so hard he spit his water across the table.

“I never said you are any better,” Sherlock reminded you. “But I’d still rather avoid the three of them plotting a sensitive conversation.”

“It was quite a nice conversation,” you said with a gentle smile.

“I take it she’s staying with you tonight?” August asked kindly, nodding understandingly when Sherlock confirmed that he would very much appreciate that. “I would very much like to borrow her after dinner, in that case.” August had a habit of talking to you like you weren’t there, and for the strangest reason, that didn’t bother you at all — not even when Sherlock nodded in response.

“As long as I get her back in one piece and… at least relatively clean, please?” Two showers a day wasn’t always an excessive luxury when you regularly got dicked down by three different men.

“There’s a surprise on my bed for you, princess,” August muttered in your ear after dinner was done and he was standing at the sink, scraping food scraps into the garbage disposal. “I’ll join you when I finish up with the dishes. Go.” A gentle pat on your ass sent you on your way.

“He’s got good taste. I took a peek,” Walter broke in when you sifted through the contents of the first of several bags, scanning the French labels and gently letting your fingers trail the delicate fabrics — most of it was lace, and all of it was see-through.

“I don’t give a fuck about good taste,” you grumbled — as far as was possible in your thoughts, “this must have cost a fortune! I can’t accept this!”

“Can’t? Or won’t?” Oh, fuck him and his logic! “Do you think he’d bankrupt himself to make you look pretty?”

“That’s not the point! I—”

“Marshall, that’s enough.” August. Right behind you. You hadn’t even noticed that you’d sunk to your knees in front of the bed, and now August was standing right behind you.

He kneeled behind you and pulled you back against his chest. “Why is my pretty princess feeling so… uncomfortable and insecure?”

“This is too much, August, I—”

“Shh,” he whispered, raising a hand to your mouth to keep you from talking. “I could gag you. And I will, if necessary.” Curse him and the fact that there was no need for him to ask if you would be okay with that, because he could feel the exact way the suggestion turned your insides to mush and made your head spin.

“I decide when and how I spoil you, princess,” he said as he pulled you backwards into his lap, “not you.”

He kissed your neck just below your ear in such a way that it drew a long moan from you.

“Now, you’re going to try these on — I know they’ll fit, so I took off the tags. There’s no returning any of them, so just accept the gift already,” he said before trailing his tongue down your neck. You writhed in his lap, barely able to suppress a chuckle when you felt his erection beneath your ass.

“You like that, don’t you? Knowing I get hard for you?” He rolled his hips against your backside for a moment, before disappearing from underneath you and appearing again on the edge of his bed, leaving you kneeling before him.

“Now that’s a sight for sore eyes,” he said with an impossible smirk that made you want to claw it off his face.

He made you show him every set he’d bought you, each one more beautiful than the last, and you couldn’t help but admit to yourself — and indirectly to him, and Marshall and Mikey — that you’d missed this.

Mike wanted titties, and therefore eliminated everything that stood between him and his goal at his earliest convenience, and it was nice to have a man lust after you in something pretty for a change. Even if that ‘something pretty’ was a few scraps of needlessly expensive lace and some underwire. Something told you Marshall would be more appreciative of these as well. He’d already let you know he thought August had good taste… that meant he’d also like these, right?

“Last one,” August said with a dirty grin when he handed you a tiny black lace contraption that took you some time to even figure out before you could begin to put it on.

“You can’t be serious,” you muttered under your breath as you wrangled straps and cups and other elements into position. And after all that effort, you were still very decidedly mostly fucking naked.

“You don’t like it?” August pouted as he got up from his bed and walked over to where you were standing, staring at yourself in the mirror. He wrapped his arms around you from behind and rubbed his very obvious bulge against your ass. “It’s my personal favorite.”

“Putting this on is a nightmare, taking it off… you’ll just rip it.” It was a weak protest — you knew it, he knew it. Marshall knew it, even though maybe he wasn’t strictly supposed to. And August was about to point it out, too.

“I don’t have to take it off, princess.” No. He didn’t. The quarter cups left your nipples exposed — maybe even Mike would enjoy this particular number — and the damn thing was ehm… ouvert. Which was — as everyone knew — French for ‘oh, hello, my pussy is on full display in this thing’.

“Now,” he said in a tone that immediately turned your knees to jelly, “Mike told me that you don’t shy away from a good spanking, and I’m in no mood for an attitude — I rarely am, admittedly — so it’s your choice; mouth off tonight, or sit comfortably tomorrow.”

“Hm, I’ll need a moment to consider th—ow!” One sharp, stinging smack against your exposed behind down, undoubtedly countless more to go. Unless you…

“It truly looks very beautiful on you, princess.” And somehow, with those words, he shattered your defenses, your attitude, your will to oppose. “Now, be a good girl and put your arms behind your head for me, and spread your legs a bit.”

He gently guided you into the position he was talking about, then took a step back to look at you. No… admire you. Before correcting around seven things about your posture, of course.

“And drop your shoulders,” he instructed before he finally seemed happy with your stance. “Good girl.”

He circled you, slowly, and you responded by dropping your chin to your chest and staring at the floor while heat crept up your neck in a staggering tempo, paying for your mistake with a swift and hard smack on your ass — and then a second one to the other cheek.

“Head up, princess,” he snapped, appearing in front of you and standing so close he could rest his forehead against yours. “You stay in this position until I tell you otherwise, do you understand? Don’t nod, speak up.”

“Yes, sir.” It slipped out, promise! Nothing about you had had any kind of intention to call him that, you…

“It’s okay, princess. I like it. Are you comfortable with it?” His eyes were kind, his lips curved up slightly in a polite yet loving smile.

“Yes,” you muttered.

“Not a hard requirement, but I do like to hear you say it,” he added, softly stroking your cheek. “You can lower your arms, princess.”

You did as he told you, keeping your legs a little further than shoulder width apart.

“Why the, eh… position?” you asked carefully, afraid of what the answer could be.

“I enjoy looking at you,” he replied. “Consider it an inspection, of sorts, although I promise you I have no intent to degrade you — much.” A smile rugged at the corners of his mouth.

“What?” Your voice was little more than a whisper.

“Don’t try to tell me you’re not dying for someone to actually call you their… hm… what did I overhear back then?” Oh no… what had he overheard? “Perfect little cockslut?” Oh. Oh. August let out a harsh chuckle.

“I…” Yeah, you what? He was right, for fuck’s sake! “I suppose as long as you make it sound like a compliment, I’ll take it as one.”

He laughed, and gently pulled you into his side. “There’s one more thing I want to show you tonight, is that okay?”

You nodded and quietly followed along when he guided you towards the wall, which he had you face.

“Now, princess,” he said softly. “I want you to bend over. Hands or forearms on the wall, please. Feet a little further apart… good girl.”

The praise sent shivers down your spine, and you leaned eagerly into August’s touch as he ran a hand down your behind.

“This is the position that will be used for punishment,” he said with a hint of a smile to his voice. “Which is why I’m showing it to you now. I have a feeling we’ll need it quite a lot.”

“You’re really all chains and whips and safewords, aren’t you?” The question was out before you even realized you’d opened your mouth.

“We all have our own ways of dealing with centuries of sexual repression,” he answered. He was only half-joking.

“August…”

“It’s alright, princess,” he chuckled. “I simply enjoy inflicting pleasure. Come here…” He let himself fall on his bed, and you left your position by the wall to gladly snuggle into his side.

“August,” you whispered, this time so softly you hoped it wouldn’t leave this room. If there was anyone in the house with the knowledge and expertise…

“Yes, princess? It’s alright, at this volume he won’t hear you.”

“Is there any way to tie a vampire up without breaking furniture or…” You couldn’t look him in the eye while you said it, and you agitatedly shushed August’s uncontrolled laughter that followed your question.

“Is Mike in trouble?” he asked quietly. You noticed a mischievous twinkle in his eyes when you finally met his gaze.

“Is Mike ever not in trouble?”

[alsziarts]

Thank you The Red Circle for confirming a theory of mine: Sherlock likes hanging upside down 🦇

[bakanokiwami]

TOP 10 TV SHOW FANDOMS ON AO3 BASED ON NUMBER OF FANWORKS, SINGLE CATEGORY VERSION (2009-2022)

If you want to see the TV Show bar chart with the multi-category fandom tags included, please check this post.

To make these bar chart race, all series titles in the TV Show Category on November 29 (or the closest date to it) of every year were copy-pasted from Wayback Machine to Google Sheets, rearranged according to number of fanworks, manually filtered for fandoms belonging in only one category and then inputted to Flourish to turn into a bar chart race.

Locked fanworks aren't included in the count because Wayback Machine can’t view those, only Ao3 users can.

Jossverse was in the top 10 from 2010-2017 (Top 2 in 2010 and 2011). In 2018, it was removed from the TV Show fandom list and works tagged with it show up in Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV) instead so I’ve excluded it from the bar chart.

Thanks for understanding and hopefully I didn’t mess up anywhere! 🙏

ETA: About Doctor Who: Doctor Who actually has 2 tags with ranked higher (Higher than Doctor Who (2005) even) on the list. Unfortunately, they were both multi-category tags: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms was also in the Other Media category thanks to the Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio), and the other tag Doctor Who was also in Books & Literature thanks to Doctor Who - Various Authors. You can see them rank in the top 10 TV Shows multi-category bar chart race linked above.

About Stargate: The Stargate - All Media Types tag is actually interesting because unlike most All Media Types tags, it’s only listed in the TV Show category. That’s why it still turned up in this list. This might just be a lack of tagging its other categories (like Books & Literature) on AO3, however. Now that I checked its subtags, it actually had at least 2 Book & Literature only subtags: Stargate Atlantis: Legacy Series - Various Authors and Stargate SG-1 - Various Authors. So it probably should not have been in this bar chart race. Apologies for the oversight.🙏

[black-ak9]

[littlefreya]

Thank you so much for reading and reblogging my dear! I wrote another bit of Vampire Sherlock :) you can read it here if you like. It’s quite dark though, so if it’s not your think i definitely understand.

More vampire!Sherlock

I have a 2 hour break rn and nothing to do so I might as well spread the horny😆

🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a thirsty thot about one of your favorite fictional babes. Go on and spread those shameless hoe vibes and your legs 😘❤️

Summary: You are caught in the clutches of a terrible creature who wants your life in more than one way…

Pairing: Vampire Sherlock! x Reader

Words: 560

Warning: 18+, dark themes (he is a vampire), mention of looming death, slightly dubious consent, just to be sure, lose of virginity, vaginal fingering, supernatural themes.

A/N: Well... it’s spooky times, and I was inspired by the amazing @rmtndew​ and her edits. I hope this doesn’t suck because I wrote it on the go! Not beta’d. More credits in the end. 

Red Night

"Scream."

At last, the master caught you at the dusky edge of a long night, after a chase... no - a hunt that felt like an eternity. Near the end of this pursuit, you were half-willing to give in to the sweet temptation presented by the tranquillity that was death, a quick and painless one, you hoped, for the detective might have been a monster but he was also a gentleman.

Though as the ethereal creature held you to the wall and glanced upon you through sharp daggers of ice and a fanged grin ample of malice, you knew that he would give you anything but peace.

Fingers wrapped around your neck, the soft pad of his thumb glided down your artery that ragefully throbbed from the allure of the chase. A shiver crawled through your skin then - terrorised by Sherlock's stone-cold touch, by the shadows that tainted his eyes as he felt the heat of your blood thrumming against his fingers.

"Scream for me, my angel of innocence." His command was abnormally soft, spoken tenderly as a lover would whisper.

And certainly, you wanted to scream. You wanted to scream so loudly your cries would rip a hole through hell, yet no voice met your tongue as you opened your mouth.

The master chuckled in response, his gaze lazily trailing to meet your cleavage, and his eyes blazed with a secondary trail. Asking no permission, he reached a hand to squeeze one of your breasts before he tore down your gown and made tatters of your chastity.

Still, no screams left your quivering lips, but a gasp and a shudder that descended from your neck to your loins. Absentmindedly, you ground your thighs, feeling an odd pain of yearning cascading at your untouched petals.

Sherlock must have smelled your sin, for his lips stretched further, exposing salivating fangs. Provoking, he urged his entire weight against your frame, and as the hardness in his groin throb against your belly, your legs instinctively parted as if to lure him inside.

His hand loosened from your neck, gently yet firmly at once; it made way down the heaps of your bare breasts and the valley of your warm skin until he found your silken skirts and made scraps of whatever remained.

Naked against the cold pitted stone, you trembled, your eyes cautiously searching for his, observing as he suckled his lips like a cat ready for his dessert.

"I will have your blood," he murmured and without warning, his long fingers slipped below to found the heat of your desire and sunk deep into your virginal core.

"Oh god!" You yelped, both of pain, shock and what you tried to denied but couldn’t.

‘Oh god! It feels... divine...’

The creature inched his face toward your neck, and once again, pulled a moan from your throat by the silky stroke of his tongue. Languid yet forceful, he pumped his fingers inside, stretching your little uncharted hole in preparation for the imminent demise of your purity.

"God ends here, little one," Sherlock assured and kissed your throat, his thumb now toyed with the little nub of flesh above your cunt, his teeth grazed your vein.

Lost of wits, you swayed to his touch and leaned into his body, all absent of protest and willing to succumb to death in the sake of pleasure. 

"I will have your blood," Sherlock uttered again and increased the pace of his ministrations while you clenched around him and whimpered for more. 

"But will I have you as my bride?"

Sinking into a grave of dark ecstasy, you locked your thighs around his hand and rode his fingers with a faint nod. His lips uttered words you could not quite hear and the world then blackened.

Death was only temporary,

- his love was eternal. 

———————

I do not own Enola Holmes or Sherlock Holmes.

“God ends here” is taken from the movie “the nun”

[cardierreh15]

When love finds a way

I do not give any permission to copy or repost my work!

Warnings 18+: Death , Blood .

Pairings: Henry Cavill (Drake/Dracula) x Misty/Mia (Black!plus size female)

Description: The past comes back to haunt Drake in the most strangest way.

Song(s): Time Of The Season by The Zombies

Word Count: 2.9K

One

Shadows casted and danced as one with the candlelight upon the walls. Sweet angelic laughter had filled the air as he nuzzled his pointy nose into her soft warm skin; pampering sweet kisses on her flesh.

A toothy grin had curled on his lips, with a glint of sparkle in his blood pigmented eyes. ‘I really must go now. I told you I’d stay for a glass of wine and one had turned into 4.’

‘Ah,’ He smacked at his teeth and leaned over to grab the neck of the wine bottle, ‘Just one more my love.’ Then he’d reached over and poured a few more ounces into her once again empty glass. ‘I’d wished you just move in with me already.’

The woman wanted to object, but instead she just laughed and looked over at him, ‘If I didn’t know better, Id be thinking you’re trying to get me drunk! And, if we moved in together, I don’t think I’d be able to keep my promise to myself.’

‘And what promise was that my love?’

‘To at least wait a month into our marriage before you put me to bed.’

‘Hmph. You do make it hard to wait.’

The couple chuckled before he looked up at her, ‘And Perhaps I am… or maybe I just enjoy your company that much.’ He placed the bottle back down on the glass table and sat back, ‘We are to spend the rest of eternity together after all.’ He smiled softly.

The woman scooped up her wine glass by the neck and look at the beautiful wedding ring that donned her hand. A hesitant smile curled on her lips before she took a sip of her wine once more.

Drake’s eyebrows pulled into one as he noticed her happy demeanor had faltered some. He sat up and scoot closer to her, ‘Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts my love?’ He took her hand carefully and placed a gentle kiss upon her diamond.

‘N-no. It’s just that … eternity is a long time. I want to experience life first before … immortality. I want to birth a son, or a daughter—‘

He sighed softly, closing his eyes before, ‘Mia—‘

‘Dracula…’ she said as she snapped her head towards him. ‘You are my husband… is it not your job to give me what my heart truly desires?’

‘Yes but—‘

‘But?’ Her sweet honey brown eyes stared into his.

He broke the eye contact before looking down at her mahogany hands. ‘What if—‘ he swallowed his spit and looked back up at her, ‘What if I can’t? What if all these years have finally caught up with me and I can’t provide you with what you want? What then, Mia?’

Mia placed her small warm palms on his cheeks and pulled him into a sweet kiss. She could taste small remnants of blood upon his lips but it didn’t bother her much. She’d gotten use to the taste in the past year and a half.

When she’d broken the kiss, she whispered against his lips, ‘I know we can. Plus, It is always fun… practicing.’ She giggled.

Drake chuckled as well, pressing his forehead against hers, ‘It is. Maybe we can start practicing tonight?’ He then rushed in another kiss, before pampering her face and neck with sweet pecks.

A tickled laugh bounced off the walls before they were smothered with his own mouth once again.

The two were barely out of their clothes when they heard someone call his name, “DRACULA! SURRENDER YOURSELF VILE CREATURE OF HELL!”

He looked over his shoulder as he hovered over his lover.

‘Who is that?!’ Mia said in worry.

Drake quickly and carefully pulled himself off of her and walked over to the window. Once he’d pulled the winter curtain to the side, there stood the whole nearby village with pitchforks and lit up torches in their hands.

‘Mia, stay here.’

‘What?! No, Drake— they’ll kill you!’

‘Mia!’ With his immortal speed, he grabbed her face, ‘Please… stay… here. They mustn’t know you’re here—‘

‘DRACULAAA! COME OUT, THE CHURCH ONLY WISHES TO SPEAK WITH YOU!’

‘Hide. Do not come out until I come to you myself do you understand?!’

Mia nodded quickly before she hurried off and searched for hiding places.

He walked towards the large door of his home, unlocked it and pulled it open. He was instantly greeted with the scent of burning oil. He could hear the racing of everyone’s heart. They feared him. All of them except the priest, who held that cursed book in his arm.

Shutting the door softly behind him, he then walked forward, ‘My I help you… priest?’

‘Hmm… indeed you can.’

Drake narrowed his eyes as he took in the individual. He donned dirty blonde hair, green eyes and had a lean, tall frame. He wore a black cloak with red trimmings around the wrists and around his neck he work a silver necklace with a large cross pendant.

‘I Am Priest Darius Obadiah. I preach at the local town’s church. And I specifically specialize in exorcisms and vampire hunting. Basically, I am a servant of God, here to rid the world of evil. Such as yourself. ‘

‘I do not know what you mean Priest. Perhaps you’ve stumbled across the wrong man.’

Priest Darius narrowed his eyes for a second and sighed before continuing, ‘I have received word on your whereabouts from the people of the church. These…’ the priest reached his arm out, gesturing towards the folk behind him, ‘People. But that isn’t the most interesting part…’

Drake’s brows pulled into one, his red eyes searching the crowd for anyone that he would have recognized. He paid no mind to the priest until he mentioned, ‘The townsfolk say you have a woman. I hear she’s the most beautiful thing this world has ever seen. Skin chocolatey and silky. Something you’d kill to dig your fangs into?’

His eyes darted back towards the priest and he clenched his jaw together, ‘I haven’t heard of such a woman… I am a mere farmer… I am alone.’

The Priest raised a brow before continuing, ‘I want to believe you son… but the darkness I feel exuding off of you is unmatched. Joseph, Phillip! Bring her to me please!’

Drake snapped his head over his shoulder as two large men carried her out by her arms. ‘DRAKE! Get off! Get off of me!’ And they tossed her to the ground before the priest.

‘MIA! DON’T YOU DARE HARM HER!’ His crimson eyes glowed brighter than the moon. His large fangs protruded from his gums.

‘Ah! There she is! Just as they have described to be too! And all we needed from you— was a little motivation.’ The Priest chuckled as he walked over to the young beautiful woman and grabbed her by her thick curls. ‘Up, up, up— there you go sweet heart.’

‘AUGH!’ Mia whimpered out.

‘Mia! I won’t let them hurt you my love!’

The priest gave some of the villagers a nod for them to start burning down his stock, and his home.

Drake was aware of what was occurring behind him but he kept his eyes fixated on the priest.

‘Look… I know you planned on living a quiet life. Settling down but you are an abomination. A demon sent from hell to plague this world your vileness. You have and only will put everyone you know in danger… so you can give yourself up now or I will simply break you.’

‘DRAKE! DON’T DO IT!’

Drake kept his eyes on the priest before he looked at his distressed wife. ‘Mia…’

The priest smacked his teeth, rolling his eyes, ‘Fine. Let’s see how you bend under pressure.’ And in record time, the priest pulled out a dagger and stabbed it through her back.

A gasp came from Mia’s lips as he snatched the blade right out of her.

‘MIAAAA!’ He rushed over to his dying lover, falling to his knees and pulled her up into his lap. ‘Mia! Baby, baby— it’s ok! It’s not that bad—It’s.‘ his breathing was shaky. He pulled her up so he could see the wound in her back and placed one hand there, and the other rested on her exit wound in her abdomen. ‘Come on baby! Stay with me!’

‘Such a shame… she was beautiful. What a waste.’ And the priest turned around and walked through the villagers.

‘Dr—… it’s-it’s okay.’ She muttered out, her eyes wet with her own tears. Mia placed her bloodied hands on his face, ‘it’s OK… let it… g-go.’

‘It’s OK baby. I’ve got you. Just… stay with me OK. Look at me!’

Mia gave him a pained smile as a thick tear fell down the side of her face. Her face finally relaxed. And her rhythmic heart had came to a stop.

‘No, no, no. Mia— Mia please! Stay with me please. MIA!’

He sobbed as he held her. A pain he’d never experienced before ripped through him and he just let out a painful wail. He pulled her up into his arms and just held her corpse close. Rocking as if he were putting a baby to sleep.

‘What about him, father?’ One of the villagers asked.

‘He is broken. Death is what he wants. His punishment for his presence shall to live without the one he loves for the rest of his days.’

‘And what if he comes for us?!’ Another villager asked in worry.

‘He will… and we shall be ready.’

In the back, his home was already engulfed in flames. His stock ran around rampant, burning and dying. But cared nothing about it. They’d taken away the one thing he loved in this world.

He sought revenge. And God and his disciples were to feel his everlasting wrath. For those who steered in his way— would meet their dreadful and untimely demise too.

***

Modern Day

The weather was treacherous today. It was almost enough to make Drake stay indoors. But he needed to finished his painting. He was almost done with it, so he bit the silver bullet and got himself together.

He wore a simple black slacks and a button down with a black wife beater beneath it. He then threw on a black blazer to complete the look. And on his way out the door, he grabbed his black umbrella and his sunglasses.

Drake inhaled deeply; taking in all of the scents around him. He could smell the moisture in the air. It was to rain soon, so he had to hurry back. The man was like a cat thrown in a tub! He hated getting wet against his will.

He then carefully pulled his AirPods out of his pocket and plugged them into his ears. Pulling out his iPod, he restarted his playlist and began on his journey.

Drake lived in the city. This way he never felt the need to invest in a car. As far as he knew, he wasn’t being hunted thus, so walking about was a bit more relieving. Plus, everything was nearby! Supermarket, Drugstore, Restaurants, Hospital (where he would stock up his special packets at). A perfect place go blend in.

‘Hi, Mister Drake!’ A little boy with bright ginger hair on a bike chirped out, stopping right in front of him.

He pressed his lips and stopped in his tracks, ‘Oliver, careful with that thing… you can hurt someone… or worse!’

‘What? This little ole thing? You are too big to be hurt by the likes of me.’ The young man said proudly.

‘That’s kind of you young man. Now if you’d excuse—‘

‘My mom keeps asking about you Mister Drake! When you gone call her?’

Drake raised a brow, his neck stiffening at the thought of his mother. She was a beautiful woman, pretty blue eyes, strawberry blonde hair, coke bottle shape. But he would only use her for one thing if not, the other. So he looked behind him and ahead of him before leveling down to Oliver’s height.

‘Look,’ he pulled his shades down to the top of his nose, revealing his bright crimson eyes. ‘Tell your mother to stop sending her son to speak regarding her. It’s inappropriate and unladylike. And if she’d like, I’m available everyday around 7:30. K?’

The young man’s lips were parted open, stuck in a trance almost until he nodded.

‘Good lad,’ he pushed his shades back over his orbs and stood up straight, ‘Now, run along now. Behave now, young Oliver. I will be watching you!’

***

As soon as he walked into the safety of the arts and crafts store, he brought down his umbrella and pushed his shades back over his head. Then, he picked up a hand basket.

Blinking a few times he allowed his sensitive orbs to take absorb the artificial light. He then inhaled deeply, this way he was able to find out everything about every person in the establishment. Most of the pheromones were the same usual scents, and some were different but not special enough for him to be pulled in. All except one.

‘Hmmm.’ He hummed softly before his attention was grasp by one of the workers.

‘Mr. Drake! How’s it going?’

He snapped his head towards the older woman before giving her a gentle smile, ‘Mrs. King. Hi, how are you? How was your holiday?’

‘It was delightful! Kids had a blast up there in the snow! But I didn’t get to see you before I left. No lie, I was a bit concerned. Are you doing alright?’

November 29th was the day that Mia had passed. And every year since her death he would prepare a memorial in her honor. That was also the last day Mrs. King worked before her vacation.

He nodded, pressing his lips together, ‘Just— had business to take care of. I’m fine, truly.’

‘Well, you know I am a phone call away. Oh! We restocked in your favorite Oil & Acrylics yesterday! Gone head have a blast!’ She grinned happily.

‘Oh goodie! I best be on my way!’ He grinned as he began to make his way towards the back of the store where there were all kinds of varieties of canvases, paints, and brushes. This was his safe haven. His personal Heaven.

Suddenly, that unusual yet, familiar scent danced around his nose once again. But it was a delightful scent. It made love to his senses and made whatever soul he had left in him, feel right at home.

So he just followed it, gaining closer and closer to the smell. To his surprise was a curly haired, cinnamon skinned woman admiring a large squeeze bottle of paint. She was curvaceous, and small in height. She had the same silhouette as his long lost love.

Or perhaps he was seeing things.

Drake quietly walked over and just stood there eyeing the different kinds of paint. A smooth, seductive song began to play in his ears. Causing his eyes to close slightly as he savored the sound.

Until he found himself singing out softly.

‘What’s your name, whose your daddy—‘

‘Whose your daddy,’ the girl adlibed, ‘He rich? Is he rich like mee?’

Drake blinked once and looked over at the woman who was still studying the paint and now humming the rest of the song.

‘You like The Zombies?’ He said with a smirk, his eyebrow raised and curiosity.

‘Not really,’ she said before dropping the blue paint in her hand basket and looked up at him. Her hair bounced and moved effortlessly. So lively and full! ‘Just that song in particularly.’ She giggled.

When their eyes met, Drake felt like he’d been kicked in the gut by a mule. She had her same beautiful, charming smile. Those same honeycomb eyes, and those lips… those full lips he use to just indulge on for no particular reason at all. Just because that’s the closest he got to tasting her. Hell, even her heart beat sounded the same.

He was still as if he was caught in Medusa’s glare.

‘Uh..’

Drake blinked out of his own head, ‘I’m… sorry. You just reminded me of someone.’ He turned his gaze away and started packing the colors he needed.

The girl smiled softly, her small dimples deepening in her cheeks, ‘I hope they were good memories.’ She gave him a gentle giggle.

He bit into his bottom lip and pressed his lips together. He was afraid to say anything else.

‘I’m… Misty… by the way.’

Drake looked down at his basket before looking back over at her with a gentle smile, ‘Drake.’

‘Drake?’

‘Mmmm.’ He hummed in agreement.

‘Like the rapper?’

‘Who?’ He raised a brow before looking over at the gorgeous woman.

‘You know? “You use to call me on your cell phone— late night when you neeed myyy love.” You know that guy?’ She said elbowing him gently.

Drake stared at her, confusion written on his face.

‘Oh dear… that was a very popular song.’ Misty giggled as she picked up another color.

‘Not popular enough, I suppose.’

The girl laughed and shook her head, ‘I guess not. So why do they call you Drake?’

‘It’s short for something…’ he paused, feeling like he was opening way too many doors.

‘OK… what is it then?’

‘I’d rather not tell. I don’t like my name.’

‘Alright, well— it’s been a pleasure “Call me on my cellphone,” man.’ she began to back up and wave her dainty fingers towards him. ‘I must get going. See ya around.’

‘See ya.’ He murmured as she disappeared around the corner. If it were possible for a vampire to throw up, he probably would’ve done that already.

[no-side-us]

Without speaking, Holmes examined it with care. Finally he shook one of the dimpled fists which waved in front of him. “Good-bye, little man. You have made a strange start in life. Nurse, I should wish to have a word with you in private.”

Little art of Holmes and the baby cause I thought it was really cute.

[sky-is-the-limit]

Is somebody gonna match my freak? 😔

[scarletdreamers]

It's so hilarious to me how in queer media that actually accurately represents queer people (adults) there's always some kind of murder or other unforgivable mistakes involved??? Like, yeah that's my favourite genre, but why is queer cinema always some kind of psychological thriller/horror, especially the old stuff. Give us a minute to BREATHE please. Someone always DIES. I can name so many examples on this I'm actually going to write a paper on it asap, because I just think it's both so funny and interesting but also disturbing.

[wistfulpoltergeist]

♫Dernière Volonté - Je serai Toujours♫

[all-or-nothing-baby]

let's pour one out for the fallen blorbos.

those blorbos you still think of often, who can still make you smile fondly but have taken a background position in your fandom life; those blorbos you might have dusty ol'sideblogs for that you keep even tho you know may never post there again; those blorbos who have broken both legs when falling tragically into near-obscurity in the void dimension of your brain where temporary hyperfixation goes to die; those blorbos you onced loved and will always love, just in a softer, quieter kind of way...

this one's for you, old friend.

[geralts-yenn]

Aaaaah, all those feelings! They need to stop hurting each other and arguing and live a happy little reverse harem life!

This kiss was promising! So promising. You know I've been waiting for this to happen since... forever! And then you do that to me? Some feral Marshall making me feel like prey?

And with everything happening after that, I can't even be mad at you. I love all the vampire lore you present to us here. So we got a secret vampire wedding? More proposals - and then a vampire divorce? Kind of? The latter makes me incredibly sad, won't lie. But if Mikey is sure that things are going to be fine, I will trust you that you'll bring me back into his arms. I'm already missing him 🥺

“What I was trying to say is… we would all like to have what Mike has.” “Yet again,” Mike muttered.

I already sent this to you - I love that pouting little baby vampire so, so much 🥺

I'm really happy that Mikey took responsibility for his actions, even when this means it will hurt us both.

I really can't wait for more. There's so much I need to see happening - We need to rebuild our relationship with Mike. We need to talk with Sherlock. We need to smack August's smirk from his face. We need to meet the rest of the family (No, we're not addressing them as daddy 🤣 Not even Charles) And most of all, we need to get back into Walter's bed, ffs!

Part 18

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 17 🟣 Part 19

A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August and Sherlock

Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...

Warnings: Ongoing vampire shenanigans, mentions of blood, biting, angst...

Word count: 3k

A/N: Alright, I keep finding myself in a position where I need to apologize for what's happening. And apparently we're back to my usual habit of cockblocking my boys. So a special "I'm so very sorry" to @ellethespaceunicorn right now, because I know this is not what they wanted to happen 😂😂 Enjoy!

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @summersong69 @mis-lil-red @ellethespaceunicorn @sillyrabbit81 @livisss @itsrubberbisquit @ktficworld

“It's open.” As soon as you heard the gentle voice on the other side of the door, you sighed and reached for the door handle. “Hello, love, what has you up so late?” He asked out of politeness, of course; he knew exactly what was on your mind.

“I'm cold,” you said, despite knowing there was no way to hide why you were truly here. “And I can't sleep.” At least that wasn't a lie.

The look in Marshall's eyes asked you another question: What were you doing here?

“Mike's pulling an all-nighter for his extra credit assignment, August and Sherlock are at work, and…” Shit. You hadn't intended to make it sound like Walter was a last resort, or something. Part of your reason for showing up at his door was — indeed — that you didn't want to be alone, but you couldn't possibly describe how happy it made you that the current circumstances forced you into this uncharted territory. It would have been easier to curl up next to Sherlock, Mike or August, just because you'd done it before, when the simple truth was that you wanted to be with Marshall right now. You'd almost go as far as saying that some invisible force had pulled you from your bed and towards his room — even after you'd spent the better part of an hour trying to convince yourself that being by yourself in your own bed was just fine.

But it hadn't been ‘just fine’. And neither was standing around outside Walter's room, too scared to walk up to him and curl up on his bed.

Nervous fingers fidgeted with the hem of the t-shirt you were wearing as you stared at your feet, too scared to ask for what you wanted. The one time you wanted him to read your thoughts and he just wouldn't?

“Why don't you come in?” he finally asked, after what seemed like an eternity, while he pulled the covers back. Even accepting the invitation was difficult, although you couldn't pinpoint why that was, exactly.

You got into bed with him, and — for reasons unbeknownst to you — curled up as far away from him as the space would allow.

“I'd say I don't bite, but…” he chuckled softly as he reached for your arm, gently brushing your skin with his fingertips.

“Walter,” you whispered, “I'm so sorry.” What were you even apologizing for?

“Good grief, come here, love!” He pulled you into his arms, and although there was a part of you that wanted to protest, you didn't. Couldn't. Perhaps a little sliver of your brain knew you shouldn't. “You have nothing to apologize for. I, on the other hand, do.”

Your confused expression prompted him to continue: “I took your advice and got over myself. I never meant to create any tension between us, and I apologize for the way I acted when I ran into you in the hallway last week. I promise you I don't have a problem being the last one —”

“You're not,” you interrupted. “Sherlock…”

“Talk to him,” Marshall said softly, clearly not intent on letting you in on whatever it was that he knew and you didn't. “All I'm trying to say is that I'm glad you didn't rush this. You're here because you're ready for whatever it is that we are, and I can't tell you how happy that makes me.” He pressed his lips to your temple, and a shiver rippled through your entire body. You felt it in your toes, and a soft moan escaped before you could stop it.

“Kiss me,” you whispered, “please.”

Marshall happily obliged, pressing his lips to yours — softly at first, but that didn't last long. He grabbed your thigh and pulled your leg up to his hip, crushing your body against his, while he deepened the kiss.

He was everything you dreamed he would be — a pleasant combination of rough and demanding, yet gentle and pliable. His scent invaded your senses like never before; a smoky, warm scent, that suited him perfectly. You moaned softly as his tongue danced with yours, and before you knew it, he turned the both of you around, trapping you underneath his body, pinning you to the mattress. His mouth left yours, and you mewled in short-lived disappointment as his lips moved to your neck, instead.

Then, he was gone.

“Get out.” His voice was dark and gravelly, almost a growl, and he was standing on the far side of the room. “Go to Mike’s room, lock the door, do not leave until Sherlock comes to get you.”

What the hell was going on here? “Darling, I’m not kidding. Go.”

You were paralyzed by fear as you watched what was so clearly a predator dig his nails into the wall of his room — and actually making dents with his fingertips. For the first time since you’d moved into the house — even counting the last time Marshall had had this intense a reaction to you — you felt like prey.

“Come on, Sweetcheeks, does he look like he’s joking?” Mike pulled you off the bed and a second later you were in his bedroom. “Fuck.”

“Mike, what the hell is going on?” you asked — several times, even, but no answer came. Mike simply tucked you into his bed, kissed your forehead and told you to go to sleep — which you were only able to do, eventually, because of the rhythmic clicking of Mike’s keyboard.

“Princess, we have come to the collective conclusion that Mike has done something incredibly dumb.”

“Well, now, there’s a surprise,” you chuckled, and Mike burst into laughter.

“It’s not funny, Mike,” Sherlock said calmly, an icy edge to his usually polite voice. “You nearly started a war between us.”

“I mean, he’s the one who—” Before he could finish his sneer at Marshall, August’s hand hit the back of Mike’s head. “Right. I’m sorry, what I did was wrong and irresponsible, and I need to think things through more often.”

“And then probably still ask a grown-up if it’s a good idea,” August muttered just loud enough for you to hear.

“Boys,” you warned them — alright, mostly August, “what is this about?”

“He marked you,” Sherlock said, his voice grim and his brow furrowed as he gestured at the side of your neck, where Mike’s bite had left two small, round scars. “We hoped it wouldn’t matter — our optimism was foolish, of course. I’ve hated those scars for weeks, and I can’t imagine August is much of a fan, either.” He sighed deeply and leaned forward, resting his head in his hands as he let out a frustrated groan.

“We should have done something immediately,” August muttered.

“Well, yes,” Sherlock agreed, “but we didn’t. We’re lucky no one got hurt.” He was looking at you. He was talking about you. Who else would get hurt?

“What do we do now?” you asked carefully. It was easy to read the room; the guys were tense, Mike looked incredibly guilty, and Marshall was still actively avoiding looking at you.

“First, princess, we give you another vampire-lesson,” August snarled, “that Mike will be forced to sit through as a refresher-course on why we don’t do this, even though he knows exactly why that is. Then, the three of us” — he gestured at himself, Sherlock and Walter — “sit back and enjoy the show while you tear him” — he pointed at Mikey — “a new one. Then you decide what you want to do, although we do have a… proposal of sorts.” You almost missed the devious glint in his eyes.

“Mike, why?” you whispered about ten minutes later, when Sherlock had finished his explanation.

“I love you, I didn’t want to lose you to them… Didn’t work anywhere near as well as I’d hoped, I have to admit, but—” You rolled your eyes and raised a hand to shut him up.

“Mike, do you have any idea how incredibly violated I feel?” What had he been thinking? That the inescapable explanation of how marking was the vampire equivalent of pretty much marriage would have resulted in a simple shrug from you as you went on with your life, happily tied to your vampire hubby for eternity? He wasn’t that stupid, right? Was he?

“Ow, fuck!” Apparently, you were incredibly stupid. Hitting a vampire? Really? “August, break his face for me, would you?”

“My pleasure, princess,” August chuckled, “but I’m afraid we’re here to avoid bloodshed.”

“He basically married me without my consent! How can you even do that? Someone tell me if the wooden stake thing is real!”

“You can try stabbing him with a chopstick later,” August said, “right now, we need to fix this.”

How in the world would you even begin to try to fix this?

“The first option would be to undo this,” Sherlock said calmly, “but one of us will have to match the previous bite, which will hurt, and it will damage your relationship with Mike, for the time being.”

“And the second option?” As much as you thought he was an asshat and a total clown for doing this to you, you didn’t want your relationship to suffer…

“That would bring us to the proposal August talked about before,” Marshall said. As it turns out, the word ‘proposal’ was far more accurate than you had expected.

“Vampires don’t have the habit of getting down on one knee, princess,” August said with a smile, which turned back to a grim expression as he continued to speak: “But we do tend to discuss this with our potential partners beforehand, Mike.”

“I know, August!” Mike suddenly snapped. “I made a mistake!”

“Yet another,” August mumbled so low you could barely hear him.

“August, lay off him!” you yelled, surprising yourself as you did it. “He’s right. He made a mistake, and a pretty damn stupid one, but you guys don’t have half the right that I do to get mad at this jerk right now.” Mike pouted at you, clearly a little disappointed with what you’d just said.

“Fine,” August sighed. “What I was trying to say is… we would all like to have what Mike has.”

“Yet again,” Mike muttered.

“Mike, not helping,” you hissed over your shoulder before turning to the guys. “I couldn’t be happier, guys.” Of course you wanted to be with them forever!

“We do want you to understand that, although not legally binding, these marks are a symbol of a significant emotional commitment," Sherlock explained. “You shouldn’t think lightly of this.”

“We understand if you have questions or reservations,” Walter added. “And we feel that some introductions should be made before we proceed with any of this, anyway.”

Introductions? To whom? Was there another part of their coven you hadn’t met yet?

“There are some other members of our family you haven’t met,” August added. Ah, right. Sometimes, you hated being right.

The guys looked up when Mike cleared his throat. “Maybe a good first step would be to, eh… undo the damage I’ve done.” His lip was trembling and he had trouble looking August in the eye.

“What? No!” you protested. Hadn’t he heard Sherlock say it would damage your relationship? Was he willing to risk that?

“Sweetcheeks,” Mike said as he put his hands on your hips and pulled you close, “if you love me half as much as I know you do, you’ll come back to me.”

“Back?” you stammered. Were you going to lose him completely? Because if that were the case, then your answer to this was no, no, no and a thousand times no.

“Not completely,” Marshall said softly, “but things will probably change. That said, I do believe he’s right. And I mostly don���t think we can ask you to jump into something with the three of us just because of a little fuck-up.”

“Major fuck-up,” August unhelpfully added.

"August, enough!” Sherlock snapped. It was always impressive to see how the guys reacted when he lost his temper a little, and it made you a little proud to be with him.

“He’s the patriarch of the household,” Marshall explained, reading into your thoughts, “it comes with the perk that he can order us around and it’s extremely difficult for us to ignore him.”

“I don’t enjoy exercising that power,” Sherlock said, “and I hardly consider it a perk.”

“She thinks it’s sexy, though,” August said, winking at you.

“Shut up, August,” you snapped, and — to your surprise — he shut his mouth, although it didn’t look like he did so of his own volition. A result of the lingering effects of your status as household smoothie, perhaps?

“Maybe,” Marshall answered your unasked question. “Although I believe it’s not uncommon for Naturals to slip into a vacant reigning position.” He raised a questioning eyebrow at Sherlock, who confirmed his statement.

“Don’t overdramatize it,” August huffed, “it’s just because she’s the only, and therefore eldest, woman in the coven.”

“Hm, nice and heteronormative,” you noted. The others laughed.

“It’s much more flexible than you might think from this short introduction,” Sherlock explained. “I’ve been around enough covens to have witnessed all kinds of configurations in coven hierarchy. Up to and including a very charismatic non-binary individual who miraculously eliminated any need for a second leader. Highly uncommon, but absolutely fascinating, we—”

“Sherlock,” August interjected, “the point?”

“The point, dear August,” you said with a coy smile, “is that this may not be because I’m the only woman in the house.”

“Ignore August,” Marshall said, and the guys laughed again when you pointed out that you usually did ignore him, “he’s just bitter that he loses his status the second Sherlock sets foot in the door.”

“At least when it’s Charles, there’s a bit of a struggle to it,” August admitted.

“Charles, your father?” you asked, only to be met with four sharp hisses.

“Don’t,” Sherlock said with a sweet chuckle to his voice, “please. I beg you, don’t complicate coven dynamics with human ideas of family relations.”

“Oh, I’ve heard this speech before,” you said before he could continue. “But he was born, not created. What else am I supposed to think?”

“I think describing Charles as my father is reasonable,” August said to your — and Sherlock’s — surprise. “It’s what I typically call him — although not to his face. But I also think it’s rather important to not read into it too much. Succubi are incapable of love, and Charles was little more than a glorified sperm donor, but I am his biological offspring, and by human definition that would mean he is my father.”

“But we’re not reading into that, huh?” you asked sarcastically. What was the big deal, anyway? How complicated could the comparison with family make things to begin with?

“Darling,” Marshall said with a smile so kind it immediately became obvious to you that he was about to say something rather disturbing. “Sherlock turned me, and I turned Mike. Now, how would you like hanging on to that comparison if it meant you kissed your boyfriend’s grandfather and were well on your way to fucking his dad?”

Judging from the way they started laughing, you must have looked well and truly mortified. They were right — of course they were! After all, they’d had centuries of experience with this. It had been completely foolish of you to assume you were somehow right about this while they weren’t.

“Yeah, I get it now,” you muttered, although your mind wouldn’t let go of the comparison just yet, which meant you felt really weird about your relationship with the guys now, for the first time in a while.

“Maybe this will make it easier to let go of the thought,” August said when he sensed your distress. “Suppose one of us were to turn you,” — you knew it was foolish to hope he wouldn’t sense how happy that thought made you, but you hoped for it anyway — “would you ever consider him a parent?”

No. The simple and honest answer to that question was a resounding negative. In fact, you were sure nothing would change about the way you saw these guys. Unconsciously, you moved closer to Mike on the couch, and he wrapped an arm around you. It was safe there, knowing he knew what you wanted. The look the others shared let you know that they knew it too, but no one seemed prepared to bring it up at this point in time.

“To get back to the matter at hand,” August finally said, “because some of us have things to do… Mike, are you sure this is what you want?”

Mike looked at him for a moment and sighed in frustration. “It’s the last thing I want! But it needs to happen. What I did was wrong, and I took away her choice, and if we’re going to do this, I want us to do it right.”

“Mike, I don’t want to lose you.” You wrapped your arms around him as you spoke.

“You won’t.” He sounded so sure of it that you found yourself agreeing to his proposal without even realizing it, taking it as a good sign that the others didn’t try to stop you. It couldn’t be a horrible idea if Sherlock was on board with it, right? “August, would you…”

August nodded and got up, appearing next to you on the couch a fraction of a moment later. “Right now?”

“I think it would be best to rip this Band-Aid off as quickly as possible,” Sherlock said. Were you imagining things, or did he sound a little bit anxious about the whole thing after all?

“This is going to hurt, princess,” August warned you. “And there is nothing I can do about that.” He quietly moved his lips to the side of your throat, where Mike had marked you, and you prepared for the bite — which was difficult, as you had no real idea of what to expect.

Whatever you had expected, however, wasn’t the excruciating pain you felt when August’s fangs pierced the scarred skin, and you couldn’t help but cry out in agony. Even when his teeth withdrew again, the feeling of being stabbed with a red-hot poker remained, only very minimally soothed by the feeling of August’s tongue against your neck.

You slumped back into the couch and looked to your side, where Mike was sitting, and as soon as you locked eyes with him, it was as if something between the two of you snapped.