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nevadas-night-time-novelist · 3 months

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hurt/comfort with female reader with Werewolf! Sanford?

reader has she/they pronouns

Pubby man :3

Werewolf!Sanford x Demigirl!reader

CW: mentions of painful transformation, reader gets hurt by accident

Scrolling down your feed today greeted you with posts and photos of both your ex boyfriend and ex best friend, mutual friends showering them with love and praise about their engagement, completely forgetting about how a year ago you'd caught them cheating together.

She was moved in, and you were evicted, a lifelong friendship down the drain, and a supposedly solid relationship of five years gone, bags packed and dumped outside with you.

Old scars ached again, tears filling your eyes despite how hard you tried to fight them. "She thought I actually loved her!" Ex bf laughed, his girl joining in. "They're so stupid! I mean really [Name], do you think someone like him would care for a nothing like you?"

It was dark, a light drizzle dampening your skin and suitcase, hands shaking from the winter chill and adrenaline pumping in your veins. Who could you even call right now? The two people you'd usually turn to were the ones who'd caused this agony.

A name popped up in your contacts, one you'd run with in the past for a brief period. Sanford, a man with a spotty past, but a heart of gold. It'd been a few years... Would he have the same number? Would he remember you? Would he even care?

You hit dial.

Your walk down memory lane was disrupted as the bed was weighed down, San flopping down next to you with a towel around his hips, and one around his lengthy locs. "Hey princess," He sported a wolfish grin, but it dropped when he saw you crying. "oh sweetie, what's wrong?"

He sat up and pulled you into his arms, even if you'd tried to resist, you doubted you could, his arms muscular from all the fighting and heaving lifting he did in his day-to-day. The smell of wet dog clung to him, part of his lycanthropy, no matter how hard he scrubbed or what scents he used, he'd always smell of wet dog out of the shower.

"It-it's been a year since it happened," He glanced and your phone, still on the photo featuring ex bestie's hand, showing off the stupid rock on her finger. Carefully he took your phone and set it down.

Over the past year, you'd rekindled your friendship with Ford, introducing you to his current company and friends. As different as you were to the team, they'd mostly accepted you with open arms, with the exception of the ever looming darkness named Hank. They still didn't seem to have warmed up to you.

"Why did you bring an outsider in? She looks weak, unable to pull their weight here." Hank grumbled in annoyance.

"Cause they're Ford's friend, you moody creep." Deimos rolled his eyes, patting your shoulder. "A friend of Fordie's is a friend of mine, alright chiquita?"

Doc, the leader of the group, watched you carefully behind his red tinted goggles. "I'll the the risk and accept you on the grounds that Sanford trusts you. But make no mistake, if you cross us, you won't like what will happen."

Once or twice a month, the boys would shower after working, and head out at night which had confused you at first, until you'd come to realise these outings always lined up with full moons. You'd cornered Sanford about it once, and he folded, showing off a massive scar on his back, claws had raked down it and eternally changed his fate.

"Werewolf. Would've have figured there would be werewolves out here, but there's vampires and witches, and other occultist stuff." He shivered as you touched them, long since healed over, but still sensitive and tender to touch. "I accidentally turned Deimos into one, who bit Doc and turned him, and in turn he changed Hank."

Despite the four of them being werewolves, you'd never seen any of them in their wolfy forms, and the curiosity picked at your brain whenever you glanced the scars on San's back, the one on Dei's shoulder, Doc's wrist and Hank's throat.

"C-can you please stay with me tonight?" You sobbed into Sanford's chest, and he let out a long sad dog sigh.

"It's a full moon tonight princess." His golden eyes met yours. "It'd be incredibly dangerous."

"Please?"

He sighed again. "Changing isn't super fun to watch, you get used to the pain after a few turns, but the noises and movements of it can be disturbing. But I am worried about you, so I will stay tonight. But whatever happens, please know I'm not going to be in full control of myself. The animalistic side can be vicious, which is why we go outside."

Darkness fell, Deimos whined about taking Sanford out and Doc seemed unconvinced about leaving you alone with another wolf, but eventually the three left when Hank began groaning and falling onto his hands, a sign of incoming change.

"Hank's always the first to turn." Sanford was laying on his stomach while resting his head on your lap, wearing boxer shorts and nothing else. Why would he get dressed up to tear out of his clothes later?

"I'd say it's because Doc bit him in the throat so the wolf side hits hit brain faster, but it's much more likely they're so eager to hunt and tear that they kinda force it." He was helping distract you, and it was working fairly well.

"Does he grow fur or is he bald like he normally is?" You had to stifle a laugh imagining a hairless werewolf.

"He grows thick black fur, like his eyebrows. But it's kinda funny they get hair once or twice a month only to lose it in the morning." San chuffed before letting out a long groan and exhale. "It's starting to happen, princess."

His golden eyes met yours, his iris growing further into his eye, his pupils narrowing into fine points. "I don't want to scare you, are you really sure you want me here tonight?"

"I couldn't be scared of you Sanford. I... Like you too much to be scared." A loud snap came from his body, his skull began to reform, nose and lips pushing outwards and transforming into a snout.

Sanford snarled the whole time his body shifted, his bones cracking and reshaping to accommodate his wolf form. You tenderly supported his head on your lap as he writhed in pain, he raked his claws over your thigh by accident, leaving bloodied scratches.

A mixture of black and dark grey fur coated his body, his arms, legs, back and face black, while the rest was dark grey with black mixed in. He was beautiful, his pelt incredibly soft under your fingers. San's golden eyes opened, and he looked up to you, a mixture of wildness and familiarity in him.

His cold wet nose twitched, and he looked down at your leg, noticing the scratch he'd made. "Don't... worry about it." You mumbled softly, apprehensive that he'd turn vicious if you spoke too loud. Of course you loved and trusted him, but at the end of a day, he was a gigantic wolf, who could tear you apart.

He licked the wound, and it ached, before going numb, and you watched as the flesh slowly melded together, forming a bumpy scar. Wolf spit had a healing factor of some kind, interesting.

Sanford got up, stretching his full body, joints creaking and popping slightly as they settled into their new positions. He shook his body, sending fluff everywhere, coating you, the bed, the floor, every surface.

"What are you going to do now..?" He looked at you, tilting his head aside. Normally he'd be full of energy, ready to spring, hunt, kill. But right now... He just wanted to lay with his packmate. San settled back on the bed, his chest heaving with each breath.

Admittedly he looked comfortable, and you cautiously laid your head on his side, hearing his heart beating. His fur was silky soft, he was a massive fluffy pillow, perfect to just close your eyes for a second on and-

You woke to the bed being disturbed, opening your aching eyes to see another wolf standing over you, his sea-glass eyes glittering softly. Tufts of black intertwined with his brown and white fur, his tail wagging slowly, careful to not spook you.

He smelled of smoke and earth, his tongue lolling slowly as he panted, tired from his hunt. Deimos, definitely Deimos. He collapsed over you, Sanford letting out a loud huff as the smaller, but still larger than you, wolf made himself comfy.

The next was a wolf of light and dark grey, white around his muzzle to show his age. Doc, judging by the black streaks sticking up like a mohawk along his back, and the scars along his face. He pressed his nose to your cheek before laying behind Sanford, the two back to back.

Last was a jet black wolf with angry red eyes, he leaped onto the bed, his lips peeled back. Interestingly, his missing lower jaw had been changed into one that bit his wolf face, and there was blood oozing from it. A lot of blood.

Hank spat a severed finger onto your chest, a familiar looking engagement ring around it, before they laid down, cheek slightly touching your leg. As grizzly as his gift was, at least Hank had done something nice for you. Kinda.

You tossed the finger aside and let the warm wolf pile lull you back to sleep, dreams of one day running with them flooding your mind. Perhaps... One day.

#hank #deimos #sanford #2bdamned #madcom #madness combat #madness combat x reader #madness combat reader insert #sanford x reader #x reader #x gon deliver to ya

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darlingdarkly · 2 days

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Fates Worse Than Death Part 5

Deimos x f!reader noncon! Enemies to Lovers

2.9k words

CW: noncon elements, dubcon elements, angst, mentions of character death, game spoilers

Parts: 1, 4

Routine has a way of cutting our lives into neat little boxes. The same thing in and out quickly blankets over any obscenities or anomalies until you’re numb to what made them absurd in the first place, completely draining any context or substance they may have held. They become unreal to you, just a fact of life. Like morticians or executioners when you do the same, at first glance, abhorrent tasks day in and out it starts to become ordinary, just part of the mundane, as vexing as brushing your teeth or fetching the mail.

The days began to bleed together. The pair of you fell into a regular schedule, one where there was never a moment you were apart and for better or for worse you began to get comfortable, complacent in your unusual relationship. You slipped into the regularity of routine, waking up, sharing breakfast, doing desk work in the mornings and then sharing lunch, odd menial things in the afternoon before sharing dinner and then bed. You didn’t even notice the slip, drifting effortlessly into place next to him, becoming relaxed around him. He became a statue, a steady faucet, always there.

There was even training, every day you and him would start with stretches before a run and then light sparring where more often than not you found yourself face first into the mat but it was exertion and that suited you just fine. It was during one of these training sessions where the inevitable finally happened. He wondered how long it was going to take for you to become comfortable enough to bring it up. He should have known, but he had let himself become comfortable too and maybe that’s why it caught him half by surprise as it did.

You had only been sparring for about a week, moved up from the basics to being confident enough in your abilities for wooden trainers to be added to the mix. He threw one at you and you caught it with ease, examining the crudely carved knife and testing its grip in your palm. It had been too long for your liking since you’d gripped a knife, even a fake one and it felt like slipping back into an old sweater.

You both stood opposite each other on the mat with a trainer in hand and he allowed you to make the first move, jabbing inward towards him with an intended blow to his right side, a move he saw coming and sidestepped, bringing his own knife up for a slash to your neck.

You pulled your head back and away just in time before ducking down and pushing your blade up into his armpit where it ultimately would drive between his ribs and into his lung. He stepped back with the bout over and stood before you impressed. He came at you first the next time, feigning a go for your soft neck but redirecting at the last moment and dipping around behind you when you moved to evade and capturing you in a headlock, he smiled as you swore and tapped him with the handle of your trainer on the back of his arm as a surrender.

He went again, pulling a similar move and found himself impressed as you predicted it and put distance between you, adapting quickly and learning as you went. He found himself wondering just how trained you were, the thoughts spilling into one another as he assessed your skills up close and personally.

The bouts went on, each of you trading blows and working up a sweat until he held up a hand to signal a break. Your shoulders dropped and you stepped back until the backs of your knees hit the bench and you dropped down on it to recover. He stood where he was as he addressed you.

“When are you going to tell me your ability?” You froze like a deer in the headlights. Of all the questions he could have asked he picked the one you couldn’t answer. You don’t even have an excuse prepared, completely blindsided. You knew it was going to happen eventually but you had assumed it would come later, always later.

“I’m not.” You hope you can be cheeky and skate.

“Why?” God he’s persistent. It’s like he had a sixth sense for when you were trying to avoid a subject. Prodding you for discomfort and pushing on the spots that made you wince.

“Because.. I don’t want to.” Your answers not good enough, his head tilt says it all.

“Sugar cane..” he won’t let you keep getting away with half truths and run arounds, you have to give him something and the first thing you come up with is what you feed him, you hope he can’t taste the deceit in it.

“It’s still in development.” Which is true, you have a few ideas but haven’t set down anything concrete yet. You have some plans worked up but they’ll have to go through Mira for approval and probably be reworked for flaws or additions depending on her judgment but there was still a long way to go even before that step. You hope to god he’ll just let it go.

“What rank are you?” You looked up, trying to get a read on him. Why was he asking questions he already had the answers to. Why was he pressing so hard? Digging deep to the heart of the issue. “You know what my rank is. It’s in my file.”

“I have your medical file, not your dossier.” You weren’t sure where he was going with this. But if he didn’t accept this then your back was against the wall and you’d have to tell him the truth. “Well before Rainbow I-“

“Not before. You and I both know nothing before Rainbow matters.” And there it was, the unavoidable question. It was a trap, one you could see but had no choice but to walk into, you could lie but he’d find out one way or another. He’d done it once before.

“Recruit.” You’d whispered it but he heard it clear as a bell and you wondered again if any of the intel on him was correct, he was almost supernatural in his abilities for a 51 year old.

“A recruit!?! Are you telling me they haven’t promoted you? You’re not even a full blown operator yet and they sent you out here for me?” You mentally flinch a little at the jest, you know it wasn’t meant to be hurtful but it stung all the same. Your first instinct is to try and defend yourself and Rainbow for that matter.

“I was close. This mission, had it been successful, was going to push me the last of the way, I was sure of it.” You were going to say more but he cut you off.

“You don’t even know? How long have you been at Rainbow?” And the follow up question drops. The answer automatically rolling to the front of your mind like a steel ball and thudding against the pan of your brain, it hurt.

“Two years.” He’s silent and somehow that’s worse because you can’t even imagine what’s going on in his head.

“Sugar cane, that’s ridiculous. You know that, right? Do you not realize the potential you’ve shown me in the last month alone? Do you not see they are squandering your talent? You shouldn’t be sat out on the sidelines. You’re ready, you’ve been ready.”

The heat of his praise never fails to warm you and you still find you don’t know what to do with it but as rewarding as it is you still find yourself jumping to defend the organization. “That’s not my decision to make.”

“It used to really be something, an organization made up of the world's elites. A force that brought justice to looming evil, a tactile resolution to the previously untouchable. We kept it in check.” You hadn’t expected this, you never thought you’d hear him talk about his time at Rainbow.

It was by no means a secret, every new batch of recruits huddled together after dark in the barracks or around the fire camping out during orienteering training heard the tale of one of Rainbow’s fiercest enemies.

So feared not only because of his ruthless reputation and terrifying ability that was impossible to evade but because he used to be one of us.

“Rainbow used to mean something. We used to mean something.” And his gaze fell from you as he relived some vivid memory as he spoke. “We were a force. Striking fear into the hearts of our enemies, saving hundreds of thousands of lives.”

“What happened?” You stared up at him, training long forgotten in lieu of hearing him lay it all out for you, whether you liked what you heard or not. This is the part of the story no one knew. “They ruined it, tarnished our name and reputation. Dissected Rainbow and ripped out its spine, let it get all soft and mushy. It’s the same reason you’re still a recruit and not out there in it. Now it’s not even a shell of the beast it used to be.”

“A group of us ultimately defected, unwilling to bend the knee. Got labeled as traitors and terrorists, sought out to be destroyed by what he had helped build. The only answer was to cut off the head of the snake.” Your blood ran cold as you realized what he was referring to and as instantly as it chilled it began to heat.

“We were a covert unit of apex killers and he turned it into the fucking escapades. Harry was a fucking louse.

He disgraced my unit and if no one else would step up and hold the gun then so be it.” It was only when he looked back up at you did he realize his mistake.

You weren’t the only one settling into complacency. He hadn’t realized how comfortable he’d gotten, the noose settling around his neck without so much as a flinch. He had been trying so hard to coax you from your defensive shell he’d never realized how vulnerable he was making himself in the process and he had never meant to open up to you quite this much, cut himself open as he had, but it had been so long since he had shared like this and the flow of it took him and made him bleed more than he had intended, but he realized it just a bit too late.

“What the fuck do you know about Harry?” He could feel the heat coming off you in waves. He hadn’t realized you were close with Harry, there was no way he could have really known, but fuck it. It was time you learned the truth.

“Did I strike a nerve, sugar cane?” You glared him down.

“You don’t know a damn thing. Whatever happened to you it wasn’t that. You’re wrong. We’re not soft. And I don’t believe you.” The ‘we’ struck a chord in him, one that stung a bit but he couldn't let it show.

“Of course you don’t, God you’re loyal to a fault you know that?” You want to shove the wooden trainer down his throat, can see yourself doing it in your mind even as you know it’d never play out that way.

You couldn’t sit still any longer and rose up off the bench, undeterred as the image of your leader and mentor filled your mind and the anger that sapped from it you harbored to coat your words until they were gorged with poison. “Killing Harry meant nothing. You think it’ll change Rainbow? Somehow magically restore your perfect fucking unit? You’re living in the past, Deimos. Grow up.”

“He was running Rainbow into the ground. Why do you think it’s deteriorating from the inside out? Ghost Eyes? Red Hammer? You really think Rainbow breaking into factions makes you stronger? You’re wrong. It’s weakening you. Don’t even get me started on Nighthaven. Inviting them in so freely. Didn’t even realize they were there to poach your technology and operators until it was too late. Rainbow is crumbling and Harry was holding the hammer.”

“You’re wrong!” But he’s not. It’s no secret things have been going wrong for a long time now, even Rainbow’s enemies were privy to the internal struggles, poising to strike while it was weak. They hadn’t ever suspected it to come from one of their own.

“There is none so blind as those who refuse to see, sweetheart.” Your temper reached its fever pitch and you could feel the air around you stilling, the calm before the storm, the static it resonated undeniable.

“You’re wrong. And if you think you’ve got your hands around our throat I suggest you think again. You’re underestimating us and it’ll be your downfall.” You stand opposite each other and it’s clear while he’d made the fatal slip it was you who came out the most upheaved by it. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as your temper threatens to claim your better judgment. You find you can’t stand to look at him a moment longer, uncertain of what you’ll do if you have to.

You storm out and it only adds fuel to your flames when he doesn’t bother following you, like he’s secure enough in recapturing you had you tried to escape that it didn’t matter. You kept your head down as you passed groups of unfriendly faces, lost in your own mental quarrels you wished one would try something, give you an outlet to lash out against but they all seemed to know better. You made it out of the building and headed east. There was only one thing right now that could ease your ill mood, you were happy to find it unlocked.

The noise greets you like an old friend and they’ve grown accustomed to you enough to anticipate your arrival each time. They welcome you in with the same mix of barks and whimpers and you find the sound wraps around you like a warm hug. You greet them back one by one, stopping and giving each a thorough pat down through the gates. You’d grown to love them all but Clover cemented her place in your heart as your favorite.

You pulled open the door to her pen and stepped inside carefully as she attempted to wrap herself around your legs, beating you up with her tail in the process. Your mind eases and you start to forget a little. You spend the rest of the day there, cleaning up their enclosures before playing with each in turn, tug of war with an old piece of rope you’d found and bringing them out of their pens one at the time for a few rounds of fetch.

It’s odd, this stretch of alone time. After a solid month of being with him constantly this step back was both jarring and full of clarity. It’d been a long time since you’d done a mental inventory and you didn’t care for what you found once you did. You were upset with him but the reasoning behind it made you uncomfortable. It wasn’t Harry’s death, that was only the spark that had ignited the flame. You’d mourned him already, the initial stages of grief long past.

This felt like a different kind of upset, its flavor twinged with disappointment, but why? Why would you expect anything else from him? He was your enemy, you knew that. You hate your enemies, you strive to watch them exhale their last breath, actively plot their demise. But running those things back with him in mind didn’t feel right, they made you a bit queasy. You refused to acknowledge the implications of it, no matter how undeniable they appeared to be. Nothing had changed. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that everything he’d said to you rang of truth while you were only lying to yourself.

You’d just finished feeding them when he stepped in. “Thought I’d find you here.” The pang of emotion that washed over you at the sound of his voice made you uncomfortable but you fought down any kind of reaction it threatened to bring to the surface and didn’t even turn to acknowledge him. But you weren’t expecting the accompanying sting when he didn’t even try to smooth any of it over, choosing instead to change the subject and drive head on to whatever point he came to make.

“I just got some news.” You turn to face him then, the possibilities of what he was going to say next had no end and you were all ears. “I have to leave again, tomorrow morning.”

He continues. “I didn’t want to but after learning the nature of the situation I can’t send anyone in my place and there’s no other alternatives.” Another escape attempt jumps to the forefront of your mind, it’s reactionary but even as the thought forms it dies. You’d have to have some kind of a leg up, a new plan and you have yet to find a new chink in their armor, but maybe while he’s gone you can come up with something for another time.

“It’s gonna be at least a week or so, the trip will take half a day alone but we’ll manage it.” Your ears prick up. Did he just say we? He can tell by the expression on your face that you’ve picked up on the catch.

“Wait, you don’t mean?…”

“Pack your bags, sugar cane. We’re going on a trip.”

#dead dove fic #dead dove do not eat #deimos x reader #r6s deimos x you #tw noncon #tw dark content #twdubcon #r6s deimos #rainbow six siege #rainbow six x reader

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saltymongoose · 2 years

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hey i know most if not all of these have the player be human but i was wondering about maybe having the player as something close to human but not? yeah i’m going with it how would they (Hank, Deimos, Sanford, 2B) react to a vampire Player (specifically one doesn’t die to sunlight in Nevada only because it’s not technically their sun) who maybe might or might not have a pleasant (as in it feels almost as good as sex kinda pleasant if that’s ok) bite to them when they drink blood from the grunts?

Ahhh I love this so so much, you have no idea! :D I like anything having to do with vampires, and this is the perfect time to be doing spooky requests, so thank you for sending this to me! We’re going with a bit of VTM/WoD and (mainly) Hellsing logic for vampires here, just in case anyone is curious, but you don’t need any experience with either of them to read this. [Also, given the more suggestive nature of the biting that you asked for, I've relegated that to a shorter second part for safety. ;)]

[WORLD WITHOUT LOGOS] - How They React to a Vampire!Player ft. The Main 4

(Warnings: Yandere, Obsessive Behavior, Violence, Brief Mentions of Blood and Gore, Mentions of Biting, Reader is a bit of a sadist.)

It had been very easy for you to hide your vampirism from the humans back in your world. Sure, technology and medicine had come a long way over time, but there were always ways to avoid detection. Being mysteriously vague about your person and what you do outside of streaming, taking jobs that require work at night and/or inside, and keeping just enough distance from humans to stop from being found out or suspected. Playing with the minds of those you drained to ensure they wouldn’t be able to get you caught. (It took some practice, but you had more than a few decades to perfect it.)

Besides, no rational human would ever believe that vampires were actually real (something your kind used quite often for your benefit).

However, keeping it from your vessels in Nevada was far more difficult - impossible, even, given your circumstances. The first time you met them, you were required to touch Sanford because he helpfully picked you up to help bring you back. He expected you to be hot to the touch; it made sense that you’d radiate immense heat, considering the beacon of warmth you appeared to be with the cozy aura you had. However, he was shocked when instead of this he was met with your freezing skin. You were worryingly cold, but the lack of any viewable cuts or bruises showed that it wasn’t from any large injury.

You noticed his worry, and at the mounting discussion of what could possibly be wrong with you, you saw fit to just reveal it right away. It was unprecedented, but secrecy wouldn’t work here, especially not when you had to feed once a day (and with how much they seemed to care, they probably wouldn’t let any unexplained disappearance go).

Given the many differences between regular humans and grunts, and how open your vessels already were to your strange appearance, they accepted the news of your undeath rather easily. You being a literal supernatural creature wasn’t met with any recoil (as to them you kind of already were).

It wasn’t something you expected, but you welcomed it nonetheless. However, some of the more unique features of your vampirism made them very curious, and their fascination with a part of you that you kept hidden from most in your world, one that was so integral to who you were as a person, only brought you closer to them.

- [HANK J. WIMBLETON] -

Hank had little to no interest in the supernatural before you met, and as such, he never bothered to learn the intricacies behind folklore or media regarding vampires. Nevada has enough weirdness already without that. This gap in knowledge bothered him for the first time when you finally revealed what you were, but he couldn’t figure out what exactly to ask you. Fortunately enough, you were more than happy to demonstrate what you could.

You know that one of the things Hank understands best is destruction, and considering that you aren’t restricted by the rules that your kind has to adhere to any longer, there’s no need to keep yourself and your abilities hidden. As such, you had no issue with fighting at Hank’s side instead of merely controlling him. It honestly scared him at first, seeing you come up close to the battlefield when he had already engaged the enemies in front of you. However, you had never steered him wrong before, and he loved you, so he trusted you wholeheartedly. He knew from the confident look in your eyes that whatever you planned wouldn’t end badly.

He immediately noticed the dark, inky blotches beginning to form on your shoulders over your clothes, shadows pulling from your surroundings as the unstable mass grew larger. It was disturbing, especially when eyes started to open within its depths, only for it to spill over the rest of your torso, obscuring your body in a flowing mess of crimson irises and indescribable darkness, lit only by the pulsing glow of souls trapped within. (It was at this moment that he realized how little he actually knew of your true nature.)

“Alright, big guy,“ you said, flashing him a too-wide grin, sharp teeth glinting in the light. "Let’s see how my powers match up against grunts, shall we?”

It had admittedly been a very long time since you were able to show off any of your more flashy abilities, and you might go a bit (very) overboard when you have the opportunity to join the fight. Summoning some familiars who you’ve consumed in the past, physically changing the form of your own body in seconds, even using your own immense strength and speed to tear your poor enemies apart whenever one got too close for your liking. It was more energy than you’d used in centuries, and you were reveling in it. And so was Hank.

He knew there had to be a reason why your strategies were so sound, and why every battle you got involved in went their way, and it was exemplified by your stunning proficiency in battle. You had several years to perfect your techniques, and seeing them awed him more than anything else.

Hank can only watch adoringly as you spear, slice, and tear your enemies to pieces, internally gushing when you shoot him a wink or a self-satisfied grin after another gory kill. You destroy your enemies in a way that’s horrifying and brutal, but Hank thinks you never look more beautiful than when you’re covered in the viscera and gore of your enemies, mouth stained with blood and a cruel look of victory on your face. Those poor grunts never stood a chance - and neither did his heart if the way it palpitated almost worryingly at the mesmerizing sight of you was any sign. His hands shake as he reaches up to place them on his cheeks, lost in openly fawning over you until he is reminded that he can also assist you in taking them out.

This admiration didn’t stop the flare of jealousy that would happen when he saw you use your teeth on one of them though. Seeing you hurriedly drain someone of their life, watching them weakly cling to you as their putrid blood poured into your maw only reminded him that it was his blood you were supposed to be drinking. (He was, of course, ignoring the fact that you only did it to kill the other grunt, but death by your hands wasn’t the worst that could happen, especially when Doc could just bring him back.)

One of the only other specific things that Hank showed open interest in was “blood bonds”, as he heard you discussing them with 2BDamned. You were confused about him bringing it up, since it was such a random thing to pinpoint, but tried to explain it in the simplest way possible nonetheless.

It was certainly an interesting idea to him. The notion that each drink of your blood would bring you deeper into a bond with each other. Sure, there was the fact that it made the thrall have little to no free will unless you allowed it, would make him adore you beyond any logical reason, and make it excruciating to be apart from you for long periods of time, but who’s to say that wasn’t the case already? (Free will was overrated in his opinion if it meant he couldn’t be wholly yours.)

He even asked if you’d be willing to do this to him, which earned a dumbfounded look from you. (You know he liked you well enough, but no one ever just wants to be in a blood bond with your kind. Perhaps you underestimated just how much he enjoyed your presence. He thought that you’d have some idea of that, after all this time.)

“Hank- I already drink your blood a lot,” you said, gesturing to his neck. “If you have mine right now, you’ll just become a vampire along with the whole thrall thing. So no, I can’t do that.” You paused upon seeing his shoulders slump slightly in disappointment. If you weren’t so taken off guard, you’d have found it comical. “…Plus, you are already one of my prized vessels, and I like you too much to want to be apart from you for long anyway. We don’t really need a blood bond to be close if you think about it.” (Was it maybe a little manipulative to steer the conversation in that direction just to stop him from fretting about it? Yes. But it was for his own good, you don’t want him to be an unthinking immortal servant. Besides, everything you said was true anyway.)

He perked up at that and nodded quickly, seemingly appeased by your words, but still pulled his mask down to give you a little affectionate nip when he hugged your cold form (one that didn’t draw blood, thankfully). You welcomed it well enough, even if the irony brought an amused grin to your face.

(What, you think that just because he couldn’t drink your blood (right now), he wasn’t gonna put his teeth on you? Consider it payback for all those marks you give him. Besides, grunts have their own behaviors regarding biting, and even if he didn’t tell you that this was a claim, what matters is that the others knew just how much you belonged to each other. You were right; it didn’t matter that you didn’t have a true blood bond with each other, not when his complete devotion and love for you was so great that it could surpass that.)

- [2BDAMNED] -

The only “Vampires” that 2BDamned knew a lot about were the grunts who made up the gang that shared the name. He’s aware they shared some traits with your kind, however, he was far more curious about the vampires from your world.

He's the first to ask you deeper questions regarding your abilities and what limitations vampires had, mainly so he can find ways to circumvent them. He knows you are incredibly resilient, and nearly immortal, but he isn’t willing to risk any injury to you. (What kind of vessel, no, partner would he be if he lets such a thing happen?)

This includes discussing everything about what could possibly harm you, which you were understandably hesitant to divulge (because it’s something your kind makes a huge point to not ever do). However, Doc doesn't push you to share information, unlike the mortals in your realm that knew of your affliction. It was comforting. (Really, he wants to know more everything about you, but he won’t do it in a way that pushes too far. He has too much respect for you to do that, and that’s not how you treat someone you love.)

His patience makes it almost easy to tell him about how a stake through the heart can actually kill you if used properly, how hunger could drive you mad, and how holy water burns through your skin if you’re in a state of weakness. It was simple to talk about how unfavorable contracts could be formed if you were in a weak enough state to be forced into such a thing.

The words are spoken quietly, ensuring that only he’d be able to hear them from where you were sitting, comfortably pressed to his side in his office. You’re still closed off about yourself, but you know that Doc won’t use your weaknesses against you. He swore it to you, after all; made a promise and even offered to bind himself into a contract with you over it, no matter the terms or the price. His devotion to you was blinding, you had to admit. It made you realize you felt something akin to actual affection and fondness for him (which you didn’t even know you could still do.)

One subject you can discuss openly without fear, on the other hand, is your anatomy. You’ve touched upon what your body was weak to, but he was still extremely curious about how you worked. Luckily for him, you’re willing to entertain all his questions and prodding.

He’s quick to take your tentative offer of a hands-on examination. You weren’t open to people in your world inspecting you, but you trust Doc despite your underlying reservations, so you allow him to manipulate your body to get a better look at your limbs and torso with little resistance. His touch is painfully soft when he moves you, gloved hands soothing over your fingers and arms as he turns them to check your non-existent pulse. Perhaps it was an excuse to feel the contrast of your icy skin with the odd, comfortable warmth you exuded. Or maybe he just liked touching you.

You raise a brow at the tender way he runs his hands over you, unused to being treated with such gentleness, but lean in when he gently grasps your jaw to look at your face. (Even after looking you over so many times, he never skipped it.) He hums when you helpfully open your mouth for him to inspect your sharp teeth. (And with your superhuman hearing it’s to miss the hitch in his breath when you open your maw a bit further, “accidentally” brushing one of your long, pointed fangs against his fingers. The corner of your mouth twitches when his heart rate picks up drastically. Mortals could be so amusing sometimes.)

Being in any physical contact with you was something 2BDamned needed getting used to, mainly because he had the tendency to hyper-fixate on everything about the feel of your skin and the way you looked. You look perfectly “human” and personable, but he knows from the dark look of your eyes and the unnatural coldness that something otherworldly and sinister lurks beneath your visage. To anyone else, it might be unsettling, but it only makes you more alluring to him. (He wants to spend every waking minute of his life around you if only so he can take in everything about your unique form.)

Verbal questions, however, are another matter. They leave Doc feeling unfulfilled more than anything, no matter how simple he thought the answer might’ve been. Case in point, that one time he asked you a simple question about your regenerative abilities. He wanted to know about how you were completely unscathed, clothes and all, even after the others had reported you got injured.

“Ah, that’s thanks to my regeneration. Getting shot doesn’t have much of an effect besides the obvious, so healing isn’t an issue. For clothes, I guess you can say my abilities extend to mending cloth as well as flesh.” That had been your answer, and while Doc was thankful for your clarification, it certainly didn’t help him figure out how you could do that to begin with.

2BDamned is very intelligent, which is a given; he wouldn’t have his current position if he wasn’t. However, the fact that he can’t fully understand your complex biology, as magically influenced as it is, bothers him to an unreasonable degree. He supposes it’s because he’s always operated from a position of power when it came to knowledge, but now he’s in one where he simply can’t get you completely. It makes him feel…inadequate, in a way. What help is he to you if he can’t employ his smarts? He’s not a combat-oriented vessel like the others, so how could he possibly assist you enough to be entirely useful (and irreplaceable) like he wants?

You knew about this worry he had the moment he first thought of it around you (mind reading was one of the many effects of drinking blood from someone), and sought to persuade him otherwise. The fact that he thought it was even possible to understand everything about how your kind worked was naive, but you could get it. For someone who knew so much about his own world, it would make sense that your natural ambiguity would be a point of irritation for him. However, that didn’t mean it was actually worth that level of annoyance.

“Hey, Doc.” you got his attention at the tail-end of one of your explanations, and he looked up from the tablet he was recording your answers on. “I should probably tell you: not every ability I have can be logically explained, and even I don’t know everything about them. So don’t worry if you can’t find an answer; I’ve lived like this for hundreds of years and I know what I can do. If anything, you’re helping by ironing out what I’m weak to and making sure we avoid it.”

He didn’t respond for a moment, too busy processing your words. They certainly put things into perspective for him; if you yourself didn’t know the reason why everything about you was that way, how could he? No, it made perfect sense, and he wasn’t so foolish as to believe he could understand you better than you yourself could.

Instead, this gave him a different objective to focus on. He knew that he had to use any option necessary to prove himself worthy of your attention, even if it didn’t rely on figuring out how you worked. A large part of him yearned to be useful to you in every way possible, and he swore to himself that he would. As his Player (and future romantic partner), you deserve nothing less.

- [SANFORD] -

Sanford is concerned about you more than anything. He knows that the sun can’t hurt you here, but there might be other things that can, and as a result, he’s always on the lookout for anything regarding silver (or enemies that might use it) so he can warn you. His main concern has always been your safety and well-being, and that’s not going to change just because you’re a vampire. Plus, it’s how he shows his love.

He also worries about your mental health as well. He can’t begin to imagine the toll that immortality could have on your psyche, so he lets you know very early on that if you need somebody to vent to, he’s there. You’re comforted by this, even though you don’t exactly come to him for this specific purpose. (You were hesitant to talk about anything personal, centuries worth of careful secrecy had that effect on you. Sanford makes it hard to keep this up, though.)

When you do have your discussions, they’re at the times when you’re alone together, and when you’re feeling particularly vulnerable. Sanford will always remember the first time you opened up to him about yourself, even if it was small. He had woken up at dawn, deciding to do a quick patrol around the perimeter to check for any encroaching enemies (especially AAHW), only to open the door and see you sitting on the steps outside. You were looking upward, watching Nevada’s sky begin to color its usual crimson as the broken sun rose. You had a wistful expression on your face, one that conveyed a wordless longing and deep appreciation. He shifted from behind you, weighing whether or not he should interrupt your peaceful isolation before you spoke to him.

“I once knew a vampire who became so transfixed by the beauty of the sunrise that they stood in its rays just to see it for longer, only to turn to stone and crumble to dust.” It was said as a near whisper, and Sanford was struck by how open and vulnerable you sounded. You didn’t turn your head to see him, keeping your gaze on the changing shades of red and pink. “It has been a long time since I’ve seen it myself.”

You didn’t move when he stepped closer, something he took as an invitation to sit down beside you, moving his gun to his lap when he did. He didn’t know what to say, afraid of speaking out of line and making you close in on yourself. He settled for a simple question (small talk, really): “What do you think of it?”

“…It is different from how I remember mine being. But I suppose I can understand where my kindred was coming from,” you responded. The words of how much you missed seeing the sun went unspoken, yet Sanford understood the sentiment all the same. How hard it must’ve been, to go so long without seeing the light of day. “It is beautiful, and the warmth is something to be missed.” You kept your eyes trained on the red sky for a moment longer before turning to face him. He had already been staring at you, and shyly averted his gaze, his visual-cross evading your sight before returning (even if he was a tad embarrassed at the blush he could feel heating his face, you still deserved his full attention). He found that your crimson eyes were more radiant than Nevada’s scarlet heavens could ever be. You smiled at him softly. “But the company makes it better.” (He hoped you couldn’t hear how his heart stuttered at your words. You could.)

Most of your discussions about how you actually are go similarly. He lets you instigate them, wanting you to be in full control of your vulnerability so you feel safe letting him in on such things. Surprisingly, it’s something you actually engage in, even if you’re never that direct about your feelings. It also becomes customary to have these in talks in the morning when you watch the sunrise together. (Truthfully, the first time it happened had been a fluke: it was Deimos’ turn to take first watch that day, and half an hour after Sanford had awoken. He never thought he’d have a reason to thank his finicky biological clock, but he’d never been happier than when he was spending time with you, alone and uninterrupted by the others in your group.)

Sanford is also the main one out of the four who asks about your history. It first came from wanting to understand you more, as a person’s background could tell a lot about them and their way of thinking. While you don’t see much of an appeal in discussing clan politics, it does let you unload on all sorts of gossip and weird things you’ve seen and done. (Deimos also joins you occasionally for these talks, mainly because hearing you talk about the outlandish acts you’ve witnessed with such a straight face is hilarious to him.)

(“Wait, so the Camarilla is your main governing organization, right?” Sanford asked, and you nodded with a noise of confirmation. “So why aren’t you a part of them, then? You’re smart enough to be, in my opinion.” (It was with this that Deimos added on a “And powerful enough”, to which Sanford nodded in agreement.)

“Hah, flattery will get you everywhere, you know,” you responded with a sly grin (one that made pink dust his cheeks, and had Deimos aim a pointed glare at him, even if he couldn’t hide his own reaction to your expression). “But no, not at all. The Camarilla doesn't like me because I’m old.” Deimos snorted loudly and Sanford furrowed his brow (because they supposedly knew you were immortal, what the hell-), looking so innocently confused you couldn’t help but laugh.

“In Vamp society, people of 150 years are considered Elders - and there are very few of them. I am over 700 and older than their entire organization. I don’t like toddlers telling me what to do, and they’re threatened by the fact that I’m so powerful that nobody’s managed to kill me yet. I think they’re annoying and they don’t trust me.” (‘Oh, that makes sense,’ he thought. ‘But how powerful are you then, anyway?’)

Honestly, Sanford finds great enjoyment in listening to you discuss what you’ve done for the past centuries, but even better, you had also told him that he had been the first to ask about your past and get an actual answer from you (which made him feel weirdly giddy). He was the first person you opened up to in this way, and he took it as both a privilege and a sign that you two were closer, perhaps even more than the others were with you. It was him who’d managed to break your carefully-crafted shell, after all.

He’s extremely curious about your abilities too, but he doesn’t ask very much about them compared to your past, preferring to just observe when you’re willing to show them off. He thinks it would be overstepping; he loves finding out more about you, but he doesn’t want to get too greedy with it. (You might even be uncomfortable with that, and the last thing Sanford wants is for you to feel that way around him.)

This doesn’t stop him from openly staring when you use them, however, attention completely focused on you when your form shifts, warping into something objectively horrifying, yet captivating at the same time. He knows that he should probably feel terrified by the sadistic look on your face and the almost feral glint in your eyes, and the oppressive aura you have when you unleash your true power, but he isn’t. How could he be, when it was you who he saw creating such carnage? You, whom he loved and revered above all else, who had worked to protect him and keep him from harm? If anything, your power was a testament to how worthy you were of being their Player. He couldn’t help but feel safe around you, knowing that the overwhelming might you had would only be used to harm your mutual enemies.

Now, what remained was the need to grow more skilled himself to show you that he was deserving to be at your side (where he belonged). So you’d accept him and his limitless affection, so you’d never part, for the rest of your eternal life and his finite one.

- [DEIMOS] -

Deimos handles your vampirism a lot more casually than you’d first expect. He asks a bunch of questions, of course, but they’re not really related to specific things like how your clan works, or the history of vampiric society and how it runs. (Something you’re grateful for at this point; it’s not like it was very easy to present common things that had centuries of complex history behind them time and time again.)

Instead, he asks about pop culture and how accurate it is, and he’s immensely surprised by what actually is true. This includes your weird inability to cross large bodies of water without help and how garlic can actually hurt weaker vampires, for instance. They’re all things you’ve seen in the media again and again, and it would be tiresome to discuss them if it were with anyone else. However, there’s just something about the childish excitement Deimos has about you that endears you to it enough to make the discussions fun.

He also jokes about it a lot too, making a show of welcoming you into a room like you need verbal permission to enter it, and asking whether they should get you a coffin to sleep in. He even puts on a gaudy Romanian accent sometimes when imitating a stereotypical vampire, and refers to you as “Count.” (Which makes you raise a brow. You knew Dracula.) You try to act above it, stoic even if you play along a little sometimes (like when you outright refuse to enter the room until he invites you). This just makes the feeling of victory all the sweeter for him when he manages to break you, making you crack a genuine smile and laugh.

You return the favor though, teasing him back whenever he says something flirty to you by innocently asking him if he’s always been into older people or if it’s just you. He’s always taken aback by it, which makes it amusing enough. Sometimes you also flirt back, in your own way. (You shot him a charming smile, leaning in close enough to earn a blush from him. “Careful, Deimos; if you tempt me enough, I might turn you just so I can hear that voice of yours forever.” You meant it as a bit of a tease since he had taken to saying things right in your ear because he knew he could get a reaction out of you that way. You failed to recognize that he doesn’t see spending eternity with you as a vampire to be anything close to a bad thing.)

It becomes a frequent thing for you to watch horror movies together too, as well as any film that has supernatural elements. Every so often, Deimos will lean a bit closer to whisper a question about whatever creature is on screen, to which you’ll give an answer. (Turns out werewolves were real in your world, and they did actually have a feud with vampires if the grimace on your face when speaking about them said anything.)

(Soon enough, you might find yourself near to being completely in his lap, since while he does move closer, he won’t actually go back to where he’s sitting. (Prolonged contact with you was too tempting for him to do so.) It’s not like you mind though; his body heat is very cozy, and you savor the new experience of having him so close.)

Like Hank, Deimos is also really excitable about your abilities, except he’s far more direct with it. He’ll openly cheer and praise you when you tear people apart, becoming more animated as you get more and more over the top with your kills. (You also might show off a bit, not gonna lie. It’s nice to have someone praise you instead of screaming or going still from pure fear; it makes your cold, undead heart feel warm for once.)

He also will ask you to try doing specific things with them, just to see if you’re able to. You humor him most of the time; it’s not like there’s any harm in taking down enemies in a fashion he recommends (or shouts out in the middle of the fight, like it’s some kind of special move), and the way his face looks when you decide to show him how you can walk up walls if you want is honestly really funny.

In fact, since you willingly let him see nearly all your “magic” up close, he’s the first to see your more complex shape-shifting too (mainly because you suddenly remember that you can do it, and you know he’d like to see it). Anything from transforming yourself into a swarm of bats (at his request - you just watched another film about Dracula), or a writhing mass of centipedes and other bugs (absolutely disgusting, but fascinating) to even making yourself into a single animal, like a dog. Sometimes you even disappear into his shadow, hiding in plain sight.

He occasionally uses this to sneak you somewhere more private so you can hang out without the others. (They try to do the same, so it’s not like there’s anything wrong with having you all to himself for a while.) You’re fully aware of why he does it, but you go along with it anyway. It’s new to have someone like you so much they don’t want to share you with anyone else, or at least, new to people you didn’t have a blood bond with.

While it was a relatively small effect, something you also showed him was how you could make all of your teeth sharp - exactly like his. (For a moment, when he peered into your mouth to see the sharp points, he wondered whether any kids you might have would inherit his grin or yours. He quickly snapped himself out of this intrusive thought the moment he became aware of it - it’s not like he knew if such a thing was even possible, and he didn’t even think he wanted children, to begin with. But it didn’t stop the red from suddenly painting his face, earning a look of interest from you. You blinked, lips curving in an amused grin. Oh, that’s right. He didn’t know you could read minds yet.)

Although, sometimes you regret telling him about your more nonlethal abilities, because he frequently asks you if you'll try them on him. It honestly makes you wonder if grunts just have the lowest levels of self preservation possible, because no one concerned about their own safety would just ask a vampire to control their mind or envelop them in the unstable mass of souls they had “just to see what it it’s like” (his actual words). Then again, Deimos was actually the first to ask about your rather strict diet, and the first to openly offer himself to you if you wanted to feed on him, so perhaps there was some merit to this theory.

However, he never gets annoyed with you for any rejections over his ideas, which (given how egotistical vampires are) is a breath of fresh air. Plus, keeping you happy was always his main priority anyway. You never feel any pressure to do anything from him, which makes you more at ease. (It's odd; a few months ago, you never imagined yourself being so comfortable with anyone like this - especially not a mortal.)

Deimos is honestly overjoyed at how you willingly show him nearly everything you can do. Being the first to know so much about your abilities (even over Hank) is a huge deal for him, and with how much he mentions it (brags), it's clear just how much he values it. It makes him feel a lot closer to you; the time spent with you going over Nevada's movies and shows combined with the late-night talks about your abilities, the inside jokes you develop, and how close you get when you let him touch you as you change forms, allowing his clawed hands to touch nothing yet everything within the mass of tortured souls you hold. You've let him really see you, more-so than anyone else, at least. Which is exactly what he wants.

He longs to know every side of you, from the human appearance you wear to the horrid beasts you contain. And maybe, with enough time bonding with each other, he'll get the thing he wants most of all: for you to want him too.

He already knows you've got part of his soul, with those drinks you took of his blood. Now all that remained was to become yours in every other way possible.

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unbindingkerberos · 1 month

Text

Preparation

Warning(s): Blood

Author's Note: IM BACK BABY!! Sorry haven't been posting as much was busy with writer's block and personal matters. Nevertheless, I hope you guys enjoy!

Words: 831

Tags: @onehornedbeast @shegetsburned @chadillacboseman @illmetbymoonlight @children-of-epiales @linoleum-ice @scentedcandleibex

------

Marius has never felt pressured to pull a trigger before.

He has done the action countless times that it has integrated into his body. But under the hard gaze of Amarice Locke, all muscle memory vanishes instantaneously. The German shudders tensely and his finger moves to the trigger–

And it hits the target.

Marius lets out a shaky sigh but sucks the air back in once Amarice spoke. “15 seconds…”

“What?”

“It took you at least 15 seconds for you to shoot the target.”

The older woman tuts and crosses her arms. “I would have shot you under five.” Grace and Masaru did not exaggerate when they said Amarice was… well they said a lot about her. Marius didn’t believe it at first but then he saw what they went through. He was just passing by that day when he saw Grace, Masaru, Dominic, Olivier and Mark doing bench presses outside in the middle of a thunderstorm with Amarice on the sidelines holding out an umbrella for Gustave who looked like all the blood had been drained from him.

So when Amarice had offered some shooting practice earlier, Marius was visibly nervous.

“Oh sorry…” Was all Marius managed to muster out. The older woman huffs and gestures for Marius to retry. Marius gulps and does it–

“Again

Again

Again…”

By the last round, Marius’s body is slick with sweat and his grip trembles. Amarice moves to inspect the target, her finger traces the outline of each individual bullet hole with keen inspection. “Not bad..” The look she gives Marius is enough for him to start internally panicking and deciphering the strange emotion behind that look.

But unfortunately, he didn’t decipher the punch that sent him to the floor. Marius groans in pain, muttering curses in his native tongue as he tries to lift himself up. He tastes iron in his mouth and realizes the blood trickling down his nose.

“You should be more alert.” Amarice cracks some knuckles. She offers a hand for Marius to which he hesitantly takes. The older woman pulls him up only to sweep him off his feet. “What did I say?”

“That I should…. Be… more..” Marius pants. “Alert…?” Amarice sighs and spares him a stern glance. “Get up.” Marius does not want to get up and at the same time he wants to. His legs feel like a stack of cards as he stands. Amarice moves to jab her knee in his stomach, but the German anticipates the attack and blocks her knee. He swings his fist forward only for the older woman to headbutt him in his already leaking nose.

The pain was electrifying and Marius could feel tears welling up in his eyes. He staggers back, droplets of blood make small spots on the floor. Marius notices Amarice too reeling away, a noticeable bruise in her right cheek.

“Why?”

Amarice’s eyes flicker to Marius. “Why are you doing this? Why did you ask me to come here?” The older woman feels her throat run dry when she answers, “So that when you see Henry again, you’ll know how to kick his ass.”

–

An infectious dread makes Marius’s stomach sink to the bottom. The news spreads like wildfire throughout the base: Deimos has been captured and is being brought back to HQ from Emerald Plains.

Had it not been for Julien’s quick reaction, from what he heard, Fisher would have died and Deimos would have gotten away. He should be feeling happy that the man who killed Harry, who lit the fuze to the fire was in chains.

But…

He wondered among the Keres in Deimos’s squad, was he part of the dead?

Marius closes his eyes and buries the thought. He glances down at the shuffling in his pocket and silences with a tap. If you are still here, then he might be too.

–

It’s done. Proceed to the second phase.

He snaps the phone shut and turns to the Keres behind him. They stand tall and firm, ready to obey their commander. He clasps their hands together.

“Listen up–”

His footsteps echo as he strides towards them. “Keres-01 Actual has been detained by RAINBOW as according to plan.” The screen flickers alive with Deimos’s picture and his coordinates. “It is expected that in a few days he will be taken to a black site where all RAINBOW operators will gather.” Pictures of various operators pop up in the screen. “We go in silently, then when the moment comes–” he snaps and the Leeches around the room glow in an ominous red– “shoot as many ducks as you’ll like.”

The Keres pump their fists in the air and yell, before they spread out and prepare themselves for the upcoming battle. His eyes wander back to the screen just in time for Marius’s picture to come up.

He fights that primal urge in his body to reach out. He balls his fists to the side.

And Henry wears his mask.

#rainbow six siege #rainbow six oc #r6 oc #henry babel adler #r6 oc babel #amarice locke #amarice patriot locke #r6s jager #last bit is inspired by a theory where Deimos let RAINBOW capture him so he can gather all the ops so he can ambush them

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miras-ash · 1 year

Text

I finished the translation of my mini Oneshot and here it is. Disclaimer: My grammar is total trash and I bet some words are wrong, too. I tried my best and I hope you're all still able to understand anything😅

Freezing night air flows into the room through the open window, only the moon enlights the room in pale light which makes the already bleak room seem even more loveless. The steady beeping of the hospital equipment to which she is connected has become a familiar sound in my head, almost as if it had always been there.

A shiver runs through my exhausted body and pulls me back to reality. Here I am, once again in a hospital. One too many times in a damn place like this. I saw too many beloved people hurt or worse; die. I should be used to it but how can someone get used to it to see family and friends suffering.

A lump forms in my throat and I have to swallow, again tears run down my face. My gaze falls to my side, to the bed next to me, the bed in which the woman lies I love the most. Eliza.

The last weeks I have spent only at her side and nothing and no one could have stopped me. How could I leave her after I already failed to protect her.

It was Deimos plan, his bomb but I was the one who found the location for the "Nighthaven armory deal", I stumbled into his trap and yet she's the one who payed for it. That's not fair, it should be me lying here fighting for my life, not her. If I could I would take her place without hesitation. All I can do is stay at her side and hold her hand as she becomes weaker and weaker, as her life drains away with every breath.

The doctors have given her time, more than enough. I know that myself. But I had hope, a small part of me still have to this very moment and yet here I am to say goodbye.

I know Eliza wouldn't approve seeing me here like this, she would tell me to carry on as usual, to fight, that she's not worth it but I can't. She's the fighter who never gives up, not me....

I'm no doctor but even I can see on the small ECG monitor that her heartbeat is getting slower and weaker. I want to look away, don't want to see it, don't want to hear it, just don't want it to be true.

I put my forehead in front of hers, the tears from before have become an uncontrolled torrent and wet Eliza's pale face.

I know it's happening, but I don't want it to happen. I am so afraid. Of waking up every morning in a world without her, of king to work without an Eliza Cohen rushing through my office door and shit talking about something, of going to sleep at night without feeling her warmth, of having to "live" my life without ever being complete again.

"Liza, my poppy flower, my fire, my heart. Don't you dare to ever forget how much I love you because I will never. The next time you wake up we will be separated but I hope you know that I would never leave you and I know one day we'll meet again, no matter where no matter how. I will find you in any universe at any time. I am your spirit, your fallen angel." A sob escapes me before my voice fails completely.

One last time my fingers stroke her soft red hair, her cheeks, her mouth and one very last time our lips meet and for a moment everything feels normal, that familiar feeling of her closeness, her smell, just her.

"Goodbye"

#r6 ash #rainbow six siege #ash #eliza cohen #mira x ash #tom clancy #mira #r6s mira #elena alvarez #ash x mira #mirash #r6 ship #oneshot #fanfic

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mafiacaedes · 17 days

Note

“ i can stay, if you want. ” [ deimos and... alayna because she would say it like that. ]

@stcllata

Deimos looks up and huffs, draining his glass before shoving to his feet and moving over to pour another. Ares had decided it was time for Deimos to return home. He had of course, refused, and now it was boiling over and he and Apollo had gotten hurt in a fight. Alayna was just attempting to help, but his control was currently... tenuous. At best.

"No need, really. This is my life now, and everyone around me is a target. I appreciate the thought, but it's probably for the best you don't stick around, love."

#Deimos Answers #Ok #Apparently he's moody #I have a feeling she'll set him straight though lmao

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arisunakayama · 2 years

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OKAY, so like… what about Deimos x Vampire Reader?

I don’t mean normal vampires but the rave vampires from M:PN Arena Mode! Both of them have sharp teeth, so why not? Heh.

Trying to juggle this and military work life is BOTHERSOME. Especially when out in the field bruh 😩😩. Still gonna do it anyways. :)

[DEIMOS X VAMPIRE!GANG!READER]

[HOW YOU TWO MEET]

If Deimos had any chance of meeting you, it’d probably being during a mission where he had gotten separated from Sanford in the city.

He knew he was in deep shit considering the agents from the AAHW were right on his trail shooting at him through the alleyways.

Eventually he does get them off his back by killing a few of them. Now all he had to do was find his way back out.

Deimos would navigate through the alleyway, trying to retrace his steps from where he had even run from. It would frustrate him to no end to where he wouldn’t notice the neon glowing light that would follow him through the shadows

He would try to navigate through the alleyways only to hear a strangled cry from around the corner.

Deimos would go and investigate, peeking around the corner with his gun loaded.

He would flinch from seeing someone wearing clothes with bright neon (f/c) lights draining the blood out of an AAHW agent. Specifically one that was following him.

Deimos would watch as the agent’s hands one cling onto you, desperately trying to push you away before falling limp due to blood loss.

You ended up catching sight of him after you retracted your fangs away from the now dead agent. Your hands up showing that your weren’t going to attack.

Mostly due to recognizing him as one of Nevada’s most wanted and didn’t really want any trouble.

You could tell he was uneasy considering he was pointing his rifle at you. You do end up trying to defuse the situation. Of course that only makes it a bit worse.

Though after a few hours of going back and forth, the two of you do end up relaxing before you end up helping him out with finding a way out of the alleyways.

[HOW YOU ARE AS FRIENDS]

Deimos will actually make time to hang out with you whenever he’s off duty or not hanging out with Sanford.

The two of you will hang out around the city during the night considering that’s when you’re most active

He likes that you don’t really mess with other civilian people and more or less corpo grunts. That mostly being agents from the AAHW or industry that Phobos rules over.

He’d complain to you about how 2BDamned would be an overbearing and dramatic who wouldn’t be able to take a few jokes.

Something that you two do frequently together whenever you hang out together. Hell you’ll even sneak him into the clubs you and your buddies will be at.

Though sometimes they’ll end up breaking into fights if things go wrong. But hey, more fun you thought.

There was a time that you had gotten injured to where it looked as if you died. Deimos was seeing red to where he had missed you just getting back up after recovering from a fatal blow to the head.

“Holy shit I thought you were dead!”

“Why?”

“??? Because you took a big ass blow to your head??”

“Trust me, you’ll know when I’m dead”

He’s also a bit more careful when it comes to his pyro abilities considering you’re not too fond of fire.

Let alone weak to it.

Deimos also likes to ask about your fangs along with many more questions.

“Hey, what’s it like having fangs like that?”

“Ehhh having them surgically attached was weird to get used to, but after a while you get used to it. Kinda like it’s second nature at this point.”

He finds it really cool that you also can turn others into vampires as well with a singular bite.

That’s if you will it though. You usually do it whenever you and Deimos are surrounded by a rival gang or any sort of corpo agent working in the Agencies that he’s working against.

There was a time he did bring Sanford along to introduce you. Sanford was pretty skeptical of you considering your background and who you associate with. But even then, he couldn’t really say much to begin with.

He is happy though that Deimos found another friend like you to hang out with.

[PINING FOR EACH OTHER]

Out if the two i feel like you would probably be the one to realize your feelings for Deimos. Though you would probably act more natural around him other than hanging around him more often along with being more protective of him.

Deimos on the other hand would be confused to why he feels the way towards you. We would try to chalk it up to him just being ill.

Though the more the thought about it, the more that sounded wrong.

In the end he goes to Sanford and asks him about the things he feels about you, only to receive an “are you serious?” Look from Sanford himself.

Sanford ends up having to explain that Deimos might have feelings for you. He tries to deny it for a brief moment.

“You have feelings for (Y/n)”

“Nah that can’t be right, I mean I’m pretty sure that they don’t have feeling for me either. Though I think—“

Sanford grabs him by the shoulders and looks at him straight in the eyes.

“You. Have. Feelings. For. Them.”

“… Holy shit I have feelings for them.”

Though after he comes to terms with them and accepts his feelings for you, he’ll become more flirty than what he originally was before.

And probably a little bit more touchy with you. He also may be a bit more aggressive during battle whenever you do go down for the count.

He doesn’t want to see you combust into flames after all.

The two of you would try to hide your guy’s feelings for one another, but to others. It’s painfully obvious.

So obvious to the point Sanford legitimately had to say it out loud in front of you to finally realize you both had feelings for each other after all.

The two of you finally decide to go on an actual date whenever you guys have the time for it.

[HOW YOU TWO ARE IN A RELATIONSHIP]

The two of would act the same as when you both were friends, except with a whole bunch of pick up lines and flirty comments to each other.

With you, you would be more subtle about it but still would be noticeable enough for Deimos to realize what you just had said.

He would fire back cheesy pick up lines which would end up making you laugh.

Probably would say something about your teeth to which you’d fire back a suggestive comment to where it would probably get Deimos a little too excited.

But that’s for another time. :)

Most of the time the two of you would spend your dates out and about in the city at night.

Though if you two prefer just staying home, he’d mostly be at your place most of the time. Mostly due to the fact 2BDamned still doesn’t trust you.

Probably cause your gang had attacked one of his partnered agency’s founder and had to save them cause there were too many of them for one to handle.

Not only that they just kept getting up blow after blow to where they had to resort to more fatal executions.

You didn’t really hold it against him you knew how annoying you and the Vampire gang could be when fighting off. Neither could Deimos blame him.

The only reason why they don’t mess with him now is cause you were now in a relationship with him. And probably cause you threatened all of them if they had touched him.

He also didn’t like it when he had to come back to the Anti-AAHW whenever he was called back for an up coming mission from 2BDamned. But a job is a job and he needed to do what he needed to do.

He would talk about you a lot to Sanford since he was the only one who would listen to him. Or tolerate him talking about you.

Hank not so much considering he doesn’t really care about the two of them in the first place.

2BDamned would be annoyed with him and tell him to go away and he had better things to do than to listen to him rant on and on about you.

Still Deimos wouldn’t care. If anything he’d probably still do it anyways just to piss off Doc even more.

#madcom x reader #madness combat x reader #deimos x reader #madness combat deimos x reader

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gravedigest · 2 months

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Vaguely in the realm of HNMT.

2BDad things.

Thunderstorm trope.

“Dooooc?”

Sleep is hard to come by, harder to keep ahold of, hardest to let go. In that hazy state, he doesn’t know what’s pulling him away from the sweet comfort of rest.

“Doooooooc! Doc?!”

That’s panic. He hears panic.

He snaps awake.

Bolting up, heart pounding, scanning the room as he reaches for the gun-

“Do-o-oc!”

Deimos.

That’s Deimos.

He darts, all traces of sleep having drained from his body as he unlatches the barricades from the door, ripping it open to see-

To see…

Oh.

Oh, dear.

“What’s wrong?” He has to lower himself to his knees to make it to the same height as the kid, the poor thing’s face drenched in snot an tears, shaking like a leaf.

Thunder crashes, and Deimos nearly jumps out of his own skin, diving to burrow himself into Doc’s coat. Oh. Oh no.

He’s found something his little terror is afraid of.

When the lightning flashes through the cracks of the boarded up window, Doc presses his palms to both of Deimos’ ears, gun clattering to the floor.

It doesn’t help, the kid still jerks and sobs over the sound.

Right. Enhancements.

The wind is howling through the battered building, rain leaking in through the unstable roof, everything shudders as it holds out against the storm. Not the best place for someone’s first thunderstorm.

There’s nowhere to go that’s quieter, no deeper basements to afford safety, but the cubby that constitutes a bathroom doesn’t have windows. He heaves Deimos up and tucks him close, barricading them both in the enclosed space, hunkering down on the edge of the dusty, stained bathtub.

Deimos’ breaths are heaving, his own hand clamped over his ears now, face making a huge, disgusting wet mark that Doc can’t be assed to care about at the moment.

He’ll have quips about it when the storm passes.

For now, he tries to sort out the situation, figure out how to make the crying stop.

He’s been so easy to take care of, like a well trained dog, following Doc around and right on his coattails. The only reason he’d been barricaded in that room was an attempt at some mediocre safety, in case the nearby bandit camp caught wind of their stop. Futile hope that they’d pass up a hard to open box.

Perhaps that was a bad idea.

He can have some bad ideas.

He hasn’t noticed his own anxious rocking, not until Deimos starts to relax a little bit. Right.

“Do you know what’s happening?”

A shake of the head against his shoulder.

“It’s a thunderstorm. When there are a lot of clouds- Like we saw earlier, they…” How does he explain this? “… You know how you made static with your socks?”

“… Mhm.”

“It’s sort of like that. The particles in the clouds are moving, and it creates static. When there’s too much static?

“… Shocks.”

“Right. This? This is how we discovered electricity. It’s a lot of electricity exploding, so that’s why it makes that sound-“

On cue, another clap of thunder undoes all the calm, driving Deimos to crush his ears with his hands. Doc can tell he’s trying not to wail- it breaks through as a whimper. Doc keeps rocking.

“I know it must be very hard when you can hear as well as you do,” What can he do?

Christ, he hopes the temperature drop doesn’t cause a tornado.

Not something to think about right now.

The next clap is closer. It must be right above them.

“It’s moving fast, it’ll be over soon, alright?”

He doesn’t get a word out of the kid, just terrified shaking.

What can he do?

For once, his foresight gives him an answer.

He zips his coat up around the extra body, hefting the kid back up to make a strategic run back through to where he’d dropped his bag, grabbing it up and making a hasty retreat. Back in the safety of the bathroom, he changes his seat to be down in the tub, digging through the bag just long enough to pull his tablet-

And the headset.

Hooking it together in the dark is half a challenge, but- Yes, he checks the sound, then unzips his coat.

“Move your hands,” A rough shake of the head. “Just for a second, if it doesn’t work you can punch me.”

The promise of light violence tends to win Deimos over, but not even that gets him to budge. Doc goes for prying the little hands away instead, getting the headset pressed over his ears in the short, upset wrestle that ensues.

Deimos pauses.

… He’s heard music before, hasn’t he?

Doc’s too tired to recall, on the edge of pulling the headset off the moment Deimos shows distaste.

But the kid presses the cans closer to his ears instead, the next roll of thunder disguised in the sounds.

Alright.

Alright…

He leans them both back, the lumpy bag works well enough as a pillow, the kid a little furnace on his own. It’s not comfortable whatsoever, Doc’s back is going to be in agony when they have to move in the morning, but this…

Deimos’ shaking calms, reduced to sniffling and kneading his hands as he works out the panic, calming down.

It’ll work.

#Doc just drags Deimos with him when he exits the agency and thunderstorm happens?#I am having a hard time sleeping and I’m listening to Space Song by Beach House.#Does this count as more cuddling?#GD don’t write affection challenge: impossible.#Likely OOC but but but but but #Drabble

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jaehaerysiitargaryen · 10 months

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| a banter length starter for @deimos-velaryon | | settings: as the small council clears out in their highgarden setting, jaehaerys has a remarkable moment of immaturity|

“Your wife is quite ugly, cousin. Like your sisters.”

Jaehaerys looked at Deimos and smiled at him, it was the briefest and most mischievous smile he could muster for the other. When he was a child he spent a lot of his time following around the other when the family gathered under the demands of their king. And he used to admire him until there was a hatred for the house seeded in him by his grandmother. Jaehaerys didn’t know if he hated Deimos. Some times he felted trapped in that place where the Prince was seven and the other 10 and 7, he felt as though things didn’t change no matter how much they did. Now, it was true, he thought his cousin married an ugly woman because the only attractive Swann was Wyllam and that confused him to the point of anger.

“What does she look like when she’s not so painted? Perhaps she looks much like she looks now. And in that case I offer you the same rock my uncle Daemon used in the Vale.”

And once again, he smiled before draining the arbor gold from his goblet. This was fun.

#c: deimos #deimos002

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cyanogen-miasma · 3 months

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anyways following on from my last post I would like to introduce

The Space Cats

I have done the sun, the eight planets, the five undoubtedly confirmed dwarf planets and some choice moons. I have a WIP file for Ganymede somewhere but I'm on my phone right now so I can't get to it

each star system is like a big family, with the star as the parent and the generationality is determined by who orbits who. all the planets, dwarf planets and asteroids are siblings and their children are their moons. this gets weird for Pluto and Charon, I still have to figure out what their dynamic is, but overall, relationships within the same solar system are solely familial. I have to clarify this because someone on Scratch dot mit dot edu did decide to start shipping the space cats (I will have to find that comment thread, it was wild)

the Sun, otherwise known in the Space Cats universe as Sol (he/him). (I tried to lose a lot of the geo-centric names for some of the astronomical bodies - IE, there are lots of Suns in the universe, our Sun isn't THE Sun, if you get what I mean.) A fun guy, a little too desperate to get with other Stars, if you ask his kids

Mercury (they/them). Boy I would love to see them and Element Cat Mercury interact. (who am I kidding. I own both characters. I can do that) They are an oblivious little guy with a big imagination.

Venus (she/her). A dapper, sassy and hot-tempered gal who is always uncomfortably warm

Earth. The big E. Terra. Gaia. Home. In the Space Cats universe, her name is Tellus (she/her and he/him). Now, I drew this picture a while ago and I don't necessarily agree with how I characterized him here. Tellus is grouchy and sleepy, and only really has patience with her daughter. He has a lot of insecurities about his form because it keeps changing all the time in ways that she cannot predict. Changes to the planets' atmospheres don't make them sick, but he can see the green draining off his fur and that fucking terrifies him.

The Moon, known in the Space Cats universe as Lune (she/her). She is full of energy and loves new things. She is always happy to inspect Tellus's new growths, but is not really aware of how uncomfortable it makes him. Lune was formed from a traumatic event in which Tellus and the protoplanet Theia collided with each other. Theia was destroyed, but was reformed into Lune. Tellus is haunted by this event and sees Theia whenever she looks at her daughter, but tries to shield her from his anguishes because he loves her

Mars (he/him). edgelord. His villain arc is becoming frigid and void of life while Tellus has his moment in the Sun. A catty bitch who loves to gossip. He is jealous and can hold a grudge.

Deimos (he/him) on the left and Phobos (they/them) on the right. Mars's chaos gremlins. He didn't ask for them, they just showed up one day and he cannot get rid of them. Deimos is a feral child who will attack you, and Phobos is a no-thoughts-head-empty child who will watch you while Deimos attacks you. Mars complains to Ceres about how annoying they are, but really, he loves them, and lets them go on with their shenanigans.

Ceres (she/her). a little kitty with a big personality. She is plucky and can stand up for herself. She makes herself heard even when surrounded by massive cats like Jupiter and Saturn. The heart and soul of the asteroid belt. A queen, if I do say so myself.

Jupiter (he/him). The big brother. Everyone admires him and looks up to him for advice. He is flamboyant and charismatic, if not a bit self-centred, but ultimately, his heart is big enough to contain love for himself and everyone in the solar system. As you can see with Metis (she/her), he carries smaller moons in his fur.

Saturn (they/them). Look at that swag. oops! it's dead children. probably. Going off the theory that Saturn's rings were formed from a moon that broke apart under Saturn's gravity, this is the lore. They had lots of moons that they loved dearly, but eventually found them ill. "What's wrong?" "we are being torn apart." They were crushing their moons under the force of their smothering love and it broke them apart. As the debris coalesced into chains around them, Saturn vowed that this would never happen again. They distance themselves from their moons, much to their annoyance, and keep their rings as a reminder of what happens when they get too close to people.

#space #astronomy #planets #cats #space cats #lineless art #mercury #venus #earth #mars #the sun #the moon #phobos #deimos #ceres #jupiter #saturn #artists on tumblr

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r6shippingdelivery · 1 year

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WIP Wednesday Monday!

I was tagged almost a week ago by the always wonderful @simonxriley, thanks 💜 Sorry for the delay, but I was busy with irl work and other stuff, and this weekend I finally could spend some time writing, hooray!

Tagging: @bl-beater @parragone @grain-crain-drain @krya-unv and anyone who wants to share their WIP (art or fanfic or crafts or anything you want!)

Sooo... before seeing this year's CGI cinematic, I was working on a fic where Redhammer goes to stop a delivery of NH weaponry and they get ambushed instead and... well, you see how I was both a bit amused and put off by the similarities. And started doubting if to keep going with my idea or, since I was already working with the lore, mold it to fit better the CGI narrative and turn it into an expansion of what we already saw. In the end, I decided to carry on with my idea (cause Deimos said NH weaponry is scary, but we never saw anything special on screen, just assault rifles. I'm bringing that "oh shit" factor):

"Thermite, there's a killer robot on the loose," he informed through the comms, sucking a pained breath when Tachanka, for some reason, touched his left thigh. Kapkan distractedly pushed his hand away, too focused on the conversation to pay attention. "It fires at anything that moves."

"A what?! Fucking Nighthaven, man," Thermite sighed, and Kapkan understood the feeling very well. "Okay everyone, if you see the robot, do not engage."

Fuze chimed in, but Kapkan didn't hear what he said because Tachanka was once again putting pressure on the hunter's leg, making him hiss in pain. At last, he looked to see what he was doing, and saw his trouser leg was getting drenched in blood. The pressure he felt turned out to be Tachanka trying to apply a makeshift tourniquet to slow down the bleeding. As much as Kapkan wanted to insist he could do that himself, in truth it worked better if someone else did it. More so because Tachanka was strong enough to tighten the belt until it felt like it would saw off his thigh. It was uncomfortable and slightly painful, but it was better than bleeding freely.

Right then, Thermite’s voice cut through the background noise of the several voices arguing through the comms. “Enough! We’re all getting out of the building, unseen. We contain the robot inside. And then Fuze can blow it up with his cluster charges.”

#rainbow 6 siege #r6s #rainbow six siege

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lilyyourlocalsimp · 8 months

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(Yandere) Hank x (Vampire) Player

I will be doing one of these for Deimos, Sanford, and 2BDamned as well (Or at least I plan on doing so once I figure out what to write) so you’ve got that to look forward to.

So, this will have an au (Or whatever you’d like to call it, I’m just calling it that because I don’t what else to call it) that was created by saltymongoose (which I recommend you read their stuff because it is amazing) Where the characters are yandere but, I’m going to begin using the one where the player is a vampire.

But before we start..(somewhat) Dominate reader?!?!!!! 😲

But it's great that one of the songs I was listening to while writing this was My Vampire by Sohodolls, like that's perfect.

Anyways- any of you who might be reading this that have a biting kink and/or like orgasm denial and bondage(I don't even think I can call it that since it's handcuffs and not rope but..whatever I guess…) you might like this :)

(Which I hope you do)

You were hungry and decided to feed on Hank so here you were, sitting on his lap as you sucked blood out of him. And so far all that was happening was the usual. His claws dug into your hips and pressed you up against him as he let out moans groans, as well as an occasional whine while you drained him of his precious (and delicious) blood.

And while you were basically completely calm Hank on the other hand was in complete bliss, eyes and mind clouded with nothing but lust and adoration as you pulled your fangs from his neck only to sink them back into it in a different spot. You occasionally placed some bloodied kisses on his neck and nipped at the edges of old bites when you were done with new ones, which only made him desire more.

More of your bites, more of your touch, more of everything, he wants everything you have to offer. He just wants you so bad, and he’d do anything if it meant you’d love him, even if it’s only a fraction of how much he loves you. In his eyes it’s more than worth it. But he was soon pulled out of his daze when he felt your canines being pulled out of his flesh.

And instead of what he expected (And hoped for) which was for you to sink your teeth into his skin once again but instead you licked the bites then got off of his lap. Or well, you tried to. He pulled you right back into his lap and gripped your waist as he looked down at you, still trying to calm down from the high you and your biting had given him.

You looked at him with a raised brow, confused about why he had pulled you back into his lap. You were done, weren't you? Well you thought at least, that kind of thought process wasn’t shared by Hank though, because you might be done but he isn’t.

“Follow me.”

follow him? Why would he want you to follow him?

Despite your confusion you did as he said, disappearing into his shadow (As you would normally do whenever Hank or one of the others wanted to spend time with you without anyone knowing) and followed him to wherever he had led you. Which happened to be his room. It made sense since this was a place you two would go to whenever you want to be alone.

You walked and reappeared after he closed the door, Your eyes following him when he walked over to his bed and sat down. Once he had gotten comfortable, he looked at you then pat his lap.

“Lap. Now.”

You did as he said and sat on his lap, leaning your head to the side to give Hank more access to your neck when he started to affectionately nibble on your neck. (I mean it was only fair, you've bitten him more times than you could count so why not let him do the same? Well, his bites might not break skin like yours did but still.)

His nipping turned into harsh biting but it wasn't enough to cause you that much pain to the point where you'd have to stop him and tell him to be gentler, so you let him continue. Your attention was caught when you felt Hank's grip on your waist and upper thigh tighten, holding you close to him as he grinds against you. (your heart might've started beating if it weren't for the fact that it had stopped centuries ago.)

Not long after he started to take off his clothes as well as yours, not wanting to waste any time and be inside you already. (What did you expect? The amount of times you've purposefully riled him up left him pent up and desperate. I mean sure he could just masturbate yeah, but it's just not the same as your touch no matter how hard he tries to imagine it.)

But once he finished stripping you of your last few pieces of clothing, you stopped him. Pushing him down, making him lay on his back. And now that you've done that he noticed something in your hand..handcuffs? (Where'd you get those? Who knows, maybe you had them on you for some reason or you found them in his room? I'll leave that for you to decide.)

You handcuffed his hands to the headboard, you were a little surprised that he allowed you to do that but I guess if it's you he'll let you do anything you want. You then started to jerk him off, getting him close to cumming just to stop suddenly.

A whine leaving him each time you did that, why can't you just let him cum already? He struggled against the handcuffs, desperately wanting to get them off. And as you were about to continue teasing him, you heard something snap. Oh shit…Hank broke the chain of the handcuffs.

He immediately grabbed you and switched your position, now being on top of you. He then started kissing your neck, slowly moving down until he reached your legs. He kissed and bit your inner thighs before turning his attention to your pussy, grabbing your thighs and looking up at you. It seems like he's…asking for permission?

You assumed that's what he was doing so you nodded your head and he wasted no time and immediately started to eat you out. And dear god you tasted so. fucking. good. Your hand rushed down to grab his head, tugging at his bandana and pushing his face into your pussy as your thighs started to squeeze his head once one of his hands started to grip the sheet while the other moved up to your hips.

After a while you finally came and Hank pulled away, licking your cum off of his face and leaning forward to whisper in your ear.

"You taste so fucking good sweetheart, and I can't wait to see what it feels like to be inside you."

He then positioned himself and slowly entered you, letting out a low groan as he did so. (he was fighting demons to not just start railing you until you reach your limit and start begging him to stop, but didn't despite wanting to so badly. He wants you to be at least a little prepared before he does.) After a few seconds he looked into your eyes.

"A-are you ready?" "Yes, I'm..I'm ready. You can start moving."

And he did exactly that, starting to thrust in and out slowly. Trembling as he started to pick up the pace a bit and burying his face into your neck, moaning when you started to claw at his back. The slight pain from your nails digging into his back and drawing blood along with the pleasure making the experience even better. He felt his cock twitch as he heard you moan and his thrusting was becoming desperate as well as frantic, getting close to cumming and wanting to hear you moan more.

Hank bit your neck, thrusting into you one more time before finally cumming. You moaned loudly as you came too, eyes rolling back and nails digging deeper into his back while your body shook. Hank then wrapped his arms around you, kissing you on your jaw and trailing down all the way to your collarbone then back up.

"I love you..Hank."

Hank smiled after hearing that and hugged you tighter. (Though you couldn't see it obviously, but the loud purring was enough of a sign to show that he was happy)

"I love you too."

I FINALLY finished this after 29 fucking days 😭 so I hope y’all enjoyed it because 1. It took me forever to finish this and 2. I genuinely love this and think it’s fantastic so I hope you think the same

#hank j wimbleton #madness combat #fanfic #yandere madness combat #vampire

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