#that it that the last Vlad sin of the year | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hannahmanderr · 8 months

Text

Nuclear Fusion ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Fright Knight, Vlad, and Danny learn what it means to make a life-altering decision. Decisions that may change the tide of battle without them even knowing. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If there was anything granted to him through his servitude that the Fright Knight loathed, it was his command over the thrall armies.

The armies had existed as long as him, if not longer. Not all rulers he’d served had used them, but they were always available as a tool for whomever sat on the throne. Of course, ultimate authority over the thralls rested with the throne, but the Fright Knight too was an extension of the throne and its will. Thus, the authority over the armies came inherent with his existence.

The thralls were little more than mindless drones. Enemies of the throne damned to an existence of suffering in servitude. Only the king - or a direct agent of the king - could inflict such a punishment.

For centuries, the Fright Knight had no qualms over this. It was simply the way it worked. He held little sympathy for the souls condemned to service in the army. After all, if they were an enemy of the throne, they were an enemy of his. And the punishment was to be reserved only for the vilest of fiends. The ones truly deserving of such a fate.

Then came the reign of Pariah Dark.

The tyrant king was ruthless. As he ravaged realms, he too ravaged the lives of those in the realms. No one was immune to the Endless Death, as it had become to be known. Innocent and guilty alike, souls were reaped into the armies in droves.

Many of which the Fright Knight had been forced to reap himself.

And so as he walked through the halls of the Keep, as he passed by legion after legion of thralls amassing themselves into formation, he was forced to relive the sins that dirtied his hands. The sins that dirtied his existence. He was forced to look into the eyes of those he’d condemned, to gaze into the reflection of the perversion of his role.

Yes. He would forever loathe this command. This reminder of dark eras.

Still, he stood tall. Maintained his composure. Each skeletal figure saluted him as he strode by.

But he didn’t look too closely.

All too soon, he stood at the large, looming doors to the throne room. They had not been touched since the last battle here. Half-blown off their hinges, threatening to fall at any moment.

He took it as an invitation.

The sting in his core grew sharper and sharper with each step he took towards the dais. The air became hotter, buzzing with something harsh and volatile. For years now, he’d been known as the Spirit of Fear, and legends about him told of his inability to experience the plague that he wrought upon others.

As his eyes landed on the woken king, though, something he could only describe as the poisoned grip of fear coiled around his core.

Pariah Dark still looked exactly as he had that fateful day, when the Ancient Masters had come to end the king’s tyranny. The only evidence that time had passed at all was the wound to his eye, scarred over, disfiguring the king’s face even more than it already was.

That and the missing Crown of Fire.

He tried not to linger on that thought.

The Fright Knight dropped to his knee at the foot of the dais. “My lord,” he mumbled. “You’re awake.”

Pariah’s ossified face always cracked ominously when he grinned, and it did so now. “You seem surprised. Do you honestly doubt my power?”

The Fright Knight’s eyes widened and his core skipped a beat. “No, no.” He kept his head bowed to hide the panic written across his faceless expression. “Never. I am your loyal servant. I could never doubt you. My existence is devoted to you and you alone. ”

The words felt as though they dirtied his mouth as they passed through his lips.

A sharp tug pulled at his core. Not enough to be painful, but enough to make itself known. The one that had been whispering to him of hope and better things yet to come.

He did his best to ignore it.

Pariah’s lone eye glinted in the firelight as he studied the Fright Knight closely. “I should have you reaped by your own blade for your dishonesty,” he mused aloud.

The Fright Knight’s core lurched dangerously. “Dishonesty?”

What the king did next caught him off guard. The only warning was the dangerous glint in his single eye. Faster than he could register, Pariah roared and lunged for him. The Fright Knight could only grunt pathetically as he was pinned to the ground and stripped of his weapon in mere seconds.

Red fire exploded to life in the torches that still remained on the walls. The stinging heat grew to oppressive levels, and distantly, the Fright Knight wondered if he could be cooked to his End inside his metal armor.

That poisonous grip of fear twisted painfully around his core as the king leered down at him.

“You dare kneel at my feet when your core commits this treason?” he bellowed. Rubble rained down from the damaged ceiling. “You cannot fool me! I know there is another who demands your attention!”

The knight’s core seemed to leap into his throat. “M-my lord, I beg of you, I do not understand…”

“But you do!” Pariah swung the Soul Shredder up in a deadly arc, its green blade gleaming ominously in the red firelight. Before he could beg for mercy, the Fright Knight found himself staring down the tip of his sword, hovering right above his core.

He dared not move. Not with a ruthless creature positioned right above his life force.

“You feel him, don’t you?” Pariah whispered, leaning down close to the Fright Knight’s face. “He calls to you. He has taken a hold in your core and he refuses to let go. He wishes to take advantage of your loyalty, so that you may betray me…”

Never before had the knight felt threatened by his liege. Any of them. To the kings and queens he’d served, he was among their most valuable assets. Even before his first defeat, Lord Pariah had always respected his knight’s position. Replacement - or worse - had never been on the table between them.

Despite that respect, though, it didn’t change Pariah’s nature. The king had always been brutal and cruel, but he’d remained composed and calculative as he wrought his terror. He did not attack needlessly. Though he didn’t care to hold back his power, instead choosing to have it constantly on display, there was always a reason for his exercise of power, even if it was excessive.

The ghost above him, poised and ready to strike him down at the slightest of wrong moves, was not that same king. A wild recklessness had come over him; something rash, something savage glinted in his lone eye. Nothing at all like the cold calculation the Fright Knight had come to be used to during his reign. No, this was a fiery, heedless passion unlike anything the knight had ever seen before.

That alone caused his core to double its speed.

“Please, sire,” he managed to choke out, “who are you speaking of? My core cannot discern these things…”

The king’s face creaked again as it turned thunderous. “One who thinks he can take what is rightfully mine,” he spat. “A foolish child who has decided to lay claim to my throne.”

It took a great deal of willpower to maintain his composure upon hearing those words.

So. It was true.

Pariah straightened himself. “No matter. He is but a pathetic bug I will crush under my foot. He will never take what is mine.”

“But… my lord, Kilaris…”

The heat of the king’s wrath hit the Fright Knight like a brick wall. “I am the Heart’s master!” he roared. The tip of the Soul Shredder screeched as it dragged along the Fright Knight’s breastplate. “It bends to my will and mine alone! Those wretched Ancients thought they were so clever to hide it? Pah! They were fools!”

“I-I don’t understand…”

“But you will!” Pariah snarled. Angry red sparks sizzled around his grip on the sword. “You will! You, and anyone else who dares think the Heart belongs to anyone but me! You will see! I do not bow to Kilaris; it bends to me. I am the true master of Kilaris, and I will not be locked away again!”

With a roar of fury that shook the room and caused the Fright Knight’s ears to start ringing, Pariah threw the Soul Shredder to the side and lunged towards the Sarcophagus. Power, raw and unbridled, exploded into life around his hands - no, around the king’s entire form. The Ring of Rage grew impossibly bright, fueled by the emotion for which it was named.

If the heat of the king’s temper had been unbearable before, it was nothing short of suffocating now. Every fiber of the Fright Knight’s core screamed at him to flee, to escape the aura that filled the room, infecting everything in it.

Including himself.

And yet he found himself frozen in place, only able to prop himself up on his elbow to watch in abject horror as the king unleashed the full force of his power upon the prison that had kept him subdued for so long.

The red energy paled and grew brighter, quickly growing to a blinding level. Like a star on the edge of burning itself to death, shining brilliantly in a last stunning display, the top of the dais exploded into nothing but light.

The Fright Knight threw up an arm and turned away before he could be blinded, but somehow, the light still managed to sear into his eyes. The king’s power was all-consuming. As if his was the only power that is, was, and ever would be.

And though whitenoise drowned his ears, from within the epicenter of the star, an anguished cry pierced the Fright Knight to his core.

Just as quickly as it had begun, it ended. The light and the energy receded, and the ringing in his ears faded. No longer frozen in shock, he scrambled upright and looked to the dais. Pariah stood there, huffing and puffing with red sparks still dancing between his fingers and in his mane of matted hair.

The Sarcophagus was nowhere in sight. As if it had vanished.

No, not vanished, the Fright Knight realized as he narrowed his eyes. As his gaze swept over the surrounding area, he could see tiny shrapnels of painted wood littering the room, radiating from where the Sarcophagus once stood.

A tainted chill raced down the Fright Knight’s spine. Not vanished indeed.

Obliterated.

The prison the Ancients had once believed to be indestructible had been razed to little more than dust and debris by the prisoner it sought to contain.

The king turned towards the Fright Knight, only enough so that the latter could see that same savage glint in his eye. “And so I will ask you again,” he asked, his voice dangerously quiet, “do you doubt my power?”

The unspoken threat, especially combined with the display before him, was not lost on the Fright Knight. He’d served under Pariah Dark long enough to understand the hidden implications of his words. Slowly, he sank back onto his knee.

“Never, my lord.”

The words sent a pang through his core.

“Good.” The king descended the stairs, and the Fright Knight couldn’t tell if the room was shuddering from the sheer force of his steps or from something else. “Then perhaps you can answer another question for me, dear knight. My Crown - where is it?”

The Fright Knight had to bow his head again to hide his widened eyes. The poisonous grip of fear once again wrapped itself around his core, squeezing it tightly. He knew the answer to the king’s query - or rather, he at least knew who had last taken it. He’d been there, after all.

He needed to answer. He had to. The sharp, painful tug in his core dictated so. The mad king and his threats dictated so.

And yet…

The other pull was still there. Fainter, trying desperately to poke through the powerful hot grip, but there.

It called to him, just as Pariah had surmised. It whispered to his core, beckoning him away from the tyrant’s orders. Those same promises of hope and peace wrapped around him, lessening the pain of Pariah’s pull.

The Fright Knight knew what he wanted. He knew which call he wished to follow. For thousands of years, until the reign of Pariah, he’d been allowed to exist peacefully. He’d been allowed to live out his loyal service without needing to concern himself about his fate or the fate of the Infinite Realms.

He longed to return to that.

The question was, would his core allow it?

Yes, it whispered.

“I… I don’t know,” he said quietly. “The child deposed me before I could see where it had gone.”

He had to keep his head bent low and wrangle all of his self-control not to cry out in response to the wrenching, hot pain in his core the moment the words left his mouth.

And yet a different part of his core felt brighter, lighter than it had in centuries.

Pariah studied him closely. Kneeling there, under the king’s gaze, sent the Fright Knight’s fighting instincts into a tizzy, but he forced himself to remain still and submissive.

He’d given in to the temptation once now. He didn’t know if he had it in him to do it again.

The king hummed. “The boy certainly doesn’t have it. I would be able to tell if he did. And yet I can’t feel its location…”

“Then what will you do, my lord?”

Pariah ran his thumb over the Ring of Rage. Even with his head bowed, the Fright Knight could see how it still radiated power. It too gave off an aura of instability, just like its owner.

The realization nagged at the back of the knight’s mind, trying to warn him of something, but he forced it down. He could not afford to lose focus right now.

“We will march at once,” Pariah finally announced. “If I cannot detect the Crown, then neither can the child. With or without it, getting rid of him will be… child’s play.” He snorted at his own play on words. “Once he is out of the way, finding my Crown will be simple enough.”

The Fright Knight was careful not to let his shoulders sag with relief. That was a response he was far more used to hearing from Pariah. Even if that wild recklessness still permeated the hot, thick air, the familiarity was welcome. “Of course, sire.”

The king raised his mace to point over the knight’s head. “Take your command of the legions,” he ordered. “I will make way for them.”

“Make way to march where, Your Highness?”

Pariah’s single eye flared. “To the child’s pathetic human village. If he is too cowardly to face me again, then we shall draw him out. He will have no choice but to meet me if he wishes to protect his territory. It is there that I will reclaim what he has dared to try and take from me.”

“And… once you have… reclaimed the throne?”

“Oh, dear knight,” the king crooned, bending down to hover over the Fright Knight. “Isn’t it obvious? We will put an end to this. To those who dare think they can have power over me. I will show them the true master of Kilaris.”

The order sent the two pulls in the Fright Knight’s core into conflict with each other, but he swallowed it down. “It will be done, my lord.”

Hastily, he rose from his kneeled position, retrieved the Soul Shredder from where it had been thrown, and retreated from the throne room. Nightmare was waiting for him outside. The thralls would follow him with little more than a simple instruction. With the portal Pariah would create, they would descend on the human city in less than an hour’s time.

He sighed. No doubt the child would rise to meet the king’s challenge again.

Though he knew what the inevitable outcome would be, deep in his core, as the entire Keep gave an undeniable shudder, he silently prayed for the boy King. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Crown of Fire had once been the extremely literal crown jewel of Vlad’s collection. Of all the ghostly artifacts he’d hunted down and gathered over the past twenty-some years, the Crown was easily the most legendary of them all. He couldn’t help but puff his chest with the accomplishment.

Granted, it had been the Ring of Rage he’d truly managed to track down. The Crown…

Well, surely it was an accomplishment of its own to swipe it from underneath the noses of a few dozen ghosts, including the servant to the throne and the Crown.

Unfortunately for him, the legends had proven true; the Crown was virtually powerless without its other half. Even more frustrating was the fact that when he held it, he could feel the power within, yearning to break free and be used. Victory was, quite literally, within his grasp, yet it still eluded him.

And so Vlad had resolved to eventually figure out a way to break the Ring free from the Sarcophagus, preferably without waking the tyrant king this time around. It was for the better, anyway. There were a number of other plans he wanted to see to fruition before he attempted again. Plans like finally obtaining the son he’d always wanted.

It would be lovely, after all, if he could get Daniel to do the hard work for him again. It would be even lovelier if he did it of his own free will.

Thus, the Crown had sat tucked away in his safe in Colorado for well over a year now. Somewhere where no human could stumble across it and no ghost would dare look, lest they incur his wrath. Oh, he never forgot about it, of course. Once a month or so, he’d give into the temptation and take it out, just to hold it. Feel that power thrumming in the metal. Dream about what that power would finally do for him. How it was made for him. How he’d finally reach his destiny once he had it.

In the blink of an eye and a tiny spill though, all those dreams shattered.

The Crown of Fire was not on fire anymore. Quite the opposite, really. Vlad had tried to pick it up a number of times only to be met with a piercing cold, like dry ice. Getting it out of the safe and onto a towel that he could carry without being frostbitten had taken some tricky telekinetic maneuvering. Even through the thick fabric of the towel, the Crown’s new temperature threatened to freeze his hands.

It wasn’t the change in appearance and temperature that formed a pit in Vlad’s stomach, though. It was the fact that he could not feel that power thrumming any longer. Not through the towel at least. Surely it still had to be there, contained in the metal, but without a way to touch it himself, he had no way of verifying that the power remained.

The thought of losing that power was utterly terrifying.

And there was the matter of Daniel’s ectoplasm, too. It could not be salvaged; the tiny amount that the Crown did not evaporate would be negligible for any of his intended uses, not to mention tainted through exposure.

Two of his most valuable assets. Rendered useless to him. Through such a tiny mistake at that.

Vlad wanted to scream. Or fly out into the mountain forest and take his rage out on the trees. Or march right up to Daniel and demand another sample and, more importantly, an explanation.

Vlad wasn’t a moron. Unlike Jack, he could see the pieces in front of him and put two and two together. The Crown hadn’t changed on its own, after all.

Daniel’s ectoplasm had triggered it.

And that just opened up a whole slew of problems, didn’t it?

As Vlad sat at his desk, glaring at his once crown jewel, now nothing more than a frozen paperweight, the realization slowly came to him. In bits and pieces at first, then in a trickle, then in a sickening flood that, for once in his life, left him stunned, unable to figure out a plan to move forward.

The boy’s ectoplasm wasn’t the problem. The problem was Daniel himself. Even more than causing this new slew of problems, Daniel was the source of every problem and setback Vlad had experienced over the past two years.

It all made sense. Too much sense. The boy was at the root of everything. Daniel had ruined his plan at the reunion. Daniel had turned Danielle against him and destroyed the perfect clone he’d fought so hard for. Daniel had managed to make him look like a cowardly fool while he himself won impossible battle after impossible battle. Every plan Vlad created, Danny Phantom would inevitably find a way to ruin.

And it was Daniel awakening these foreign, unnerving feelings within him. The caring. The concern. The fondness.

It made his core burn.

The answer was simple of course. Get rid of the boy, and all those problems would go away. Vlad would be free to finally do away with Jack, win Maddie, and take control of the power that he rightfully deserved. No one would dare stand against him, and those that tried could be squashed as easily as an ant.

And getting rid of Daniel wouldn’t be difficult either. It was true that his power was developing at far higher rates than Vlad’s had (if his projections were right, it was very possible that the boy’s raw power already matched his own, and that was its own difficult pill to swallow), but both of them knew very well that he held himself back. Even in his most difficult battles, Daniel never unleashed his full potential. Maybe he’d come close, but the boy’s fears and morals would always hinder him.

Vlad had no such qualms. He would not hesitate to unleash his full potential. Danny would not be able to meet him.

It was tantalizing, the thought of finally ridding himself of this teenaged thorn in his side. Something deep in his core, a carnal urge, itched to return to Amity Park right now and end things.

It would be so simple. So easy…

Yet every time Vlad stood, ready to follow through on these intentions, the image of that little vial of ectoplasm burned through his mind. The image of the boy huddled helplessly on the floor of his parent’s lab. The image of the spark of fear in his eyes at the threat of a force like the GIW.

The haunting echoes of that question that had shaken Vlad’s world.

“You actually want to help me?”

Even more haunting, the answer that had been right on the tip of his tongue. The answer he’d almost spoken aloud in a moment of weakness.

Those memories, those foreign feelings he despised so much, froze him as thoroughly as the Crown.

Vlad Masters was not an indecisive man. Every move he made was precise, thought-out, and, most importantly, resolute. Very rarely did he find himself regretting his decisions; he had developed a knack for analyzing his options and carefully selecting the best choice. Life was his chessboard, and he was the chessmaster.

And yet for the first time in more than twenty years, he was struck with the realization of just how exhausting playing the chessmaster could be.

The accident had forced him into that role. Pushed into such a precarious position, with his life on the line if he made even the slightest mistake, he’d been forced to learn quickly. Learn how to manipulate the doctors into finally releasing him from the hospital, learn how to slip himself seamlessly into the world of business, learn how to use his humanity to his advantage when establishing his ghostly name. Chess wasn’t solely about choices, after all, it was about strategy.

But constant strategy, constantly having to calculate his own moves as well as any possible moves of the other players, constantly having to be on guard for anything that could trip him up… It was tiring. Far more tiring than he cared to admit.

And maybe, just maybe, that exhaustion was beginning to creep up on him. Maybe it was why he couldn’t force himself to make a decision about what to do with Daniel.

Maybe it was why he didn’t want to make that decision.

There was something painfully ironic about it all. Spending all this time building himself and his mastery only to be knocked down into despondency by a clueless child.

Ridding himself of Daniel was the only way. It had to be. Once he was able to see his plans and dreams through, he’d be able to rest finally. He’d be able to be happy. He just needed to get rid of this one last obstacle in the way of his happiness.

But would it be enough? Would he be able to live peacefully without the crown jewel of his plans, this boy who would finally make the pain and suffering worth it?

Vlad’s fingers curled into a fist. No. That dream was long gone. Even if he couldn’t finish off the child, he knew that Daniel was just as strong-willed as his father and just as stubborn as his mother. Once the boy set his mind to something, very few things would deter him from it. And he had decided long ago that he would never let himself be won over by Vlad.

If Vlad couldn’t have Daniel…

Then it only left one choice.

He stood up, nearly knocking his chair over. Dark rings swept over him, leaving Plasmius in their wake. He phased through the floor, through the ground level, and straight into his underground lab. His flight didn’t let up until he floated in front of his safe.

His face remained stony as he went through the lengthy process of verifying his identity for it to open up. Retina scan, ectoplasm sample, blood sample… Throughout it all, barely a thought crossed his mind. Only a staticky whitenoise echoed in his head, numbing him to nearly everything else.

(Maybe, deep down, some part of him knew if he tried to think, tried to clear his head and evaluate things, he’d suffer a far worse pain than losing his crown jewel.)

He wrenched the door open, almost tearing it off its hinges thanks to his ghostly strength. He didn’t reach for the sword, nor the manilla folder with his emergency documents. His hand skipped right over the Skeleton Key. Every weapon and every tool in the safe was ignored in favor of a little square of film, its papery edges beginning to yellow from age.

The smiling face of his twenty-year-old self blurred as he ran a thumb over the faces of Jack and Maddie, beaming as widely as him. The proto-portal sat on the lab table behind them, inactive, waiting to spark to life.

Waiting to take its victim.

The memory of that day haunted Vlad for more than twenty years. In the months after the accident, he’d wake up in the hospital, drenched in a cold sweat, blinding green light and screams of pain stubbornly refusing to get out of his head. It had taken five years to cut down the number of times he was forced to relive the nightmare, and a full ten years to keep it from his sleep entirely. Even still, more than two decades later, he could not keep it from his mind.

And worse than the pain, worse than the terror and the fear, was the memory of just how thrilled he’d been that day.

Yes, by that point in their undergrad, he’d started to become increasingly jealous of just how close Jack and Maddie were, but even that couldn’t put a damper on the excitement of their accomplishment. It was going to be groundbreaking, and he’d been just as proud of their work as Jack and Maddie had been. Just as ready to show it off.

They had done that. Together. The three of them.

It had been the last time he remembered being happy. Being truly happy. Being free of the anguish and bitterness that had plagued him for so long now.

Something dripped and splattered onto the young Vlad’s smiling face.

Though his ghost form didn’t require him to breathe, he inhaled anyway. Those days, the days he’d spent with Jack and Maddie, working and goofing off and just enjoying their company, they were long gone. Nothing more than painful nostalgia.

A painful reminder of what once had been.

A painful reminder of what he could’ve had.

And as he exhaled, pink flames erupted in his hands. The paper edges of the Polaroid caught fire easily, and in just a matter of moments, those three smiling faces were reduced to nothing more than ash in his palm.

Unceremoniously, his hand dropped to his side, spilling the ashes on the floor.

There would be no going back. Not anymore.

Not after he did what he knew he had to do. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ A doorbell rang.

Danny blinked. Whatever stir of power had been churning within him fizzled out. Thoughts about kings and hearts and cosmic powers left in one fell swoop. His brain, apparently overworked and exhausted from the whiplash of the day, seemed to decide it only had the energy to focus on this new distraction. So really, the next question out of his mouth shouldn’t have been such a surprise.

“Did someone order pizza?”

Sam stared at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I’m crazy stressed right now, in case you haven’t noticed. Let me be a little stupid.”

The doorbell rang again, more insistently. Kala rubbed at his temples. “What is that infernal noise?” he growled.

“Oh!” Babel slammed down his container of yogurt. “I forgot I installed that thing! You’d think the Sumerians would learn to respect a ghost’s haunt after a few thousand years, but noooo, apparently you gotta put something there to keep them from waltzin’ on in. I don’t care what Enkidu did this time, if you walk in on me and my bath again, you can kiss my -”

“Enough!” Kala barked as the doorbell rang a third time. Danny was fairly certain that if the guy had had veins, several would’ve popped by now. “Just… answer it.”

Babel gave him a mock salute before zipping to the door that looked like a manhole. Danny’s brow furrowed when, instead of heaving it out of the way, Babel stuck their head in through the side, and the door rippled like a curtain.

He was really beginning to understand why Babel was the Ancient Master of Chaos.

Before Babel could say anything or open the door (curtain?) fully, a gray blur rocketed into the chamber. Tucker barely had time to dive out of the way as it careened past him and straight into the wall, crumpling in a heap on the floor.

Danny figured his brain was still short-circuiting or something, because the gray blur-turned-parital-pancake was one of the last people he’d ever expect to see in the Ancients’ Chamber. “Poindexter?”

Sydney winced as he began untangling his limbs from one another. “Oo, that - that smarts,” he muttered.

A clap of thunder resounded against the stone walls, causing Danny and his friends to flinch. “What is the meaning of this?” Kala bellowed. “Has the sanctity of this chamber ceased to exist?”

“I-I apologize, Master Kala,” Sydney said. He managed to pick himself off the ground and zip to float before the table, in front of Danny. “Believe me, normally I wouldn’t, but this - it’s an emergency! This is bad, this is really bad…”

“Easy, young one,” Frostbite soothed, though Danny found himself wondering if it was really all that soothing coming from an eight-foot-tall yeti monster ghost. “What is the emergency?”

Kala opened his mouth, presumably to try and yell Sydney out of the room, or whatever he did to get rid of unwanted guests, but Pandora held out two of her hands. “At least hear him out,” she said, gentle yet firm. “He would not have sought us out if it wasn’t important.”

“Exactly!” Sydney began wringing his hands. “I thought it wasn’t real at first, I-I thought I was just imagining it, but I knew it couldn’t be my imagination, I heard it! And I saw it too! And - and my shade! It changed! I didn’t even know it could do that, it never changes -”

“Your shade changed?” Zunje interrupted. “That’s… impossible. Shades and echoes are just that; they’re not capable of changing.”

“I know what I saw! It - I was in trig class! And then everyone just vanished, and when I looked outside -” If possible, Sydney’s face grew an even paler gray.

Danny’s blood ran cold.

( - a big, gaping rip of pure darkness emerging against the already-dark horizon of the Ghost Zone - )

“You saw it,” he finished, his fingers feeling numb. It wasn’t a question. The memory wasn’t his, but it was still burned into his mind anyway.

Sydney turned, as if he hadn’t realized Danny had been there the whole time. “Phantom!” Before Danny could stop him, Sydney had darted to him and latched onto his arms. The sharp, tangy taste of the ghost’s terror filled Danny’s mouth. “Oh, sweet jeepers, you’re here! You have to stop it! Him! Y-you -”

“What is it?” Kala asked, frustration still tinging his voice.

“I still wanna know what you meant when you said ‘he’s’ looking for the Crown,” Tucker added weakly.

Pandora’s eyes widened. “Do you mean…?”

But Danny didn’t process any of their words. A ringing filled his ears as Sydney continued to babble at him. “Wait, I’m not - stop him? I…”

The memories of being in the Keep welled up in the back of his head, threatening to assault him again. Swallowing thickly, he forced them back into that compartment he’d created for them long ago, the one Jazz scolded him for utilizing more often than he should.

The fear from those memories still boiled stubbornly in his gut.

It is nothing you haven’t done before.

That had been different. He’d been so much more naive back then, holding on to the foolish hope that he’d win the day and return home safe and sound and the experience would eventually fade into the collective memory of the hundreds of fights he’d had before. He’d had the extra power offered to him by the Ecto-Skeleton, and he’d had the back-up of a good chunk of his rogues gallery.

He’d had the godsend of whoever had come and turned that key and saved his life.

He was shaking his head before he even realized it. “I can’t,” he whispered. “I’m not…”

Do not let your fear win, little Prince. You are stronger than that. You are stronger than him.

He really wished he could believe that.

Sydney’s eyes widened. “No, you have to! Or - or he’s gonna rip apart the Zone! I saw it!”

“Who are you talking about?” Kala demanded.

Sydney spun around, looking at the Ancients like they had all grown three heads. “Isn’t it obvious?” he shouted, his voice continuing to raise in pitch. “It’s him! The king! King Pariah!”

A stunned silence filled the room, but only briefly. “Stars above,” Zunje whispered. “That’s what you meant when you said he’s looking for the Crown.”

“He’s out?” Kala’s voice had grown much, much quieter. The shock written across his face didn’t help Danny’s nerves in the slightest.

Pandora’s brow furrowed. “I don’t understand. How is that possible?”

For a sickening moment, the thought that someone had intentionally released Pariah flitted across Danny’s mind.

You know better. The answers have been given to you.

“He broke out,” he said quietly as the realization came to him. “It’s - he took advantage of the Heart trying to break free. It must have broken the Sarcophagus, whatever the Heart was trying to do.”

“Because it got separated!” Sam snapped her fingers. “That’s what you were trying to say! When you took the Crown from him when you fought him and put him back into the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep with the Ring, it separated the Heart.”

“And that’s why it’s been ripping the worlds apart!” Zunje added. Strangely, she seemed to be vibrating from excitement. “It’s trying to put itself back together! It all fits in with one another!”

“Awesome,” Danny muttered. “So all this really is my fault.” Only Sydney was close enough to hear him. He shot Danny a confused look, but didn’t press the matter.

Nonsense. You did what you had to do. You made the best choice.

“But when we separated the Ring and Crown before, it didn’t result in… this.” Pandora gestured vaguely with one of her hands. “Why now then?”

“Oh!” Babel flung a forkful of yogurt behind him as they jolted in realization. “We kept them close before! The Ring was like, right next to that thing. We was real careful to keep it that way. So if King Grumpy has the Ring -”

“Then the Crown must have been removed from the throne room after Phantom’s battle,” Kala finished.

For the umpteenth time that day, every eye in the room turned on Danny. He wanted to rip his hair out.

If he really was supposed to be king, then his first rule was going to be that people couldn’t keep staring at him like this.

Too late, he realized the unspoken question they were asking with their eyes. “I… don’t know where it is,” he said, shaking his head helplessly. “I was barely conscious enough to realize someone had turned the key. I didn’t wake up until I was back home.”

Another beat of silence filled the room. “Well, that’s… sort of good, right?” Tucker asked slowly. “‘Cause even if we don’t know where it is, he doesn’t know where it is either. And we don’t want him to get it, yeah?”

“Yes, but according to the Great One, he is looking for it.” Frostbite put a paw to his chin and studied Danny. “How do you know he is searching for it?”

Danny hesitated. Again, the truth was there on the tip of his tongue, but something kept him from telling it to everyone. The hot sting in his core had ebbed away some throughout the conversation, probably thanks to some combination of his new cloak and distraction, but now that it had come up again, albeit indirectly, he could feel it gripping his core again, threatening to send him into delirium again.

The idea of revealing that Pariah was in his core to such a degree sent a twist of nausea through his stomach. He wouldn’t put it past Kala to assume Pariah was trying to take control of him or something.

And there was also the fact that acknowledging the connection out loud meant acknowledging… everything. Namely the whole king thing. That was something he really didn’t want to get into. At all.

“I mean… I just kind of figured,” he finally said, averting his gaze. “If he doesn’t have it, he’s gonna want to find it, you know?”

“We cannot allow that to happen.” Kala stood, the shroud of clouds around him growing larger and showier. “He must not be allowed to have full access to Kilaris again.”

“Sooo…” Babel drawled, “how do we keep him from getting the Crown without keeping Kilaris separated and making the worlds go all kablooey? I mean, I’d be down to see that happen, but maybe with silly string and not, you know. Destruction.”

Danny looked up and inadvertently met Kala’s eyes. He wanted to look away immediately, but there was something in the Ancient’s eyes that kept him there. There was a certain kind of resignation in them, one that permeated the air and sat on Danny’s tongue, heavy and bittersweet. He could practically see the gears in Kala’s head turning, coming to the same conclusion he was quickly coming to, much to his distress.

You cannot run from who you are meant to be, little Prince.

The Heart’s words stole Danny’s breath away. Perhaps it had intended for them to be comforting, but they were anything but that. They were an omen, a harbinger of pain and sorrow.

I don’t want this, he thought helplessly. Please, just… choose someone else.

It is not that simple. You were born for this, little Prince. This is your destiny.

Definitely not the answer he wanted to hear.

Still, Danny ignored the Heart. If it wasn’t going to cooperate, then he could deal with that later. Much later, preferably. Instead, he stared hard into Kala’s eyes, wondering if he could spontaneously develop telepathy solely to beg Kala to keep to his opinion, the one they had found mutual agreement in. The one that - rightfully - decided that Danny could not, should not be named king.

Kala closed his eyes. “To keep him from accessing Kilaris any longer, someone else must control that access.” When he opened them again, he kept Danny’s line of sight. Much to Danny’s dismay, there was a silent apology buried within the stormy clouds. “If… if Kilaris is reaching out to another, then that bond must be realized. And it would seem that we have been fortunate enough to find Kilaris’ new chosen.”

No hit that Danny had ever taken felt like the one delivered by Kala’s words.

Pandora cast a smile laced with smugness at Kala before turning her attention back to Danny. “I for one cannot think of a better candidate for the Heart.”

“Wow,” Tucker breathed. “So. The king thing really is happening, huh?”

“King thing?” Sydney looked back and forth between Danny and Tucker, then his mouth dropped open, and he pointed at Danny. “Wait, you’re -”

“The Crown must be found first,” Pele grunted. Danny had almost forgotten she was there, she had been silently observing for so long. “There is no bond without the full Heart.”

“So we find it first,” Zunje said with a shrug. “Easy peasy.”

“And then what? Pariah’s still got a hold on the Ring,” Babel pointed out.

“It will have to be taken from him.” Kala’s voice echoed with gravity. His eyes met Danny’s yet again. “He will never surrender it willingly. He will have to be fought.”

The ringing returned in Danny’s ears. The memory of his life being drained before his eyes filled his head. The hot grip around his core sparked to life again.

“Wait, wait, timeout.” Sam stepped forward. “Why does it have to be Danny? Why can’t you guys fight him? Like what are you gonna do if Pariah ends up…” Sour fear zipped across Danny’s taste buds.

In spite of the terror brought on by the memories and Pariah in his core, he grabbed her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. She gripped him with only a force Sam Manson could muster.

Zunje laughed, much to Danny’s surprise and irritation. “Well he’s not gonna be alone!” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “We’ll help of course. But we can only do so much. You have to be the one to seize the power.” She threw a pointed look at Danny. “You’ve already got a bit of a connection to Kilaris going it sounds like, so it should take right away. Even if one of us managed to get it away from him, there’s every chance he could take it back. As long as you don’t have full control, he’s still got that window. So… yeah, it kind of needs to be you.”

“Which is why the Crown must be found first,” Kala said. “You will need it with you so you can promptly assert your throne and depose Pariah.”

A chill ran down Danny’s spine hearing the phrase “your throne.” Not the pleasant kind of chill, either.

Do not worry, little Prince. You will make a fine King. You were made for this.

That wasn’t what was putting him off, though the Heart’s insistence that this was his destiny, as if it had been decided the moment he was born, did little to make him feel better. If anything, it made him feel worse.

Then do not think of it as a rulership. Think of it as fulfilling the mission you chose for yourself. Think of it as fulfilling the role you’ve always sought to serve.

That made Danny stop. Another memory from the time of Pariah’s siege of Amity Park resurfaced, this one before the battle had even begun.

(“Dude, you can’t blame yourself for this. It’s not your fault.”)

(“Maybe not. But it is my responsibility.”)

His eyes fell to Sydney, who was staring up at him with the kind of admiration a kid would have for their idol. He could still remember the tangy taste of the ghost’s fear, of his alarm at witnessing his world being threatened and unwillingly altered.

Sydney had come to find the Ancients and warn them, but he’d found Danny too, and he’d begged Danny for help. Even with six of the most powerful ghosts in existence in the room, he’d focused in on Danny.

Because that’s what Danny did. That’s what he’d figured out about what his powers could be used for, way back when he first fought the Lunch Lady.

Danny helped. Simple as that.

Sydney needed help right now. The Ancients needed help right now. His friends and family needed help right now. Two worlds, his worlds needed help right now.

The Heart needed help right now.

Do what you have to do.

Danny exhaled shakily. “Okay.” He nodded. “Okay.” He straightened his back and shoulders. “Alright.”

Sam still held his hand. She and Tucker both looked at him, much like they had more than a year ago as he’d prepared to go fight an impossible battle.

“You don’t have to do this,” Sam whispered.

“We can find another way,” Tucker added.

Danny smiled sadly. “It’ll be okay. I’ll be okay.” He took a deep breath. “This is what I have to do.”

Sam and Tucker glanced at each other. Danny nearly jumped out of his boots when Tucker slapped a hand onto his shoulder.

“This is what we have to do,” he said, squeezing Danny’s shoulder. “You’re nuts if you think we’re gonna let you do this alone again.”

In spite of himself, Danny’s heart swelled, and for one blissful moment, the hot grip on his core disappeared.

Kala cleared his throat, startling the three friends. “If you are done having your… moment,” he said, as if he couldn’t comprehend what had just transpired between them, “we must choose a plan of action.”

“I thought we already had a plan.” Babel tucked their fork behind their ear. “Find the Crown, bop King Grumpy, and bada bing, bada boom, we gots ourselves a new king.”

“I don’t know where it is, though,” Danny said again. “It could be anywhere.”

Zunje hummed. “True, but you might be able to use the connection you already have with the Heart to find it. It’s like we said, Kilaris wants to be whole again, and you’re kind of a big part of that now. It’s gonna be naturally attracted to you, or it’s gonna attract you to it. If you concentrate hard enough, you should be able to follow that pull, so to speak.” She rolled her tongue in her mouth. “Theoretically, anyway. This is kind of a unique situation, but hey! You’re a pretty unique champion so there’s that!”

“That… doesn’t really inspire much confidence.”

“It’s worth a try,” Pandora said. “It’s our only lead at the moment. Unless if you can remember anything about where it could’ve gone, or who could’ve possibly taken it.”

Danny opened his mouth to reiterate that no, he’d been a little too busy dying to notice anything, but he was interrupted by a sudden twist in his core. The hot grip yanked on it, wrenched it out of sync with his heart. His hand flew up to his sternum, and the inside of his cloak began to light up again as his core instinctively began to try and generate more cold to ward off the intrusion.

( - legion of skeleton soldiers marching relentlessly through the Badlands - )

( - being ripped open and pouring through and - )

( - glint of a glowing green sword - )

( - girl with flaming red hair jumping in front of a man, wielding a gun whining to life - )

He gasped and doubled over as the foreign images assaulted him yet again. Sam and Tucker were instantly on him, shouting his name and asking what was happening. He wanted to answer, but the grip had such a strong hold on him, he felt as if his vocal cords were on fire.

And then, striking fear through his Heart…

I am a man of my word, little Prince, the tyrant king’s voice sneered mockingly. If you wish to take what is rightfully mine, then I will take what is yours and raze it to the ground.

“No…” he managed to choke out. “Not…”

Pariah laughed in his core. Pathetic child. Hiding away like a coward, leaving his little village vulnerable and helpless…

( - forking through the sky, a deep blackness peering from beyond the jagged tears - )

Danny heaved a broken, soundless cry. He reached deep within himself, trying to prod his core back into place, desperately calling upon the fond images that had given him peace just a short bit ago. This time, however, those images were marred by the nagging anxiety in the back of his mind, showing him his town in fear and chaos.

That is what will become of your precious humans if you do not face me, the king told him. The choice is yours, little Prince. Stand and meet your pitiful end like the brave little boy you claim to be, or watch me lay waste to everything and everyone you hold dear. Either way, I will reign victorious.

No. No, he couldn’t let that happen. Not to Amity. Not to the Realms. He couldn’t.

He wouldn’t let that happen. Not on his watch.

Deep in his core, underneath the scalding sting of Pariah, something bubbled to life. It was small, weak, like the sun trying to break through the clouds on a gray day. But it was there.

And there was something invigorating about it. Far from the crippling hot grip trying to master his core. It pulsed, slowly and faintly, but it fit right next to his heart like a perfect match, and it began to radiate out. His head spun with wooziness, but it wasn’t disorienting like it had been before. This was different.

Something caught his eye. Though his head felt like dead weight and his vision had an alarming blur to it, he managed to lift his head. His eyes were drawn not to his friends, not to the Ancients, but to the torches spaced out along the walls of the chamber. Their strange, multicolored flames flickered and danced in a hypnotic pattern.

His brow furrowed as, to his wonder, they began to grow. It wasn’t anything flashy or big, just a little height, a little more volume. The different colors, the same six colors lighting up each of the Ancient’s seats, twisted and curled into one another. Danny wondered if his vision was getting even more blurry.

That was until the flames in the torch he was focused in on spun around each other and the colors bled into a brilliant white light. The colors were still there, on the outer edges, forming something of a halo around the white light and giving it a pearlescent, holographic effect.

With a start, he realized he’d seen this exact light before. It felt like a lifetime ago, but it had only been earlier that morning. The first time he felt the pull on his core. He’d seen it then. It had been distant and muted, not like the light now, but it was undeniably the same light.

The feeling in his core, the frail yet invigorating pulse of energy reached for the light.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was vaguely aware of Pariah’s energy lashing out within him, roaring in harmony with the king’s voice, trying to stop this new force.

He cannot take this from you, little Prince. This is yours. Do you see that now?

Danny reached for the light.

“Danny?”

Sam’s voice was muddy, but it was enough to make him blink in surprise. When his vision refocused, the torches looked the same as they had since he’d first stepped into the chamber, the multicolor flames still dancing their dance. Both the pulse of energy and Pariah’s stinging hold receded, back into the background. Distantly, he could still feel them pushing against each other.

He pressed the heel of his hand into his forehead. All these cosmic forces or whatever they were, why did they have to use his core like a playground? It was growing old very quickly.

“Here. Allow me.” Kalliope, who had not spoken a word since promising to help Danny, knelt in front of him. She laid a hand on his shoulder, and her calming aura immediately began seeping into him.

Still somewhat dazed, he looked at his two friends in turn. “Did you see that?”

Tucker frowned. “What? Was it another one of those earthquake thingies?”

“No, I -” Danny stopped himself. How did he even explain what he saw? He hadn’t been able to explain it earlier that morning; he didn’t exactly have the words now either.

And would they even believe him? Sam and Tucker probably would, eventually, but the ghosts in the room? Arguably, they should have been the ones more likely to believe him, but something in his gut told him they’d have a difficult time buying into it. Especially if the weird look Kala was giving him was anything to go by.

Slowly, he shook his head. “Never mind. I - It was just… my imagination. Or something.”

“But something happened.” Sam’s stubborn concern left a diluted, citrusy taste in his mouth. “Was it the Heart again?”

Whatever comfort Danny might have found in the strange light crashed back into distress. As much as it made him sick to admit, he’d somehow momentarily forgotten about what had triggered such a reaction in the first place.

He glanced up to the table of Ancients. Kala still regarded him with a strange look. Babel had taken to stuffing handfuls of yogurt in their mouth like popcorn. Pandora and Frostbite looked like they were afraid he’d keel over again. Concern sparkled in Zunje’s eyes too, but there was an undeniable intrigue there too. Pele even seemed to show the slightest hint of surprise.

Why did they have to stare at him like that?

“It’s… it was Pariah,” he finally muttered. “He’s moving. Fast.”

“Where to?” Kala asked, right as Pandora said, “How do you know?”

The king’s threats echoed in Danny’s head, and he swallowed thickly. “He’s going to Amity Park. He’s - he’s trying to…”

Sam and Tucker’s eyes widened in horror. “Wait, like right now?” Tucker squeaked. “We gotta get back there!”

“A strange choice,” Pele mused, folding her hands under her chin. “Why attack a human city first?”

A lump formed in Danny’s throat. “Because it’s my city. He’s trying to get to me.”

There was a beat of silence before Sam stood up, pulling Danny with her. “Well what are we doing sitting around here then? We have to go stop him!”

“Whoa, whoa, wait.” Zunje set her tablet on the table. “What about the Crown? We still gotta get that if we’re gonna want any shot at taking him down!”

“That’s fine! You guys go get it then!” The panic of knowing his city, his people were in danger was beginning to set in Danny’s stomach. “It’ll be fine, I’ll go hold him off until you get it.”

His friends immediately squawked in protest, and Zunje shook her head. “None of us can find it alone,” she said, and Danny could hear some of the desperation in her own voice. “You’re the only one who has a chance of finding it right now. It’s like I said, you’re the one who already has that connection.”

“I don’t have time to go flying all over the Realms trying to find a stupid crown! People’s lives are kind of at stake here!”

“Then we will go protect them,” Pandora said, standing. “They are just as much your people as anyone in the Realms. If they are yours, then we are in service of them as well.”

Well, he wasn’t a huge fan of what she was implying there… Neither was Kala, if his puckered expression was anything to go by.

Still, the Ancient stood as well. The clouds in his cloak had turned dark and heavy, like they were threatening to start pouring rain at any moment. The grip on his staff was tight and tense. “If we go defend this city of yours,” he began, arching an eyebrow, “then you must go find the Crown. Quickly.”

Danny hesitated. It made sense, he knew that logically, but the protective, heroic instincts he’d unwillingly built over the last two years were screaming to ignore everything with the Crown and go straight to Amity Park. Trying to rein in those instincts felt next to impossible.

Tucker’s brow furrowed in sympathy. “We can go with you, dude. You don’t have to do it alone.”

“Or,” Sam chimed in, not missing a beat, “we can go to Amity Park too. Make sure everyone is safe for you.”

While he hated the idea of the two of them putting themselves in the line of fire, he couldn’t deny how much he trusted them. These two had been by his side since he’d stepped out of that portal. Despite the arguments and the sleepless nights and the persistent danger, they too were just as determined as him to keep their city safe.

If he couldn’t be there himself, then he could only think of two people he trusted to go in his stead.

Danny took a deep breath and, before they could say anything else, wrapped his arms around Sam and Tucker, burying his face in their shoulders as they returned the hug. “I love you guys.”

“We love you too, you big dork.” He pretended to not hear the watery waver in Sam’s voice.

To be fair, his own eyes were pretty misty as well.

When he pulled away, his core and heart swelled with affection for them once more. Somehow, he knew they already knew what he wanted them to do, and the fact that they were fearlessly willing to do that - do that for him - just made him want to cry even more. In a good way, of course. A manly sort of cry. Obviously.

“Just… make sure everyone is safe,” he finally muttered, his voice hitching.

“Of course we will.”

“We need to move quickly.” Danny’s head snapped up as Kala spoke. “If he is moving as fast as you claim, then there is no time to waste.”

“Right. Yeah.” He wiped his nose. “Find an uber-powerful piece of jewelry. How hard can it be?”

“I’ll come with you.” Zunje was already stuffing her tablet into a shoulder bag. “Maybe I can help you track its energies. That’s kind of my thing, after all.” She grinned sheepishly. “I’m real good with books. Not so much my fists. Or weapons. Or any kind of fighting at all, really.”

“I’m afraid I am not much of a warrior either,” Kalliope said. “I would only be a hindrance. Perhaps I can help warn others. Evacuate the areas that will be within his reach.”

“I’ll do that too!” Sydney said quickly, as if he wanted to volunteer himself before anyone could ask him to fight. Danny really couldn’t blame the guy.

“Alright then.” Danny exhaled. Though the hot grip was still there in his core, he could still feel that new pulse of energy, as if it had been a part of his core all along.

Perhaps it has, little Prince.

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. I doubt that, he thought back.

Babel clapped their hands together. “Sweet! This is gonna be a blast! I have a killer road trip playlist, you guys aren’t gonna want to miss this!”

If the pained groans of the other Ancients were anything to go by, Danny figured he’d definitely gotten the better end of the deal. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The rip was already beginning to close.

The moment Valerie had noticed it return, she had made a beeline for the back door. Getting around her coworkers emerging from the kitchen into the dining room to catch a glimpse of it had been a hassle, and she didn’t understand why they had waited until the fourth or fifth time the rift appeared to start gawking.

Then again, she didn’t understand why she had waited so long to take action herself.

Irving Burns had tried to reassure everyone that Phantom would be along to take care of it the second time it forked through the sky. Maybe some part of her wanted to believe that. Maybe just once she wanted to just ignore it and let Phantom do his thing so that she didn’t have to. Ghost hunting would always be her passion, of course, but even she recognized when it came to other supernatural problems, like rifts in the sky, she was way out of her league.

Half the time it usually seemed like Phantom was out of his league too, but at least he had a bit more of an understanding than she did. Not that she really trusted him of course, but he’d probably know more about these rips, why they kept appearing and disappearing, staying for longer each time.

Maybe he’d know why there seemed to be a void behind the rips, one with a darkness that was more than just darkness. Like… a black hole. All-consuming.

Terrifying.

By this time around, though, it was clear Phantom wouldn’t be showing any time soon. And if Phantom wasn’t going to step up and do something, the Huntress would. Terror or no.

But it had taken her too long to get outside. As the door slammed shut behind her, she could see it already closing, beginning to flicker in and out of existence.

No time to waste. She didn’t bother to check to make sure no one followed her. Everyone inside was too preoccupied with staring out the front windows.

Calling up her suit took little more than a simple thought. The nanotech whirled around her in a flurry of red and black, molding to her like she’d been born to wear it.

Part of her liked to think she really had been born to wear it. Like this was her purpose. One that called to her, fulfilled her, made her feel like she was truly making a difference in the world.

(Another part of her wondered if this was really it, though. Hunt after hunt, ghost after ghost. She wondered if she’d ever get the chance to do something more.)

The second her suit was done forming around her, her hoverboard shimmered into existence. Just as she took off, though, the rip flickered once, twice, then closed fully and disappeared.

Her teeth ground together, and she resisted the urge to punch the dumpster next to her. “Damn it.”

“See? I told you!”

The sudden shout startled Valerie, breaking her concentration and causing her board to fizzle out just like the rip had. She whipped her head to the mouth of the alley as her heart skipped three beats. Her stomach sank even lower when she recognized the two people standing there.

“Weston?” she said before she could stop herself. “What are you -”

Wes didn’t even seem to hear her. His eyes shone with triumph as he grinned widely. “I knew it, I knew it!” he shouted, pumping his fists in the air. He turned to his compatriot, looking more smug than ever. “And you didn’t believe me!”

Jazz Fenton pinched the bridge of her nose. “I never said I didn’t believe you. I said I wanted to make absolute certain first before we went barging in.”

Valerie’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. “Wha- I don’t…”

Jazz shot her a sympathetic smile. “Sorry about this, Valerie. I wouldn’t have done this under normal circumstances, but…” Her eyes flicked up to the sky. “These aren’t normal circumstances.”

“I’m not -!”

“Save it, Gray!” Wes jabbed a finger at her. “We saw you! You can’t deny it!”

“Listen.” Anger burned through her blood, vaporizing her hesitancy and surprise. Maybe it was an overreaction, but Wes Weston had always been a thorn in her side, constantly spouting off his crazy theories and acting as if he was better than everyone because of it. That smug attitude drove her up a wall.

Not to mention the fact that he was, for some reason, completely obsessed with Danny. Fenton, Phantom, or otherwise. Not that she really believed him, of course.

But something about it still got to her.

“Hey! Knock it off!” Jazz scolded. “This isn’t the time for this! You can… gloat or whatever later.” She returned her gaze to Valerie, her intense blue eyes making Valerie feel as if she was frozen where she stood. “I’m sure you’ve noticed by now, but we could really use your help.”

Valerie hesitated. Frustration - at Wes for being so him, at Phantom for failing to show up and do the job he so loved to insist he had, at herself for being stupid enough to change before sweeping the area - still boiled in her, clouding her judgment. She wanted nothing more than to wipe that smirk off Wes’ face, tell Jazz to buzz off, and go figure out what on earth was happening to her town so that she could go home and take a long nap.

Really, she was only a few seconds away from doing just that when she caught the glimmer in Jazz’s eyes. Yes, there was the look of a true older sister there, wrangling both Valerie and Wes into behaving, but there was something else. Something Valerie couldn’t remember ever seeing in someone like Jazz.

Fear. And not the neurotic anxiousness Jazz Fenton was known for. This worry ran deep, enough to manifest in her eyes and in the crinkles of skin around them.

That glimmer was enough to cool the anger in Valerie and remind her that there were priorities.

Reluctantly, she folded her arms across her chest. “And why do you think I can help you?”

Jazz inhaled, and for a moment, the glimmer of fear shone even brighter. “There’s only one person who can probably truly fix this,” she said slowly. “The only problem is I have no idea where he is. My few methods of finding him have failed. That’s where you come in.”

Nausea formed a pit in Valerie’s stomach. She had a vague idea about where Jazz was going, and she dreaded it. “Who are you looking for?”

Wes rolled his eyes. “Oh my God, can you two stop beating around the bush already? Isn’t it obvious, Gray?”

Valerie, being the bigger person she was, sneered at him. He stuck his tongue out at her.

“Enough!” Jazz closed her eyes and inhaled again, shakily. Valerie was struck with the notion that the older girl was too used to this, too used to having to be the one person in the room with her head on straight. Between her scatter-brained parents and her sweet but horribly clumsy and disorganized brother, she probably had far too much experience with it.

Valerie closed her eyes. “Who are you looking for, Jazz?” she repeated, even as the nausea churned faster and faster.

Why did she have the feeling she knew exactly who they were looking for?

When she opened her eyes, Jazz was still staring straight at her. “My brother,” she said, much to Valerie’s shock. “And you’re the only one who can hunt him down.”

Someone on the street screamed.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #vlad masters #fright knight #valerie gray #hannah writes #supernova #not tagging every character not sorry #danny phantom fanfic #fanfic

28 notes · View notes

silurisanguine · 5 months

Text

15 lines of Dialogue game

As ive been away for the weekend, not sure if anyone tagged me with this but saw it open tag so here we go. Tagging @vorchagirl @despicablediet and anyone who'd like to do it! 15 Lines of Dialogue Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well! Since i've written the most with Seren Jones, I shall pick her for this!

1 -"Maybe I am, but there isn’t anything left in this universe worth staying for. Whatever is in the next universe has to be better than this one Barrett, it has to. I can't bare to stay here any more, not without him, not when I could have done it so differently."

2 - "Cora… she was there, saw her dad die…She hated me, blamed me for not saving him. After the funeral, Lillian took her and that was the last I ever saw that wonderful twelve year old. I realised then I had no reason to stay in my universe as everything i loved had been taken from me. I hoped maybe another would give me a second chance. To fix things..to try again…

…That’s why I do this.”

3 - "I came here the first time with no preconception of what I’d find. I was in awe at the location, just as you are now. But what I learned here has guided my hand in relation to how I see the Artifacts, how I see Unity and the Starborn. Anyone who wants to complete the Artifact collection, needs to know the full story for themselves.”

4- "Now you see how dangerous this place is, and this is just the start. The Starborn Guardians here have lost all empathy, all compassion, their humanity in pursuit of their cause. They have nothing left in their existence except to stop anyone else reaching the Temple. …I sometimes wonder what is the point of their existence before I wipe them out of it for good.”

5 -”You washed them clean. I can say one good thing about Lillian in that she gave you the chance to do that. You’re not the same man, Sam.”

6 -”They makes me smile every time I come back here. But I’m not entirely alone, the fish there get a view unlike any other.” She pointed to the couple of little fish swimming in their tanks, sitting right at the edge of the massive view screen. “If you don’t mind taking care of them for me, they’ve been a good little crew, never complained once.”

7 - "I've never met you before. Until today I'd never met a single pirate here." That was the truth, if a little stretched Seren thought.

8 -"All this, this universe is a nightmare. I've been to so many variations and… You… everyone here is so different, so wrong. It’s like Unity decided to show me the worst outcome possible just to make me appreciate who I’d - what I’d lost.”

9 -"Neat trick, have to remember that next time I'm in a hell-hole universe."

10 -"Sorry, Sam, just picturing you over Vlad’s head brought on images of you in ballet tights and…yeah, sorry, I have too much imagination.”

11 - "Yes, justice, Delgado. See that’s behind most things I do now. In this case justice for those your fucking coloured coded Spacers have harmed- have murdered. It’s interesting really how far I got here without anyone realising who I really am... I wondered why no one noticed the SIN of my ship. Even Jess surprisingly. It was a gamble using it of course…But no one ever clocked that I was flying the Razorleaf."

12- “Until I knew for sure you felt the same way I did, I wasn’t sure how to really act around you. But now I know, expect more of this, Sam Coe.”

13 - “You know I would! I mean she called me darlin, you know that makes me melt.”

14 - "…He always said he was bad with words, yet he could say things that were like love poetry to me, that would dazzle me. He was so open with his feelings when he trusted you. Funny, absurd sometimes and he cared deeply and loved passionately. He was an amazing father and I-"

15 - "I've no idea. Being Starborn didn't exactly come with a manual."

#Seren Jones #15 lines of dialogue #Siluri writes #The Coemancer Crew #Starfield OC

7 notes · View notes

blood--king · 1 year

Text

Something important to say in this post folks! An announcement actually. But first, Sander is here to brought to you some context! So please keep reading!

Hello hello my mortal mates. Today I will teach you something new about our Nix. We are going to talk about the months of the Nix. A bit of context first, the gods of the Nix designed the universe so there was only one ""Sun"", it is a gigantic sphere of light, bigger than a galaxy, which is in the center of the Universe. Every planet depends on it to survive; as you know, months are how we divide the year, the time takes the earth to make a trip around the sun. In the Nix it is not that way, the gods gave every human being the knowledge of the calendar and how it works. For obvious cultural reasons, Nix's months don't have the same names as ours, the primal human society gave names to these months according to what gods they liked the most. Here, today, I will show you these months. The last context! The Gods of creation are the following five: Armony Blackestar of the Peace, War Helios of the violence, Sin Prometheus of the mortals, Plague Axcel of the pests, Death Sander of the afterlife.

January -> Armony = Month of Down.

February -> Armony + War = Month of Law

March -> Armony + Sin= Month of Ecstasy

April -> Armony + Plagues= Month of Purge

May -> Armony + Death= Month of Freedom

June -> War + Sin= Month of Treachery

July -> War + Plague= Month of Catastrophe

August -> War + Death= Month of Surrender

September -> Sin + Plague= Month of Punishment

October -> Sin + Death= Month of Crime

November -> Plague + Death= Month if Penance

December -> Death= Month of Darkness.

These are the base names, however, every culture has its own meaning for them, for example, vampires see October as their most important month, they celebrate and honor the warriors and it used to have the national Blood day. On Vlad's reign, families used to fly and capture humans to eat them alive as a symbol of physical affection towards another vampire, it was a day with many screams and blood everywhere. However, Hell changed that, because of the sexual meaning of this day and now it is known for its romantic meaning, yes, Valentine's day is on October 15.

Also, Hell's birthday is on this month, October 24. Why am I telling you this? For Cassandra's birthday we organized an event, and we are going to do it again for this "Halloween's Valentine" and our beloved King's birthday. I'm not going to give many details yet, but it will be Hot 🔥

#◢【🌌】 nɪx #drya talks #sander talks #lore #nix's months #BRAND NEW EVENT SOON #HALLOWEEN'S VALENTINE #((two celebrations you never thought to be a single one uwu))#((time for the dark creatures to get bolder >:3))

8 notes · View notes

evil-quartett · 1 year

Text

Only a pureblooded vampire

Random angsty oneshot: Vlad accidentally kills a innocent person

Vlad had only meant well.

He knew it. Their blood has tasted so sweet, too sweet. Too sweet for a serial killer, even sweeter than a regular human being. The blood of a saint, not a demon.

Yet, his determination to rid the world of another sick flower had caused him to succumb to sickness as well. The human struggling in their last embrace had been healthy, extraordinarily so, and yet, he had still plucked them, in the height of their blood.

Their plea for mercy was still haunting his ears, and it would not leave him until he withered, what would never come true. Their fingernails had left crescent-shaped marks on his forearms. These wounds would heal, but the ones on his heart would only fade into scars and remain there for the rest of eternity. A piece of hair had found its way on his coat, refusing to release the monster that had ended its originator's life.

Additionally, his clothes were still splattered with crimson blood. Innocent blood, spilled like sacrificial lamb's. They had paid for sins they hadn't committed.

In his arrogance, he had seen himself as a god walking the earth. However, gods don't make mistakes. He was the devil in the end.

A single tear slid down his pale cheek, nourishing freshly planted roses. They would wither every year, imitating the human's time of death. They would remind him of the crime he committed.

Vlad had only meant well. But he had ended up doing something evil on the level he was meant to be fighting.

#my writing is so random omg #ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp vlad #ikevamp fanfic #my writing i guess

6 notes · View notes

writingsofwerewolves · 2 years

Text

This is unedited but here’s the first two chapters of my new project. Sex scene in chapter 2!

Chapter 1

“Talia, my love,” his voice was deep and silky as he cradled my face between his hands, his eyes glowing red and his stark white fangs emerging from below his upper lip. “You should stay away from me.”

“I can’t,” I told him, tears running down my cheeks, “I love you, Vlad! I don’t care that you’re a vampire! I want to be with you!”

“I’m not good,” he said, his face pained, “I’m not a good person and you deserve better. You deserve a human.”

“What if I don’t want a human?” I demanded, “Shouldn’t I be able to choose my own path?”

He dropped his hands and turned away, “And you would choose this? A life with a vampire? A vampire that could cut your life short with just one bite… You would curse me with the guilt of your death?”

“You won’t hurt me!” I gripped his arm and pulled him to face me again, “I trust you!”

“You shouldn’t,” he warned, “Talia…”

“Please!” I begged.

“Talia!”

“Stay with me!”

“TALIA!”

I sat bolt upright in my bed. There was a pounding on the door.

“Talia! Get your butt upstairs now! Abe’s bus’ll be here in an hour and there’s no breakfast on the table!”

“I’m coming,” I called back weakly.

“Hurry up, girl!”

“Yes, Aunt Ester.”

I moved as fast as I could to dress and wrangle my hair into a tight bun before heading up the stairs and into the kitchen. As I fixed breakfast, my mind was on my dream. It wasn’t the first and it would most certainly not be the last.

After coffee was made, Aunt Ester settled in the kitchen and turned on her favorite ‘news’ station, which made it harder for me to escape into my fantasy.

“They want to let vampires work as doctors!” the man on TV reported, “These perverts want access to humans at their most vulnerable. And children! In the two years since these demonic monsters revealed themselves, they’ve done nothing but push for laws that give them every advantage! They already can own properties and run businesses and now they want to prey on the sick and weak!”

I suppressed a sigh as my aunt tsked and sipped her coffee.

“You’re absolutely right, Mike,” the other person on the TV commented, “Do you know there are actual vampire night clubs? They’re popping up in nearly every major city. They’re places of sin and debauchery of all kinds, but especially a preying ground for vampires. Letting vampires open businesses was a mistake.”

That peeked my interest. Night clubs? Vampire night clubs…

“Aunt Ester…” I ventured tentatively.

“What?”

“Would you like me to return Isaac’s library books today?” I asked.

She frowned at me suspiciously. “Fine. Stop at the grocery store while you’re out.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I didn’t have a life. And I never would. That had been clear for a long time. But there were little things I could do. Small rebellions. I’d learned at a young age that the library was the best escape. Not only did it have books but it had internet access, something I was staunchly denied at home.

At the library, I could search for things like ‘vampire night club’ and my aunt would never know.

I didn’t have high hopes but I did actually find one. It was in Dallas, which would be quite the drive. And I didn’t have delusions of grandeur. I knew I wouldn’t find a vampire that would sweep me off my feet and steal me away from my life. At best, I’d find one willing to feed on me. At worst… Actually, I couldn’t decide which would be worst: being completely ignored by all vampires or being killed by one. Either way, it was worth it.

And so, I hatched a plan.

Chapter 2

It was simple enough, really. My aunt didn’t know my workplace would be closed on a day I normally worked the late shift. So I dressed up for work that evening and left like usual. Except instead of heading for the diner, I drove towards Dallas and I had an extra change of clothes in my bag. With traffic, it was over a two hour drive and the entire time, I was wracked with nerves. I didn’t know what to expect.

All the news I saw made vampires out to be evil, demonic creatures. But my aunt and uncle exclusively watched stations that spread hate about queer people and people from non-white countries, so I didn’t trust that.

I arrived at the club around ten. The club was creatively named Club Blood. I parked and started changing my clothes. My wardrobe certainly wasn’t appropriate for a night club but I thought I looked pretty good in my black V neck tshirt and black short skirt. Hopefully I looked tasty enough.

I had to show my ID at the door, my hand shaking with excitement and anxiety. When I entered, I was overwhelmed by the scent of bodies and alcohol. I nearly choked on the smell, but pushed forward to the bar, my eyes scanning the crowd as I went. I had no idea how to find a vampire. I took a stool at the bar and hoped a vampire would find me.

“What’ll it be?” the bartender asked.

“Uh…” I hadn’t planned for that. I didn’t have any idea what types of drinks there even were beyond what I’d seen on the limited TV shows I’d managed to watch. Only one drink game to mind. “Gin and tonic?”

The bartender nodded and within moments, a drink was in front of me.

“Thanks,” I said and ventured to take my first sip of alcohol.

I tried to stifle my cough as the smell and burn of it overwhelmed me and returned to scanning the moving bodies.

Among the crowd, I spotted a few people with glowing red eyes. I straightened up in my seat, puffing out my chest in the hopes of looking appealing. But they didn’t glance my way. Examining the outfits of everyone there, I felt very plain.

My shoulders slumped as hopelessness started to fill me.

“Not what you hoped?” a smooth voice questioned. A well dressed man moved to sit in the stool beside me.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I assume you came for the vampires,” he commented.

“That obvious?” I grimaced.

“Well, most people come for the vampires,” he shrugged. “No bites yet?”

I raised an eyebrow at him.

He held up his hands, “Hey, I had to.”

“Not yet. You?” I asked.

He chuckled, “Not quite yet. I’m Damian, by the way.”

“Talia. Nice to meet you.”

“That’s a lovely name,” he said, “Talia. Beautiful.”

My face flushed, “Thank you.”

A vampire with glowing eyes passed in front of me then, turning his gaze to me briefly before moving on.

“Don’t take it personally,” Damian offered, “Some vampires are just asses.”

My eyes widened, horrified, “You probably shouldn’t say that,” I said in a whisper, “Don’t they have really good hearing?”

Damian lowered his voice to match mine, “Don’t worry. I can take care of myself.”

“Okay…” I agreed and returned to scanning the crowd.

“Not all vampires keep their fangs out,” he informed me, “You won’t be able to tell who’s who just by looking.”

“Oh,” my shouldered slumped further.

“Don’t worry, it’s not too late for a vampire to proposition you,” Damian assured me. “The night’s young.”

“Maybe, but I don’t have that much time,” I admitted.

“Hmm,” he frowned, “Well then I’ll be straightforward. I’m interested in you, Talia.”

I turned to him, surprised, “You’re… what?”

“I’m a vampire and I’d like to spend the evening with you,” he clarified, “However long you have, at least.”

“You’re… a vampire?” I repeated doubtfully. He looked very human. He wasn’t pale at all.

“I can prove it,” he said, a grin forming. His eyes started glowing red and I saw his fangs peek out behind his upper lip.

“Oh,” I squeaked, squirming excitedly in my seat.

“Richard, put dear Talia’s drink on my tab,” Damian told the bartender without looking away from me. Even with his fangs out, he didn’t slur his words at all. “Talia, your place or mine?”

“I… don’t have a place,” I told him nervously.

“That’s fine,” he said, his eyes returning to their rich brown color, “I have a hotel room a few blocks away. Is that acceptable?”

I nodded, my mouth suddenly dry.

He offered me his hand and I shakily put mine in his. His skin was cool, though not as cold as I expected. Damian stood and led me out of the club.

“Did you drive here?” he asked.

“Yeah…”

“Can we take your car? I walked here.”

“Uh… sure,” I agreed without thinking and nodded towards my beat up thirty year old car.

When we got closer I realized how messy it was.

“One second,” I told him apologetically.

“Take your time,” he said.

I cleaned up the front passenger seat, throwing my diner shirt to the back. Once it was clean, I held the door open for him.

“Thank you,” he said.

I got in the driver’s seat, shaking a little.

“Take this street for a few blocks,” Damian instructed.

My hands were tense on the steering wheel as I followed Damian’s directions to the hotel. It was happening. I was going to have sex with a vampire.

He pointed out where to park and then began leading the way into the hotel. He grinned at me and then caught my hand in his, holding it with a comforting firmness as we made our way through the hotel. I perhaps should have felt self-conscious. What did it look like to the people we passed? But I didn’t see anyone. I only had eyes for Damian.

The only time I was aware of anyone else was in the elevator when an older couple joined us. There went any fantasies of him taking me passionately in the elevator! But Damian didn’t let that stop him from resting his hand on my hip, sending a shiver of arousal through me. I glanced at his face and by his expression, he knew exactly what he was doing.

We came to our floor and Damian took my hand again, leading me from the elevator, away from the older couple, and through the empty hall. He only released me to unlock the door to the room. He opened the door and stepped aside, gesturing for me to enter.

I couldn’t help but be in awe of the luxuriousness of the room. It looked like a picture from one of the magazine’s my aunt threw out. The windows were huge, encompassing most of the room and giving a bird’s eye view of the city at night.

“It’s beautiful,” I breathed.

Damian came up behind me and whispered against my neck, “You are beautiful.” He wrapped his arms around me, pressing me close to him.

Anxiety filled me but I wasn’t going to let that stop me. I turned and pressed my lips to his urgently, needing to feel him. He seemed surprised, but reciprocated, kissing me deeply. Worried my inexperience would show, I let him take the lead.

“Just a moment,” he panted, putting his hands on my shoulders to hold me back, “Just need to cover the bases.”

“Hmm?” I whined desperately, just wanting him to kiss me more.

“Do you want for me to drink from you?” he asked, his expression serious.

I swallowed hard and nodded.

“Okay,” a small smile formed on his lips, “I can’t get you pregnant but I can use a condom if you’re more comfortable with it.”

I shook my head, “Don’t worry about it.”

“Is there anything you want me to know first?” he asked, “Any preferences, dislikes…?”

I shook my head, grasping at him to make him kiss me again, “No, please just…”

He chuckled, “Just what, Talia? What do you want?”

“Just… just fuck me,” I pleaded, forcing the dirty word to come out of my mouth.

“I can do that,” he assured me and then he kissed me. Deeply and passionately.

I barely noticed that he was moving us towards the bed until I fell onto my back atop it, with him over me, his hands roaming my body. His knee came between my legs, forcing them open and his hands pushed up my black skirt so he could cup and knead my rear.

“You feel amazing,” he breathed in my ear before ducking his head to kiss my neck.

I gave a small yelp when I felt his teeth gently nibble my skin, my whole body tensing in fear.

“Hey,” he pulled back and caressed my face, looking down at me sympathetically, “It’s okay. I’m not biting you yet.”

“Sorry,” I panted, my body torn between excitement and fear. “I’m fine.”

“Talia,” his voice was gentle but firm, “I don’t have to feed from you.”

“I… I want it,” I assured him, my hips squirming of their own accord as I felt the pressure of his knee between my legs, pressing against my sensitive parts, “Please.”

“Alright,” he agreed, “Do you want warning before I bite you?”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before looking up at him with determination, “No.”

He smiled, “I promise, you’ll like it.”

The tightness in my chest eased at his smile.

Damian kissed me again and I felt his hands grip the hem of my shirt and start slowly easing it up. He only broke the kiss long enough to pull the t shirt over my head. I had a moment to feel self conscious about my very plain bra before his hands were on my bare skin, running over my sides and belly as he continued to kiss me.

I suddenly wanted to feel more of him. I began desperately groping at his shirt, searching for the buttons to undo. I felt him smile against my mouth before his hand gripped my wrist and directed me to his buttons. My fingers were shaky, but I managed to get his shirt open enough for my hands to find the skin of his chest. Not nearly enough but it was more of a man than I’d ever felt before.

He broke the kiss suddenly and straightened up. I whined in disappointment, trying to keep a grip on him to hold him to me, but he winked and started undoing his shirt the rest of the way. I licked my lips as he slowly revealed more of his torso. He was lean and didn’t have defined muscles like the men on magazines did, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have muscles. I sat up and reached my hand to trail down from his chest to his abdomen and felt the strength beneath his skin, covered lightly with dark hair that got thicker before it was hidden behind his jeans.

I realized I’d been admiring his body for a long time and looked at his face shyly. Damian just smiled at me, seeming pleased that I was enjoying his form. He put his finger under my chin and kissed me again, more gently, before reaching to undo my bra.

I instinctively held it to me when it came loose, feeling the need to hide myself.

“It’s okay,” he murmured against my mouth, kissing me again, “You’re beautiful. I want to see you.”

With a shaky breath, I let the bra fall from my chest and Damian helped free my arms from it before kissing me and running his hands over my form again. He trailed kisses over my jawline and down my neck before coming to my breast, flicking his tongue over my taut nipple. I gasped and gripped his curly black hair as the sensations overwhelmed me.

Damian eased me to lay back again as he continued to kiss his way down my body, until he came to my skirt. He kissed my abdomen as his hands slowly pulled down the band of my skirt. Had my brain been functioning at that point, I may have worried about my plain panties under my skirt. I may have worried about the hair I hadn’t been able to remove. But I was far too gone to care.

He threw my skirt somewhere I didn’t see and then kissed my thighs, one after the other, and then he started to remove my underwear. That was when I had a moment of worry. Was I really doing it? Was I really going to have sex for the first time? Was I really going to have sex with a vampire?

As Damian tossed my underwear aside and his mouth descended on me I decided, yes. Oh fuck yes, I was.

His mouth found my clit, gently sucking it into his mouth as his fingers worked my inexperienced hole. Within seconds, my body convulsed with pleasure, an embarrassing strangled moan coming from my throat.

As I came back to earth, I realized he’d stopped pleasuring me with his mouth, though his fingers were still inside me, moving slowly.

“Would you like to continue?” he asked me.

“Sorry,” I panted, “I didn’t… I…”

He grinned, “Don’t worry. I can make you cum over and over again. That doesn’t have to be the end. That is, if you want more.”

I felt my pussy clench at his words. Would he really? I’d never managed to make myself cum more than once a night. Would it really be possible?

“Okay,” I nodded, nervous and excited.

Damian kissed me again and I tasted myself on his lips. Somehow that made me even more excited. He pulled back and undid his jeans with record breaking speed, pulling them and his underwear off in a smooth motion before returning to kissing and fingering me, so fast I didn’t even get a glance at what he was working with.

Though I decided I didn’t care. I just wanted to feel him. I grabbed at his finally naked body, feeling the shape of him, the strength of his arms and then the curve of his butt as I tried to pull him closer.

He chuckled against my mouth and pulled away slightly.

“Just a second,” he told me, reaching a hand to the night stand and opening a drawer. He pulled out a pump dispenser and squirted a bit into his hand before straightening up just enough that he could encircle his length, rubbing the liquid up and down it a few times. “Lube,” he offered at my puzzled expression, “Trust me, that’ll make this much more pleasant.”

I nodded, trusting his judgment on the matter. I certainly didn’t know what worked best, though I felt like I was wet enough for everything to function as intended.

With my first look at his cock, I didn’t really know what to think. I hadn’t seen any in person and very few images. All I knew was that it was longer and thicker than my fingers and I started to worry about how well that would work. I thought about warning him that I hadn’t had sex. But I didn’t want to ruin the mood. I didn’t want him to do anything differently. I could handle it. Whatever pain came, it would be worth it to know I’d had sex with a vampire.

He kissed me again and then rubbed his length over my pussy a few times before pressing against me. I tensed, bracing for pain.

“Talia,” he murmured, “Relax. I won’t hurt you.”

He kissed my forehead and my whole body relaxed, suddenly feeling safe and cared for.

I felt him slip inside me and let out a small gasp. It didn’t hurt, but it felt strange, touching parts of me I’d never managed on my own.

Damian moved my legs so they wrapped around his waist and began to move slowly, getting deeper with each gentle thrust.

“Oh,” I breathed as it started to trigger new feelings in me.

He smiled and began to move faster as he used his hand to stimulate my clit. His hard length started to press into a part of me that made my back arch off the bed. Suddenly I needed him to go harder and faster. I tightened my legs around him, starting to move, matching his rhythm.

Damian braced a hand on the bed, still touching me with his other, his movements causing an intense friction within me. He changed the angle slightly and suddenly I broke apart, my whole body clenching down on him as I whined and whimpered while the pleasure gripped me. In the midst of my pleasure, he bent down and bit the juncture between my neck and shoulder, sending more jolts of ecstasy through my body.

As my orgasm released me, I collapsed back into the bed, still getting intense aftershocks. Damian gently pulled himself from me and I realized by the white fluid dripping from him that he had also cum. He moved to lay in the bed beside me, breathing hard as I was.

Out of instinct, I moved to cuddle up against him, resting my cheek against his chest. He didn’t hesitate before moving to hold me, cradling me gently in his arms. Beneath my ear, I heard his heartbeat. That surprised me. I thought vampires were dead but he felt so alive. His heart was beating as fast as mine.

Exhausted and sated, my eyes closed and I drifted into the most peaceful sleep I’d ever had.

#oc Damian #oc talia #unknown's writing

2 notes · View notes

the-wild-card-hand · 11 months

Text

//Updates, I'm gonna work on drafts and starters tomorrow for certain threads. If I've not responded odds are I lost the thread and if you wanna do another lemme know and I'll get it made. I'm also gonna put a read more here for the current CoD brain rot cause MWIII and MWZ has a bit of a grip on me right now.

Advanced Warfare is looking to be added into the new timeline and I think its a potential soft reboot for that story much like how Black Ops Cold War was for the Black Ops series meaning we could have some familiar beat-points but certain 'canon events' could be changed, could stay the same, we all know how that ended for Soap and I have my opinions on the story but its not the worst CoD campaign that was put out there. It wasn't the best, but it wasn't the worst either there still was some good takeaways and subtle shit.

Anyways, from my current knowledge I know that Treyarch is on deck next potentially for their newer Black Ops iteration which is rumored to be the Gulf War, which lasted between 1990 to 1991. I think Makarov's backstory is going to help seg-way into the Black Ops story.

Born before the fall of the Soviet Union, Makarov's father, as described in Vlad's MP bio, was a high-ranking politician. So when the Soviet Union fell in 1991 his father took his own life. Around this time too, we know that Imran Zakhaev was also getting a foothold in the Soviet Union as well, with Kravchenko sort of being his in, so there might be some kind of connection there where the two try to work together to help save and strengthen the Soviet Union leading to the inevitable hunt for Imran Zakhaev who is brought into the Perseus network, we bring in Russell Adler and some of his guys to help hunt for them along with a couple of additional guys, a young John Price and Captain MacMillian leading them to Pripyat to kill Zakhaev just before the fall of the Soviet Union to stop him from an arms trade of recovered Nova Six, of course Zakhaev lives but is wounded and essentially stokes up the fuel and the fire with his son Viktor.

Considering Vlad would still be a teenager around this time, he wouldn't be involved in that particular event since he joins the Russian Army in 1998 right when he turns 18 and he volunteers for General Barkov's unit a year before Barkov performs an unsanctioned attack and occupation of Urzikstan and is there up until the ULF took back their home. Makarov goes back to his superiors to plead to reclaim Urzikstan and is stripped of his honors and rank.

In comes Viktor Zakhaev looking to take Barkov's throne and who is also looking for a little bit of revenge and justice? Makarov. With a little coercion they also get Al-Asad and place him as the new leader of AQ. It plays into the titles of one of the CoD 4 missions 'The Sins of the Father' if they go that route. Might fly over the heads of most but could be a subtle little nod.

#outofcards

0 notes

madewithonerib · 1 year

Text

youtube

4 Gratitude Prayers that Will Change Your Life | Pastor Landon

Perfect thank you, I'm more knowledge based #worship, but there is still some kind of fallen state in not being able to praise GOD like Angels do in Isaiah's vision, it kicks off a frenzy of praises

Isaiah 6:2-3 | Isaiah’s Commission above HIM stood seraphim, each having six wings: With two wings they covered their faces, with two they covered feet & with two they were flying. ³ & they were calling out to one another:

“Holy, Holy, Holy is the LORD of HOSTS; 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗘𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗵 𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝘂𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝗳 𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗴𝗹𝗼𝗿𝘆.”

Matthew Henry is a godly example [3:44] took things that can be replaced, not life; that I who was robbed, not I who robbed!

But when we use them as excuses [4:26] to not 𝗼𝗯𝗲𝘆 𝗚𝗢𝗗 𝗶𝗻 𝗴𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝘁𝘂𝗱𝗲, we missing out in blessing that GOD has for us on the other side of gratitude.

And it is hard, but we can thank GOD for breath & another day. It is #powerful & it changes our brains and our lives. Amen

And the big one GOD has been prodding me towards for like more than 10 years I think.. Sacrifice of Thanksgiving [4:47]

I've noticed over the years when HE has allowed things to happen that take away stuff I thought I couldn't live without, it is liberating to find I didn't need it. But then HE does it again with another thing & I'm like seriously! Can't we slow this down a tiny bit plz! I did not even catch on, I kept referring to it as GOD #waterboarding me or dangling me out the window like when Michael Jackson did to his helpless baby

I was like: "this is not good parenting.."

Now I have tiny flashes of super intensely concentrated surreal ballers with GOD; it is like HE was boiling away the impurities [used to be in chemistry]

And yes I am obsessed with that throne room vision that Isaiah had, ever since I heard that we were made to praise GOD it's the target hotspot, the Holy of Holies

I love your honesty on this not knowing & me neither for the longest time until now

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

At last job, told to constantly #follow ppl around, #follow! #follow!! I was like what is this about..

every time GOD put me in a strange role where it felt like I was #reverting back to my #childhood again — the not knowing what to do & having to ask for everything

We're going back to Eden, the perfect place with GOD at center of our lives. Sin entered when GOD walked away, & we didn't follow HIM. The whole time HE was the best thing in the Garden & we thought otherwise.

We chose to do our own thing. And I have to say I've always thought it odd how Noah reacted so #vehemently against his son for looking upon his nakedness..today it clicks Love covers a multitude of sin [1 Peter 4:8]

Ham was wrong to focus on the bad.

can see how important it is to not get jealous how GOD uses each of HIS kids, because this realization comes from a carefully #curated combination of efforts from this post to:

Eric Gilmour's Changed by the Word of GOD [James 1:18], & Vlad Savchuk's How to Walk in Sexual Purity: Heart Issue [Matthew 5:8]

RE Sexual Purity: Heart Issue | Vlad Savchuk [Matthew 5:8]

youtube

#throneroom #thankful #thanksgiving #praise #worship #following GOD #pursuit #pursue GOD #pursuit of happiness #focus #Vlad Savchuk #grateful #Eden #perfect place #GOD central focus

0 notes

cirilla-fiona-riannon · 2 years

Text

Ikevamp Act 2.5

Chapter 17 Romantic Premium

𝗛𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝗠𝘆 𝗛𝗮𝗻𝗱

Vlad: "I don't want flowers that do bad things to this world or humans."

Mitsuki: "Stop, Vlad!"

The moment I screamed to stop him, the smile I had seen the day I met him came back to me.

~~~~~~~~~Flashback~~~~~~~~~

Vlad: "Hey, fighting is bad."

Vlad: "Your hands are not meant to harm other people. Don't we all want to be friends all the time?"

~~~~~~~Flashback Ends~~~~~~~

(That's right. You said it yourself, Vlad.)

I hugged Vlad from behind, driven by the feelings that welled inside me.

Vlad: ".................."

Mitsuki: "Vlad..."

I wrap my hands around Vlad's blood-soaked hands from behind.

The wound may have already started to close up, but I gently stroke it to drown out the pain.

Vlad: "Mitsuki, your hands will get dirty."

Mitsuki: "It's okay. It's okay now, Vlad."

Mitsuki: "Don't put any more blood on your hands."

Mitsuki: "These hands are not here to hurt anyone."

(Because these hands...)

Made many flowers bloom in that garden.

These hands can compassionately care for children.

These hands have the same warmth as mine and humans.

Mitsuki: "Vlad, you're not a God."

Mitsuki: "As proof, look, we can hold hands like this."

Vlad: "................"

Vlad is not saying anything.

I don't know what he's thinking in this silence, but still, I want to tell him.

Mitsuki: "Don't hurt anyone's or your own heart anymore."

Vlad: "Mitsuki..."

The strength leaves his body, and the guy he's holding by the neck falls with a thud.

His clasped hands tremble just slightly.

Vlad: "The day I saw that future, I vowed to protect the world no matter the cost."

Vlad: "If my fate is to get my hands dirty, then that's what I'm going to do."

Comte: "Vlad..."

Comte approaches Vlad step by step.

Comte: "You don't have to carry the past, future, or the sins of humans alone."

Comte: "I'm not like you. I'm the lost in contradiction guy who can only help what's within his reach."

Comte: "But that's why I want to take your hand again."

Vlad: "Comte..."

Comte: "Let's think about humans and this world together."

Comte: "Let's hold hands, so you don't have to dirty them anymore. Just like when we were little."

Vlad remembers the day he reached Comte's hands and said: don't cry.

But this time, Comte is the one who reaches out to him.

Their hands and feelings are now about to overlap again after hundreds of years of passing each other.

Vlad: "Mitsuki, Comte, what you guys say is always beautiful."

Vlad: "But I don't know why, even if it's beautiful, I want to believe it."

Vlad: "I wish I could be close to you..."

Mitsuki: "Vlad..."

His crimson eyes narrowed softly, and he tightened his grip on our clasped hands to fill the loneliness that had lasted for too long.

(I will never forget the warmth and strength of this hand.)

To others, this may have been just an ordinary night, but for us, it was a fateful night that held one lonely pureblood together.

We then handed Ulfa over to the police and left the place.

Vlad: "Mitsuki..."

Mitsuki: "What's wrong?"

Vlad, who stood behind me, called me over, and as I turned around, he reached out to hold my hand with a slightly sad look in his eyes.

Vlad: "I'm sorry for getting your beautiful hands all dirty."

(He's right. I was so distracted that I forgot about it.)

When I grabbed Vlad's hand earlier, the blood got onto my hands.

I tried to tell him not to worry about it, but Vlad brought his face close to mine.

Mitsuki: "Vlad?"

Then, his lips gently touch the palm of my hand.

My heart beats faster as he repeatedly kisses my hand like an animal licking its wounds.

Mitsuki: "U-Um, Vlad. What's wrong...?"

Vlad: "Because you looked like you were in more pain than I was."

Vlad: "I thought if I kissed you like this, it could heal you a little."

Vlad: "It's funny because I don't have the power to heal wounds."

Mitsuki: "Vlad..."

(This is the real Vlad.)

Even when he knows there's no wound, he'll be brokenhearted if it looks painful.

The kindness he shows me makes my heart ache.

Mitsuki: "No, it's not funny. Thank you, Vlad."

Vlad: ".............."

Vlad: "Mitsuki, why...?"

Mitsuki: "Huh?"

Vlad: "I've caused you so much trouble, so why are you smiling so happily now?"

Seeing Vlad's cute surprised expression made me smile even more.

Mitsuki: "I told you before, remember? If everyone I care about is happy, that's enough to make me smile."

Mitsuki: "And, of course, that includes you, Vlad."

Vlad: "................"

Vlad: "Thank you, Mitsuki."

With that, Vlad smiles.

It's not a doll-like smile but a smile that exudes joy from deep inside.

Previous Part╏Next Part

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp act 2.5 #ikevamp 2.5 #ikevamp jp #ikevamp vlad #ikevamp #cybird #ikevamp translations #ikevamp comte

74 notes · View notes

sapphireswimming · 4 years

Text

superphantom crossovers by sapphireswimming

For ease of access, my published superphantom (Danny Phantom x Supernatural) crossovers are listed below (and in an ao3 collection)

There are also some additional crossover sentence-stories in Apricity (ao3) and 100 word drabbles in Turning Pages (ao3)

Track Record (ao3) The Winchesters are excellent at researching, but that doesn't always mean they like what they find

Resplendent (ao3) Everything about the room was wrong. It was too bright. Filled with nauseatingly ornate furniture and art. And he couldn't remember how he'd gotten there

The Only Voice Coming Back (ao3) The house has been abandoned for years and Sam and Dean are about to find out exactly why no one's tried to fix it up. with podfic!

The Fires Burn at Midnight (ao3) The ghost wants them to go away

More Than Bullets (ao3) They were just looking for some futuristic stun guns. Honestly

For the Sake of the Song (ao3) Swing Era AU. It's the big night for Sam (and Sam) and Dean is determined that nothing will ruin it for them. Except maybe his two left feet

Paradiso (ao3) Of all the doors he'd walked through, this was by far the nicest

Half a Time (ao3) Clockwork has meddled enough

Motnahprepus (ao3) Companion piece to The Cinderninja's "Superphantom". Honestly, their day had been doomed from the beginning

Down the Road (ao3) Nearly a decade has passed since there was any trouble in Amity Park but now the Winchesters can't get there fast enough

Fraternizing (ao3) Sometimes they couldn't care less about the affairs of Heaven and Hell

For the Man With (Almost) Everything (ao3) Charismatic billionaire Vlad Masters has everything he could ever want in the world. Except… we all know that isn't quite true

Spin Off (ao3) Writing was hard. But if there was one thing worse than putting Sam and Dean through cliché plots like The Bugs and The Seven Deadly Sins, it was running out of ideas entirely

and is this silence all you're going to say? (ao3) It hadn't crossed their minds that Danny hadn't told anyone

Tangling (ao3) For once in their lives, getting information isn't the problem. The Winchesters have too much of it. Finding out the truth is the hard part

Bottom of the Barrel (ao3) Jack Fenton was having the worst day of his life. The woman in black said that she could help with that

The Only Thing Worse (ao3) Sam had never grown up "normal." He had never fit in at the many schools he'd attended. He'd always been picked on. But it wasn't until years later that he realized that maybe... maybe that was more normal than he thought

All My Children (ao3 pt1) (ao3 pt2) Maddie made a mistake, but to fix it, she made an even bigger one. Because now, in a Wyoming cemetery, Dean realizes that even using the Colt's last bullet, this is far from over

Regnant (ao3) Sam and Dean once again require the services of the King of Hell. Only... apparently there have been some regime changes since the last time they looked

But Oxygen is Loud (ao3) Danny was alone in the house. But never, of course, as alone as he thought he was

On the Road to Nowhere (ao3) end!verse. Dean's in a future where nothing is the same. Not even himself

Wrong (ao3) Wrong everything. Wrong time, wrong place, wrong idea. Which is why it isn't hard to see how the entire plan fell to pieces

QED (ao3) There was no possible way that a man with a track record like Vlad Masters' was not destined for Hell when he finally kicked the bucket, so Crowley sets out on a mission to find out exactly why he cannot find the man's name on his enrollment list

The Nasty Burger (ao3) The only thing that might be able to salvage this day is a good burger before he hits the sack. That's all Dean wants. And is it really so much to ask?

Lonely Gray (ao3) Sam took a shot in the dark. The Winchesters were caught by surprise. (He had a hole in his heart and there were tears in her eyes)

The Billionaire You Know (ao3) Because there's only one person Crowley would trust with something as important as this

Strange Sanctuary (ao3) It was the most haunted city in the country and it drew the Winchesters like a magnet

Putting Out the Welcome Mat (ao3) When the Fenton Portal first starts up, the Winchesters are the first to get the invitation to see it in action. Dean can only form one coherent thought: "what have you done?"

Just Another Day (ao3) The Winchesters are over and it's just turning into a very, very stressful night for Jazz

On the Nature of Ghosts (ao3) The Winchesters talk shop with Danny. Because these ghosts of his in Amity Park? Really weird

By Any Other Name (ao3) Sam, meet Sam. Oh. That's going to get confusing pretty quickly if we work together, isn't it?

Sacred Circle (ao3) Danny wakes up trapped by hunters using unconventional weapons - salt, iron, and shotguns. He isn't liking it. Not one bit

#superphantom #danny phantom #supernatural #crossover #i just realized I'd never made a tumblr masterlist of my own superphantom crossovers?#and that seemed like something i should have done haha so here you go #all of my finished superphantom fics linked in one place #maybe one day I can get back to the literal 100 plus pages of wips and post more #but it is not this day #mine #ss

68 notes · View notes

cleanlenins · 3 years

Text

Going Angst Week 2021: Day 5

Death

Read on AO3

Jack Fenton, age 45, passed away on Saturday, June 26th 20XX after experiencing a major heart attack while picnicking with his loving family. He is survived by his wife, Madeline Fenton, and his two children, Jasmine and Daniel Fenton-

Danny crumpled the clipped obituary once more, the wrinkled paper barely made a noise. The newspaper clipping was worn and faded, with tear spots occasionally smudging the ink. Danny held the crushed piece of paper close to his heart, shaking with the force of his sobs. His shudders threatened to topple him off of the gilded window sill and into the plush green carpet.

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

Vlad had already won, why did the universe have to make it a perfect victory? This wasn't a part of the deal!

Two years ago, Danny had given himself over to the older halfa. He didn't have a choice. It was either to become his "son" willingly or everyone would die and he would become his "son" anyways. Danny was trapped, so he made the only choice he could live with. His life for the people he loved. An easy choice to make. A harder one to live through.

On the roughest nights, the nights where Danny would stare up at the ceiling feeling the heavy numbness of sorrow press down on his entire being and hope it would finally crush him, he would comfort himself with the knowledge that his family was alive and together and happy. That his friends had each other, were probably playing the same video game together and arguing over ridiculous things. He could almost find a small morsel of happiness in these thoughts. He might not be there, but they still had each other. They still had their lives to live. They could move on.

So why? Why? He keened with grief, glad that Vlad was not here to witness his emotional torment. Wouldn't confront him over his display of grief for a man Vlad loathed. It just wasn't fair.

The last words Danny had spoken to his Dad were words of hate. How he hated him. How he was a terrible Father. How he wanted nothing to do with him. How he was an embarrassment, worthless, monstrous, destructive. Every vicious lie tasted bitter and acidic on his tongue as he watched the devastation on his Dad's face. The hurt in those kind blue eyes. The desolate tears his deceit had wrought. Shoulders slumped as he begged Danny to not leave. Danny could not listen to him, no matter how much he wanted to stay.

"I'll always love you, Dann-o. No matter what you think of me," He had said as Danny walked away.

Danny let himself fall off the window sill, collapsing in a puddle of tears. He curled in on himself, trying to hold together a heart that was broken beyond repair.

He wanted to blame Vlad. To find proof that Vlad had been the cause behind his Dad's death. He wanted to find some evidence that Vlad had broken their deal so he could wreak vengeful justice on the man. But he had looked. And he had found nothing. And the sheer glee on the older halfa's face told Danny that this was not the machinations of the manipulative bastard. It was merely a cruel comedy the universe had directed. Danny wished to know what terrible sin he had committed to be tossed into this circle of hell.

He couldn't even go to the funeral. Vlad had forbidden it, even though that was where the billionaire was at now. Evading his sister's questions. Comforting his Mom in her time of grief. Enjoying the sight of his Dad being slowly lowered into the ground.

Danny thought he might pass out at the thought, unable to breathe from the force of his sobs. Vlad didn't even know that Danny had the newspaper clipping. He had burned the first one he had found and forced Danny to recite some diatribe of Jack Fenton's faults. Each syllable felt like a dagger in his chest, twisting with the knowledge that he had failed his Dad in every way.

Danny sobbed his apologies and love into the carpet, forced to acknowledge the man who deserved to hear them most was out of his reach forever. Never to realize his ungrateful son loved him as well.

#going angst week #going angst week 2021 #danny phantom #cartoons #my writing #i haven't finished day 4 yet but have day 5!#angst

19 notes · View notes

symphonyofthewrite · 4 years

Text

Seven Years Bad Luck...Or Maybe Just a Moment

Wonderful cover art by niuan_ on instagram!! Please please go check them out!! Their Castlevania art is incredible!! I'll put a link to their insta in a reblog!!

Fandom: Castlevania Netflix

Summary: Adrian broke the mirror in his father's study...how will Dracula ever forgive him?

Originally written for the prompt "Please give us Lisa and Vlad just being loving science parents (bonus points if they’re protective)" I’ll put the link to the original post in a reblog!!

Father was going to be furious.

Adrian’s brain ran through all the potential scenarios; at first his father’s voice raised and came down on him, and at last he felt the dirt outside the castle—thrown out, on the grounds that breaking a mirror was more than bad luck. Sure, it might be a small chance that would happen, but a child’s imagination hasn’t been domesticated yet.

“Are you alright, sweetie?” his mother asked at the dinner table, putting a hand on his shoulder, “You’ve barely touched your food.”

Adrian didn’t say anything. He wanted to speak, to defend himself, to lie, but words were fickle and cruel; they rose to surface, but when he tried to net them, they dove back down his throat.

Emotions, however, weren’t particular about how and when they appeared, and bit even those who weren't trying to catch them.

“I…I’m sorry.” Tears began to fill his eyes.

“Sorry?” Lisa half laughed. “Sorry for what?”

The boy’s golden eyes flickered to his father, who paused, and cocked his head to the side. Only confusion. No anger there…yet.

But surely there would be. His mind offered a seven-course meal on just how angry the vampire king might get in the next few minutes.

Lies, excuses dove down his throat. But the truth wouldn’t stay choked down.

“I…I broke your mirror!” he blurted out, too loudly, “I didn’t mean to, I swear! I—It just fell to pieces! I wasn’t playing with it or anything!”

He heard how loud, how tiny, his voice sounded, and the excuses sputtered and died.

He was ready for Dracula to stand tall, to demand how and why, for his eyes to flash red and…okay, maybe not ready, but expecting it, at the very least.

Instead the Tepes parents looked each other quizzically.

“Which mirror?” His father asked calmly—mirrors weren’t exactly the most common occurrence in a vampire’s house, after all.

Adrian sank down in his chair, his eyes darting away, the words a low, burbling murmur, “The-The one in your study.”

His parents’ faces broke, not in anger, but into forgiving—almost amused—smiles, like he had done something funny and didn’t know it.

“Come with me, Son.” Vlad stood up from the table—but less as the commanding presence, more in a sweeping motion that could take him away with him—holding out a hand.

Adrian’s eyes ran to the safety of his mother. She nodded; go with him.

He got up from the table, taking his father’s hand—(not as cold as one might think)—still apprehensive, but now more than a little curious. His footsteps pattered along behind the calculated tolls in the halls.

They came to the scene of the crime: the study. What was once a smooth, shining mirror, now a pile of glittering glass on the ground. When his eyes fell upon it, Adrian looked away and swallowed.

Dracula let go of his son’s fingers, taking a step forward. He looked over his shoulder smirking a little, and raising his hand.

With one motion his sin was undone; the puddle of a mirror rose, like a dog called by its owner, the jagged droplets coalesced back into the rippling surface.

Adrian’s eyes widened as he stepped closer, seeing himself reflected in it silver waves, as if he was the only one in the room. Vlad put a hand on his shoulder.

“This isn’t a normal mirror.” He waved a hand and the scene within the mirror became something else entirely: a mossy forest. He waved his hand again and before them was a moonlit beach. “It can take you anywhere in the world.”

Adrian took another step closer, mouth agape, staring at the shifting scenes, and reached out. Before he could touch it, however, Dracula waved his hand, and he was reflected in the room again.

“Can we go somewhere?” He looked up at his father, the fire dancing from the mirror to those golden irises.

The kind look in his father’s eyes flickered.

“Not…today.” He turned to leave the room.

Adrian rushed up to him. “Tomorrow?”

The vampire king paused, flicking his wrist, and Adrian jumped at the sound of shattering glass; the mirror had returned to its fragmented pile.

“You have lessons tomorrow.”

The boy followed him into the hall. “The next day then?”

“Son—” Vlad stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose.

He sighed and crouched down before him, one hand on his shoulder, the other brushing through his son’s hair.

“You are one of the brightest children I’ve ever met—and I don’t meet a lot of children,” he chuckled. “You are kind, and gentle… and you always do what you feel is right.”

Adrian smiled sheepishly.

His father twisted a lock of his hair around his finger. “But the world out there…”—Excitement ran from Adrian’s toes to the tip of his tongue, but he said nothing; something made his father’s eyes look redder— “Has no place for that.” He turned his nail, cutting the strand of hair. “Your place is here, in the castle, with your mother and I, where it’s safe.”

Adrian looked at the ground, biting his lip, desperately trying to keep the fluttering thing in his stomach from dying.

“But I—”

His father raised himself back up, six feet tall and all vampire.

“It’s time for bed.” He said, and it’s not up for discussion.

“What’s it like, out there?” Adrian asked as his mother tucked him in for bed.

“Well,” she thought about it. “It’s big,” she pulled the covers tight around his shoulders. “Bigger than you could imagine. And colorful, much more than this drab, old place. The sun is so bright, and it has a way of illuminating everything beneath it, making it look more beautiful. And there are hundreds of thousands of animals, howling—awoo!—and meowing”—she pawed at him—“and chirping”—she whistled—“and just as many people—all creating wonderful things, singing, dancing…” She trailed off.

She seemed so happy when she talked about the outside world. Surely it wasn't so awful a place.

“Mother?” he asked softly.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“…Will I ever get to go out there?”

“Why of course! Why do you ask?”

“Father says…he says that the world out there has no place for—”

“Adrian,” she paused, then reached out to cup his cheek“…your father is what most people would call an old fuddy-duddy.” She smiled, then paused, saying more seriously. “He…hasn’t had very many good experiences with people. He just doesn’t want you to get hurt.”

“So… you’ll take me out there?”

“Well,” she laughed, “I can’t exactly sneak you out tonight. But yes, one day. Your father will take some convincing, but I’m pretty good at persuading him. …Did you hear about the time I showed up at his front door?”

He’d heard it alright; only about a thousand times.

But there would be a time, many years later, a time when he walked the world, and some mirrors that broke couldn’t be repaired, when he would give anything to hear her tell it just once more.

115 notes · View notes

sp00kworm · 4 years

Text

A Den of Iniquity (Part 5)

Pairing: Dracula/Count Dracula/Vlad Tepes x Female Reader

Warnings: Death, Murder, Blood, Gore, Injuries, Violence, Vomiting and Adult content.

---

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

---

Anne’s ability to remain sober was yet to be seen. Dracula felt amusement ripple through him as his shadowed fingers moved along the walls of her basement home once again. She was asleep in front of her sofa, sleeping off the night shift she had just finished. The sun wasn’t up yet this late into the winter, and so, Dracula’s powers were not weakened by the threat of the sunrise. His smoke curled from the shadows, rippling in a wave down the walls, collecting on the floor like a pool of liquid nitrogen, cold and churning. The vampire’s form took shape within the rippling cloud before he reached within to produce the Van Helsing’s family book. The cracked leather back contacted the coffee table with a dull thump and Dracula turned his red eyes on the sleeping form of Anne. She didn’t stir. The vampire opened the book to the front page as he reformed into a human shape, his gloved fingers peeling free a page of her notebook silently. Dracula took her pen from the table and penned out a message in old cursive just to spite the woman’s eyesight.

‘Perhaps we can talk about the mysteries of the darkness once more in the morgue? This evening.’

With a curl to the end of his name, the vampire tucked the note inside the front cover and closed the book carefully, admiring the old cursive of Abraham’s writing as he made sure to place it in front of her. The vampire snatched the whiskey from her hand and replaced the lid before moving to tuck it away in her cabinet once more. He paused as he peered inside at the three other bottles. He looked at the label of the bottle in his hand, contemplative of such a desire to drink, before he replaced it in her cupboard and left in a rush of cold mist, trickling from her window over the small garden and out into the night once more.

Anne woke up with a start. Her neck burned with agony from being laid against her armchair, her head pressed back against the side of the headrest. With a groan, she raised her head and clutched at the back of her neck, trying to rub some blood flow back into the region. The sunlight was harsh against her eyes. She’d forgotten to close the curtains again when she got home. Anne looked at the window, glaring at the sunshine as she untucked herself from the armchair and glanced at the heavy, coffee table in front of her. Her blue eyes widened with disbelief as she gazed at the leather cover of her family’s Vampirology book. It was laid beside her empty whiskey tumbler. In a rush, she grasped the book from the table and cracked open the cover. A piece of paper skittered free, flopping onto the side of the armchair. Anne scowled as she plucked the paper from the armrest. Vladimir. That damn Vampire had been in her home once more. She read the cursive and scoffed before angrily slamming her book down onto the coffee table.

“That fucking vampire.” She ran her fingers through her hair, huffing and puffing to herself as she stormed over to the window and looked though. It was open. She slammed the window shut before balling Dracula’s note into a small ball and throwing it at her desk in the corner of the lounge. With a growl she kicked the armchair before taking a deep breath and picking up the balled-up note and rereading it. On the back there was a carefully written date and time.

It wasn’t like she had much of a choice. The King of Vampires knew where she lived anyway.

The packets of cigarettes weren’t really a good substitute for the drinking, Anne figured out as she stood on top of the hospital roof, by the huge incineration chimneys. The incinerators were not burning, so she was free to smoke up on the roof for a while.

A rush of wind made her shudder before a smooth voice spoke behind her, “It is a beautiful night.” Dracula purred from above her. She pushed away from the wall and took a long drag of her cigarette as she looked up at the vampire who hung from the bar fixings of a satellite on the roof. A creature wrapped in its own wings morphed into the shape of a man, covered in a dark coat. He flopped from the bar yet landed like a predator, gracefully on his feet, his black coat hiding his form, wrapped around him tightly. Anne tapped the end of her cigarette, flicking ash onto the floor as she watched the monster walk across the roof, his heeled shoes silent against the concrete.

“Maybe for beasts like you. I’m fucking cold.” She took another drag of her cigarette and ignored the vampire as he loomed over her, stood inches from her back.

Dracula grinned with fangs, “Those sticks will kill you, hunter.” His voice curled in her ears like a dark promise.

“I’ll be dead with the liver cirrhosis first.” Anne stubbed the end out against the bricks before she dropped the end into the wall mounted ashtray, “What do you want, Dracula? Weren’t we meant to meet in the morgue?”

Anne turned around into his chest and scowled at the closeness, looking up at his human face with distaste. A pale face was framed with dark hair which twisted with a mind of its own. His eyes were human-like, the dark brown almost black as he rubbed at the pointed facial hair on his jaw. The vampire’s hands stretched out between the two of them, and his fingers uncurled to reveal a single glass vial.

“Your blood?” Anne looked at the vial suspiciously, “What do you want me to do with it?”

Dracula’s other hand disappeared behind his own back before Anne gasped. A smoky hand revealed itself, her blade clutched in his hand. The vampire grinned with a hiss, mocking her as he tossed the weapon behind himself.

“Do what you want with it. Try and find a way to kill me. Seek cures for your diseases or simply drink it. I care not.” He hissed at the sight of her crucifix and flicked a finger, watching the silver melt from her neck before he continued, “Consider it a payment in blood for your…help.” He drawled the word before dropping the vial into Anne’s outstretched hand, “May its mysteries unravel swiftly, Doctor.”

She wasn’t fooled. Dracula wasn’t an idiot. He wanted her to have his blood for a reason.

“You’re a creature of lies, Dracula. I’m not an idiot. I know when I am being made fun of.” Anne eyed the blade behind his imposing figure, “You must know, that after six hundred years, there is no return from the damnation of death you have chosen?”

Dracula looked at her, his eyes bleeding to red as the wind whipped at both of them, “The blood is the life.” He offered before he stepped back towards the shadows, his body melting into them as he flashed white fangs, “Perhaps you can find the answers of that life?” He laughed as he disappeared, not a trace of his red eyes or white teeth left in the shadows of the hospital as Anne rushed for her blessed blade.

The vial of blood was cold in her hand and she looked at the label with her glasses perched on the end of her nose. His office number was penned over the sticky note.

The vampire watched the moon as he soared over the London rooftops, contemplating the foolishness of his own actions. Perhaps, he had just handed the key to his demise to a Van Helsing. The last descendant of the line. The last one that could kill him. There was a secret in his own condition. What he was could not be changed, he was too steeped in blood for that, but perhaps he could find the key to saving someone? Death wanted you. It wanted your life, but your soul would be damned, slipping through his fingers to hell if he did not act before the creature sought to take you. To condemn a person to darkness was for them to never be the same. A walking corpse and a shell of a person, filled with the desire to drink, sin and kill. He remembered, vividly, the feeling of your spectre on top of him and wondered if that was the future as he opened his wings and swooped down towards St.Paul’s Cathedral. His claws gripped at the tip of the spire on top of the dome. The night was loud beneath the building, taxis beeping still in the streets below. Humans never did truly rest anymore. Dracula peered at the stars with hellish eyes and watched the clouds roll over them, a cold fog dripping over the buildings around him from the drop in temperature.

Dogs barked as he soared away from the cathedral, his wings spread as he caught the frigid wind and climbed higher over the city, gazing down at the orange streetlamps glittering below. It was a beautiful place, full of life even at a late hour. He compared his previous knowledge about London to its current state and purred at the delightful tastes of the humans scuttling below. People from all walks of life. Thinking of the taste of blood made him hunger for it and the vampire circled slowly towards the night time clubbing scene as he thought on the words of Death. Her death. As he landed, he felt his wings fall back into a coat and looked at the entrance to one of the rock bars. A man was outside in the fresh air of the side alley, looking up at the sky. His arms were covered in gooseflesh as she shivered in the cold of the November air, his vest clearly not the correct choice for the weather. Dracula watched from the streetlamp as he pulled his phone from his pocket and began typing something on it. The vampire walked across the road, his dark eyes flashing as he turned his influence on the man, churning his thoughts with desires he never knew he had until the darkness played with them. The man turned his head and opened his mouth as he looked at the vampire walking towards him.

Dracula peered down at the young man, “Good evening.” Hypnotism clouded the man’s eyes as he reached to brush a finger over his cheek, nail dragging against the skin.

“Your place or mine?” He asked as he tucked his phone back into his pocket.

The vampire pressed him against the alley and covered his eyes before feeling the heaviness of hunger in his gut and the sharpness of his own teeth, “Here is fine.” He muttered as he exposed the man’s neck, holding his legs open so it would appear like a tryst in the alleyway if anyone were to walk past. His gloved hand muffled the scream that escaped the man as he bit into his neck, hard and deep. Blood spurted over his tongue as he lapped at the wounds, sucking harshly before it started to flow by itself, the artery spurting violently from the damage of his teeth. His stomach ached with fullness as he tore himself away and licked at the wounds, looking at the puckered flesh as he cleaned the neck completely clean. Dracula took his scarf from his own neck and wrapped it around the man’s shoulders and neck, hiding the damage as he tucked him close to the alley entrance and slipped into the shadows once more.

“You will remember nothing of this. Go home. Sleep.”

A moment later, the man awoke with a groan, clasping his neck and head in pain before he shivered and pulled the shawl of the scarf tighter around himself, hailing a taxi from the side of the road. The vampire licked blood from his chin as he turned down a side road, the feed not helping to clear his mind any.

“I’ll be home tomorrow morning, Drac. Sue said she’d come in and check in on you early and I filled your bowls.” You looked at your cat and sighed. He was sulking, tucked up on top of the cupboards again out of the way, “Be good!” You tugged his tail and dodged his paw before you picked up your overnight bag and headed towards your door. You locked it and tugged the handle before descending the stairs and heading towards the pavement. There, parked up on the curb, was a slick black car. The tinted glass slid down smoothly, and Vladimir poked his head out of the car, his sunglasses perched on the end of his nose as he smiled at your approach.

“Somehow I’m not surprised by the BMW.” You joked as you looked at him through the window. He was dressed in a heavy turtleneck jumper, his hair tied back with tight jeans ironed to perfection. Vlad open the door of the driver’s seat and shuddered in the cold.

“It was more money than I expected to pay.” He opened the back of the car with a press of a button and huffed, “I think the dealer got most of what I paid.”

“Imagine that being your only concern.” You laughed and rolled your eyes, “It is a gorgeous car.” You complimented as you put your bag in the back and walked around to the passenger seat. Vladimir made no move to open you the door but simply climbed back inside and pushed the stick into gear as you clipped your belt into place.

“Let us go, then. I have a few things for us to do.” He pulled away from your home and shop with a spin of the wheel.

“Does that list include the movies you promised?” You glanced around at the interior of the car.

“But of course!”

His home was as grand as ever, though devoid of any extra staff this time. You looked at the wood to carpet floors and sighed. It was a dream home. You looked at the curtains and rugs and smile at the change from red to purple.

“Did you get new curtains because of me?” You asked as you pulled your coat free and felt your hair. It was raining outside, in a typical November fashion, and you made sure to hang your coat a little closer to the radiator on the stand, so it would dry and not smell too musty from the rainwater.

Vladimir tugged at his jumper and decided it was dry enough to not change before he replied, “I might have changed them. I decided royal purple was more fit for a woman of your stature, madame.” He dipped to take your hand, kissing it like a prince before he laughed joyously and twirled you under his arm.

You were a little overwhelmed with the treatment and blushed at the attention as Vladimir spun you towards the stairs.

“You can put your bag in the guest bedroom.” Vladimir pointed to the top of the stairs and turned his finger to the right, “It is the door to the right of the bathroom. Second door on the right.”

“Oh, thank you.” You smiled and took your bag handles in your hand before climbing the stairs to deposit your things in the guest bedroom.

It smelt of fresh roses. Fresh Tudor roses sat in a vase on the vanity by the window. The soft scent wafted across the fresh bedding and permeated from the curtains that were drawn over the window. It was dark now outside, the winter making the days incredibly short. With another inhale of the fresh smell, you placed your bag on the bed and smiled around at the décor. It was all expensive. Real wood and shined wax surfaces with rich coloured walls. There was even a canopy bed. You pulled the ties from the sheer curtains and watched them fall with a grin. It was a room fit for a princess. You took your toiletry bag from your satchel and walked to the vanity. It was cleaned and lined with intricate glass bottles, made for expensive oil-based perfumes. The toiletries in your bag paled in comparison to how much the Egyptian glass bottles must have cost Vladimir. The stopper was hard to pull out but when it popped free you hummed at the smell of the Myrrh based perfume. You looked at the oil inside and frowned as the liquid dripped up to the edge of the bottle. A drop of oil clung to the corner and you pressed your finger to it before dabbing it against your neck. Another drop followed it. It dripped, floating upwards before dropping back into the bottle as though it had never defied gravity. You took the stopper and tapped it back into the bottle before dabbing the oil on your neck, a dot behind each ear and one on each wrist. It was a heavy smell. A light scent of cinnamon mixed in with cardamom behind a heavy base of Myrrh.

Vladimir was sprawled out on a large sofa in the lounge, his feet up on a stool and his fingers playing with the buttons of his remote control for the television. You smiled as you entered the room, playing with the corner of your top before you sat in the spare seat next to him, tucking your feet under yourself as you looked at the television. He’d been passing the time with dramas, though his phone on the cushions told you he hadn’t been bothered for actually watching what was playing. Vladimir held his arm up off the cushions and curled the fingers of his other hand. For a moment, you were apprehensive, but you were quickly swayed by the idea of a hug, and scooted along the cushions before letting Vladimir tug you close, hugging you to his side as he offered you the television remote.

“Guest’s choice first, my dear.” Vladimir let you take the remote and ran his fingers over your hair before lowering his nose beneath your chin, “Did you use a perfume?” He asked as he tucked cold fingers under your chin, swiping it over your skin before sniffing at the smell on his hands, “Myrrh is expensive. A good choice.”

Embarrassment coloured your skin, “It smelt nice so I…”

“I’m not mad. They are made for using.” Vladimir cooed before he watched you open the various streaming services he had.

“What was it that you wanted to watch?” You asked Vladimir as he pushed your drink across the coffee table and handed you a menu for take-out.

The business owner hummed, “There was a film.” He opened his hand before pointing to the screen as you scrolled over a film, “That one. About…Ah yes. The monster and the woman. Apparently, it won awards, no?” He asked as you clicked open the film for him to see.

“It did win a lot of awards, yeah.” You confirmed as he settled back against the cushions, his arm wrapped around you firmly, holding you against his side as you pressed play, “What do you want to order?” You asked, holding out the menu for him to see, “Chinese?”

“I’m not hungry. I had a business dinner before three o’clock. Order what you want, my dear. I’ll pay for it.” He offered as you hummed, “I have heard that the chow mein from there is good.”

You laughed at his pronunciation but nodded none the less, “I think I’ll get that then.” The menu had the number on the back, and you rang to order before returning your attention back to the movie that Vladimir had requested be put on. It was about a mute woman and her fish god lover. You quickly became entranced, warily pressed up against Vladimir as his hand circled your waist.

The blood pumping against him was a temptation he was now very able to resist. Hundreds of years meant he could control himself. It was a short leash, and he felt the urge to simply feel the crunch of bone and meat under his teeth intensely. His leash grew a little shorter as he ghosted his fingers over your wrist, feeling the thumping of a nervous heart underneath the skin. Dracula’s ear perked at the door and he took the excuse to escape the blood and flesh that felt so divine underneath his fingers. He heard you pause the movie and cursed that you were listening.

“Hi. Chinese delivery.” The driver offered him the bag of food.

The vampire smiled thinly, “Thank you.” He gave the man a twenty-pound note, “Now please take your multi-tool and cut your arm.” The words were carried on a heavy breeze, thick and laced with temptation. The delivery man’s eyes went cloudy, unfocused as he tugged a swiss army knife from his pocket and flicked open the blade. The vampire watched him cut the skin and hissed through his teeth, opening his mouth as the man held his arm higher in the air, letting blood fall from his skin. Dracula shuddered as he opened his mouth to catch the stray drops. He licked the skin with a cold tongue, smearing pink spit in his wake as he sucked fast mouthfuls of blood into his mouth, thankful all the curtains were drawn to hide him.

“Have you got enough money to pay?”

The vampire released the wound and licked the blood from his mouth, his meal settling in his stomach. He licked a drop of blood from the plastic bag handle and wiped at his mouth.

“Have a good evening, sir.” He spun his index finger and watched the delivery driver nod and disappear back towards his car, blood dripping down towards his fingers, “I’ve got enough don’t worry.” He clinked some coins in his pocket and closed the door as the driver pulled out of his drive and onto the street. He grabbed a tissue and wiped his face. There was only a small trickle of blood and he sucked at his teeth before he went to the kitchen to fetch you a plate and cutlery.

Vladimir smiled under your gaze as he entered the lounge again, “I got you a few things. I didn’t know whether you would eat it out of the box?” He placed the plate and cutlery down followed by your food.

“Thank you. You’re sweet.” You cooed at him as he sat back down, “Oh. I think they spilt some sauce on the box.” You grumbled at the splodge of blood on top of the plastic box. He felt his heart sink a little before you simply wiped it away with a curl of your nose. Dracula smiled as you tucked into the food, settled back at his side as you ate quietly. He restarted the movie, feeling relief flood his system as you didn’t question the mysterious red substance.

The beast purred at the idea of the next meal being you. His gripped your thigh gently to ground himself. You were not a meal to be eaten and wasted. He wouldn’t throw you at Death’s feet.

After a movie named ‘The Others’ you both decided it was getting to be late. You looked at the clock and hummed against his side, fingers curling into the black jumper over Vladimir’s chest. It was a fine make, expensive wool soft under your fingers, and you smiled sleepily up at him as he adjusted you, sitting you in his lap, your thighs either side of his own. It was intimate, but you found your heart soaring at the contact and at the idea of where it meant you both were with each other.

“Are you tired, my dear?” He asked softly, his nose pressed to your ear before he leaned down to kiss your shoulder, the smell of Myrrh intoxicating.

“Mmm.” You hummed, fingers playing with the ends of his beautifully wavy hair, the dark, black locks slipping through your fingers like snakes.

“Would you like to rest now?” Vladimir made a pleased noise at the attention to his hair.

Your fingers paused in his locks, “I’d like a shower…If that’s alright?�� You asked quietly.

“That is more than fine.” He nodded before letting you stand up, his cool fingers lingering against your hands as you stood, “You know where the bathroom is, yes?”

“First door on the right. I know.”

“I’ll bring you some fresh towels.” He promised as you left the room, closing the door behind you.

The vampire felt his stomach churn with an unknown sensation, the memory of you against him, burned into his skin like a fever.

The water was hot against your skin, soothing the ache in your back from working at the counter the whole day serving tourists. You rubbed at your skin with the minty smelling soap, enjoying the tingle of peppermint over your skin as you washed the lather of soap away. The wet room was slate and sparklingly clean. The glass fogged and you turned in the spray, admiring the chrome shelving and posh soaps and shampoos Vladimir had carefully lined up. A need burned in your stomach, but you ignored the temptation to stir the fire smouldering down there as you turned and swiped at the fog over the glass. Vladimir’s cool hands would make a better job of sating your desires. You were quick to dismiss the idea and turned back into the hot water. That was until the door creaked open behind you.

“I have brought you towels.” Vladimir spoke from the door before pausing, watching your skin disappear as the swiped area of the glass fogged back up, slowly making your form disappear from his view once more, “Forgive me…” He spoke loud enough to just be heard over the harsh spray of water, “But you are beautiful.” Vladimir complimented as he placed the pile of fresh towels on top of the toilet lid

Burning water did not cool your skin as you listened to his voice. You turned under the hot water as you listened to him step closer to the shower screens. You heart thudded in your chest, shaking your hands as you took a step closer to the glass as well.

“You are radiant.” Vladimir purred, “Gorgeous like a goddess. Something to be worshipped.” You looked at the figure beyond the foggy glass and watched him place his hand against the screen.

All of a sudden, you managed to find your voice, “Is that what you say to them all?” The words were half choked in your throat, but Vladimir heard them all the same.

“I have only said those words once before…and she is gone now.” He promised. You could feel the agony in his words and you glanced at the glass before wiping away the condensation to reveal his face, intense eyes looking into your own, despite not being able to see you until a moment ago, “She is dead and no other has ever…filled the hole.” He pressed his forehead to the glass. His dark eyes shimmered with a colour you had never seen before he smiled and turned away from you, “I will leave you. I apologise for being so forward.”

Before he could leave, you opened the shower door and grabbed for a towel, hiding your body from his eyes before he could see you again.

“I…I don’t.” Your mouth seized as his eyes turned darker, a smirk curling on his lips as he admired you, even hidden behind a towel.

“Won’t you let me see you?” Vladimir whispered, “Won’t you let me worship you?” He asked as he came closer, his hands reaching to cup your waist as he looked into your eyes.

Your heart thundered underneath his touch, “I don’t know if I should let you.”

Vladimir’s nose pushed under your chin as he smelt the heavy scent of the Myrrh perfume still clinging to your damp skin, “And why not? Why deny yourself such pleasure?”

You reached for his hair again and pushed it away from his cheek, “Because I don’t feel like I know you.” You confessed, “I don’t know who you really are.”

Vladimir looked at you, your faces close, your noses brushing together before he leaned down to place a single kiss to your lips.

Together, you melded against one another, hands clutching each other at you deepened the kiss a little. He pulled away as quickly as the feverishness began.

“I can tell you. Soon, I will tell you everything.” He promised as you looked at his handsome face. His eyes were wet, red at the corners before he hugged you tightly, “I…I think I feel something deeply for you. I understand this is a lot.” He confessed to you in a rush, shuddering against you as though he was crying.

“I…” Your mouth was dry, “I think I feel the same, but I don’t…I can’t explain it.” You whispered against his jumper.

Vladimir pushed his fingers into your flesh, as though you were going to disappear, “I can’t either.” He agreed, “But I know that I want to be with you…However you want me.” The man fell to his knees, “I am your servant.” The man’s hands grazed up your legs, slowly, dragging cold lines behind his fingertips as he looked up at you, hair falling over his eyes and cheeks.

You reached for his face with a soft smile, “I don’t want a servant.” He let you tug him back to his feet, “I want an equal.”

Vladimir’s lips met your own in a crush of passion, his hands flying to cup your cheeks as he held you as close as he could manage, his arms moving from your face to clutch your body close.

“Do you think you could love a monster?”

“If that monster loved me, I could.”

The sound of an alarm sounding woke you up. It was loud, a persistent beeping noise against the drowsiness in your head. It was sharp and ear piercing. You rushed to find your phone at the noise, rustling in the duvet to find it. After a moment, you opened your eyes, and found the phone on top of the nightstand. You silenced your alarm and groaned into the room as you tried to force the sleep from yourself. The room was silent now. You dragged your phone from the stand and squinted at the time before rolling over and realising you were alone. It was nine in the morning and Vladimir was nowhere to be seen. You sat up with the sheets and looked down at yourself. You were naked yet there was no ache in your body. There was no mess either. Nothing had happened. You remembered laying on top of Vladimir, kissing him between tales from his homeland as you listened and learned. The tale of the beast in the castle. The River Princess. The fog in the hills. All of it fascinated you. You’d listened to the sound of his voice, late into the evening, tracing patterns on his skin as he rumbled with laughter.

The bedside table rustled as you placed your hand on it. You frowned and gripped a piece of paper. It was labelled with your name. You unfolded the paper and looked at the note inside. Vladimir had an early meeting to attend. A sadness curled in your chest as you sat up properly and peered at the grandness of Vladimir’s own bedroom. You got out of the bed and walked over to his vanity before frowning. All the mirrors were covered in black silk, hidden out of view. You pulled back one of the sheets and looked in the floor standing mirror. It was in good shape yet old, like an antique. Your own face looked back before you re-covered the mirror. There wasn’t anything different in Vladimir’s room until you caught sight of the great portrait on the old chimney breast. A painted man looked down at you, a sword laid across his lap. You looked at the sword mounted underneath the painting and gazed in awe at the sharpness and magnificence of them both. Wondering if he was a collector, you took one of Vladimir’s red robes from his door and tied it around your waist before venturing to get some breakfast.

Dracula hissed as the door closed, blood spurting from his mouth, his latest meal laid in the soil next to him as he purred, claws slipping further into the earth as he listened to you move. The sound of silk over skin made him gurgle again as he closed his eyes, wishing that the night could replay over and over in his mind.

‘I know you have gone home but thank you for spending last night with me. I adored it. Will I see you again soon?’

You smiled down at your phone as you paused eating your lunch inside your shop. You replied with a witty comment and waited for his reply before going back to your lunch, thinking on the way Vladimir’s hands could hold you in other ways. Your brain skittered into the gutter for the rest of the afternoon.

Anne held the glass slide in her hand as she tried to comprehend what she was holding in her hand. It was beyond what she had seen before. Nothing compared. No disease had such virulence nor the ability to do what she had seen from Dracula’s own cells. His lymphatic cells were an amazing thing to watch, simultaneously killing and repairing the red blood cells, making them immortal. The blood she had originally was just as active now in her hands. She’d injected a rat with a small does, just to see what happened. The beast had appeared unfazed initially. Slowly, it had died off, its legs stopping working before she did the kindness and put the animal to sleep. It hadn’t died from the drugs. She ended up having to take the creature’s head off. Immortality. The rat was impervious to chemicals and drugs that could kill. It was an amazing thing, but Anne wasn’t swayed. She knew what the blood meant, and what it was capable of. A constant state of death and life. A curse upon those who were infected with Dracula’s blood. Damnation from God. Rejection of the light was not curable. She needed to tell the vampire that. He was beyond the help of mortals. Damned forever. He could live as a hunted beast or die by her hands.

“A frown makes you look older.” Dracula rumbled from underneath her. Red eyes opened in her shadow and Anne jumped backwards as the beast slid from her shadow and coalesced into a physical form. The shadows swirled into the human form of Dracula and Anne levelled him with a look of contempt.

“Has six hundred years taught you no manners?” She huffed as he drew the vial of the vampire’s blood from her coat and held it up for him to see. There was a little more than half left, “I wanted to tell you about this.” She tossed the blood back at the vampire.

Dracula caught the vial and took the top from the vial, smelling his own blood before he stuck out a pointed, long tongue, a mouth full of pointed teeth opening wide as he took his own blood back into himself.

“What did you find, Anne?” He asked as he tucked his hands into his pockets, licking blood from his bottom lip.

“Everything I expected to find. Your own cells are killing themselves and then repairing at a rate that is explosive. You shouldn’t be moving at all.” She huffed, “Though I suppose you aren’t alive. You’re a monster. A walking corpse.” Anne took a holy blade from her sleeve and watched as the vampire’s hair waved over his head in a mind of its own.

“You raise a blade to me after I gave you the answer to eternal life?” Dracula’s voice boomed off the concrete of the rooftop, “After I gave you the answers to everything?” He snarled as his hair covered his face, blood red eyes burning through the strands as he took his hands from his pockets and watched the hands grow and shift into snarling curls of shadowy monsters.

“I raise my blade at a beast and a monster. A creature that has killed for fun, enjoyment and sport. You enjoy all of this. You enjoy playing with people like a game!” She hissed at him as she drew a long sword from her belt. A sword and a dagger. Dracula’s mouth opened up the sides of his face as he faced the hunter, eyes peering from a moving creature of shadows.

“This is the face of life!” He howled at Anne, shadows bursting from him as dogs howled at the night sky below.

“You are nothing but corruption and death!” She shouted back, her feet planted firmly on the floor as the vampire hissed and spat across from her. Without another thought, she sent a small blade flying towards his red eyes. The shadows moved into two pieces, and the dagger flew through him before she was upon him with blessed steel. Her swipes swished through nothing but air as Dracula soared into the sky above her and dived, great clawed talons scratching at her face. Anne launched her dagger at him as he climbed once more and grinned at the vampire howled, blood spurting from his grey skinned side.

With a growl, she watched the vampire soar into the night sky, escaping with her blade lodged under his ribs. The night sky was littered with cold looking stars, clouds rolling over the moon as she watched the bat wings disappear behind the church and rooftops. It was a moment later that she looked at the scratches on her arms and the trail of wet saliva over one of them. Dracula had tasted her blood. He knew her plans, or at least pieces of them. She cursed the beast as she got to her feet, sheathing her old sword before collecting the holy throwing daggers from the rooftop. Anne tucked her coat back around her weapons and looked at her ward watch which was clipped to her pocket. Her shift started in an hour. She had enough time to return home and clean herself before she had dead bodies to look at and examine.

“I’ll finish my family’s work, Dracula…” She opened the stairs, “Starting with that new toy of yours.” The stairwell doors closed with a resounding slam.

#dracula #dracula x reader #count dracula #vlad dracula tepes #vladimir dracula #count dracula x reader #vladimir dracula x reader #dracula x female reader #dracula 1992 #bram stoker's dracula #bram stoker's dracula 1992 #count dracula x female reader #vladimir dracula x female reader #fanfiction #reader insert #fanfic #my writing

115 notes · View notes