[So this is a x reader fiction, but also a sort of au where instead of the fledgling being of a known clan, they’re caitiff. Speaking of, uses they/them gn descriptors to make character inserts easier :)]
There were many things that a prince would have to deal with. Seeing as LaCroix was sent to one of the most politically charged places at the time, he was dealing with evens more than most of the other princes appointed by the Camarilla. He was also acutely aware that this was on purpose as though he had proven himself to be capable of the job, he also wasn’t too concerned about who he had to upset and step over to get the position in the first place; something that certainly didn’t make him the most beloved of people. But, if there was one thing that Sebastian LaCroix enjoyed it was tackling a challenge- and, even more so proving his many detractors wrong. For this reason, he was determined and at least for the most part able to handle all that LA had to throw at him. He wouldn’t say that he was thriving, however.
While he was handling everything, it was just by the skin of his teeth, no matter how well he hid that fact. There was also the fact that he was no fool, and knew that the other leaders in the area weren’t fools themselves. They had been here longer than him, and therefore knew the landscape, political or otherwise better than he did. And, though LaCroix was loathed to admit it, some of them had been in a leadership position in the Camarilla much longer than he had been and could tell that he wasn’t as firm in his confidence on handling everything as he tried to put on. Most of them were content enough to sit back a wait for him to hang his own noose, which he didn’t mind as much as some might think; again, one of his driving forces for everything was proving people wrong. What did bother him was the one person in the Camarilla that was actually trying to undermine him at every chance he could get- one Maximilian Strauss.
The two of them both knew what Strauss’ intentions, but they were both, especially LaCroix, very aware that if either of them were to be more forward with their dislike for each other, showing it more as distaste, then there would be repercussions, not only from the local Anarchs thinking that infighting would be the go-ahead to try to attack, but also the higher ranks in the Camarilla itself would think that they were both unfit for their assigned positions. However, even with this slight problem, he was still pressing on. LaCroix had things balanced, no matter how precariously. And, as long as nothing else came to upset that balance then he would be fine.
That, of course, was when you came along.
There had been news that there was a vagrant of some kind that had come into the area and had, very sloppily embraced a childe. The kindred in question managed to get killed while being apprehended; it seemed they were rather young and uneducated on what he was as he died in a rather unavoidable way. That left you. Usually, there would be a trial of some sort, but this was an odd sort of situation. Seeing as the sire was a caitiff, you would be one as well. Again, there were usually established procedures, but with the Anarchs' current string of actions, if the Camarilla were to follow any of the usual procedures for caitiffs, namely execution in this case, there was no telling what sort of uproar would be caused for the proverbial underdog in this case. So, something else had to be done for you.
There was plenty of debate spanning the entire night on what to do with the thing that was staked and paralyzed in the middle of the meeting room. Every time there was something suggested, there was another party that would either express their concern or dismiss the idea entirely. And, of course, as prince LaCroix had to do his best to keep the peace between everyone as well as remember such things as what suggestions came from where. Just as it seemed that there was going to be no solution reached, someone that had been quiet the whole night, and that LaCroix wished stayed silent, finally spoke. Strauss, who either had been mulling over all the information given by his peers or waiting for the perfect moment to spring his plan into action (knowing the fiend perhaps a bit of both) decided to give his suggestion a go.
“If we cannot follow traditional procedure because we do not want to give other parties the chance to call us uncaring and antiquated, perhaps we should try to give them reason to believe the opposite?” All eyes were on the Tremere, and it seemed like that was exactly where he wanted them. Seeing as the rest of the primogen had already commenced with a buzz of questioning and doubtful whispers, Strauss took that as his cue to explain further. “Seeing as this young one is not affiliated with any clan, there could be opportunity for one of the more… non-Camarilla affiliated clans to be reintroduced into the fold. It could work as the first step to easing tensions between the both of us.”
“And, how would we know if this kid is even Anarch leaning clan?” The Nosferatu primogen rasped from the darker corner that he was sitting partially shadowed in; always a dramatic soul, that one. Strauss gave an acknowledging nod to the question before answering, “I would be willing to use my abilities to aid in that search. However, only if this childe could be deemed to be a viable member of the Camarilla. No reason to waste the time and resources if we do not plan on deviating from our usual course of action.” This sent another wave of murmurs through the other kindred in the room. All were taking part in the speculation except for Strauss and LaCroix. Not only was LaCroix prone to keep to himself as his opinion was to be as unbiased as possible, but his second reason for this is that he and the Tremere were too busy staring each other down, silently daring each other to say something.
LaCroix knew that Strauss was planning something, and that something would most likely be at his expense. But, once again, they both knew to keep appearances, especially in a place like this, so things would have to play out as they would in any other official scenario; no accusations could be made here. It didn’t take long before the others seemed to catch onto what Strauss was doing, and while they didn’t trust him, they hated the prince more. “Who would be in charge of the fledgling’s education?” Another asked, doing his part to set up this plan he was just picking up on. “Yes, we cannot expect them to simply know our ways from the start.” Someone else aided in this ploy. “I was thinking that the good prince could take that role. After all, he should know our ways better than anyone else here, given his title.” Strauss said once there was others on his side, and less fear of repercussion.
This annoyed LaCroix more than anything else; though the only sign of this he showed outwardly was a slight twitch of the nose as he willed away a scowl. This was nothing more than facing a group of schoolyard bullies, all going for him because he was the proverbial, “new kid.” He wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of beating him down, and more importantly, he was going to give himself the satisfaction of proving their assessment of his character wrong. So, he straighten his shoulders, slightly turned up his nose to match his attitude, and boasted, “I believe that would be a wise idea as well.” Strauss and the others almost seemed surprised that he so quickly and willingly called their bluff. LaCroix didn’t give them a chance to respond before he continued, “As the local prince, it is my responsibility to be aware of the needs of my fellow kindred, as well as keeping the masquerade from being broken. Instructing this childe and keeping them in my charge would be the union of both these things.”
“Well, then, it seems at least two parties agree on this course of action.” Strauss grinned like the serpent he is while letting the others know where he stood. Between some of the others either wanting to try and trip up LaCroix any way possible, and the remainder just wanting to get back to their havens for the approaching morning, it didn’t take much longer or much more effort to get them to agree. Soon, they were all departing, and LaCroix was left alone with his thoughts, his sheriff, and his newly acquired childe. It couldn’t be that difficult to get this stray kindred to know their ways and perhaps even be a beneficial acquaintance for him; in a political sense if nothing else.
Sebastian LaCroix x Reader pt. 2 Difficult Lessons
There was the sounds of footsteps approaching. When LaCroix looked up he saw his sheriff with someone that he could only assume was the childe from the night before; except for now they looked quite different because they were... well, they were clean. There was plenty that still needed to be done to make them even remotely fit the Camarilla visage, but this would do for now. The most important thing was to teach them about how they were to behave themselves in kindred society and why they had to do so. Being a learned man, LaCroix was convinced that he could do so in a week or so.
There was noway that he could have been anymore wrong.
After about forty-five minutes he had only managed to get this mule of a person past the very base of the very beginning of what being a kindred was. "So, we don't call ourselves vampires, but that's what we are. People aren't calling me a child, but rather a, "childe," with an E, which means that I'm a new vam- uh- kindred. And, we we can't let that humans know that we aren't human any more for some reason?" Based on the tone of their voice they still weren't sure about a single thing that they just said. With a heavy, exasperated sigh LaCroix stood and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had met many, many kindred form your clan or else he would have thought that maybe that would have something to do with how dense your skull seemed to be. "I have somewhere very important I have to be for the next hour." He groaned as he headed to the door. "By the time I return I expect you to have learned... at least something!" With that he stormed out of the room, the sheriff right behind him.
As soon as the prince( which the confused child learned was simply a title, and he wasn't in fact royalty) was out of earshot, they immediately mimicked his tone, "Learn at least something!" before snorting in anger. "Learn something, my ass! What am I even supposed to do with these old books by myself?" They dropped the one in their hands onto the large table with a slight bang and a cloud of dust. With a few coughs that waved their hand in front of their face to shoo away the offending dust. "Oh, he should just wait until I get the hang of this whole vampire thing! I'll build up his trust and then take him out to the middle of the ocean. And, when he least expects it... BAM! Down he goes! 'No, officer! I don't know what happened. He told me he was going swimming and never came back.'" They started to flip lazily through one of the old books before continuing to plot. "I'll meet the king of the vampires, or whoever and convince him to put prince snobby pants in front of a firing squad or something!" Directly after saying this there was the sound of someone clearing their voice. Turning greeted the kindred with the sight of LaCroix standing in the doorway.
Now, LaCroix knew that there wasn't a reason to fear the one in front of him as in this point of their life he could easily take them down himself if need be. He did however know that this behavior would be dangerous if it continued after they had gotten the hang over everything. He was also very aware on how to knock a young one like this down a few pegs. LaCroix looked them directly in the eyes and sternly told his would be assassin, "Your blood rations for the evening have been lessened. Do not make me take them away entirely." He then calmly turned around and walked out the door.
The sheriff was waiting for him down the hall in front of the meeting room. Before LaCroix entered he looked over to his behemoth of a bodyguard and stated as he gave a nod back to the room he just came from, "Remind me to never go swimming with our young associate in there." The sheriff had no idea what LaCroix was talking about
[finally getting this up here. Just something I think I forgot to say on the first one, this is slightly based on the story of My Fair Lady, so the reader insert is a bit headstrong and has no real inclination of fancy society manners, something that LaCroix seeks to change as he is seen as the surrogate sire.]
The following night started with the sound of many things crashing, doors slamming open, and thunderous footfalls of frantic running. All that you were aware of happening was suddenly being cornered by someone that you had gone out with, and waking up in an unfamiliar place. Truthfully, if you were to stop and think a bit more, you would have remembered a fuzzy time of being somewhere else, somewhere much dingier than the lux penthouse you were now in; however, you could not be troubled with stopping to think as you were too busy flailing about in pursuit of an exit. Realistically, this apartment, though fancy for an apartment, wasn’t even that much larger that a typical one-story house. It was the panic that was making it labyrinthine.
You must have been borderline frenzied and bouncing back and forth between the same three rooms somehow, and LaCroix saw his life grow more difficult by the second as you struggled to do something as menial as open a new door. Eventually, the door leading into his office finally flung open, causing the sheriff’s hands to twitch instinctively and calm themselves before he carried out his usual means of violent protection. You stood there and stared at the two of them, trying to parse out something of your situation. Not wanting to afford any more of his time for you to try to come to conclusions yourself (something that would be virtually impossible seeing the circumstances). LaCroix stood from his chair to introduce himself and start your journey into understanding your new life. “Good evening. I am sure that you are wondering-“
“WHO ARE YOU CLOWNS AND WHERE AM I?!”
LaCroix’s cheek flexed slightly as he kept an irritated nose twitch in check. He should have surmised that you might have reacted with something like this given the prior events. Taking a deep breath, he went to start again. “As I was saying: I’m sure that you are wondering what exactly-“
“I’LL FIGHT YOU!” You interrupted once again.
“You will not.” LaCroix scolded and gave a subtle signal to the sheriff to watch you. “What you are going to do is listen.” You both eyed each other contemplatively, while the sheriff kept his own, less involved watch on you both. It seemed that you were finally starting to calm down, even if only a little, and if you were indeed at least somewhat reasonable then you would soon be settled into hearing LaCroix out.
“No,” you said not so reasonably in a confident tone. It was a good thing that LaCroix had told the sheriff to keep an eye on you, because as for himself, the prince found the outright refusal of his demands dumbfounding, thus making him slow in reaction. Of course, he didn’t use any of his unearthly powers that were readily available to force you into obedience, but usually with kindred that were this new to everything he didn’t have to. Seeing as the sheriff stopped you as you were already partway out the main door and heading for the elevator leading out of the penthouse, it would seem that he would need to employ such means at the beginning of your tutorship at the very least.
If anything could be said about the sight of you desperately trying to fight your way out of the sheriff’s hold, it was that LaCroix got to see his guard’s impressive strength played to its full potential very rarely these nights, and the fact that he could so easily subdue you with a single arm holding you over his shoulder where you couldn’t reach anything that could actually hurt him though out all your kicking and scratching was an entertaining reminder of that. Once you were back standing on your two feet in front of LaCroix, the sheriff now holding both of your arms to your sides so that you were completely confined, it was time to finally tell you what was going on; this time without the planned pleasantries and flourishes as LaCroix had no desire to be interrupted again nor did he want to drag out this debacle more than it had already gone.
“Listen well, you mule-headed degenerate. You are no longer human. You are no longer alive.” Usually, things were broken to neonates more delicately if the situation did not call for a purposeful mental collapse, which in this case it did. He needed to catch your attention, and he most certainly had it now. “You have been transformed into something other than you were- something that many dream of becoming- a higher being- a kindred.” Your face contorted in disturbance at his words. “So, what? I’ve gotten myself sucked into some sort of cult? Just my damn luck!” You spat out, not necessarily to him but certainly in a manner that was supposed to be heard by him. “No, you are now what you might have known in your old life as a vampire.” LaCroix corrected. You once again stared blankly at him. This staring lasted a few beats before you looked like you had calmed considerably. Then, in your newly acquired calm attitude, you monotoned, “You’re completely nuts.” More so in a tone of realization rather than horror, though that certainly was an undertone.
“Perhaps it seems so at the moment, but you must listen to what I have to tell you. Perhaps it would clear some things for you.” LaCroix was trying his best to be civil, but at this point, he was not the fondest of you. And, you, while a bit more on the frazzled side at the time, still were aware enough to get the pandering tone that it was said in. Something else that you were acutely aware of is that as long as their attention was on you, there would be no way that you were going to get away from here. So, your best bet was to try and play along with whatever they wanted you to do- if that’s playing Dracula then that’s what you would do; certain activities barring that is. That made it where you were finally going to be still and listen, much to LaCroix’s relief. “See? You can be reasonable if you put in the effort.” LaCroix was snide with his comment and were you not now concerned with the state of your well-being, you would have said something about his tone. Not caring about your feelings any more than he cared for anyone else’s, LaCroix was content on simply continuing. “When you were turned into your current state, the person that did so was deemed a threat. They were promptly dealt with in the appropriate manner, and I most graciously offer to take you into my care, much to the surprise and distaste of others involved in your fate.” This was partially true- he did offer to take you in, perhaps not as eagerly or altruistically as he proposed, but you didn’t need to nor were ever going to know that. “This came with the caveat that you were to be taught to be a proper member of not only kindred society but the greater general society. Your compliance with this will be what determines whether you live or not.” The last part was actually somewhat sincere, not out of concern for you per se, but rather in concern for his own reputation as well as pressing the serious nature of the situation.
This was all very concerning and confusing. Seeing as it was such, you fell back onto sarcasm. “I thought you said I had already died.” It was a genuine question masked to hide your nerves. It seemed that this wasn’t taken too well, as there was a nod of some kind to the sheriff and you were suddenly being carried back towards the part of the penthouse that you had woken up in. While you were being walked away, LaCroix informed you, “This is the sort of obstinate attitude that you must be broken of. You will spend the rest of the evening in your room. For your own sake, you had better be more civil when you leave it.” It seemed that the sheriff walked slowly enough that he could be sure that you heard everything that LaCroix had to say.
You went back to the room kicking and screaming. LaCroix didn’t see this, but he could tell from the sounds of it. This was not going well. It wasn’t that he was not used to people fighting against him, but that he wasn’t used to having someone fight him this ardently and having nothing that he could really do about it. It wasn’t just that he couldn’t do anything, it was that he was actually supposed to be at least somewhat cordial with you. It would be exceedingly difficult to achieve that seeing as things went so awry tonight that he wasn’t even able to introduce himself. He needed to rethink his approach to this; it was expected that you might have had a difficult first night as everyone does, however, you were particularly volatile. If there was one thing that LaCroix could be thankful for it’s that you had already fed before you were captured and brought to him. He couldn’t begin to think of how you would be if you were fighting off the inner beast as well. All he needed to do right now, however, was to get through his usual work for the night, which would be more difficult than usual with you going on a warpath in the other room.
May I please have some saucy fiction about LaCroix and a ventrue fledgling? Extra sauce please
[Okay, let me explain, while this one here might not be the steamiest of things the second part over here on my other blog is(18+ only there please. Children stay home) also thank you very much for waiting for this :) ]
About two months ago you were on a mission for LaCroix. You were given the preface that you needed to get what he was looking for and get out without being seen by anyone. The problem was the exact opposite happened; you were spotted and a horrible scuffle followed. You won in the end, but the whole place was covered in blood and ash. There have been other people that messed up like this and the punishments they received from the prince were unpleasant at best. Fearing what might become of you if you returned, even with the things that he asked you for, you switched your cloths with one of the piles of ash in hopes that everyone would think that you were the one that died before sneaking into the night.
Since then you had hidden in an old house near the beach of Santa Monica that you had emptied a bunch of drug dealers out of a few months prior. It was fall leading into winter, so people didn't really think anything about you wearing hats, scarves, bulky coats to hide your form. You wanted to leave, but you knew that there was a high chance that there would be people looking for you at every city exit, even the ones in the sweres. So, you decided to lay low for awhile and save up whatever money you could by pawning off the things you found in the house, and sometimes around town.
You decied that things might be at a place now where you could finally sneak out of the state and that you had enough money to help you do so. The plan was to sweep the house one last time to get whatever extra cash you could, and then leave from there. There was a problem with this plan, however. As soon as you walked into the old house and had taken off your coat, hat, and scarf, you sensed that you weren't alone. Before you could do anything about it your arm was painfully twisted behind your back and a blade of some kind was pressed to your throat. "Ça fait longtemps, my prodigal." One of the last voices you wanted to hear in the whole world hissed through gritted teeth behind you. LaCroi had found you.
"I suppose you thought you were very cunning trying to make those ashes look like your own." You went to reply, but the blade pressed slightly harder in a silent suggestion to keep quiet. "Know this: kindred older than you, like myself, know what it looks like when someone meets final death, and can immediately tell when it's fake. Most importantly, know that when someone tries to deceive us like this it makes us very, very, angery." The small blade at your throat threatened to break skin with how hard it was pressed to you now. Ignoring this, you decided to finally speak up. "Angery enough to come kill me yourself, I see."
LaCroix gave an agitated huff. "Well, put yourself in my place. You have someone whom you believe you can trust just dissapear one evening. Now, if it were a few days to a week, then I would have thought the task was simply taking longer than expected. A few weeks to a month, I get suspicious, and think about calling a blood hunt. Two months, and this is now personal. Blood hunt be damned!" He was so close to you that you could feel the growl in his chest on your back. "I was able to stave off the questions from the prying onlookers by saying you were simply doing a task for me that was taking slightly longer than most of the others did. But, even that was starting to becomen suspicious after awhile. Luckily for me, you were spotted before I had to come out with what happened before I had to tell what actually happened. Which only leaves me with one question. Why?"
The last word he said was laced with something other than anger. If you weren't mistaken, it was hurt. That, or you simply imagined the slight crack in his voice. "I-" you started to respond, but gave it a moment to be sure that you were supposed to do so, "I messed things up horribly. And, you told me there would be major consequences if I didn't keep things neat like you said." You heard him scoff in disbelief, "So, you thought adding the penalty of betraying me and running away would somehow make things better for you?" There was a point there. You should have taken a moment to think things through instead of just acting on a knee-jerk reaction. There was probably no way that a Camarilla prince wouldn't find you no matter how well you thought you were hiding.
"Do you realize what I thought?! I thought that you had left me! That you betrayed when I thought you were one of the only people I could trust! I thought you hated me... do you hate me?" By the time LaCroix finished the last word he had lost all composure, the quiver definitely there this time. You were sure what your answer was, but it still took you a while to say it because you were just so confused about this turn of events. "No... I don't hate you." You finally managed to say, and his grip on your arm loosened ever so slightly. There was still a very tense atmosphere in the room, but for some reason it felt different from the tension there before. "But, you have so many people working for you. Why would losing me be such a big deal?" You questioned trying to get any form of an answer for what was going on.
With a frustrated growl LaCroix threw what you finally saw was a dagger to the floor, turned you around to face him, pushed you up against a wall, and kissed you forcefully. After a moment to get over the initial shock and process what was happening, you eagerly kissed him back. He welcomed this response with a relieved sigh, but pinned you harder to the wall to remind you who was in charge. Finally, he pulled away from the kiss and looked you in the eyes. "You are very important to me; don't ever doubt that." He gently cupped your face in his hands when he said this. His hold became a bit more firm as he lifted your head slightly to be sure that you were looking at him. "And, don't ever pull a stunt like this again. I will be able to cover for you this time, but I might not be able to fool the rest of the Camarilla the next time. Do you understand, love?"
You practically melted at the name he gave you to the point where you almost for got the rest of what he said. "Let me know that you understand." He prompted and snapped you out of your trance. "Yes, I understand." This caused him to smile and kiss your forehead. "Good, pet. Now, with that out of the way..." you were suddenly hoisted up, carried to the other room, and thrown onto an old bed. "Let me help you relax from our rather intense conversation a moment ago." LaCroix leaned over the side of the bed and kissed along the slightly scraped part of your neck where he dagger was. "Once your punishment is over, we have a lot of time to make up for." He practically purred. You sat up with a confused look. "Punishment?" He gave a devilish smile and a dark laugh at your reaction. "Well, of course. You didn't think you were going to leave without facing the consequences for your actions, did you?"
There were plenty of things that Sebastian LaCroix should be doing right now, and this was definitely not one of them. He as well as some of the other Primogen of LA were gathered to decide the fate of a kindred who over stepped his bounds and his ill-begotton childe. This kindred had somehow embraced this childe, and then kept them hidden for about six months in poor conditions that not only threatened the state of the childe's relationship with the beast, but more importantly the masquerade. The reason that they had discovered the situation when they did was because a human had managed to get out of where this degenerate was holding the childe.
Even with the human... silenced... there was still a lot of clean up to do. It was decided that the sire was to be executed because he was too much of a threat of exposing the kindred of this area to the kine. As for the childe, they were placed into his care after some debate. Actually, it was more of a dare rather than a debate. That blasted Strauss was always trying to find ways to make LaCroix look incompetent at his job, and right now was no exception. "I believe that any prince worthy of the title would not only be willing show mercy to a childe left in such a state, but also find someone to instruct them in our ways." The hubristic aura radiating from the man across the practically titanic table was still veritably palpable even from where LaCroix was sitting. This was a dare, pure and simple. The type one might find in a school yard.
Of course LaCroix wasn't going to have his ability as the prince questioned, nor was he going to be bullied. "A wise observation." He started as he looked Strauss directly in the eyes, " Which is precisely why I was going to inform you all that the childe will be spared, and I'll be teaching them myself, as if they were my own." This caused all the others in the room to nod their heads in approval, and whispers of his praise started to radiate from everyone; everyone except for a skeptical Strauss that is.
While LaCroix considered this a win in the meeting room, the realization that he now had a new vampire to train 24/7 on top all of his other duties hit him like a freight train. He was never good at future planning when faced with a dare of any kind. It was only made worse when he saw whom he voluntarily took in as his own. They weren't just not well kept, they were practically mangy! And, based on how they reacted when he started to approach them, they were practically feral as well. They lunged at LaCroix will ill intent written on their face, and were only stopped by the sheriff easily grabbing their neck and holding them in place.
"If you will attempt to act like you have more than three brain cells, I might be inclined to explain your situation." LaCroix scolded, and it seemed to cause the one in the Sheriff's hold to still. When LaCroix was sure that there wouldn't be any more problems, at least for the moment, he continued. "All you will know for now is that for you, my word is law. You will do what I say, when I say it, else you will wish we never took from that dingy cage in that musty basement you were found in. Do as I say, and you'll live longer than you were expecting to." They didn't respond verbally, but gave a nod, as best they could with a gigantic hand wrapped around their neck.
With a nod of LaCroix's head toward the door the sheriff dragged the childe away, and LaCroix followed behind as he told them what would happened. "You will be made presentable before anything else. You will be bathed, have the mats cut from you hair at the very least, and those cloths... they are fit to be burned." They started to say something back to him, but were promptly cut off. "Those cloths are going to be the first things to go!"
