this spiralled out of control i apologise. beck's head will clear in 3, 2, 1-
masterlist
tw vampire whumper, suggestive stuff, mind control, threat of death, threat of murder, lots of threats in general, power dynamics, intimate whumper, murder mention
"Oh, I do love it here." Helle stretched out on the king sized bed while Beck was left to stand in the bedroom door, silently fuming. That was his bed, and his room, and his home. "Thank you for asking."
"I didn't," he said quietly, a show of ridiculous defiance he seldom afforded himself. But his home was being turned into a fucking vampire den! Helle went and looked at his treasured family photos, his decorations, touched all his possessions, all while he could do nothing but sit on the sofa and wait for them to leave.
And then they came back. Again. And again. And again. Because they could, and because this was now their new favourite hangout spot; ever since the fucking date night.
"No, I think you did." They gave him a look, a warning, one that Beck always felt compelled to heed. Not this time. He thought he had enough pent up anger to be a little disobedient, so he steeled his nerves and decided to speak up. Well, about as well as a mouse would've against the neighbourhood cat.
"You– you're being... very unfair," he said slowly, forcing out the words one by one, considering each one before committing to it. That wasn't what he'd wanted to say, of course. But he somehow had to repackage his... more blunt sentiments. "And, and you can do that, you can absolutely be as horrible to me as you want. I can't... I can't do anything about it. But I don't want to play along today."
Helle's expression turned playful, and they rolled over to one side of the bed, petting the other as an invitation. Beck wanted to explode when he saw his own fucking bed being offered back to him at a price — a very steep price at that. He didn't want to be anywhere near the fucking vampire.
"Oh, come on," they insisted when he didn't move. He just shook his head.
"Please, get off my bed. You're– you're in your street clothes, and you're rolling around on my blanket that I use after I've showered and I'm clean–"
"Oh, is that the issue?" they asked with a mischievous smile, glancing down at their clothes. "If it is, we can definitely remedy–"
"It's not! It's– it's one of many issues!" he snapped, his little outburst startling him more than it did Helle. "S-sorry. I– just, please, get off."
"You know, sometimes I like it when you get mad at me. Even beyond just the entertainment factor. Because, you see... you are so bland on the surface, but whenever you get angry, it is almost like... I can tell there is something more there."
Bland? What kind of backhanded compliment was that? Or was it just an insult? Beck was so caught off guard that he couldn't even respond before Helle had already moved on, petting the bed again.
"Now, do get over here before I lose interest and just start snapping some bones for fun."
He swallowed, the memory of Helle holding his wrist in their hand and cheerily explaining how easily they could break it seeping back into the forefront of his mind and making his legs move of their own accord. "I said I was sorry," he tried as he carefully lowered himself onto his bed like it was a minefield.
"Yes, I know. And more often than not, I am also fine playing along. But not today, right? Today we are brave and honest."
He hated the way they said that. He had no idea what stupid game they had in mind that required them both on the same bed, but he was starting to get increasingly nervous about it — while Helle easily propped themself up on their elbow, lying on their side, looking at him excitedly like they were at a sleepover.
"I want you to tell me what you actually think. Of me, of spending the night with a vampire, with the specific vampire who has been so mean to you. I want to hear it."
"Wh- what?"
"It is painfully obvious that you are holding back. An understandable choice. But now I want you to just say it. Tell me something absolutely vile."
"I, I don't... I... no, but this, this is what I mean, this is unfair, how can you even– you, you could hurt me so badly," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Is that an invitation?" They raised their free hand before he could answer, cutting him off. "I know, I know. It is not. Not yet, anyway. But very well, if you will not share of your own volition, you shall share under enthrallment."
Beck sat up immediately, his urge to get away suddenly unbearable. "No! No, you said you wouldn't, you said you wouldn't use it!"
"I will if I have to," they cooed. "Or you can just tell me."
"I... will I be punished for this?" he asked hesitantly.
"Oh, Beck, stop being such a coward for one second. Indulge. I can tell you my most depraved thoughts about you in exchange, if–"
"No. No, I, I don't think I want to hear any of that."
"Well, I might tell you anyway. But for now, let me hear your honest opinion."
He didn't want to be enthralled. Now that he was so focused on it, he could already feel it creeping closer and closer at the edges of his consciousness, poking and prodding and gently pushing him to just do it. He knew it could turn vicious at any moment, seizing the information by violently ripping it from his mind against his will.
"I hate you," he said in a shaky little voice, ruining weeks of fantasies of himself yelling these words at the vampire. "I, I hate everything about you, everything that reminds me of you, I hate feedings, I hate you being here, I hate you touching me and my things and, and bringing who knows what into my house, you're ruining my life, I– I wish–" He cut himself off, and Helle pushed further into his mind, forcing the words out of his mouth without his consent. "I wish you had been buried with a stake in your heart back whenever you died. I wish I was there, seeing it through, I wish I could've done it. Hell, you're the only reason I keep a stake in my home, you're the only vampire I ever imagine killing, but I imagine it often and in great detail. I am thoroughly fucking disgusted by you, and I truly wish you were dead and rotting somewhere."
Their hold on him suddenly disappeared, and he was left with the knowledge of what he'd just told Helle to their face. He couldn't run away. He couldn't defend it. He couldn't explain it away. All he could do was sit there and watch them process all of it, hoping that whatever punishment this warranted, he could negotiate it to be a little lighter.
He had never realised just how terrifying a concept enthrallment was. He had been spoiled before, continually presented with choices he thought were impossible... but no, impossible felt completely different. It was his mind being effortlessly taken over and toyed with, it was being helpless, completely helpless against it.
"Okay," Helle said after a while, plopping down onto their back. "Bring your stake and get it over with."
"What..?"
"If you do not comply with this order, I will find the stake and drive it through your heart."
Beck almost fell off the bed in his haste to grab the stake from the drawer of his nightstand, clutching it in his hands uncertainly as he turned back to see Helle still lying on their back, docile as ever. They didn't make a single move to stop him as he reluctantly inched closer.
"You– you wouldn't actually let me," he stammered, and they shrugged.
"You are not going get a better chance."
Well... that much was true. And yet, all he did was kneel there on the bed with a stake in his hand and stare at the vampire.
"You know, from the amount of family photo albums I have flipped through, I could easily find and recognise your mother. Or your brother, really. I wonder whether they would be any more fun, or this particular brand of blandness runs in your family." They looked up at him with a coy smile. "I might just go find out for myself after I've staked you."
There weren't many things Beck was as fiercely protective of as his family. Rage bubbled up in his chest with every word Helle uttered, and he instantly moved to straddle their waist, raising the stake high above his head. He had a clear shot. Helle wasn't defending themself. They were telling him that only one of them was going to leave this room alive, and that if it was them, they would slaughter the rest of his family.
And yet... now that he was actually here, on top of the vampire who had been tormenting him, the thought of killing them was intimidating. It wasn't even killing, all he was doing was sending them back where they belonged! But... but what vampire would take over their territory? Would those vampires grab him too? Would they immediately enthrall him, pump him full of venom, leave him to die? Did he... did he really hate Helle that much..?
He shook his head a little, trying to get rid of the thoughts. This had to be the lingering effects of the enthrallment he'd read about. He did hate them, he hated them more then anything, he wanted them dead, properly, permanently dead. And yet his body wouldn't comply. He wasn't a murderer. He just... he couldn't...
Beck flinched and almost dropped the stake when Helle suddenly moved, trailing their fingers up his thighs, over his hips and onto his waist. He lowered his hands to push theirs away, but they were faster, grabbing him by the wrists and tugging his hands over to their chest. The point of the stake was now right above their unbeating heart, mere inches away from killing them; and they looked up at him with the same calm as always, almost– fond, or... or...
"You could do it now," they whispered, not letting him pull his hands back even if he wanted to. "All those mean, condescending insults, all that pain from feedings, all the ruined date nights, all that frustration from having to tolerate a leech like me in your home... gone."
"I can't," he whispered back, trying to blink away tears of shame. He just couldn't. His life was on the line. His family's life. And he couldn't.
"Why?"
He shook his head again. Maybe he didn't fully know, maybe he just didn't want to talk about it. Maybe he felt like he could just say no now that he was holding a stake to their heart.
"I thought you hated me."
"I do." His hands were shaking badly, worse by the second as Helle slowly worked his fingers loose from the stake. "But I– I don't know what would happen afterwards. And I don't want to kill anybody–"
"I'm already dead, Beck."
"I know." He let them take the stupid piece of wood, the one he now knew he'd never actually get to use because of his own cowardice. He yelped when Helle suddenly flipped their positions, settling comfortably between his legs and putting the pointed end of the stake against his heart.
"I let you do this because I thought it would be a nice little lesson," they said easily, almost pleasantly, no doubt enjoying the way he trembled under them. "I knew you would not be able to do it. At least I was confident enough. Of course, had you tried, I would have simply stopped you... but you did not even try."
There was no trace of fear in their voice or on their face from having been so close to death, nor was there a single tremor that would've run through their hands as they threatened someone with a very much lethal weapon. This wouldn't have been their first kill; nor their first death, for that matter. Beck stifled a little whimper at the thought.
"Whether you admit it or not, you love to hate me. You love to point to me and say I am the source of your problems, you love to fantasise about my death being the end of your misery, but you know it is not true. You love knowing that you do not have to fear vampires out at night anymore, aside from the one you already know. One that is, quite frankly–"
"Spoiling me," he blurted out, and their smile widened.
"Yes. Spoiling you. No magic. No quick and easy scrambling of your fragile, human mind. You love to think I am strict and cruel, because it makes you feel better about the world. You love to think I am the worst of it. But you know it is not true."
"I do, now." He could hear the blood rushing in his ears as he stared up at the murderous being so close to killing him, and he dared hope they wouldn't. Because he knew them, and they knew him, and he dared hope that in itself was enough to keep him from dying tonight.
"I killed my sire like this." They sounded nostalgic, as though they were recalling their most pleasant memories. "There is something... quite special about staking someone. Forcing a piece of wood between their ribs, piercing their heart... I do love doing it. It is quite... intimate."
Beck felt the point be driven further into his skin, nestling between strands of the fabric in his shirt and drawing blood underneath. Maybe he wouldn't have been able to drive it through someone's chest without any momentum. Helle was definitely more than capable.
He held his breath, waiting for his death as the vampire watched the droplet of blood soak a small circle of red into his pristine shirt. Then they threw the stake aside, grabbing a hold of his wrist instead. "But if I staked you tonight, how would I ever turn you into my adoring little vampire servant? No, I am afraid that will have to wait." They kissed the inside of his wrist, and Beck shivered, bracing himself for the bite that would come as a direct result of his own incompetence. "But I am very pleased that this honesty hour has brought us a bit closer together."
~
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