RESCUE MISSION …!
NOTE … honestly fuck lenore I may kin her but she’s fucked uppppp also this show made my vocabulary worse I swear I’ve been cursing more because of it
CHARACTER(S) … hector forgemaster (netflix)
WARNINGS … s3 hector
EXTRA … gn!reader, angsty bits
As the sun’s rays rained down on the striking hillside castle of Styria, your eyes fell upon the steep, grassy incline that led up the side. But before you could falter, your mind produced a pair of sorrowful blue eyes.
This was the least you could do.
You steeled yourself with a renewed determination, filling your lungs with the crisp winter air. You had to do this. After securing your horse in the forest, you wrapped your grass green cloak around your goosebumped skin and set off, trudging through the blades of ice-dewed grass.
After the fall of Dracula, you had searched for your lover to confirm his safety. What was meant to take only a few minutes spiralled into hours, then days to weeks, and so on. You soon realised that he hadn’t disappeared, but had been captured. Your sweet, gentle lover had been taken.
Cool air numbed your nerves and fingertips alike as you jogged. A horse was loud, so you had no choice but to go on foot; not the most efficient way, but the best way not to be caught.
By the time you reached the cold, stone wall, you were panting, deep, rushed breaths freezing your lungs through your nose. You held your breath to slow down the desperate intakes of air, using the moment to turn your cloak inside-out, hiding the bright colour. A moment passed, before you heard the scraping of armour pass by and walk off.
Not wasting the opportunity, you slipped in silently, sweeping into the dungeons just as a shadow would follow its master. It took you a moment to adjust to the dim light, but the sight made you wish you hadn’t.
There he was. Swollen, bruised and left for dead.
You couldn’t believe it.
“My love…” you swallowed, reaching a shaking hand for the bar. “What did they do to you?”
The softness of his normally-golden skin was long gone, replaced by harsh, jagged lines of pure muscle and bone, shown only by the lack of food and water. He seemed inhuman, forcefully reduced into something lesser through the chipping of his dignity and basic needs.
“Fuck…” he stirred, voice cracking with a dry edge. “Am I going mad? I’m hallucinating…”
You could feel the tears spring to your eyes at the sound of his voice. Somehow, you’re hoped that you were wrong, that you saw wrong, but your fragile hopes were shattered when you heard his croaking voice.
“Hector… you’re not hallucinating,” you spoke softly. “Please, my love. Listen to me.”
Those haunting eyes flicked up at you, widening in disbelief. “(#)?”
“Yes, it’s me. Can you stand?” You asked, eyes flickering back to the sleeping guard behind you. “I’m here to get you out.”
“(#),” he repeated, voice smoothing out in slight as he spoke for a third time. “I… I can stand, yes. Give me a moment—”
He stood up with some effort, letting out a soft groan. He really looked like he was in pain: face swollen and bruised, eyes looking as if they’d seen too much for anyone, ever. He reached out to touch you, hands first finding your waist, then your face.
“I’ve missed you so much…” he breathed, the crease in his brow deepening as he studied your features, basking in your presence as if it really made him stronger.
He flinched when your hand landed on his waist, applogising softly to you when he noticed. You understood exactly how Dracula felt at that moment; you too would’ve killed all vampires if given the chance, right about now.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, kissing him once, then twice, deeply, “I’m so, so sorry. Can you forgive me, Hector?”
“It wasn’t your fault,” he responded, bringing your hand up to kiss your knuckles. “Just… promise not to let me go again. I love you.”
“I love you too, Hector, and I’m sorry.”
taglist ;; @shadestar413 , @shsl-supreme-simp , @spleen-official
