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bosspigeon · 3 years

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not if it's you

Prompt: Day One: Cooking, Day Two: Cuddling💕 Pairing: Mason/Male Detective Words: 3293 Summary: Mason is sick. Mason's not supposed to get sick, but magic tends to not give a shit if you're a big, tough vampire man with a reputation to maintain. A prompt fill for @wayhavensummer that I wasn't sure I'd finish, but I'm glad I decided to. I combined two prompts into one, along with the inclusion of the bonus challenge, "love languages!" Juni's love language is Acts of Service~ CW for emetophobia. Nothing actually happens, but it is discussed!

“I’m not a vampire, Mason,” Juni said to him when he clicked on the lamp on his dresser and Mason growled loudly in protest. “I’m sorry, but I can’t see in the dark.”

Mason's growl became a long, low groaning noise as he dragged a pillow over his face. It helped more than he cared to admit, being immediately plunged into soothing darkness and smothered in the warm, sweet scent of the detective buried in his pillow.

Still, he feels like absolute shit.

The illness should run its course in just a few days, from what Juni’s relayed to him about Nate’s research—since he won’t leave Juni’s apartment (he’s not going to say can’t, because that implies weakness, implies that he couldn’t even if he wanted to, and he could, he just won’t, and that’s all there is to it) until he’s well, and refuses to go crawling to the Agency when he just needs to wait things out.

If he went to the Agency, he’d just be “waiting things out” the same as he is there, only he’d be doing it alone in a stiflingly empty observation room, bored out of his fucking skull until someone decided to come poke at him for science. At least here, he’s got Juni fussing over him.

It’s sort of… nice, being fussed over.

And Juni would be fussing whether Mason was here or not. He’d probably be driving himself crazy with worry, making himself sick with it, if Mason were stuck at headquarters without him, and the thought of that makes Mason feel even worse than he already does. It’s really best for the both of them that the vampire is here, buried in a metric fuckton of blankets (because even if he feels like he’s going to burn alive, the second he leaves them the sweat cools on his skin and leaves him trembling) looking into the blank, beady eyes of a patchwork plush cat.

His entire body aches, throbbing dully from the top down, but he reaches out with a heavy arm and turns it around so it’s not fucking staring at him anymore.

Juni’s been gone for a while, but Mason can hear him over the low ringing in his ears, puttering around in the kitchen. His senses are weakened by the bizarre magical illness Juni’s likened to the flu after hearing the symptoms, but he hears the detective humming quietly to himself, smells some spices and herbs he’s too exhausted to bother identifying over the low thrum of something metallic and familiar.

Mason's stomach growls at the same moment it churns. Hungry, but the very thought of consuming anything, blood included, makes him feel nauseous.

He doesn't know how Juni managed to sweet-talk Adam into handing over Mason's blood rations for the few days it would take this sickness to work its way through his body, but it makes him faintly irked he'll have to disappoint the detective when he tells him he doesn't even think his traitorous stomach can handle it, no matter how hungry he is. Juni always looks so pitiful when he can't help, soft doe eyes and pouty mouth and genuine, heartfelt distress rolling off him in waves. Mason groans into the pillow and comforts himself by drawing another detective-scented breath deep into his lungs.

And then Juni knocks on the doorframe (of his own fucking bedroom, because he's ridiculous, and Mason's chest squeezes) and calls, "Still alive in here?" softly teasing, his voice carefully lowered in deference to Mason's throbbing skull.

He makes a rough noise and tosses aside the pillow, because the only thing better than being buried in Juni-perfumed sheets is taking in the scent of him right from the source.

Juni always looks so different when he's at home. He relaxes, softens, like a bird coming to roost. His shoulders aren't so tense, his eyes stop darting like he's waiting for an attack (something Mason noticed even before Juni was actually under attack every other week) and he just, he looks settled and safe. After the shit he’s been through, he deserves to feel safe.

He opens his mouth to say something, but Mason just awkwardly squirms his way out of the blankets to free his arms enough to reach out.

"C'mere," he grunts.

Juni laughs, and the way his cheeks curve, the way they make his eyes crinkle at the corners, makes Mason hate whatever magic bullshit allowed him to get sick in the first place with a burning fury that feels like it's immolating him from the inside.

Or maybe that's the fever.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Juni teases when Mason growls. It's not as fierce as he hoped it would be, which is more than obvious when Juni only smiles indulgently at him.

He perches on the edge of the bed and smooths a hand over Mason's clammy forehead, making a soft, commiserating cooing noise. Mason wants to be annoyed, wants to growl again, complain about being coddled, but the sound that comes out of him is not a growl, or a curse, but a soft moan. He pushes up into Juni’s hand and closes his eyes.

“You’re still burning up,” Juni sighs, sinking his fingers into the vampire’s hair and scratching at his scalp. He moans again, lower and rougher. A little awkwardly, he adds, “Nate said you should, y’know, drink something.”

Mason’s stomach turns, and he grits his teeth and shakes his head.

“Mason.”

He shakes his head again, turning his face into the pillow again when it starts to make him dizzy. He wants to break something. He feels so pitiful.

“Mason, you’re not gonna get better if you don’t—”

“You ever seen someone puke blood, detective?” he snaps. Juni’s hand retracts sharply, and Mason keeps his eyes closed. He doesn’t want to see the hurt streaking across that soft, expressive face. “It’s not pretty,” he adds gruffly, and it takes all the strength in his flagging body to roll over and turn his back.

Juni’s quiet for a long moment, before soft fingers are sliding into his hair again,rubbing at the nape of his neck. “I had kind of a weird idea that might help, if you think you can stop pouting long enough to hear me out,” he says.

“You sure know how to sweet-talk a guy, huh?” Mason grumbles, but his body, an aching knot of sweaty tension, starts to slowly loosen up under the gentle petting.

Juni goes quiet again, and then, with a little laugh, he says, “Would it make you feel better if I told you you’re really cute when you’re all whiny?”

“How fucking dare you,” he snarls impotently into the pillow.

Juni laughs, and when Mason rolls over again to glower at him, he snorts trying to stifle it. “Do you want to hear my idea or not?”

“Not exactly in any position to stop you, am I?” Mason scoffs.

The detective pokes his nose. “Nope!” Mason nips at his finger, but his reflexes aren’t exactly great at the moment, and Juni just pulls it back with a smile. “I wanted to ask before I, like, ruined one of your blood rations for a weird experiment, but I’ve been doing research on different recipes that use blood—” “Why?” Mason interjects.

Juni flounders a bit, shoulders drawing up to his ears. “I… Well, I know you don’t like to eat human food, for good reasons, but sometimes I can convince Felix and Adam to try stuff I make, and Nate likes to eat sometimes, and I like… I like cooking for people? And I can’t really do that for you, because I know how overwhelming your senses can be, but you’ve said they’re kind of dull right now, so I thought maybe I could make, well… sort of a blood soup?"

Mason blinks at the detective.

Juni nervously babbles on to fill his befuddled silence. "If I thinned it out with a mild broth, I figured it would go down easier. And I know ginger is really strong on its own, but it also settles the stomach, and with the blood and the broth, it might help? I thought about adding some other things, but I tried to be picky with it, because even if your senses are dulled, I don't want to overwhelm you."

Mason chews it over, and even though he can tell his silence is making Juni nervous with every second that ticks by (fidgety, fussy, open and honest to a goddamned fault, a ball of nerves Mason wants to drag into bed and shield from the world) he can't really think of much to say, except, "Sure. Why the fuck not?"

"That's okay! I figured it was a long shot anyway, and—" Juni freezes, his knee-jerk anxious capitulation cutting off like he’s run into a brick wall. "What?"

"I'm already overwhelmed, sweetheart," Mason groans, and honestly, even talking is getting exhausting, his aching throat protesting every word he can manage to eke out. He wants Juni closer, wants to bury his face in his neck and hide like a wounded animal crawling its way home. "It honestly can't get worse at this point. If you think it'll help, I'll try it."

Juni still looks stunned, but is also clearly jangling with nervous excitement. Nate's used the term "puppyish enthusiasm" before when describing the way Juni lights up when he's actually able to help, and it's almost comically accurate.

Juni's bolted from the room before Mason's sluggish brain has a chance to even process the humor at the observation into a snort.

He's alone again, and if Juni were still here, he'd call what Mason's doing pouting, but he's scowling, damn it. Not that anyone's around to see it save for Juni's stuffed animals. He pulls the pillow to his chest, half-burying himself underneath the blankets again. He keeps his foggy focus stretched far enough to hear Juni in the kitchen again, making a game effort not to clatter around noisily and failing spectacularly. It's the thought that counts, Mason supposes.

It doesn't actually take all that long for him to come back, but it still feels like ages with how shitty Mason feels. He's painfully aware of every single ache in his body, radiating down to his bones, of the fever burning him up, the mutinous turning of his stomach even as it gnaws itself apart with hunger. He’s becoming so bogged down in the prison his ailing body has become, he almost doesn’t notice Juni pattering his way back into the room. Almost.

The second he crosses the threshold, Mason senses are honing in on everything they can about him, his smell, his warmth, the way his cozy sweater (it’s midsummer, for fuck’s sake, and sure the AC is cranked due to Mason’s fever, but it always is, because Juni’s body regulates temperature like a goddamned lizard and he hates the heat almost more than Mason does) makes him look soft and touchable. It takes him a long while to even notice the detective is carrying a tea tray with a bowl on it, as well as a glass of water, and when he does, he’s honestly not sure what to make of the smell.

Human food is overwhelming, usually. But usually, Mason’s sinuses aren’t swollen and borderline useless. Juni is walking as carefully as he can, and there is a palpable relief when he sets the tray down on his bedside table without incident. “I made the broth already, because I didn’t want it to take too long if you said yes. It actually smells, like, really good? Is that gross of me to say?”

Mason tries to push himself upright, and his muscles protest loudly enough that he can’t quite bite back a grunt of pain. Juni makes a sound like he’s been shot, and his hands are on Mason with an urgency that vibrates through his skin. Still, his touch is an instant balm to the vampire’s overwrought senses, his hands gentle as they ease him upright and fussily pile pillows behind him to support him. It fucking sucks to be so weak, but at least it’s only Juni seeing him like this. He can’t quite express why, when it feels like his head’s stuffed full of cotton, but he thinks it would suck a lot more if he were riding this out alone, or in a sterile room at HQ. He lolls his head towards Juni, his cheek smashing against one of a half-dozen goddamned pillows piled around him, and laughs weakly. “Gonna feed me too, Nurse Fenn?”

Juni blushes, and the usual rush of his blood doesn’t smack Mason in the face like usual, but it washes over him in a gentle wave of warmth, that tempting smell tickling the back of his tongue. “Do you need me to?” he asks, and it’s pretty clear he’s trying to make it sound teasing, but it comes out much more earnest than anything else.

Mason almost wants to say yes, but he also doesn’t want Juni to be in the splash zone if his stomach decides it can’t handle the detective’s little experiment. “Nah, I got it,” he grunts, reaching for the tray. It trembles dangerously when his shaking hands lift it, but Juni’s quick to steady it and guide it to his lap. He mutters a quiet thanks, and Juni mercifully doesn’t rib him for his uncharacteristic politeness. “You’d make a cute nurse, detective,” he says to cover the strangely loaded silence.

Juni laughs and sits on the edge of the bed, close but not quite touching. “I’m too squeamish,” he offers with a shrug that rubs their shoulders together.

“You just made me soup out of blood,” Mason says dully.

“I also have a borderline breakdown giving myself the same shot I’ve been giving myself every week for the last decade,” Juni retorts. “Do you really think I could do it for someone else?”

Mason snorts. “Probably not. Would kill to see you in one of those little dresses, though.”

The only thing protecting Mason from getting a hilariously ineffectual swat on the shoulder is the bowl of soup in his lap. He’s not even sure his current feeble condition would be enough to stop Juni otherwise. “Eat your soup, asshole,” Juni groans, covering his burning face with his hands. He peeks through his fingers after a moment’s hesitation, “And maybe I’ll show you the Halloween costume Tina got me as a joke a couple years ago when you’re feeling better.”

Mason’s whole body reacts to that, and he can’t be sure if the chill that rolls down his spine is due to the illness, or something else entirely. If nothing else, choking down some soup will be worth it, just for that promise.

The first spoonful goes down surprisingly easy. He doesn’t really taste much, at first, not even the coppery tang of blood. It’s thin, as Juni promised, so it doesn’t quite coat his mouth the same way fresh, raw blood would. Juni’s watching him with obvious concern, eyebrows scrunched together and plush bottom lip caught between his teeth. Either concern that Mason’s body is going to reject it fully, or he just won’t fucking like it. Probably both.

“It’s not too hot, is it?” Juni asks, touching Mason’s knee lightly through the blanket. He swallows his mouthful hard and bites down the urge to ask the human not to stop touching him.

“S’fine,” he grunts, trying to parse what exactly he makes of it at all. The warmth feels nice, soothing his raw throat. He takes another bite. He thinks he can sort of make out the individual spices underneath the taste of the blood and the broth (slightly watered down bone broth, he;d guess) but he can’t really smell them either. The ginger, at least, is obvious. He knows the smell enough to guess the taste, even with the complete lack of culinary experience. It’s, strangely enough, not horrible. It does taste mostly like thinned-out blood, which is weird, and gives him a sense of dissonance from the texture he expects blood to have. “Weird.”

Juni doesn’t seem to take offense to that. “Well, you’re not spewing it across the room like you’re possessed, at least, so weird is better than bad?” he laughs, squeezing Mason’s knee. “How’s your stomach?”

Mason takes a second to consider. “Not great, but not terrible.”

Juni almost deflates with relief. “And the taste? It’s not too much, is it? I can be kind of heavy-handed with my seasoning, so I tried to be really careful. It’s really only a pinch of salt, sage, and ginger, with a little bit of licorice root, which I know is kind of weird, but it’s good for sore throats?”

“Tastes like…” Mason screws up his face, realizing he has absolutely no context to work with. “I don’t know. I think I like it?”

Juni smiles like the goddamned sun, and it somehow makes his snarky little pet name for Mason that much funnier. “Really?”

Mason’s not sure he’d be saying the same thing if his senses weren’t dulled to near-uselessness by his traitorous body, but the way Juni looks, like he couldn’t be happier to be dealing with a sick, cranky vampire hogging his bed and sweating in his sheets, makes him bite his tongue. There’s always a brightness to the human when he brings food to the warehouse for Nate and Felix, he smiles so wide his face almost cracks when Adam crumples under the weight of those puppy eyes and takes the smallest portion of whatever concoction Juni’s brought to nibble on, and offers the most awkward compliment he can manage. Juni just likes doing things for people, providing for them any way he can. Food is his usual go-to, but if he can help at all, he’s happy.

I can’t really do that for you.

It almost makes Mason wish he could enjoy whatever the detective whips up in his cramped little kitchen, just to make him smile.

Christ, his brain must be more addled than he thought.

He manages a few more spoonfuls of soup before his stomach starts to feel uncomfortably full, but the gnawing hunger of going too long without drinking has gone away, and he doesn’t feel so much like he’s going to puke like he did earlier. He feels heavy, and tired, and honestly that’s one hell of an improvement. Juni’s quick to take the tray and spirit it off back to the kitchen, bending to press a quick kiss to Mason’s cheek before he goes, and when he returns, the vampire is slumped in his pillow nest and half-asleep, eyes shuttered to thin slits.

He feels more than he sees Juni approach, and when a gentle hand smooths over his clammy forehead, he pushes up into it with a raw, weak noise he has zero energy to be embarrassed by anymore. He reaches out blindly, tangles his fingers in the knit of his detective’s sweater, and tugs. He can’t be sure how it happens, a jumble of movement and complaining muscles, but Juni winds up in bed with him, slouched comfortably against the pillows so Mason can rest his head on the soft curve of his belly. The human plays idly, sweetly with his hair, twirling damp curls around his fingers.

“I’m sweaty,” Mason halfheartedly protests. Juni’s stomach rises and falls beneath his head. It feels like being on the ocean, like being rocked to sleep on quiet waves.

“I don’t mind,” Juni murmurs, thumb stroking the shell of his ear.

Before he can think of anything to say to that, he’s being pulled under, dozing off between one breath and the next.

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prose-for-hire · 3 years

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Vampires Suck

Pairing: Spike x reader (gender not mentioned)

Request: not requested. I couldn’t sleep and this was the result. In my fictional land anyone can give blood (mlm and anaemic people included). This fic includes a magical loophole where (chipped) Spike can bite so long as the human agrees.

Warning: Biting. Blood. Swearing. Very heated kissing. Sex references. Reader smokes a cigarette.

A/n: Moral of the story is, give blood. You never know who might need it ;)

You had always given blood regularly. Since you were old enough you went and gave a pint of the red stuff. Not just for your free snack after. It was just a part of your life now. However, you never realised that the blood you had donated might have gone to someone looking for their own kind of snack.

It was dark out, you had only been able to come for your appointment in the evening. You had been outside waiting, you had come too early again. You didn’t want to go in yet or face the miserable receptionist who made it her mission to make you feel unwelcome in the cheeriest way possible every time you came here.

You were stood in the parking lot of the medical centre as you started to hear a rustling sound. You turned and the parked donation van was moving and someone was cursing loudly from inside. You frowned, deciding to investigate.

You walked over to the van and opened on of the doors to find a man trashing the area. It was the type of van that could allow for someone to give blood in there should it be full in the centre.

The man had slicked back, bleach blonde hair, he was painfully attractive and he was holding an empty blood bag and staring straight at you.

“Uh, are you okay?” You inquired.

“Does it sodding look like it? All out of the good stuff in here only got the fancy gourmet kind”

“What?”

“Talking blood. Y’know, kind that gives you life... makes you hard” He said as if it was obvious.

“Right. Yeah. I’m going to go now” you shook your head in disbelief. He was certifiable and you had just made it your problem.

You walked back to your waiting spot and hoped he wouldn’t follow you. The noises coming from the van stopped, he was thinking. And now he was coming your way. Perfect.

He stood for a moment, looking you up and down before shrugging to himself and taking something out of the inside pocket of his leather duster.

“Cigarette, love?”

“Probably shouldn’t. I have an appointment soon”

“Don’t make it taste much different. Kind of... smoked I suppose”

You just stared for a moment and took the cigarette he was still waving in front of your face. If anything it was to shut him up.

He smirked as he handed you his lighter and you lit the smoke and inhaled. That receptionist was going to have a field day when she smelled it on you. She wouldn’t know which disapproving expression to use first.

“Do you have an appointment too or are you just on day release?” You asked and he actually snorted at the question, almost choking on the smoke. He was enjoying this interaction.

“Just looking for blood as I said” He explained before inhaling again. It was often easier to just loot a blood bank, charming someone into agreeing to give him their blood could take effort that often wasn’t worth it.

“Why?”

“Guess” He said and you sighed, but bit.

“You’re a vampire” you said without missing a beat. It was the lamest thing that you could think of.

“That was quick” he said actually surprised, “Bloody Drac” he then muttered realising it was probably his fault you had guessed so quick.

“Funny” you mumbled through the filter as you inhaled the thick smoke into your lungs. You weren’t convinced in the slightest.

“No, really”

“If you were a vampire you wouldn’t tell me unless you were gonna-“

“Go on” His eyes glinted dangerously as he gestured with his head.

“I think it’s time for my appointment, thanks for the smoke” You rushed the words out, crushing the cigarette under your feet. The hairs on the back of your neck had started to stand on end, you stared at the entrance to the centre but didn’t move fast enough. As if you were willing him to stop you.

And he did as you took a step away. He grabbed your arm and pulled you back. He was strong. Crap.

“Hear me out, love”

“Get off my arm, idiot” he did let go very slowly. He was starting to really like you. You were kind of rude but in a fun way. And you were extremely attractive to him. Which is how he came to his proposition.

“Won’t take nearly as much as those leeches in there would and I’d treat you to better than a cookie” he raised an eyebrow to try and entice you further.

“There’s no way that you could be a-” You started but you watched as his face shifted briefly. Fangs protruded from his mouth, his forehead bunched and ridged at the centre, “-holy fucking shit!”

“Yeah, right. Come here” he was interested to note you weren’t scared, just trying to process a lot at once. He was also hungry so he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you back up into the back of the van and slammed the doors closed behind you, “I need you to agree” He said as he sat you down on a swivel chair.

“You want me to sign a fucking consent form before you drain me of my life?! What is this some new-age vampire shit?”

“I’m hungry, your blood is at least half-decent and you’re all I’ve got”

“What’s in it for me?” You squinted.

“The eternal gratitude of a man that will actually live for ever”

“Doesn’t mean anything if I won’t be alive to feel the gratitude”

“Bloody-“ You were irritating him, you had an answer for everything, “look, I can’t bite unless someone agrees to it. I’ll take a pint, maybe less. You’ll get something from it too, I promise”

“Does it hurt?”

“Yeah, but pain and pleasure kind of go hand in hand, right love?”

You smiled slightly at that and he smirked even more. He had definitely picked the right one. To think he was gonna try and charm that cow of a receptionist again in his desperation.

You made up your mind. What did you have to lose?

“So you-?” He pressed.

“Agree. Consent. Go for it” you offered with a shrug so he could take his pick. You really weren’t sure why he needed it. His face instantly shifted. His demeanour darkening. It was only as frightening as it was hot. Or, that’s what you told yourself. You weren’t convinced he was going to make it as good for you. You came here expecting a small pinch and a bravery sticker, maybe a biscuit. So, anything more than that would just be a bonus. You tended not to get your hopes up to avoid disappointment.

You didn’t realise you were about to be pleasantly surprised. Very pleasantly surprised.

He sat on the seat beside you, he leaned into you, pulling your chair from underneath and dragging it towards him. He jerked your head to the side. His fangs protruding from his mouth and you closed your eyes.

He didn’t hesitate, his teeth sunk into the soft skin on the left side of your neck. He pierced your skin, making sure it was deep. His jaw locked around your neck. He retracted his teeth only slightly and allowed your blood to start to run before he began to suck on your neck.

You hissed as he had penetrated your skin. It stung at first before it started to melt away. The dull ache in your neck still there but it gave way to a much richer feeling. Euphoria.

The sensation of him sucking the blood from your wound felt insanely good. Your head started to roll back, you didn’t notice the way he firmly grasped the back of your skull. Your head moving further to the side. For deeper purchase on your neck and for your comfort. You were lost in this feeling. It was nothing you had ever felt. Pure ecstasy. It felt so good you didn’t know whether to touch yourself or him.

He drank deep, taking you in completely. Your hands started to move, your fingers crawling up his back in desperation. Willing him to drink deeper. Harder.

Your nails started to drag down his back, he enjoyed this sensation you could tell. You wanted him closer, everything about him enticed you no matter how much danger you felt you were in. Your brain was screaming and you couldn’t figure out how much of it was fear and how much was pure desire.

Your breathing was heavy and you didn’t care about anything anymore. Only him. His touch. The way his mouth felt. His smell was so delicious you weren’t sure if you weren’t going to snap and start biting him in return.

He really didn’t want to stop, your blood was the sweetest he had ever tasted. Nectar of the Gods. Your heightened arousal was affecting him too, he could taste it it was so strong. He just about managed to unlatch his fangs from your neck before he rounded into headache territory.

But he couldn’t let go of you. Usually this was transactional for him, even amusing to watch the human in their desire.

But he wanted more of you. To soak up every drop. He didn’t question it. Why this stranger made his head almost as dizzy with want as theirs. He no longer knew where your arousal ended and his began. But he didn’t think about it. He just enjoyed it.

His mouth met yours roughly, his hands were everywhere at once and you desperately missed the way his mouth felt against your neck. You kissed him with such passion, writhing against him. You wanted him inside you just like he now had you in him. Coursing around his veins.

His kiss was hot, urgent. And you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore. You started to fumble to unbuckle his belt for him but he took your wrists and restrained you, pushing you against the side of the van. Your back pressed hard against the wall. He assaulted your mouth instead, the metallic taste of your own blood mixed with saliva.

He had you there, in your mind he could do anything to you and you would have taken it gladly.

Your face was covered in your own blood, he enjoyed the sight. That he had done this. Even that you had wanted him to.

He moved, kissing down to your neck where the bite mark was still fresh. There was still some residual liquid that he caught on his tongue. He lapped at the wound lightly and you moaned into his ear making him smirk. He wanted to play that sound over and over in his mind. He kissed back up to your mouth He was almost struggling keeping your wrists at bay. Almost found it cute you were trying to struggle against him. He caught your mouth several times, your lips the best he had ever felt against his. He was enjoying this too much for something that he expected to last a mere moment. He was hungry for you in such an innate way.

You started to slow your movements, becoming exhausted.

He slowly felt the come down of your arousal approaching. He cursed it, wishing it wouldn’t. He was having too much fun. But you might want to leave it there and he was going to give you that choice. I mean, he wasn’t a complete animal.

He stepped away and you whined. You slid down the wall as he let you go, he had been the only thing keeping you up. He just stared as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve. His eyes boring into you. You felt so exposed.

You managed to slide to sit in the seat you had started in. You fought to slow your breathing down, wiping your own blood from your face as he watched you come down from the euphoria.

You now felt a little embarrassed as his eyes wouldn’t leave your form. He didn’t even seem to blink. He had stepped back from you, as if he couldn’t trust continuing to be in such proximity. You definitely hadn’t planned on doing what you had just done and he knew it. Which is why against his better judgement he had held you still.

“I-“

“Hope it was as good for you as it was for me” he smirked, starting to turn to the doors and leave the van with you still trying to form words. The wound on your neck was throbbing, but you knew you would have done it over again.

“I-“

“Yeah?”

“Don’t know your name”

“Spike” he said, offering his hand to you to help you out of the truck too. You were a bit wobbly getting onto your feet, which he was expecting. You were surprised he hadn’t left you there. To be fair, in the past he usually would.

You started walking away from the medical centre, with him by your side. You were still in a daze and he wasn’t that much far gone from being a gentleman he wouldn’t walk you partly where you needed to be (so long as it wasn’t out of his way).

“Maybe we could make it a regular thing” he posed the question innocently but there was a devilish look in his eye. You acted as if you were thinking about it. Truthfully, your mind was screaming out yes. He waited, he for some reason actually cared for the answer.

“You’d have to buy me dinner first this time” you warned but smiled as his own lips tugged into a small half-smirk.

“It’s a date”

#Spike #Spike btvs #Spike x reader #Spike imagine #Spike x you #btvs #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagines #btvs x reader #btvs x you #btvs imagine #gender neutral #gender not mentioned #tw blood #tw biting

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dialovers-translations · 3 years

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DIABOLIK LOVERS Do-S Kyuuketsu VERSUS II Vol.1 Ayato VS Laito [Track 4]

Original title: 棺桶の中で

Source: Diabolik Lovers VERSUS II Vol. 1 Ayato VS Laito [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Midorikawa Hikaru & Hirakawa Daisuke

Translator’s note: This was a long one but I somehow got through it! I’ve realized that in these VERSUS CDs, Laito’s parts always tend to be a little longer because he likes to talk a lot and ramble on about things. It was fascinating to see him struggle between the two sides of himself though, as well as his realization that the MC must be someone special to him. ...And then there’s of course the many many slurpring and gulping sounds. :’’) In the game, I usually skip through most of these, but unfortunately I don’t have that luxury with a drama CD.

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5 ll Track 6

→ LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

Track 4: Inside the Coffin

Laito enters the torture chamber.

*Rattle rattle*

Laito: ...Bitch-chaaan~ You’re here, aren’t you?

He paces around.

Laito: Laito-kun has come for you~ ...That scary Vampire who will hurt you is gone, so won’t you show yourself?

He finds your hiding place.

*Rustle*

Laito: Little Red Riding Hood has been spotted...~ Nfu~ I knew the torture chamber was the right choice. ...I just had a feeling you would be hiding over here. It makes sense to start searching from the place which seems the least likely, don’t you think?

*Rustle*

Laito: Or you might have just subconsciously chose your favorite spot. ...Your true nature which has been awakened through the strange power of the lunar ecilpse, that is. I mean, this place overflows from memories of our ‘love’, doesn’t it? Fufufu~

*Rustle*

Laito: Come on. Grab my hand.

You hesitate.

Laito: I’ll make you feel good~

You slap away his hand.

Laito: ...Oh! ...Nfu~ So, what’s the plan swatting away my hand like that? Or are you perhaps grumpy, Bitch-chan?

You turn your head around.

Laito: Are you trying to put Ayato-kun and I to the test by pushing us around like this? Fufufu~

*Rustle*

Laito: ...Ugh. Gotcha~

You try to escape his grip.

Laito: Pulling you close against your will isn’t half bad either. If you’re too obedient, it isn’t any fun, don’t you think?

*Rustle*

Laito: Come on...You can fight back some more. I don’t mind if you throw a fit. You’re so very confused right now, aren’t you? You’ve been caught off guard by our slightly off behavior. That’s why you couldn’t hold back the tears. I saw you bolt out of the room earlier, you see. Not knowing what is going on just makes one want to cry, don’t you think? Fufu~

You flinch.

Laito: When that happens, the best thing to do is to retreat to a narrow, dark space. There’s a perfect example in this room as well...Come on, this way!

Laito opens the Iron Maiden.

*THUD*

Laito: How this spikeless one? Shall we go inside Ayato-kun’s bed?

He forces you inside.

*Rustle rustle*

*CLUNK*

Laito: Hmm~ It’s my first time inside, but it’s rather nice. Especially when I consider this is Ayato-kun’s favorite spot. It makes waves of excitement wash over me~ Nfu~ It feels as if I am sneakily taking what is his from right underneath his nose. Fufu~ Well, not that you necessarily belong to Ayato-kun or anything. I am just hypothetically speaking, okay?

You protest.

Laito: ...Mm~ It’s the scent of blood. Did Ayato-kun do lewd things to you in here? Fufu~

*Rustle rustle*

Laito: Come on, don’t go hide it. It’s been crystal clear for a while. Aah~ See? There’s bite marks...All over your nape.

*Rustle*

Laito: Haah...See? Right here. Can you tell? ...The place I’m carressing you.

*Rustle rustle*

Laito: Does it still sting a little? Or does it feel good? ...Haah~

You wince in pain.

Laito: ...Woah! ...Fufu~ Sorry~ Curiosity got the best of me and I started toying with the wound. Wondering if perhaps it would start bleeding again. ...And surely enough, see? Blood has started oozing out.

*Sluuuuurp*

Laito: Mmh...

*Sluuuuurp*

Laito: Nn...

*Smooch*

Laito: Haah...Lapping up the blood from your neck tainted by Ayato-kun is the pinnacle of obscenity. Mmh...Nn...

*Sluuuuurp*

Laito: ...Ah~ ...Haah...I’m sure you’re starting to feel weird too, right? See? You’ve got goosebumps. Haahn~ Mmh...

*Sluuuuurp*

Laito: Aahn...Mmh...

*Sluuuuurp*

Laito: ...Ah~ I wonder what this feeling means? You belong to me, but rather than being upset knowing Ayato-kun sucked your blood from her, it is making me excited instead.

*Rustle*

Laito: M brain doesn’t want to admit it but...Haah~ My body still reacts this way.

*Rustle rustle*

Laito: Say, Bitch-chan? You should be able to tell as well, right?

You tilt your head to the side.

Laito: Come on, try recalling it. How did Ayato-kun suck you? Right here...Mm...

*Sluuuuurp*

Laito: What kind of sounds did you make the moment he pierced his fangs through? Haah...

*Rustle*

Laito: What did he do to you afterwards? Did he hard-handedly suck your blood, I wonder? Or was he perhaps gentle with you because he noticed how you seemed to be in pain? ...For one, this Iron Maiden is Ayato-kun’s favorite spot, isn’t it? So I’m sure he has sucked your blood in here before, hasn’t he?

You avert your gaze.

Laito: Come on...Try remembering everything you did with him. While I hold you in my arms like this...

*Sluuuuurp*

Laito: You’d recall the things you’ve done with another man.

*Smooch*

Laito: ...I’m sure it makes you feel incredibly guilty, no? Mmh...

*Sluuuuurp*

Laito: Mmh...Nn...

*Rustle rustle*

Laito: Imagining you so thoroughly naughty excites me beyond belief. It’s as if a voice inside of me is telling me that I have to enjoy this situation, or I’d be missing out. That it’s the most arousing situation imaginable. You feel the same way, don’t you?

You look up at Laito.

Laito: The way Ayato-kun always talks about how he wants to claim you only for himself would only ruin this excellent situation, don’t you think? I could never comprehend him. ...Exactly, that’s what I always thought...But right now, there’s one more emotion welling up inside of me at the same time...Fufu~ That’s right...It’s jealousy.

You seem surprised.

Laito:...Bitch-chan~ Didn’t I tell you earlier as well? It seems like I’m a little envious tonight because of the moon’s effects. ...I want to corrupt these marks so badly, so you won’t even be able to tell what they originally looked like anymore. I want to make the inside of your head go blank, so you’ll be unable of recalling any of the things Ayato-kun did to you. ...That’s what I think. In other words, this is ‘possessiveness’. Born inside of me. I’m surprised. I had no idea I was capable of feeling this way. This almost makes it seems like I’m no different from Ayato-kun. We are brothers, but for the longest time, I thought the color of our eyes was the only thing we had in common. However, that might not be entirely true.

*Rustle*

Laito: Along with the side of me which wants to indulge in you as something belonging to another man, a part of me also wishes to make you only mine. But you know? At first glance, it may seem as if I am contradicting myself, but that might not actually be the case. I realized, you see? ...Do you know what I mean?

He leans in.

Laito: In short, both sides of me can only exist because you are someone special in my eyes. ...Nfu~ I mean, just think about it? If I didn’t care about you, I wouldn’t be able to get such a kick out of competing over you like this.

You flush bright red.

Laito: ...Your cheeks are red? Nfu~ Did that make your heart skip a beat? Nice~ ...But you know, when you tell a girl she is special, they let you get away with anything, don’t they?

Laito suddenly bites you.

*Gulp gulp*

Laito: Aah...

*Gulp gulp gulp*

Laito: Ah~ ...Haah...~ It’s my turn to taint your neck now. Haahn...

*Gulp gulp gulp*

Laito: Aahn...

*Gulp gulp*

Laito: Mm...No good...I want more and more...I want to leave marks on your whole body, many more than Ayato-kun ever did...Haah...Aaah~

*Gulp gulp gulp*

Laito: Hahn...

*Gulp gulp gulp*

Laito: Aah...I wonder if my feelings are in disarray because of the moon after all? ...Say, Bitch-chan? Haahn...

*Gulp gulp gulp*

Laito: Ah...Not yet...It’s not enough...Tonight, rather than feeling more satisfied by drinking your blood, it is as if I am being overcome by a different kind of feeling...Haahn...

*Gulp gulp gulp*

Laito: ...Aah~ I want to drown you in me. In my marks.

*Gulp gulp gulp*

Laito: Aah...No...That’s not it. Iーー!

*Gulp gulp gulp*

Laito: Aahn...

*Gulp*

Laito: Oh no...This is bad...I want to feel even better together with you...

*Rustle*

Laito: Hey, Bitch-chan? I have a favor to ask? ...Right here. My neck. Lick it.

You seem confused.

Laito: You feel good when I lick you, right? So please...Do it to me too.

*Rustle*

Laito: Come on. Now that we’re in this kind of situation anyway, wouldn’t you want to try switching things up a little? You might just...become addicted to it as well, you know?

*Rustle*

Laito: Come on, go ahead? Fufu~

You lick his neck.

Laito: ...Aah~ It feels great...~ Your tongue is...Haah...~ I can’t get enough of this...Aahn~ Haah...Bitch-chan...You’re doing great...I can’t get enough of your hesitant movements...Haah~~

*Rustle rustle*

Laito: ...Oh? ...You’re done already? Oh no, you have to do more. Love me more thoroughly. ...Enrapture me even more? So you’d be the only one on my mind, regardless of the effects of the lunar eclipse. Okay~?

You insist you’ve reached your limit.

Laito: Hmm...Fufu~ Okay then. Let’s leave it at that then. Thank you. ...Well then, Bitch-chan. Come here now. I’ll give you a reward~

You scoot closer.

*Rustle rustle*

Laito: You like this, don’t you? ...Pressing my lips against yours like this...Mmh...

*Smooch*

Laito: Mm...

*Smooch*

Laito: Nn...Hah...And embracing you gently like this.

You smile.

Laito: Fufu~ I know everything about you. Much better than Ayato-kun, okay? ...Well then, shall we feel even better? ...Whoops!

The Iron Maiden opens.

*CLUNK*

Laito: I accidentally opened the door. There goes our privacy. I honestly wouldn’t have minded to have stayed in here together, just the two of us, with nobody getting in our way. Nfu~ I’m sure you’d feel dissatisfied if we had to cut our fun short because someone intervenes, right? Well then, one more timeーー

You quickly jump out of the Iron Maiden.

*THUD*

Laito: ...Oh, Bitch-chan? ...What’s wrong? Come back!

You turn around.

Laito: ...Hey! ...Bitch-chan...!

You run away.

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #ayato sakamaki #laito sakamaki #diabolik lovers VERSUS II #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers drama cd #drama cd

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chelsfic · 4 years

Text

Leftovers - Part 4 - Nandor the Relentless x Reader Fanfic

Previous Parts: Masterlist

Summary: Vampire (bite) aftercare, Nandor tries to pretend like he doesn’t want to fuck you, you bond with Guillermo!!, and the gang gets an invitation!

A/N: GUYS! You’re so nice to me with all these comments and asks!! You keep me going! I hope you like this chapter. I didn’t mean for it to be the Guillermo slumber party chapter, but here we are.

Warnings: Reader described as short and plays roller derby, vampire/human relationships, blood drinking, smut (in other chapters), power differential

---

Nandor lays you down on the towels and picks up the tube of antibiotic cream on your nightstand. He wrinkles his nose as he unscrews the cap.

“This ointment is putrid,” he grumbles, but he squirts some out onto his fingers anyways and gently applies it to the wounds on your neck.

Whatever remaining energy you had following the feeding seems to have bled away with your makeout session because you can barely keep your eyes open now. The antibiotic stings a bit but you’re grateful for the attention and feeling a little light-headed and delirious--which surely accounts for the way you nuzzle your face against Nandor’s forearm as he tends to the wound.

“There, all better,” he proclaims as he places a large band-aid on your neck. He sits there for a moment, fidgeting awkwardly with his cape before abruptly standing. “I will tell Guillermo to bring you some of your electrolyte drink.”

---

“It seems the human wants to do the sex with me,” Nandor leans into the camera conspiratorially. “I mean, I can’t say I’m surprised. Humans have always been attracted to my dark power but…”

He grimaces in distaste and shakes his head, “I’ve never seen the appeal. Vampire/Human relationships? I mean...why? They die--either you eat them or they get old and gross…”

Nandor pauses at a muffled question from behind the camera.

He shrugs and knits his brows together, “Why would it be different with this human?”

“[Unintelligible]...out of your way not to kill her…”

“Yes, because of her virgin blood!” Nandor exclaims, enunciating his words condescendingly. “Why would I do the sex with her? Then she wouldn’t taste good anymore. Sex with humans is more trouble than it’s worth. They’re weak...fragile...they have to breathe. Where is the fun?”

Nandor reaches the bottom of the stairs and pauses to call out, “Guillermo!”

“Yes, master?” Guillermo pops out of his closet-bedroom and goes to the vampire’s side at once.

“I’ve just fed from the mortal. Bring her the Gatorade beverage and a snack. She’s very weak,” Nandor commands.

“Right away, master,” Guillermo does a little half bow and turns to leave.

Nandor puts out a hand to stop him, “She likes the blue flavor. Make sure you get the right one.”

Guillermo shoots a shocked look directly into the camera. When was the last time Nandor ever recalled a little detail like that about him?

Guillermo scurries away and Nandor rearranges his cape, making ready to leave for the evening. He catches the camera guy staring at him with a knowing smirk.

“What?!”

---

“Thanks, Guillermo,” you murmur after a sip of Gatorade. You have no idea what the proper treatment for blood loss is, but a snack is always nice. Maybe you should start taking iron supplements?

Guillermo goes to leave but you stop him.

“Will you...stay with me for a little while?” you ask feeling unaccountably timid. “I feel gross and I don’t want to be by myself…”

Guillermo looks like he’s torn but he finally sighs and walks back over to you, perching awkwardly beside you on the bed.

“Sure, I’ll stay for a bit,” he says and you give him a toothy grin.

You turn on your side to face him, snuggling up under the covers and giving yourself some major slumber party vibes. You’re finally going to bond with Guillermo! He’s sitting rigidly up against the headboard and you have to swallow a laugh.

“Thanks, Guillermo,” you try to imbue your sincere gratitude into the words. “And...I’m sorry if you feel like I’m coming between you and Nandor. I don’t mean to…”

Guillermo lets out a long sigh, “It’s not your fault. He’s always been distant with me and I’m just...surprised to see him being so nice to another human.”

“Nice?” you laugh. “I’m still not convinced he isn’t planning on draining me dry one of these nights…”

Guillermo scoffs and shakes his head, “I don’t think so, Smash. I mean...he seems to care about you?”

The thought gives you a secret thrill that you try to ignore. Having feelings for a vampire--that’s pretty much the closest thing to a death wish you can imagine. But you find yourself raising your fingers to your lips and recalling the press of his mouth on yours. You look up to see the sad look on Guillermo’s face and it squeezes your heart.

“Hey… I’m sure Nandor cares about you, too,” you offer. You’re trying to come up with something to say to cheer him up when your brain backtracks and processes his words, “Hey! Did you just call me my derby name!?”

Guillermo blushes adorably and stammers, “Oh--uh, yeah? Is that okay? Or is it only for other skaters to use?”

You can’t help it, he’s such a teddy bear, you reach out and squeeze his arm in a hug.

“No, it’s great! Oh my god, Guillermo, we’re really gonna be friends, aren’t we!?” you gush.

“I guess so…hey, can I ask you something?” Guillermo scoots down the bed so that he’s laying on the pillow next to yours and facing you. Slumber party vibes!

“Shoot,” you reply.

“What’s it like?” he pauses and darts his eyes away from yours before looking back at you. “When he bites you?”

Your lips twist into a crooked smile and your turn your face into the pillow to hide with an embarrassed squeak. The bite and the making out are all jumbled together in your stupid human brain. Was it painful? Sexy? Hot? Horrifying? All of that, yes.

“It’s…” you struggle for words. “Intimate. You’re very close and he wraps his arms around you. He’s so strong, you couldn’t struggle away from him if you tried. But you don’t...try. Because his eyes are so dark and intense and...gorgeous and they’re focused just on you. And then he puts his mouth on your neck and for a second it’s like a kiss but then he bites and it hurts. But his lips are still on you and his hands. He puts his hand on your head to support you and you feel kind of...taken care of? While he’s--uh--you know, drinking your blood. You worry that he’ll go too far and forget to stop but then you’re floating and happy and you don’t care anymore if he stops or not. But he does. And his lips are red with your blood but they still look so soft and--and...uh. And, uh, that’s pretty much it.”

Guillermo’s staring at you with his eyes narrowed in suspicion, “Have you--did you two--? Smash!”

You’re burning with embarrassment and you stumble over your words, “What? No! We haven’t...well--not much. But--would it be bad if we did?”

In this moment Guillermo looks like nothing so much as a concerned older brother and you want to melt a little.

“It’s...I don’t know?” he shrugs but his eyes are a little frantic. “Vampires are very, very...sexual beings. And you’re a virgin--which they love for, uh, other reasons but...I’m just a little worried you might be in over your head.”

You sigh and try to suppress your natural instinct to be defensive. You are in over your head. You’re living in a vampire house as a live-in blood donor.

“So, you and Nandor have never…?” it’s a question you’ve been asking yourself since you first met Guillermo.

He smiles slightly and shakes his head, “No. We’re not--that’s not what our relationship is about. I care about Nandor, of course. And there was a time that I felt more but...I’ve let it go.”

You frown at his answer, “Are you sure? Because I don’t want to cause any drama…”

“Really, Smash. Nandor’s my... friend--even if he has a funny way of showing it most of the time. That’s all.”

Your eyes are feeling heavy and you yawn into your elbow before you answer, “Alright...if you’re sure.”

“But are you sure?” he quips, arching one brow.

You let out a long sigh and shrug your shoulders.

“Hey...you want me to tell you what’s it like kissing Nandor?”

He giggles and rolls his eyes, “You shouldn’t kiss and tell.”

“What’s the fun in that?!”

---

“Nandor! Hey--come here you big donkey!” Nadja hisses from the upstairs hallway.

She draws him over to your bedroom doorway and pokes her head inside, “Look at these adorable, baby humans, Nandor!”

You and Guillermo are asleep, curled up like shrimp side-by-side on your bed. Guillermo’s glasses are askew on his face and there’s a pool of drool on your pillow beneath your open mouth.

“Aren’t they precious?” Nadja croons. “I just want to chomp their little limbs right off.”

Nandor’s eyes flick from you to Guillermo and he stays in the doorway long after Nadja drifts back downstairs.

“Sweet dreams, my humans,” he whispers.

---

“Attention, everyone! I have some very exciting news to share this evening,” Nandor stands by the fireplace with Guillermo flanking him on his right brandishing a postcard-sized piece of mail in his hands.

You’re sitting sandwiched between Nadja and Laszlo on the long couch and Colin Robinson is sitting in an armchair with a newspaper folded on his lap. Nadja takes your hand in both of hers and holds it on her lap and you let your head fall on her shoulder. You’ve enjoyed falling into friendship with her even if you’re pretty sure she sometimes thinks of you as some kind of human baby doll to play with.

“Nadja!” Nandor exclaims with a stamp of his heavy-booted foot. “How many times do I tell you to leave my human alone?”

“Nandor!” you shout in annoyance. “Nadja’s like my vampire mommy. Leave her alone!”

Guillermo’s eyes are wide with anxiety and he flicks his gaze from his Master to Nadja.

“Yes, Nandor. I’m her dear mama,” Nadja taunts and makes a show of baring her fangs and clawing her fingers over your head as if she’s about to bite you. “Chill out, donkey brain.”

Nandor presses his lips together in annoyance. Rather than reply to Nadja he turns on you, “You’re being very disrespectful to me, human. And I’m noting it. It’s being noted!”

Maybe it’s Nadja’s presence that boosts your confidence or maybe it’s the memory of Guillermo telling you you’d be out of your depth with a vampire lover. But you want to prove that you can play on their level. You smile up at Nandor and bat your eyes.

“I guess you’ll have to punish me then…” you say with false innocence. You catch Guillermo’s expression in the corner of your eyes and he looks like he’s having a coronary.

“Oh, you saucy minx!” Nadja praises.

“Shall I get the cat’o’nine tails from the attic?” Laszlo pipes in.

Nandor looks totally unamused. He narrows his eyes at you with a storm cloud gathering on his brow.

“Enough foolishness! I have an announcement. Guillermo, the letter,” Nandor turns to his Familiar and takes the paper from his hands. “We have been invited…to a vampire rave!”

“Oh, goody!” Nadja claps her hands together.

“Drug blood!” Laszlo cries in exultation.

Even Colin Robinson perks up.

“What’s a vampire rave?” you ask smiling in curiosity. You’re getting excited just from the others’ enthusiasm.

Laszlo answers, “It’s like a human rave only with vampires. We feed off the humans and get high ourselves. It’s great fun.”

“Uh, okay, but we all remember what happened the last time you guys drank drug blood,” Guillermo’s warns.

“Oh, shut up, Guillermo!,” Nandor flicks his wrist at him. “It would have been fine if you were a little more careful.”

Guillermo looks like he’s about to make a retort but Nandor talks over him, “It’s tomorrow night at an abandoned Circuit City across town! We’re all going to have a great time! Except...for you.”

Nandor looks down his nose at you and you whine, “Me!? Why can’t I go?”

Nadja joins your cause, “Nandor, why can’t we take the little human with us? She will be fine. If any vampire tries to attack her she will do the hip-check on them.”

“You’ve disrespected me in front of the other roommates!” Nandor admonishes. “This is the consequence. You can’t come. You’re not invited.”

You stand, walking up to Nandor and poking your finger in his chest as you proclaim, “You’re being very mean to me. And I’m noting it!”

You storm out before he can respond. You hear Laszlo’s voice as you jog up the stairs.

“Are you going to let her get away with that kind of behavior!?”

Nandor holds out his hands helplessly, “She’s gone! She’s gotten away with it!”

---

“Human!” Nadja hisses a whisper as she creeps into your bedroom later that night. “Human! Wake up!”

You roll over in bed to find her looming above you. You can see her wickedly sharp fangs to full affect and you gulp down the instinct to shriek.

“Nadja?” your voice comes out full of gravel.

“Don’t worry my little roller warrior. I’m taking you to the vampire rave tomorrow! We can’t let that stupid piece of snake ruin our fun!”

---

A/N: Is my Nadja crush showing???

Tags-- let me know if you’d like to be added to the tags!

@festering-queen @glitterportrait @kandomeresbitch @scuzmunkie @redwoodshadows

#nandor the relentless #nandor #nandor x reader #nandor the relentless x reader #nandor the relentless imagine #nandor imagine #nandor the relentless fanfic #wwdits fanfic #wwdits #human x vampire #kayvan novak

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shippedwithmonsters · 3 years

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Alright here's one more for you:

Can you describe Alistair's vampire-related anatomy like you did for Kaleb?

What I remember so far:

-Body is human-like in terms of most functions, but cannot make its own blood without first consuming blood, putting him at risk of oxygen deprivation if he does not feed.

-Otherwise he cannot die permanently/will revive eventually (Vampire Diaries rules? /Something comparable etc)

-Can turn other people into vampires, presumably with fangs?

What I'm most interested in:

-Does He Have Claws/Nails? (my favorite underrated vampire trait)

-Does he have any other supernatural physical enhancements useful for combat? (or is he just unkillable and therefore tends to win fights etc

Thank you for the ask!

(Vampire Diaries rules? /Something comparable etc)

Not really, in Alistair's case. Because he was turned into a vampire by magic, that magic keeps him from dying and in fact, keeps his body from changing pretty much at all. He can't cut his hair or even lose a limb because everything simply... resets. His hair grows back to exactly what it was and his limbs do the same. Kaleb also functions much the same way in that particular sense, but other vampires and werewolves in my fiction do not work this way.

-Can turn other people into vampires, presumably with fangs?

Maybe I'm too sleepy to completely understand what you mean here. I can't tell if you're saying Alistair turns people into vampires by using his fangs or the people Alistair turns into vampires have fangs...

Eh, I'll answer both.

Alistair was turned into a vampire by magic but he can turn others into vampires with his blood. His blood has healing properties, much like Vampire Diaries and True Blood, so it can heal wounds and such (it can't grow back limbs though, it can only speed up the normal human healing process). However, when a human has more vampire blood than human blood in their system, they change into a vampire.

And yes, those he turns have fangs.

-Does He Have Claws/Nails? (my favorite underrated vampire trait)

No, Alistair and my other vampires don't have claws, unfortunately. That would be neat, though! Maybe I'll create another vampire species (I have several) that does because that is a cool trait.

-Does he have any other supernatural physical enhancements useful for combat? (or is he just unkillable and therefore tends to win fights etc

Okay, let's see if my sleep deprived mind can do this justice...

So technically, Alistair doesn't have superhuman strength. But... he does.

I saw a really cool post on tumblr a while back and I wish I could find it, but basically it explained how humans have a lot more strength than we actually can use. Our brains are programmed to hold us back because if we really used our full strength potential, it would cause us serious harm. So like, that's why when you get an adrenaline rush, you could potentially lift a car. You can bypass your brain's 'safety feature' sometimes to do really wild feats.

Well, being a vampire that heals, Alistair doesn't need this safety feature. He can use his feel strength and not like... die.

So in practice, yes he is supernaturally strong but technically he has the same potential strength any human could have if their brains didn't hold them back.

Just a little extra tidbit because I can't remember if I've said.

Normally, Alistair looks completely human but when he is feeding, his eyes glow red and his fangs emerge from his gums. So it isn't that his teeth become fangs. He just actually has two extra teeth that stay retracted most of the time and come out when he's feeding.

#shipped with monsters #shipped with monsters original writing #i hope that covers everything you asked? if i missed anything please let me know

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halfblood-fiend · 5 years

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Fictober 2019 - Day 20 with special guests: Day 19, Day 18 and Day 15

From The Fictober 2019 event <3

Prompt 20 : “You could talk about it, you know?”

Prompt 19 : “Yes, I admit it, you were right.”

Prompt 18 : “Secrets? I love secrets.”

Prompt 15 : “That’s what I’m talking about! ”

Fandom : Star Trek: Voyager, Skyrim

Words : 3,551

Warnings : light gore and mention of blood and body horror

Day 20, 19, 18, and 15 - Vorik x Modern!OC

With a loud whoosh the flames from my hands extinguished as the last vampire collapsed in a heap of ashen clothes. The cavern plunged into near-total darkness again save for the flickering torch on the stone floor that Vorik had been carrying until we were ambushed. One fairly short fight later showed them this coven never stood a chance. I shook out my still smoking hands and blew on them. “Damn, that will never get old. It's still so cool!”

“Technically, it would be hot,” my companion said dryly, nudging a set of black robes near the entrance with the toe of his boot. A dagger clinked onto the limestone and he bent to pick it up and inspect it.

I was already heading towards the line of cupboards and bookcases along one roughhewn wall to rummage through them. “‘Cool' is human vernacular, you know, for when things are—”

“Yes, I am familiar with the terminology.” I heard the clatter of metal from behind me. Dagger must not have been up to his standards, I thought with a smile.

“Oh, so you're just being facetious,” I laughed.

Vorik fixed me with a somewhat smug look. “Yes.”

“Jerk,” I said with a smile.

Returning to my grand work pulling out drawers, I had to marvel at the little details that didn’t exist when I would play Skyrim on my computer. Where before I would “Press A to open” things and get a list of goods inside, I now had to work at finding anything worth looking for. I pulled out a rough linen dress from the bottom drawer and shook it out. I was rewarded by a puff of dust and the clatter of lockpicks on the rocks. One thing was for sure. This certainly felt a lot more like stealing now that I had to dig through physical objects to take things.

I grabbed the little coin purse tucked in the corner and turned around to search for the lockpicks I’d inadvertently spilled all over the floor, but my friend was ahead of me.

As Vorik extended his hand to give me the lockpicks, I noticed a streak of dark green on the inside of his arm.

I gasped. “Vorik! Are you bleeding?”

Appearing to notice it for the first time, the Vulcan inspected his forearm, loosening his leather braces so he could pull the shirt back. There, standing out stark against his pale yellow skin, thick dark green blood oozed out of two long jagged claw-like nicks. “Curious,” he murmured. “Are the safeties off?”

“They shouldn't be,” I replied slowly. “Computer? Status of holodeck safety protocols, please.”

An acknowledgment beep sounded in bizarre contrast to our surroundings from somewhere in the depths of the limestone vampire den. Then the robotic voice answered, “Holodeck Safety Protocols are still in effect.”

“Okay, thank you.”

We looked at each other.

“This wound is not real, then.”

“Looks pretty real,” I said doubtfully, reaching out to take his arm. But I stopped short and kept my hands to myself. “Does it feel real?”

Vorik glanced at me through his eyelashes. “Perhaps you should look away.”

“Why?”

“You're squeamish,” he said as though it should have been obvious.

I shrugged. “Whatever. It's not my blood.”

His eyebrow rose but he didn't say anything else before he grabbed his wrist with his other hand and squeezed. More blood seeped from the wounds running in long drips down his arm. A little gush shot into the air.

He was right. I should have turned away.

“What the fu—Oh, gross,” I choked before I clamped my mouth shut and spun around so my lunch wouldn't come up next. Even though on some level, I knew that our bodies acted differently despite looking very similar on the surface, I still wasn’t prepared for that. I don’t think I would ever have been prepared for blood spurts. My stomach churned.

“It does feel real,” I heard him say, his tone completely indifferent, “and it is acting real as well.”

“Well jus—ggkkh. Stop playing with it and just take care of it, will you?”

Unable to stand there without imagining more blood spurting from his arm, I wandered away towards the mouth of the cavern. It opened up into a long, steep passageway that led outside. It would take some time to walk but I knew that’s where it went. So whether the air was actually cooler or better circulated, or I just imagined it was, being at the passage helped clear the dizziness somewhat. I certainly felt less like I would pass out, leaning against the rocky wall.

After a few minutes, Vorik joined me, his mouth turned in that slight secretive sort of smile that always killed me. “I did warn you to look away.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just so you know, we should find an herbalist or an apothecary as soon as we get back into town. You should have a Potion of Cure Disease on hand.” He looked over at me quizzically, so I clarified: “In case you get vampirism.”

This time my companion scoffed. “I cannot contract vampirism. I'm Vulcan.”

“What's that got to do with anything?” I laughed. “You think you're immune? Why? Because your blood is green or because your ears are already pointy? You were nicked with a vampire's claws, which means you can contract vampirism. Those are the rules of Skyrim set down by our lord and savior, Todd Howard.”

I felt more than I saw his eye roll. Together we ventured back into the gloom of the hallway. The torch in Vorik’s hand cast leaping shadows over the jagged limestone walls as we made out ascent.

“I am certain I cannot contract vampirism. This program was not made for my kind, the default avatar setting is human. And vampires can only be human, as they are human legends.”

“Uh-huh. Sure. Sounds an awful lot like more speculation than a logical assumption, my dude. You don’t have to take my advice if you don’t want to, but you’d better stay away from my neck!”

***

“Computer, end program,” Vorik said into the air. No sooner had the acknowledgment sounded than the world shimmered and disappeared around us. My house in Riften was replaced by the reflective metal and crosshatching, bonelike metal bars of the holodeck. Vorik’s armor and most of my own, with the exception of Gilmorrak and my belt, disappeared, replaced by our civilian clothes.

“Hey, how’s your arm, by the way?”

He unbuttoned the clasp at the cuff and rolled up the sleeve of his grey tunic. He twisted his forearm left and right for me to see. There was no trace of any blood now. No evidence that he’d been harmed at all.

“Evidently it was part of the holodeck program.”

I shook my head. “That’s weird though because I’ve been straight up stabbed and shot with arrows until I looked like a pin cushion and I still never bled. It’s got to be a vital part of the programming, dude.”

“It is strange,” he agreed, “but it shouldn’t be of any concern. The wound is gone now. It was likely an oversight on the part of Mr. Kim or Mr. Paris. Perhaps something about translating such an ancient game to the holodeck.”

I ignored his jab at Skyrim and flashed him a smile. “Unless you become a vampire in the next couple of days,” I said.

“I will not become a vampire.”

I shook my head at him and sighed as he led me towards the door. I was always a little sad to leave Skyrim, or any of the holodeck programs, honestly, but my crewmates needed time to play. If I didn’t have that pang of guilt and unfairness hanging over my head, I would be way too content to stay on a holodeck forever. It always astounded me while watching the show: How could these people have this technology and not want to be there all their lives?

“Can a person live in a holodeck program?” I asked as we exited. I recognized the next two eager adventurers as Ensigns from security, so I waved while Vorik nodded to them.

“No, so you should never try it,” Vorik said, catching on easily to my line of thought. He did that a lot. I guess I was just a simple sort of creature. “Most holodeck programs are not equipped for sustained use,” he went on, “You would drain the reactors quickly. And while some holodecks utilize food replicators, like our own, this is not true for each one. Non-starship decks tend to use lower grade protein synthesizers since holographic meals are not meant to be the staple of one’s diet. These would have negligible nutritional value and you would eventually waste away.”

“You’re a spoilsport.”

“And you would kill yourself chasing fantasy as a coping mechanism. Problems, even your emotional ones, should be faced head on. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.”

I stopped dead in the hallway and gaped at him. Vorik had continued several paces before he realized I was no longer beside him. He looked around expectantly, his hands clasped behind him, but my brain had 404-ed.

“Did you just…?” A smile crept onto my face. “Did you just… quote Albus mcfreakin’ Dumbledore at me?”

Vorik stared at me blankly.

“You did, didn’t you? You thought I wouldn’t catch it, but you did! You read it??”

Vorik’s eyes closed for a half a second longer than normal as he took a deep breath. His gaze cast downward for a moment as if resigning himself before he looked at me again. “Yes, I did—”

I rushed him and grabbed him by the arms, grinning from ear to ear now. “You did? You did! Ohmygosh! You have to tell me what you think. What part are you at? How far have you gotten? Were you planning on reading through all of them or were you just trying out the first one? Are you finished with it? Please—ohmygod—tell me everything!”

Appearing both bemused and like he had just realized he’d made a horrible mistake, my Vulcan friend led me towards the mess hall, succinctly answering my questions as rapidly as I fired them off.

***

“You don’t look too good,” I told Vorik as I set my bowl of spaghetti down at our table in the corner of the mess several days later. It was quiet, halfway between a midshift, and the hall was all but empty save for a handful of people and one Vulcan with his head in his hands.

At my voice, he sat up straight and blinked whatever it was bothering him away. “I am fine.”

“You look pale. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

Fork in hand, he started picking at his food. “I just need to meditate,” he mumbled.

I nodded and spun my own fork in my noodles idly for a few heartbeats. But like so many somewhat intrusive thoughts, I couldn’t keep it in my brain, and I opened my mouth to say conspiratorially, “Unless.”

“Giana,” Vorik warned, closing his eyes.

“Is the vampirism making you peakish?”

“I am not a vampire.”

“Sounds exactly like the sort of thing a vampire would say,” I replied, jutting out my lip in a face of disbelief. “But seriously, you could talk about it, you know. The actual thing that’s bothering you, I mean, not your unfortunate illness.”

Vorik rolled his eyes at me and continued to push his food around his tray. Even that he gave up after a few moments with a sigh and a shake of his head. “I haven’t been able to sleep. Or allocate the proper time to meditate. I keep going over our run-in with mining colony virus. There has to be something else we could have done, without leaving the captain to take care of herself.”

I barely suppressed a shudder at the mention of the nasty bugs that solidified my now-very-rational fear of anything insect-like. Doing what I did best, I covered it with humor. “Are you not sleeping at night because your new lifestyle requires you to sleep during the day?” He opened his mouth like he was going to chastise me, so I quickly added, “Captains are supposed to be able to take care of things themselves, that’s why they’re captains. Besides, there wasn’t anything else you could have done. We all did our best! We didn’t know we were being attacked. I can’t believe I, of all people, have to tell you this, but agonizing over it isn’t logical.”

“Perhaps not. But analyzing a situation where I believe my abilities to have failed me for the purposes of self-reflection and to ensure it does not happen again, is.”

I waved my fork around and shrugged. “If it makes you feel better, I’m mad at myself too for forgetting that stupid episode happened. Must’ve blocked it out. Those things were so nasty. And I bet if we weren’t all so caught off guard maybe we woulda thought of the holodeck trick too. I dunno, just be glad the captain came back when she did and don’t lose your head over it. I don’t want you to spiral out of control with your analysis, my dude.”

“I will not. I am not you.”

“Ouch.”

A new person joined us at the table. Their tray clattered next to mine and I turned to find Harry grinning at me. Instantly, I beamed back. His smile was always so infectious.

“Hey guys. What’s goin’ on over here?”

“Nothing,” Vorik said.

“It’s a secret.” I said over him.

“Secrets?” chimed a new voice, “I love secrets.” Tom sat on Harry’s other side and almost immediately began shoveling his mashed potatoes into his mouth as soon as his tray was down. “Do tell.”

“There is nothing going on,” Vorik repeated, his voice a little tighter. “There are no secrets. Giana is being impossible.”

“Vorik is turning into a vampire!” I said in a rush. Vorik folded his hands in front of his face and fixed me with a Vulcan’s closest approximation to a glare. I smiled and nudged his boot under the table with my own. He didn’t respond.

Harry, however, did. He lowered his spoon from his face, looking stricken, and fixed me with a very serious look. “Giana! We…we don’t say things like that around here…”

What?

My eyes widened as I realized what he was trying to say. “Oh! No! Just ‘cause the- skin and th-the pointy— No, nonononono. We were playing Skyrim together the other day and he was scratched by a vampire’s claws so I’ve been teasing him, that’s all! It’s not—no!”

Finally, Vorik looked satisfied and returned my kick under the table. Then it was my turn to glare at him.

“Oh. Good,” Harry sighed, clearly relieved he was spared a lesson in microaggressions, “I was going to say… I’d be surprised if that’s what it was coming from you.”

I ate my spaghetti in silence, hoping Vorik never thought that’s what I ever meant. Maybe I was laying it on a bit too thick, bringing up his vampire-hood every so often over the last couple of days. I really did just think I was being funny, but now I wasn’t so sure. Maybe I was just being a huge asshole.

“So you were hit by a vampire, huh?” Tom asked, bringing the conversation back. “Harry and I cleared out a den by Morthal for the Thaneship not too long ago. Harry wants to build the house.”

“I just think it’ll be better than all the pre-built ones!”

“Anyway, he had to chug two Potions of Cure Disease. He caught vampirism one right after the other.” Tom laughed and wolfed down the last of his steamed vegetables. “You end up bleeding?”

Vorik arched an eyebrow and glanced at me before warily answering, “Yes.”

Tom pulled an apologetic face. “Mmm, yup. You’re a vampire now.”

“Yes! I knew it!”

“But I am Vulcan,” Vorik said over me, “How can I become a vampire from Human folklore?”

Tom shrugged. “It’s all in the coding. It’s not that you’ll become human or anything, it’s just that the aspects of vampirism will be overlaid onto your Skyrim avatar and all the buffs and debuffs will apply. Think of it like a…a filter. A vampire filter.”

“See, no that’s what I was talking about; it had a purpose. Tom had to reinterpret the original game. Making you appear to bleed was probably just the indication that you caught something, otherwise, you’d never know because we don’t really have a convenient way to check our status. And you said it was probably nothing. Everything has a reason.”

Tom nodded.

I slurped the rest of my spagetti from the bowl and pushed it aside. “You ready to go back and get cured?” I asked Vorik. I wanted to get him alone again, maybe to keep talking to him about the virus or maybe make sure he didn’t think I was being rude. But I couldn’t keep one more from coming out. “The sooner you’re cured, the sooner the UV lights will stop burning your skin.”

“Will your vampire jokes cease when I am cured?”

I smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, probably.”

“Then absolutely.”

***

The holodeck hummed to life and the blank room started being filled with materializing objects. Vorik fidgeted with his sleeve and sure enough, once the front room of our Riften house came into focus, the bandage seeping dark green blood reappeared as well. Hopefully taking care of the vampirism would take care of the uncanny wound that was not really a wound as well.

“First thing’s first. Let’s find an apothecar—eee!” As soon as he looked at me, I recoiled back. “Vorik…your eyes…”

He barely looked like himself in the torchlight. His face was sunken and shadowed and his dark eyes had been nearly swallowed by blackness from the irises out through the whites of his eyes. Black vein-like lines spread from his sunken sockets like a sickness, reaching towards his cheekbones in a spiderweb of tendrils. I could see now how vampires could be considered completely terrifying.

“Holy shit, dude.” I reached up and grazed the side of his face with fingertips, still looking in wonder at the vampiric effects that Tom and Harry had engineered. With a horrified realization it hit me that, yes, this is what a monstrous vampire should look like to an everyday person and I understood all the horror stories.

Vorik stiffened slightly as the pads of my fingers swept his temple and with a jolt in my stomach, I realized what I was doing and pulled my hand away.

“Do… Do you feel different? You look way different. How did I not notice this before??”

“It was dark the last time we played,” Vorik answered. He strode to the washbasin and peered into the spotted mirror above it. He prodded his skin and turned his head from side to side, admiring the reflection. “The detail is rather astounding, and the effect is…unsettling.”

“You can say that again. I very suddenly don’t want to be a vampire anymore myself.”

“I do not feel different,” Vorik continued as though he were observing the results of a particularly interesting experiment. “Perhaps because the sickness hasn’t been given time to spread?”

“Or just because you aren’t in the sun yet.”

“Fascinating.”

‘Fascinating’ though it might have been, I really wanted to get him taken care of. Though I didn’t remember Skyrim vampires looking like this (so maybe the blackness around his eyes wouldn’t stay) he was starting to creep me out just being in the same room. The effect it had on me when it wasn’t just pixels, when it was suddenly someone I knew, didn’t sit right in my brain. Not to mention that I would probably be really disturbed if I had to watch him feed off NPCs to keep his powers up.

Speaking of, I wondered if this meant that joining The Companions was out of the question for me now. If vampires looked this strange, imagine what if would feel like to be a werewolf. I shivered at the thought of my skin splitting and actually sprouting hair all over my body.

Nasty.

“Sooo…” I began in a nonchalant voice, wandering to the table and picking up an apple from a wooden bowl. “Is there something you wanna say to me, maybe?”

Vorik turned the full force of his unnerving face on me and I had to physically stop myself from recoiling by clutching the back of a chair.

He sighed. “Yes, yes. I admit it. You were right. I am a vampire.”

For the first time, I noticed as he spoke that the teeth that would have been his canines if he were a primate were far longer and sharper than they had been before. “Oh shit, you’re growing fangs too, dog. Yeah, let’s get you fixed up before you start thirsting for my blood.”

His expression as I darted out the door told me that, at this moment, he didn’t need to thirst after my blood in order to want to rip my head off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If anyone actually made it all the way down here, gosh, I love you and you’re great and I appreciate you and I hope you enjoyed my nonsense.

#fictober19 #Star Trek: Voyager #Skyrim #Ensign Vorik #Vorik #Harry Kim #Tom Paris #Giana Moreno #OTP: Two Worlds Collided #Star Trek #Voy #Vorik x Giana #what can I say? just friends being friends #and I really wanted the vampires to be scarier so #idk #I'm also still not convinced this isn't garbage but whatever #I HOPE YOU ENJOYED ANYWAY #IF YOU READ IT THAT IS #Fiend writes

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alarawriting · 4 years

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Inktober #26: Dark

My name’s Mike London, and I hunt vampires, and that’s why I don’t love the darkness anymore.

Yeah, I know, I know. At this point you’re probably thinking “do we really have time to unpack all that?”, but the thing you’re getting hung up on is vampires, because vampires aren’t real. How could creatures who are technically dead survive only on blood, and if they were running around turning people into vampires every time they drank blood, why isn’t the world overrun with vampires? How could anyone function if they burst into flames when exposed to sunlight, why wouldn’t they show up on mirrors, does that mean they don’t show up on cameras, so on and so forth.

Okay, so most of the myths are wrong. You can see a vampire in a mirror… unless the vampire is positioned to see into your eyes, or their reflection. Vampires are stronger than humans but not by much – you know about that hysterical strength “mom lifts car off child” thing humans can do in extreme circumstances? They can do it all the time, because their bodies are constantly resetting to a perfect state based on what they were like at the moment of undeath, plus their self-image, with bodies that are perfectly healed except for anything that’s part of the self-image, like a scar that they’ve grown to identify with or a piercing. They’re faster than most humans, but they still have human muscles, so we’re talking Usain Bolt, not the Flash, or even a cheetah. They do burst into flames when exposed to strong ultraviolet light, a condition I can kind of sympathize with myself. And they aren’t created when a vampire drinks your blood, but when you drink a vampire’s, when your own blood levels are very low. As soon as a person has more vampiric blood than human blood in their system, boom, vampire.

They have only one really magical superpower, aside from the fact that they’re alive when they shouldn’t be, and it explains all the others that humans believe they have. If they can look into your eyes, and hold your gaze, they can control your mind. Make you think they’re invisible, make you think they just exploded into a hundred bats, make you compelled to do what they say.

It doesn’t work on me, because I’m an albino. And that’s why, despite the fact that all I ever wanted was to write programs, I am stuck hunting vampires as a side hustle. I’m still physically weaker and slower than they are, and while I see better in the dark than you do, I don’t see as well as they do. In light without UV components, such as standard indoor lighting, my vision’s more impaired than theirs, and a lot more than yours. But they can’t mesmerize me, and frankly, your average vampire has gotten so used to being able to mesmerize humans, it’s crippling for them to run into a human where it doesn’t work.

You probably haven’t got the vaguest idea why being an albino protects me. Maybe you have some notion that albinos have weird superpowers, since frankly in fiction we almost always do. You probably don’t know exactly how my disabilities work – in movies and TV, albinos never get to play albinos, it’s always white men in makeup.

Albinos have bad vision. Lack of pigment in the retina when we’re developing gives us vision problems that can’t be corrected with glasses. It’s like we have fewer pixels to see the world than you do, so everything’s going to be fuzzy no matter how strong the prescription lenses are. And a side effect of bad vision from birth is something called rhythmatic nystagmus, where our eyes go back and forth like an old DVD using pan-and-scan to show a movie on old-school near-square CRT televisions. (Old technology’s a hobby of mine.) I don’t have any conscious control or even awareness of it; I couldn’t stop my eyes from moving like that if I tried, short of closing them. My brain does post-processing on the moving image to make it look to me like my eyes aren’t moving, combining multiple snapshots from different angles into a single image. It means my ability to see a moving object is crap even if it’s close enough that I should be able to see it otherwise, but in theory it lets me see more detail than I would otherwise.

The thing is, there’s a reason the legends all have the vampires going “Look into my eyes”. They need to be able to make and sustain eye contact, the kind where you stare into each other’s eyes, and they can’t do that with eyes that are moving constantly. It’s not that I can’t see their eyes, because for me things don’t look like they’re going back and forth while my eyes move. It’s that they can’t look into mine.

I found this out the hard way last year. I was working at a big financial company, and I was behind schedule on the software I was building for them, and they had security rules that didn’t allow me to work from home. The boss used to say not to stay after hours, but I figured this was the kind of thing bosses say to make the company sound friendly and accommodating but is actually a control freak thing intended to benefit the morning people, which I have never been one of. I can’t drive – the state won’t give me a license, with my eyes – and I have chronic insomnia and equally chronic problems with waking up in the morning, making it impossible for me to rideshare with any of my co-workers. So I generally have an intermittently employed friend of mine who shares my apartment drive me places, and this means I’m usually late to work. If I can’t stay late and I can’t bring work home, I fall behind on my projects. Also, I do my best work late at night when there are no distractions. So I was in the habit of going to the bathroom with all of my stuff around 5:30 and then coming out at 6 after my boss had left. I could sit on the toilet with my laptop and continue to work, answering emails and setting Outlook to send them at 8 am in the morning the next day to make it look like I work normal hours, and then when I came out I could get back to the serious programming work, because my boss wasn’t a programmer and had no idea how to check the timestamps of my build check-ins.

It turned out it wasn’t corporate bullcrap after all. It was vampires. Vampires would come into the building to hold meetings on some kind of irregular schedule that meant something to them. I’d been working late for almost two weeks when they showed up, mesmerized my housemate and nearly ate both of us, and I had to kill a few of them with the combination of a steak knife from the kitchen and the cheap bamboo chopsticks I have a few hundred of in my drawer because I’m always getting Chinese takeout for lunch. See, you can’t actually stab a chopstick into a vampire’s heart – it’s too fragile – but stabbing with a regular knife only takes them out of commission for the two minutes or so it takes them to heal. But if you then stick a wooden chopstick in the wound, it prevents them from regenerating, and bamboo is apparently wood for vampire-killing purposes.

Also, I had a black light in my laptop bag, suitable for detecting whether my cats have peed on my laptop bag before I take it to work because they’ve done it so many times I’ve gotten desensitized to the smell of cat pee, and while I don’t like looking at UV light – my eyes have zero protection from it, so it’s painful – it’s a lot worse for vampires, whose skin will burn from very tiny amounts of UV exposure and can actually set on fire. And it’s just astonishing how often vampires will stand there trying to mesmerize you while you walk up to them and stab them in the heart, because they just can’t comprehend “human who cannot be mesmerized”.

And now that I know vampires exist and that I’m immune to their most powerful weapon… well, shit. I’m kind of stuck. I don’t actually know any other albinos, or anyone else with rhythmic nystagmus, and for normal people, wearing the kind of dark glasses that make it so the vampires can’t see your eyes will completely prevent you from seeing anything in the kind of darkness vampires like. I’m the only one I know who can do this. And they don’t kill humans constantly – they don’t need to – but they spread disease (they can’t get blood-borne illnesses but they can sure carry them) and they tend to pick on weaker humans to begin with, people who have less resistance to the bad effects of losing a lot of blood, because if chronically ill people seem sick and lethargic everyone assumes it’s their illness and not vampires attacking them. They’re like humanoid rats, in other words. If you had a well-behaved pet one who never harmed humans and only drank from volunteers, that one would be fine. But the rest of them are vermin.

Now, the best time to kill vampires is during the day, when they’re sleeping. Vampires know this. You are not going to find them when they’re sleeping, and if you did, you’d have to fight your way through their security guards, who are human, and do not know they’re protecting vampires, and really don’t deserve to have to deal with people trying to kill them. Also, being security guards, they are better at mayhem than I am; I’m an IT guy. So, lucky me, I have to go after them at night, when they have all the advantages except one: they expect to be able to mesmerize me, and they can’t.

Nighttime used to be my time. No bright sun glaring in my face and giving me a sunburn. Everyone around me having such poor vision from it being dark that my bad eyesight isn’t a disadvantage anymore, and when it’s dark enough, my eyesight gets better than theirs because my eyes collect every single photon that hits them, no filters. I’d walk around at night, or crank up my stereo and write code until 4 am.

But every time it’s dark, now, I know: they’re out there. They’re hunting. Feeding. And if I don’t track them down and get rid of them, people might die.

And that’s why I can’t love the darkness anymore.

#inktober 2019 #mike london #albinism #actually accurate information about albinism

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tlirswriting · 5 years

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Between Realms, chapter 3

Maxim threw his long white hair into a bun, put on his boots and gloves, and made sure all his things were in his coat pockets the next morning. Vampire killing tended to get messy, but this one probably wouldn't struggle too much, since she called him herself.

"Go get 'em," Darien said through a mouthful of scrambled eggs, sitting on the floor in front of the refrigerator.

"I'll get 'em," Maxim replied with a smile, his hand on the doorknob. "And they're something other than demons this time."

"It's gonna be demons later, though, huh?"

"And the devil pays better than most of my mortal customers are willing to, so at least there's that."

"We're gonna get a house soon," Darien half-sang.

"We're gonna have a vegetable garden and those dumb plastic flamingos, it'll be great."

"And we won't have to listen to our neighbors fuck anymore."

Maxim snorted. "We're in a capitalist dystopia, but it could be worse!"

Darien laughed. "Yeah, it could always be worse."

"Bye honey, I love you."

"I love you too, byeee!"

Maxim stepped out the door, closing it behind him.

"Vampires, huh?" Said the demon from last night, appearing on top of the fridge.

Darien sighed. "Can you please knock?"

"I have no interest in pointless courtesy," The demon said, leaning down to inspect the appliance's contents, hanging at an angle that wouldn't seem quite right had she been bound by the laws of physics. "And, of course, the Lower Division has much more lax regulations."

"Of course you do."

"I don't know how angels put up with all those stupid rules they have to follow. Well, I guess not all of them do, huh? Ooh, what do we have here..." She grabbed a bottle of cheap red wine and started chugging it.

Darien stood. "I, um..." Eye contact with a six-foot-something woman with slit pupils, a wingspan longer than he was tall, and goat horns poking out of her bright red buzzcut was, somehow, worse on Darien's nerves than eye contact with human strangers. "I'd rather you not do that."

"Understandable. Alcohol has no effect on me, by the way; you can't metabolize anything without a vessel, I just like the taste."

"Neat. So does it just...?"

"Things I swallow cease to exist."

"Okay then." Darien shifted his gaze around for a moment. "So, do you want to, like... play checkers or something?"

Maxim knocked on the door of Maria Jackson's apartment, introduced himself when she answered, and stepped inside. Her skin was a dark brown, although it had a grayish tinge to it, as one expects from the technically-dead.

"So, would you like me to dispose of the body, or just leave it?" Maxim asked, as per the usual.

"You can just leave me, I don't want people to waste their time on a missing persons case."

"Fair enough," Maxim pulled a silver dagger from its sheath on the inside of his coat. "That'll be, ah... one-fifty."

"Yup." She handed him the money, a small smile on her face. He held the knife to her throat, but hesitated. The two most effective means of killing vampires were to either severely injure the nervous system — typically by means of beheading — or letting silver fry them from the inside out through a chemical reaction the metal causes with the parasitic fungus infecting the body. Neither were particularly pretty to watch, but Maxim did what he had to do to protect humanity.

It's worth it, he reminded himself. There was a sadness in Maria's sunken eyes that made him less certain. She didn't look like a monster, and she was still young. She wasn't a hundred-year-old rich bastard feeding on the blood of the living, she was a woman who recently got out of college and wanted to make sure she didn't become like her attacker from the night before. Sacrificing her wouldn't be saving anyone.

"I can't do this, I'm sorry." Maxim pulled away, and tossed her cash back at her.

"What do you mean you can't? This is your job, dude, why am I any different from the rest of the things you kill?"

"Because you're innocent. I'm not a hitman, I'm an exorcist who also knows how to deal with vampirism and shit, okay? I kill monsters and I get restless souls out of people's houses because I can see them and I'm not a—"

"Wait wait wait, hold up, you can what?"

Maxim took a deep breath. He didn't normally explain the nature of his existence to people. "I can see them. When a demon crosses over into this realm, they're not tied to our rules; they can choose if you see them, they can shapeshift, they can teleport, whatever. So can ghosts. But I'm kinda... in-between, so invisibility doesn't work."

Maria stared at him for a second, visibly trying to decide whether or not she believed him and whether or not she should be afraid. "What do you mean by that last part?"

"Oh, I'm, ah... I'm an angel. Well, fallen. Technically not an angel anymore, because I quit my job, but um. Yeah."

"This might as well happen," She muttered, probably intended more for herself.

"It's weird, I'm stuck here on Earth, I'm stuck like this — as in, like, my appearance isn't fluid — but I can still see things people aren't supposed to sometimes."

"...Aight."

"But anyway, back to the reason I'm here. You don't have to die."

"Yes I do."

"No you don't. Vampires are only dangerous when they're hungry, so maybe if you keep the parasitic fungus taking over your nervous system fed you won't eat anyone."

"I'm sorry, feed the what?"

"Oh. Yeah, that's how vampires work, I forget it isn't common knowledge sometimes. It's like... have you heard of Ophiocordyceps unilateralis? That fungus that turns ants into zombies?"

"...No?"

"Ah, well, it's very interesting, you should read up on it some time. Anyway, the reason why vampires drink blood is because, rather than being airborne, the spores of the fungus inside you are spread through bodily fluids, primarily saliva, and having it come into contact with an open wound is one of the most efficient courses for it to take. However, aside from reproduction, it also requires higher amounts of protein and iron to survive than people usually have in their diets."

"This is disgusting."

"These things tend to be like that, yeah."

"Wouldn't it be easier if you just blew my brains out and called it a day?"

"Of course, but just because it's the easy way out doesn't mean it's right."

"I'll just do it myself if you don't."

"Listen, I'm not going to let anyone die if it isn't completely necessary. I have been alive for five hundred years, I've watched countless lives end because I wasn't allowed to intervene, my husband got close to being among them—"

"You're gay?"

"Irrelevant. I don't quietly sit by anymore, okay? That's just not what I do. I don't need more blood on my hands."

"I can respect that."

Maxim sighed. "I'm gonna have to go on a business trip of sorts later. Someone left the gates of Hell open again, and I've been asked to help clean up their mess. You can come with me, if you'd like to kill some demons."

"You know what? It's not like I have anything to lose. I'm in."

#my writing #between realms #original writing #writing #writeblr #amwriting #writers on tumblr #long post

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jastiss-blog · 6 years

Text

Trial by Fire Ch. 2 - Initiation (Ignis/femOC)

So, I feel like I enjoy these text posts a lot more. Easier to read, no links to click so, without further ado, let me just place chapter 2 here for your reading pleasure.

Summary: Ignis and Callie cross blades a second time. The strategist picks her brain as they dance, and to Callie's surprise, Cor is watching from the shadows. Ignis pushes her to complete her trial, doing some uncharacteristic things to discover more about the scrappy girl.

Or: Ignis throws Callie under the bus but it’s okay, it all works out.

Will remain SFW for some time. I’ll update when it becomes otherwise, if I decide I’m brave enough for it. No warnings apply at this time. Tagging @hypaalicious as you seemed interested in the first part.

ICYMI: Chapter 1

On the second day, Ignis became curious.

“Why ‘Callie?’” he wondered aloud, preparing an attack with his lance.

Callie dropped low into a defensive stance, arms up, ready to defend from whichever angle he deemed appropriate at that moment. Before she could answer, the strategist took a running start, polearm forward as he charged. Expecting a frontal assault, Callie waited, daggers coming close to her chest to block and sidestepped right to attempt a flank attack. Ignis had other plans, abruptly planting the tip of the lance and using momentum to swing around and aim a kick at her back, knocking her forward toward the mats.

Recovering with a roll just before she struck the ground, Callie bit back a growl for falling for his ruse. She swept around just in time to see a smug smirk grace the man’s features, incensing her further.

“Mortifera,” she spat. “For an educated man such as yourself, I figured you would see why my name would be a problem.”

While it was true that Ignis was versed in Old Lucian and thus understood the meaning of her name, he gave no indication. Instead, he summoned his daggers with a flash and an elegant flick of his right hand, gesturing for Callie to continue.

“The death dealer,” she whispered ominously. “I guess if you take that and combine it with the fact that I apparently look like some fairytale vampire, it tends to scare most people away.”

There was a brief moment of silence as Callie wound up for an offensive. She circled around his left, mentally flicking through her repertoire of scrappy moves; Ignis had trouble reading her less refined techniques.

While she pondered, Ignis took a moment to appraise Callie. Upon closer inspection, he could see why a person may compare her to an undead creature in jest: her waist long jet black hair, milky white skin and pale grey eyes gave her an ethereal look. Combined with her penchant for dark clothing and dark makeup, it almost seemed an accurate assessment.

“This is a first,” Ignis drawled in that sophisticated voice of his, musing complete. “It is said that names have power. Alas, yours does not seem to suit you at all.”

Though her hackles raised, Callie forced her temper to remain at a simmer. She was aware that her anger often got the best of her, which was something the strategist often used to his advantage. In the field, demons did not taunt; it was never something she had to worry about. In the room where she tried desperately to prove she was worthy of being a member of the Crownsguard, the jibes were her bane.

Humming in approval, Ignis gave Callie a small smile. “Finally managed to get your temper under control, have you?”

No answer came as she quickly swiped with her left hand then right, which were easily parried. Another lightning strike with her left hand aimed lower toward Ignis's knee had him overreaching, giving Callie just enough time to quickly spin, pressing her back to his. When she hooked her left arm around his right, he lost focus and struggled, at which time Callie brought her right hand up and back to press against the left side of his neck.

“Why not Callida?” Ignis asked, sans yield. He preferred it to go unspoken when she bested him. “Is that not your second name?”

“Too stuffy,” was all she said, releasing her grip on his arm and lowering her weapons.

Callie offered no other explanation, yet Ignis found himself wanting to press her for it. Typically, he preferred not to pry, instead allowing people to open up to him at their own pace. Callie was different than most in that she freely offered information about herself, with quirks upon quirks to share. Her secrecy piqued Ignis's interest.

Before he could inquire, however, someone started clapping in the far corner of the room.

“Mortifera, excellent work," praised the deep voice of Cor Leonis. He stepped from the shadowed back corner of the training room, a rare smile upon his face. "Not many people are able to even come close to our top tactician."

"Marshal," both Callie and Ignis greeted, Ignis's smooth voice masking Callie's squeak of surprise.

Cor approached the pair, Callie's blush intensifying the closer he came. If she had known the Marshal would be present, maybe she would have put more effort into grace, or... Astrals, something! It certainly hadn't been her best work.

"You seem ill at ease," Cor mentioned casually, eyes trained on Callie.

"Ah, sir, just a little nervous, I suppose," Callie hedged as she tried to meet his searching eyes with confidence. "Didn't expect anyone to see our casual sparring at these times."

"Nothing to be nervous about," the Marshal confirmed. "As I said, many find it difficult to make it into Ignis's personal space, let alone get a point on him. Yet you, untrained, a civilian... you are the one who is able. I'm failing to see where you should be even the slightest bit self-conscious."

Beside her, Ignis puffed up at the praise his superior laid upon him. Callie even saw a small smirk grace his typically stoic features. Of course, the man was prone to a bit of gloating. Were she in his position, she would be as well; there was just something about knowing you were top ranked at something.

Although, she was being praised at being able to best Cor's top-ranking member... Finally, Callie smiled, although the blush remained high on her cheekbones.

"You're too kind, Marshal," she conceded. "I've still much to learn at this point, however. Daemons are predictable. Humans, not so much, although I suppose they all have certain tells."

Cor broke into a large grin. "That is certain. I'm glad I found you here; I want to schedule out your initiation trial. When would you be available to do so?"

For the first time since greeting Cor, Ignis spoke up. "If I may, Marshal, why not now? Did you not say you were free for the rest of the evening, Callie?"

Time stood still as Cor cocked his head in contemplation. Callie felt like she couldn't breathe, choosing to glare daggers at Ignis, meeting his conniving smirk with hellfire. Her voice wouldn't work to deny that she was available right then. After a moment, Cor nodded.

"I do have the time and an available agent for you to spar with, Mortifera. If you have the time, we can start now."

It felt like now or never in that moment. Should she deny Ignis's hasty suggestion, effectively calling him a liar and potentially ruining the almost friendship they had and looking like a fool before the Marshal? The alternative was running headlong into something she should be far more prepared for, something that would drastically change her life.

Glancing over, Ignis was smiling gently at her. He gave a small, near imperceptible nod in Cor's direction, the suggestion clear. Go ahead. You are ready for this, it said.

Nodding, Callie turned to the Marshal, shoulders set and chin high. "Absolutely, sir."

"Excellent!" he exclaimed. "Give me a moment, and I'll be back with Artemis."

The Marshal turned and exited through the far doorway, at which time Callie let out the breath she didn't know she had been holding. It was surreal... she was about to do the single most important thing she would do in her lifetime.

"Callie?" Ignis called. "Callie, you look rather shell-shocked. I hope I haven't caused you hardship. I simply-"

Snapping to, Callie gave the adviser a bright smile to put him at ease. "It's... well, it's unexpected, that's for sure. I'm nervous as hell, but I don't think that would have changed no matter how many times we sparred. Is this really going to happen? Am I going to FAIL? Astrals..."

Not once had Ignis ever touched her other than with a weapon, or a helping hand to get off the mats. However, as Callie panicked, he laid a gentle hand on her shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. Callie froze, meeting his kind gaze with anxious eyes.

"Relax. Allow me to get you some water. You should be well hydrated for exercises like this," he offered and moved to the nearest benches, where he procured bottled water from his pack. "Please, try not to worry. The Marshal doesn't give praise to those who are undeserving. You'll be fine."

When Ignis returned to her, Callie had hit the floor and was stretching, taking slow, deep breaths to calm her nerves with her eyes firmly shut. It wasn't until he reached down, offering her the water that she looked up and smiled.

"I noticed he gave you an awful lot of praise," she ribbed, winking. "I suppose you're the most deserving individual around here, huh?"

The strategist barely concealed his smirk, muffling a chuckle with his right hand at her comment. "Some of us are more deserving than others, I will admit. I am nothing special, Callie. I am a man that takes my position very seriously, and I am fairly certain that were I not very good at what I do, Lucis will fall when Noctis takes the throne. Given his current mood, that is."

It was the first time Callie heard him talk about Prince Noctis. Of course, she had heard the rumors, that the Prince was of the particularly lazy sort and that as his adviser ("babysitter," people sometimes said) Ignis was responsible for keeping the boy in line.

"What's it like, being the right hand of the Prince?" Callie ventured, suddenly curious. Rumors were just that, however they were often founded in some truth...

Ignis didn’t immediately answer her query. "It's... truthfully, taxing," he admitted. "The Prince... his father's waning health and impending duty weigh heavily on him. I do what I can to make sure he is able to handle the kingdom when it comes time, but I am but one man against the indomitable will of an angst ridden young adult."

Two sets of incoming footfalls kept her from inquiring further as The Immortal returned with who Callie assumed was Artemis. She had short black hair that was spiked up and intense blue eyes. Callie rose gracefully to her feet and shot a sideways glance to her companion.

"Don't you have meetings to attend?" Anxiety crept into her voice. "This is going to be brutal; you don't need to see it."

A flash of something in Ignis's eyes gave her pause, but it disappeared before she was even sure it was there. He glanced at his phone and gave Callie a sly smile.

"According to my schedule, I have just enough time to witness your trial before meeting with Noctis," he countered. "Good luck, Callie."

An exasperated sigh left Callie, though she had no time to protest as Cor met her and introduced Artemis.

"I'd have you spar Ignis, but I'm sure you've figured out some of his tells, as you mentioned earlier," Cor explained while Callie shook hands with the woman she was to spar. "This is Artemis. She's an expert in short and greatswords. I'll be over on the benches as a referee of sorts. You may proceed once I'm at a safe distance. Good luck, Mortifera."

Across the room, Ignis had claimed a spot a far bench to watch Callie. In truth, he was due to meet with the Prince, but something drew him to the woman. What was it that was causing him to be so free with her? Cursing his curiosity, he retrieved his phone from his jacket pocket and typed out a quick text to Noctis.

Ignis (4:05 PM): Highness, are you awake?

Noctis (4:06 PM): I am now. What's going on?

The blond grimaced. Of course Noct would forget about their briefing today. Perhaps he should hide some vegetables in the Prince's dinner as punishment.

Ignis (4:07 PM): Noct, did you intend to sleep through today's briefing? I have numerous Council matters to discuss with you.

Noctis (4:07 PM): Probably. Why aren't you here, lecturing me in person? Are you LATE for something? Please, someone alert the presses. Ignis Scientia is late for a meeting.

Ignis (4:08 PM): It's true that I am not yet at your apartment. Crownsguard training ran longer than expected and as such, I had hoped we could reschedule for later this evening.

Noctis (4:09 PM): If it means I get to sleep longer, I'm in. Later it is.

Satisfied, though slightly miffed that the Prince had forgotten yet another briefing, Ignis went to stow his phone in his pocket when it vibrated with an incoming message.

Noctis (4:09 PM): Wait, wait. Is this about that new assassin chick? Gladio said she was hot. Are you late because of a WOMAN, Specs? This is gold.

The strategist was piqued by Noct's assassin comment, but chose not to answer that particular question, deciding instead to greet Cor as he approached.

"Marshal."

In the middle of the room, the two women were already fighting. Callie was on the defensive, gauging Artemis's fighting style while keeping her distance.

"What do you think?" Cor asked, taking a seat next to Ignis and observing the women with keen eyes.

"Is it true that she's meant to be an assassin?" Ignis queried in return, pointedly ignoring Cor's curiosity, eyes trained on Callie as she used a butterfly kick to avoid a strike from Artemis.

The Immortal didn't immediately comment, also watching carefully. Artemis had switched to the greatsword, aiming heavy blows in Callie's direction. That simply won't be effective on someone so quick, Ignis mused. Sure enough, Callie used the increased recovery time to leap over Artemis and land some quick blows on her exposed back before dancing away, expecting a counterattack.

"You must have been speaking to Gladio. It's true, in a sense," Cor finally answered. "We're not looking to simply go out and murder political figures. Things with Niflheim are getting rather strained. The King has the Glaives outside the city, but myself and Clarus thought it best to have a stealth agent within our ranks that could enact the King's will beyond his current reach. The Glaives are specialized in magic and combat, for the most part."

“A single stealth agent?”

Callie screeched as a blow glanced off her leg, causing her to stumble backwards. Artemis closed in to finish her work, and for a moment, Ignis thought Callie was bested. He was quickly proven wrong as the raven haired woman suddenly rolled forward and… Astrals, what was she doing?

Both men leaned forward, watching as Artemis started, confused by the turn of events. She was clearly expecting her opponent to dash backwards or accept her fate. Callie rolled into a crouch and proceeded to execute a sweeping kick that toppled Artemis, giving Callie time to pounce forward and press her daggers to the other woman’s neck in victory.

Cor was on his feet in an instant, a grin on his face as he strode quickly toward the women. Ignis remained seated, elbows resting on his knees, fingers steepled before his mouth. When Callie caught his eye, she could sense more than see his satisfied smile. He then nodded and got up, taking his items and leaving the training room.

Once settled into the Noct’s R8 and en route to his apartment, Ignis took a moment to reflect. Callie was obviously going to be an excellent addition to the Crownsguard, and yet he found himself worried for her future as a lone agent. That in itself gave him pause; why would he be so fretful over the fate of a woman he knew very little of? Ignis couldn't convince himself that it was due to simple comradery. What, then, was the issue?

His mind was preoccupied as he navigated the roads of the Crown City, the beautiful colors of dusk painting the sky. Opening a can of Ebony with one hand and raising it to his lips, he wondered if perhaps his preoccupation was due to his lack of personal relationships throughout the years. He was too busy with his duties to even consider being close to someone as a friend or otherwise; it simply would not be fair to them.

I suppose I shall be seeing more of her in the coming days, Ignis considered as he pulled into the garage at Noct's residence. I will unravel this mystery.

#ffxv #ffxv fanfiction #ignis scientia #female OC #iggy throwing Callie under the bus #she'll be ok #cor leonis #these dummies flirt by fighting probably #Iggy confused by feels #chocobros #noctis lucis caelum #noct teasing ignis

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ocegion · 7 years

Text

Benny moans as he laps at Dean’s neck, collecting the drops of blood, mixed with sweat, that fall down his neck into his collarbone and tracking them back up to the wound with his tongue. His hips thrust into Dean’s body hard and fast, and the man underneath him, who clings to him like he was dear life, moans from pleasure, from pain, from bliss.

Dean has already come twice, his cock resting soft on his come-covered stomach, and Benny isn’t far behind. After two more thrusts and a deep, long grunt, Benny comes inside him. His hips shake slightly as he rides his orgasm out, and then he falls limp over Dean, who doesn’t seem to mind. Benny is still licking lazily at Dean’s neck, although by this point there is barely any blood left. It’s mostly a comfort thing.

A few seconds later, Benny rolls off Dean with a satisfied sigh. Blood covers his lips and part of his beard, but that doesn’t seem to bother Dean when he returns the vampire’s soft smile with one of his own, nor when Benny beckons him closer for a kiss and he gladly complies. Benny wraps his strong arms around Dean as they move their lips together, and then tucks Dean’s head into the crook of his neck, gently stroking his hair and kissing his scalp.

“How are you feeling, chere? Did I take too much?”

“I’m a bit dizzy. But I think that’s mostly from having had my brains fucked out” Dean chuckles lightly, nuzzling into Benny’s neck. “I’ll just have you make me a strong breakfast in the morning and everything will be fine as hell.”

Benny hums absently as his hand strokes Dean’s back. Dean lets him do so for a few minutes and then looks up at him, resting his chin on Benny’s chest.

“You’re tense, Benny. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, baby. Just relax and rest for a while, will you?” “Benny.”

Dean’s tone is calm but nonetheless gives room to no arguments. Benny sighs and makes his hand stop its pacing on Dean’s shoulder, which he starts massaging absently.

“It’s the Old Man. He, huh, he wants to know when I’m planning on turning you.”

Just as he fears, Benny immediately feels Dean tense up in his embrace when he says those words. He just continues with his massaging, hoping to knead some of the tension and worry out of his lover’s body with his bare hands. Dean doesn’t say anything until it has worked, to a certain degree, and his voice is calm enough when he replies.

“I hate him.”

“Everyone does here. Not even Sorento can stand him anymore.”

“Why the hell does he even care?”

“It’s ‘cause you’re mine,” Benny replies, breathing heavily, “ and I’ve never bothered hiding that you’re much more than a blood slave to me. He thinks that if I care so much about you and I’m not gonna let anyone else feed on you, then I must turn you sooner or later. Before I could argue that you were too young and I wanted to give you time to grow a little more, but now....”

“I was too young, Benny.”

“I know, Dean, I know.”

Benny sighs, more tiredly this time, and presses a kiss to Dean’s head.

Dean had been barely 20 years old when his father, a hunter, made the mistake of targeting and beheading one of the oldest vampires in America, and one of the Old man’s few remaining friends. Within a day, Benny’s maker had him and his whole nest hunting him and his family down.

Benny had been tasked with keeping an eye on the man’s older son, Dean, and had watched him over the course of a week, getting to know him from afar and gaining sympathy for him. Therefore, once John’s body was dry of blood, Benny jumped right before his maker’s attention shifted to his weeping sons and defended them.

The Old man didn’t particularly like it, but Benny was his favorite, after all, and he managed to put the boys out of danger. They could always use human servants, after all, and those two boys were strong and healthy. Indeed, Dean had definitely used his charm and various skills to make works for the nest, mostly eliminating enemies, time and time again since that day seven years ago.

Benny’s always wanted to believe that the moment where he fought to keep Dean and his brother out of his maker’s anger made Dean see him as different from the rest of the nest, because otherwise, the fact that Benny got his trust so easily left uncomfortable implications about the relationship they soon found themselves into.

That was something that irked the Old man as well, having Dean as Benny’s personal servant and lover, but some talking with him made everything okay. Not so much when three years later Dean helped Sam run away from all of it. The various scars on Dean’s back, which now Benny gently runs his fingertips over with an unreadable look on his face, and on many other parts of his body are proof that Dean had had to pay before Benny was allowed to take him back to safety and tend to him.

“I don’t want to be a vampire, Benny” Dean mutters, his hands turning into fists next to Benny’s body.

“I don’t want you to be, either. I’m okay with what I am but I know I’m a monster, and I don’t want to take any more humanity from you than I already have. Every time he mentions it, I just… I just want to rip his head off.”

“Do it, then.”

“What?”

Dean’s looking up at Benny, who meets his gaze with a raised eyebrow. His face is completely serious, and Benny knows that the storm he sees behind his eyes and on his tense features means he’s been thinking about this for some time.

“You just said you wanted to rip his head off, didn’t you? And also that no one stands him anymore. He’s stuck to the past and he does more harm than good to the nest at this point. If it’s still standing it’s because you take charge of everyone behind his back. So why not just behead him and officially take his place?”

It takes a few moments for Benny to answer. “It’s not that easy, Dean, and you know that. He has few connections, but the ones he does have are powerful. It’d be a hell of a mess.”

Despite Benny’s apparent negative, the right corner of Dean’s mouth twitches upwards and his eyes shine. “You didn’t say you didn’t want to, though.”

Benny blinks at him a few times, momentarily taken aback, and then a deep chuckle comes from his chest, reverberating through his body. He rolls aside and ends up on top of Dean, like a few minutes earlier. He pins Dean’s arms down above his head with a single hand, and he noses into his neck, where the still-healing wound is. Dean’s breathing hitches, and after all these years Benny knows that it’s pure lust at being so much at his will.

“Mmmmm, what is it, Dean? You want to be the little, pretty pet of a powerful vampire lord? Isn’t what I give you now enough for your greedy little self?”

“C’mon, Benny, don’t be an ass. You know I’d be happy with a far simpler life than this, with anything, as long as I have you with me. I just think you’re better fit for the role than him. And deserve it more, too.”

Benny hums again and happily nibbles on the opposite side of Dean’s neck, worrying the skin between his teeth but not hard enough to break it. “Aren’t you worried that that would draw an awful lot of attention to me? I’d have plenty suitors after that. Any of them might catch my eye and leave you aside.”

“Nope, not happening” Dean replied, voice easy and completely carefree. “You love me too much, you got eyes for no one else. Besides, I’d kill anyone who thought they could get you away from me.”

Benny raises his sparkling gaze to Dean and smirks playfully at him. He moves up to catch Dean’s lips with his own, and as they kiss he turns around again, this time ending with Dean lying on top of him.

Once the kiss breaks Benny lets his eyes wander through Dean’s face. Some moonlight filters through the window and lands on his shoulder and the left of his face, making his skin silver, almost white in sharp contrast to the dark tones in the shadow. Benny’s eyes drink all of it up, and Dean does the same with him, a soft and loving look on his eyes.

One hand remains wrapped around Dean’s lower back, but the other moves to barely brush his fingertips on Dean’s skin. The man shivers as he lets Benny go from his shoulder to his cheek, passing through his neck, and going to his lips afterwards in a path that he’s traced a thousand times.

It seems the conversation has died down, but after a long while in which he gets lost in mapping Dean’s skin, Benny speaks again.

“What if we just left?”

Dean looks startled, obviously lost in the sensations Benny’s touch brings him.

“What do you mean?”

“We forget about everything and leave it all behind. No Old man, no nestmates, no power struggles, no turning you and no nothing. We go away to where no one will find us and settle down, we’ll make it work somehow. You, me, and nothing else. How’s that sound?”

Dean blinks a few times, surprised. He wasn’t expecting that, and despite the beauty he sees on Benny’s words, he knows they’re just that, empty words. It’s far from being the first time he’s said something along those lines, and while he knows that Benny’s not lying about wanting something like that, both of them know that they can’t do it. Not unless they’re ready to be hunted and put down.

Nonetheless, he smiles softly and bends down to kiss Benny gently.

“Sounds amazing.”

Benny chuckles, with a shine of longing in his eyes that neither of them will acknowledge. He rolls one more time, getting both of them on their sides again and tucking Dean into his chest protectively.

“Enough of that, though. You could use some sleep, couldn’t you? So get to it.”

Instead of answering, Dean yawns. Benny laughs as he feels Dean relax into his arms, accepting that Benny’s put an end to their conversation, and slowly drifts away to sleep. Benny doesn’t let him go, holding and rocking him gently.

Benny stays awake, and as he enjoys the warmth of Dean between his arms he lets his mind wander. A small cottage lost somewhere in Louisiana would be perfect. Or maybe Kansas would do just as well, it was Dean’s home after all. He’s seen the Old man destroy people who’ve left him before, and he knows it’d be a suicide, but he can still dream. And in all his dreams, he has Dean beside him.

#Benny Lafitte #Dean Winchester #Deanbenny #my writing #not dark really #although it does hove feeder!Dean #so take that as a warning I guess

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dialovers-translations · 3 years

Text

Diabolik Lovers GRAND EDITION for Switch ;; More, Blood ー Azusa Dark [10]

ー The scene starts in Yui’s bedroom

Yui: ( ...Even if I was forced to, I still ended up hurting Azusa-kun. )

( No matter how many times I begged him to let me tend to his wounds, he wouldn’t listen... )

Azusa-kun, uhm...Is the wound from the other day okay now?

Azusa: It’s fine...

...It’s properly marked in my skin. This clearly. See?

Yui: ( It looks anything but fine... )

Azusa: Yui-san.

...I have a favor to ask.

Yui: A favor?

Azusa: Yes...It isn’t anything big but...

Well...Uhm...

Please inflict even more wounds on me...Okay? You can do that much, right?

You can, can’t you...!?

Yui: A-Azusa-kun...

Azusa: Come on, hurry up and hurt me. Punish me.

Yui: I-I can’t do that...!

Azusa: ...In that case, can I lend you a little helping hand again? Please? It’s fine, right?

Yui: ( Oh no. At this rate, once again... )

ー Ruki enters the room

Ruki: ...What are you two doing?

Yui: Ruki-kun!

Azusa: Ruki...

Hear me out. She won’t listen to me.

I’m only asking her to hurt me though...

Ruki: ...Good grief, you truly are...Guess you’ll just have to keep on begging then.

ー Ruki leaves

Azusa: ...Well then, Yui-san.

I’ll beg lots, so you’ll listen to me, right...?

Fufu, fufufu...!

Yui: ( Aah, how did things turn out this way...? )

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the living room

Yui: ( Afterwards, I ended up hurting him again... )

Haah...

Ruki: Oi, you.

Yui: Y-Yes...?

Ruki: ...About Azusa...Have you ever hurt him (1) in some way?

Yui: ...I have against my will, but...

H-However! I never once wanted to hurt him!

I just don’t understand why he does that...

Do you know, Ruki-kun? About him...

Ruki: You will never be able to understand us through your own value system. I suppose you’ll just have to rack your brains over it.

Yui: ...

Ruki: He...Azusa is the type of guy who believes that his reason for being alive lies in having pain inflicted on him in one way or another.

Yui: Pain...? What do you mean...?

Ruki: Figure that out yourself. You’ve got a set of brains in that head of yours, don’t you?

ー Ruki steps away

Yui: ( I wonder what it means for pain to be what gives reason to your being... )

...Haah...I don’t get it at all.

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the library at school

Yui: ( I tried asking Ruki-kun again, hoping to get to know Azusa-kun even a little better... )

*Flip*

Yui ( But the only thing he told me, is that Azusa-kun was once a gypsy... )

( Azusa-kun is a Vampire, right? Do Vampire gypsies...even exist? )

ー A flashback ensues

Azusa: Ruki. Nn, This. A knife...I sharpened it yesterday.

Ruki: ...

Azusa: Take it.

Ruki: ...Like I saidーー

Azusa: Punish me with this.

Cut me. If you can’t do that. You can punch me as well. Anywhere you want.

Ruki: I refuse.

Azusa: W-Why...?

Ruki: ...Why won’t you understand? You’re no longer at your friends’ place, or at the orphanage.

ー The flashback ends

Yui: ( I thought that maybe I’d understand why Azusa-kun wants to get hurt that badly, if I educate myself on gypsies... )

*Flip*

( ...I see. Gypsies were people living in the Eastern parts of Europe. )

( ‘Like travellers, they would live constantly on the move’, it says... )

*Flip flip*

*Thud*

Yui: ( I wonder how this connects back to Azusa-kun? )

Hm...

Azusa: ...Eve...

Yui: Wah!?

Azusa: I lost sight of you, so I figured you had been killed by Kanato-san...

So...What are you doing here?

Yui: U-Uhm...

( What now? I wonder if I could ask Azusa-kun about the gypsies? )

( But... )

Azusa: ...? Were you researching something?

Yui: No, it’s nothing serious.

( I probably shouldn’t just yet... )

Azusa: I see...I kind of feel like...You’re hiding something from me.

Yui: I-I’m not?

Azusa: ...

I don’t know what you’re thinking butーー

ー He suddenly bites her

Yui: Ah...!

Azusa: While you’re doing your own thing, I’ll have a sip of your blood...

Yui: A-Azusa-kun!

Azusa: ...

Right. There’s something I want to show you.

*Rustle*

Azusa: This is the scar you put on me the other day...

I gave it a name.

‘Eve’. A wonderful name, don’t you think?

Come on, say hello to her as well.

Yui: ( I still don’t understand this guy...! )

Azusa: Why won’t you greet her? I’ve been so kind to introduce her to you...

Come on, give Eve a kiss.

Selection

→ O-Okay (M)

Yui: O-Okay.

...Azusa-kun, give me your hand.

Azusa: ...Here...

Yui: ...

Azusa: What are you doing? Come on, hurry up...!

Yui: ( I have no other choice... )

*Rustle*

Azusa: ...Fufu, nice.

It stings a little, and feels great.

Come on, do it more. Bite me. Make it hurt...

Yui: I-I can’t...

Azusa: You can’t...? Why?

→ I can’t (S)

Yui: I can’t.

Azusa: You can’t? Don’t worry, you can.

I’ll teach you how.

Come on, do it.

Yui: I’m sorry, I just can’t...

Azusa: ...

Why won’t you listen to me?

Azusa: Whatever. I’ve heard enough...

ー He continues sucking her blood

Yui: Aah...!

Monologue

Azusa-kun sometimes has the saddest look in his eyes.

The more I try and figure out the reason (理由),

the more of a mystery,

he becomes to me.

I shouldn’t try and get to the bottom of his heart (心の奥),

any further.

I am well aware of that, however...

This feeling of wanting to get to know him better,

keeps on growing bigger...

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) 手をあげる or ‘te o ageru’ literally means ‘to raise your hand at someone’ (as if to smack them), but here it is used as a synonym for hurting in general.

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#diabolik lovers #dialovers #azusa mukami #more blood #diabolik lovers translation #mbazusadark10

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