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thewhumpcaretaker · 8 months ago

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⚜ Marquis of Los Angeles: Ch. 2 - Domination

ཐི♡ཋྀ Thank you for the beta-read, @evrensadwrn! ཐི♡ཋྀ

Summary: LaCroix briefs Vincent on the new world he has just entered into, with the expectation that he will be an obedient ghoul. But Vincent is still struggling to gain the upper hand.

Author's Note: I made myself sad writing this - I want Sebastian to turn from Whumper to Caretaker already!

TW: mind control, emotional manipulation, strangulation, kidnapping

It was not LaCroix’s habit to keep his subordinates close to him. If it was wise to keep enemies close, then it was wiser to keep envious inferiors at such a distance that they had no opportunity to become enemies. Ghouls ought to have no knowledge of their master’s weaknesses, and no importance as anything other than pawns. They ought to view him as a solitary, impenetrable figure, above even their understanding. But Vincent Bisset de Gramont proved himself an enemy from the start, and therefore, an exception.

LaCroix repeated that name in his head and smiled, rolling it and playing with it, along with the bullet in his palm which he had decided to keep as a souvenir. Vincent had become so incensed when LaCroix refused to use his title that he determined on the spot never to use it again. The man had to be taught a lesson. “You are no Marquis any longer, let alone an ‘Autem Imperator,’ Vincent. Those titles have no meaning here. You will learn new titles. ‘Prince.’ ‘Regnant.’ ‘Domitor.’ And they will belong to me, not to you - as do all things where we’re going. Know your place.” He leaned back into the quilted suede of his seat, letting starlight and the dimmed glow of the cabin play across his features to what he hoped was a mysterious and intimidating effect.

“Your hubris knows no bounds, Prince,” Vincent spat back, clutching the arms of his seat as if his wrists were lashed to them. “They’re looking for me even now. Do you think you can walk into a High Table duel and make off with the highest ranking –“

“No one is looking for you, because no one knows you’re missing. Everyone who saw me believes they saw a kindly priest who said his respects over your body before helping that fellow – The Harbinger, I believe you call him – lay you to rest in a casket for your mortician to carry away. Tomorrow, that empty casket will be buried.”

A flash of panic before his pretty green eyes lit up again. “The mortician will – “

“The mortician wasn’t your man. He was mine. I sent a local friend to take his place, and to oversee the proceedings. You’re as good as dead, Vincent. I’m dreadfully sorry.”

He went as ghostly white as his travelling companion then. He remained very quiet while Sebastian explained to him the meanings of those important titles he’d mentioned, as well as other relevant words such as “Masquerade” and “Camarilla” and “Ventrue.”

LaCroix’s hope of entertainment during the flight was very much fulfilled. Vincent made for a captivating (if pitiful) image, with blood still smeared across his forehead and wetness sparkling in his eyes. LaCroix couldn’t stop staring at him and wondering whether he’d really cry or not. It filled him with a strange mix of sadism and sympathy that kept the Prince continuously in suspense. It sent him inexplicably trembling to hear Vincent say, “You’ll have to forgive me, Sebastian, I’m just so confused. Please…help me understand everything.”

He was coherent enough to ask intelligent questions though, and always seemed to latch onto those subjects that were a little too top-secret for a first conversation with a ghoul, whilst sighing that he was just so confused and scared. Clearly, he knew his way around a syndicate like the Camarilla and went straight for the vital information. When at last the Prince tired of this game and started to inquire about Vincent’s own organization, he refused to divulge anything.

It confused Sebastian a little. Every other ghoul he’d ever created had hung on his words in an ecstasy that totally drowned out the loss of their former life. They typically begged to repay him for saving them and fell over themselves to please him until he was either amused or disgusted. They certainly didn’t issue desperate pleas and threats about returning to their old life, or try to ply information out of him, or protect their old secrets. But Vincent? Well…there was no doubt that Vincent was affected by Sebastian. Sometimes his eyes lingered on LaCroix as if he wasn’t quite able to look away. But the look there wasn’t puppy love, it was…horror. Hatred. As if Vincent was looking at an old grudge who had wronged him grievously. Something wasn’t right.

He wasn’t in deep enough, that was all. He’d only taken the first sip of vitae – two still remained to form a full blood bond. And he was hardly a pliant individual, that much was evident. For now, Sebastian supposed he’d have to secure the ghoul’s cooperation via commands. “Vincent. When I ask you a question about the High Table, you will answer me directly, honestly, and without embellishments. Do you understand?”

A glazed, vacant look replaced the pitiful one. “I understand.”

There, good. Sebastian let out a breath, only just realizing how tense he had become, and began his inquisition.

He knew a little about the High Table already. It was not so different from the Giovanni, but even larger by membership the Camarilla, and impressive for a human construction. It was difficult to be anyone significant in either the human or kindred underworld without running across the High Table’s activities at some point. But the Autem Imperator (Sebastian might not call him by his title out loud, but he wasn’t forgetting it for an instant in his own mind) offered a unique view of its proceedings. Within minutes, LaCroix knew who held each seat, how communications passed between members, how those communications might be intercepted, into which countries their influence had spread (it was most of them), and even where the Elder resided.

It had been no idle tip, he realized, that suggested he should pay a visit to his home country and rest in the basilica that day. It had been, in fact, pure gold in the form of an anonymous email. He almost passed it up as an attempted ruse or ambush, even with all the power promised by the stranger on the other end. But it also spoke to a Masquerade violation, and even the Nosferatu could not trace it. The sender must have had a contact, someone who could encrypt on their level. So he went personally, just for 24 hours, with the resolution that he would return to the safety of LA as soon as possible.

Remembering at last to the original purpose of his visit, LaCroix asked his ghoul one final question, shortly before landing.

“Do you have an associate who would go by the initial ‘C’?”

Even under domination, he rolled his eyes. “Of course I do. You’ll have to be more specific.”

Sebastian held out the message on his phone. “Who could this have been?”

“Is it true that you can help someone live beyond death? If you really are I’ve been told you are, then come at once, to Paris. Come to the Sacré-Coeur Basilica just before dawn. If you’re lucky and I’m unlucky, you will find a man there who cannot escape death any other way. If you keep him alive, he will offer you knowledge and power equal to your own, pertaining to a human organization you may know as the High Table. Take him away from me, change him, disappear him, I don’t care. Only save his life and make him happy, and you will have my eternal thanks. He does not know, and will never know, what he means to me.”

- C”

“My bodyguard, Chidi.” His voice was strained almost to the breaking point, and his eyes still fixed on Sebastian’s phone even after the email was closed. Sebastian had no questions about whether he was faking his tearfulness this time.

“A ghoul of your very own, of sorts! Where can I find him?”

Vincent closed his eyes for a moment before mustering an answer. “…He’s dead.”

“Ah, splendid. That saves me a great deal of trouble.”

And then Vincent did what no ghoul, whether on one sip of vitae or three, should have been capable of doing. He sprung forward and closed hands around his domitor’s neck.

.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸. ཐི♡ཋྀ.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.

It took Vincent much longer than it should have to recall that Sebastian didn’t need to breathe. By that time, he was already being dragged off by the enormous, visibly supernatural thing that Sebastian had introduced as “The Sheriff.”

“Get this brainless lump off of me!”

“Hey,” The Sheriff grunted. Vincent paid him no mind, and continued addressing LaCroix with exactly as much civility as he deserved, all the while straining against the boulder-heavy hands holding him back.

“You will not SPEAK to me that way and you will not – “ Fuck, he hated the way his voice was shaking… “You will not speak of my bodyguard’s death as – as ‘splendid!’”

“And you will not speak to me at all until you can behave yourself!” LaCroix retorted. “SILENCE!”

The voice seemed to go out of Vincent’s throat. All his resistance had been used up in the outburst and he sunk numbly back into his seat.

LaCroix was panting, a shaking hand against his neck. He adjusted his tie and recovered himself enough to laugh. “Imagine trying to strangle a vampire! And the one holding your life in his hands, no less. You’re one to talk of brainlessness. And just when I was beginning to respect your cunning.” Vincent opened his mouth and nothing came out, so he spat in LaCroix’s face instead.

“Oh for god’s sake - You don’t speak AND you don’t move!” Vincent smiled as he watched LaCroix wipe at his face with a handkerchief, scowling. But another wave of terrible compulsion spread through his limbs, and then he was paralyzed.

It was such a strange feeling, being “dominated.” It was the same magnetism that drew him to LaCroix when he first laid eyes on him (that must be the “vitae” he had spoken about), but stronger, and more concentrated. Making him capable of magnificent feats, making him motivated, drawing his focus, making things important to him. As if a power was bursting out from inside of Vincent. It wasn’t so unlike being high, and not wholly unpleasant. But it was not his to control, not a part of him. It was LaCroix’s, and he hated it for that, and he hated LaCroix for that too. Maybe, if he just held onto that hatred…

But LaCroix’s conversation with his Sheriff broke his concentration. “No, I don’t want him in a cell, much less his own apartment. He’s not fully dominated and it’s a security risk. I don’t understand it, but I need to maintain a tight hold over him even if I have to do it by manual override. He stays in the penthouse, with me.”

If The Sheriff understood that, he conveyed it only by grunting.

Damn it. Any chance to get out of LaCroix’s grasp was slipping away. Again, he struggled to protest, but it was useless. He couldn’t speak. His own body was refusing him. It felt traitorous and alien and there was no one to help him, no one looking for him, no Chidi ever again and absolutely nothing he could do. If he had a voice, he would probably be screaming, he realized. But instead, for the second time that day, he floated on a sea of bloody misery, gasping worse and worse by the second. As the jet went into final descent, its weightlessness hit him in the stomach and drove home a second wave of fear.

LaCroix was watching him, leaning over him, speaking to him, in much the same way one might speak to a broken printer shortly before kicking it. He lay a hand on Vincent’s chest to feel his shallow heartbeat and the very core of Vincent’s being rebelled against the way that it soothed him.

“Why are you not calm? You shouldn’t be feeling this way, I don’t understand why it’s not working…” He fixed LaCroix with the most hateful stare he could manage without moving his facial muscles. Why do you think, you useless fils de pute? He felt tears rolling silently down his cheeks. Fine. Good, even.

Again, LaCroix’s magnetic voice overpowered his will with a rush, even more hideously blissful than before. Perhaps it was more in harmony with him than the last had been... “Be calm, Marquis. I command you. Don’t be so afraid.”

And all the wild contents of his heart slipped away into a soft, empty, merciful void.

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#marquis de gramont x sebastian lacroix #marquis de gramont #sweetblood #sebastian lacroix #vtm jw #wickblr #vampire the masquerade #whump fic

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malusrecord · 3 months ago

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" Facta est autem et CONTENTIO INTER EOS, quis eorum videretur esse major. At illi dixerunt: DOMINE, ECCE DUO GLADII HIC. At ille dixit eis: SATIS EST. "

An independent, private, and highly selective multimuse rp blog with an emphasis on horror featuring SISTER HEDWIG & SISTER ANGELA from the visual novel MISERICORDE as chronicled by Kala. Please read the rules before following or interacting. This blog is 21+ only, minors and non-rp blogs DNI.

HOME - RULES - MUSES - PROMO CREDIT

" When Moses conversed with God, he asked, " LORD, WHERE SHALL I SEEK YOU?" God answered, "WITH THE BROKENHEARTED." Moses continued, "But Lord, no heart could be more despairing than mine." And God replied, "THEN I AM WHERE YOU ARE. "

#misericorde vn #misericorde vn rp #visual novel rp #misericorde #multimuse rp #I also muse the Mother Superior as well (and more Mis muses might be added in the future) but Angela and Hedwig are my favorites #;;ooc: self promo

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fantisyoflove · 8 months ago

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Raising Them Right

Part 3

James finished out his season on a high. They had won the Quidditch World Cup! His team combined their victory party with his stag do and invited his friends Remus and Peter as well! They had taken an international portkey all the way to Canada for him.

They celebrated well into the night and James was dizzy with joy at the thought of finally meeting his Omega for real. He knew he had to hold back a little because this was all so new to both of them. He was determined to be the best Alpha he could be.

[]

Saturday came and James was up before his parents. He had his own home not too far away but since the wedding was going to be at his parents manor he spent the night in his old room. He wasn't allowed to leave his room but Ren had already brought him some food and tea. Ren loved coming back to his parents house and getting to visit with their own house elf, Tufty. James paced for the first hour, barely drinking his tea. Then he noticed figures moving around outside his window. James’s bedroom faced out to the back yard. Several wizards were working together to put everything together. James saw where he was going to stand and the long white cloth Regulus would walk down.

He was nearly vibrating with excitement.

Finally his parents came into his room, they wished him luck and said they would see him during the ceremony. A final kiss and hug goodbye before his father handed him a gift before leaving. They didn't even watch him open it.

Remus, Peter, and a Beta woman came in next. The Beta was apparently his stylist and was there to make sure he looked his best. James sat at the vanity and let her do whatever she thought was necessary, which happened to be a lot and made James feel a little self conscious. Peter and Remus sat on his bed as they talked excitedly. They both were already dressed in their finest robes.

Peter shifted and the gift from James’s father slid closer to him. “Oi! What's this?” He asked.

James poked his head out from behind the privacy screen, “Oh a gift from my dad. I havent opened it yet.”

“Well lets see then!” Peter said as he tossed him the package. James caught it easily and brought it with him back behind the screen.

Carefully pulling the ribbon and wrapping away James saw that it was a cloak. A rather ancient cloak, made of a fine watery material, silky and silver.

He thanked the Beta woman before stepping out to show his friends all her hard work. They cheered and wolf whistled which made her blush as she left.

“What is that?” Remus asked, eyeing the cloak suspiciously.

“I think it's a cloak… Im not sure if I am meant to wear it or…” He trailed off as he slipped the fabric over his shoulders. The effect was immediate and he could no longer see his body.

“JAMES!” Peter screamed.

Remus’s eyes were wide, “Mate.”

“I'm invisible.” James breathed. A card fluttered to the ground and James scooped it up.

‘Novissima autem inimica destruetur mors’

"The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.” He read out loud.

“Your father had an invisibility cloak this whole time! And he never told you?” Peter gasped.

James suddenly had a very stupid but brilliant idea.

[]

It wasn't hard to find his Omegas scent. He followed it to the west wing and waited for someone to open the door before slipping inside. The room was in chaos, like an active hurricane of Omegas and Betas running around. Clothes everywhere, bags tossed haphazardly onto any surface. In the center of it all sat his Omega. They were quiet, merely watching with distant eyes as everything happened around them.

He carefully moved across the room and stood just behind the vanity. His Omega was already dressed and he noticed a soft amount of makeup applied to his face just like James’s.

James didn't even know if he would get a chance to be alone with Regulus. His parents explained the traditional aspects that the Blacks wanted in the wedding. One of which was not seeing each other until the actual ceremony. James couldn't help himself. Plus if he could get the Omega alone he wanted to be sure that they were alright. He wanted to make sure that they knew what was going to happen… at the end.

With only a handful of minutes before the wedding was to begin James was starting to plan his exit strategy when a very tall, very stern, woman entered the room. She stood for a moment and everyone paused what they were doing. One lift of her chin and everyone filed out.

The woman stalked over to Regulus, grabbing his shoulder with a claw-like hand and bent low to his ear. If James had not been standing right there he would have missed what she hissed in Regulus’s ear. “I will give you a moment but you will NOT mess this up.”

Regulus nodded once, staring straight ahead into the mirror. She snatched her hand away and left.

James moved out from behind the mirror and stood just off to the side. His Omega took a shaky breath and tilted their head up before pushing their pointer fingers just under their eyes for a moment.

James felt his heart clench, he wanted to comfort his Omega. Carefully he slid the fabric away, “Don't scream.” He whispered and knelt down on the floor beside Regulus’s chair.

[]

To say Regulus was startled was an understatement. He knew he wasn't so self absorbed in this moment to not notice the very large Alpha that was now standing beside him.

Tall, dark, and broad. He was a near identical copy of his father in looks. A soft gasp escaped his lips.

The Alpha dropped to his knees and put a warm hand on his wrist, “Don't scream.” He said. His voice was rough and deep. Regulus felt a tremor go through his whole body. The scent hit him then, cinnamon oranges. ‘On Christmas’ his brain purred.

“Hi.” The Alpha smiled at him and Regulus felt like his whole world suddenly had color. Like he had lived in the dark for so long and now the sun was finally shining on him.

He is so glad the Alpha wasn't towering over him. “Hi.” He squeeked.

“I’m James. I know we aren't supposed to” He gave Regulus a small sheepish smile and gestured between them. “But I couldn't wait.” He smiled again, somehow brighter than before.

Regulus could only nod, he found his eyes glued to James’s. Staring into the warm honey like brown. He should look away, he should look down, he was being so disrespectful right now. It took all his strength but he finally dropped his gaze. He watched as a large hand moved up towards his jaw. He clenched his teeth and braced.

James felt his heart sink when Regulus looked away, he reached forward and tilted his face back up. “You are so beautiful.”

If Regulus was flustered before this was enough to take the air from his lungs entirely. His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak but there was a shout from the hallway and people were coming.

James’s head whipped to the side and he quickly stood and pulled the cloak over his shoulders. Turning back to his Omega he bent down to face them again.

“I have to bite you, after we kiss. I need to know, do you want me to spend your heat with you? Or do you want to wait?”

Regulus was unable to respond, he looked fearfully at the door again. He stood so quickly the bench he was sitting on would have toppled over if the Alpha had not caught it.

James took his hand and kissed his knuckles, “Think about it and give me your answer at the altar!” And then he was gone. Vanished before Regulus’s very eyes.

[]

The Alphas words rang in his head on repeat.

Do you want me to spend your heat with you?

I need to know.

I need to know, do you want me…

Do you want me….

Do you…

The piano playing softly in the background suddenly picked up. He felt a pinch in his side as his parents hooked elbows with him. He fixed his face with a soft smile and walked down the aisle.

The Alpha at the end was practically vibrating with excitement.

Regulus swallowed back the bile rising up in his throat. He should be happy. This was a happy day. His eyes met Fleamont’s in the front row, he gave Regulus such a warm smile and his eyes were misty.

Regulus still couldn't get the horrible feeling of dread to leave his body. Something terrible was going to happen, he could feel it. He hated the waiting, he was sitting on the edge waiting to be pulled back or pushed off.

The Alpha took his hands and gave them a soft squeeze. His parents went to sit across the aisle from the Potter’s and a tiny Beta man started speaking.

Regulus couldn't tell you what happened after that. He was lost in looking at the Alpha before him. All that time spent outside had given him a healthy glow. His hair stood up in several directions and Regulus thinks it looked more put together when the Alpha came to visit him. Now it looked like he had run his fingers through it several times. Even untidy he still looked so handsome. His eyes were warm and he already had deep laughing lines in the corners and along his mouth. Regulus could tell he was someone who laughed easily and often.

Regulus was very grateful that he wasn't expected to write his own vows for this ceremony. He doubted he would remember even how to speak let alone a whole speech. His focus was glued to the Alpha.

Regulus made up his mind then, he would try.

He would try and make this new life happy and work for him. If his Alpha was willing to face his mothers wrath and see him just to ask him if he was comfortable sharing his heat together then he must be a good guy.

His attention was called back when the Alpha pressed something cold into his hand. He looked down, it was a small dagger. His hand shook slightly as he just stared at it. The Alpha ducked down to meet his eyes. Guiding him to look up with just his eyes. Regulus didn't look away as James took his hand and guided him through the process of cutting his palm. He then took the knife, “Deep breath.” He whispered before slicing into Regulus’s palm. The pain brought him back to reality. The blood rushing in his ears stopped and the sound of someone talking finally reached his ears.

James pressed their bloody hands together as a white cloth was wrapped around binding them together.

“You may now kiss.”

James looked from his eyes to his lips and back again. He must have seen something in Regulus’s expression because he hesitated for just a moment. Regulus took a step closer and the pure joy on the Alphas face warmed him to his core.

Regulus’s first kiss was with James Potter.

It was chaste and short but then James was nosing along his neck. His tongue darted out licking over Regulus’s mating gland. Regulus felt weak in his knees but the Alpha was holding him so close he wouldn't fall. He licked him again and Regulus realized he was waiting for an answer.

“Yes.” Regulus whispered against his ear.

Regulus always thought the bite would hurt but in fact it sent so much oxytocin to his brain it was floating. The sharp bite of teeth didn't even register to Regulus.

He was aware of the Alpha picking him up. He was aware of the feeling of blood dripping down his neck. He was aware of the burning heat coursing through him. And he was aware of them disapparating shortly after.

[]

This new place smelled heavily of the Alpha and Regulus knew he must be in their house now. Somewhere, out of the hazy heat clouding his brain, he wonders how far away they live from their parents. A sharp cramp hits him and he curls in on the Alpha.

“Almost there, sorry, hold on darling. I've got you.” James is rambling quickly as he carries his Omega to the bed. Laying him down he tries to move back but his Omega is gripping tightly to his shirt.

Regulus makes a pathetic whine in the back of his throat.

James rubs soothing circles into his shoulders. “Hey love, I have to step away and take our clothes off okay?” Regulus takes a moment to register what James is saying and suddenly snatches his hands away.

James lets out a soft chuckle, “It's okay. I know.” He shucks his jacket off and throws it on a chair in the corner before moving to unbutton his shirt.

Regulus is panting at this point, his heat almost fully taking over his body and soon his mind. A whine escapes him again and he clamps his mouth shut. James turns to him, half his buttons undone, and touches his cheek. “It's okay love. What do you need? Anything. This is about you.”

Regulus flinches back like he has been struck. He doesn't know yet if this Alpha is just all talk. He hasn't figured out what will go wrong yet and he isn't sure of what he wants right now.

Lifting his chin, Regulus decides to test the waters, “Whatever you want, Alpha.”

James tilts his head in confusion, his scent shifts for a moment before he shakes his head and kneels down beside the bed. Elbows propped on the mattress he reaches out slowly, looking between Regulus’s face and his feet that are within reach.

Carefully he takes Regulus’s foot in his hands. A rough callused palm slides over his ankle and Regulus stiffens. The Alphas fingers hook on the back of his shoe and slide it off. His eyes never leave Regulus as he sets the shoe down beside him. Then the next one, then his socks come off next.

James presses a skilled thumb into the arch of Regulus’s foot. Regulus is still sitting stock still, his spine rigid, hands in fists beside him. Regulus is the first to look away as he watches James’s hands work over the sore pads of his feet.

He takes his time and can't help the little tick in the corner of his mouth as Regulus slowly, so slowly, starts to relax. He doesn't speak until he is working on the second foot.

“Have you spent your heats with anyone before?” James asks. He keeps his tone casual, it doesn't matter to him what the answer is but it will help to know if his Omega even knows what to expect. He has a sneaky suspicion that Regulus is a virgin.

Regulus’s face hardens, he shouldn't be difficult he should just answer the Alpha. But he has to know, if he can push enough to find where his boundaries are then at least he knows where he stands with the Alpha. At least then he will know how little freedom he has. “And what if I have?” He puts as much of a sneer in his words as he can. His stupid brain is turning to mush and soon he will be a whimpering mess on the bed like always. Buried beneath the covers clutching his middle as wave after wave of pain washes over him.

James smirks, “Then you would know what you want, little Omega.”

Regulus snaps his eyes back to the Alphas face. James isn't looking at him anymore, he is focused on his work. He starts moving up from Regulus’s foot to his calf, pushing the fabric of his trousers out of the way.

“It’s alright if you have, I was just curious. What do you usually like during your heats?” James has moved over to his other leg now and the way his hands work over Regulus’s sore muscles is messing with his mind.

“I.. I..” Regulus stutters but then has to clamp his mouth shut to stop a moan from slipping from his lips.

James is patient and moves back and forth between Regulus’s lower legs and feet. If he waited long enough maybe the heat would make him more talkative.

Regulus relaxes even more into the Alpha's touch. He lets his eyes drift closed and tries to think through the haze in his mind. “I don't … I’ve never.. I can't.” He whines, his head rolling back. Fuck. The Alpha's touch is so warm, each squeeze to his muscles makes him want to melt into the mattress.

The Alpha lets out a please rumble in his chest. “I hope you don't mind that I have.”

Regulus rocks his head back forward and raises an eyebrow.

“Spent a heat with someone.” James clarifies, he meets Regulus’s eyes and doesn't look away as he tells him. Regulus isn't prepared for the punch to the gut feeling the Alphas words have on him. He can't shove down the snarl that rips from his chest and suddenly he is on his feet.

James falls back on his butt and looks up at the agitated Omega. Regulus’s eyes widen, he quickly drops to his knees and shuffles closer to the Alpha. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn't mean to. It will never happen again. I swear. I swear. I swear.” He is choking on his words. Tears are prickling from his eyes and he tries to shove them back with one hand as he reaches out to touch the Alpha with his other.

James is more confused than anything else right now. The sudden changes to his Omegas emotions and scent have his head spinning. What happened? How has he messed this up already?

James rolls back onto his knees and kneels down closer to his Omega. Regulus flinches back and raises one hand over his face. Something deep inside of James cracks, what happened to his darling Omega.

“Can I help you up?” He asks, frozen in place, half kneeling down closer to his Omega.

Regulus’s chest is rising and falling rapidly. The scent of stressed Alpha hits his nose and he nods frantically hoping it will make the Alpha happy.

James scoops him up into his arms and holds him close to his chest. Regulus’s face is pressed into James’s neck. He opens his mouth to take in more of the Alphas scent. The burst of energy took so much out of him and now he slumps in James’s arms.

James lays him on the bed but when he goes to pull away Regulus grips tighter to his shirt and pulls him down next to him.

They lay like that tangled in each other's arms, Regulus has his nose firmly pressed against James’s neck, breathing deeply.

“Well someone should know what they're doing.” Regulus finally murmurs. James pulls back to look at him and a smile crackles across his face. He laughs with his whole body shaking Regulus with him.

James brushes the tears from his eyes and settles back with Regulus. “You are going to keep me on my toes aren't you.” He huffs another laugh and runs his fingers through Regulus’s curls.

Regulus purrs at the touch. He stills, waiting for the Alphas reaction.

“Oh you like that?” James says kissing his forehead before scratching at Regulus’s scalp just right. Regulus let his eyes close as another wave of his heat hit him and he curled closer to James.

[]

Regulus woke some time later, his body was on fire.

He let out a pathetic whimper as he started pushing his clothes off. He needed to get everything off and wrap up in his blanket on his bed before it got so painful he couldn't move.

He had just thrown his shirt and went to climb off the bed to get rid of his trousers when a hand circled around his wrist. His brain caught up quickly though and he remembered the Alpha in the bed with him.

“Regulus?” James muttered sleepily. “Is it starting?” He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and reached for his glasses on the bedside table. Regulus could only let out whine as he stood and took everything else off.

James’s eyebrows disappeared into his hair as his eyes raked disrespectfully over the nude Omega. He gulped in some air and then immediately wished he hadn’t. His Omega smelled amazing, his mouth watered, and there was only one thing on his mind. Mate.

He quickly finished unbuttoning his shirt and shedding it off onto the floor. He started pulling his trousers off but his Omega tackles him down onto the bed with an ‘ Oof ’.

“Alpha. Alpha. Alpha .” Regulus moans as he mouths against Jame’s neck. James’s hands are shaking but he places them firmly on his Omegas hips pulling him in closer.

James licks over the mating mark making Regulus tremble in his hands. Regulus moans as more slick gushes from him and he grinds his hard length against James’s thigh.

“Off. Off!” Regulus growls and James has never heard an Omega so aggressive while in heat. Usually they get needy, whiney, or clingy but Regulus is shoving him off the bed now.

Bewildered he stands, glasses askew on his face and trousers falling down to the floor his pants tented in the front.

Regulus glared at him, his eyes flicking down to James’s erection and then back up to his face. James followed his look and then quickly pushed his pants down and kicked them off to the side. Regulus let out a soft purr and laid back against the pillows nuzzling against them to get more of the Alphas scent.

James carefully rested a knee on the bed causing Regulus’s head to snap back to him. James notes the golden rings that encircle his soft gray eyes and inches forward. Regulus tracks his movements closely but doesn't move any closer.

“Can I?” James asks as his hand hovers just over Regulus’s hip.

Regulus’s eyes flick down to his hand and then back up. James groans when Regulus licks over his lower lip. The faintest nod causes the Alpha to rush forward and cover his Omega with his body. This close they are sharing air. James searches his face, Regulus isn't sure what he is looking for but he must have found it as the Alpha kisses him stupid.

His tongue slipping past his lips without warning and licking into his mouth. Regulus moans and claws at James’s back, trying to pull the Alpha deeper into his body.

James kisses down along his jaw getting lower and lower. Regulus whines at the lack of James pressing into him. The whine pitches high as James takes his full length into his mouth. Regulus’s hips buck into James’s hot wet mouth.

“What are you doing!” Regulus cries, his head thrashing against the pillow.

James lets go with a pop and wipes his mouth with his thumb. “Gotta make you nice and relaxed, love.” He licked the underside of Regulus’s cock making him keen.

“But.. But…” Regulus sputters. “You're an Alpha!”

James raised an eyebrow and pushed himself up on his knees. “Yea, what is that supposed to mean?”

Regulus scoffs, “You aren't supposed to …” He gestured down to his crotch and then to James.

Jame smirks, “Darling, I’ll suck you off everyday if you keep making those pretty noises for me.” And then he winks!

Winks!

Regulus feels the hot flush across his face and chest and James loves the beautiful pink color.

James lowers himself back down his eyes never leaving Regulus’s. “Can I?”

Regulus knows it's wrong. Alphas take. He heard enough stories between other Omegas. They pinned their Omega down and took their pleasure before leaving them. Alphas only thought with their knot. They didn't … they didn't massage their Omegas feet and then … do that!

Rational Regulus and heat Regulus were fighting in his head and he realized he was taking a particularly long time to respond.

He meant to say yes, or sure, something not completely out of his mind. What comes out is a breathy “ please .”

James is more than happy to oblige. Take Regulus in his mouth again inch by inch he sinks down. Regulus thinks this is the best feeling in the world and then James starts to bob his head in earnest and Regulus feels the need to cover his mouth with his hand.

James pulled off again with a soft growl. Regulus lowered his hand slowly and clutched the sheets.

“It's just here, I want to hear you.” James said before taking Regulus into the back of his throat.

Regulus felt the urge to close his eyes but he didn't want to miss a second. When the Alpha brought his hand into the mix he almost came.

“Wait - I’m g-going to cum!” He whined and pushed on the Alphas head. James pinned his wrists down and doubled his efforts making Regulus spill down his throat.

James keeps licking and sucking softly at the softening cock making Regulus twitch with pleasure before releasing him.

“Fuck.” regulus groans.

James huffs a laugh and rolls onto his back dragging Regulus’s leg with him hugging around his thigh.

“ ‘I’m going to cum’? Love, that's the whole point of this. You're my Omega. I'm going to make you cum as many times as possible. I want you to be like putty in my hands.” He said and squeezed Regulus’s thigh in emphasis.

Regulus lay there relishing in the post orgasmic haze that pushed out all the pain. Or so he thought. The heat and pain started coming back, not as strong as before, but still painful. He tried not to jostle the Alpha as he squirmed against the too warm sheets.

“You good to go again?” The Alpha asked and Regulus wanted to respond with words. He wanted to say ‘yes’ but all he could manage was another whine. Goddess he was needy.

James crawled back over Regulus and kissed him again. “I’m going to use my fingers this time. Okay love?”

Regulus nods frantically, “ Want you knot.”

He doesn't even recognise the voice that just came out of him but James seems to react very well to it.

“Oh fuck baby.” James lifts Regulu’s leg and hooks it over his shoulder. He taps the other leg and Regulus lifts it himself over James’s other shoulder. “That's it baby. Fuck. ‘m going to fill you up so good. You're going to take my knot so well love.” James is babbling at this point as he mouths along Regulus’s thighs over every inch he can reach. One finger circles Regulus’s entrance, James waits until the tension seeps out of Regulus before pressing his finger in.

“Mmm , taking me so well. My beautiful Omega. Look at you.” James sucked in a breath as he pushed in another finger.

Regulus is panting heavily now. It is so much and not enough at the same time. He was always told he could never ‘service’ himself, he had to wait for his Alpha. ‘Alphas want tight holes’ was snarled at him almost every heat.

“Alpha. Alpha. More. Mo-please. Please more. Need you.” Regulus huffs in between breaths. James takes his Omegas cock in his mouth again as he pushes a third finger in. He gets a fourth one just as Regulus arched up as he came.

His refractory period was getting longer. Longer moments where the pain was completely gone and all he felt with the pleasure the Alpha brought him.

James made him cum two more times with his mouth and fingers before deciding he was wet and loose enough to take his knot.

Licking once more to savor the taste of Regulus’s slick James pulls him closer.

“Ready?” He asks, his voice is still calm and comforting. He is in no rush and waits for his Omega to answer him when he is ready.

“Yes.” Regulus moans. He is so proud he was able to actually make a coherent remark of consent this time. “Please.” He moans again and lifts his hips just so.

James smiles and pins the Omega down with one hand on his hip. “Easy love, don't want to hurt you.” Regulus isn't sure how James could possibly hurt him when he has made him feel so good and that thought jars him out of the haze for a moment. He can't get too comfortable. He shivers as the realization comes over him that yes . James could make him feel good one moment and then hurt him in the very next. He tenses at these thoughts and James stops to run his hands over Regulus calming him.

He sinks back into the bed and breaths through his nose. James presses the head in and Regulus sees stars. Giving himself a moment to close his eyes and enjoy the lightning strikes of pleasure coursing through him now.

Bottoming out, James enjoyed the warmth of their thighs pressed together now. He pauses, fully sheathed, and rubs his hands up and down his Omegas flank.

“So beautiful. My perfect Omega. Such a pretty Omega. You want my knot? Mmmm my love wants me to fuck them stupid on my knot.” James is chatty. He is so close he is trying to bring his Omega closer to the edge with him because he won't be able to hold back much longer.

“Alpha. More .”

James smiles and leans down to kiss his husband. The motion drags his cock out slightly before pressing back in as he straightens up. One testing pull out has Regulus hissing in pleasure. James thrusts back in a little faster causing Regulus to moan. He worked up his speed slowly trying to hold his knot back. His Omega is so soft, so hot, so tight around him and the Alpha in him is screaming KNOT. KNOT. KNOT.

“Going to knot you. Fill you up over and over. Gunna be so full of my pups.” Regulus whines at James' words and thrusts his hips in rhythm with him.

“You want that love? Want to be full of my pups. I’ll take such good care of you.” James nips at the bite mark on Regulus’s neck.

His knot starts to catch, causing Regulus to buck up hard, throwing them both off.

“Good Omega. Gunna cum for me? You're gunna bite me.” Regulus’s eyes are rolling back in his head. He is so close. He hears the Alpha talking but doesn't fully understand what he is saying. “Regulus!” He growls and the knot catches on his rim locking them back in place.

James exposes his neck, “Bite me.”

Regulus is high off this knot. The Alpha is asking him to do something. He smells the Alpha so close. He wants to bite. The voice in the back of his head taunts ‘ Omegas don't mark their Alphas!’

But he is biting. He is biting and the metallic iron taste of blood floods his mouth. His fangs sink deeper and he can taste nothing but Alpha .

#imagine #fanfic #writing #fandom #harry potter #smut #jegulus #james potter #alpha james potter #regulus black #james potter x regulus black #omega regulus black

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kavalyera · 10 months ago

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You said to send in an ask, so I'm doing so.

Who is the high table?

What does it want?

Does it like potatoes?

(All very serious questions, yes yes 😔)

(Dw about spoilering it for me. I actually quite like spoilers usually)

(Still not gonna spoil much, but there will be light spoilers)

So basically the High Table is a council of twelve of the most powerful criminal mafias/syndicates. For example; the Camorra. Right now, only the Camorra is a confirmed member of the Table.

The High Table is much more than just twelve mysterious people. Basically they have a representative from each criminal group (Example being Gianna D’Antonio for the Camorra from John Wick Chapter 2 which you should REALLY watch since it greatly expands upon the world.)

^ Adding onto that, the High Table is a sort of broad term to encompass emissaries. I like to call the much bigger term the circle of the High Table when it includes Autem Imperators, Harbingers, Adjudicators, and the Operators/Administration.

What does the High Table want? Well, on the surface, they hold order in the world of John Wick. Either through brute force or in a more professional manner. But, in reality, the members want power over their domains. The want for power is one of the biggest motivators for the main villains of JW2 and JW4 (both of which you will HATE greatly)

And for the last question, three of the High Table seats are Italian so like. Maybe. But they definitely would like garlic

Idk what else to add so have Caine (Played by legendary Donnie Yen) from John Wick Chapter 4

#john wick #wickblr #caine jw #the high table #written for someone who hasnt watched the other three movies #theseus get to work/j

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autemtoday · 5 months ago

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The Beast From out The Wilderness

Bennie Castle

AUTEM PUBLICATIONS 2024 © PUBLICATION #002

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

His own breath was the last of his worries now-

Slamming his back against the coldest slab of limestone he'd ever come across, brisk to the touch upon both his lungs and with both hands over his heart, then his mouth, he kneeled before the open skies with horrendous sobs. He placed his two hands against the earth with blades of grass between his fingers and wrenched them out.

Tears ran down his face for quite some time before he spoke and when he did, his first words were offered to God. But what good are words to him who needs no such thing? To Him who’s beyond speech and thought? To Him who knows, indefinitely? The exile’s cries were worrisome, enough to teach ravaging wolves the meaning of, "sympathy" and “compassion," but to him, (the Beast, at least) what was the difference between wildlife and city folk? ‘The bounty upon my head would be quintuple if anyone found me out,’ he thought to himself, and In his isolation, he began to pray again but this time in front of a sycamore tree. From a distance, bushes rattle as he stands quickly from his kneeling position and tries to make out what caused the irritable sound of leaves. With one movement he drew his sword and asked, 'Who goes there?’ He was more than glad to be out with sword and sheath on this night, yet there was no reply but from the winds itself. The weight of his sheath gave him leverage, he felt like an injured giant, fleeing from insignificant men and their society and its fire on a stake. He shouts, stating, that if it be a man then he should come out so, rather than die like a coward, or worse, a bleeding dog. Still, the exile received no reply. His thoughts raced quicker than any stroke of lightning imaginable… This was the first time in his entire life he'd held a sword nevertheless one to threaten another with but tonight was different… for tonight his life was in the hands of other men or the clutches of the wilderness- he just so happened to accept the ladder. He drew closer from the opposite side of the bushes, inching towards the resonance of where it was heard, welding the blade and standing his ground, yelling, “Halt! Who goes there?! And be quick, before I cut your life short…!! I beg it be someone else and not you, Zacchaeus..” the sword is thrust into the scene of night, and at once he’s kicked on the lower thigh and thrown to the ground, with his right hand losing grasp of the sword. "You know the rules playboy, you can't murder anybody,” says the figure, disappearing quicker than it had initially appeared. The exile turned around to see its face - nothing. He moved with haste, inevitably, tripping over himself to then scamper across gravel, shouting “PLEASE, NO! DON’T KILL ME, SHOW MERCY!” and the figure says, “That was never my intention… it’s just… the sword and well…” the shadow laughed, alone. The exile stares into the void of the wilderness, attempting to make out the other man’s figure, for by now he was sure it was a man.

“Who are you?” He says, before finishing his sentence. The figure flashed his pearly white teeth from the shadows, showing no attempt to make himself known. “It’s me… from before, remember? You were out here for over a month… hungry and starved, ranting about your God, like a lunatic. Hey… where’s your friend?” The shadow rears a finger up to the trees and points at a bee’s nest with only a glint of light from what one would presume to be one of his nails, “..the one with his ‘honey’ and ‘locusts’?” The exile laughed hysterically, eyes full of rage and sarcasm but the apparition only smiled, showing his perfect set of teeth. “I'm Serious, where is he? Last we spoke he seemed to be such a riot and now…” The exile stared back at the apparition with eyes of fury and replied in a well-mannered tone about what had happened to him and his friends. The apparition made no sign of movement and the man showed the facial expression of a bewildered caveman. He spoke not nor did he move, instead he looked directly at the exile while cloaked in night and darkness. The man asked the apparition to answer his questions now that they were acquainted. The apparition said, " I am the shadow of everything evil and the cast of darkness by anything of that nature and nothing escapes me once it has tasted death. I am sweet vengeance and her fruits well enjoyed… I am THAT which is not…” crackling again and grinning from ear to ear, casting fear and horror upon the exile.

The sound of leaves and branches from a few yards behind the apparition might have well been the stomping of a rhino to the exile. His heart melts and evaporates from his exhaustion and fear of the unknown hidden within his surroundings.

The exile was in no shape or form ready to jeopardize his life to a worse degree and so he scurried into the thick of thorns and bushes from whence the original voice emanated from and instinctively, climbed up the sycamore tree.

His hands, punctured and dry as Summer’s desert sand, were no longer real to him in the sense that they were a part of them as any inanimate limb would be to an amputee. They were merely tools now, things he used to save himself like a cane helps the lame or a pair of glasses worn by the blind. A figure emerged from the opposite side of the outskirts, carrying a well-lit torch and sword, along with two men wielding shields, protecting their ‘beacon’. The exile, spine-chilled and traumatized, held his breath until he could no longer then covered his nostril and mouth with cloth. The men were Roman guards, thought the exile to himself, pupils dilated and fear seeping from his eyes once he noticed the emblem and color coding on their shields. The man with the torch had fury and fire in his eyes, yelling, “Make sure there are NO escapees, the man we seek is to be brought before Pontius in one piece, be SURE you’ve heard me well!” His opposite hand, which held something had now dropped it, an ear. The smell of dry blood reached the exile’s nostrils, making his heart rate stand still. He knew one mistake would cost him his life for they were Roman soldiers, not amateurs. The dark blots of blood on the floor were now glowing in the exile’s eyes, the fear of losing life, the only thing he had left now, (besides his sword and its sheath) ....

((To be continued....))

#scifi #writers on tumblr #creative writing #writeblr #writers #writing #writers and poets #writerscommunity #sci fi #scifiart #sci fi and fantasy #theology

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conduit-of-grace · 1 year ago

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“‘Jesus remains silent.’ - ‘Iesus autem tacebat.’ Why do you speak, to console yourself or to explain yourself?

Say nothing. Seek joy in contempt: you’ll always receive less than you deserve. Can you, by any chance, ask: ‘Quid enim mali feci?’ - ‘What evil have I done?’”

- St. Josemaria Escriva, “Joy” from The Way, #671

#Catholic #Christian #St. Josemaria Escriva #The Way #quotes

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marquisedegramont · 11 months ago

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Hiiiiii! Okay, so you asked me about hoplesslydevoted but I want to hear your version. How'd they meet? Who caught feelings first? What makes them such a good match? That kind of thing. Thank you for writing! 💖

(Also if people send me enough asks and prompts about these two, I'll make a masterlist like I did for John and Santino. I could see myself writing a lot more about them. No pressure tho!)

YAYYYY HOPELESSLYDEVOTED :3 all of these are headcanons ^_^ ackkk sorry for the late response i had to make sure all my thoughts were coherent </3

How did they meet?

Before Vincent was Autem Imperator he was an associate of the Table, particularly under Gianna/The Camorra. He was close to Gianna specifically and being an associate of the Table meant also being a target due to you know, association. So you know, Gianna got him a bodyguard which was Chidi who previously worked under her! Yayy Gianna out favorite wingwoman ^_^. Admittedly, Vincent didn’t like the idea of a bodyguard because he was still pretty immature in his college years and well, he felt like Gianna was a little too concerned over him which Vincent didn’t like. But still, Vincent was a social butterfly and confided a lot in Chidi and always talked to him since Chidi was practically almost always there for him. I’ve always thought of them as the yapper + listener duo and it’s honestly canon. Chidi did talk, but most of the time he lets Vincent talk and he just listens.

Who caught feelings first?

I always thought it’d be funny to headcanon Chidi as a dense guy, like he’s just doing his job while Vincent is banging on the walls and kicking the air every night in his bedroom cringing at the fact his flirting seemed to go over Chidi’s head. But you know, the universe still makes it’s way!! It took a lot of time for Vincent to actually get over his own ego from not being asked out and he made his feelings be known to Chidi. Although it did take time for Chidi to fully grasp the fact Vincent liked him in another way that wasn’t just being appreciative. And then Chidi started catching feelings and it was like Vincent started to see clarity. And then they started to FU-

What makes them such a good match?

Introvert + extrovert, listener + talker, undying loyalty and devotion that borderlines worship, and they’re both evil. They’re both cocky, and arrogant, and they’re fucking great at it!!

Other stuff ( Headcanons / sfw + nsfw for fun )

- Vincent has a cat named Lacey that likes to torment Chidi

- ^ It’s okay, she’s their daughter

- Most of the time, Chidi has to talk Vincent out of doing impulsive stuff</3

- And other times Vincent talks for Chidi!

- When Vincent goes to his other estates, he will specifically tell the housekeepers not to give Chidi a room because he wants him close. By that I mean, he wants Chidi in his bed only

- Chidi knows how to cook, Vincent knows how to bake. Unfortunately all Vincent does in the kitchen is sit there and look pretty

- Vincent gets easily jealous whenever Chidi talks to someone else in a positive tone

- Vincent insists on doing Chidi’s tie for him, and they end up having the same knots

Sexy time ^_^

- They’re constantly switching roles but Vincent is a power bottom most of the time because he likes to be of service to his exhausted bodyguard

- Vincent likes being manhandled, who wouldn’t

- Both are possessive of each other!!

- ^ They like to leave marks on each other, mostly Vincent who likes to put scratches on Chidi

- They’re both freaks. They both get hard at the thought of each other with blood on, or stabbing someone

- Chidi goes feral when Vincent refers to him as his

- Vincent has a fascination with pain and likes either administering it or taking it

- ^ He chokes Chidi sometimes (his weak ass can’t really do much)

- Vincent is loud, and the housekeepers in his estate have to just walk past that room (crack fic idea perchance)

- Chidi can manhandle Vincent easily

- ^ Vincent likes it ofc ofc

#hopelesslydevoted #marquis de gramont #marquis vincent de gramont #vincent de gramont #chidi jw #.evren answers #wickblr

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tobytheeggo · 1 year ago

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im gonna force every answer out of you!! :3 3 & 25 on the character ask game for vinny ? :P

3. Least favorite canon thing about this character?

I wanna say the lack of self reliance? For someone with title of Marquis and Autem Imperator, I’d expect some kind of motivation to do things yourself and take down the parasite in your paradise (I’m so poetic guys).

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

Gay. Like genuinely, first time I saw him in theaters I said to myself “that man does not kiss girls..”

Now however, nothings changed honestly, just queer and completely derailed from his own existence (there’s obviously more to this I just suck typing words 😭)

#marquis de gramont #vincent de gramont #ask game #ask box

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autemka · 6 months ago

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I'm pretty curious to know, since they are half kitties, how would they react to....

*throws some catnip*

THIS!? 7w7

Well… no is the question how I’m gonna bring them to the sense back XD

#Autem ask #inbox asks #ask Autem #sketch #catmatronic au #dca cats #dca cat #catmatronics #cat.sun #cat.moon #cat.eclipse

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ask-lovebug-chosen · 1 year ago

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At least Mango has humour, Dark xD

“Dark. Please. Your temper.”

#love letters! [asks]#👑 [mango]#🧬 [dark]#filia autem draconis

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anglosaxonpersonalnames · 23 days ago

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Cenlaf

Cenlaf is an Anglo-Saxon masculine name composed of cen (keen) and laf (legacy).

Variants:

Keonoluf [William Thomas 1736 A Survey of the Cathedral-church of Worcester, page 36].

Kenolaf [Paul Piper 1884 Libri Confraternitatum Sancti Galli, Augiensis, Fabariensis, page 100].

Keonolaf [Paul Piper 1884 Libri Confraternitatum Sancti Galli, Augiensis, Fabariensis, page 137].

Cénláf [Oswin Kinsey 2016 English Compound Names, 2nd edition, page 73].

Cenlaf [Keith Briggs 2021 An index to personal names in English place-names, 1st edition, page 79].

Prototheme:

Cen = Keen, fierce, bold, warlike [Joseph Bosworth 1838 A Dictionary of the Anglo-Saxon Language, 1st edition, page 75].

Deuterotheme:

laf = a relic, legacy [Benjamin Thorpe 1845 A History of England under the Saxon Kings 1: 281].

Usage:

A man called Keonolaf is recorded from the reign of King Æthestan II: “Hec sunt autem nomina que conscribi rogavit: Rex Anglorum Adalstean. Keonowald episcopus. Wighart. Kenvun. Conrat. Keonolaf. Wundrud. Keondrud” (“However, these are the names he asked to be enrolled: the King of the English Adalstean, Keonowald Bishop. Wighart. Kenvun. Conrat. Keonolaf. Wundrud. Keondrud”) [Angela Smith 2014 King Æthelstan in the English, Continental and Scandinavian Traditions of the Tenth to the Thirteenth Centuries, page 216].

#Cenlaf

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thewhumpcaretaker · 1 year ago

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⚜ 𝓑𝓮𝔂𝓸𝓷𝓭 𝓙𝓾𝓭𝓰𝓮𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽 - 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒳𝐼: 𝐵𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝒫𝓁𝒶𝓃𝓈 ⚜

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ ✧.*★ Thank you again to @evren-sadwrn for the beta read!

TW: crying, panic attack, discussions of guilt, mentions of prior sex scene

Summary: The possibility of seeing Vincent reinstated to the High Table forces John to think about what he's been doing. What does it mean to be falling for someone as violent as the Marquis de Gramont?

It was difficult to think of Vincent as dangerous, perched on a log with his feet swinging just above the leaves, with Dog upside down in his lap to get belly rubs. They’d just cleaned him up and changed his bandages, which was tough without the use of a sink. But it definitely had to be done. Sitting across from him with his shirt still unbuttoned, John struggled to reconcile that image with two others: Vincent writhing in ecstasy on top of him, and Vincent delighting in cruelty as he aimed a gun at his head in front of the Basilica.

What did I just do?

This was the exact thought John had been trying to avoid when he turned down the Marquis’ proposition in the motel. Saving his life was one thing – that was just the humane thing to do. Sympathizing with him, trying to put him in a good enough mood to not have a mental breakdown - that was common decency. Fucking him raw on a boulder? Well. That was a little harder to explain to himself.

And falling for him…he wasn’t even ready to think about that part.

He hadn’t thought about any of this, hadn’t invited it. Hadn’t even considered dating after Helen. And for it to be the Marquis de Gramont, former Autem Imperator of the High Table… There was a good reason he wasn’t thinking too much about everything the Marquis had done. Some of those acts were truly atrocious. Charon, the massacre at Osaka…Koji. Would he kill that way again? Did he feel one ounce of remorse for any of it?

“Daydreaming, John?” The Marquis was grinning at him, and the dissonance between that image and his thoughts made him feel a little sick.

John shook himself. “Sorry.” He looked away to the paper cups piled around Vincent, crushed flat and used as vessels for Vincent’s scribbling during his drug fueled hyperactivity the night before. John had gathered them up before leaving, in case any contained some coherent idea, and Vincent had been reviewing them as the sun climbed higher and higher in a crystalline blue sky. “Find anything?”

“Maybe. I was…hmm. Let’s just say some of these sounded better at the time.” He squinted quizzically at one that John couldn’t make out clearly from a distance, but he could see that it included several repeats of the word “kill.”

“There is one…” he continued. “It’s bold. But the present circumstances call for boldness. And when was anything truly great accomplished without it?”

John waited expectantly for him to name this bold plan. He tossed over a paper cup, and John caught it. “The Elder,” he read. Nothing else was written. “There’s a new Elder?”

“He assumed the role just before my trial began.”

John turned the cup over in his hands, considering. “…I don’t know…I tried that. Twice. The advice wasn’t worth the time.”

Vincent laughed. “Oh, no no no. I’m not going to ask his advice. I’m going to hold him at knifepoint until he agrees to reinstate me.”

“That…is a better idea.” Not a good idea. But better. “Do you know where he is?”

“I do! Information is power, no? I took as much as I could when things began to…disintegrate.” A shadow passed over Vincent’s face at the memory. “Anyway. He camps at the ‘Hidden Peak’ of the Himalayas, Gasherbrum I.”

John whistled. “The Chinese - Pakistani border. Can’t reach that by car.”

“So get me a flight.”

That would be a problem. They could hardly just walk into an airport. But… “There may be a way.”

“Excellent!” The Marquis clapped his hands and bounced off the log, sauntering towards John. “What a splendid day. Not even noon, and we’ve accomplished so much.” His eyes wandered over John’s bare chest. Clearly, he didn’t just mean the plan.

He shifted slightly, self-conscious. “It won’t be simple. You’re familiar with the Bowery network?”

“Obviously. What a brilliant idea. This is why you are so useful, Mr. Wick. They aren’t on the best terms with the Table just now, but they seem to have a soft spot for you. With you and your puppy dog eyes, I might just have a chance.”

“No. Not even with me. I go alone, and come back with our travel plans.”

“And I go where, exactly?” Looming over him with his brow tilted down suspiciously, it was suddenly no longer so difficult to believe Vincent was dangerous.

Good question. “Somewhere safe, nearby.” That seemed to satisfy him, as that dangerous look vanished in favor of a shy smile. John stood up, pacing. He didn’t like this at all. “That’s impossible at the New York headquarters. Too crowded. But the Jersey location…” He sighed and came to a stop directly in front of Vincent. “You sure this is the plan?”

“I wouldn’t say we have the luxury of sitting idly by for another three days trying to come up with a new one.”

“No.”

So, within minutes, John’s usual decisiveness had put them on the move again, still sticking to winding back roads. Vincent’s good spirits could not be contained. He chattered away from under the blanket in the backseat, requesting snacks and changes to the radio channels. John, on the other hand, couldn’t bring himself to say much. He had been running on the hope that they’d be delayed long enough for the Marquis to come around to retirement. If he had thought, on that first day, that there was any real possibility of his reinstatement…would he have done anything differently? Could he bring himself to do anything differently now?

“You’re quiet.”

“I’m always quiet.”

“Not like this.” Vincent huffed a nervous laugh. “I know this morning was delectable but I didn’t think it would steal your powers of speech. If I didn’t know better, I’d think…maybe you regretted it.”

“I don’t. It was…I – you’re gorgeous.” That was true. John could almost hear him smiling in the silence that followed.

“What are you thinking about, then?”

“…What are you going to do, if you get reinstated?”

“Rule. Solidify control over the eastern United States, where our punishments have grown disappointingly lax. South America can use significant development. Our prosperity has made us complacent. There is still room to expand the empire, even internally. Morale is low and the Table is divided against itself. Those with loyalty should be rewarded, to act as icons of inspiration. At the same time, our reach is more extensive than it has ever been. With the proper motivation, we could bring about the golden age of the High Table.” It seemed Vincent could listen to himself talk about this all day. “Imagine every High Table member being offered access to a political office of their choosing. Imagine monuments constructed in the Table’s honor, right under the noses of the public who think they are simply public installations. These would stand as testament to my own legacy, over and above the Table as a whole. I would be remembered as a great patron. We could expand funding for arts, historical documentation, and education. Gratuity programs for those who have shown themselves to be exceptionally dedicated. And of course, earning at least doubled over a ten year period - ”

“That level of expansion would be a bloodbath.”

“Such is life. Did you think I was planning to turn the Table into an orphanage for kittens? Maybe you have too weak a stomach for it, but I have my goals, as you’ve known from the beginning, and I will carry them out.”

“No. I will stop you.”

A tense silence followed. Vincent didn’t even seem to be breathing.

“Do you understand why?” John kept his voice deliberately level, flattening out both anger and pity. “You’ve killed my friends. And just…decent people. I will not let that happen again.”

“I didn’t kill them, you did,” he snapped. “I seem to recall that it was you who came begging to Winston until he meddled so much he got his concierge executed. Executed for you. It was you who led Caine to Koji’s doorstep. You’re irresponsible, can’t bow down to the level where you belong even for the sake of those you supposedly care for. It’s your fault they’re dead, your ego.”

For a moment, the wave of rage and guilt that washed through his gut was so deep that he couldn’t speak. Then, John forced himself to acknowledge that hurt as Vincent’s own, thrust onto the nearest possible vessel because he did not know how to endure it himself. John took a deep breath and did his best to lead by example. “Yes. I could have prevented their deaths too. I live with that every day.”

“What a saint. You’ve killed hundreds of people, Wick.”

“And it still matters whether or not I kill one more tomorrow.”

“Maybe I want to kill one more tomorrow. What then?”

“I’d be disappointed.”

No answer came. Somewhere near the state border, sunlight cast rapidly flickering dappled shadows from the leaves that rose up in verdant arches on either side of them, almost tall enough to meet in the middle. John realized he had driven this road once, with Helen, on the way to the beach, and the melancholic dread that had crept up on him ever since the morning sunk right down to the bones. I don’t want to kill Vincent someday. Please. He had to come around, he had to.

It took a while for him to realize that Vincent was locked in a pit of agony. The giveaway was the total lack motion, even the slightest rustling of blankets. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I just – “ His voice was muffled and he could not continue. John twisted around over the seat to see a motionless lump in the blanket indicating that Vincent was hiding his face in his hands even though he was already completely concealed. Sighing, he pulled over, parking just beyond the shoulder of the road. The sudden absence of engine noise made the moment feel awkwardly raw. In its place, he could hear slow, heavy breaths.

Vincent broke that silence first. “If I die of a heart attack, it will be because you tried to guilt me when you know I’m already dreadfully unwell.”

“You won’t die. You’re strong and you can face this. Breathe through it.”

He pushed the blanket off of his face and stared at the ceiling, arms lying on his chest in a death pose, deep in some internal struggle. So he had the capacity to struggle. He was alive in there. John pined. To help him, to hold him. But what Vincent needed most now was some confidence that he could endure this feeling without numbing it away. Another breathless silence, before Vincent’s voice came to him, extremely brittle and pained. “How do you do it? You said you live with – with it. How?”

“You won’t like this, but, love.”

Vincent gave a broken laugh. “Oh, va te faire foutre. [Oh, fuck off.]”

“Well, that’s how.”

“That doesn’t even mean anything.”

“It does.” John gathered his thoughts before trying to explain. “The way I see it, there’s no atoning for the things we’ve done. That constant call towards self-punishment…it’s pointless. We can’t change the past. But love is beyond blame or atonement. It’s pure…grace.”

“Isn’t grace for people who are actually trying to stop sinning? I don’t want to stop. The freedom to do as I please has served me excellently and I’m having a good time,” he said, wiping at his eyes.

“Vincent – “

“Va chier [Fuck you]. I have no interest in becoming a speck of dust on the floor. This is who I am. I act for my own glorification. It’s idiocy, what you’re asking for. You ask a man to blow up his own life’s work, turn away from pleasure, and dive into pure self-flagellation until he withers away to a shell of himself.”

“There is no withering involved. I want you to have forgiveness. The way this feels…I don’t want you to go through this. Don’t add wrongs on top of each other.”

He was barely speaking, just mouthing words as he sucked in air violently, his chest rising and falling rapid fire. “I ca- I can’t…”

“Hey. It’s okay. Breathe.” John got out and came around to the side door. “Up.” Vincent managed to sit up and slide over, but his face was hidden in his hands again and he was shuddering terribly. John pulled him into his arms. “If you can’t right now, okay. But I’m not giving up on you.”

“Tu es un connard têtu, [You’re a stubborn asshole,]” he said, muffled, and hugged John back.

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