Rumi (alpha) is a soloist, she is married but her relationship has been turbulent.
Jinu gives a pamphlet about a natural resort and advises her to take a break and go for a vacation.
She recognizes the resort as the one she used to go with her parents and the one where her mom meets Celine after her dad died.
She has some memories about the place, even though they are...fuzzy
Her wife and her still fight and argue, Rumi tries to do what her wife wants but no matter what is not enough or she gets it wrong.
(The wife is just using Rumi, they meet as teenager and manipulate Rumi into loving her so she can fulfill her dream of being an actress but she sucks and blame Rumi for it.)
Tired of the fights, Rumi goes to the bar where she meets a pretty pink haired girl, the girls get closer and she looks fierce but ...
"Bad day, Huh?"
She is actually very nice.
They talk for a moment before she excuses herself, as she is part of the act of the night, she is a aerial dancer.
Rumi keeps going after every fight.
Mira is a good listener and her show is amazing.
After another passionless sex she sits in the port, enjoying the calm of the sea.
"You know how to swim?"
Until she is scared by a girl in a swimsuit.
"Sorry! I'm just asking because it will be bad if you fall in the water, is very dark after all"
She says like she is not the one swimming in the dark.
"Yes I know how to swim"
The girl smiles and in moonlight Rumi notices the freckles covering her face.
She is cute.
The girl talks, her name is Zoey and is the one in charge of any water activities.
Rumi likes talking with her, her energetic behavior is contagious.
Her marriage falls apart more and more, she talks more with Mira/Zoey.
One day her wife goes missing, she worries, they are married but not mated so she doesn't know if she is alive or dead, she tries to find her until a call/note reveal that she was cheating on her and she wants the divorce.
The paperwork is already finished.
She is heartbroken, luckily her new friend is there with her.
Rumi decides to extend her vacation, she gains permission from the owner, a man called Bobby, to work in the gardens.
It is peaceful and after a lot of thinking decide to take an indefinite hiatus. Bobby asks her to work as a gardener seeing the green thumb she has, she accepts.
In the end she gains a new lover and her life couldn't be happier.
Plot twist:
Half of the resort workers are supernatural creatures, the others are mates or family.
Mira is a gumiho, Zoey is a selkie/sea nymph.Celine is a forest nymph that Miyeong met in the resort.
When she was a child Rumi found fox mira/seal zoey injured by unruly guests/a boat she brings it to her father who was a veterinarian. She helps with the recovery and cries when she lets them go. Mira/Zoey remember her, saw her one time when she visited Jinu after he gave birth. They bother him until he sends the pamphlet.
(omega) Mira/ (Omega or beta) Zoey definitely killed Rumi wife, Rumi's father died by natural causes. Mira imitates Rumi's wife's voice to call and Zoey copies her handwriting to write the note.
Celine and miyeong help them with the divorce paperwork because they hated that bitch but Rumi was besotted.
Mira/Zoey may have slightly influenced Rumi with their powers.
Jinu is mated to the rest of the saja boys, who are all creatures.
Thank you to @betterthanfakemouthstatic for your support and @do-androids-dream-ao3acc for beta reading my work, and saving me the embarrassment of going back to fix mistakes later!
Star crossed lovers now up on AO3:
WARNING - MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH
Tommy Kinard is dead, he finds himself in Resthaven, a sort of limbo spot, where he finds out the truth about his relationship with Evan and must make a choice about what happens next.
Okay, so I’m gonna be blunt, one of these kinda turned out dark. I hope that’s okay, I don’t think it’s too dark, bc the first draft had all 3 little segments having darker aspects. So! I hope you can enjoy and forgive the shock there in the middle. Heed the warning. I was originally going to do headcanons, but that felt unfair since I’ve been doing little blurbs like this for a different fandom. So! You get mini scenarios! Also lol, no there is no reasoning to the kids here. I just picked them at random
CW: Child abandonment and murder are mentioned in Shalnark’s section. Be warned.
FEITAN
Maybe just five minutes...surely they’ll-
The desperate, delusionally hopeful thought was slammed to pieces by the initial whines of the fussy infant in the cheap crib before him.
No time for sleep, obviously, so the ravenette sighed and turned his irritated attention to the bundle of sobs and an ill-fit onesie that squirmed and worked themself into a tizzy in the crib. The neighbors on the other side of Feitan’s thin apartment walls surely just as frustrated as him with the bawling baby.
“Why won’t you sleep, you little monster?” He huffed, but the only answer he got was more sobs and shrieks that only soothed when the sadist scooped the baby up for the third time that night. His bundle of needs somehow able to teeter between fat, angry tears and relaxed interest in everything but sleep without a single loss in energy. “Why won’t you sleep?” He reiterated, “You’ve been fed, you’ve been changed, burped, I’m not swaddling you, fuck that. If that’s why, grow the hell up.”
His child gave no answer still, but their sobs had faded in favor of an almost awed stare at the pattern on Feitan’s dark handkerchief. And after a moment, a tiny, chubby hand reached up to grab it, but the ravenette leaned away to keep them from it. Though, as he did, a laugh bubbled up. Likely from the delirium of how little he’d slept, but the sadist also couldn’t deny that the baby’s interest in his bandana had amused him.
That was why he hadn’t chosen to give the child up after Shalnark had found them and Chrollo had gotten their DNA tested. Even though Feitan couldn’t remember who the mom was, nor where she might be, and even when the infant was a headache, they always managed to be cute as well. So it sort of balanced.Now if only you’d sleep…
SHALNARK
The blonde laughed as Uvogin hoisted his daughter up and made his best attempt at airplane noises. Which, in turn, got squeals of laughter from the little girl in his hands until the large fighter put her back on her feet to let her run off to play while the men talked.
“So, any luck on finding her mom again?” Uvo asked, and the question briefly wiped Shalnark’s smile from his face.
“No, not really…I don’t know what happened to her, but she’s somehow vanished.” He sighed, and his companion shook his head.
“Man, that’s shitty. What type of mom ditches their kid like that? No explanation, no apology, just a damned note.” He muttered, and the blonde let the man fume aloud so that he could watch his daughter stack legos together. “How do you not lose your mind at that, Shal?”
His attention returned to Uvogin at that,
“I just try not to think of her mother too much. I’m quite happy with my child, and I can support us easily enough with the money I had saved from our jobs, so I don’t need a second parent to help.” He pointed out with a bright smile that made Uvogin grimace and study the smaller blonde.
“You’re so forgiving nowadays, jeez…”
“Oh! I haven’t forgiven her!” Shalnark chirped without a missed beat before he continued, “If I find that bitch, I’ll kill her without hesitation! She left my kid out on my porch with a vague ass note and ran off before I could see her! She was reckless and heartless and doesn’t deserve to live in my head rent free. That’s why I’m focusing on nothing but my daughter.”
Uvo laughed at his words, his daughter too engrossed in her games and toys to have noticed his venom, but it still earned a hug from the fighter.
“That’s the Shalnark I know and love! I’ll be there to help when ya find her, promise!”
PHINKS
“I dunno, have you done your chores this week?” Phinks asked the pair of twins who watched him count out ones like a pair of wolves.
“Yes sir!” They responded,
“Dishes, garbage, homework, cleaned my room, swept, and picked up the trash from the lawn!” One listed like a private to their drill sargent.
“Dishes, laundry, my homework, mopped, and I even got a perfect grade on a test!” The other followed, a smile on their face as they both looked to their strict father for approval.
The man only gave a hum, however, as he counted his money.
“And what would that bring your allowance up to?”
“20 bucks!” The twins crowed, their eyes alive with excitement at the thought, but Phinks still took a long moment to look them over. A show made of trying to poke holes in their chore completion before he finally sighed and handed over a twenty-dollar bill for each.
“Fine! Have your money, you leeches. Be gone!”
“Thank you, papa!” They both crowed, a hug given to Phinks before they bolted off to the corner store to buy their allowance in candy. Which, made the ex-criminal smile slightly.
Summary: Tonight was a celebration, of his home’s completion and of his brothers, and August was prepared to be amused by the others. Amidst the swirl and glitter, though, something stands out, and his brothers suddenly aren’t the only ones having fun.
Characters: August Walker, Sherlock Holmes, Sy, Walter Marshall, Geralt of Rivia, Clark Kent, Charles Brandon, and miscellaneous unnamed characters
Pairing: Slight dark!August Walker x Unnamed Female
Warnings: spooky vibes, blood, biting, vampirism. There’s vampires in here, so like everything that has to do with that. Implied coercion, dub-con (she’s in his thrall for at least a little of it), Vampire’s gonna Vamp. If anything else needs to be added, let me know. I’ve never written a vampire fic before, so I’m not sure of the protocol.
I only have the one taglist I keep up with, so I apologize if you didn’t want to be tagged. Feel free to skip it! I won’t be hurt at all! I had too much fun writing it to not share, though.
A/N: Inspired by @rmtndew‘s August pic, and me really, really wanting to write a spooky fic for the season, since I’ve never done one before. I give you a Vampire Ball!
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August sat in the shadowed balcony above the ballroom, watching the people mingle and dance and swirling his wine glass lazily as he observed the party. The small stringed orchestra was playing, covering the chatter of the crowd below him. The chandeliers were dimmed, giving the overall air of secrecy and subtlety, and August, by all rights, should be down there already, but he was enjoying watching the fruits of his labors for the moment. It had been a year of patience and an expensive project, but now it was a celebration of his project’s completion.
When he’d purchased the dusty old manor, his brothers had scoffed at him. Sy, in particular, ornery and brittle from spending time in the desert of all places for the past long while (August didn’t care to keep track of how long his orders had been for), had asked, “What d’ya need another house for anyhow? Sex dungeon in Prague not enough for ya?” Charles had laughed at that, but August had only hummed in reply.
“You’ll sing another tune when you see what I have in store,” August had replied. Indeed, he did have many houses, all of them old and grandiose, but he had all this money and, like all rich people, he got bored and purchased something to sink his funds into. So, he bought this old place on top of what the locals called “Executioner’s Hill” and paid to have it restored to its former glory. His brothers certainly weren’t complaining; they always got their own rooms in whatever place he chose for his home. At the sound of laughter, August peered down, searching for the source, until he found Charles, the youngest of his brothers, amidst a flock of women, surrounded on all sides by sparkles and glitter and colors. August hummed to himself and took a sip from his glass. At least Charles seemed to be enjoying the party.
“Look at that,” Sherlock said, appearing at August’s left. “What a show. Has he no decorum?” August’s immediate younger brother, Sherlock had a habit of pretending to hate these parties, but he never failed to show up at one.
“He’s young,” August replied, watching Charles flirt with every single woman surrounding him, flashing smiles and throwing winks left and right. “We were all like that at one point. Even you, Sherlock. I seem to recall a certain soiree with a young woman. Irene, wasn’t she?”
“Hmph,” Sherlock said, puffing on his pipe in irritation. “Yes, well, I grew out of it quickly.”
“And all the women of the world suffered a mortal blow for it,” August said, swirling his glass again.
“Quite a place you’ve got here, August,” Sherlock commented. “Lots of hidden passageways.”
“Indeed there are. Explored them all already?”
“Did you know you had a secret dungeon? Well, not so secret anymore. Would make for another dungeon like in Prague.”
“I did, in fact. From the back bedroom down underneath the cellar. I had meant for that to be a surprise, you know.”
“Shouldn’t have invited me, then.” August hummed again, his gaze going back to the party as he stood to his feet. “Finally going to join in the revelry?”
“It is my party.”
“Oh, and here I thought it was for dear Charles,” Sherlock replied, puffing his pipe again.
“Did he tell you that? You ought to know better than to listen to him.” As he passed, he handed Sherlock his glass. “Enjoy the party, Sherlock. And don’t sit in my chair.”
“Your illustrious throne? I wouldn’t dare.” As August turned, he found Sherlock leaning unsurreptitiously on the arm of his chair, his pipe still in his mouth.
“Enjoy your people watching.”
“That I shall.” Of all his brothers, Sherlock had the sharpest eye. He enjoyed picking apart people with his gaze, stripping them of all their walls before making his move. He’d sit up here, in the shadows, for most likely the rest of the party before finally deciding to join in. August found another glass sitting on the banister leading down into the ballroom, and he turned back to glare at Sherlock, who sipped what was August’s glass calmly.
“Bastard,” August grumbled, and Sherlock’s lips twitched into a faint smile before falling into his blank face again.
“You’re still so easy to distract, August.” Taking the glass and ignoring the barb, August slowly descended the stairs that wrapped around both edges of the ballroom. At the landing, he found Geralt, two people on either side of him, one of whom was pawing long, delicate fingers over his chest and humming along with the music of the orchestra.
“Geralt.”
“Hm.” Geralt replied, not looking up from his two companions.
“If you plan to have your way with them, would you at least find a room that isn’t my study this time?”
“Fuck off,” Geralt growled, dark eyes flashing angrily at him. August smirked, sipping Sherlock’s drink and wrinkling his nose at it. That smug bastard. He knew he hated this. There was a reason he only drank from his own supply. Damn it. He looked up towards where Sherlock was now fully-hidden in the shadows, and he glared. He could practically feel the satisfaction rolling off of his brother in waves.
“Here.” He placed the glass into Geralt’s hand, and Geralt glared at his continued interruptions. “You’ve been hiding here all night. Drink something, at least.” With that, August turned and continued down the stairs, surveying the crowd as he did. He easily found Charles exactly where he’d left him, still surrounded by women and looking thrilled at his situation. August wasn’t going anywhere near that. He’d been that young once, and he had no intention of getting within ten feet of that. He also spotted Marshall standing by the window that overlooked the garden, but his back was to the outside, looking over the crowd as August had been doing from his “throne,” as Sherlock called it. Marshall never pretended to like these parties; he hated crowds. He preferred to keep to himself, hunting monsters day and night until he ran himself ragged and passed out for days at a time before starting the cycle again. The fun part was, he hunted monsters like August, who lived in the shadows and took advantage of those who got lost within them. But August was his brother, oldest brother in fact, and so the two pretended that the other didn’t know what they were doing. And besides, Marshall may hate the parties, but even he couldn’t resist the buffet that August had laid out for tonight. He’d brood in his corner for a while longer, most likely.
Unsurprisingly, and expectedly, Sy was standing not five feet away from Marshall. They were the twins; born right after one another, similar in mannerisms, except Sy was more of a flirt than his twin. Marshall tended to only use his size to scare others; Sy used it to attract. It was rare to find one without the other, though, except for when Sy had his orders in the desert (how long had that been again? August really couldn’t be bothered to keep track). Sy was leaning against August’s large windows (if he got handprints on his windows again, August was going to make him sleep in the gazebo), and from the looks of it, he had his eyes set on someone across the floor, currently dancing with someone else August didn’t care to know. He wasn’t here to make friends. Sure, he invited the people from town, acquaintances and friends and strangers, into his home, but the party wasn’t for them. It was for him, and for his brothers, because otherwise he could never get them all in one place, and it was fun to mess with them in small ways. Marshall’s bedroom was the first to get sun in the morning; Sherlock’s windows had a small air-leak in them; Charles got the smallest bedroom; Geralt’s room was bare-bones (that was less of a tease and more to Geralt’s preference, but oh well); Sy’s bed creaked no matter what you did to it. It was all in good fun, after all. They were brothers, stuck with one another until the end, and August chose to enjoy it in his own quiet ways.
August met Sy’s gaze as he stepped onto the ballroom floor, and Sy grinned at him. August rolled his eyes and jerked his head in the direction of whoever it was Sy was looking at. He didn’t have all night. The party ended at midnight. It wouldn’t do for him to spend the whole time staring. To his great surprise, Marshall pushed off of his corner and weaved through the crowd, pressing himself up against a woman in a maroon dress with dark hair and pale skin. Ah, so he was just waiting for his moment. Comforting. Sy and August met each other’s gazes again, and Sy gave a look of pride at his twin’s decision. August turned away. He couldn’t be bothered with what his brothers did tonight. A glance in Charles’s direction showed that he’d selected a woman to dance with, at least for this song. Though, from the remnants of the group huddling together, he’d promised all of them a turn. August made his way over to the bar, and he only had to meet the bartender’s gaze for a second before a glass was handed to him. He washed the taste out of his mouth happily, and he scanned the crowd again, meeting the eyes of some of his men stationed around the room, all of whom gave a nod. Clark, in particular, another of his brothers, was in charge of keeping an eye on things. He preferred working while also enjoying himself, where the rest of their brothers were taking a night off. August leaned completely against the bar, confident in his brother’s ability to multitask. He had made Clark swear to still enjoy the night, though. After all, this was for them. His men, and by extension Clark’s men, had their own orders for the night, after all, and it wouldn’t do for them to forget their jobs, regardless of how lavish the party was. As he scanned, he noticed that Geralt and his two companions were gone from the stairs landing. August could only hope that he’d actually made it to an actual bedroom this time. It had taken two days to get his paperwork back in order after last time.
The hours passed quietly for August, who sipped his way through a few more glasses, watching his brothers, even Sherlock, mingle and mix, sometimes dancing, sometimes whispering into ears in darkened corners, and August knew them all well enough to see the glint in their eyes. For all that some of them complained, they enjoyed the party and the atmosphere it provided.
As the clock in the balcony struck twelve, August met Clark’s sharp gaze and raised a finger at him. August was just turning to get another drink from the bartender when his eyes fell on pale pink that he somehow hadn’t noticed before in all of his watching and surveilling. She was a tiny thing, with a pale pink evening gown covered in sparkles and--were those little butterflies? Everything in him called itself to attention, and he set his glass down on the bar, navigating through the crowd with ease, his gaze never leaving the little thing that had obviously no idea of what she had gotten herself into.
August was nearly to her when she seemed to sense she was being watched, and her eyes met his, widening at the sight of him making his way towards her. Was it just nervousness? Or fear? Well, both, neither, it was no matter to him. Her gaze instantly dropped, and that just wouldn’t do. “Hello there,” he greeted when he stopped next to her. He was so much taller than her, the precious little thing.
“Hello,” she replied.
“I’m afraid I must apologize. If I had known such a beauty was in my ballroom, I would’ve come to talk to you sooner. Where have you been hiding all night?”
“Um, I haven’t been hiding,” she replied, her voice soft and high, a bit like dainty bells. Oh, she was perfect. Her black hair shone in the moonlight from the window behind them, and pink to match her dress had risen into her cheeks at his words. “I was outside, looking at the gardens--well, your gardens, I suppose, if this is your ballroom they must be your gardens.” August chuckled; oh, she was perfect.
“They are indeed my gardens. This is my home.”
“It’s very lovely.”
“Thank you. You know, you’re the first person besides my brothers to say such things?”
“Oh, I can’t believe that,” she said, still not meeting his gaze and looking outside through the windows instead. A cursory glance around the room showed that most of the people had been shuffled out already, and Clark and his men were in the process of handling any particularly troublesome guests. August spared a moment to think that perhaps Clark had found someone of interest tonight as well, from how quickly he was shooing people out. The only other one of his brothers he could still see was Sherlock, who had cornered a beauty similar but in so many ways inferior to his own.
“It’s true. Then again, I prefer my secrecy, so perhaps they didn’t know it was I who owned this place. She reached up a hand to tuck a strand of dark hair behind her ear, and August wanted to grab it and keep it, but it wouldn’t do to scare her away. Everything in him was demanding to keep this one to himself. Sometimes, his brothers tried to steal his newest toys from him, but he wouldn’t let them this time. Sherlock in particular liked to try, and sometimes August had no problem allowing it, but not this one. The dainty little thing might run away from him if that were the case. There was a low growl off behind him, somewhere on the other side of the ballroom, and August recognized it as Marshall. Aw, little brother was getting a tad too excited. He must’ve had a rougher time of it that August or Sy had guessed.
“What was that?” she asked, her eyes darting around to search for the source.
“My brother. He can be a bit gruff at times.”
“Is he alright?”
“Don’t concern yourself with him. He’s practically harmless.” August couldn’t stop himself. He reached out and caught her chin in his fingers, tilting her head up and bending down just a bit so he could finally see into her eyes. They were perfect, a pale blue-grey, and he smiled at the sight. “What’s your name, pretty girl?” She gasped, her cheeks flaring a brighter color. “My name is August.” He smiled just a bit wider. Oh, she would do nicely. One taste wouldn’t suffice, he was certain of that. He was going to keep her, which he rarely did. And not even Sherlock would be allowed to steal her away. She still didn’t say a word. “What’s the matter, pretty girl? You’ve nothing to be scared of.” He heard Sherlock chuckle, and August knew the night had been a success if even Sherlock was enjoying himself. “Would a walk help you? I’ve a wonderful chair you can sit in to calm down.” She would look incredible seated upon his--fuck it, it was his throne, and it would be hers too. He leaned down further, until the moonlight hit his eyes, and he knew that they flashed. His pretty little girl gasped at the sight, but she didn’t pull away. He could hear her heart racing, and August was tired of waiting. His eyes flashing in the pale light, leaned down until there was scarcely any space between them, and he stared into her eyes. “Come take a walk with me,” he said, and she nodded.
He shifted, placing a hand around her waist possessively, and as they started to make their way up the stairs, August caught Sherlock’s gaze from where his brother was sucking at the neck of the girl he’d been talking to, and Sherlock winked at him. August looked over to where Marshall had been, to find the tattered remains of Marshall’s jacket on the floor, but no sight of his brother. Out of habit, August listened, and he heard Marshall’s grunts and the familiar sounds of moans off towards the conservatory, the animal. August barely stopped himself from chuckling. He could hear Charles and the rustle of a large amount of fabric in the lounge; Sy was out in the gazebo! August snapped his head over towards where he had been standing earlier that evening, and he growled. There were a set of giant handprints on his windows, intermixed with a series of smaller ones. Annoyance flared up, but he just tightened his grip on his pretty’s waist and continued up the stairs. He found Geralt’s shirt draped over the banister, along with what looked like part of a skirt, but August hadn’t paid much attention to the people his brother was with at the time, so he couldn’t be sure. His throne was empty, and August sat down, pulling his pretty in to sit in his lap, locking eyes with her.
“Comfortable, pretty girl?” he asked. She nodded, not saying a word. “Are you a siren, perhaps?”
“No.”
“A witch, then?”
“No?”
“Hmm, then, my pretty, in my family we would say we’re fated,” August purred at her, pushing her hair away from her neck. “A shame you spent the whole night in my gardens; we could have been up here, getting to know one another.” The musicians were still playing, but the shadows of this area allowed for even more privacy to their conversation, not that his brothers would be listening in anymore. They were all preoccupied. “Now I’ll have to rush through things, and I hate being rushed.” He pressed a kiss to her neck, and she gasped. She smelled divine. “This is my home, my kingdom, and I will make you my queen, my pretty. I laid eyes on you and had to have you. You will be mine now, won’t you, pretty?” She gasped again, and he smiled against her skin. “Say it, pretty, and I’ll make you a queen. All that I have will be yours, forever until the end.” He had planned for an easy night tonight, with perhaps a bit of fun, but now he had his pretty, and he was already planning for changes to make because of it.
“I don’t--”
“Shhh,” he hushed, licking up the column of her throat, “just say it, pretty girl. A queen. They will be our gardens and our home. You don’t know how powerful I am, pretty. You will have people to rule, thousands at your command, even my brothers will have to do as you say. Anything you could ever want will be yours.” Usually, things were more elaborate than this, but she’d hidden from him all night. August might have wooed her in other ways, but now, he couldn’t risk her getting away. He’d be able to find her again, sure, but he didn’t want to waste that time when he had her now. “Just say it, my pretty.”
“I--”
“Go on,” August encouraged, feeling his teeth sharpen until they sliced open his lips.
“I--”
“Say it, pretty girl.” Already, he felt blood pooling in his mouth. He held her head in place with one hand and secured her to his lap with the other.
“Yes.” August surged up, slamming his mouth onto hers and forcing her mouth open with his tongue. His blood flooded into her mouth, and she let out a sound of surprise. His fangs opened her lips, and he sucked on them, until they slipped against one another from how much blood there was. He pulled away, and her mouth, chin, and throat were dripping in their shared blood.
“Perfect,” he purred. “Look at you, pretty.” Her pupils were blown, and she was gasping for air. He trailed his lips and tongue down the side of her throat until finally, finally, he bit, his teeth piercing her, and she moaned, her head tossed back. She tasted exquisite, like he’d known she would, and all the blood he’d sipped on through the night was like ash compared to this. Ambrosia couldn’t taste this good, he was sure of it. He drank his fill and licked at the marks, trickles of blood still falling down her neck. Her lips were still bleeding, as were his, and her dress was in danger of being stained, so he licked up the trails. “Would be a shame to ruin this dress, pretty. It led me to you, after all.”
“August,” she gasped.
“Oh, I know, pretty. I know.” He kissed her again, and this time, she sucked on his lips, pulling out the remnants of his blood before the cuts could heal closed. It was everything he wanted. “I’ll make you a queen, pretty girl.” He faintly remembered the feelings that would coarse through her until the change was complete, but he wasn’t nearly done with her yet. “Tomorrow, you will be queen, and all my subjects will know it, but for tonight, you are mine and mine alone.” Picking her up, he walked towards his rooms, intent on making sure that even his brothers, as distracted as they were, would know that Vampires finally had a queen.
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A/N: Have August Walker, King of the Vampires by @rmtndew
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Good Omens (TV)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Relationships: Dagon/Uriel (Good Omens), aziraphale/Crowley (mentioned)
Characters: Dagon (Good Omens), Uriel (Good Omens)
Additional Tags: Prompt Fill, Febuwhump, Febuwhump 2022, Rare Pairings, Rare Omens, She/Her Pronouns for Uriel (Good Omens), He/Him Pronouns for Dagon, Non-Consensual Touching, Angel/Demon Relationship, Chastity Device, Dark Crack, Spiders, Leonard Cohen References, Wow I Can't Believe This Tag Exists, Random & Short, Weirdness, Why Did I Write This?, Pre-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Hell is a Bureaucracy (Good Omens), Heaven is Terrible (Good Omens), Punishment
Series: Part 19 of Good Omens Angst & Whump
Summary:
Uriel clenched her jaw along with both fists. Suddenly, the cold, hard metal was unmissable where it rubbed against her skin. It had been there for a while and she could blank it out most of the time. But not right now.
Written for:
- Febuwhump Day 5: "Let me see"
- Rare Omens Day 5: "Dagon / Uriel"
- Ineffably Sweet(& Spicy) Day 5: "Chastity"
