“you’re in MY WORLD, you can stay. (but you belong to me.)”
Starting off the 2023 with a fixation that won’t leave me, His Majesty himself, King Sam himself!!! I was robbed of my favourite couple from getting a royal au, so when @taelonsamada reminded me I can write, I said, “ Fuck it, I’ll give it to them!!!”
A wonderful shoutout to @gingerbreadmonsters for beta reading this fic for me!!!! She is the absolute best and I adore her so much!!!!
[Also tagging @haradasaya for being the biggest King Sam fan I know and @epsi-l0n, @cheolsk, @daveyistheloml and @dollscircus because they are all dolls!!!]
CW: Typical Imperium Violence™️, King Sam is an asshole in love, Darlin’ is (not for long) a wolf in love, Manipulation, Sam invoking Darlin’ for reasons he can justify, Darlin' is gender neutral but they are called a 'bitch', Explicit mentions of multiple characters being turned, The only turning that is explicitly written is consensual, Sooooo much fucking around with the canon
—
Wolf senses are a blessing.
They allow the shifter to see predators and prey from far distances. Their sense of smell can take in the scent of blood and death, allowing them to avoid those areas. And every pup was told to run the other way if they heard a scream in the distance, lest they end up screaming by the end of the night.
A wolf’s senses are wonderful to escape danger.
But what happens when their heart overrides the danger their brain perceives?
Darlin’ knows this is stupid. They should be with the rest of the pack, ready to bolt to Keaton territory and claim it as their own. But they can’t. Call it stupidity or recklessness for even thinking they can change him. Darlin’ knew why they wanted to try. And it was worse than any reason a person could come up with.
Darlin’ loves him.
And isn’t love enough of a reason to try?
The scent of blood washed over them, but they didn’t waiver. Long had they become numb to the smell of blood. They didn’t want to become desensitized to it, never had they wished that the sight of the dead and decaying to be a common one.
The Imperium had said otherwise.
They weren’t walking to the Imperial King though. He had long been dealt with, they all saw it. Someone had made him kneel for them. The stubborn king, who rarely compromised on anything, was taking orders that were unbefitting of the lowest ranked humans.
It had made their stomach curl when they recognized the boot he had been licking.
The southern drawl on the PA urged them to run to the spire.
‘Never fall for a leech.’ It was advice they had forced down their throats, beaten into their skull. It was vampires that ruined their life and led them to the Shaw Pack. It was a vampire that had killed their Alpha and should have killed them.
(The guilt of that night gnaws at them during their midnight escapades with the current king before he stole the crown. There they go, falling for the same creature that time and time again ruined their life. But he’s different. He loves them.)
The walk to the throne had been the same as they remember it. Same long hallway, tall pillars, stained glass and from the archway, you could see the royal family.
Now the pillars were cracked, the once beautiful stained glass laid shattered at their feet…
…and the former king stood at the archway. Still. Deadly still.
They flinched at the sight of the king, fighting the urge to rip him to shreds. Make him pay for everything he has done to the people. To Sam. To them. But seeing him on the verge of tears yet unable to cry, body fighting itself to move, the look in his eyes begging for them to save him… Was this fate too cruel for a man like him?
He just had his crown stripped from him, literally it seems judging by the lack of jewelry on his head. It threw them off a bit, so used to the former king wearing the iconic crown of his family. So where had it gone?
Before they could call out to the former king, the southern drawl they love reverberated throughout the room. “Welcome Darlin’, you like what I did to the place?”
Looking past the tranced tyrant (though a part of them felt whatever he was under was stronger than a trance) they saw Sam sitting on the throne, a crown resting on his leg. Damn it all he looked good sitting there, leaned back with his leg spread, but the chaos outside had kept them focused. In a quiet voice, fearing talking any louder would show how fucking scared they were, they asked, “what did you do to him?”
“Aww Darlin’, you haven’t noticed? Be a good wolf and feel his core for me, yea?” He let out an insufferable chuckle, and they knew it was because he heard the spike in their pulse when he called them that. Doing as he said, Darlin’ felt the core of the former king. Instead of feeling the blazing heat, the core felt cold. Like it was dead.
“You turned him.” They looked up, stepped away from the young blood and paced towards the new king. “Sam, you fucking turned him? After everything you said about feeling sick when you were becoming a mass maker? Was that all a lie? And what the fuck are you doing letting vampires run loose on the streets?”
From the distance, they could hear a young boy’s scream. They squeezed their eyes shut, trying to block out. They knew that feeling all too well.
“There are vulnerable people who are gonna be turned because of this shit.”
Before Darlin’ could continue, Sam got up from the throne and walked toward the wolf. His pace unnerved them. He didn’t even have to trance them. His demeanor, his confidence, was enough to paralyze and keep them in place. Thoughts were racing through their head with every step he took.
‘Oh fuck, oh fuck, maybe it was a bad idea to piss off a massmaker king.’
‘Who cares? We can take his ass in a fight! Fuck his majesty!’
‘But this is Sam! He wouldn’t hurt us! He loves us!’
As the massmaker came closer, Darlin’ clenched their eyes shut and braced themselves for the pain to come. The different threads of their manic thoughts silenced, leaving a single idea echoing in their core.
‘Oh God, please don't bite me. I can’t go through that again.’
Except the bite never happened.
Darlin’ felt a cool object placed on their head, almost like a metal hat.
‘So that's where his crown went... Why did he put it one me though?’
“Can I see those pretty eyes of yours, Darlin’?” He pressed a gentle kiss on their hairline. “Please? I promise I won’t trance you. You know I’d never do that to you.”
They opened their eyes slowly, and were met with the dangerous silver eyes they fell in love with. This was the Sam they knew. The gentle smile and caring eyes. The reassuring hand placed on their back. The man who they had unloaded years of pain and anger and resent onto, and he carried their baggage like it was a badge of honour. They knew he was down there somewhere.
Sam leaned in and kissed them, deep and slow. A chuckle rumbled through his chest when Darlin’ became pliant in his arms, just how he likes it. “There’s my pretty Darlin’. Was scared you were gonna make me do something I’d regret.” He held their hand and guided them back to the throne, where he took a seat. He patted his lap. “Why don’t ya take a seat on this fine throne, Darlin’.”
The wolf shook their head and snapped out of the dazed haze they were in. “Sam, I- you-,” they tried to come up with something to say and the massmaker growled, cutting them off.
“Are you defying your king, my love? I told you to sit, and that means you’re gonna sit that fine ass down on this throne. Understood?” They nodded and straddled his lap, placing their hands behind his neck. Sam let out a pleased sigh and started to kiss their neck. He adored the shivers that he (and only he) was causing and squeezed their thigh to show his appreciation. “Now was that so hard baby? All I ask is for you to be good for me.” He leaned over to kiss their cheek and whispered into their ear, “and I know you love to be good for me.”
It was easy to get lost in his touch, his kisses, his love. They can try to forget the mayhem happening outside. Inside the palace walls, on the lap of their new king (the word mate crossed their mind), they can forget everything.
Their original pack.
David and Quinn.
The screams of the innocent being damned to a life they never asked for.
…Wait, no, that’s not what they want. Curse their fucking hearing.
“Sam- Sam, please let me talk- mmph!” Anytime they tried to open their mouth to speak, Sam would shush and silence them with a kiss. His hand on the back of their head was gripping their hair, forcing them to keep their lips locked with them. Darlin’ tried to push him off them, between his strength and the fact they want to kiss him made it harder to fight him.
But even vampires need to breathe.
He pulled away from them, panting as if he ran a marathon. There was a wicked gleam in his eyes and a predatory smile on his face. He was the hunter and they were his prey.
(In other circumstances, they wouldn’t have minded being his prey, but this was not the time.)
“Wait- before you kiss me again, I need to ask you something.” The desperation in Darlin’s voice made his eyes soften and caress their cheek.
“Anything, Darlin’.”
“Isn’t this taking things too far? Becoming king? Sending vampires to hunt for territory? We got our revenge against the Imperium, we don’t need to start another bloody massacre.”
Sam’s eyes darkened. “Do you not love me?” He adjusted in his seat to sit straighter, towering above the wolf in his lap. “Because it sounds like you don’t.”
Their eyes widened and they spoke to defend themself. “Of course I love you! But innocent people are dying because you decided to let all hell loose!”
Sam sighed and adjusted the crown on Darlin’s head.
“Do you know why you’re wearing the crown even though I’m king?”
Above all else, Darlin’ was a curious wolf, and when they were given an opportunity to get some answers, they’ll snatch it with their claws. “...Yea actually, the fuck is up with that?”
“It’s because you’re deserving of the crown.” He laughed at the adorably confused face they made. “I am a monster. I’ve done terrible things to earn my titles, so despite the fact that I am king, the crown is too good, too beautiful for a person like me.” He paused for a moment to admire how the rubies and gold adorned his wolf’s head. “You? God, Darlin’, you’re the only ray of sunshine in this bleak world. So beautiful, and so good.”
“I really am not that good.”
Sam scoffed. He was scandalized by any implication that his Darlin’ was less than holy. “Oh really? I say you’re plenty good for trying to protect the people.”
“Sam, they’re innocent. They don’t deserve to-” He shook his head and thumbed their lip.
“Innocent people don’t scream and call you a ‘bitch’ for simply existing.”
They squirmed in his hold, the insult unfortunately packing more of a punch than they hoped.
Darlin’ opened and closed their mouth, trying to rebuttal his point. Their childhood memories bubbled back to the surface, the ones where they were berated and beaten, for simply being a wolf. They had thought that once they got to Dahlia, it would get better, but that was wishful thinking.
And the Imperium was never kind to wishful thinkers.
So people, empowered and otherwise, hadn’t treated them nicely, but still.
“They’re still people, isn’t that enough?”
Sam pushed Darlin’s hair away from their face and chuckled. “You’re allowed to hurt the people who hurt you, my love. I know you though. You’d never consider that. So let me hurt them for you. Let me protect you. I’ll get my hands dirty while you’re safe with that crown.” He held their face and pulled them closer. “I would do anything to protect you.”
Butterflies fluttered in their stomachs at Sam’s declaration. It had been… no, they had never been protected like that. Not as a child when their birth pack was being ripped to shreds by vampires. Not when Quinn was two seconds away from killing them. Asher may have saved them, but he hadn’t protected them. Not like Sam has.
“What about my pack?”
Sam stopped playing with their hair for a brief moment, pondering on what to do.
“Tell you what? I can send some progenies to help them out of Dahlia. I can’t help them much when they get out though.”
Darlin’s eyes sparkled at the suggestion. After all the trouble and pain they caused the pack, the least they could do was find them a safe way out. “Thank you Sam!” They leaned in and gave him a kiss to show his appreciation. He chuckled at their eagerness to help their pack, basking in the warmth of their good natured soul. A soul he refuses to let get tainted by anything.
“Of course Darlin’, Lord knows I’d do anything for you.” He placed a hand on the juncture of Darlin’s neck and shoulder, thumbing their pulse point. “But there is something I need you to do.”
Through a dazed gaze and a happy smile, Darlin’ replied, “anything.”
“Stay by my side forever.”
“...Does forever mean you wanna…?”
He kissed Darlin’s pulse point and nipped at it. “It only makes sense, no? I want you by my side forever, and that won’t happen if you’re mortal.” He made a good point.
But were they ready to do that? Give up their wolf form?
(A faint howl reverberated through the spire, but it wasn’t coming from them.)
The wolf within them had always brought a sense of comfort and protection to them. It was their wolf that had saved them from everything. There wasn’t anything that brought them more peace than shifting to their fur. They needed their shifter magic to feel safe.
But Sam brought that same safety, that same peace. So it would be a fair trade, right? They’ll give up their internal sense of protection for an external one.
Wolf claws for vampire fangs.
He kissed their cheek and whispered in their ear, “have you made your decision, Darlin’?”
Their body relaxed, already making peace with their inevitable but welcomed demise.
“Turn me. Please Sam?”
(The distant howl came back, even louder this time. Where was it coming from?)
His soft smile turned wicked. “Anything and everything for you, my love.” He played with their hair, and Darlin’ melted in his hand. Their eyes slowly closed, waiting for the pleasure to come. Sam had once told them that the intention behind the bite is what gives it feeling, and it was clear that he wanted to give them a sweet death.
He placed his forehead on theirs, their wolf adoring the act. “This bite won’t hurt you in the slightest. I won’t let it, and I’ll be here to take care of you, for forever and a day.”
Darlin’ giggled at his declaration and promise. “Forever and a day,” they repeated.
He smiled at the promise. “Then let’s get this show on the road.” He kissed their pulse point as a final reassurance before gently latching his fangs to their neck.
When the smallest amount of blood touched he moaned, pulling them closer. He shivered and growled, “your fucking blood- It’s what Gods would drink as offerings.” He went back to drink more of the ambrosia he adores.
His feeding session became more feral the more blood he drank. Sam couldn’t sit still with their blood flowing through veins, so he grinded up into them. If his excess energy can bring them pleasure, then that’s what he’ll do.
Darlin’ felt more lightheaded with every ounce of their life force is drained from them, but they couldn’t care. Sam’s deathly grip was consuming their being, both literally and figuratively, in the best way possible.
For once they trusted their life and death to someone else and fuck if that feeling ain’t worth dying for. They crave the security Sam brings and wants to be smothered in it. If it were up to them, they’d ask Sam to keep them buried in his heart, away and safe from the cruel world they don’t belong in.
Sam would do exactly that if he could. He can’t, but this is the best.
Before they died, Darlin’ heard one final order from their King.
“Rest easy, my Darlin’. I’ll make sure that your death is better than your life.”
Then with an unrestrained smile and a final breath, it all went to black.
(Was it just them, or did the howl sound familiar?)
—
Once the turning process was complete and he was sure they were breathing again, Sam carried his Darlin’s limp body back to their room. He loves calling it that. It doesn’t belong to either of them individually, nor does it belong to the old king. (He can make do with the bed in the dungeon, alongside the other wolf.) It was theirs, a distinction that warmed his undead heart.
He gently lowered his mate and placed the former wolf onto their bed. Oh, how he so wished to lay beside them and hold them close, and play with their hair while they sleep peacefully. But there was work to be done.
He kissed their forehead, doing a onceover their gorgeous body to make sure they were ok. Once everything was up to his standards, he covered their body with a blanket and left the room.
He closed the door and called out to his most beloved progenies. Within seconds, two young vampires appeared before their maker and king.
“There’s a wolf pack heading up north, the Shaws. I need you to deal with them for me.”
He could feel his more feral progeny aching at the thought of tasting wolf blood. “Want us to drain them dry?
Sam shook his head. “No, no, I want you to turn them.” He looked over his shoulder to the door that held Darlin’. “They need all the protection, and what better than a guard of former wolves?”
Fred stood up and said, “we’ll take care of everything, your majesty.” And with a nod from their king, the two progenies left, ready to carry out his wishes.
Any remorse or guilt that Sam may have felt was crushed by Darlin’s lingering feelings about the pack. Why should he care about anyone who makes his mate feel like that?
He walked back into the room where his most precious progeny laid. He sat down beside them and caressed their face, planning the eternity ahead of them. It was when he was in his deepest thoughts did Darlin’ woke up.
They tried to get up, wanting to stretch out their corpse body, but Sam pushed them back down and shushed them. “Shhh, it’s alright. How are you feelin’?”
Darlin’ leaned into his hand on their face. “Mmmm… sleepy… tired… lil hungry… but good, real fuckin’ good…” Their blissed out smile made Sam giddy like a school boy. He did that to them and he plans on continuing to do so.
“That’s normal Darlin’, your body is adjustin’ to the new magic. It’ll settle itself out soon.” He tilted their chin up to look him in the eye. “There’s just one more thing I need to do.”
“What is it, baby?”
“I as your maker, Sam Collins, invoke you, my darlin’ progeny, to forget the Shaw Pack ever existed and forbid you from going to the dungeons of this castle.”
—
Later that day, when wolf howls consume all of Dahlia, Darlin’ will feel hollow, a sense of guilt will overcome them. The howls should mean something to them, but for the life of them, they can’t remember.
Sam will enter the room and say something, maybe kiss them or maybe something more, that will make their heart flutter. They forget about the emptiness in their heart and memories.
He’ll later introduce them to their new royal guard, ignoring any complaints from the former that they never needed any protection. He’ll introduce each and everyone of them and Darlin’ won’t know who any of them are. He stops at the guard in the middle, Asher was his name. The name rings a bell, but they can’t place it.
They meet Asher’s eyes.
Was that recognition on his face?
They shake their head. No, they must seeing things. Yeah, that’s what it is. Darlin’ has never met any of these people, so why should they remember them?
They don’t see the glare His Majesty is sending the former wolf pack, reminding of the consequences of what will happen if any of them says a word.
Their other, poor Alpha has suffered enough down in the dungeons and Asher had just got him back.
i was thinking of finishing this piece fully but life kicks in sometimes and you know, the hair is not rendered at all. but this is about as good as its gonna get for now.
the idea of this concept, david as lucifer, is david’s grief and failures. especially in imperium/cataclysm or inversion. where even the mightiest falls dead at some point.
annaxmalina
jacobvanloon
janainaart
stormborns
germansingergirl
