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oh-holy-slut · 3 years ago

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Bloodlust

Pairing: Damon Salvatore x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, explicit language, blood sharing, mentions of death, oral sex

Word Count: 2,6k

Summary: Stefan forced Damon to try his animal diet. Damon hated it, but didn't had a choice... until Reader makes a suggestion. Suddenly things get steamy.

Being with Damon was complicated. Him and Y/N have seen each other a lot in the past weeks. The two of them had a lot of fun; saw a lot of movies. Actually, Y/N was sure Damon secretly hated many of those. However, anytime Y/N suggested another dramatic, romantic cliché movie like "Last Song" - the vampire groaned, put his arm around her shoulder, let her head rest on his chest and endured every single second of the movie of her choice.

Damon even flirted and teased Y/N here and there, but didn't lead to anything more intimate so far.

Today was another of those days. Y/N stuck around at the Salvatore boarding house, brought a few of Damon's favorite groceries and a bunch of movies, of which she thought that they will suit his taste. Even if they were a little to bloody and brutal in her opinion.

"Pick one!", she demanded, holding all three Blu-ray sleeves in front of him. Damon just shrugged, not bothering to even look.

"Don't be a killjoy, Damon Salvatore!" Y/N sighed.

"Tell me what's wrong or pick a movie. You've got no choice. And besides that... Which number of drink is this?" Y/N frowned, pointing at the liquor in her friends hand. Damon usually consumed his beloved bourbon with pleasure.

But the man on the couch didn't seem pleasured at all. His facial features totally hardened and a look in his eyes like he was ready to rip someone's heart out.

You put the disc's back in your handbag, closing the zipper and put the bag on the floor.

"Fine. No movie night today. Who are we going to kill?"

A small smirk appeared on Damon's lips, finally looking towards Y/N.

"Stefan and his hero hair. He made me go vegetarian... well, for a vampire... and I can't get myself to eat one of those chipmunks, bunnies or bambis." He shook himself with disgust.

"And why did he count you in? You clearly aren't excited about the changing... So, why did you agree?"

"He said, he would kill me, which is kinda funny. But-" Damon made a wide gesture "he stole my daylight ring. And he wouldn't give it back until I stop feeding on innocent people - and kill them."

"So, you truly let your younger brother blackmail you like that?! Wow... I don't know how to feel about your dieting or your new path. Or whatever this is supposed to be."

"You don't like me killing people either", Damon maintained, while taking another sip of bourbon.

"Well, I don't", Y/N agreed, took a step forward, stole the glass from the vampires hand and put it on a small table nearby. "But I don't believe in forcing as a method to get people to change their minds. I believe that change for the better must be an intrinsic motivation," she added quickly, giving the vampire an innocent smile.

Damon's lineaments suddenly turned from annoyed to curious. "Any suggestions, little one?" The vampire raised an eyebrow and a little smirk showed up on his lips. On the one hand, Y/N blushed over the nickname, Damon called her. On the other hand she felt skittish looking forward to making a deal with him. Not only a deal. It's far more than a simple agreement.

It's Y/N, actually giving Damon a part of her. The red elixir of life. She was about to give him total control of her body and she not even for a heartbeat doubt that Damon will use it against her.

"Actually... Yeah. There's something on my mind." Y/N said chewing on your lip. "I could open up a vein for you. I mean, you could feed on me. And since you have my permission, there's nothing for anybody to have objection about."

Damon frowned and gave her an incredulous look. "You would do that for me?" The vampire couldn't believe, he understood correctly. Why would Y/N want to get involved with him feeding on her? What's in it for her? Damon tried hard to connect the dots, but he wasn't able to. It all seemed to make no sense. Y/N wouldn't have an advantage of that. The vampire hesitated, pinning his dangerously blue eyes on the girl in front of him.

"Is it so suspicious of me, that I'm trying to help my closest friend?" It pierced Y/N's heart, realizing, Damon's trust in her was rather fragile. "Never mind", she waved the pain away and forced herself to keep her composure. "I only had a hasty idea; you really don't need to fee-"

Suddenly Damon appeared behind Y/N, using his vampirism. "Shhhh", he whispered softly. "I never said, that I don't want your blood. I'm thinking about if we are going to cross a line? Blood sharing can be very personal..."

"It can be? It is personal already. Believe it or not - I'm not gonna offer my veins to all the vampires of Mystic Falls." Y/N rolled her eyes, her arms folded on her chest to point out the indignation she felt right now.

"Kinda sensitive today, huh?" Damon gently stroke a strand of hair behind her ear, Y/N could hear this smug smirk through his words. It was a true 'Damon thing' to do. "I didn't mean it like that, princess." He sighed; unsure if he should agree or not. Damon didn't want to act selfish towards Y/N. He compelled a lot of girls for the purpose of drinking blood in the past. He literally used them as long as they weren't too annoying - and then he acted like they have never met. Damon Salvatore couldn't imagine this scenario with Y/N. They've been so close, the vampire couldn't stand loosing her. The offer was risky, but it also could bring each other even closer.

Damon tried hard to avoid any serious attraction between Y/N and him, afraid of messing up. Indeed, he found himself thinking, and even dreaming, about Y/N more than he wanted to admit. She was smart and had this special sense of humor, the vampire adored so much. She was the only one, who could make him feel good no matter what. Needless to say she had that glimmer in her eyes, when she did something she truly loved. In these moments she was even more pretty. Y/N was hard to resist.

And maybe now he could have her like nobody else. At least the vampire gave in. He wanted her blood. He wanted her.

Y/N flinched by the feeling of Damon brushing her neck with his lips. "Oh, Damon", she gasped. "Bite me." Y/N almost begged for the vampire's teeth breaking through her skin. Damon loved the sound of her husky voice. In less than a heartbeat he turned into his vampire shape. "If you insist", he grinned devilishly, ready to place his teeth on to her skin.

Suddenly Y/N made a slight move forward with the intention to interrupt her friend. "Did you change your mind?" Damon was close to switching back to human, overwhelmed by a mix of emotions. Mostly a lack of understanding, but also a little of disappointment and even anger. Was Y/N playing games on him? While Damon Salvatore was sorting feelings, Y/N turned around, standing now in front of him.

She was so close, not even a piece of paper would fit between them.

Y/N slightly exhaled breath, her eyes darting between the vampires eyes and lips. It was the first time Y/N saw him like this. The icy blue of his eyes, she loved so much, has turned darker. Purple veins appeared under his eyes; Y/N couldn't help herself. Damon's appearance fully intoxicated every fibre of her being. Her fingertips found their way gently brushing over his dark purple veins. She felt heat and softness, while tracing one of them. It took her a few seconds to get out of trance, realizing what she had done. "Sorry", she murmured with a voice barely audible. "Don't apologize, little one." Damon tilted his head, his lips curled up in a self-assured grin, exposing a perfectly white vampire fang. "I never saw you like this before, you loo-"

"... look like a monster?"

Y/N shook her head. It was nothing like that. Yes, he did look unfamiliar. And she should be scared under normal conditions. Instead, his look hit her in an unexpected way. He looked hotter as a vampire, if it was even possible.

Y/N cleared her throat, looking up at Damon. "I feel... attracted to you."

"So nothing's changed", Damon teased, raising his eyebrows. The girl in front of him softly slapped him on his shoulder; which was only possible because the vampire permitted. "You are always so full of yourself." She smirked, feeling more confident being to something, they have had been so many times before. Granted, he was terrifying accurate, but she wouldn't serve her feelings on a silver platter.

"I'm still into it. You can bite me; feed on me. I only needed to see you before..."

A shockwave of electricity flowed through her body the second Damon took her hand and pulled her close.

"I'll be careful", he promised, nuzzling his head into the nap of her neck. Damon once again placed his lips on her soft skin.

Suddenly a harsh pain made Y/N feel like in a kind of haze. She flinched and let out a groan at the same time, unintentionally biting her lower lip.

During Damon embedded his fang deeper and deeper, she started feeling dizzy. Her hands searched for the vampires upper body, finally wrapped around his neck. She needed him to lean on. A narrow trickle of blood flowed down her neck. Let Damon feed on her felt like flames licking up every fiber of her body.

With every passing second Y/N could feel her control slip away. Her body was now firmly pressed against Damon's, like she would want to merge them into one.

Damon noticed her staggering, wrapped his arms around her waist, supporting her.

Bloodlust already messed up the vampires mind, so he continued feeding on Y/N.

A tempting moan escaped her lips, but she didn't care to cover up. Y/N's heart was racing, her eyes flattering. It was almost as if he was about to push her over the edge, but in a different way. "Mmm, this...this… feels soo weird... and so good...", she whispered under a shallow breath.

As soon as Damon heard her fading voice, he abruptly

quitted drinking from her.

"Fuck!" He rapidly laid her on his lap and checked Y/N's vital signs, to make sure she was okay. Instinctively he bit his wrist, pressed it against Y/N's mouth. He knew his blood would heal her, but it wasn't going fast enough. A few seconds passed through, to him they felt like centuries. Y/N finally blinked and Damon was relieved. He cupped her cheeks, his gaze never leaving hers. "I thought, I'd gone-" Damon cleaned his throat. "I'm so glad, you are doing well", he whispered, while trailing her lips with his fingertips. "So, fuckin' glad..." The vampire exhaled a deep breath.

"It... You made me feel good. Strange, but good", Y/N appeased and flushed over the memory. "Maybe you got a little carried away, but I don't mind. I wouldn't trade the feeling for anything."

Y/N quickly interrupted herself, before she could reveal too much.

However, Damon used his vampire skills, noticing that Y/N was hiding something from him. "Isn't there anything else you want me to know?", Damon asked without taking his eyes off her. Y/N shifted and flushed even more. "It's unfair. You use your vampirism to get everything out of me."

"Well, if that were the case, I could easily compel you." Damon shrugged and found back to his smugly self. "Tell me, what you are hiding". He said in a seductive voice.

"I wanted to get lost in you."

Her confession sent shivers all over the vampires body. At first he could not decide, how to handle this. "Are you sure that's what you want? I could really hurt you..." Y/N hummed.

In the next split second, Damon pinned Y/N against a wall, smashing his lips on hers, kissing her with all the passion he had to give. The vampire devoured Y/N with a new kind of hunger. He didn't know he could crave someone so much.

"Fuck me, Damon..."

The vampire felt him getting hard, only by hearing those little three words out of her mouth.

"Say it louder. Tell me, what you want me to do."

Y/N pulled him closer, gently biting his earlobe.

"Fuck... me, Damon." It took her a second to focus and forming the words again. After she was near to climax earlier, it wasn't a long way getting to the edge once more. "Make me cum... You almost had me there..."

A deep moan got over the vampires lips, once he understood, what Y/N was trying to tell him.

With the next blink Y/N found herself in Damon's bedroom, lying on his bed.

From now on there weren't many words needed. Damon's hand's found their way under her shirt, cupping her breasts and make her moan over and over again.

He closely listened to the rhythm of her heart, making sure he would be able to delay her climax to the point he needed her to.

"Don't cum yet... I want to taste your little pussy first."

Y/N grabbed the vampires head, running her fingers through his dark hair - pushing him down, since she was unable to form a single word.

As Damon got down, he didn't take his eyes off Y/N.

He used a hand pushing up her skirt and lightly stroking over her panties with his fingertips.

"My girl is so wet", he praised in a low husky voice."-and I barely touched you."

His dirty words in combination with his touch lead to another moan, almost turned into a scream.

Damon pushed the fabric aside, leaving sloppy kisses on the inside of her thighs.

Y/N's eyes fluttered, when his soft lips reached her middle.

Damon's tongue licking around her entrance was driving her nuts.

"...so delicious..." were the only words she was able to catch up. Damon knew, he couldn't thrill her forever, so he got back to her. He spit on his palms, stroking his hand over his crotch. In under a second Y/N finally felt this releasing pressure of his cock. It was like a switch went off in her brain and she braced herself for the hard thrusts that would follow.

Damon dimmed the whining noises Y/N made with a passionate, hungry kiss.

He cheated with his vampirism to give it to her deeper and faster, knocking out all the air of her lungs while Y/N screamed out Damon's name. Her walls clenched around him and made him twitch. It was like her pussy massaged his dick the best way possible.

Every time he hit her harder and rougher he was making sure he hit her spot with every thrust.

Damon gathered speed one last time and pushed her over the edge until she was a moaning whimpering mess.

With her last contraction around his shaft, Damon was cumming inside her.

"You are so tight, little one", he whispered under his breath. "We should make arrangements more often."

Please like or/and reblog if you enjoyed reading or/and want me to write more stories about Damon.

Thanks guys ❤️

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achillieus · 4 years ago

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let you down. (sebastian stan x reader)

summary: it's a universal truth but it's worth repeating; feelings eat us raw. or just an actor and a girl falling in and out of love over the course of three months.

(this was inspired by sebastian's visit to greece for his movie, monday, and is based on that, so that means in the story we’re in 2018. also i have this posted on ao3 too but while i’m writing the last parts i thought of posting it here too)

pairing: sebastian stan x reader

warnings: alcohol, sexual references, implied depression, don’t kill me because of the ending, sebastian and reader are the definition of right person wrong time, it's kinda slowburn because i love the yearning, also this part has some funny moments but overall it’s a big SOB

part: 6/6 (there will also be an epilogue)

(other parts) (masterlist)

This is how it ends: broken hearts from crashed dreams.

Sebastian holds you until his muscles ache and your lungs burn from the feeling of too little oxygen. It is cold and dark, almost midnight, too dark, a starless night.

No more stars for you and I.

“Here,” Voice hoarse, eyes heavy-lid and itching from almost crying. He gives you one of the rings he wore in the movie. “I want you to keep this.”

Keep it close to your heart. Forget me not.

He takes a breath and a step back, tries to regain all the strength he still has, steady feet and shoulders fixed. He digs his nails into his palms, red marks in his skin, air catching in his throat, he’s on the verge of falling but he stays standing.

He remembers tears glistening down his cheeks, maybe they were yours not his, and the cold autumn wind hitting his face and he remembers feeling like he’s dying.

And then he closes the door of Argyris’ car and looks at you.

And his heart stretches and stretches and stretches and then somehow splits in half.

It goes like this:

There’s a ghost that lives in your apartment from now on. In the living room. Sitting on the couch. And it has steel blue eyes and a familiar heart. And it whispers a love story, half-finished, and you cannot make it stop.

The ghost touches your collarbone and he’s gone but there’s a ring in a golden chain around your neck and a white shirt forgotten in your laundry. And it smells like him. The clinging scent of his aftershave sticking to your pores. Eucalyptus. And no matter how hard you try to wash it off, it still lingers.

How could I ever forget someone like you?

The ghost lives here, but the place is empty, so empty. And it’s hard not to cry.

Sebastian calls and texts a lot.

He tells you he’s tired but excited because he started filming a new movie. It’s very indie and experimental, I can’t wait for you to see it. He tells you he’s missing his days in Greece like hell and that one night he dreamt of you. Didn’t want to wake up. What he doesn’t tell you is that he’s coming back in a month, Argyris needs him for some extra scenes. It’s nearly killing him but he doesn’t tell you. He wants to surprise you, see the pure light in your eyes when they’ll meet his.

You try sexting. It doesn’t go very well.

23:50, sebastian: if you were here in my bed right now what would you be doing

06:51, you: probably falling asleep hahaha

06:51, you: oh fuck was i supposed to sext back

06:51, you: sorry seb i just woke up and i have a class in an hour, love you <3

23:52, sebastian: fuck timezones

(three weeks and 10 seconds later)

“I can’t believe she doesn’t know you’re here,” Argyris shakes his head as he’s driving home from the airport, “If I were her, I’d kill you.”

“Good thing I didn’t fall in love with you.”

Sebastian laughs and looks out of the car window. The stars. There are so many stars tonight. He holds his breath; he’s finally feeling whole again. His heart isn’t split in two anymore.

You don’t know how long you stand there at your door, staring at him, but it feels like a century before he grins, almost laughs, takes your hands in his and you start considering that perhaps this isn’t a hallucination. Perhaps it’s real.

“Surprise?”

Something inside of you bursts, your organs twitch. You can’t think, you can’t speak, but you can move. You don’t lose any more time, you take a step forward, attach your bodies, your face buried in his neck, your fingers clutching into the rough fabric of his jacket. You breathe him in like an antidote.

“How?”

“Does it matter?”

“No.”

You kiss him and it’s like poetry, like art, like honey and you can’t separate yourself from him, not even hours later.

(looking back, these were the golden days)

You pretending to be mad at him for not telling you he was coming back and him pressing his lips on your skin, drawing patterns on your naked shoulder. A feathery touch.

Sebastian always touches you like you’re something made of gold and porcelain, something cherished that constantly needs to be treasured. And nobody has done that before. And you love him for it.

You try to decorate your Christmas tree together. He messes with the lights for a while, eventually gives up and goes on to eat too many reindeer shaped cookies.

He massages your muscles when you write a boring essay for college.

You go with him when he has to shoot a “driving a motorcycle naked in the centre of Athens” scene and you bite the inside of your cheeks to stop smiling like an idiot.

He gives you a dress he bought for you in New York.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

He calls you sweetheart in the mornings, still half asleep and later joins you in the shower.

“Why are you so hot?”

“Climate change”

“Oh, shut up”

It’s tender and it’s soft and it’s human.

And that’s the saddest part.

Soon you realize that him leaving two months ago was merely a rehearsal and you still haven’t said your actual goodbyes. Your chest starts to feel as if it’s full of crushed glass.

And it’s ridiculous because you fell in love with Sebastian sometime between the first ten days you spent together.

Who falls in love in ten days?

Ridiculous or not, you know you are in love with him just as you know that sooner or later, whatever he is feeling will fade and wither. Maybe it’ll be in a week, maybe it’ll be in a month, maybe in a year if you’re lucky. But there will definitely come a day when he will step out of a gala or a party or a fancy gym in New York with a beautiful model in his arms and two paparazzi’s following him around.

What will you be then?

A past small cameo in his life. A side character. Will he remember your name?

He is your whole world.

(a bottle of cheap prosecco helps you decide that)

He is your whole world.

And yet, there will come a day when he won’t even remember your name.

It was difficult. No, it was the most difficult thing you’ve ever done. Telling him how you think it’d be better if you didn’t talk after he leaves.

“I don’t agree with this.”

“Seb, it’s for the best.”

Your body doesn’t feel strong enough to carry your heart. And you’re certain it will only get worse once he’s away. The world around you will melt. You’ll obsess over a phone screen and his messages. You’ll start chasing ghosts again. You can’t handle that.

“Why?” He says urgently and his fingers dance over the flesh of your palms.

“Because this”, you motion your hand between the two of you, “is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever had in my life and I don’t want it to become ugly.”

He nods, he understands.

“I love you, you know,” he says smiling and tugs you closer to him, “And I may not be here to show you but I think I’ll love you for a long time.”

Your hand grips his waist right to the bones and something flares in your eyes, something wild that wrenches you around.

“I know, I’ll love you the same.”

“Maybe we’ll meet again.”

“Only if I’m the luckiest girl on the planet.”

He laughs and you look at him, fully aware he’ll be ripped out of your life like a page from a cheap leather notebook. And when you kiss for the last time, there’s a hole forming in your soul.

And just because endings don’t leave visible scars to one’s body and soul, that doesn’t mean the scars don’t exist. You know they do, because you feel the aching pain of every single one of them.

(every night when you close your eyes you see him)

(every night you look at the stars and think of him)

A month passes and Argyris asks you if you miss him.

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

“He said the exact same thing.”

You tell him not to mention Sebastian again.

Two months pass and you need to stop stalking his instagram profile.

Three months pass and you almost text him.

Four months pass and you go to watch Endgame with some friends and you cry. You cry when Black Widow sacrifices herself and when Iron Man smiles at his wife while dying, and when Bucky Barnes appears on screen.

The others don’t understand and you don’t blame them.

Five months pass and Argyris’ girlfriend wants you to meet someone. A charming boy your age with blonde hair and a lip piercing.

And he's cute but you compare him to Sebastian even before he has the chance to say his name. His eyes are not the right shade of blue and he doesn’t look at you like you’re made of the world’s finest jewel.

And he doesn’t know any constellation names.

And then more than a year passes in a second and you learn to not look for him. Not anymore.

It’s early March 2020 and despite the rising fear of the upcoming pandemic, you’re doing well. Scars are starting to fade. And after spending two weeks in Prague, your best friend being there with an exchange program, Sebastian Stan is the farthest thing from your mind.

Until he literally comes crashing into you. At the airport.

No, it can’t be him.

You have your suitcase on one hand and a bottle of antiseptic gel on the other. He has two bodyguards on his sides and a black hoodie on. And while half of his face is hidden behind a mask, you can see his eyes perfectly. A frozen lake in December. You would know those eyes in your deathbed, at the end of the world.

Your vision gets blurry and suddenly you feel cold.

He won’t recognize me, he can’t.

But then he looks at you and every memory you had buried inside of you resurfaces.

He motions to his guards to wait for him and he starts walking towards you. You breathe slowly, one breath at a time. He takes his mask off and you hesitate to take yours, not sure if you truly want him to see you.

You exchange the typical and very awkward hi, how are you, i’m glad you’re doing okay and then he smiles and it feels comfortable. Familiar.

It’s the whiff of another time that you always kept around. A reminder that you were once loved by a god.

“What are you doing here?”

“Filming Falcon and the Winter Soldier”

If you hadn’t unfollowed him on instagram, you’d known.

“Ah yes I heard about that, congrats.”

He nods a thank you.

“And you? In Prague?”

“I was at a friend.”

He looks conflicted, hurt, turns his gaze to his shoes on the grey cement. You want to say something, but you feel like throwing up.

And then he laughs.

“I was right.”

You’re confused, he notices.

“Back in Greece,” he swallows, “I told you this would happen.”

“It would have been an airport, different gates for each of us, but same waiting hall. Or a Greek island, where we’d both be for the summer.”

“I would have found you.”

You remember and you cannot help but smile. He was right. He found you.

“I didn’t believe you then.”

I barely believe you now.

He touches your hair. And his touch is like a knife. And you want to cry. Magnolias under your tongue. A love long lost is whispering in your ears until it hurts to listen. He’s like a magnetic field and you feel yourself drowning in him.

“I bet they’ll ask me a hundred questions about you later.” He says and looks at the two men waiting for him.

“And what will you tell them?”

“That you’re most probably the love of my life.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry.

“There’s no way we’d meet here if you’re not.”

“Sebastian,” His name sounds like a prayer coming out of your lips and you're ready to tell him you love him and you can swear he looks like he’s ready to faint, “I-”

The guards yell his name. And it's the same feeling people have just before a car crash.

“I’m sorry, I have to go.”

One last look.

Don’t cry, don’t cry.

You repeat it over and over again. But you fail.

“No, don't cry” He smiles, one last smile, “Just look at the stars and wait for us to meet again, because we will.”

He caresses the back of your palm for a second and you think your ribcage is shattering but it’s only your heart drumming frantically. Pushing your fragile bones to break.

You want to stop him, wrap your arms around his torso, never let him go. Not again. But you don’t.

You just watch him leave, one more time, your knees weak, your head heavy and dizzy. For the split of a moment he turns and glances at you but then he’s nowhere to be seen.

Perhaps it was all in your imagination. Perhaps it was nothing but a wonder.

You get into your plane and you silently sob.

And then it’s summer.

And you overhear he was seen with a girl, the day before your vacation starts and you find a picture of them together a week later, a pretty blonde girl clinging to his side with a colorful bikini somewhere in Spain. And he’s smiling. And you feel so ashamed. And so stupid.

They say time heals all wounds but they must be wrong because you can’t forget how he used to smile at you or how he used to call you the love of his life.

Was he joking when he said you'll meet again? You bet if you asked him now, he wouldn't even remember saying it.

I’ll love you for a long time.

So long for nothing.

i really appreciate feedback, it motivates me tons and also tell me if you’d like to be tagged :) also i’m really sorry if you asked me to tag you and i didn’t but i lost a lot of asks and the urls of the people that sent them :(

tagging: @lharrietg @awkward117 @dannaloureen @broccoligf @cutestfangirlvevo @caitdaniels @arymb @buckybarnesishot310 @roguesthetic @itsaliceheree @sara-1705 @dorothea-hwldr @freshfreakoaftrash @drinkfantasy @christinamcdonnell @partypoison00 @90ssantiago

#sebastianstan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #letyoudown #monday the movie #sebastian stan angst #sebastian stan x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader

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tomsrebeleyebrow · 4 years ago

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attraction | hs vampire au

moodboard made by me so don’t use pls

Pairing: Vampire!Harry x NewbornVampire!Reader

Warnings: major mention of blood, basically a slow burn with sexual tension/teasing, SMUT including unprotected sex (wrap it up before ya tap it), kids), voyeurism, oral (f receiving) and so much more, fluff and a tiny bit of angst

Word count: 10.9k (oops)

A/N: well... hi again? i guess?? 🙃 back from the dead agaaaain 🙌🏻 okay but i had a major writer block since my last one shot and oof, was it tough... but now i’m back! more relax and feeling inspired for halloween? so hope you will enjoy this special oneshot about one of my fav brit boys ❤️💞

masterlist | tag list

Somewhere near London, UK – year unknown.

Tonight was probably the worst one you ever experienced in your life – well, afterlife –, aside from being turned into a monstrous blood creature against your will just a few months ago. Despite your new inhuman abilities, the mob running and screaming after you still gains ground since you’re leaving a most vivid trail for them to follow.

Though your heart no longer has a normal pulse it feels as if each thump is excruciating pain. The obvious reason might be because you haven't been able to feed yourself properly since you've been... reborn. And so very little human blood was running through your veins because you couldn’t seem to control the hypnosis power. That’s why you’ve been sticking to animal blood but if you were honest, it didn’t give your body the same strength.

Now your body starts to grow heavier by the minute, along with a most painful throb to your fangs that threatens to turn you into a mindless monster that will slaughter aimlessly just to get fed. But that's not what you want. No. No. It may have been four or maybe five months since you could no longer be considered as normal, but still you thought of yourself as a human. And hurting any human was just not conceivable at all for you. You just couldn’t... But sometimes, even the biggest will in the world wasn’t enough anymore.

I feel so sick, I can't go on much longer...

If only these damn hunters knew I wasn't going to kill anyone...

All I wanted was some of her blood because she was alone... just a little bit...

Tears form in the corner of your eyes, feeling like a lost and hopeless child despite being in your twenties. Though you suppose you won’t age anymore now? Or maybe age in such a slow manor you will not be able to see the changes until dozens of years pass. You have no idea at all. The person whom turned you didn't even care to explain a damn thing and just left saying it would be “quite amusing to watch you struggle”.

Your fangs grit in anger just by remembering all this, remembering how and why you could have been so naive – stupid being the right word actually. Willing the tears away you jump into the nearest centenary oak on the side and climb as high as you possibly can. The leaves and branches obscure most of your body, making it easier to hide yourself as you wait in breathless silence for several long minutes. The humans bellow carry guns and crossbows, even torches with blistering fires waving in the cool British wind so hiding from them is definitely the best solution here.

They seem confuse at losing sight of you and your tracks, but the conversation you pick up with your improved hearing foretells how they believe you're still in the area. A tall man with a buff body and dirty blond hair seems the most knowledgeable and well prepared as he dictates how everyone should fan out to cover more space.

Sweat is now dripping all over your body in a way that lets you know your consciousness is going to fade if you don't feed yourself soon. So you use the little strength you have left to escape their sight, silently crawling from a branch to another to reach the next tree. Your senses are becoming dull as well and you know by now you’ll never be able to put up much of a fight if they spot you.

Since there is no one around right now, you decide it may be the best opportunity to climb down and try to get further away into the forest. However, you barely make it to the ground, crunching some leaves beneath your feet before a bullet was fired directly at you. With the quickest slam of your body to the ground, you avoid being hit. For the moment, at least.

“Don't let her get away!”

“Shoot her down! She's weak now!”

Your head shakes, body shivering in a sense of mixed cold and fear, hearing dozens of weapons getting loaded before bullets and arrows start whizzing your way, thanks the lords most of them missing you due to your astute senses. Like blondie said, you are now really weak and can’t help but fail to avoid all of them as one wooden arrow pierces through your shoulder, sending you tumbling to the floor with a screech of pain.

It hurts more than you expected it to, but you grit your teeth and yank it from your skin in one motion. The wound may not be that deep but you can feel blood oozing down your back, staining the fabric of your long dress. After forcing yourself to stand you try to keep running, but after a few steps your body succumbs to your fatigue and falls, noticing the humans have now formed a pretty wide circle around you to cut off every single path possible to escape.

If you weren't this weak and starving for blood, you could fight them off and get away but at this moment, that’s completely impossible. A man with long black hair approaches, extending his hand forward as he’s holding out a wooden cross. The closer he gets the more a headache pounds inside your head, causing you to hiss in agony, tears swelling in your eyes and claws scratching the muddy ground.

Is this the end?

I never got to really live...

I never got to properly love... Love in a way that was true and fulfilling.

A tear slides down your cheek but it's too late. Everyone readies their crossbows and guns to fire at the behest of the long raven haired man. Both of your eyes immediately clench shut, preparing for your upcoming death...

But it never came.

Suddenly, screams and several wet crunches invade your ears while your eyelids slide open the moment you feel an imposing shadow looming over your body. A broad but not too bulky back comes into view as you note a peculiar style of clothing, the vivid red suit they wear contrasting with the dark surrounding of the London outskirt. However the smell of fresh blood rushes through your nostrils, causing your eyes to pulsate and your fangs to throb hungrily.

“How dare you filthy humans attack one of my kind.”

A deep unfamiliar voice penetrates your skull, making you lift your head and discover a tall man with dark wavy hair. He slightly turns towards you, sending you a stoic yet piercing type of glare with intense scarlet pupils that causes goosebumps to bubble all over your body. You have no idea who he is but you can feel in your guts that not only he is indeed a vampire as well but that he's extremely powerful, as demonstrated from the way he dismembers two humans with the vicious dart forward and jerk of his hands. The corpses join the other four on the floor who you discover have their heads decapitated in a clean swipe, no jagged edging to the flesh around their torsos.

The imagery is whiteout a doubt disgusting to even look at, but it's even more appalling that all you can think about is how delicious all this river of bloody disaster smells and how exquisite it would be sliding down you throat. You start to salivate heavily with the madness of hunger, the extreme sensation almost completely overwhelming you but you try your best to hold yourself at bay.

“I didn't expect to see ya again thi' soon, Harry...” your blonde pursuer sighs, his facial expression clearly showing that now, tables have turned.

“I don't want to hear it" interrupts your saviour (at least you hope he is?), his intimidating hoarse voice bringing chills to everyone – you included – while still in front of you. “Leave right now, Niall or I won’t hesitate to rip off y’head too.”

The man named Harry flares all ten of his claws to life, also baring his fangs to definitely reveal that nothing of this was just for show. “'m sick of you killing my people. If they're slaughtering the humans, it would be different but this one–” He turns pointing his finger at you, “this girl hasn't killed anyone. I can smell it... You're chasin' her down for no reason.”

“T-That's not– she was attacking someone, dat's why she got caught–”

"If you speak one more word to me that isn't beggin' for your life followed by leaving, I'll rip all of your limbs before I even go for y’head.”

Harry and Niall stare each other down, the tension as shape as a knife. The human may know how to counter his vampire foe but in all likelihood with most of their numbers dead or bleeding to death, he's aware that right now he has not a single chance. And once again, cohabitation seems the only way to get out of here in one piece (hopefully).

“Fine... we'll be goin'. I know thi’ is yar territory mate, we crossed da border” Niall apologises, a hand over his chest and a small bow before telling his fellow hunters to retreat back to the city.

Though Harry isn't usually happy about letting humans go his posture is finally relaxing a bit, claws retracting as he death glares everyone down until they are no longer insight.

With a long and heaved sigh he fully turns around, finding you holding your head and gritting your fangs in disarray. It's quite clear you are probably not even aware of your surroundings, the blood shot vessels in your eyes telling the brunette your current state of hungriness. As soon as he's by your side in a blink of an eye, he bends down on his knees in front of you, pushing your own hands away so he can clutch your cheeks.

“Calm down, dear, relax your mind. Open your mouth and let me see your fangs, please.”

Though you whimper in uncertainty, that man in front of you is after all the vampire that slaughtered those humans to save you. So you still let him give a look at your small white fangs, your whole jawbone hurting as if you just got punched right in the face.

“I see they haven't grown completely... You must’ve been turned recently, am I right?”

Harry seems slightly angry, though you're not entirely sure it's directed at you but more at his findings. When he pulls back, you follow his body as he grabs a nearby severed arm and brings it back to you. His brows raise in surprise, not expecting this reaction when you whine and push it away, clearly disgusted by it.

“There’s no time to be picky anymore, darling. Y'need to stop thinkin' you're still human, so drink the blood.”

Your head slowly raises, panting as you stare right into his most mesmerising green eyes, some scarlet red from before still outlining his pupils, with your own sorrow filled orbs. Though Harry knows what that look represents, he could hold no sympathy for your lost humanity as he delicately brushes his hand through your hair before pushing the flesh into your mouth for your own good.

It only takes a second for your fight to disappear, the taste of blood that your veins and taste buds have longed for these last weeks finally flowing in your system. Like a wild beast your fangs sink deeper into the arms flesh, sucking and gulping greedily until it's nothing but a shrivelled and discolored severed limb.

The older vampire watches your irises glow with the brightness of your eye colour. In like a snap the strained vessels inside your sclera dissipate bits by bits, assuring that the wound on your back would heal after some minutes as well. Harry expected it when you flicker with your new found strength over to one of the corpses and starts bleeding it dry.

He stands here, crossing his arms over his classy red velvet suit while watching over you. Once he judges you had enough and didn't want you to become addicted in a way that would drive you insane, he carefully but still kind of strongly grab your wrist. You let a little hiss at him, defiantly, which makes him smirk in a way that lets admire his now noticeable dimples and handsome features. Within a few seconds you calm down but Harry is now holding both of your wrists in his grip

“Stay still, dear” was his command, simple yet strict so it feels like you have no choice but to obey.

After letting go of both of your hands once you calmed down, Harry cups your chin with his thumb and index finger, gently turning your head back and forth. You are not sure what the brunette is doing until he finds feint punctures on the side pale skin of you neck. The wound itself seems healed but you still have little small bruises.

“How long ago were you turned and who was it? Why are they not here watchin' over you?”

His array of questions makes you frown, wiggling free of his grasp just so you can huddle your hands around your trembling sorrow body, memories getting their way back into your brain. Memories you consider more as nightmares that keeps hunting you like a damn curse, only to remind you at each breath you take that nothing will be like it was before.

“He was... s-someone I cared about. We'd been seeing each other for a while, and then one day... H-he bit me... a-and forced his blood down my throat.” Telling the story doesn’t really make you feel any better, specially when you let Harry know that the man you trusted only wanted to watch you suffer for his own pleasure.

Seeing a newborn vampire like yourself, looking as lost and fragile as a deer into the wildness, really gets to him. Harry lived for countless centuries he forgot the exact number, but he definitely knows since day one that turning people was against the rules for the most part. At least turning someone and not helping them come into their new desires, powers and hunger. Honestly he is quite impressed you lasted so long on your own when he heard you say it has been nearly five months.

“Come this way, darlin'. The air reeks of human filth out her’.”

With a sudden but graceful turn the vampire starts walking away and finds it amusing how you scamper behind him like a lost puppy. Even your hand grabs the back of his velvety suit, like you dread the feeling of being alone. His comparison to you as newborn is not to be mean or even condescending. You are just so new to your turning that it is perfectly plausible to be scared and anxious about literally anything in your surrounding.

Harry doesn’t mind at all and pretty soon, you both are stepping deeper into the forest your attack happened for a good twenty minutes if not more. Then in front of you slowly appears what looks like a field, a large meadow embraced by the night and in its middle a quint little cottage. It looks nice and homey, but not what you first expected from a fearful creature like him.

“It's not a castle...”

The older vampire sneers at your remark and then turns to you, showing a surprisingly charming grin before pointing to the east. “My real home's far away from here, that's where the castle of y’stories will be. It's vast an' much larger than y'could possibly think, but I don't really fancy it.”

Your eyes blink curiously at him before gasping and pointing your finger in disbelief, a sudden realisation sticking your mind.

“O-Oh my god– are you from r-ro-royalty?!”

“You could say that” the brunette grins while pushing some curly locks back from his forehead. “Lord Harold Edward Styles, is what they call me. Harry for short.”

He merely cackles when your eyes start to swirl in confusion, before babbling nonstop that you didn't know and hope in the same breath with fearful eyes that he won’t kill you. Harry can’t help but frown at this, letting out a sigh.

“Come 'ere and tell me your name, dear. I have no reason to kill ya.”

For some reason, the peaceful and serious expression on his face feel trustworthy, offering his hand like a safety net he knows you need to feel secure. So after a small nibble of your bottom lip, you slowly place your petite hand in his and let him pull you inside his home.

“My name is (Y/N)... Thank you for saving me, my Lord.”

It honestly feels awkward to refer to him like that but maybe was it his rightful term? Being now a vampire yourself, you assume your “rank” is probably way lower than his so “serving” him seems... obvious, right? Yet anything that was happening since you began this new life was a matter of pure confusion to you, even more now since your new encounter with this vampire from royalty.

“You wanted to know who turned me... well, his name was Nick. I don't know if he's still around here, I'm sorry–”

“Just call me Harry, darlin’. I don't care at all for useless formalities unless y’break the rules or try to attack me.”

You viciously nod your head. Never would you do that, you still feel incredibly grateful and intimated by just being in his presence.

“The name sounds familiar as well. A fugitive whose turns 'umans against their will for dozens of years...” Harry mutters to himself, looking pissed that the enforcers in charge of catching people like that still haven't.

And so over the next few days, you learned about your new species in details and got a low down on all the rules you must do your best to follow at all costs. Harry even began to teach you about your abilities and how to tame your appetite for blood, though he commented once again that you were handling yourself well from the beginning.

Harry is for sure a mysterious man and doesn’t honestly act like someone whom is probably rightful King to the vampire’s world. It’s pretty clear he lived a long life while yours had just started. He appears to you as a ray of hopeful guidance in a world that becomes murky and malleable.

“(Y/N), dear, come 'ere.”

At his beckoning call, you place down the book you're reading and come to sit down next to him on the couch. At this point you've been staying with him in the cottage for a few months and knew what to expect when his hands approach your visage to cup your cheeks. Though it’s still a little embarrassing, but still you part your lips and let him examine your fangs like he has many times before ever since you met.

“They're just 'bout fully grown, since you've been fed regularly.”

Your head nod as his hands delicately slide away. It looks like there is something going on his mind, an internal struggle based on his body language that you get used to understand by now.

“Are you still havin' headaches and painful pulses?”

Honestly you wish to say no so he wouldn't worry. But the man likes the truth and only the truth as if the word is his middle name, and you own him that.

“Sometimes... but I'm fine right now. I thought it might be a form of withdraw?”

“You're not too far off. That piece of– person who turned ya didn't give you enough blood. Your human cells an' new vampire ones were basically fighting for dominance at the beginning, but it's clear which one will win in the end.”

Lifting his hand he uses the sharp claw of his index to slice a gash across his palm. Instantly his dark red blood pools in his grasp, before holding it out towards you.

“Drink.”

“I... c-can't?” It comes out as a question because you are indeed confused. “I mean– am I even allowed to? You're the vampire Lord after all... I–I don't want you to get in trouble–”

Harry chuckles immediately, like there isn’t a being alive that could punish him for breaking the rules. With a lift of his unharmed hand looping around your hip, he has you feeling all kind of dizzy when he clenches his fist and dripped his blood onto your plump pink lips.

“Just drink, dear. Maybe I need to start teachin' ya not to question my decisions, mmh?”

His words and your newfound position that has you sitting in his lap makes you feel bashful. You barely begin to lick your lips when the brunette lets you grab his hand to hold it up against your mouth. He feels your warm tongue lap lightly at first along his cold skin, before pursing against the wound and slowly starting to suck.

“That's it... You can sink y'fangs in if you want. The wound will heal faster than you think.”

You blink your big doe eyes at him, your face wondering without a word if all this is alright but you know Harry doesn’t want you to doubt him. Pulling back for just a second you take a breath and bare you fangs again, gently pressing into his skin enough to gulp a little more of his blood. As soon as he decides you had enough Harry pulls back and to your surprise, his wound and marks of your fangs both disappear within a few seconds.

The corners of his pale lips edge up, amused by your astonishment but he startles you with a reposition of your body before you can even realise anything. Now your legs are suddenly straddling either side of his hips, both of your hands pressing timidly at the turquoise suit covering his shoulders with confusion and shyness as the vampire brushes back your hair and leans down to your neck.

“My turn, now” his voice enticingly rasps against your skin. “We can replenish each other thi' way... though my blood is more to stabilise your vampire genes.”

Harry aires the hottest breath along your neck as he then bares his long fangs and sinks deeply into your flesh. You can’t help but gasp, but it sounds more like a moan that you aren’t completely aware of as he starts sucking your warm liquid.

“O-oh Harry–”

He smirks at your honesty, looping both of his hands around your backside. Within seconds he feels your own unsure sway, with the slow pet up against the back of his dark curls. It's been awhile since the brunette had a woman in his arms so his instincts and desires are telling him to take advantage of it.

But in the end Harry resolves against himself as you are still new to his world, and just wants to help you without adding strings. After a handful of seconds and a gulp or two of your sweet wine he pulls back, tenderly lapping up and down the holes until they heal properly and then help you sliding off his lap to make you sit next to him, catching sight of a shy blush of your cheeks and slightly faze expression.

“You shouldn't experience headaches anymore, darlin'” he begins almost too indifferently, “just don't do anything futile an' you’ll get used to bein' a vampire in no time.”

Next Harry sits up more comfortably, flattening his cream oversize pantsuits over his thighs as he side-eyes your cute expression – though is kind of displeased that you’re not looking at him anymore. But he does have to admit that teasing someone was such a nice sensation.

"I’m goin’ to make us some food, so relax in the meantime.”

You simply nod as an answer, definitely not trusting your voice since only stutters would come out if you try. But Harry doesn’t seem to pay attention to your lack of vocal answer, a satisfied expression on his face since he keeps enjoying the reactions you get over anything he does. And as much as he could simply use pressure to dominate and have you sweating in fear, all the man wants is a companion that won’t mind being at his side for awhile.

And so that's exactly who you became to the vampire.

Even after a few months and display that you were functioning perfectly as a vampire and could live on your own without trouble if you desired, you stayed. But the disheartened expression you showed him when Harry said you could leave struck a chord inside his chest. It was clear you thought he’s got tired of you or that you weren't allowed to stay with someone like him for very long because of his status.

Instantly the older vampire put a stop to any of those thoughts by saying that if you wanted to stay, you could. He wasn't kicking you out, he was only giving you the opportunity to leave and see the world by yourself. You were still a young and inexperienced vampire after all. Though the thought of traveling didn't sound like a bad idea, the year you spent with Harry up to this point had been very enjoyable. He held a most gentle yet imposing aura, which was only right since he was not just Lord in name but mostly in power. However that wasn't why you wanted to stay.

Harry had taken care of you and made you feel safe. The feeling you began to experience for him was new but somehow, you wanted to nurture the desire to be with him and make him happy if possible. The way he talked, teased, touched, held you in his grasp and let you feed off of him felt so intimate and somehow romantic.

In this respect time flew by and in a way felt like it had frozen since neither of you would show any signs of ageing. Both of you grew closer and found out that Harry was (surprisingly) a great cook, received visitors from the castle he told you about almost all the time and had a soft spot for the graceful beauty of nature. It was not that hard to tell because the brunette admitted right away that he enjoyed wandering outside the cottage, might be only to walk around or appreciate the first rays of dawn or sunset. And you could tell he took care to not trample the flowers under his steps and sometimes, you saw him watering the ones around his front porch. Some days you would even notice a new bouquet freshly gathered, settled in a Victorian style vase on the living room table. It was a small most insignificant trait, but you adored finding out those types of mannerisms.

“Harry?” you call softly with a thoughtful finger under your chin. At first you thought he was reading in his study since he had a nice little library, but the room was empty. Turning back, you check the living room and kitchen but they are both empty as well.

For a moment you wonder if he stepped out without saying – he's done it multiple times before. However you stop in front of his bedroom and get the feeling he might be taking a nap, another thing that isn’t uncommon. If he indeed is resting you don’t want to disturb him but after a small knock, you peak your head inside the room.

Low and behold there the brunette vampire is laying sprawled out on his bed, the silly thought that it should have been a coffin makes you giggle but you learned with him that many stereotypical aspects of vampires are so wrong – though it's true you can't walk in the sunlight, that crosses can cause pain and any significant damage to your body will kill you.

Now that you know he's asleep, you can't ask him what you wanted. Without getting too close you watch him sleep for a second and find his peaceful expression alleviating. Every now and then, you get the feeling the weight of the world was on his shoulders. And inside your heart, you know he was such a good man. After maybe a minute you turn back, ready to head out the room but his low and raspy voice calls out to you in a way that has you tripping over your own feet, bumping into the nearby wall.

“What is it, (Y/N)? Aren’t ya a bit clumsy, dear?” Harry snickers while sitting up, watching you rub your shoulder with a flustered expression.

From the look on your face and the way you avoid eye contact, he can clearly guess what you are bashfully unsure of if it's alright to ask of him.

“If you want to be fed, come ‘ere.”

The fact that Harry always knows what's on your mind is a little scary and reassuring at the same time because he has never used any of his power to harm you. With soft eyes, you step over to the right side of his bed and watch as he unbuttons the first few around the collar of his extravagant flowing shirt. As soon as his neck is exposed from the lacy collar, the vampire leans to the side beckoning you to take what you want without a word.

A gulp slides down your throat as you sit down on the edge of the bed. With the lift of your hands, you slowly push his pearly necklace up then press them on each of his shoulders before brushing your nose along his neck, fanning an ever soft breath against his skin with the bare of your fangs.

“I really like your personality, Harry... I-I’ve never met anyone like you.”

Your tender confession catches him off guard more than the actual prick of your fangs, not that any bite you'd already given him comes with very much force. The brunette can feel himself enjoying the way you suck his blood out of his system. It’s definitely a hard thing to play off for him right now, and it has actually been every single day you shared with him.

When you had a gulp or two you then part a little and tenderly kitten-like lap at your punctures, speeding up the healing process for him.

“... do you want to bite me as well?”

Though your cheeks are a little warm you show a most candid smile, brushing back your hair to display your neck for him just as he has done for you.

“I do, but... I'll decide where I want to bite ya. Just relax, darlin'.”

Despite a little confusion, you don’t mind the tug of your body closer to his own. Both of his unblinking emerald orbs glanced your body up and down in a way that makes you feel embarrassed. If he’s not going to bite your neck, where else is he going to sink his fangs?

The dress you have on is a simple long white off the shoulder variety that honestly displays some of your skin while still letting you look sweet and innocent. Honestly Harry likes it a lot – maybe a bit too much actually – just because he would wickedly enjoy defiling that imagery in his mind. You are a kind and sweet woman, a total sweetheart indeed, but the man already found out vividly that you liked pleasure just as much as anyone else does.

Without thinking very much his cold hand raises up against your right knee, the tail of your outfit covering it. The way you shyly bite your bottom lip with your fangs is a hell of a nice image. Harry only caresses a little bit along your inner thigh before sliding his hand under the fabric, and then rest it directly on your skin. Edging his head forward he startles you with the way he tugs down the middle of you dress with his fangs, until he can see perfectly between your cleavage.

The location Harry chose is so confusing that your frame jolts the moment the vampire sinks into your flesh. Both his hands are against your body, enjoying its shape as he gulps your sweet nectar greedily. He savours your startled grasp on his shirt but the uneven pulse he feels beneath your flesh encourages him to keep going, his now scarlet orbs flickering with heavier desire.

All it takes is another small tug to reveal your bare breasts to his lidded sight. By time you realise his lips are already pursed around the closest nipple, warmly lapping the flat of his tongue in a way that feels exquisite. Like the male vampire you quickly get caught up in the moment, leaning your head back to moan and enjoy the added fray of his hand squeezing the other breast.

For a moment, you briefly thinks about how his saliva and tongue are both so warm as they suckle and lick your skin, when his flesh is cold and pale like your own. The answer doesn’t matter specially as his fangs tease your little nub. It’s clear Harry can’t hold back no more, now sunking savagely into your mound.

“O-oh my–!”

A ripple of pure ecstasy slides all over your body, causing you to moan Harry’s name not just once but a couple of times. The pleasure is so unexpected yet your arms circle around his shoulders, curving along his fine muscles but that’s when he realises how he’s letting his lust for you take over him.

Abruptly the brunette detaches from you, a small pop making you gasp but for the most part your hazy expression questions him with such want that he has to look away for his own sanity. The unhindered view of your breasts really dulls all of his develop senses. It had been awhile since he felt such powerful sexual desire for a woman, definitely way too long since his body was apparently getting out of control and a mind of its own.

“Get out” Harry suddenly growls, making you frown and wonder what you’ve done wrong. “I didn't mean to do that– I just got caught up in trying to tease ya. If you're still hungry, go find a human.” When you don’t seem to move, still shocked at his harsh way of talking that rarely happen (in fact it never happens with you), the vampire turns his head back while flaring his menacing dark embers at you in a way that makes you tremble.

With a hurt expression you quickly cover your chest, trying to fix your dress the best you can before apologising like a hurt puppy and simply scamper at the speed of the light out of the room. Once alone, a now heavy silence settled in, Harry’s fists bowl-clawing his palms but it was the least he cared about. He didn’t mean to scare you, in fact he's been trying so hard not to use any of his powers on you.

The man is centuries older than you and shouldn't care about trivial feelings you may have, but both of you had such a good relationship since now and a part of him doesn’t want it to change... though Harry has always seen you as a beautiful woman. It’s not like he can’t admit that much at last, the man was kind of bad at expressing himself out loud most of the time. What he was most unsure about is if you really wanted him or if it was your vampire senses that tells you to submit to him like that.

With a heavy sigh he buttons his white shirt half way up, arranging his long and floating sleeves while deciding he should at least check on you. After all Harry won’t blame you for leaving if you want to create space between you two. Because now that he thinks about it, never did he ever speak to you like he did five minutes ago, and repeatedly calls himself a douche for that.

The thought quickly – and thankfully – dissipates the moment he steps into the hall and hears the running water from the shower inside your bedroom. A relived expression formed on his face, glad that you didn’t leave. Abandonment was something he was used to over the centuries and had lived through many times. It’s honestly a miracle it had been about three years at this point and you maintained a good playful relationship with each other – well, until a few moments ago.

Soundlessly, Harry edges down the hall and notices the door of your bedroom open. As he approaches towards it, he finds himself inside the room before advancing to the closed bathroom door. Now in front of it he closes his eyes and place his hand on the wooden doorframe. His senses are far more astute than your own so every subtle breath you take, movements through the water or flex of your hands as they rubbed soap against your pale body... he could picture it pretty vividly. Just imagining the curves of your body is turning him on, specially thanks to the welcomed sneak peak at your chest from earlier. His fingers silently curl around the door knob, a light voice in his head reminding him once again he should stop before reaching the point of no return, that he should leave you in peace to wash up and later and offer you a nice meal as an apology for being a complete jackass earlier.

However, he can't. His senses twinge with the soothing aroma of lavender tickling his nostrils, knowing that's the soap he got you some weeks ago. With the slowest of movement that you won’t hear nor sense if you don't focus on it, the brunette opens the door wide enough to allow him a peak through the crack.

The first thing his eyes drag over is your long dress crumpled on the floor along with a soft cotton pair of light blue panties. Without waiting a second longer he tilts up and gets a completely unhindered view of your backside. His eyes follow the dip of your spine to the soft plush curve of your ass and long legs. Just observing this much of you has him gulping down hungrily but the moment you turn, using both hands to accentuate your breasts and stomach, there is no path to return to. All Harry can do is pant an uneven breath as you sway the water over your womanly shapes, washing away the soapy sheen of bubbles and suds.

The content and relaxed hum you air echoes inside the small space of the glass shower, bringing the man goosebumps of delight like a moan without sexual inclination. The more he watches your body and the subtle move of your fingers, the more Harry can't stop his own from unzipping his pantsuit to free his cock. His strong fingers curl around his girth, slowly pumping himself up and down as he watches you bend over just a bit to let water cascade down your back. An instant burn of want invades his entire body, the desire to squeeze those fine cheeks or even offer you a naughty little spank not leaving his mind.

Harry watches your hands do exactly what he desires when they pet down your hips and accentuate the shape of your bottom, like the water feels particularly nice cascading against it. Honestly, the smirk can’t leave his face. You're incredibly and undeniably sexy in a most natural way, so why holding back? His palm squeezes the tip of his manhood with excited fervor, still watching you smile shyly at the barely noticeable bite marks on your chest. You like to an extreme when the brunette vampire bites you, there’s no denying this fact as you moaned it to him many times. And Harry has a feeling you would have let him go further if he didn’t get confused about his fantasies.

The claws of his other hand dig into the frame of the door, scratching it all up as he pumps himself with the unbearable desire he has inside his guts for you to touch him. It doesn't even have to be his cock, he'd be fine with you admiring his body like you have before or stroking through his hair with that soft content smile on your delicate pink lips.

Thoughts inside his head become more erotic when he looks up at the sound of your soft voice humming a little tune. Both of his now dark scarlet eyes end up focusing on your mouth and gritting his teeth in a haze of wanting to feel those plump appendages against his girth. The movement of your tongue and warmth of your throat he can picture so vividly bring him closer and closer to the edge with each squeeze along his base and tip.

He even finds the way you rinse your hair to be erotic because you look so whimsical. A thought of wanting to devour you in every single way possible is what officially sends him over the edge, causing him to grind his teeth and grunt your name as he comes all over his hand.

His mind is so cloudy and hazy he doesn't even care that you’ve finally noticed him. Your eyes widen in total surprise, but your complexion darkens at the lewd sight of his arousal dripping from his fingers. Your head turns away before you can implode from embarrassment, hot water still running along your naked skin. You can’t help the deepest thoughts running wild and wondering if Harry was watching you shower to eventually pleasure himself to your body while doing so.

“Don't act shy now, my dear. I'm about to join you.”

At first you blink in confusion, glancing back in his direction to watch as he shuts the bathroom door to be inside the room with you. This signature showing-dimples grin enlightens his face in a way that reveals his pearly white fangs, before letting his already oversize black pantsuits fall to the floor. Harry is pretty quick to unbutton his shirt again, the soft and almost see-through fabric sliding off his shoulder to cascade on the floor soon followed by his trousers and underpants, leaving him absolutely naked for your eyes only.

Harry is the most attractive man you've ever laid your eyes on. A tall and sculptured vampiric body that probably hasn't changed for hundreds of years. With a few steps forward the brunette is on the other side of the shower glass door and wraps his fingers around the handle, ready to erase any distance separating you both. He pauses his movement for a few seconds, letting both of you take in each other’s new found appearance and what might be about to happen.

“If I join you, (Y/N)” begins Harry almost in a whisper, his eyes never leaving yours, “... I won’t ever be able to leave ya alone.”

Your eyes rise in surprise, his expression reflective of how serious he was being. For a second or two you turn away, your hands covering your face which is giving him the impression you might be having second thoughts. Though the croak of your voice and the tender expression you offer when you slowly spin back proves how you've been able to constantly surprise him these past years.

“Is that a promise?"

Without a second thought Harry is right by your side and looming over you in a possessive dominating way. Both of his hands pet along the warm and wet edge of your stomach, before gripping your hips and tugging you completely into his body. Without pretence his expression represents just how much he enjoys your whole and can’t wait but brush some of your hair sticked on your face, assuring you he can't wait another second to kiss you.

The distance between you both closes with the warmest capture of your lips that quickly becomes some passionate tongue action. It honestly feels that divine you couldn't stop yourself from moaning into the kiss. The warmth of the water doubles nicely the little fire forming inside your guts, in a way that affirms you’ve never felt such a discombobulating kiss before.

Right away Harry greedily begins stroking, groping and petting every single supple curve your body has to offer. Even your own hands note the nice shape of his back and every defined dreamy muscle. His lips curve up as he tugs playfully at your bottom lip, the gentle way you appreciate his shape really has him feeling some type of way.

“Give yourself to me, darlin’, this time I won’t be holdin’ back.”

The air of his wanting rasp meets the underside of your chin, of which Harry is currently kissing his way down. With a press of both his hands on your lower back he has you arching and moaning as he licks between your breasts. When the vampire starts to nip at your plush skin, it’s even more overwhelming because not only is he pursing his lips but his tongue is gliding all over you. The flat of his wet muscle makes sure to whirl around the ridge of your nipple, assuring it’s perfectly erect before nibbling on it with his fangs.

“Oh Harry, that feels so good...”

Hearing your honest pleasure encourages him to absolutely cover your breasts in love bites both a literal and physical way, each mark more blissful than the next. Your mind becomes so consumed you don’t even know Harry is backing you up until you meet with the wet and slightly cold tiles.

Just looking up to admire the shower water perfectly cascading over his rippling muscles – his weirdly yet attractive inked skin on full display and usual necklaces in place – is the most blessed image you could wish for. This Adonis of a man looks so perfect that you lean up to offer him your own slow and sensual desire filled kiss. Little do you know he enjoys your initiative, specially since you’re kitty licking around his tongue.

Slowly Harry begins to take over such as his more dominate nature, but you oh so don’t mind. In fact you’re getting lost in the way his strong hands fondle and squish your chest. The thumb of his left hand even circled around the perky tip, while his middle and index on his other give you some slow pinches like he’s determined to have you mewling into his mouth.

“I must ‘ave been out of my mind to wait three fuckin’ years to ‘ave you...” Harry growls while baring his fangs, pressing into the top area of your shoulder. The bite he gives isn’t even painful since the puncture is slow and the suckle he drinks your blood feels so pleasurable.

“H-Harry, I’ve never felt any pain w-when you bite me” you start, stuttering from all his attention on you. “I-I thought I was weird, b-but I can't help but want so much more...”

Harry’s lips curve up against your skin as you let a louder and more frequent moan, not only because the vampire leaves deep red hickeys on your neck and collarbones, but because his hand slides down to rest between your legs.

The moment you sense it outlining your womanhood, you arch your back while clutching your hands tightly around his shoulders. Without waiting his index and middle finger caress your lower lips for just a second or two, before encouraging your legs to spread further apart so Harry can thrust them effortlessly into your core.

“A-ah– feels so good!”

Enraptured by your praise, Harry increases his rhythm and feels the thump of your slow heartbeat. His own is probably pulsing in the same way, it's been so long since the man felt this exhilarated. With a caress at your hip for you to steady, the wobble your legs frays at his kisses all over your breasts and even a slippery curl with his tongue down to your belly button.

By the time you try to follow what’s happening, the brunette is already on his knees between your legs, kissing nonstop at your inner thighs. Out of the corner of his eye you can tell Harry is actually watching himself glide his fingers in and out of your slippery folds. It should be embarrassing, but you find that more thrilling than anything else. He’s so passionate as a lover, the attention he gives being excruciatingly euphoric whatever he does.

“Earlier” his raspy voice mumbles against your thigh before he proceeds, “I was so tempted to push y'down an’ bite your thigh...”

As he licks hungrily at your skin, you recall how he caressed up your upper leg earlier, the touch offered when you woke him up was oddly intimate. It made you bashful since it was so sudden, but if he had done as he wanted you wouldn't have stopped him.

“Now I’ve a second chance... so don't mind if I do, darlin’.”

Your chest heaves with the warmth bubbling all over your skin as you watch the bare of his pointy sharp fangs and the immediate pierce into your inner thigh. A loud moan echoes around the shower, the vibrations prickling Harry’s ears and assuring he won’t part from your delectable flesh until he gives you his most vivid love bite.

Your head shakes at how all consuming the pleasure you’re gladly receiving feels. And as he sucks the sweet blood from your thigh, he doesn’t hesitate to add a third finger into your fold, now working a pace that lets you know in accurate detail that you're indeed incredibly wet. It’s not just the shower anymore, both of you know this for a fact. By now you have no problem admitting you’re turned on like a thousand lightbulbs.

“Your smell’s drivin’ me insane...!” came his lidded snarl, some little blood dripping down his chin but quickly washed away by the shower. Harry is darting for your womanhood like a famished animal, the instant curl of his fingers along your slit having you whimpering and yanking at his wet hair a bit too hard.

“F-fuck– I’m sorry Harry” you whimper out your sincere apologise along with a moan, the back of your head bumping on the tile wall as if the king of vampires like the one kneeling between your legs could get hurt from such a small type of friction. “It feels like I-I can't breath– feels so good!”

"If you're that out of it, y'can be rougher...”

His warm breath hazes over the sensitive bead of your clit, making you convulse in pleasurable disarray. With his hands taking a fist full of your ass, Harry pushes you deeper against his tongue to then curl it up and down. The sensation of him lapping against your slick inner walls has you seeing stars, knowing a man has never eaten you out so hungrily before.

With the constant pant of your moans filling the primal space inside his head, there is only one and simple desire he has: to make you cum on his tongue and no matter what, he will not pull away until you do. It’s more rewarding than you'll ever know to have your writhing body in his grasp, not just your trembling legs when he had the chance to have you innocently straddle him, but the arousal coating his lips and the subtle desire filled push of your hands that want him even deeper inside you were exciting in a maddening way.

“A-ah please Harry, I c-can't–!”

You are barely able to tell him how close you’re feeling right now, as drool ebbs heavily down your lips. Harry is already aware though because of the curl of your fingers, each tugging at his hair in your peak of utmost disorienting pleasure.

With a gentle pat over your soft wet body, he squishes both of your breasts and thrusts his red muscle in a most detail oriented type of way. Your praises grow in frequency as well, telling him how utterly euphoric you feels and how hot the knot in your stomach makes your skin burn, bringing you closer to your end. Everything kinda rushes to the tipping point with a pinch to your buds, causing the instant convulse of your folds and drench of your fluids flow down his chin, assuring the fangs in his mouth are vividly pulsating.

It takes everything not to sink in to your most sensitive body part. Harry manages to calm himself down with the caress of your hands falling limp, feeling one curve around his ear to hold him gently where he is. With the thought of how much he needs to claim you, the brunette gulps down your nectar and even laps the slippery sheen coating your slit.

As he raises back up to stand, all it takes is a small hazy blink for you to miss completely the way Harry yanks up both of your legs and positioned you right against his cock. “’m gonna take you hard an' fast– can't wait another second to make y'mine.”

Your lips part but all you’re able to say is a pant of his name, while coiling tightly around his neck and nodding your head.

“Have all of me, take me Harry–”

The vampire most certainly doesn’t have to be told twice, so without hesitation he thrusts deeply into your slippery folds. His speed is just as instantaneous as the pleasure you start to drown in. You never knew your voice could go so loud and high pitched until a man with much vigour and strength named Harry came along, thrusting his hips in a way that fills you to the brim with every movement he makes.

“S-Shit you're so fuckin' wet– so tight ‘round me, only for me–”

His fangs are on domineering display, getting off on your pleasurable honesty just as much as the throb of your tight folds. You don’t get to see his expression though as you leaned your head back again but this time caused by a every aggressive slam of your ass on his thighs. That gives him the perfect opportunity to enjoy your neck, so the vampire doesn��t mind.

Each electrifying kiss left on your skin feels exceptional, every sway of his hips lets you know he’s a well endowed man and quite honestly just being in his arms has you feeling this way. This man didn't have to save you or take you in and just could have gotten rid of your at any time. But the instant he's allowed you to stay and gave you a comforting space to get used to your knew desires and vampiric body.

There is a part of you that wishes you still has a conventional heartbeat just so you could feel how erratic it could be thundering against your ribcage. However, even without a human heartbeat you still knew you were excited beyond all belief. Just being able to run your hands along his shoulders, maybe even brush up against the back of his head has you feel like his long time lover.

“Fuck, I can't get enough of ya” Harry suddenly growls in madness, dropping one of your legs back against the floor while he pulled the other higher up and hold your thigh, basically watching himself rammed his thick cock into your body. There’re not a single word forming on the tip of your tongue other than whimpers and mewls of ecstasy.

His speed and precision to hit your most sensitive spots are probably only possible due to his improved senses and longevity. No doubt in your mind Harry probably had many past lovers before you but you don’t really care. He always tells you to live in the moment and not muddle through just because of your past.

“You're now a vampire, (Y/N). Act like one for your own sake.”

These are the words he told you over the past shared years together, which became your mantra to feel validated in your new life. Speaking of your new desires, your fangs are constantly throbbing and pulsating for the past minute, reason why your eyes have been glued to his neck and shoulder ever since. The need to bite him is so overwhelming that you simply don’t care to ask before diving forward to sink deeply into the space right bellow his ear.

“H-hah, y'little vixen– that feels so damn good, have your fill” the brunette encourages you with no malice but utter pleasure.

In fact he’s enjoying the twinge of your fangs so much his fervour keeps increasing. His hips edge even closer while his clawed hand takes a hold of your waist and starts slapping at your inner thighs in a way that have your arousal dripping profusely onto the shower floor.

You can’t stop yourself from moaning against his skin or salivating heavily as you absorb down his delectable blood. You swear his nectar tastes even more delicious then it ever has before, like the most finest aged wine. It's a thought you can barely focus on as you suddenly toss your head back, feeling yourself reach a most blissful end.

The moment Harry senses your insides clench repeatedly, he shoves his tongue down your throat and becomes enraptured in the way you meet his every slapping movements. Heavy saliva from both of you mixes together, dripping profusely down your chin as soon as you feels the deeply penetrating thrust of his cock slam into your womb. His arousal fills you to the brim in a way that makes you drift through euphoria.

After some time the brunette parts from your kissed swollen lips, a thin sheen of saliva still connects you together before quickly breaking when he licks his fine pale lips. The vampire smirks at you in complete satisfaction while ever slowly edging his girth away from your wall, not without admiring how thickly coated in your juices his manhood is. Maybe Harry even salaciously admires the dribble of your combined arousal from your slit, but it’s clear you are feeling utterly spent and can only keep yourself up by pressing a bit at his chest and shoulders, leaning your back against the tiles behind you.

With a soft expression that suits him so heavenly, Harry tenderly strokes his hands up your body while admiring once again the plush shape of your stomach, breasts and the slender trail up your neck to cup your soft cheeks. The smile you give him proves he’s offering all the affection he is able of with the sensual touch of your lips with his. This kiss is the slowest and most romantic you ever felt from him yet, while the brunette lifts you in his arms properly again before pulling away from the kiss.

“I'll help you dry off, dear. ‘think we've soaked in the shower long enough.”

“Thank you Harry” you thank him with a slight smile, your cheeks nuzzled into his wet chest before placing a kiss there that has him avoiding your gaze and wondering where a romance like this has been all his long life.

You sit still once he settles you on the sink counter, wiggling cutely as he dries you off with purposeful caresses of your more intimate body parts. When he also dries himself both of you get dressed – you into the long nightdress you took before your shower and him back in his oversized pantsuits only. Afterwards, you take his hand as Harry walks you both out of your bathroom. It’s clear you wish for him to lay with you in your nearby bed but he hesitates at the edge of it, looking towards your still wide open door. It seems like Harry wants to escape but that’s not it at all. He is looking towards his study at the other side of the hallway where an item he had hidden was secretly and well kept.

“I'll be right back– hey, don't make that face, darlin’... I'll lay with ya when I come back.”

You lean into the palm of his warm hand that softly strokes your cheek, adding a hopeful nod. Your soft eyes trail behind his tall figure as Harry steps out into the hall, leaving your door cracked open behind him. With a little doubt forming in your heart you lay on the silk mattress of your bed and turn, rolling back and forth like a restless child waiting for time to fly as fast as possible.

It took him longer than he wanted as he struggled with whether this was the right thing to do or completely the opposite, tons of questions invading his mind: did you want him as much as he wanted you, and so should he trust you with a secret only a handful of the Royal vampires know? His hundreds of years differs so greatly from your barely twenty-five-ish ones. The brunette keeps rushing his thoughts because first, he wants you to be happy and second, he doesn’t want to be alone anymore.

With the item in his hands, Harry clenches his fingers tightly around it and makes his way back to your side. As he enters the silent room, smelling some faint aroma of lavender from your previous shared (hot) shower, you’re actually snoring softly while sprawled out in a way that takes up nearly the entire bed, which makes the brunette slightly chuckles at how silly yet adorable you are. He shakes his head with the soft expression you love so much on him, effortlessly scooting you further to one side before climbing in next to you.

For a couple of minutes Harry strokes your hair and caresses your skin, before taking your right hand and placing on your fourth finger a gold ring with a glimmering ruby jewel in its middle. Your eyes flicker open at the feeling, followed by a small yawn while watching the careful placement of your new jewellery with a bashful smile.

“... Are you asking me to marry you, Harry?”

His emerald eyes open wide in shock, skin darkening more than you thought a creature like him was capable of. Instantly the brunette uses your palm to cover his face and slowly shakes his head, the white pearl of his necklace softly jiggling around his neck at this. The breath from his parted lips tickles your skin and honestly makes you fall at peace.

“N-no– well n-not yet at least, uh–” Harry stutters, still hiding his face with your hand. He clears his throat before continuing “though this is my gift to you, love.”

You can’t see the way he actually bites his bottom lip, but your eyes notice both his hands covered in rings that he always wears. And one catches your attention, the one with a similar ruby jewel in the middle yet of a different shape.

“This will allow ya to walk 'round in the sunlight, this way it will no longer cause you any harm, my dear.”

“Really? But you said that it would always hurt...?”

“Without an amulet blessed an’ enchanted by a powerful witch, the sunlight will cause us vampires harm. That’s why you must always wear it.”

Harry lowers your combined hands so you’re finally able to see the serious expression on his face. “You must never tell anyone abou' this. Not a single soul, vampire or human alike, my dear. No one.”

“I would never cause you trouble, Harry. And I promise I'll take this secret to my grave” you respond back, arms sliding around his hips like a silent wish to lay your head against his bare torso, a motion which your lover gladly welcomes by sliding his fingers through your hair.

With a thankful smile you get comfortable, closing your eyes in hopes to snuggle with him while you sleep.

“People will not question it if y’tell them you were sired by me” proceeds the brunette vampire abasing your hair, fingers still entangled in your soft locks to massage your scalp. “It's a misconception tha' pure royal vampires are born immune to the hurtful rays of sunlight... Most of our kind think a person turned by us will also be immune.”

“I wish... I had been turned by you” you let out in a whisper while keeping your face nuzzle against Harry’s chest. “I want to be with you for as long as I'm able to.”

The vampire can’t resist but leave feather-like kisses on your forehead and hairline, your confession definitely making him feel... alive. His hot breath hitting your skin gently soothe you and so are his kisses, the sudden brush of his nose against your face bringing a delightful giggle out of you which Harry would never get tired of.

“Maybe I'll be the one to ask you to marry me, who knows...” you add, your index finger sliding over his pearl necklace with a define grin on your face.

No words could describe how you make Harry feel. Never has he been more grateful for the quick way you fall asleep just so he could hug you tightly against him. Maybe later, he will be able to tell you that, as surprising as that may sound, the man has never been married in his long life either. There has never been someone this special to him to go for it. It's indeed hard to say if Harry wants to make that commitment with you at this point either the thing he’s sure of is his wish - no, his desire to be with you. Forever.

“Good night, my love... Maybe tomorrow I’ll take ya to the castle y’ask me about all the time.”

* * *

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teamxdark · 4 years ago

Text

They say the pen is mightier than the sword...

My Dearest Arthur,

Today, as I was heading back to the castle, Galahad stopped me. He pointed out a bird, small and blue like the sky, drinking from a puddle on the ground. We both stopped, watching it as it drank its fill, stretched its wings, and flew away.

It made me think of you.

My love, you try so hard to be the best leader for us all. You do it without complaint, struggling with the problems of a populace, making the decisions that a lesser being wouldn't dare consider. I know how much this burden crushes you, but all the same, I cannot for the life of me think of anyone more worthy than you to hold such power.

I have heard the complaints of those who disagree with your choices. They throw about opinions without care for consequences. They know nothing of the thought you put into every decision you make, and every time I hear some scoundrel run their mouth about how they would do better than you, I feel the urge to silence them, with my words or my blade, I care not which.

The things you do to me, my love...

Yes, you are the most worthy king, of that, I am certain, but you are also the most deserving of the freedom you crave. I see it, Arthur. I see the way you stare out the window, into the sky, beyond the clouds, with such profound longing that I know and understand all too well. It is enough to make a man weep.

...I have wept, I must admit. For you, and over you. If I could grant you your freedom, I would do so in a heartbeat, even if it meant that you would be gone, leaving like that bird, flying away without a backwards glance and never looking back. My grief at your absence would only be assuaged by the knowledge that you are finally unburdened. That you are happy.

Sometimes, I like to imagine that you take me with you. I imagine your hand in mine, and your smile reaching your eyes, the portrait of joy that should never have left your face, and I follow you, just as I have vowed, to the ends of the earth and into the world beyond this life.

I know it is selfish. I know it is impossible. You, Arthur, are the most selfless man I know. I have seen you grow over many years, becoming more and more responsible with time and experience. It is I who has become selfish. It is I who indulges these fantasies of taking you away to bask in your brilliance that I can never get enough of. But you could never betray your people. You could never say yes to a premature freedom. You will not be king forever, and this we both know, and you are willing to wait for the end of your reign while I still imagine ripping you from this life without a care for those that remain behind.

My desires are inconsiderate, not just to you, but to everything you've worked for. To everyone who needs you. To those who need me, too.

I shall never be worthy of you, Arthur, but my heart shall never beat for anyone else in the way it does for you.

Forever yours,

Lancelot

...

Darling Arthur,

Do you remember when we were young? Do you remember when we were but boys, training until we were collapsed on the ground, day after day?

Do you remember the first time you called me 'Lance'?

I hated it back then. I warned you to never call me anything but 'Lancelot' again, for it was my name. It was the name my mother had given me, my mother who saved me and chose me before I even knew how to walk. My name was my link to her, an important part of my identity and my proof of being wanted.

I was, truly, a stupid child.

Now, I treasure the name you gave to me. I do not allow anyone else to use it. 'Lance' is the name you bestowed upon me, a name to signify our own link, our bond... one so close that it makes me dizzy with happiness when I remember just how much we mean to each other. I now hold that name close to my heart, next to my mother's 'Lancelot' and my son's 'Father'.

It pains me that I do not have such a name to give you, my love, save for the endearments in these letters that I shall never send. Yet I never miss how blissful you look when I call you by your given name. You appear unhappy by 'Your Majesty'. You appear troubled by 'my liege'. You appear vexed by 'Sire'.

And so, when I am able, I call you by your name. I call you my friend, so that you know that I love you and that you mean the world to me. You always have, even before my feelings shifted into what they are now.

I see you smile and it is as if I have been struck by lightning. I hear you laugh and I fear I might swoon. If I do even one thing to make you happy, I feel as though I am walking on air, and I wish to do it again, and again, and again, over and over, endless until you never know pain again.

Arthur, the way I feel for you consumes me, like a fire that will never go out. My feelings scorch me, leaving burns and scars that will never fully go away, hidden on the inside where you will never see them. You will never truly know just how deeply this arrow from Cupid's bow has pierced me... I dare say he's emptied his quiver on me, for the mere thought of life without you, without your smile, your warmth, your brilliance, your bravery, your understanding, without you and everything that you are...

I don't dare tell you about these newer feelings of mine. I know you, and I know you will not treat me any different if my particular type of love for you does not match that of yours for me, but my head is clouded by fear. I cannot stop imagining that you shall become uncomfortable in my presence, that you will hold me away at arm's length, that you will look for someone else to court in an attempt to help me move on... All the possibilities are so painful, Arthur. I would rather nothing changed, even though I know my fear is irrational. I should believe in our bond, trust in our friendship, rely on the knowledge that you would never push me away...

I am a coward, my love. To be called the Ultimate Knight feels like a joke, for I am so afraid that I cannot listen to the logic in my own head. My strength of body means nothing if my strength of mind is as fragile as glass.

Yet, even as I long for something different in my relationship with you, I cannot say that I am unhappy with what I do have with you. Perhaps this, too, is why I will not speak these words nor send these letters, for what I already have with you, such a close, personal friendship, is more than I can ask for.

You have always been enough for me, Arthur.

Eternally yours,

Lancelot

...

Glorious Arthur,

I must apologize. I must, for I fear my mind is spinning out of my own control.

Every day I think of you. Every morning when I wake up, every night as I go to sleep, in every spare moment of my life, you are in my waking thoughts.

You haunt my dreams, too. At all moments, it seems, my mind conspires against me. All I want is to be happy with what I have with you, but it appears my desires are only growing, not fading, with time, and they eat me alive with every passing day.

I imagine your forehead against mine, with your hands on my waist. You lift your head, kissing me once on each eyelid, and I feel weaker than I ever have in my life.

I imagine your hands, removing my armor so that they may rest upon me, touching my back, my shoulders, my chest, all areas that I keep guarded under steel and promises. You disarm me, and I allow it. My foolish heart wishes to be vulnerable before you, for I know I will always be able to trust you with myself.

I imagine the lightest touches on my arms, spreading like trails of fire as your fingers slide along my person, and I let myself be consumed.

I imagine your lips pressing to mine, and I lose the ability to breathe.

I imagine your eyes, looking into mine, glowing with care and love and happiness, and I drown without a second thought.

Sometimes I dream of things I dare not write down here, my sweet, for it makes my face burn and my heart race and all I want to do is apologize for thinking of you in such a way. It feels terrible, as though I am taking advantage of you in my thoughts, and I fear that one day you will discover the fantasies of my mind and feel discomfort or disgusted by me.

If I ever lost you, Arthur, I know my world would shatter, and I would never become whole again.

Apologetically yours,

Lancelot

...

Arthur,

I can't stand it. Today, I cannot stand it at all.

I feel desperate, like a caged animal. I feel my soul clawing at my body from within, needing to come out and indulge. My composure is in shambles, my mind is in disarray, and though you are not at fault, it is all because of you.

Arthur, I burn for you. My heart screams and cries out and it's painful. Every inch of me aches for the smallest touch, I long for the basest of acknowledgement from you, a look, a word, a smile, Chaos, anything! Just the thought of you giving me your attention sends me into a fit, and I know that even the brush of your arm against mine as you pass me in the corridor would be enough to bring me to ecstasy!

My head is pounding, my ears playing and replaying the sound of my name coming from your lips, and I crave it. I crave you, my love, and it has never been so powerful or so consuming before. I don't know what is wrong with me. I don't know why today is the day that I might go mad. I am afraid, Arthur. I am afraid that my need for you is pushing me to the brink of madness and that I will not be able to stop myself from jumping down into it.

Arthur, the love of my life, how can I even begin to fully describe this? I've written so much and yet it is only a crumb of what is flaring inside me. I think of you and I burn up. You are not an inferno, for that is a small candle compared to the one that burns inside me. You are nothing less than the sun in the sky, approaching me to incinerate me in an instant, but even that feels like a pale comparison today.

Arthur, I am deeply sorry, but I fear writing this is only making things worse. I must stop before I

...

My love,

My upcoming mission to Acorn Kingdom is fast approaching. Soon it will be time for me to depart. I hope that, when that day comes, you are not too busy to see me off.

I will miss you terribly while I am gone, but I take peace in knowing that I am doing this for Avalon, and for you. To make this world a better place, and for you to have one less thing to worry about.

It's pathetic, is it not? As a knight, I should be focusing on the best for my kingdom, as I vowed to when you first let Caliburn descend upon my shoulders and gave to me my title, and yet I know the truth.

It's for you, Arthur. It's always been for you.

...

In his study, the king shoves away the stack of letters, his face burning as a chorus of emotion swells within him, unable to take the guilt at having read so many of Lancelot's secret letters. His hands tremble as he searches around his desk for something to write with.

...

Dear Lancelot,

My wonderful Lancelot,

To Lance,

My dearest

Lance,

Please come see me when you have a moment to yourself. Do not be afraid.

Yours,

Arthur

#I wrote this on a note app while on a train so it is what it is.#Arthurlot.#Avalon Series.

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volturicangetit · 4 years ago

Text

F.D- I love you

Summary: You are the receptionist for the Volturi with a crush on one of their guards, Felix. When you find out that you’re his mate, you don’t believe him.

Request: YES/no @bugmanor: Hello! Would you be able to do something with Felix Volturi? Like the reader is the new receptionist and Felix mate but she doesn’t know yet and he winks at her often but she’s hella clueless and just thinks he’s being nice until he actually tells her? Love your writing, thank you so much ❤️❤️

A/N: I changed the idea a bit, I hope you don’t mind.

Warnings: mention of blood

Wordcount: 1965

Every day at your job could be your last. You knew what you were getting into. Any typo, miss-step or small mistake could mean getting used like a blood bag by one of the many hungry vampires in the castle. Since you didn't want to die at the hands of an undead-creature, you made sure to be perfect at your job. Everything had to be in order. Every letter got triple checked for typos. Every surface you worked on got cleaned every hour. You couldn't make a mistake when it could mean the end of your life. "Y/n," you look up at the voice. It's Felix. You let the tension in your shoulders go. If anyone else was standing at your desk, you would nearly have had a panic attack. But Felix wasn't like them. He was kind and understanding that you were human and prone to make mistakes.

"Do you know how to get blood stains out of a rug?" he asks. Of course, you did. You spent months researching how to get bloodstains out of any fabric possible. You nod as you quickly put the letter you were writing away. "Great, in the throne room," he says. You nod as you follow him. You keep your head down and make sure not to look at any vampire you pass by. You heard that the last receptionist got killed for giving someone a wrong look. "How are you?" Felix asks. You look up at him. "Everything good?". You nod.

"Yeah, a-all good. Just, you know, a little tired," you say in a hushed voice. Felix nods and sends you one of his famous smiles. Butterflies erupt in your stomach. "Do you have trouble sleeping?" he asks. He places a hand on your shoulder to steer you around the corner. Although his hand is cold, your skin under his touch still feels like it's on fire. "The was a feeding last night," you say. You slept in the castle. It was easier. You could work laster hours and start earlier. The kings gave you a room up int the tower, the only room where the sun shined during the day. Felix nods understandingly. He was feeding as well, you could hear it. They fed themselves every two weeks but if they had a mission or a fight coming up, they would feed more frequently. "You still look pretty, even with bags under your eyes," he says. He stops in front of the throneroom's doors. He removes his hand from your shoulder and opens the doors for you. Inside, you can see a vampire sitting on its knees.

Aro's hands are on the back of their head. In one swift movement, he rips the head off the vampire. You let out a gasp as you place a hand over your mouth. Aro drops the head and whips his hands on a handkerchief while Demitri drags away the lifeless body. "Ah, young Y/n," Aro says. You nod as you remove your hand from your mouth. You walk forward until you're only a couple of meters away from the kings. "I-I heard there was a stain," you say softly.

A smile spreads on Aro's face as he points to the rug laying on the steps leading to their thrones. They had asked you to place it there only a week ago. A dark red spot contrasts the cream colour of the fabric. You nod as you walk over to the stain and crouch down in front of it. You run your fingers over the spot. It's still wet. "I can clean it," you say. You look up at the kings. Your eyes dart between them. "But I need to take it with me n-now. Or the....blood...will dry.".

Aro looks over at Felix who nods and walks over to you. He rolls the rug up and props it upon his shoulder. Of course, he would come with you, he's the strongest one after all. "How long will it take?" Caius asks. "Maybe 30 minutes, but it does need to dry, sir," you say. A smirk spreads on his lips at the title. He nods as waves you away. You mutter out a thank you as you quickly make your way out of the room. You hold the door open for Felix to which he thanks you.

___ "Are you sure you're just human?" Felix asks. You nod. "Because what you're doing is like magic!". He points at the rug. You can't even tell that the stain was ever there. You smile at him. "I just had a lot of practice," you say softly. While you're still hunched over the carpet, wiping the last bits of salt of it, Felix sits down in your chair. He spins around in it for a bit. He can smell you on it. Sweet and human. You two remain silent as he starts rummaging through your desk. You want to tell him to stop but you're afraid to say the wrong thing so you just keep quiet.

"What are you doing tonight?" Felix suddenly asks. You shrug as you look up at him. "I...I guess sleep?" you say. Felix laughs as he shakes his head. He stands up out of the chair and walks over to you. He leans down a bit so that he is on your eye level. "Do you want to hike with me? I think you'll look beautiful in the moonlight," he asks. Hiking. At night. In the dark. All alone. With a vampire. Yep, you're going to die tonight. You still nod at him though, you can't say no to a vampire.

"S-sure but I can't stay out until late," you say. "I have to work tomorrow." You had to work every day. There were no vacation days when you are working for vampires. Felix nods as he stands up straight again. "I'll grab you some dinner too, sometimes sweet like you," he says before running off. You stand there shocked for a moment before continuing with the rug. Did he just ask you out on a date? No, it's just a hike, although you hoped it would be more. ____ The fresh air is doing you good. You didn't get out of the stuffy castle walls much, if at all. The only times you could get outside was when you had to organize another 'tour'. All though the sun is long gone its warmth is still drifting in the air. You didn't need to wear a jacket or long sleeves. The moon lights up the path enough for you two to see. Felix as one arm wrapped around your waist. He said it was to make sure you didn't step off the path since your human eyes still can't see as well as his vampire ones in the dark. You had thanked him for it. The city looks surreal at night. The normally busy streets are now silent. The only people outside are some vampires looking for a late-night snack. None of the even dare to come close to you, though. They know better than to kill the Volturi's receptionist. "Have you ever been in love?" Felix asks. You nod at him.

"Yeah, of course, I have," you say. "Have you?". Felix nods. Many times in his past. He had a wife before he was made into a gladiator. Then, when fighting lions and other people, his marriage took a toll on it. When Aro turned him, love was the last thing he could do with a human. "Are you in love now?" he asks. Your cheeks heat up at the question. You look down at your feet and then up at the stary night sky. You nod. "Maybe, I don't know," you say. "I wouldn't call it love but....there is someone," you say. You immediately slap yourself mentally. Why did you say that? You should have kept your mouth shut, now he's going to want to know who it is. You can't just say "yeah you only see me as food but I love you so wanna go out?".

"Me too," he says. "But I know it's love.". You look up at him. He winks at you to which you quickly look down again. You nod. His grip on you tightens a bit. He points at a bench a couple of meters away. "Let's sit there.". You nod. With quick steps, you reach the bench. You duck out and away from Felix's arm and sit down. He sits down next to you and lets his hand sit on your thigh. You let out a shaky breath as his hand stays in place. With his free hand, he points up at the sky. "See that? That bright one?" he asks. You follow his finger up in the sky. A bright star looks down on you. You know it's in Orion. You took an astronomy class once where you learned all the constellations. You nod at Felix. "That's Sirius. The brightest star in the sky.".

You two sit there for a bit, looking up at the sky and pointing out constellations to each other. You point up at the sky. "That's the big bear, right?" you ask. You look over at Felix for confirmation. Instead of answering you, he grabs your hand that's in the air and wraps his fingers around it. He turns so that he's fully facing you. "Do you believe in soulmates?" he asks. You sit in silence a bit before nodding. "Maybe. I w-wouldn't have in the past. But now I'm working for....vampires. So a-anything is possible, I guess," you say. A smile spreads over Felix's lips as he leans in closer to you. He's going to kill me. All you can think about is how painful it will be when his teeth sink into your neck. You close your eyes and wait for him to get it over with. But the piercing pain never comes. You open your eyes to see Felix looking anywhere but you. "I think you're my mate," he whispers. He shakes his head. "No, I know you're my mate.". Mate. You're his mate?. "What?" you ask softly. Your voice is barely above a whisper but Felix can still hear you loud and clear.

"It's a vampire thing. A soul that fits ours perfectly," he explains. He grabs your other hand and starts rubbing slow circles on the tops of them with his thumbs. His action calms your nerves. "Someone who completes us.". You nod. You're his mate. Someone who completes his damned soul. "Are you going to....going to kill me now?" you ask. Felix's features soften. He quickly shakes his head and pulls your hand up against his chest, where his heart is. "No, never. I could never hurt you," he says in a soft tone. You nod your head. You can feel tears building up in your eyes. You don't stop them when they start to rush down your cheeks. "Did I do something wrong?" Felix asks. You shake your head and pull your hands out of his grasp before pulling him in for a hug. He immediately calms down in your touch. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer to him. He takes you in. Your scent, your warmth, you beating heart. He makes a permanent memory of it.

"I love you," you whisper against his shoulder. He lets out a happy laugh as he plays a soft kiss on the top of your head. "I love you.". You repeat the sentence like a mantra. With every word, you can feel your worries going away. Any worry of him not liking you back, any worry of him killing you. Any worry about living in Volterra. All of them disappear. "I love you too," he whispers back.

TWILIGHT TAGLIST (OPEN): @scuzmunkie @thanossexual @prettyinblack231 @kpopgirlbtssvt @cullens-stuff @rexburn12 @jelly-fishy-babie @puer-de-infinitate

#felix #felix volturi x reader #Felix volturi #twilight #twilight imagine #twilight x reader #twilight fanfic #volturi #volturi imagine #volturi x reader #volturi fanfic #Felix Volturi x mate #Felix Volturi x human!reader #x human!reader #reader #fanfic #fanfiction #xreader #volturi x human!reader

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1000roughdrafts · 4 years ago

Text

Hope is a Dangerous Thing...(1)

Request for anon based on the song Hope is a Dangerous Thing for a Woman to Have by Lana Del Ray 🥰💕

Summary: The renowned author of a best-selling crime novel, Y/N Y/L/N, was thrown into a whole new world after her parents were brutally murdered. Their killer never found, Y/N took things into her own hands, meeting the Winchesters in her journey for justice. Even years later, she struggles to let anyone close in fear they’d leave or worse.

Warnings: angst, fluff, language, adult themes, drinking mentioned, supernatural-styled violence

A/N: anon, I really hope you like this, I hope it’s okay that it got so long, as you can see I made it a two-parter due to the massive word count this whole accumulated lol. I more so based the character off my interpretation of the song, and I really hope I do it justice. Next part will come out soon and have all the juicy stuff. Everyone, buckle in, this is a long one :)

Word Count: 3.7k

After years of being the first one to wake up, it had become sort of an unspoken rule that Y/N would make the coffee in the mornings. Sam was never too far behind her, especially if he was going for a run, though he’d rarely have coffee before that. Y/N almost always had her thirty to forty minutes alone to read while she sipped her coffee under a dim lamp in the library.

On a nice day, she’d take her coffee and notebook to the slim platform above the bunkers door. She’d slide her legs under the railing to let her feet dangle, sometimes using it to prop her hands up while writing. Most of the time, however, she’d just stare into the sky as the night changed to morning. Or she’d watch the cars as they passed by, mentally creating stories for the people who drove them, always giving them better than she had.

This morning, like any other, she gets out of bed after a night of tossing and turning, and goes straight for the kitchen to prepare for the day. When she rounds the corner and sleepily waves her hand over the light switch, she makes it halfway into the kitchen before realizing the light was already on. A frustrated, yet soft sigh escapes her. Until noticing the pot of freshly brewed coffee, she’d assumed one of the brothers had carelessly left it on over night.

Going for her favorite mug, she reaches for where it usually sits on the rack before her eyes can fully scan the shelves, unintentionally grabbing a square whiskey glass. She pivots, setting the glass onto the counter as she looks around, giving up when she hears footsteps coming from the hall.

Thinking perhaps Sam had grabbed it by mistake, she rubs her eyes and waits for him to enter the kitchen, surprised when the mug thief turns out to be Dean. The smile he gives her makes her feel even more exhausted. Surely, she’s still dreaming if he’s awake at this hour.

His arm extends towards her, coffee mug in tow, “I tried to beat you to it this morning, bring you the coffee this time, but uh,” his words taper off as he looks down at the cup she has yet to grab.

“Oh,” she utters quietly, stepping forward to grab the warm cup from him, “thanks.

“Yeah,” he says with a shake of his head. He turns to face the table, his robe flowing behind him like a cape. Setting his coffee onto the table, he wraps the robe around his torso before sitting down.

Too caught up in her own thoughts, Y/N doesn’t notice the concerned glance from Dean. Eyebrows scrunched, he watches her wrap both hands around the mug as she brings it to her lips.

He quickly switches his gaze to the counter behind her, in fear she’d catch him watching her. His eyes happen to land on the glass she’d set there just moments before. He chuckles and looks down into his mug, suddenly wishing he’d added a bit of that whiskey to his coffee.

“Hm?” Y/N hums, shuffling over to sit across from him.

“Huh? Oh,” he says, looking back over at the glass with a pointed finger. “Were you wanting something a bit stronger than coffee?”

She lets out a laugh of her own, “no, I’m just stupid tired this morning.”

He nods slowly, “what’s on the agenda for today, anyway? A little morning drink wouldn’t hurt anything, would it?” he teases, only partially joking.

Taking a sip from her coffee, she shakes her head before she could even properly think about the suggestion. Her mind and thoughts now permeated by flashbacks of the last time the two of them drank solo. Getting shitfaced with the older Winchester showed to be interesting, to say the least. She wasn’t sure what had been on his mind that night, but she knew that the alcohol only strengthened the feelings she’s been suppressing for years. She’s sure that if he wanted to he’d have made a move by now. He probably thought of her as nothing but a little sister.

“As tempting as that sounds, we should hit the road soon,” she sighs, taking a gulp of her coffee. She ignores the way it burns going down, but realizes how it tastes exactly as if shed made it herself, despite never sharing how she takes her coffee.

“Ah, but we had so much fun the last time,” he smiles, and Y/N‘s breath escapes her. He clears his throat, “we got a case?” he asks in a breath, leaning back in the chair.

Y/N sets the cup in front of her, resting her head in her hand. Looking back up at Dean, she says, “I was scrolling through articles last night and found something in Florida.”

Nodding he asks, “which part?”

Bringing the cup to her mouth, she whispers, “Naples,” before taking a sip.

He sucks air in through his teeth. “That’s at least a two day drive,” he says, shaking his wrist to get a look at his watch. “Wait, Naples?” he asks, tilting his head. “Isn’t that your hometown?”

She looks at the table to avoid the question, “I also saw something in Tennessee that we could check out on the way there,” she shrugs. “Make use of the miles,” she says, keeping her head down.

He lays his palm flat against the table, wanting to take her hand in his, but lowers his voice instead. “You weren’t reading about them again, were you?” he asks, his eyes coasting from his hand and onto her as she looks anywhere but him.

“No one found out who... or what did it,” she says in a soft whisper. “What if these are connected?”

With an eyebrow raised, he utters, “what if they’re not?” before he could stop himself.

Her eyes pierce up at him, eyebrows pushed together. The chair screeches, echoing in the kitchen as she scoots back to stand. Before she could take a step, he jumps to grab her hand.

“Wait,” he says, pausing to see if she relaxes before continuing. She keeps her body facing away, but lets her eyes meet his. “I’m all for tracking that fucker down, believe me, I just... Sam and I, we’ve been there, and the thing that killed your parents,” he clicks his tongue, “it could be long gone by now.”

Ripping her arm away from him, she sits in the chair. Arms crossed against her chest, she looks him over in deep thought. The door of the bunker clunks open and shut. Dean and Y/N look in its direction to see Sam jogging down the steps.

His head tilts when he sees Dean. With a smirk, he chuckles, “you’re up early.”

Dean pauses, softening his expression as he looks Y/N over. Glancing into his cup before looking back at Sam, he straightens out his back to stand. “Y/N found us a case,” he says with a smile and raised eyebrows, storming over to the coffee pot.

Sam’s upper lip and eyebrows raise as he opens his mouth, immediately closing it when he sees Dean’s tight lips and Y/N’s eyes hyper focused on her coffee.

“Uh, okay great,” he says slowly, wiping sweat from his forehead before following Dean to the coffee. “Where at?”

Rain beats down on the roof of the Impala as Dean drives through Illinois, looking for a place to shack up for the night. After nearly nine hours of sitting in a car with a dead phone and her two roommates, Y/N is restless at the thought of stretching her legs and venturing out on her own for a bit.

Having headphones saved her from listening to Sam’s habitual sniffling for the first six hours, but not from the papers he’s pulled out the last three to shuffle through after her phone died. Her eyes catch Dean’s in the rear view mirror by accident, and she realizes how zoned in on him she’d been, recalling that he’d barely spoken a word. Occasionally he tapped his thumbs against the steering wheel while his music played quietly on the stereo, or he’d mumble some response to Sam if he asked a question, but mostly reserved his voice for fuel-ups.

Feeling a bit playful, Y/N takes a risk. “Hey, Dean,” she says, voice croaking, drawing attention to how little she’d spoken as well. Clearing her throat, she waits for him to look into the mirror again, smiling when he does. “Are we there yet?” she whines, laughing when he rolls his eyes.

“You’re lucky we’re stopping for the night,” he chuckles before putting his eyes back on the road. “Just a few miles until a motel,” he says through a yawn.

Sure enough, only ten minutes later he’s pulling the Impala into the parking lot of a motel advertising vacancy. Without a word, he opens the door to head into the small office.

Sam collects the papers, scooting back in the seat to reach for the bag between his legs. He stuffs the notes in a book and puts it into the bag. A few minutes of comfortable silence pass before Sam says her name.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asks, without turning to face her.

She keeps her eyes on the rain drops that slip down the window, cheering on the little one as it slowly coasts between two steady stream. “There’s nothing to talk about,” she says softly.

He turns to face her, the seat squeaking as he pushes his body against it. “You sure? Cause if you ask me, I don’t think we’re driving all the way to Naples for a case.”

The underdog of a droplet collides with one of the streams, and she lets out a breath. “Don’t do this now, Sam. Please?” she begs.

“I’m not doing anything, I just,” he sighs, his eyes shifting to glance through the driver’s side window at Dean as he walks back to the car. “We care about you is all,” he says, flopping back around in the seat to face the dashboard.

The door opens with a sharp clang, followed by a low sigh as Dean plops into the seat, his legs still hanging out of the car. His arm stretches over the seat to dangle a key in front of Y/N’s nose.

“Rooms come with one bed here,” he says shrugging, “least that’s what’s left, and I figured you’d want your own.”

“Thanks,” she says meekly, taking the key. Grabbing her bag, she opens the door to step out of the car and scans the numbers of the doors for hers. “I’ll see you guys in the morning,” she smiles.

---

The rattle of the door as Y/N pounds her fist against it wakes Dean in a panic. Through the thin wall she can hear him shuffling around and Sam laughing as he walks over to let her in. Handing him a cup of coffee, she pulls another from the carrier for Dean, setting it on the nightstand beside him as he gathers himself.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” she taunts. “Ready to hit the road?”

He shakes his head, grabbing the coffee and removing the lid to take a sip.

“Uh, first I wanted to go over some details about the case,” Sam says, sitting in the chair. Setting the coffee on the desk, he turns to face Y/N, “I was doing some research and found similar cases in the area; all profound people, all killed ten years after their success kicked off, and all in the same way: hearts ripped out of their bodies,” he says, adding in a softer tone, “the same way your parents died.”

Feeling defensive, she points a finger at him, “I know what you’re thinking, but it can’t be Hell Hounds. Their deaths would have been... messier,” she says, crinkling her nose, “and - and my parents would have never made a deal with a demon. Their success was their own,” she says, jaw tightening with concealed anger. She takes a heavy breath, “besides, they died fifteen years after their business took off. It doesn’t fit.”

Sam only nods, swallowing before glancing over at Dean who stays quiet, standing to gather things. Y/N looks between the two of them. Could they really think these people, or - or her parents were killed for wanting success? Most people don’t even know what they’re getting into when signing a deal with a demon, anyway! And her parents... they got where they were because of hard work and long nights, not because some demon handed their success on a platter.

“We should get going soon,” she says, turning to get her bags stuffed into the car.

As soon as the door clicks shut, Dean stops packing and turns to Sam. “I think she might be right,” he shrugs, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Hell Hounds, they’re brutal, they - they rip their victims to shreds.”

“Yeah, but they’ve been known to literally scare people to death at times, or - or lead them to commit suicide-”

“Neither of which happened here, and it still doesn’t explain the missing hearts,” Dean sighs, throwing a bag over his shoulder as he stands.

“Right,” Sam whispers, “so we’re just supposed to ignore obvious signs of a deal because she can’t admit her parents may have sold their souls? I mean, monsters evolve, we’ve seen it before.”

Dean drops the bag by the door and turns to face Sam. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, to you of all people, but come on Sam, have a little sympathy. You remember finding out mom made that deal with yellow eyes? That kind of thing... it guts you,” Dean says.

“That was different, Dean, she did it to save Dad,” he scoffs, “and if she didn’t, we wouldn’t be here.”

Dean sighs, “well, she needs to figure it out on her own,” he grabs his bag and turns the knob on the door, “like we did.”

After a day and a half of driving, Dean pulls the Impala into a tight parking spot of the police station.

“Alright, we got here with just enough time to spare,” he says, clearing his throat. He shuts off the engine, and turns around to face Y/N, “you stay here.”

“Why?” she asks, her face scrunched as the word flies out. Shaking her head, she says, “no. I’m just as much of a hunter as you two. I’ve been doing this for years now. There’s absolutely no reason I shouldn’t be allowed to-”

“You’re gonna compromise the case,” he cuts her off in a sharp tone. After a pause and a breath, he dials it down, “people know you here, because of your parents, your book. They see you with us, and they’re gonna talk, take pictures.”

“So what? Let them,” she scoffs, slouching back in the seat.

“We need to stay incognito,” he scowls, “at least as much as we possibly can.”

Squinting her eyes, she sharpens her tongue, “I appreciate your concern, Dean,” she says, “but I bring an advantage that I don’t think you’re seeing. I assure you, people will be more inclined to talk to me, than two goons in suits.”

“Y/N,” Sam cuts in, “I’m sorry.. I’m with Dean. I mean, we’re still kind of fugitives...” he says softly, “if word gets to the cops looking for us, and they put out a bolo... well, it’d complicate things.”

“Then you sit out, and I’ll investigate,” she says. Y/N looks between the two of them as they exchange a glance. Rolling her eyes, she says, “fine. I’ll meet you in the middle.” Wrapping her hair up into a tight bun, she throws a cap onto her head and reaches into her bag for a long coat. “Let’s go,” she says, grabbing her badge and stepping out of the car.

Dean rolls his eyes, throwing an annoyed look at Sam, who only shrugs. Y/N is halfway to the door of the station before the two even make it out of the car, skipping up the steps.

“Hi. Agent Bixby,” she smiles, showing her badge to the officer at the desk, “I’m here about-”

The officer’s face turns from confusion into a bright smile. She wags a finger at Y/N, chuckling, “ Y/N? Y/N Y/L/N? You know, if you want information for your next book all you gotta do is ask, sweetheart,” she winks. “It was a hot topic around the office here, the way your character solved that horrific crime... brilliant.”

The brothers approach and stand by her side. Y/N glances up at Dean, pleading for him to step in. He’s always been a much better liar than she. But something comes to mind, “actually,” she giggles, “you’re right, I’m sorry. I’ve teamed up with these two here to help aid in research on my part, investigating on theirs.”

They introduce themselves, showing their badges to the officer and exchanging looks between Y/N and the woman at the desk in front of them.

“I see,” she says, inhaling a sharp breath.

“But,” Y/N leans in, “I’m trying to stay undercover, so if you could help me stay hidden, I’d be very grateful.”

“Sure, sure, sure,” she smiles, “whaddya wanna know?”Y/N smiles, leaning in. “I’m curious about the recent murders, the ones with the missing hearts,” she whispers, “is um, the morgue here as well, or?”

“Yeah, but those bodies aren’t gonna be here. You’re gonna want to go to the funeral home down the street,” she says. Lowering her voice, she adds, “and they have a pretty strict policy about visiting, due to the prestige of those who go there.” She sighs, softening her expression upon seeing the disappointment in Y/N’s. “I could maybe send over a memo about your arrival, though? Ask them to let you in.”

“That’d be awesome,” Y/N nods, “could you maybe help with one more thing?” she asks, a finger up to her lips. “We need the addresses of the victims, crime scene photos, and any other details on the case you might have, she smiles.

The officer is a bit wary, chewing her bottom lip as she contemplates whether to agree or not. She looks between the Winchesters, “you’re federal agents, right? Don’t you have access to that information?”

Dean chuckles, “database was down, and we were headed here anyway...”

“Alright,” the officer says, waving a hand. She stands, shuffling through some papers as she says, “we’ll keep this one off the print, but only if you send me a copy of your new book, Y/N,” she winks. “When it’s done, of course.”

Y/N forces a smile, “of course,” she says through her teeth.

Dean holds the door open for Sam and Y/N, giving eyes to Sam as he walks out first. Dropping a hand onto Y/N’s shoulder, he waits until the door closes to whisper in her ear, “we need to talk.”

He slides his hand across her shoulders and lets his arm drop over her, massaging her arm as he pulls her into him. Sam turns to look back at the. Dean waves a hand at him with a nod, pulling his keys out to toss at him, while he walks Y/N down the steps. He watches Sam get into the Impala as he leads Y/N to sit at a bench underneath a palm tree.

He places his hand onto her knee, turning his body towards her. Her heart sparks as the warmth of his hand draws her attention to it. She tries to push her thoughts away, knowing a lecture is coming her way.

Instead, he softens his expression. “I have a story to tell you, something about my past that I don’t tell anyone,” he says, shaking his head. He purses his lips as he swallows, “my mom was a hunter, too,” he nods, “and I didn’t find out about that until many years after she died. I also found out that, uh, she made a deal with a yellow eyed demon named Azazel.”

Y/N nods, “I’ve heard of him,” she says softly.

“Yeah, that bastard put my family through Hell. He killed my dad, twice,” he says in a melancholic chuckle, “and see, after the first time, my mom made a deal with the demon to bring him back.”

Y/N squints her eyes, pulling away slightly.

Dean pulls his hand away and puts it with his other, resting between his legs, “she didn’t know exactly what she was getting into. All she was told was that she’d have her boyfriend back, and she’d be out of the game. She could have her happy, white picket fence life with our dad,” he sighs, “and you know what? I forgave her. Hell, I don’t even blame her. Now, I know circumstances are different-”

“Yeah, my parents didn’t make a deal,” she says, shaking her head.

“And what if they did? You gonna be mad at them? Is it gonna make you miss them any less? They might not have known, Y/N. You know how demons can be, they lie, omit things. Remember the case we worked in Omaha? The friends who weren’t told about the ten year part of the deal? They didn’t even know the damn thing was a demon until it was almost too late for them,” he looks into his hands before bringing his eyes back to hers, “all I’m saying is, keep an open mind about things. Even if it’s the last thing you wanna hear, closure is closure. And if it turns out to be a deal, well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Just know that it doesn’t make your parents any less of who they were. It doesn’t mean they didn’t work for what they earned.” He sighs, grabbing her hand, “and like you said, maybe it wasn’t a deal. Just... hold onto hope for me,” he smiles, kissing her on the forehead.

She shakes her head with a chuckle, “oh, Dean, don’t you know? Hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have,” she grins.

PermaTags<3 @waywardblueshun @81mysteriouslyme @drakelover78 @soab1967 @shutupandfeedmethings @pollywantacracker666 @sonnierae26 @obsessed5sosfreak @tlovescoffee @hobby27 @cluz1babe @emptycanvasposts @suckmyapplejacks

Dean’s Queens<3 @flamencodiva @akshi8278 @squirrelnotsam @laxe-chester67 @ellewritesfix05 @lyarr24 @mrspeacem1nusone

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crystalrose555 · 4 years ago

Text

Don’t make me slap you pt 31

“We’re under attack! Help, send out the royal guard!” No. 2 screamed as he burst into the garden where Diavolo and Barbatos resided with afternoon tea.

However, before he could manage to explain, Little D No. 2 was gripped tightly by an out-of-breath Mammon. As his brothers made their appearance in a gruff and hurried fashion, he squished down the little demon.

“Shut up before people start thinkin’ we’re tryin’ to take over the place!” He growled.

“Once usurpers, always usurpers, Pa-”

Little D No. 2 didn’t even have a chance to finish his taunt as Mammon threw him as hard as he could into the distance. Everyone stared at him as he heaved for breath and dusted off his hands.

“What!? The little jerk can fly and we have more important stuff, remember!?”

“For once, Mammon’s right. Lord Diavolo, do you care to explain?”

Diavolo smiled while placing his cup down on the saucer.

“Explain what, may I ask?”

Levi pushed his way to the front of his brothers as he pulled out his phone and showed its content with a fierce blush on his face.

“Don’t cast Confusion, what is with this!?”

“Ah yes, that is the Devilgram post that Marley sent to tell you all that she was alright.” He answered.

“Yeah, but what’s with that picture!?”

“Oh, Marley believed a picture would be best to announce her recovery since you weren’t answering your D.D.D.s.”

“Then why did she take it while sitting on your lap like that!?” Levi screamed while pointing at the familiar red cloth in the background of Marley who posed provocatively with a seductive cheekiness.

Diavolo scratched his face with his finger and looked away with a small chuckle.

“Ah yes, she claimed it would be a better angle and insisted on taking it that way, something about an interesting background and composition.”

“Aww, she remembered my posting lessons~”

“Asmo, you're the reason behind such a lewd picture!?”

“Yeah, I taught her some secrets of breaking into the top posts on Devilgram but I never dreamed that she would get the top rank ahead of yours truly. That cheeky little minx used Lord Diavolo’s account to promote her selfie. I’m mostly upset because I never thought about taking a picture on Lord Diavolo’s lap. Actually, Lord Diavolo, can I-”

Asmo, however, didn’t get to finish his request as the piercing gaze of his elder brothers burned holes in the back of his head. Surprisingly, the most intense stares were coming from Lucifer whose face had run cold with his full disdain for the overall situation. Diavolo, on the other hand, looked on in confusion.

“I thought you all would be happy to learn that Marley’s alive and well.”

“We were until we saw what was happening in Devilgram. The entire app has crashed three times from the sudden flux of viewers and comments on your account. Not to mention the entire rumor mill from RAD has blown up in multitudes and hasn’t decreased since the picture was posted.” Satan answered.

“The mere thought about the amount of work ahead is giving me a headache that could rival the pain of the fall.” Lucifer coldly added.

Diavolo’s eyes widened at the sudden comment.

“Wait, you still wish to follow me, Lucifer? After everything?”

Lucifer sighed heavily.

“Of course, you saved Lilith and I swore my loyalty to you for it. My oath remains just as it did before, though the burden has shifted in a way that I’ve never planned for.”

Diavolo blinked and turned his attention to the other brothers who showed a range of feelings upon their faces.

“I mean, yeah, y’all lied to all of us but all that don’t matter since Lilith got the chance to live how she wanted.” Mammon added.

“...With the human she loved. And we couldn’t be by her side but her happiness is all that counts at this point.”

“Not to mention their love brought us Mochi in the end and I’ll never regret that~”

“Y-Yeah, it’s a little cliche but I got a best friend from all of this. A Henry that doesn’t think I’m a worthless otaku and who cares about what I care about.”

“Not to mention she made hangin’ out with y’all more tolerable.”

“You’re only saying that because she had all that gold, you money-grubber.”

“Oi, at least I wasn’t squishin’ her face whenever I saw here, ya blond little geek.”

The brothers’ unity turned to discord as they argue amongst themselves, accusing and ratting out one another’s secrets. Lucifer just held his temples as he felt a dull pain radiating throughout his head. Seeing this, Diavolo’s shoulders slumped as the tension left them upon seeing the brothers whom he took into his kingdom were now freely losing face in front of him. They were still supportive of him despite his hand in the secrets they suffered. However, he couldn’t fully relax as his eyes laid upon the reclusive twins who remained in the background.

“And you two? You both should have the most to say about all of this after everything.” Diavolo asked, directing the conversation.

Beel stood firm while Belphie avoided the prince’s gaze, clinging to his brother’s sleeve. Feeling the tightening grasp, Beel placed his large hand over his twin’s pale one.

“Marley would always snack with me and when she was with me, it didn’t feel like I was alone as much. And I will always be grateful to her for bringing Belphie back to us and letting us know the truth about our sister. Right, Belphie?”

Everyone’s gaze slowly shifted to Belphie who shrunk behind Beel further. Diavolo remained silent before asking the brothers to join him at his table as he did before, with a smile across his face.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“...As long as she’s alright, I don’t care...”

A drawn-out groan came out of some brothers while the other half held their faces. Beel, however, just placed his hand firmly on Belphie’s head while stuffing his face with cake.

“What Belphie meant to say was he wanted to thank her and apologize properly.”

“Yeah, we older brothers have to make sure the baby apologizes when he messes up.” Mammon teased as he pulled on Belphie’s cheek.

“Knock it off, Mammon or-”

“Or what? You gonna push me down the stairs and set me on fire too?”

Nearly all of his brothers gave Mammon a look of disgust and disapproval.

“Oi, I was the one who had to keep everyone’s head above water, so I get a pass!”

“Alright then, when Marley forgives Belphie we can string Mammon up and hit him until he returns all the things he owes us since we’re in a gracious mood for his steady support.” Lucifer coldly suggested.

“How is that thankin’ me!? Where’s Marley anyway, she’ll back me up on this!” Mammon demanded.

“Yes, she’s the reason we all came here, Lord Diavolo. So where is she?”

Diavolo paced his fork down next to his cake.

“Oh, she’s already back home. I sent her back after she took the pictures upon her request.”

Nearly all of the brothers frowned upon hearing the news except for Lucifer and Levi who froze in mid-drink and bite respectively.

“Aww, she went back after all of this, that’s a shame. I wanted to go shopping with her.” Asmo paused.

“And I wanted to talk about the books she left me.”

“...Diavolo...”

“Yes, Lucifer?”

“You said pictures just now...” He strained out as his teacup trembled slightly in his grasp.

Diavolo blinked obliviously as he nodded with a smile while Levi roughly dropped his fork to the plate with a clang.

“Meaning more than one?”

“Yes, she took multiple pictures to use with my D.D.D.”

Satan, Mammon, and Asmo joined their brothers in astonished horror while Belphie and Beel remained as if nothing was wrong. Barbatos continued to serve with a smile on his face.

“So, the pictures, Lord Diavolo, are they still on your D.D.D.?”

“Oh no, Marley placed them in a thing called a queue.” He answered with a wonderful smile.

“...the queue for Devilgram?”

“Yes, she then programmed it to release a post every so often so her message wouldn’t get buried.��

The only sound that was heard at the tea-table was Lucifer shattering his teacup in his hand while Levi ripped the table cloth with his own iron grip. The second, fourth, and fifth brother bit their laughing tongues to avoid becoming victim to the impending wave of rage.

“Lucifer, you shattered your teacup.”

“My apologies, my nerves are just reaching their limit. Sir, please hand your D.D.D. over to Leviathan, will you?”

With a disappointed pout, Diavolo followed Lucifer’s request as Levi snatched the device away and frantically tried to purge the possible scandalous pictures of his precious Henry.

“And do you dare save any of those pictures, Leviathan.” Lucifer coldly threatened.

“Yeah unless you’re going to share them with the rest of us~”

“DARMARE!!!*”

*Shut the fuck up! In Japanese

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Marley sighed happily as her weary bones were soaked in her own tub. Taking deep breaths, she took in the residue of sea air from her open bathroom window. However, she suddenly felt her skin itching as if someone was poking her with a dull pencil, causing her to leave the bathroom with a sigh. Wrapping herself in her bathrobe, Marley made her way to the ground level of her home where the younglings continued to poke at her resting pelt.

“Can you all knock it off, I’m trying to relax!”

“Sorry, but it’s so weird. What happened to your pelt?”

“If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

“True but you’ve never been gone that long before.”

“And your pelt is all fancy now. Did you trade in your old one? I wanna new skin.”

Marley chuckled as she took her pelt in hand and sat on the couch while inviting her young interrogators to join her. She then leaned back and closed her eyes.

“So where’s Nixie?”

“They went to get takeout and don’t change the subject. You left for a long time, you didn’t bring any treasure back and your pelt is completely different, so you better start talking, Marley.”

Marley sighed again as she stroke her black and white fur. She opened her eyes only to be greeted by curious eyes.

“Fine, geez, you guys are worse than seagulls. But, I’ll tell you the story when Nixie gets back with the food. For now, I’ll just give you the title.”

“And that is?”

Marley smirked happily.

“Mochi in the realm of Geeks.”

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amongtheshadowandlight · 3 years ago

Text

In Twilight: 6 of ?

Chapter Six: Within The Forest’s Glow

It was almost...comforting, so to say, stepping into the twilight once more. In some way, her body craved the feeling of being in this covered realm. The energy she could feel running through her veins was like nothing she had experienced before, she was somehow stronger here than she was in uncovered land. Maybe, also, it was the hidden beauty she could help but admit. It held its own sense of beauty, and Ombretta couldn't stop staring; everything enrapturing her attention. The little squares appearing from nowhere, seeming to be endless, how the trees of Faron seemed to glow in the light of dusk;

Midna with the wooden shield over her face.

Ombretta bit down on her knuckle, fighting the urge to laugh as she watched Midna, who was perched on Link's back once more, looking around with the wooden shield over her face, the sword in her hand.

"Hmm! So these are the weapons of your world?" Midna asked, her voice muffed by the wood. She took a couple of blinded swings, much to Ombretta's amusement and Link's annoyance as he ducked his head quickly. "You really think these will slay the creatures of twilight?"

"It's the best we got, Midna."

With a huff, Midna pulled the shield off her face and plopped it onto Link's, along with tossing the sword into the ground. "Well, I won't use these."

"Here..." Ombretta giggled softly, lifting the shield off of Link's face and picking up the sword, giving it a twirl. "I'll use 'em for now!"

"Alright, a promise is a promise...I trust you enough to help."

"And the catch?"

"In exchange for my help, I need you two to gather some things for me."

Ombretta simply raised an eyebrow.

Midna sighed, "listen, I can't tell you the details right now. But it'll be easy, trust me. But enough of that, can you hear that? The lamentation of spirit that had its light stolen."

Ombretta frowned. The song was quiet, yet, desperate. Desperate for someone to hear, to come...to help. Her hand flew to her hair, gripping it tightly as a ripple of pain ripped through her skull. Less intense than the ones before, but enough to cause Ombretta to wince.

"What's up with you?" Midna asked, along with a whine from Link.

"Nothin'..." Ombretta hissed, slowly releasing her grip and shaking her head.

"Well, better get going, don't you think? Don't blame me for the fate of your world if you can't find that light."

"Don't have to be a jerk about it, y'know." Ombretta muttered as she began walking.

"I heard that."

"That's nice."

Ombretta kept silent after that,trying to focus more on the song than anything else around her. It wasn't like she didn't know where the spring was, on the contrary; she probably could find the spring with her eyes closed if she so wanted to, but it was like something deep was stirring with the lamentation. Like her very soul was trying to reach out to it. Why?

She let out a loud gasp at the booming sound behind her. Whipping around, Ombretta's shoulders sagged at the sight of the pillars in Ordona's spring, caging them in once again. You’ve gotta be kidding me...

Ombretta's heart dropped to her stomach as she watched not one, but three of the shadow beings drop from the sky, picking themselves up off the ground, unaffected from the fall.

"Aw! We're penned in again! Who do they think they're dealing with? No need to take these out one by one." Midna said before floating off. "You two can handle this on your own, right?"

"Wait! Midna...! Oh... she's gone." Ombretta scowled, cringing at the shrieks the creatures’ let out, two coming closer to the two of them. "I'll take the one on the left, you take the one on the right?"

She wasted no time. Swinging the sword towards the creature, slashing away at its body as rapidly as she could, grinning once the being fell to her feet. Turning around, She grinned triumphantly to see the second fall to the ground. However, the grin fell from her face as the last one standing let out an ear-piercing screech, hands instantly flying to cover her ears, watching in disbelief as the recently slain two seemed to rise.

Almost as if nothing happened to them at all.

What in Hylia's name is this!?

Ombretta could only look to Link before jumping out of the way, the hand? Claw? Coming down where she just was. She barely caught Link lunge at one of the beings once again, a loud shriek echoing from the beast as he latched his jaws tightly, effectively bringing the beast down. Backing up, Ombretta observed the other two, who kept swinging towards Link, none of them minding their fallen friend.

"HEY!" Ombretta called out, the two beings instantly turning her way. "OVER HERE!"

She could feel her palms begin to sweat as she watched the shadow creatures run towards her, forcing herself to stay in place, waiting for them to get closer. Readjusting her grip, steeling herself, with a loud cry, she spun around with the blade, slicing through the bodies, both of them hitting the ground at the same time. Her chest heaved as she dropped her arms to her sides, watching as the black masses turned into the dark squares, floating up to the sky. Her sword clanked as it hit the ground, signalling their enemy’s defeat… for now.

"Well, took you long enough!" Midna sighed out, flopping back down on Link. "Glad you figured out how to beat them."

"Yeah, with no help from you."

"I had faith."

"Uh huh. My ringing ears say otherwise." Ombretta shot back before continuing on the pathway, Link tailing close behind. "Seriously...those shrieks..."

"Hey! What's that?"

Turning her gaze to match what Midna was pointing at, Ombretta spotted the dull glowing light hovering over the water of the spring, the lamentation growing stronger the closer they moved towards it.

"Please..." A similar voice floated to their ears the more they got closer. "Be careful....this woods have changed... dark clouds of dusk cover this land...In this Twilight, those who live in the light become as mere spirits....I am...a spirit...of light..."

Even though the whisper was so quiet, gentle, Ombretta could still hear the lament weaved into the words, like he was fighting so hard to stay aglow, the desperation and the tireless making her ache to her very soul.

"How can we help you?"

"Please...look...for my light..." The spirit replied. "Retrieve the light stolen by the dark beasts...And keep them....in this vessel..."

Ombretta flinched at the bright flash, the wonder quickly filling her as she watched the manifestation of said vessel appear in front of them. She attentively grasped the vessel, the glass bulbs incredibly smooth to the touch, fragile. It felt like the lightest touch could shatter it.

"In the shadows of twilight...the insects are invisible...to those of normal beings...find...the insects of darkness..."

"Um, not to interrupt..." Ombretta spoke up, looking back up at the ball of light, the light dulling more by the second. The more she gazed at the ball of light, the more questions began to flood her mind. Too many. Her head felt like it was spinning. "But what do they look like? The insects?"

"The dark insects...they are a form taken by evil...once they attach to our scattered light...find...them..."

"Hey! Wait!" Ombretta huffed as the light dimmed out in what she assumed to be a sign of the spirit finishing what he had to say. "Well, that's kinda helpful...?" She looked down to Link, "are ya ready to save the woods?"

A bark, followed by a nod.

"Hm, well, I think we should start heading deeper into the woods," She pointed to the covered pathway to the left before starting down the path. "I wonder what they look like-" She trailed off, at the sight of a purple spark a little ways ahead of her, scurrying along the ground.

"Uh, I think I found some..." Ombretta called out, gasping when the sparks disappeared to what Ombretta could only describe as disgusting. The glowing insects were enough to make Ombretta's skin crawl, taking a few steps back as to not wanting to be near them a moment longer. She let out a small yelp at the flash of grey and a growl as Link rushed past her, his jaws instantly latching onto one of the bugs, spitting it out before lunging at the second one.

"Oh my goddesses, that looked absolutely disgusting." Ombretta said with a grimace. "Glad it's you and not me."

Link huffed, shaking his head.

Shaking her own head, Ombretta glanced at the two small balls of floating light that came from the insects. "So how do we get these into here?" She took a single step closer, only to jump back as the balls of light rushed to her, only for them to go into the vessel still clutched in her hand.

"Well, I think we figured that out."

"I guess so huh?"

"Well, that’s two down, and a lot more to go!" Midna dug her heels into Link's sides. "Let's go!"

"Again, so glad it's you and not me." Ombretta let out a slight chuckle, attaching the vessel to her Ordonian wrap that was still around her waist before following down the path.

Soon, they reached the fork in the road, spying a purple spark scuttering underneath the gate, leading deeper into Faron. Ombretta looked down at Link, who shared the same look as her and promptly turned to the left, to the decently sized clearing.

"Hm, I wonder who lives here." Ombretta thought aloud as she viewed the shack that was tucked away to the side. "If anyone does actually live here… it looks abandoned."

Link barked, making her look at Midna.

"There is a person who lives here, he sold me a lantern."

Ombretta hummed, still not fully believing that someone would live in a condemned-looking shack willingly. Maybe, just maybe, it's nicer on the inside.

"A'ight, do we see any more of those nasty things?"

"You really don't like them much, do you?"

"Normally I don't care but these just...I'unno, make my skin crawl." Ombretta shuddered once more, looking under the large iron pot sitting above what she guessed to be a campfire. "And the fact we have to collect sixteen? Ugh."

"Uh, not to interrupt your lovely rambling, but Link just got another, by the side here!"

"Oh!" Ombretta shuffled over to where Link was sitting, the ball of light floating just mere inches in front of his face before flashing into the vessel. "Y'know, I saw an opening to the house on the other side, looks to be an open window or fallen wood or something."

"Let's go check it out."

"Wait, what? You can't be serious?!"

"Why not?" Midna asked, crossing her arms. "If someone is in that house, it's not like they can see us."

Ombretta pursed her lips together, she had a point. With a resigned sigh, Ombretta took the vessel off her wrap, holding it out for Midna to take. "I'm not going in, but here. If you find anything."

Midna took the vessel, "thanks."

Ombretta nodded, "Just be quick, the sooner this is over the better." She watched as Link ran to the other side of the shack before scanning the area, trying to catch a glimpse of those purple sparks, if there even were any more in the area.

A loud knock caused Ombretta to jump away from the shack, her eyes scanning the outside walls rapidly, her heartbeat beginning to pound in her ears, the sword now out and held in front of her. She ultimately let out a sigh as she saw Link land on the ground, walking towards her, Midna holding up the now brighter looking vessel.

"Goodness, what was that loud knock?" She asked as she slid the blade back into its scabbard before taking the vessel back from the imp, eyeing up the newly filled sections.

"Oh, well wolfie here went to lunge at an insect and ended up bashing into the wall."

"Aww..." Ombretta giggled, going down into a perch and petting Link's head softly. "Still not used to this body, huh?"

Link huffed, shaking his head.

"Well, it'll be over soon enough I'm sure. Speaking of which," Ombretta stood back up, "how many, exactly?"

"Two."

"Perfect!" Attaching the vessel to her wrap once more, she pointed to the forked path. "Well, now down there we go. Saw the one that went under the gate."

A bark.

"Midna?"

"He asked how you're going to get past the gate."

"Oh!" Ombretta looked at the gate and pursed her lips. "I could climb it, but first...you kill the bug first." She waited until Link had dug under the gate enough for him to crawl under before scaling the gate herself, sitting at the stop. She watched as Link chased the bug around the opening of the caved over pathway. She jumped down as Link finally sunk his jaws in the insect, walking close enough to the ball of light to get it into the vessel.

They made their way into the cave, the light becoming more scarce, soon the only light being from lit torches a little ways ahead of them, guiding their path. The familiar squeaking of keese making her scowl, sword at the ready as they walked, making sure to dodge what Ombretta assumed to be Deku babas that had been infected by the twilight and the same monsters they encountered in the sewers. The less they fought, the more they could conserve their energy.

Ombretta couldn't help but sigh as they walked out from the cave, but the relief was very short lived as she looked out deep Faron,

Or what should've been deep Faron.

Instead of the familiar lush green forest and remarkable flora she knew so well was now covered in a purple mist, the mist covering as far as she could see. Slowly, she inched forward to the edge of the mist, hand held out, but stopped at the loud bark Link let out from the left of her. Looking over quickly, Ombretta swiftly made her way over to her friend, who was sitting in between two more balls of light.

"I didn't see those there!" She said as she watched the light go into the vessel. "I was looking at the mist, something tells me that it's dangerous."

"Did you touch it?"

"Actually, no! You stopped me from doing that. But call it a gut feeling...something is up with that mist."

"Okay, say the mist is dangerous and we shouldn't touch it...how are we getting through these woods?"

Ombretta shrugged, "haven't thought that far ahead."

"Hey...Think we could get across there?"

Ombretta looked to where Midna's was pointing, seeing a twisted branch sticking out of the mist, her eyes zoning on the small flat part just above the surface.

"Yeah, that could work. You go first, I'll follow your path." With a snap of her fingers Ombretta followed as Midna guided Link across the mist, leaping from branch to stump to a patch of uncovered land. "How many times are we gonna do this? It's a big area."

"As many times as we need to!"

Ombretta just let out a single groan as she followed them up a steep hill, snapping her fingers once again following them to a wooden platform, her staying back as Link lunged at the two bugs scurrying about, mauling through them in almost record time.

"Ugh, you're getting good at that..."She said with a shudder, making sure that the light was in the vessel, Ombretta followed them to the other side of the platform, jumping from the ridiculously large stumps, narrowing dodging from the snapping infected Deku babas, jumping higher branch by branch before stopping on a flat part of a tree. She assumed that the tree had been cut down ages ago.

She slouched forward, her hands landing on her knees, "give me a moment here...." she panted out, waving a hand. "Just because I can do that jumping thing, doesn't mean it doesn't tire me out." Exhaling once more, she pushed off her knees, "alright, let's go."

She jumped from branch to branch after them, yelping as a Deku baba snapped at her, barely nicking at her hip, landing another wooden platform. "Why are there swinging hammers up here!?" Ombretta cried out, timing just right to jump across, lest to be hit by what looked to be a broken piece of a tree trunk fashioned into the likeness of a hammer.

They jumped down from pillar to pillar, finally, to Ombretta's relief, onto solid ground. Without giving a second thought, Ombretta flopped herself onto the ground, the coarse grass digging into the exposed skin of her arms and calves, but she couldn't bring herself to care. What did catch her attention was Link, as he looked to the ground, occasionally pawing at the dirt.

"What...are you doing?"

"Saw the insects dig themselves underground."

"What? I didn't see anything-" Ombretta screeched and leapt to her feet as she saw the unbearable shadow likeness of the insect scurry beside her, Link wasting no time digging his paws into the ground, making the insect pop out. "I hate these bugs...."

"You'll get used to it." Midna chided as Link dug up the second one, making it join it's brethren soon after.

"Yeah, I doubt I will." Ombretta bit back, looking down at the vessel before heading up the path ahead of them. "Oh luckily, it's only two more."

They silently walked the pathway, enjoying the peace. However not for long as they came up to a clearing, instantly spying three more of the shadow beasts sauntering around.

"You take one and I'll take the other two?" Ombretta sighed, pulling out the sword once again. "Same as last time?"

Link nodded, stalking towards one of the beings while Ombretta stalked towards the other two, yelling out to them. Adjusting her grip on the hilt, she once again waited for them to get closer before swinging towards them, the blade slicing them both across the middle, just as the one Link attacked fell. After watching them explode into the small squares, Ombretta turned to face her furry friend, twirling the sword.

"You okay over there?"

Link nodded, making Ombretta smile as she sheathed the blade.

"Good, now, time's a-wastin'!" Almost with a newfound vigor, Ombretta led the way continuing down the pathway, scanning the area for the rest of the godsforsaken bugs. "I...don't see anymore, do you?"

Link barked, looking towards the temple.

"Okay....I think I know what you're saying and you think they're by the old temple?"

"Would it kill us to look?"

"No, but that would be ridiculous if they were there." Ombretta stated, heading up the winding path towards the weathered building. "Such a long way to be if you ask me-oh look." Ombretta frowned once she spotted the tiny glowing bodies scurrying around the entrance to the temple. "Link..."

In a flash, Link lunged at the insect, his jaw latching on both of them at the same time, both balls of light floating up from Link's mouth. Ombretta moved to the lights close enough for them to fill the vessel, letting out a cheer as the vessel glowed to its brightest, not a single section empty.

"Yes! Finally!!" Ombretta cheered, but began to falter as she felt her body begin to tingle, her skin glowing a shade of blue. "Uh, Link? Why are we glowing?" She could barely hear the bark before she felt her body become weightless, her vision going white.

#link x reader #link x oc #twilight princess #twilight princess link #Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess #legend of zelda #TP Link

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targaryenimagines · 4 years ago

Text

Candle in the Northern Winds

Daenerys Targaryen x Reader

Word Count: 2,630

Summary: Memories played like repeated mantras in your head. Taunting you over and over again of things you could never unsee. Filling you with more and more despair as time wore on. What made it worse was the fact that you still couldn’t give her up. Despite the fact that she had completely shattered you.

Dialogue Prompt: “I’m still not over you.” and “I’ll always be there for you. Don’t you know that?”

Note: I changed the second dialogue prompt to “I’ll always be there for you, I swear.”

Other Note: Also mentions of cheating.

The winds of the North tear at your face. Freezing the tears streaming down in their tracks. Stuttering breathes escaping between chattering teeth. Hands clutching at your cloak trying to preserve any semblance of body heat.

You know that standing out here was a death wish waiting to happen, but you couldn’t bear to be in his presence anymore. Couldn’t bear to look into his eyes and see the remorse, the regret, that he clearly had. Couldn’t bear the feeling of nausea every time you saw them together. Acting to the world like nothing happened when it had torn yours apart.

Their actions had completely shifted your entire axis. Opening up a chasm beneath your feet and watching as you fell. Throwing you out to the wolves to be eaten because you had lulled yourself into a false sense of security. You had allowed yourself to love, to open up, and that had cost you more than you were willing to admit.

More than you were willing to believe, because if you did then you would remember how she had made you feel. You would remember why you had allowed yourself to open up. You would remember every single reason you had fallen in love with Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen.

The way her hair always fell into her face as she slept. Golden ivory falling in gentle waves to cover the most beautiful face you have ever laid eyes on. Little snores escaping between parted lips.

The way her eyes always lit up when she saw you. Glowing violet shining like the sun as she gazed upon you. Always filled with warmth and causing you to feel nothing but security.

Even to the way her hands always held yours in such a welcoming hold. Always with just enough pressure to show you that she wasn’t going to let go, but allowing you the freedom to make up your mind if you wanted to leave. Allowing you the leeway to let go if you wanted to. Her hands were like a warm hug against yours. Filling you with nothing but love and affection.

And then that all changed. Ripped from you before you were even given the chance to prepare yourself.

All because of Westeros.

All because of the Iron Throne.

All because of Jon Fucking Snow.

Because of him, and this cursed land, you have lost everything that ever meant anything to you. Every shred of happiness, of light, has been tainted. Memories that once left you with a sense of purpose now filled you with despair and anguish. Moments that you used to hold on to were nothing but wind beneath your palms.

Your mind was tainted by something you could never forget. No matter how much you tried.

No matter how much you pleaded.

Gone were the moments of slightly tousled hair because of sleep. Now all you saw was the beautiful ivory waves knotted together because of untold passion. A mouth that had always made you feel safe breathing out a moan. Her back arched against the stocky frame of the northern bastard.

Gone were the feelings of warmth and security when you looked into her eyes. For all you could remember was the way she had looked at you over his shoulder. The shock in her gaze quickly turned to anguish. Shattering everything you had thought you knew.

Gone were the moments of simply being in her presence. Being filled by nothing but warmth and affection, because now her presence was nothing but stifling. Her hold on you, just like that night, was a prison. Her fingers like the iron bars on a cell. Trapping you in an endless sea of despair. Continuously drowning you without any hope of rescue.

After all how were you supposed to swim, to live, when the thing keeping you afloat was the one drowning you?

You squeeze your eyes shut to abate the oncoming tears. You didn’t want to be weak anymore. You didn’t want to hurt anymore, but you know that the daggers that pierced your heart every time you saw her would always stay. That no matter how many tears you shed, how many sleepless nights passed by, that this hurt, this ache, would never fully leave you. No matter how much you wanted it to, because of one stupid emotion.

The emotion that still made your heart skip a beat when you saw her.

The emotion that made your hands reach out for her warmth during the harsher northern nights.

The emotion that made you crave her presence with every fiber of your being.

The emotion that made you so irreversibly in love with Daenerys. No matter if she broke your heart or not, because you couldn’t breathe without her, and you hated yourself because of it.

You hated that she still had this effect on you, but most of all you hated that you wanted to forgive her. That you wanted to give in to her pleading looks.

Give in to the gentle touches she lay on your forearm as you passed her.

Give in to the warmth that she still made you feel. To the love that still sang so brightly within your heart and soul, and that you could clearly see being returned.

Those emotions only doubled when you received the news of Viserion. Knowing how much that must have destroyed Daenerys. To not only lose your son but to then learn that you’d have to fight his corpse? A mere imitation of the light that Viserion used to be.

Bringing your palm against your forehead you try to ignore all the emotions running rampant through your body. With your other hand you pull your cloak tighter against yourself. Trying to savor the minimal warmth you gained because of the action.

Letting loose a deep sigh you watch as it clouds in front of you. Your eyes trailing across the misty lines as they slowly disappeared. Never noticing the figure that was approaching you until a warm, gloved, hand appears on your forearm.

Jumping, you pull away from the hold. Your body whipping around to face the person who the hand belonged to. Although, in your heart, you knew exactly who it was.

Your heart thudding against your chest as you met the violet gaze of Daenerys.

Doing your best to appear unaffected by her sudden appearance you straighten yourself. Your arms crossing protectively over your chest. You allow yourself to shift slightly backwards so you could put a little more room in between the two of you.

Something that Daenerys noticed automatically. Her brow turning down in a clear show of her displeasure. Though she made no move to rectify the sudden distance. Knowing that you had every right to react that way to her presence.

Finally, after a moment, she speaks. “You shouldn't be out here in the cold.” She shifts in place as she glances around at your surroundings. “You’re not used to the northern weather. You should go somewhere that’s warmer.”

Your mouth twists into a self deprecating smile. Your words spitting out of your mouth like they were acid. “And where, pray tell, should I go? To you?” A short laugh escapes your mouth. Ignoring the hurt that flashed across stunning violet, you continue. “Or should I stay in the great hall where I have to listen to the great Jon Snow speak? Or, better yet, should I go back to my chambers that only stay warm for half the night? Where would you like me to go, Your Grace?”

Wincing at the use of the formality Daenerys moves closer to you. “You can stay with me.”

“Why would I want to stay with you?” The question is practically snarled between clenched teeth. “Why would I want to stay with the woman who broke my heart? Why would I want to stay with the woman who promised me forever and broke it the moment she got something better? Tell me, Khaleesi, why would I want to be anywhere near you?”

Daenerys doesn’t speak but as you were asking your questions she wilted more and more. Defeat flashing across her face as the words rang through the air. The venom laced within your tone causing her to blanch.

Scoffing your move further away from her. Very much aware of her burning gaze following your form. You could feel the way defeat was beginning to worm its way through your body. Your shoulders slump because of it and your voice drops to a pained whisper.

“Do you know what’s worse,” you ask, agony laced within your tone. “After all of that. After everything that you’ve done to me. I’m still not over you.” Chuckling lowly you turn your gaze back towards her. Your eyes darkened because of your emotions. “I still love you with everything that I am, and I hate myself because I do. I hate the fact that you still make my heart skip a beat. I hate the fact that I miss your voice as the first thing I hear in the morning and the last I hear at night. I hate the fact that I can’t seem to get any air without you being next to me. I hate that you still own my heart and soul even after you destroyed them.”

Widened violet eyes meet yours before they narrow. A determined look flaring across her face. Fire alighting within her gaze. Moving Daenerys situates herself in front of you. Her gaze leveled with your own, and you try to fight down the feelings of warmth that you got because of it.

Bringing her hand up Daenerys’s hand cups your cheek. Her thumb running soothing circles against it, and you fight with every instinct in your body telling you to lean into it. You watch, silently, as Daenerys seems to be processing things. Her mouth thins with thought as she continues to stare at you. Finally, after a moment, she begins to speak. Her voice was low and filled with sincerity.

“There aren’t enough words to express how sorry I am for hurting you. No words that could ever excuse my actions. No words that could ever show you how much I need you to forgive me, but I’m going to try to say what’s needed to be said for over a fortnight. Whether or not you forgive me is up to you. I am not going to begrudge you for any actions you take against me nor will I try to sway your feelings for me. I am simply going to say what I should’ve said the last time you were in front of me like this.” Taking a deep breath Daenerys closes her eyes for a beat. Trying to work up the nerve to continue. Feeling you shift causes her eyes to snap open and a determined look to flare, once more, across her face. “I am going to start by saying the truest thing that I have ever said, I love you. I love you with everything within me. You are the one that has always stood by me when times were at their hardest. You loved me at my best and cherished me at my worst. You are the reason that when I look back that I’m no longer lost, because I know you’d be there. I know that you’d always be there to cheer me on. You’d be there when I need a shoulder to cry, and I took advantage of that. I took advantage of the fact that you were always there. I started to believe that you would always be there. So I stopped paying attention to you. I stopped paying attention to your needs and desires, and started fueling my own. My need for the Iron Throne blinding me to what I already have.” She pauses. “Had, and that’s something I can never forgive myself for. I can never forgive myself for letting my own goals push themselves before you, because you’re the only one that’s ever put me first above anything else. You’re the only one that’s ever loved me as both Daenerys Targaryen and the Mother of Dragons. You’re the only one that is more important to me than anything else in my life. Which is what makes my actions even more despicable. The fact that I willingly hurt the love of my life because I was hurting, because I couldn’t handle everything that life had thrown at me. I was weak and ignorant. Forgetting everything that you’ve gone through for me. The years of you staying loyal to me, and how did I repay that? By cheating on you with the one person I should have never touched. The first new thing that had come my way in Westeros.” A cynical laugh falls from Daenerys’s lips at the thought. “I suppose he was exotic to me, but that still will never change the fact that I was unfaithful to the most amazing being that I’ve ever met. To the one person that has never given up on me. Who has always been there for me. Well now it’s time that I’m here for you, and I promise I’ll always be. I’ll always be there for you, I swear.”

Closing your eyes you could feel the way your breath sucks in sharply. Feeling the way the cool air stings your nose because of it. You know that in your heart what Daenerys said was the truth, and that she would stand by her words, but a part of yourself, a big part, didn’t want to be hurt again. Didn’t want to give Daenerys the chance to do it again, but the other part wanted to. For there was no greater risk than loving Daenerys.

Opening your eyes you meet glowing violet in a steadfast gaze. Trying to convey to her how important your next words were going to be. Something she seems to understand immediately based off the shifting in her stance.

“Time,” you murmur, watching as confusion flashes across her face. “I need time. I can’t forgive you overnight because what you did shattered me, but if you’re willing to pick up the pieces? If you’re willing to accept the cuts that will happen because of it? Then I know I’ll be able to forgive you one day.”

Her face breaks out into the largest smile you’ve ever seen. Her exuberance clearly glowed within her eyes. Bringing your hand to her lips Daenerys presses a chaste kiss to it. Her lips curling into a smile against it.

Whispering, almost reverently, Daenerys looks at you with complete devotion. “I would wait until the end of time to be with you. I would go through any pain, no matter how great, if it meant having you in the end. For there is no greater pain than losing you, and I’ve become all too aware of what that feels like. I vow never again to go through it. Nothing will ever keep me from you.”

Smiling you allow yourself to feel warmth and love once more. Accepting the feelings with a welcomed embrace. Allowing yourself to feel everything you’ve been pushing away for so long. It was like coming home after a long journey.

Glancing towards Daenerys, and her bright gaze, you know that there was still a long road ahead of you. That there would be bumps and that there would be tears shed, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything but determination.

For as long as you had each other you could get through anything.

As long as you kept moving forward you would be okay, because there was no need to be lost anymore.

Not as long as you had her and she had you.

#daenerys x reader #daenerys targaryen x reader #daenerys targaryen #daenerys targaryen imagine #daenerys imagine #daenerys stormborn #daenerys #game of thrones imagine #got imagine

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hoaqins-funk-house · 4 years ago

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Hoaqin

Yandere

Part 2

"Y/N, stand up."

"Why?" You ask, still laying down.

"There are people approaching. I believe they're here to awaken me."

You hum, lazily pushing yourself to your feet.

Being, well, the size of an adult, you towered over the half-pint next to you. You place a hand on his head, next to his crown, hearing him click his tongue. "You'll stop treating me like a child soon enough."

"As long as you look like one, my view won't change."

"If I'm getting out of here, it won't be very long until I look like I did previously." He smirks, taking a seat in the chair that you had been ignoring for the better part of five or six hundred years.

"Shouldn't you turn the chair around? The back is facing the door." You say, him sighing.

"Don't you know how to be dramatic?"

"Maybe I would've cared about such a thing before I was sealed." You yawn, leaning on the chair and facing the door as it slowly opens, revealing a dirty blonde man with freckles. His eyes widen when he sees you, but he quickly rids his face of any shock as Hoaqin looks over his shoulder, staring him down with red-rimmed eyes.

"You're finally here. It's been a while, Daniel."

"Hurry on out here, we don't have much time." The blue-eyed man, Daniel, says, staring at you suspiciously.

Hoaqin stands, walking around his chair before pausing as he spots the lady in red. "A guide, huh? Filthy. You brought someone with tainted blood here with you? How revolting. Still, I suppose you are pretty useful."

Her fist clenches. "You-"

"Quiet. Even if you are knowledgeable, you shouldn't speak your majesty's name so casually. My name is Hoaqin." He introduces, beginning to walk forward as his outfit's trail follows close after.

You, yawning, stretch your arms above your shoulders and begin to follow after, catching up to his side quickly.

"My aim is for my throne. And I will get there with FUG assistance. Soon, the entire tower will know my name." As he fully exits along with you, he notices everyone's expression. "Why is everyone looking at me like that?"

"You look like a kid, Hoaqin. Why wouldn't they." You answer flatly.

He huffs, lips twitching down in irritation. "I could guess that, Y/N."

"Then why ask?"

"You-" He sighs. "Fine. You, with the brown hair." Her head perks up. "Can you really not feel it? My power? Even if I look like a weak kid."

Your eyes drift over to her, still half-lidded. She clams up, your gaze moving once more as the hooded man beside her begins to speak.

"Not true, Sir Hoaqin. I am Sir Yamah's Loyal Dog, Buelsar Elliot, and I can easily sense your great power is still within you."

Hoaqin's head tilts back as you look around, unfazed. He was a Slayer, as far as you're aware.

"Hmm... A Dog of Slayer Bayroad Yamah?"

"Yes. Please, use my power."

One of your eyebrows raises as you look over the group that had been gathered for the boy at your side.

Daniel continues eyeing you strangely, you meeting his gaze.

"Hoaqin... Who's this?" He asks, eyes narrowing.

"I'm Y/N. I was sealed in the room he was contained in, and I woke up as he was sealed." Casually, you raise a hand in greeting. "I've been with this brat for 600 or so years."

Hoaqin huffs, arms crossing. "I'm not a brat, I'll show you soon enough."

"Sure. Until then, you'll still be a brat to me."

Daniel continues staring, now confused. You, an unknown Regular, seemed so close with that monster. You were seemingly uncaring, not emoting, well, at all.

And Hoaqin...

Hoaqin made absolutely sure to never create bonds that couldn't be broken at a moment's notice, but it seems you're the exception.

His brows furrow as Hoaqin walks past him, you stretching once more as you stay in your previous spot.

"Oh, I need to ask; who are they?" Hoaqin inquires, pointing his sword at the two women in the back. Your eyes move between them, stopping on the one with freckles. Your eyes narrow slightly.

You didn't trust her smile.

"Ah, hello Sir Hoaqin. I'm Rachel, and this is Yura Ha. We're here to aid you."

"And how will you do such a thing?"

"With this."

You watch as she holds up a strange device, its screen colored purple with a cartoonish face in the center. Hoaqin gets handed it, observing it.

"What is it?"

Rachel smiles.

As she begins to explain what 'Emily' is, your eyes drift to the door behind her. It had been quite a while since you had seen the train. And… were there people back there? There was some chatter from behind the door.

No one else seemed to notice it.

Walking around the rest of the group, you approach the door. Hoaqin's gaze drifts to you as he hands back the phone.

"Is something the matter?" He asks.

You tilt your head as you observe the door, staying silent. Humming, you watch passively as the large doors open, revealing two people's shocked faces as they gaped at you.

"Hoaqin?!" They yelp, you sighing.

"No. Who are you?"

Your group faces you, the sword-wielder moving over to you to see the two who were there.

"Are you here to greet me?"

"I highly doubt that. Just look at their faces." You say, Hoaqin nodding.

"Yes, I suppose you're correct."

The red-haired guide lurches forward, shouting. "Wangnan, use a bomb!"

"Alright! Flamethrower, support me!"

The golden colored man grabs a two toned ball from his inventory, and as he goes to throw it, his arm gets impaled by Hoaqin's blade.

The red guide starts to run up to the injured man, but stops as Hoaqin begins to speak. "If you wish for your friend's hand to stay attached to his arm, I'd suggest staying right there."

"Even if his hand stays attached, I don't think he'll be able to use it." You yawn, shrugging. "Which sucks, but hey. It's better than dying I suppose."

The fire lady stares at you incredulously.

"It's been a while since I've sliced meat, thank you for the reintroduction. Still-" Hoaqin pauses, ripping his blade from Goldy's arm and laying it next to his neck, still stained a dirty crimson as the blood dripped off. The man grunted, barely holding back a scream. "Tell me. Who are you? Are you and that guide on a team?"

He pauses, a smirk growing on his lips. "Now that I've looked a bit closer… you seem tasty."

The sword scrapes against the man’s neck. “Speak, Yellow Monkey. What is your little group after?”

The injured man grits his teeth, unable to properly form words as his arm bleeds freely.

“Hoaqin. He can’t speak.” You inform. “Having your hand half cut off is pretty painful.”

The golden-haired man looks over to you, your expression remaining blank.

“Seriously? He can’t talk because of pain? How pitiful.” Hoaqin scoffs.

“He’s a normal Regular. And a regular person. Being injured that badly isn’t very pleasant.”

“What, are you sympathizing with him?”

“A little. I’m not a fan of forcing people to endure torture before dying.”

Hoaqin huffs, pouting.

“Hoaqin, we don’t have the time to mess around with them.” Daniel says. “Besides, they’re the friends of Jue Viole Grace, the new Slayer Nominee. They will be useful to keep around.”

Hoaqin turns on his heel at Daniel’s words, you still facing the two intruders.

“You’re Wangnan, right?” You ask, the woman rushing to his side as he grips his arm, looking up at you with sweat dripping off of his face. She also looks up at you, unnerved by how calm you were. He nods. Kneeling down, the woman gets defensive, and you just stare into his eyes, then focusing on the fire user. “And your name?”

“Y-yeon Yihwa.”

Abruptly, you stand, looking down on the two. “You’re strong. Both of you.”

“Who are you?!” Yihwa cries out, you sighing.

“No need to shout, I’m right here. I’m Y/N. I’m a Wave Controller, and I was sealed in the same room as Hoaqin.” You drawl. “I was sealed a while before him, though.”

“Y/N.” Looking over your shoulder, you see Rachel walking over.

“What is it.”

“Could you bind them? They’re valuable hostages.”

You shrug. “Got any rope? Oh, and bandages.”

She nods, handing over the materials and watching as you tie Yihwa before turning away.

Sitting down in front of Wangnan, you prepare the bandages, grabbing the top of his forearm and pulling it towards you. “This’ll have to do for now. Don’t squirm too much.” You begin wrapping the gash, him wincing and sucking air through his teeth as you do so, finishing soon after.

You then turn him around, tying him up.

The two hostages leaned against each other as you stood once more, briefly looking down at them before turning and walking to a wall, where you leaned against it, eyes closing.

They stare at you, confused about your intentions. You carefully wrapped Wangnan’s arm, and complimented them, but you also tied them up. They both jump as Hoaqin walks over, a frown on his face. He also crouches down, looking at both of them, before standing once more, sword over his shoulder. He huffs. “I don’t get it. Why did Y/N treat you like that? You’re both weak.”

His eyes narrow at them. “Still, they’re mine. Don’t forget.”

Turning, he walks up to you, the two on the ground watching as you open your eyes when he approaches, beginning to have a conversation with you.

They glance at each other.

“Y/N. You say you’re a Wave Controller, right?” Rachel begins, you glancing over. "How many Baangs can you create?"

You look away, eyes tracing the many details of the room, emptied by Hoaqin's impatience. "I never really focused on the offensive, so I only have four.”

"Four is still impressive." She compliments, smiling that untrustworthy smile of hers. "Baam can make five."

Your head tilts. "Like the explosive? Interesting name, I suppose."

She giggles. "No, it's spelled differently. Still, you'd probably know him better as Jue Viole Grace."

"Oh, him. Having five Baangs is rather admirable.” You yawn. This was the longest you’ve gone without sleeping in many, many years.

“You said that you never focused on offense much, right?” She asks, you humming in affirmation. “So the shinsu you use is mainly defensive?”

You nod. “It’s been a while since anything was able to pierce it. I have no clue as to my durability at this point, but I’ve worked on enhancing my Shinsu from the moment I entered this tower and the entire way through my sealings.”

“Wow, I bet you’re really tough.” She says, you mindlessly nodding.

The large doors in front of your group attract your eyes, staring with a raised eyebrow. As it opens, you casually walk in, ignoring the group and Hoaqin telling you to stop. You stare up at the large fish, its scales a glittering obsidian.

“This is the boss for Level 36?” You ask, the beast roaring. “What were they called again?” You wonder, continuing to stroll in, uncaring as both Hoaqin and the fish charged forward. “Deep-Sea King? No, that was from a manga…” You hum, thinking, suddenly snapping.

Hoaqin’s eyes widen as the fish coils around, blocking you from view as it consumes you.

His brows furrow, red hot anger coursing through his veins as he rushes forward, bringing his sword up. He hesitates, however, as he notices the creature’s body halt, quivering.

“These things are called Deep-Sea Fish.” You call out. “Right?”

Hoaqin, jumping onto the fish’s back, sees your hand, holding back its face from eating you whole. “Well, whatever it is, it can’t get through my defenses.”

Quickly, he swings his sword, effortlessly slashing through the beast’s thick scales, killing it near instantly. Jumping down to where you were, he sees you looking at the many slices that permeated its hide. “Hoaqin, that was-”

He cuts you off by whipping his blade to barely touch your neck, your eyes widening for less than a moment. Sighing, he moves it away, walking over to you before staring up at you, a snarl on his face. “Never do that again. If you had died, who knows what I would have done. Right now, I will be your reason for climbing the tower, and I refuse to climb further without you. Know that, and don't forget it.”

“I won’t, don’t worry.” You breathily answer, a sigh woven into your words.

“Good. You’re still mine.”

“You’re still on that…? Well, whatever floats your boat I guess.”

“You’re still underestimating me?! I killed that huge Deep-Sea Fish in one slice!”

“Hey, when did I say that? Besides, with how many pieces it's in, it looks like it took more than one slice.”

“It’s an Arie family specialty! It was only one slice, I promise you.”

“Okay. Whatever you say.”

“You’re still not taking me seriously!”

Laying on the futon, you see Daniel standing and Hoaqin sprawled out on his own.

“Man, I’m so hungry…” Hoaqin complains. “I’m craving souls, and also the death of that new Slayer Nominee.” He pauses, glancing over to your lazy form before shifting his sight to Daniel. “Hey, Viole will still chase us if I eat the hostages, right? It’s a win-win situation.”

“Stop the whining. We’ll be getting to the station soon, and you can eat as much as you want. Just be patient.” Daniel promises, Hoaqin huffing.

As Hoaqin begins to speak again, you let your eyes close, finally sleeping again.

It took him a little while to notice the fact that you were sleeping, him only realizing after Daniel had laid down and began resting up.

He sits up, moving to the end of his futon. Daniel glances over, seeing him brush your hair out of your face with a rather tranquil expression, his lips slightly upturned. His eyes held a familiar emotion, one that was close to the one he had seen with Roen…

But not quite the same. He seemed a bit more possessive, if how he threatened Wangnan and Yihwa meant anything.

"Say, Hoaqin…" Daniel starts, Hoaqin's expression falling as he looks over. "What's your relationship with them?"

"They're mine. Right now, they don't take me very seriously, but when I become complete again, I'll show them how serious I am." He pauses, looking back at you for a moment. "Do you have any devices I can use to track?" He asks.

Alright. He was more than a bit possessive.

Daniel nods. "You can get one from Rachel. We can track it using Emily."

"I can do that later."

“Attention, all regulars aboard the train.” The loudspeaker began, you awakening to its voice. “We will be arriving at the Wooden Horse Station on the 37th Floor shortly.”

It repeated its message, you sitting up and paying no heed to how close Hoaqin was. “Is it time to move again?” You ask, flexing your back and rolling your shoulders. Your question gets answered as Hoaqin stands, picking up his sword.

“Finally…” A smirk grows on his lips. “I can eat as much as I want.”

You stand up as well, grabbing the pillow as Daniel follows suit, minus the pillow.

As Daniel eyes you weirdly, you sigh, dropping the cushion and walking out behind the silver-haired Arie. He takes up the back the entire walk to the exit, even as you move to Hoaqin’s side.

“Finally! Let’s get out of here and feast!” Hoaqin celebrates, his fun ruined by the man behind him.

“Not yet. Let’s wait for a bit longer, there’s no good in causing a fuss this early.”

Hoaqin chuckles. “No. Why would I, when all that’s filling my ears are the sounds of fresh prey awaiting me?”

You yawn. “I’ve been listening to him complain for the past 600 years about how hungry he is. I’d rather not have to go through that again.”

“I’ll eat you.” Hoaqin threatens, you shrugging.

“If I actually believed you would, maybe I’d be scared.”

Hoaqin huffs, turning from you to the doors and striding forward. They begin to open, and you slip out right behind Hoaqin, managing to get past him before Daniel grabs him.

“Fresh air…” You mumble, hearing the squabbling behind you come to a stop. “I wonder how far it goes down.” You peer over the edge, staring down into the clouds.

“You better not try and check.” Hoaqin warns, abruptly getting yanked back into the train.

“Huh…” You say, stretching your arms above your head. “There sure are a lot of people here.”

The crowd was on guard, even more so as the doors reopened, Hoaqin stepping out again. “Y/N, take this.” He says, handing you a small device. You pocket it, and as he walks forward, his revival group joining you on the first platform.

“Hello, you cute little D-class.” He greets, continuing down the steps. “Oh my, some of you look so tasty…”

He laughs. “Still, I’m glad to see how many of you have showed up. You are all blessed, since you’re going to be my first meal. Now, let’s start this event, shall we?”

His lips turn up as he holds out his hand, thumb folded inward. “In order to get on this train, you will need to cut off four heads.”

The D-class begin to shout as you yawn once more, turning. “You have fun with that, I’ll be inside.”

Hoaqin glances back, brows slightly furrowed. You were avoiding the slaughter, huh?

Man, this wouldn’t be half as entertaining without you…

He would just have to enjoy what he could.

As the Regulars on the platform continue to shout, he lifts his sword, slashing through a group of them and stealing their souls.

“If need be, I will make you obey.”

You enter the room that you were in previously, flopping down with your face buried in your pillow.

You only lift your head as the lights flicker, small bolts of electricity traveling through the train’s metal sheeting. “Someone can use electricity…?” Standing up, you sigh. You wanted to sleep some more.

“Eventually I’ll have to go back to how it used to be…” You mumble, exiting the room. Before getting sealed, you worked tirelessly, climbing and training, day and night. Sleep was foreign to your overworked body, so it was a welcome break when you were trapped in a coma for half a millennia and then got to sleep so much for the other half.

Walking down the hall, you see a head of short white hair a bit further up. “Hey, who’re you?” You call, the boy turning. “You look a lot like Hoaqin.”

“So, you know another me. Could you lead me to him?”

“Sure. Just follow me.”

As you begin to walk with the other Hoaqin, he looks up at you. “Are you one of his henchmen?”

“Not really. We got stuck in the same room for 600 years… Oh. looks like they’ve escaped. Wangnan, Yihwa!”

The two turn to face you, not expecting to hear your voice, especially raised. With wide eyes, they notice the boy at your side.

“Hoaqin?!” Wangnan yelps, you approaching before stopping due to the knife pointed at your throat.

“I’m not gonna turn you in or whatever. Also yeah, this is Hoaqin, but not the one you knew.”

Hesitantly, the Heavenly Mirror is lowered from your neck.

“As they said, I am Hoaqin. Now, let’s head for where the other me is. I’d guess he’s looking for me as well.”

You nod, looking at the two behind you from over your shoulder.

“You coming?”

#hoaqin x reader #hoaqin #hoaquin #yandere tower of god #tower of god x reader #tower of god #yandere x reader #yandere #x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #gender neutral #yeon yihwa #yihwa #wangnan #wangnan ja #white #white x reader

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pippki-writes · 3 years ago

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An Ill-Fitting Name: Snippet 1

Asmodai was his name, because he had stolen it along with the life of the wizard it had belonged to before. It wasn’t the first name he had taken in this way, but it was the name he got stuck with, through every fault of his own.

It is said among some legends that the seventh son of a seventh son will be born lucky, or have magical powers, but nothing much is said about the third sons of third sons, which is what Asmodai was, before his name was Asmodai. Was he born wrong, or was he made that way? None of his siblings turned out the way he did--not that he knows how they turned out. They each scattered to the winds in their own different ways, avoiding an often absent overworked father and obsessively violent alcoholic mother. These are not excuses, merely the catalysts that would put the boy that Asmodai had been in the care of a certain psychotic mage who would mold Asmodai into the terror he would become. Like recognizes like, and the older man must have seen the seed of something wrong in that boy, to take him as an apprentice. To teach him dark magic, and the depths of psychological manipulation, how to draw energy from blood and how to make a body disappear where no cop would find it. Like recognizes like, but they were not completely alike. If they had been, then surely the older man would have seen the glint in the eyes of the boy, and known before it was too late that he had taught too much. But no. Overconfidence was his downfall. He wasn’t the first person the boy killed, but his was the first name and power he took fully for his own. What was his name? What had it been? It hardly mattered now. Asmodai has had many names, more than he can be expected to keep up with. You might expect him at least to remember the first, but you would be wrong. He doesn’t even remember his own name, having bound and locked it away, somewhere far and deep, safe in his subconscious, on the day he killed the twisted man who taught him magic.

Asmodai remembers more than enough of what does matter. He remembers the callused, sandpapery skin of a firm hand pinching his chin between an unforgiving thumb and forefinger, the piercing blue eyes of the man that would be his mentor forcing him to meet his gaze, looking deep into his soul and all the dark unnamed desires squirming within. It was not the first time Asmodai had run away, but it was the first time someone besides the police had caught him.

“You’ve suffered,” said the older man appreciatively, after the silence between them had stretched nearly to unbearable. The man let go of Asmodai and held out his hand. “Wouldn’t you like to make sure that others suffer too?”

Names are powerful things. Before that day, Asmodai had not understood what it was he wanted from the world, but the man who would be his mentor had named exactly what he wanted. He wanted to make sure that other people suffered. As soon as it was spoken and given a shape, he knew it to be true.

And he was good at it.

Was. Was good at it. And now? Asmodai swears, the rage in his heart as white-hot as it was that day nearly a month ago when that bitch as good as stole his magic from him. Sure, he can kill the old-fashioned way, as nearly every other serial killer does, but he had a certain style and freedom he enjoyed that was impossible to achieve when bound by the regular laws of nature. And he isn’t willing to accept yet that this may be all that remains to him.

Asmodai reflects on these things from a motel room that has come to feel like a prison cell. He can leave whenever he wants, but where would he go? What would he do, when he can’t do whatever he wants to whomever he wants to do it to? He rips open the day’s single serve coffee packet and jams it in the little electric coffee maker on the worn desk. It will taste terrible, as every other near-instant coffee he’s made here has tasted, but he wants to drink something as bitter as he feels.

His memory jumps around as the machine hisses and burbles with purpose. He traces back the well-worn path of where and why everything went wrong, as if that could change any part of what happened. The first misstep, years ago in New York City, when the ill whims of fate crossed his path with the path of that damned witch. He underestimated her then, and, well, perhaps that had been a frequent mistake of his, now that he thought about it. He had thought himself stronger, able to call upon darker and more powerful magic than she could. His hand drifts to the mottled skin marking the nine-pointed scar where her curse had taken out his right eye all those years ago. What had he thought, that she’d simply gotten lucky? That he could truly make her pay for this? How wrong he had been.

New York City, though he doesn’t remember exactly the year--perhaps 2011? 2012? The year didn’t matter, and so he didn’t commit it to memory. Vengeance is timeless. He remembers what matters: the warm, approving sun on his skin, and he fresh from having magically turned a man inside out, hiding the body with a flick of his fingers deep at the bottom of the Hudson River. It was time to find his next name, and no community of magic users in the country was bigger than the network in New York City. He could probably have his pick of any name he wanted here. As far as names went, ‘Asmodai’ was a little strange. It had suited the wizard he took it from in its way, and sure, had served him well in the time since, but he didn’t want to get attached to any one name, lest it gain power over him. And so it was time to leave Asmodai behind and take a new name. He shuddered with delight, sweet memories of Asmodai’s murder playing in his mind. What a violently erotic affair that had been. Asmodai...it was almost a pity to have killed a young man so beautiful, naive, and foolish as he had been, but his terror, his tears, had all been the most delicious yet. Surely this next kill would be even better.

He took a deep breath, bringing his attention back. First things first, he needed to find said magical community. Make friends, insinuate himself into the social scene, find the next name that would suit him. No need to rush. This was his favorite kind of hunt, and it would no doubt take months to complete. He already knew that trying to detect magic would be pointless—the city was teeming with it. He closed his rich brown eyes, and focused on the flow of magic within the city. He would find where it collected, perhaps, and work his way from there. Who he found didn’t matter, he just needed someone to start with. The flow of magic seemed to be leading north, toward the center of the city. Made sense. Time to walk. He opened his eyes, and was surprised to find a young woman looking at him with a knowing smile. She held out her hand as their eyes met.

“Call me Elaine,” she said, her hazel eyes sharp and playful on him, sizing him up. “You must be the new mage in town.”

What luck, he remembers thinking. What fantastic fortune. The universe wanted him to have this. He gave her the same winning smile that had lured so many others to their deaths. “Asmodai,” he said, shaking her hand. He looked like a kid caught out sneaking dessert before dinner, sheepishly running a hand through his sandy brown curls, smiling appreciatively. “How did you know?”

She winked at him. “Let’s call it word on the street. I said the word, and here we are, on the street.”

“Ah, a secret then.” She wasn’t exactly his favorite type, he thought, but he wasn’t going to turn down what fate offered. “Say, what do you like to do for fun around here?”

She would have been his ticket in. He should have just taken her rejection in stride, taken his time, taken it out on her much later, with a better grasp on who she was, what her weaknesses were. But something about her made him want to make her suffer. Who the fuck did she think she was, to tell him no? There would be other magic users. The bookshop owner, perhaps, if he could ever find his way back there. No, his mind was made up the moment she turned him down, and he smoothed over any awkwardness that could have blossomed with seemingly patient understanding. He knew that he would make her pay, and he would do it that very night. He paid little attention to the overtures of friendship that evening, and so doesn’t remember exactly where they drank and ate, what sights they saw, because it didn’t matter. He played the part he wanted her to believe in perfectly, and that was what mattered. He hardly had to work to get the opportunity he needed.

Binding spells were one of his specialties--among the first spells he had ever learned. It was easy--cutting through a dark alley, no witnesses, and her attention was elsewhere as she led the way. In no time she was frozen, immoble before him, a wild fear in her eyes, and everything felt right. The binding held fast. He would have his way, and then he would kill her. He smiled. He grabbed her by the chin, testing that he was in control, turning her head this way and that, a horrifically mad glint in his eyes.

“Oh Elaine,” he’d said, mocking the syllables. “Though I know that can’t be your true name, it doesn’t matter. First I’ll take you, then I’ll take your life, and I’ll take my time working my way through this city until I’m satisfied. Eventually someone here is bound to have exactly what I want. Even if you don’t.” He paused, his hand cupping her cheek. “Enough talk, I think.” His hand slipped around to the back of her neck, his fingers clenching roughly in her hair until she winced in pain. His magic kept her silenced, but he left her face just free enough that he would get to see every spasm of suffering.

“Good girl,” he whispered, pulling harder. “I will enjoy every bit of this.” He leaned in, crushing their lips together to steal a kiss.

Well, that had been his intention. Would he have seen what was coming, if he’d left his eyes open? Their lips met, and then a sharp, unexpected pain. His lip was between Elaine’s teeth, and she had bit down hard, quickly drawing blood until her mouth was full of it. He had no time to react. She spat out a blood curse, wild and blindly--no sound, just a sudden explosion of ripping agony centered in his right eye. Asmodai screamed, staggering back, his concentration broken, the binding spell dropped, blood everywhere. On instinct his hand had flown to his face, feeling ruin beneath his fingertips. He pulled his hand away and looked down at it. Red, absolutely covered. Pain so searing he almost couldn’t think through his rage. He looked up at her.

She was a terrifying sight. His blood ran down her chin. Unfamiliar sigils marked her face, glowing against her skin. Her eyes--they were something else, hazel irises gone, and in their place two glowing red Xs focused in anger on him, and it was at that point he realized that now he couldn’t move.

“You are not welcome here, you are not welcome in this city,” she hissed, “and if I ever see you again, I will kill you.”

He doesn’t remember through the haze of pain exactly what she did, but next thing he knew he was suddenly outside the city limits, blood streaming from a wound he could not get to heal, and utterly unable to get back in.

Before that day, Asmodai’s entire goal in life had been to make other people suffer. He added a new purpose to that short list: make that bitch pay for what she had done to him.

It would be years before an opportunity would present itself. To start with, that bitch never left New York City, and no matter what he tried, he couldn’t get in.

He learned that no healer he found could get the scar to go away. He had had the sort of face men and women both found beautiful, before. A face it was easy to fall in love with. The first healer, a skilled young man of discretion not in the habit of asking unpleasant questions, had been very apologetic when his magic could do nothing. Asmodai killed him anyway.

He also learned that there was something about being cursed that other magic users could now pick up on. No matter what silky lies he told about how he got that scar, they all seemed to sense something off. No makeup could hide it. No glamor could conceal it. No good wizard would get close to him now, their guards up, their names far out of his grasp.

In time, he was content to roam the country, killing as pleased him, waiting for his opportunity to come. Surely a day would come that she would set foot outside her city. He set up spells that would let him know when she did. He waited.

Asmodai looks at the paper cup in his hand, the oil-slick sheen of the coffee surely too hot to drink. If he had his magic, he thinks irritably, this could be a perfect cup of coffee, exactly the right temperature to drink, the taste exquisite regardless of how stale the beans were that made it. But no. His opportunity had come, and not only had he wasted it, he’d gotten himself completely fucked over for his effort.

He sniffs the coffee. Smells awful. Gingerly, he hovers his tongue toward the liquid. It’s clearly too hot. He sets the cup down, and thinks back to that night. As if turning the memories over in his mind will give him peace this time, when it hasn’t every other time before.

He had, over the years, imagined thousands of ways to torture and kill her. So why, when there she was before him again, had his mind gone completely blank? A thousand ways to make her suffer, and suddenly he had forgotten them all. His heart raced, secretly thrilled with possibility as he worked to bind her to the spot on the ground where she had appeared. He approached her, smooth and unhurried, and spoke.

“At last, at last I can finish what we started.”

Her hair was longer, he noticed, pulled back in a sensible ponytail. She wore reading glasses that she hadn’t worn the last time they’d met. But the look of wild rage in her surprised eyes when she saw him and shouted “YOU!” --that felt very familiar.

Her shock gave him an easy opening to bind her leg to the ground. “Mmm, didn’t you say you were going to kill me if you saw me again?” he said lightly, looking around expectantly. “All talk, I suppose.”

“Maybe I have better things to do,” she replied, glaring at him, her face darkening.

“Is that right?” he smiled, but it was a cold smile that did not reach his eye. He focused on trying to bind first her right arm, then her left, but he could feel her fighting it, warding him off.

“Yes,” she said. “I’ve come around. Death is one of those too good for you kind of things. I think it’s better for someone like you to suffer.”

He should have had the upper hand, ambushing her as he did. But she must have been stronger than he realized, because the magic was so damn slippery and he couldn’t get her arms bound. The other leg then, he thought, changing his focus.

“I see the eye failed to heal quite nicely,” she called out. “Would you like the other one to match?”

“Shut UP, witch!” he growled. He pulled out his pocket knife, cutting his hand, drawing upon his own bloodshed in magic to get her other leg bound. “Enough TALK. I will torture you. I will dominate you. And I will slowly, slowly kill you.” He began walking toward her, taking in the sight of her as he could feel the binding slowly catching along her left arm. He had been too focused on his own spell to pay attention to what she had been doing. He remembered hearing her chuckle, and then the feeling of being violently knocked unconscious.

He sips the coffee, which manages to somehow be both watery and still bitter to the point of being sour. When he came to that night, she was gone. And if she’d stayed gone, everything might have been okay. He could have regrouped, come up with a better plan. Taken the time to see through the blinding anger and bloodlust, to figure out what he would need to do to overpower her.

He got back to his motel room that night, all blunt force trauma and broken ribs from being slammed into the nearest tree by a concussive magic blow. Healing isn’t Asmodai’s specialty, but he knows a little to get by. He slipped into his bed, settling into a sort of meditative healing state, thinking pleasing thoughts--remembering the feeling of his fingers on the thin and pretty throat of the wizard’s lover as she died, and god what a fantastic feeling that had been, as the man who had held the name Asmodai was frozen, unable to move, only able to cry. How long ago now that had been. The wizard Asmodai had loved him too, and that made it all the sweeter, what he had done.

These were the things he was thinking when he felt his blood stir in a way it shouldn’t have, as the door to his motel room slammed open, and there she stood. That fucking bitch, with power and murder in her eyes. She had bound him to the bed.

“Shhh,” she said, her binding spell squeezing his throat, silencing him. “We aren’t done.” The spell pressed down on his chest, tears springing to his eyes from the pain. This was not right. She had no right to do this to him. She had left. Why was she here? How had she found him? Her magic dragged him down, making space for her to climb up and sit cross-legged at the head of the bed. She dragged him back up to her, putting her hands on his temples as he looked around wildly.

“I do hope this hurts.”

He couldn’t tell what she was doing, but all the telltale signs of her magic at work began to show, her terrifying face aglow with sigils, her eyes gone and the glow of red Xs in their place. He felt a ripping sensation in his memory, and then a curse taking shape, constraints being threaded around him. As she began to root her curses deep in his mind, through the pain he could hear the echoes of it as she did.

Who cares if you know who I am, what I look like, or any of that, if it triggers a complete temporary loss of all magic and movement when you so much as think of me?

Know that I did this. Be infuriated. And be utterly powerless to do a damned thing about it.

He doesn’t remember exactly what she said next. He was not listening. He was in howling, excruciating pain, unable to move, unable to scream. She took his knife from his pocket, stabbed him in the side, and filled a vial with his blood.

“Just in case,” she said. Asmodai felt like the pain would tear him apart.

“You’ll be able to move eventually. Once you stop thinking about me.”

It was days before he had been able to move again.

Even now, he thinks, gulping down the last of the brackish coffee, he’s not moving because he overcame her curse. She took pity on him. The very thought fills him with a roiling, sickening anger all over again. She had appeared in his motel room once more, the magic of it splitting the air with a deafening crack.

“It would be funny, honestly, to let you die like this,” she had said, walking up to him as he lay there, seething and immobile.

“I think I’ll keep you like this when I’m around. But perhaps I’ll be benevolent enough to allow you some movement when I’m not near. Would you like that?”

His anger pinned him in place, unable to move, unable to speak. This was nearly how he had spent all his time since she’d left: simmering in his hatred, imagining violence that he couldn’t act on.

“I ought to make you beg for even that,” she said as she summoned her magic, her hands stretching out for his temples, “but I am nothing if not benevolent…”

He could feel her reaching into his mind, a horrible and unpleasant sensation, her countenance as terrifying as before. But he could also feel her tweaking the curse, freeing him to be able to move if she wasn’t there. The restriction on his magic, however, she left alone.

She lifted her hands away from him, her face returning to normal. As he watched, she held her hand out over his chest, magically probing to see which of his ribs was the worst off. For a split second, she acted like she was going to press on it, then grinned wickedly at him.

“No, I wouldn’t,” she said, standing up instead. “Hate me all you want. You can’t do anything about it.” She disappeared from his room with another ear-splitting crack.

Tentatively, Asmodai sat up. He screamed, in spite of how much it hurt to do so, and punched the wall until his knuckles were bruised and bloodied. He stared at his hands when the immediate white hot rage cooled down, and couldn’t even use his magic to heal them.

That had been a little over a month ago now. She hadn’t returned. And neither had his magic. He throws the empty paper cup in the little trash can, and stares down the hopelessness of another day.

- NEXT SNIPPET -

#an ill-fitting name #My writing #original story #original work #original writing #original fiction #magic fiction #Magic murderer #Snippets

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liahswriting · 4 years ago

Text

Piercings

Relationship(s): Octane/Original Female Character (platonic)

Words: 1,966

Warnings: None

Summary: Octane talks about his piercings.

"How many piercings do you have?"

The question wasn't exactly out of the blue; she had been curious about Octavio's modifications before and often asked about his tattoos. He gladly explained to her about his prosthetics and had no shame in showing off all the ink adorning his skin and explaining the reasoning for getting each piece. Of course, most of his reasonings were "why not?". She found him interesting in many ways. Mostly it was because he was so incredibly different from her. While Octavio was always on his feet and constantly looking for another thrill, she was content to stay at home and relax. He did everything with speed, she was meticulous and careful. He loved to party and was a social butterfly, she could have just as much fun with a glass of wine and a nice dinner. He was overtly sexual, she was naïve. He was covered in tattoos and piercings, she didn't have any.

How they became friends, no one will ever know. Ajay Che liked to say that she was a nice balance for Octavio. Che often told her that he needed someone to keep him in check since he stopped caring about what Che thinks long ago. Whatever the case may be, she enjoyed having Octavio as a friend; he made her life interesting.

"You mean that I have now or that I've had altogether?"

"Both, I guess." she answered and he hummed in thought. He sat back on the couch, eyes turning every which way and fingers keeping track of the number. She watched in silence from beside him with her elbow pressed against the back of the couch and her head pressed against her palm.

"17" he finally said.

"Where?"

"Right eyebrow, tongue, bottom lip," he used his fingers to point at where the piercings were. "I have this part of my nose pierced," he pressed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. "Used to have this part pierced," he then moved his fingers to the middle cartilage of his nose. She watched his fingers move in fascination. She wondered how he could possibly wear his mask and goggled while in the arena with all of his facial piercings. "Three on on my right ear, four on my left, and then I used to have my nipples pierced."

"What happened to the nose and nipple piercings?"

"Nose piercing got ripped off and the nipple piercings just got in the way so I took them out."

"Which one hurt the most?"

"Why all the questions?" Octavio challenged with a smirk. He threw one arm across the back of the couch, knocking against her elbow and forcing her to shift her position.

"Just wondering." she shrugged.

"Mhm. Come on, mami. Di la verdad."

"I don't speak Spanish, Tavi."

"Tell me the truth." he translated.

"I've been thinking about getting one." she said slowly, unable to meet his eyes.

"What?!" he jumped up straight on the couch and now fully turned his body to face her. He had a wide grin on his face. "You are thinking about getting a piercing? And you weren't gonna tell me?"

"I was just thinking about it, Tav. It's not set in stone."

"Come on, chica! You gotta get one!"

"I'm just worried it's gonna hurt a lot."

"If you're worried about the pain, don't be. Even the worst piercing won't hurt for too long."

"And how long is too long?"

"The worst piercing I've ever gotten only hurt for like a week."

"Which one was that?" she asked him again but he didn't provide a verbal answer. Instead, he just smirked at her. "Which one?" she repeated but still no answer. Did he want her to guess? "Was it on your ears?" he shook his head. "Your tongue?"

"Nope. Think lower."

"Your nipples?"

"Nope."

"Then which....?" her sentence trailed off as the cogs in her brain slowly started working. Her eyes mapped out all of the places Octavio had told her he had pierced, carefully counting each piercing. "Wait, you only told me 14. Where were the other 3?" He smirked at her once again. He wanted her to say it. He wanted to hear the surprise in her voice as she said it.

"Come on, chica. Use your brain." he taunted.

"Was it...." she used her hand to circle the air above his private instead of having to vocalize it. Her face burned in embarrassment but that only caused him to laugh at her expense.

"Correcta, bonita."

"Why!" she exclaimed.

"Why not?"

"But doesn't it hurt?"

"Not anymore. Like I said, a week max."

"I can not believe there are men out there who get their... their.... thing pierced."

"Aye, there are women who get their clits pierced." Octavio informed her.

"But whyyyy? I could never do that!"

"To each their own."

"Maybe I just shouldn't get a piercing." she shuddered. "I don't do good with pain."

"No! Come on! You have to get one. I promise it's not that bad."

"I don't even know what I'd get. I was only thinking about it."

"Well then let's talk about it. I can give you a pain rating for each of my piercings to help you decide. And I can go with you when you get it done."

She thought about it for a moment. She wasn't exactly sure if she really wanted to go through with this but it couldn't hurt to at least get some more information. So she nodded at him and he began telling her about each of his piercings and how much it hurt to get. He gave her a pain rating for when he was getting it pierced, for when it was healing, and for now after it was all completely healed. He told her how to keep piercings clean, how to change out the barbells, and what to expect as they heal.

Several days had passed since that conversation and Octavio kept asking her if she made a decision yet. Each time she told him no and he'd drop the subject for awhile until his curiosity got the better of him and he'd ask again. He gave his opinion every chance he got.

"You should get your tongue pierced." he told her.

"I don't know." she said back.

"Your lips don't hurt that much." he informed.

"Maybe." she thought.

"You'd look good with your nipples pierced." he laughed and she gasped at him.

"Octavio Silva!" she slapped at his shoulder and furrowed her eyebrows. He merely laughed a deep belly laugh. "I'm not getting my nipples pierced! Besides, I already made up my mind."

"What!" he jumped in place. "Tell me!"

"I want to get an ear piercing. I figured that would be my safest bet and it wouldn't be too eccentric or out of place."

"Esto es increíble! When will you get it done?"

"My appointment's tomorrow." she said nervously. "You're gonna come with me, right?"

"Of course, hermana! Don't worry, I'll be right beside you."

"Thanks. I'm still kind of nervous."

"It'll be over before you know it!" he assured.

The entire day went by incredibly slow and that night she had trouble keeping asleep. She didn't know why she was working herself up this much. It won't be as bad as she thinks it will but she still found trouble keeping calm. By morning, she was a fidgeting mess. She spent the whole morning with Octavio as she waited for her appointment time and the whole morning he was asking if she was alright. Despite her fears, she told him she was okay. He didn't buy it, of course, but he didn't pressure her in fear of scaring her even more than she already was. Once her appointment time got closer, Octavio got a cab for them to take them to the piercing parlor. Once there, her entire stomach flipped and she felt queasy.

"You sure you're okay?" Octavio asked worriedly.

"I'll be fine. Let's just get this over with."

"Look, you don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"It's just the pain I'm worried about."

"Everything will be just fine. Come on, take my hand." he held his hand out towards her and she let him take her hand. He lead her inside the place where she checked in for her appointment. It took 10 excruciating long minutes for the room to be prepped and ready for her. 10 long minutes of her brain just going haywire and second-guessing itself but before she could cancel her plans, they called her back and Octavio carefully helped her into the room and onto a table.

"So what are we having done today?" the piercer asked her as he put on some rubber gloves.

"I want to get my industrial pierced." she murmured out. The piercer looked at her questioningly.

"Are you sure that's what you want to do?"

"She's just nervous about it hurting." Octavio answered for her.

"Most first-timers are. I promise to be as gentle and quick as possible." he said and she nodded back. As the piercer was prepping her ear with disinfectant and marking off the spots where the needle was to go through, Octavio was soothing her with words of comfort.

"Squeeze my hand if it hurts." he said to her and she took a hold of said hand tightly in her fist. When the piercer asked her if she was ready, she nodded, took a deep breath, and gave an encouraging squeeze to Octavio's hand. She could feel the needle first prick through the top of her ear and the drag through the hole it just created. She squeezed Octavio's hand tighter and hissed between her teeth. Then the needle pierced through the bottom of her ear and completely stopped all motion. It was a weird sensation having a piece of metal stuck in her skin. The open wound rubbed harshly against the needle, making her eyes water profusely. Her grip on Octavio's hand did very little to take her mind off of the pain. His voice didn't do much to distract her either. It was then that the piercer moved the needle again and took it out of her ear, in it's place was a barbell. The piercer was careful not to tug the object as he screwed on the end ball to keep it from falling out of her ear.

"All done." she heard him say.

"See, that wasn't so bad." Octavio reassured. He wiped his free thumb over her cheeks to wipe away the tears that had fallen but she couldn't see him passed the tears that had gathered in her eyes. Once the piercer had gone over how to take care of the piercing, he got up to escort her back to the front for payment. But when she stood, she wobbled on her feet and almost toppled over. Octavio caught her before she could fall.

"You okay? You feel nauseous?" asked Octavio.

"No. Just woozy."

"Here, you sit for a moment, I'll go pay."

When she nodded back to him, he got up and left her alone. She took long, deep breaths to regain herself and dried her eyes with a tissue. Her head didn't feel any less dizzy but she was confident she wasn't going to pass out, so once Octavio was finished with paying the man for his services, she allowed him to help her back out to the cab to take them back to his place. He kept an arm around her at all times just to be sure she wasn't going to collapse. She didn't collapse, but she did rest her head against his shoulder and he tangled his fingers in her hair.

"Thanks for coming with me." she murmured.

"Any time, bonita."

#apex legends #octane #octavio silva #fanfiction #imagine

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toloveawarlord · 4 years ago

Text

Ch. 1

Characters: Vira, Vlad, Charles, Faust + some main cast

Tagging: @plumpblueberry

A/N: Have my most recent Ikevamp OC! I realize that I have only posted 2 of my many ocs for this game so I am remedying that with this series! Note that this story is much darker than my other series, and will have adult content (next chapter and forward) and descriptive violence and gore, possibly even torture. It’s dark my friends.

WARNINGS: 18+ Violence and Descriptive Gore

Metallic warmth coated her pale lips and slipped passed to spread across her tongue, like finding a single droplet of water after a century in the blazing heat of the desert that left her achingly parched. Stiff limbs regaining their ability to feel as the blood coated her throat, slowly giving life to that which had been rendered inanimate for an inhumanly amount of time.

Golden eyes opened for the first time in too long, unfocused, and blurry but the sight of simply the crumbling concrete ceiling of the mausoleum made her tingle with excitement. Her tongue slithered past her cracked lips to swipe away the last bit of blood that stained her red.

“Easy, Vira. You’ve plenty of time to regain your strength.”

Her lashes fluttered, words unable to escape her mouth that refused to work, too weak. The only thing that her voice could make was raspy, guttural laughter from deep within. Resurrected by Vlad, not her own father, boded well for her to return to Paris and paint it a gloriously deep crimson.

What fun would she soon have with this newfound freedom from eternal, restless slumber.

******

“Uncle Vlad, I’m grateful that you resurrected me. I’ll assume my father has no idea you’ve found me,” Vira sat upright on the slab of stone that used to be her resting place, the small vial of blood drained completely into her body and giving it the strength she once lacked. Though not blood related, the girl had spent so much time with the older vampire that she’d grown quite fond of him as part of her family. After all, he had been the one to side with her, believe in her, and allow her all the fun her heart desired.

The white-haired vampire extended his hand to her as his head shook in answer to question. Of course, her father couldn’t know of his plans to bring the child back, or he’d surely have hidden her body somewhere less likely to be discovered. “My apologies that you had to endure such cruel torture from him, and that I couldn’t rescue you sooner.”

Vira placed her dainty hand in his, accepting the assistance in standing. The amount of blood given to her not near enough to quench the painful thirst of a century without that vital nectar. Golden eyes flickered to the two lingering by the entrance to the mausoleum. “Can I drain them?”

“We are vampires ourselves, under Lord Vlad.” The taller one spoke with gruff and disdain. Though stories had been told of this wicked vampire, the priest found her lacking of the pedestal that he’d perceived her to be placed on. A dainty little thing, perfect for experimentation.

“So? Blood is blood, and I’m terribly thirsty.”

Vlad tightened his grip on her hand after the first malicious step she took toward them. “Faust, there’s no need to antagonize her. And Vira, darling, refrain from killing what’s mine or I’ll have to punish you.” The point pushed by the pain from the bones in her hand nearing their breaking point.

The girl gave a resigned sigh with a pout on her lips. “Breaking my bones isn’t necessary, Uncle Vlad. I wouldn’t do anything to harm those that you are fond of. All you need is to tell me.” Her head tilted to the side and the pout disappeared, slipping into a crooked smile. How long it had been since she last felt pain. Truthfully, it sent a shiver down her entire body to be on the brink of such an excruciating feeling. “Although, even if you say I shouldn’t visit my dear father, I won’t be able to resist. I owe him a little chaos for leaving me here.”

Flashes of that night arose from her deepest memories. Hours upon hours of dripping crimson blood onto the floor, not from her doing but spilled from her body. A rancid smell as the feeling in herself faded into a sedated, comatose state. By his hand.

Vira took in a deep breath once outside the crusty mausoleum that sat atop a hill far outside of the city of Paris. Land owned by the oldest vampire families and the burial ground for their beloved pet humans and outcast members that had been subjected to the same punishment that had befell her. Some especially dangerous were encased and hidden for none to discover.

The chilled wind crept over her form as if welcoming her back into the world with it’s harsh, frigid bite against pale skin. Leaves rattled in the trees like a fanfare. Moonlight reflecting in golden orbs shimmering with newfound purpose and an ungodly lust for the taste of human blood. It thrummed in her ears, even from this distance. A world of delectable decadence in the unsuspecting town that the vampire wished to indulge herself in.

“I’ve prepared a room for you at my home, whenever you’ve had your fill of fun tonight.” Vlad chuckled at her longing expression. First, she’d feed on a handful of unfortunate souls and then pay her visit to his longtime friend before scuttling home to him. Her mood would surely be lifted after this excursion and he could speak of his plans.

Vira adventured out into the night, like a grim reaper descending on the innocent townspeople out only to drink and be merry. Picking them off one by one, the little sheep falling prey to the frightfully starving wolf. The throbbing of their veins as her sharp fangs pierced their corroded paired with the thumping of their rapid heartbeat only drove her to find more humans to drain.

The struggling fizzled out, even the strongest of men unable to overpower the slight vampire. Pinning them against the rough brick wall of the alley, digging her knee into their stomach to keep them steady. The bite causing them to spiral into a state of surreal pleasure even as she gulped down their delectable, warm blood.

Golden irises reflected in their fear-stricken eyes. Her tongue sliding across crimson stained lips. Vira spent time with them, bringing them down from their high with a snap of one of their bones, only to sink in her fangs again to mask the pain with unbelievable euphoria. A shiver snaking down her own body. Their cries of pain and pleasure so delicious.

When their life ebbed away, she disposed of them by letting their bodies crumple to the ground, left in the dark alley to rot with the trash.

In a hazy state of ecstasy, Vira turned her sights on the mansion outside of town. Her strength fully returned; color brought back to her pale skin. Perhaps by morning, she’d dye the sky the same deep crimson that stained the streets of Paris.

The door unlocked. Quite dangerous, but it only proved that he believed no ill intent would come this far. What did vampires have to fear from weak humans? Vira took a deep breath. Fresh food of all varieties, a handful of lesser vampires gathered closely, and him.

Her hands trembled in anticipation. The prospect of destroying the picturesque evening and seeing how he’ll react. Will he be angry? Or maybe she’ll get a real treat and see utter despair and heart break. Her body was alight with tingly eagerness.

Once upon a time, she’d resided in this very mansion. Walking these halls, seeing little changes save for the gaggle of lesser vampires leaving their scent heavily over the house, it ignited the desire to watch it burn and crumble.

Tugging the door open, all the attention fell onto her. The eight seated around the table wearing varying degrees of confusion across their feature. Neither of the two who knew her were present.

What fun!

“Mademoiselle, how did you come to find this mansion?” The butler asked, hiding the deeper question behind a feigned smile. Why did you enter without permission? A human. His scent strong enough to wet her mouth with appetite that should have been filled after the jaunt in town.

Her desire for blood never truly satiated. Vira brought a lazy smile to her lips. Humans were less intimidated by friendly demeanor, weren’t they?

Maybe just a little...

“I shall inform M. Le Comte of an unexpected guest.”

Vira halted, head falling to the side at his words. Golden eyes sweeping over the array of utensils perfectly placed for each dish. His steps echoed in time with the beating of his heart.

“Are you a friend of Comte’s?” A gentle voice spoke from beside her. Cerulean blue eyes holding no amount of ill intent, only genuine curiosity.

She was hot. Every fiber of her being reacting to that name like fiery lava about to erupt from the depths of a volcano. Rage like acid, burning and potent enough to disintegrate anything that dared enter her path.

The large bird awaiting to be carved supplied two tools. A slicing knife sharpened to easily slice the meat, and a two-pronged carving fork to hold it steady.

They sounded friendly. As if they liked the damn man.

Vira jabbed the prongs down into the blonde man’s hand until it refused to sink further than the wooden table, freshly spilled blood filling her nostrils. Even vampire’s blood could be tasty when was spilled in tandem with pain.

She could hardly enjoy the cry of agony.

Chaos erupted around her, their movements like wading through thick tar in her vision. All drowned out by the pounding in her head. Wrath scorching, like fire lighting in her veins. Narrowed eyes locked onto the butler that nearly escaped her grasp but not quite quick enough. The knife embedded into the inside of his shoulder blade.

“Sit. Down.” Words hissed at anyone who dared to defy the insanity that had waltzed into their home that evening. Golden irises aflame.

They deserved to be hurt, broken, shredded into tiny pieces. Skinned down to their bones, muscles and tendons carved off their bodies. Rip their eyes from their sockets, and force them to devour it, choke on its bloody sinews.

“Broer!” A foreign tongue roared from beside her. He towered over her small form, his own anger only that of a spark compared to the seething rage that radiated from the girl.

Vira caught his arm as his elbow thrust into her chest, drawing her ire upon him. Her strength far outweighed any lesser vampire. Like the snapping of a twig, she twisted his forearm back. The sickening crack of the bone breaking into two pieces wasn’t the end.

It didn’t satisfy her at all.

As the man sank to his knees in absolute agony. Her foot slammed into his side, leveraging her to pull the broken limb taught. “Would you like me to rip it off? I wonder which will give first. The mangled bone or the shoulder. Let’s find out-”

“Stop this madness!” Blade pressed against her throat; the soldier spoke with such authority he managed to gain her attention.

Her head lolled back, black, and red strands of hair falling away from her face. A devilish grin on her lips. “Are you planning to slice open my throat if I don’t? It’s too bad you wouldn’t be the first to do so.” Releasing the man like a child dropping a toy they’d lost interest in, Vira shifted her body to face the newcomer.

The tip of his blade digging into her shoulder, intentionally done by her. Jade green eyes narrowed, standing his ground against the girl. “You’ve no place in this home.”

Wide-eyed, Vira burst out laughing, the sound off put by the whining and groaning of the three indisposed men. He’d only confirmed what she suspected that he had locked her away like an ill-kept secret, a skeleton in his closet that he planned to hide for the rest of eternity. “You aren’t his family. You’re his pieces on a chess board, pawns to be used to cure his boredom of immortality.”

She shoved the sword away with her palm, letting it cut into her skin. The feeling of pain sending a shiver over her being. Calculated steps, quick and unread, the pureblood had the man shoved against the wall. Fangs sunk into his neck.

Whatever he may be, his blood unlike anything that she’d tasted previously. Not fully human, but not quite vampire, some abomination in between the two species, lost in limbo of life and death. Her eyes rolled back as a moan rumbled in her throat. Every last drop.

A rough hand gripped the back of her neck, throwing the girl away from her prey before she could fully take his life. Her body thumping against the floor, knocking all the air from her lungs. “How rude, Leo. I wasn’t finished.” Her crimson coated tongue swiped a missed droplet off her chin.

“You haven’t changed, cara mia. I thought that Comte had banished you.” Leonardo narrowed his eyes, supporting the weakened soldier who could barely stand.

“Banished? Oh, if only.” Vira climbed back to her feet, brushing her hands together as she checked for any injuries. To her dismay, no broken bones to play with. “But, why ruin the surprise. He’ll admit to his sins in due time. I only came by to say a little hello.” Her gaze swept across the dining hall.

Leonardo shot a warning glance at the others, silently telling them to stay back. He’d witnessed her handy work firsthand, and this had barely scratched the surface of her twisted pleasures. “I’ll be sure to pass along that you were here, Vira.”

“He couldn’t even bother to be here when his precious daughter comes home after centuries? Aww.” A pout set on her lips as she whined, as if all her work had been for naught. She’d craved to see his reaction to her revival. “Do tell him that this is just the beginning.”

She’d savor it another time.

Vira flashed a wry grin at the residents before turning on her heel to exit. Her hand rested on the knob. “Till next time.” She tossed the words over her shoulder with a wink and malicious smirk.

There were so many to play with, it would be difficult to choose.

Ah, but it hardly mattered. Any playmate will suffice. All they need do is bleed and cry out in pain.

Returning to her Uncle Vlad’s castle, her hums echoed down the empty corridors. Her bloodied clothes littered around, like a trail of clues leading straight to the culprit. Her steps light and airy, like a ghost dancing through the moonlight that bathed her pale skin.

High. Hazy. Tingling with desire and need. Her eyes slid closed, replaying the sight of their blood and their pained expressions bringing a soft moan to her throat. The whines and screams, the slicing of her own skin by the sharp blade. It electrified her nerves, leaving her wound tightly and longing for more release.

Golden eyes met with pale green ones.

That will do.

#i love my crazy baby so much #ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen vampire fanfiction #ikevamp vlad #ikevamp charles #ikevamp faust #Vira #ikevamp leonardo #ikevamp comte #ikevamp vincent #ikevamp theo #ikevamp sebastian #ikevamp napoleon

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megalony · 5 years ago

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Second chances- Part 2

This is the second part of my Billy/ Four series I am going to be working on which I hope you will all like.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @luvborhap @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @rogahs-drowse @milanosaurus @httpfandxms

Series taglist: @multi-fandom-iimagines @dreashappyworld

Summary: (Y/n) believes being in the group is her second chance and Billy starts to believe it was his chance too as it brought (Y/n) into his life. But their newest mission is far from easy.

Series masterlist

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What are we doing?" Everyone could sense the nervousness in Seven's voice as he cast his eyes around the private plane that they were all standing in.

It was bad enough that One was going to be flying them in this but Seven felt an uneasiness riling through him now that One had said he wanted to try something out first. That was never a good sign and Seven was a panicker, he didn't know what was going through One's mind and half of the time he never wanted to know either.

"Because of Two, I have to modify the magnets and I think I got it. So I need to test them out, and this will have to do." One motioned his hands first to (Y/n) before to the plane they were standing in. He rose a brow when (Y/n) didn't smile, she simply folded her arms over her chest as she cocked her head to the side, unamused by all accounts.

One had to adjust the magnets and try to isolate her hip so he wouldn't send her flying when they were on the ship. That meant he had to find her metal hip on his phone and make sure the magnets weren't activated to that particular piece of metal. When they would be on the ship it was fully made of metal and so was this plane, so it was a great place for him to do a test run with the magnets so he knew if he had to make some more adjustments or not.

"Alright, everyone take off any piece of metal you have on you and put them down on the floor."

Everyone already knew that when the time came to go on the mission on the boat, anything metal would be discarded and all their weapons and any protective clothing would be swapped for plastic. No piercings, watches, rings, metal tips or plates on boots were allowed. And the only person with metal in their body was (Y/n), which at least made it a bit easier for One to work with.

(Y/n) removed the chain hanging around her neck and set it down on the floor along with the single ring she normally wore on her index finger. Her eyes followed Billy as he took the belt from his trousers and set it on the floor due to the metal buckle and he dropped his watch into the pile as well.

Their eyes locked the moment he made sure there was no metal on him. (Y/n) could see the worry in his eyes for her in case this didn't work like One thought it would. No one knew if it would hurt (Y/n) if the metal in her hip suddenly became attracted to the magnets and they didn't know how strong it was right now. Billy wondered if (Y/n) would be able to stand her ground and stop herself from being pulled to the magnet or if it would be too strong and drag her to the side of the plane.

"Okay, we all ready?" One questioned, his eyes mainly focused on (Y/n) because this was to help her, not the rest of them.

(Y/n) took in a deep breath as she nodded, flexing her hands at her sides as she tried to stay calm but it was rather hard to stay composed when she didn't know what was coming. She could feel a slight tug in her hip, she could feel nothing at all if this worked. Or she could fall and be dragged to the magnet. If One made them too powerful the metal plate could dislodge in her hip and she would be in real trouble then.

"The magnets are there and there, I'm only testing with two instead of four." One pointed to the sides of the plane right in the centre and (Y/n) nodded, her eyes checking over the points just so she knew where she could be flying to.

Everyone stood in dotted places around the plane and One stood near the door as (Y/n) moved near to the centre where the magnets and all the pieces of metal were. She didn't want to knock anyone over if this didn't work or bash into something and hurt herself.

"Go for it."

One could feel his nerves sparking like they were on fire the moment he turned his phone on. With a shaking hand, he pressed on the green light on his phone to isolate (Y/n)'s hip before he dared to turn the magnets on. All their eyes were focused on (Y/n) as the metal items suddenly started to shake before they bolted to the right side of the plane.

(Y/n) snapped her eyes closed the moment the pieces of metal started to move, but to her utter relief, she didn't fly along with them. Everyone could see the magnets were clearly powerful with how fast each watch and chain started to move within a split second. There was no piece of metal on the plane that had stayed in place or had taken more than two seconds to move, except for (Y/n). She could feel the magnet like it was licking at her hip and causing the tiniest vibrations to flow through her leg but it wasn't pulling at her or even trying to drag her along. It was as if the magnets were just sensing out where she was.

"Thank fuck." One breathed in relief when he saw (Y/n) stayed in the exact same place.

Looking down to his phone, he turned on the magnet on the left and turned off the one on the right. Everyone watched the objects become unstuck from the wall, simply to fly across the small space and land on the opposite wall. (Y/n) could feel her hip twitching from the change of magnets but she wasn't following with the rest of the metal which was good.

"Can you move?" One questioned, his eyes burning into (Y/n)'s as he motioned for her to walk towards him. He didn't know if she would be able to move with ease or if it would be harder to walk with the magnets so close by.

(Y/n) started to move and she nodded to signal that it felt fine to start walking closer to him. There was no problem with her movement and nothing pulling her back.

That was, until she took four steps.

(Y/n) pressed her hand to her hip as she leaned over, a groan passing through her lips as she felt like her hip was moving without her command. Her eyes flashed up and locked with One's as she tried to move again but it didn't work. The moment she lifted her foot from the floor, her body collapsed and she found herself twisting and her hip contorting to try and aim for the magnet. (Y/n) felt her side scraping against the floor as she felt herself moving as if the plane had tipped and she was falling towards gravity.

Reaching her hand up, (Y/n) dug her nails into the edge of the table to try and stop herself from moving but the moment she stopped moving, it felt like a fire had erupted in her hip. A scream tore from her lips as her head tilted back to try and look at One who looked petrified.

She didn't have a choice but to let go of the table and let her hip become pulled to the wall. The moment her side bashed into the metal wall (Y/n) cried out as she curled up, not daring to try and pull away.

"Turn the fucker off!" Billy stated as it was the most obvious choice that One clearly hadn't made yet.

"I'm trying!" The moment One switched the magnets off, (Y/n) choked on air as she slumped against the floor as her body started to shake. Her eyes stayed closed as she tried to gain back her stolen breath, feeling Five quickly kneeling down beside her to try and check on her hip. (Y/n) jolted when she felt Five pressing on her hip but it was more a pain she recognised as bruising than an injury.

"You could have dislocated her hip or ripped the plate from the bone. Don't try that again until you get it fixed." Five chided as she brushed a stray strand of hair from her features once she confirmed that (Y/n) was alright and had nothing worse than a few bruises. If the magnets had been any more powerful they could have ripped the plate from the bone it was fused to or worse, right through her skin. They could have pulled her hip out of its socket with that kind of force.

"Sorry, my bad. I can isolate you but it won't let you move... I'll figure it out." One nodded before pressing his lips into a straight line as he tipped his head down to look at his hands that were clasped together in front of him.

He had managed to isolate her hip but the magnetic field around her wouldn't follow her if she moved. It was like a circle had been drawn around her and if (Y/n) stepped out of it, the magnet would get her instead of the circle moving with her. That made things harder for One but magnets were his speciality, he could work out this little bug in the system within a few more days.

Billy rolled his eyes as he pushed past One and bent down beside (Y/n). He held his hands out to her, locking his fingers around her own so he could gently ease her to her feet before helping her sit down. Reaching his hand down, Billy slipped his watch back onto his wrist before grabbing (Y/n)'s chain and handing it out to her as everyone else went to pick up their items that were no longer glued to the wall.

When everyone had sat down and One went through to get ready for take-off, (Y/n) leaned her head on Billy's shoulder. Feeling his arm slipping around her waist when no one was looking and his fingers skimming over her hip. He traced random patterns on her skin before pressing a chaste kiss to the top of her head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Casting her eyes to the right, (Y/n) watched Billy stuffing his bag with the equipment he needed for tonight's raid on the hotel. Billy had a key role tonight, he was breaking into the top floor of the hotel so he could get the president's brother out. It meant he had to scale the building and the very top of the building made every other building and house look like tiny blips.

(Y/n) knew that Billy wasn't afraid of heights but that high up might not sit amazingly well with him.

His jet black bag was beginning to get full with ropes, wires, connecting clips and buckles and a glass cutter so he could get through the window.

(Y/n) could easily see that Billy's gloved hands had the slightest tremble to them as he was zipping up his bag. Billy was always calm and collected and he was a big daredevil but that didn't mean he didn't feel any nerves. He got anxious and he felt a lot of worry before he did any kind of job like this. Billy hated the build-up to a mission or when he used to be a thief. But when he was in the moment, doing what he did best, there was nothing else in the world that he wanted to be doing.

He looked rather rough and even dangerous in the clothing he was wearing tonight. Billy didn't want people to spot him when he was breaking into the hotel so he opted for all black so he would at least try and blend in with the night. He had black tank trousers on that were made of thick material and he had a black shirt with a padded vest over the top. And when he stuffed the black woollen hat over his hair, (Y/n) found herself biting down on her lip.

She loved raking her fingers through his long hair and brushing it back on his head. Or feeling the very short strands that were almost non-existent on the sides and the back of his head.

"Are you nervous?" (Y/n) questioned as she moved over to kneel down next to Billy. No one else was around at the moment meaning it eas just the pair of them getting their stuff ready to go.

One was with Seven making sure they had all the guns ready and loaded in the van. Five and Three were getting changed and making sure the gas masks were ready and they had the laughing gas all contained and loaded so it left (Y/n) and Billy to get their stuff and get changed.

The plan was for Three and (Y/n) to go inside and make their way up to the top of the building and take out the guards. Five was going to make sure downstairs was secured and all the people and the down at the ground level were unable to cause any havoc before she got the van ready for them to rush off. One was going to be overseeing the mission from the next roof and Seven was going to be ready in waiting to take anyone out if needed.

They wanted everything to go as smoothly as possible tonight because they couldn't afford any mistakes or mishaps to take place.

"I'm bricking it." Billy managed a smile as he finished zipping up his bag, resting his arm on his knee as he looked over at (Y/n). He couldn't deny the nerves that were wracking through his system and building in his stomach and chest but it was normal for him. He was fine when he got to work so it was nothing for him to worry or dwell on. "We lost Six last time... I don't want to lose anyone else."

Billy wasn't superstitious and he didn't believe in a lot of things like that or predicting the future but he did worry about tonight. His worries weren't a bad feeling of something going wrong because they were normal, but Billy just couldn't help but fear that tonight wasn't going to go as planned.

They thought last time would be fine and it had seemingly gone fine up until they all met up and Billy saw the mess that had turned out to be Six. The driver had a pipe smashed into his neck and eyes that were dried up and looked to be made of shattering glass. They lost him and it had hit all of them hard, they couldn't afford to lose anyone else. And Billy was not losing or having anything happening to (Y/n).

"We won't have a lot of time to pull this off and I ain't dealing with One if he loses his shit again." Billy wasn't happy about a strict time limit when he knew that One would be pushing him through the mic to speed up, he didn't work well when others pushed him when he was already doing his best. Nor did he want to be around One if shit went south and he got mad or started getting sarcastic or temperamental.

With a sigh, Billy looked to the watch strapped on his wrist before he pushed himself to his feet and held his hand out for (Y/n) to which she gratefully accepted.

Reaching down, he grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder as if it held nothing more than a single feather inside rather than heavy equipment. But as Billy was about to start walking, he stopped when (Y/n) kept hold of his hand and tugged him so he wouldn't start walking just yet. He looked at her with quizzical eyes, wondering what she needed or wanted.

(Y/n) gently let go of his hand before fumbling with the back of her shirt. Since she and Three had to blend in before going upstairs (Y/n) had been told to wear a dress, but she simply decided for a jumpsuit that was easier to move in and wouldn't catch on her shoes. She needed to move quickly and be agile which wasn't achievable with a dress.

Her fingers grasped the silver chain hanging around her neck and she undid the clasp before holding the chain out to Billy whose eyes narrowed as he frowned, unsure what she was doing.

He leaned his head forward when she motioned for him to do so, his eyes watching as she slipped the chain around his neck and did up the clasp. Billy slowly moved his hand and felt the bullet hanging on the end of the chain that he had always found himself reaching for whenever the chance arose. This was (Y/n)'s second chance, it was the necklace that seemed to bring her luck and calm her down, she should be the one wearing this tonight, not him.

"I know you don't believe in luck, but I do, and I think you could use a lucky charm right now." (Y/n) knew she couldn't change Billy's mind on luck and she wouldn't want to because it was his mind and his decisions. But she believed that the bullet on that chain was a lucky charm because it didn't kill her and it brought her to this group of people. It gave her the second chance at life that (Y/n) had been looking for and it gave her Billy, she couldn't have asked for anything more. But right now Billy seemed to be worrying and at a loss, and if the bullet had given (Y/n) some luck, she hoped it would do the same for Billy.

Billy reached up and took hold of the bullet, rubbing the cold metal between his thumb and finger as he could already feel his heart rate calming down and his nerves settling in his chest.

"Thank you."

(Y/n) was so used to Billy speaking with an air of calmness and coolness with a few swear words or a tone of aggravation that it was surprising to hear the earnestness in his tone. But he spoke so quietly and gently and the smile on his lips made her heart soar.

Letting go of the chain, Billy did a quick sweep of the bunker before he leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. He couldn't help but smile when he felt (Y/n)'s lips curving up at the corners and her nails scratching against the back of his neck. He pulled her lower lip between his teeth, his forehead resting against her own before they pulled back upon hearing Five shouting that they had to go.

"Here goes nothing."

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