Hi everyone! I’ve decided to (finally) get my act together and make a masterlist post for all the requests/stories I’ve done so far. I’m going first by character, then adding Dark Desires October and TIGmas posts for if you’re looking for a ~vibe~. Links that have a * indicate the presence of smut, for if you just want to get to the good stuff! 😉
(I'll be going through these posts and updating them slowly when I can't bring myself to write, so if you see anything that needs fixing or you want to suggest ways to make this... less of a clusterfuck, please feel free to let me know!)
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Currently Writing:
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1. Cold Outside (a Jack Blaylock x Reader fic for TIGmas #12 - sorry for taking FOREVER, @babylonianqueenie; I'm really struggling to make this good!)
2. Solar Flare (a Jan Valek x OC fic)
Note: I am taking requests, but seeing that some of them are around a year old at this point, note that it may be awhile! I'm not planning on starting any of my own projects or theme-months until I clear out most of what I have, and thank you all for your patience!
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Terry Silver:
Silver Seduction: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3* | Part 4* | Part 5* | Part 6*
(KK3 Terry x Reader) Reader is the older sister of Jessica Andrews and has taken it upon herself to make sure young Daniel LaRusso stays safe after Jessica returns to Ohio. This includes accompanying him to seek out the training offered by Sensei Terry Silver and learning a few moves yourself from the handsome older man. When his true intentions are discovered, you completely cut him off, but he isn’t willing to let you go so easily. (Reader is in her 20s)
Chef’s Kiss: Part 1 | Part 2*
(KK3 Terry x Reader) Reader is dragged to a charity event by her parents where she meets Terry Silver. They discover that they have a mutual acquaintance, Daniel LaRusso, and Reader joins Danny at the dojo as she grows closer to Terry. Wanting to surprise him one day, she catches Terry relishing Daniel’s torture – now Terry has to make her see reason. (Reader is in her 20s)
Deluge: Part 1
(KK3 Terry x Reader) You get stranded in the rain trying to make your way to Terry’s place for Valentine’s Day, but Terry comes to your rescue, professing his love for you and taking you to his home where you belong.
An Honest Man: Part 1 | Part 2* | To be continued…
(KK3 Terry x Reader) You meet Terry at a party and aren’t impressed by his smarmy exterior, making him determined to win you over. Colluding with your easily wooed coworker, he talks you into a date and slowly seduces his way past your timid, untrusting nature.
Payment Plan: Part 1*
(KK3 Terry x Reader) Reader sees Terry training in the Cobra Kai dojo while on her way to work and develops a crush on him. They finally meet face-to-face and Terry invites her inside for a free lesson.
Bath Toy: Part 1*
(KK3 Terry x Reader) Terry takes a business call while playing with you in the bath but is interrupted by you not being able to keep quiet. To make up for the inconvenience, you let him use you underwater while he goes about his business.
Cat & Mouse: Part 1*
(KK3 Terry x Reader) Reader is a rising star at Dynatox and has caught the eye of the boss himself. Despite being the Terry Silver, however, you adamantly reject his advances, forcing him to take more drastic measures to help you see reason. The two of you engage in a game of cat and mouse that culminates the night of a gala celebrating Dynatox’s successes.
Discipline Training: Part 1* | Part 2* | To be continued…
(KK3 Terry x Reader) Terry comes home early from a work trip and catches you touching yourself without his permission. He decides to punish train you in the third 'D': Discipline.
All's Fair: Part 1 | Part 2* | Part 3*
(KK3 Terry x Reader) Reader has been dating Terry for awhile, and he's been patient. When she surprises him with a date at their local funfair, he thinks she'll be willing to finally make their relationship physical. At the top of the ferris wheel, he makes his move. Dubcon.
Unjust Reward:Part 1 | Part 2*
(KK3 Terry x Reader) Daniel warns Reader that Terry is nothing but trouble, and she tries to avoid him, but when she's being chased by a group of men she turns to Terry's dojo for help. He swoops in to save the day, but it turns out he was just saving her for himself. Non-con.
Clear as Mud: Part 1*
(KK3 Terry x Reader) You’ve tried to get Terry to open up about his time in Vietnam on more than one occasion, and while he’s been doing his best to help you understand, he ultimately decides that the best way to help you is to put you through something similar, hunting you in the middle of a forest at sunset.
What You Do To Me: Part 1*
(KK3 Terry x Reader) You and Terry have been together for quite awhile now and he is crazy about you. Before he can tell you that he loves you, he decides to test your loyalty by seeing how you respond to another man trying to seduce you at a gala. Once you pass his test with flying colours, he sneaks away with you to confess his love, and shows you just what it’s like to have his full devotion…
Turtle Doves: Part 1 | Part 2
(KK3 Cobra Husbands - Terry/Reader/John) It’s your first Christmas spent with both Terry and John, and everyone is nervous about what to give the others. While you’re confident in Terry’s (often overwhelming) love for both you and John, as well as your own feelings for both men, you’re still unsure of John’s feelings for you with the spirit of Betsy still a looming presence in everyone’s mind.
Songbird: Part 1*
(Terry through the ages) A series of snippets of Terry and his wife in the 90s, 00s and the present. Reader is a singer at the bar that Terry frequents as he hits rock bottom, and the two of you fall in love. Years later, the return of John Kreese into your husband’s live threatens to tear your marriage apart.
Lesson Learned: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3*
(CK Terry x Reader) Reader is a student in Cobra Kai’s adult class and you and Sensei Silver are both clearly attracted to one another. After a month of teasing, Terry decides you’ve both waited long enough.
Strike First: Part 1 | Part 2*
(CK Terry x Reader) Reader and Sensei Silver have been eyeing each other during the dojo’s adult class for awhile now. While you never think it would escalate past flirting, Terry has had other plans, luring you to the dojo when no one is around so you two can get to know each other.
Prized Possession: Part 1*
(CK Terry x Reader) You accompany Terry to a charity event for the first time as a couple and he doesn’t appreciate the attention you receive from the other men in attendance. Upon returning home, he needs to make sure that you both know who you belong to.
As I Am: Part 1*
(CK Terry x Reader) You witness Terry and Daniel’s fight in Stingray’s apartment and desperately want him to lose control with you. Upon making you confess your desires, he gives you exactly what you need. Size kink.
A Better Offer: Part 1 | Part 2*
(CK Terry x Reader) You are Daniel’s assistant at the dealership and a close family friend. When Terry drops by to gather information for his schemes, he decides to scoop you up and make Danny-Boy regret his mistreatment of you, giving you a dream opportunity: organizing the charity auction for Eva Garcia. The two of you develop feelings for one another as you work closely together, and as the events of the auction unfold, the tension between you reaches its boiling point.
Legacy: Part 1*
(CK Terry x Reader) Terry has fallen for the most promising student in his adult class, though she remains oblivious. Though he desperately wants to have her for himself, he fears rejection and settles for privately training her just to be close to her and build a legacy. Eventually, he runs out of things to teach her.
Fresh Start: Days 4 & 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Days 8 & 9* | Days 10 & 11 | Day 12-A | Day 12-B | Day 13-A* | Day 13-B* | Day 13-C | Day 14-A* | Day 14-B | Day 14-C
(CK Terry x Reader) Reader is visiting LA for a few weeks and accidentally wanders onto the estate of Terry Silver, who immediately falls hard for the young woman. With only a few days to convince her to stay with him, he knows he has to pull out all the stops.
Scream for Me: Part 1 | Part 2*
(CK Terry x Reader) Part of the "Fresh Start" universe! Reader makes the mistake of telling Terry that she can't believe he was ever scary, and certainly isn't that way now. Terry decides to teach her a lesson, hunting her in their own home until she admits that he is still very much something to be feared.
Wrapped in Red: Part 1*
(CK Terry x Reader) Part of the “Fresh Start” universe! You and Terry are invited to a Christmas Eve charity gala by your rival for Terry’s affections, and you’re sick of having to endure her flirting with your man. Surprisingly, Victor has an idea that will make it certain who Terry Silver belongs to.
Eye of the Storm: Part 1* | To be continued…
(CK Terry x Reader) Trapped at the airport on Christmas Eve, Terry grows tired of seeing everyone around him with their families and loved ones, and impulsively decides to start a family of his own. Today. He sets his sights on you to get the job done, with you being none the wiser.
Guided Meditation: Part 1*
(CK Terry x Reader) Terry is fed up with your attitude lately, and decides to help you learn how to channel your pent up frustrations through more enjoyable pursuits... for him, anyway.
Party Favours: Part 1*
(CK Terry x Reader) You really don't want your birthday to be a big deal, but Terry is determined to strike the perfect balance, finding just the right way to spoil you...
Reunion: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |To be continued...
(CK Terry x Reader) Part of the "Fresh Start" universe! You return to Terry weeks after your initial departure to begin your life together.
The Steadfast Tin Soldier: Part 1*
(Twig Terry x Reader) Terry returns from Vietnam on Christmas Eve, and you are the first and only person he wants to see. After years without so much as a letter, you two try to get to know each other once again.
Cash Ewing (Black Friday/The Kidnapping):
Disorderly Conduct: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4* | Part 5 | Part 6
A dark, tragic fic. Reader is a cop who has been working at the same precinct as Cash for awhile, and gets the vibe that something is... off. Trusting her instinct, she follows him to an abandoned building one day and catches him in the act. Unfortunately, he also catches her, and keeps her as a hostage while he tries to figure out his next move. (Takes place before events of the movie)
Person of Interest: Part 1*
You and a friend attend your precinct's Christmas party; the first time you'll be seeing your coworkers since you went undercover almost a year ago. Rather than the happy reunion with your partner and friend Cash, he seems anything but happy to see you. Locked in the basement together, you call Cash out on his BS and finally confront him about his feelings and your own.
Jan Valek (Vampires):
Heirloom: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6*
An enemies to lovers fic with Jan Valek. Reader is Jack Crow's daughter and a vamp-hunter-in-training. When Valek attacks the old Catholic school where the Black Cross of Berziers is kept and discovers his nemesis’s daughter, he kidnaps her in hopes of using her to lure him out but finds himself falling for her instead.
Saturnalia: Part 1*
Valek catches your scent on the wind and plans to feed on you, but after a single conversation with you can’t bring himself to commit such an act. Instead, he plans to find you at your friend's Winter Solstice Masquerade to be close to you, even just for the night.
Solar Flare: Part 1 | In Progress...
As vampires become a growing problem and the number of Slayers dwindles, the Catholic Church decides to perform another ‘miracle’, attempting to create a weapon that will be able to find the despicable creatures in any and all shadows that they may hide. Similarly to the botched exorcism of Jan Valek, the experimental ceremony that Rose Hanlon undergoes doesn’t go exactly as intended, and she escapes the city with a set of abilities she doesn’t even understand.
Gus Travis (Black Point):
In Deep Water: Part 1 | Part 2* | Part 3*
A dark non-con with Gus Travis. Reader is an undercover cop who has gotten in with Gus's gang to get the dirt on him and Malcolm’s crime ring. Gus gets wind of your deception and decides to punish you - for lying, for making him fall for you, for everything.
Terry McCain (Excessive Force):
Yule-Tied: Part 1* | To be continued…
You manage to get Terry to swear off work for a whole week to come with you to visit your family in New York City for the holidays. He has (unsurprisingly) charmed his way into everyone’s good books, so you decide to reward him with an early Christmas present when you get back to your hotel room the night before Christmas Eve.
Jack Blaylock (Ulterior Motives):
Coming soon…
The TIGverse (stories with more than one TIG character):
The NSFW Alphabet: Part 1* | Part 2*
A character study for both KK3 Terry and CK Terry. (I want to do more requests like these, so feel free to send in requests for my thoughts/opinions rather than full on stories if you want!)
A Tale of Two Terrys: Part 1* | To be continued…
(KK3 Terry x Reader x CK Terry) You and your husband (CK Terry) are somehow joined in bed by his younger self, who had been wondering how his future would turn out. Initially protective, your husband talks you into letting his younger self have his way with you before joining in himself.
Mediation: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5* | Part 6* | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9* | To be continued…
(Terry McCain x Reader x Cash Ewing) You are assigned as Terry McCain’s new partner after his previous partner – Cash Ewing – goes to prison for the crimes he has committed. Cash returns to Chicago years later, after his release and rehabilitation, and while he can’t be a cop anymore, he wants to make amends to those he has disappointed with his actions, most of all his former close friend Terry. Terry isn’t receptive to Cash’s attempts at reconciliation, and warns you to stay away from him, having grown very protective of his “work wife.” But you find something of a kindred spirit in Cash and want to help him get a second chance at life, deciding to do what you can to support the man and bring the two friends back together.
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Themes/Challenges
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Dark Desires October 2023:
Unjust Reward
Disorderly Conduct
Heirloom
Scream for Me
All's Fair
In Deep Water
TIGmas 2023:
Person of Interest
Saturnalia
Clear as Mud
Eye of the Storm
The Steadfast Tin Soldier
Wrapped in Red
Yule-Tied
What You Do To Me
Mediation
Guided Meditation
Turtle Doves (Cobra Husbands)
It’s Cold Outside (Jack Blaylock) Coming Soon...
Fresh Start Universe:
Fresh Start
Scream for Me
Wrapped in Red
Reunion In progress
More coming for Fresh Start February!
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AMAs (ask me anything):
Just in case you are, for some reason, interested in asking me about things or reading about what other people have asked me! (These are fun and I'm happy to answer pretty much any question you feel like asking!)
This fic is for @cortmac1989, who has asked for Valek romancing Reader at a Christmas masquerade! I’ve taken a bit of liberty with the request to stretch it out a bit longer – hope you don’t mind and that you all enjoy!
TW: Stalking; Voyeurism; Blood-drinking (due to vampirism); confession under duress (mesmerization); dark, rough sex; References to violence and murder; Gratuitously going against the lore (or lack thereof) of vampirism from the book/movie to fit my own agenda
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Saturnalia
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Valek’s POV:
He takes care to press down with every step, ensuring that a footprint is left behind in the snow. It was important to never give the humans a reason to suspect he was anything more.
Jan Valek had always embraced the winter months; the loss of hours of sunlight giving him the opportunity to surround himself with people going about their lives as usual beneath the blanket of darkness. Christmas was quickly approaching, and Valek always found himself wistfully thinking back to his human life at this time of year. His family, their traditions, all long dead… watching people all around him, bright and alive and happily thinking of their loved ones could make him feel either moved or horribly depressed.
Tonight it has him feeling empty.
He makes to leave, to return home and to his lonely, meaningless existence, when something suddenly catches his attention: an intoxicating scent on the wind that washes away all traces of his melancholia.
Curious and almost unable to help himself, he tracks the scent. He knows that the aroma belongs to a human, but he can’t remember the last time he was so tempted by the bloodlust, feeling his canines start to lengthen and sharpen as his mouth waters. He pauses in his search of the source of the appealing scent, getting himself under control – he was able to relatively blend in with the humans when his vampiric instincts lay dormant, his features only revealing their true form when he was making use of his abilities to fight or feed. There would be time for that, once he had isolated the victim…
Nicking his tongue on a still-sharpened fang, he lets his own vampiric blood flow into his mouth, helping to distract him from the scent until he is able to continue his pursuit. Eventually, he comes across a small group of people bundled up for the weather and chatting amongst themselves. One woman, the source of his temptation, stands slightly apart from the crowd, watching the others talk with a slight smile rather than participating in the conversation.
“Everyone is coming on Friday night! No excuses!” one woman’s voice drowns out the others, resulting in a cacophony of whoops and groans from the others.
“Do we have to wear a mask?” someone complains, murmurs of agreement echoing him. “Halloween was months ago!”
“Yes!” the woman insists. “It’s going to be a fancy Winter Solstice masquerade, and you’re all cooperating. We haven’t all gotten together in years, and this will be fun!”
“Your version of ‘fun’ is very different from the rest of ours, Roberta,” another person chimes in, and the woman, Roberta apparently, scowls at the group.
“We will have my family’s manor to ourselves, with full access to their liquor cabinet. Am I really asking for so much here?”
A hush falls over the group for a brief moment.
“Masquerade ball it is!”
“Great idea, Roberta!”
“Can’t wait for Friday!”
Roberta smirks, pleased that the group has been won over, but Valek finds his gaze drawn to you, the wallflower, as you roll your eyes at your friends.
“Hey, how did you get Y/N to agree to come? There’s no way alcohol would be enough to win her over!” someone asks with a laugh, and you jump as you become the new topic of conversation. Roberta throws a friendly arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer.
“She’s staying with me while she’s here; she has to!” the woman announces smugly, and you give a bashful, reluctant smile.
“Plus, she described it to me like a Saturnalia celebration, so I’ll just hide in the corner and observe from a safe distance,” you add, your smile fading as no one recognizes the word or asks about it. Valek himself is surprised that you’ve mentioned the ancient Roman festival – it has no current cultural relevance that he’s aware of.
“Ugh! No nerd stuff, please!” someone chides you, and you scowl. “You’re supposed to be taking a break from all that, Y/N!”
“And you will not be hiding in a corner during my party!” Roberta insists. “Hopefully you and Michael will hit it off before then so that he can help you have some fun!” she winks roguishly at you, and Valek hears your heartbeat speed up as you blush.
“You’re going out with Michael?” someone asks excitedly, and the other women in the group burst into giggles.
“Roberta–” you hiss at her, yanking yourself out of her grip. “I’m not talking about this. I’ll see the rest of you on Friday!” you snarl, stomping off down the snow-covered street, clearly upset.
Valek ghosts after you, staying in the shadows. Perhaps the opportunity to feed will present itself to him – he wants to savour you, just the once, and if he wasn’t rushed at the thought of being discovered, there was less chance for an… accident.
“Y/N, wait up!” Roberta calls, jogging to catch up with you. You reluctantly stop to wait for her, tapping your foot impatiently. Valek takes the opportunity to move to the other side of the hedges that line the sidewalk you were on, allowing him to eavesdrop and watch you through the snow-covered pines without being spotted himself.
“I can’t believe you,” you grumble as she approaches, and from what he can see, the woman has the grace to look abashed.
“I’m sorry, okay? I wasn’t thinking,” she says, and you two set off down the path together.
“Why are you insistent that I go out with him while I’m here?” you ask quietly after a minute or two of walking in silence, and your friend peeks over at you, concern in her eyes.
“I just… I worry that you’re alone, Y/N,” she admits. “Your parents have been gone for a few years now, you’re away from your hometown and busy with school, and I know you’re not the most social person… I just want you to be taken care of, hun.”
You let out a deep sigh, your breath coming out in a spiraling, misty cloud.
“I’m fine by myself, Bob,” you tell her, and both your mouths twist into a smile at what Valek presumes is a nickname. “I appreciate your concern, but trying to force the issue isn’t going to get me into a relationship that lasts. The right person will show up when it’s time; I don’t want to rush it.”
“I get it, I get it. I won’t do it again, I promise. Just please give Michael a chance? For me?” she asks you hopefully, and you roll your eyes.
“Fine,” you give in with a reluctant smile. “But just a quick cup of coffee – I don’t want to be stuck at a restaurant for hours if this goes south.”
Your friend nods, a wide smile on her face, and skips off ahead of you, whooping into the night.
So, he wasn’t the only one that felt alone during this time of year, Valek muses to himself as he follows the pair of you to the elegant manor house where you’ll be staying. It was unfortunate, but truly made you the ideal ‘victim,’ loathe as he was to use that word. But you had no family, you were here for a short period of time… it would be easy to make you disappear in the event that he got carried away.
He doesn’t think he will – sure, your blood was inviting, but he finds himself equally, if not more so, interested in your brain.
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One Day Later…
Reader’s POV:
You force yourself out of Roberta’s home, bundled up against the cold. You really don’t want to go on this stupid date, but you had promised, and you didn’t want to be rude to Michael.
You stifle a yawn as you make your way to the coffee shop, grateful that you’d at least be able to wake yourself up a bit with a nice, hot beverage. You hadn’t slept well the night before, and as twilight turns to dusk the darkness isn’t helping with your fatigue. Still, it’s a beautiful, clear night, the snow still thick on the ground and the treetops, so you do your best to enjoy it. Perhaps Michael would be late, and you could take some time to yourself; your journal and a bag of poetry were in your bag.
Unfortunately, you see him waiting for you outside the coffee shop as you approach, and he gives you a beaming smile that you do your best to return. No time to enjoy the night on your own, then.
Michael wraps you up in a friendly hug as he greets you, the embrace lasting slightly longer than you are comfortable with. You two weren’t complete strangers; he’d been a year above you in high school and you had seen each other at the few social events you had attended with your friends in the years since.
Once you grab your drinks you decide to make your way to the nearby park, making small talk along the way. Michael is… fine. He’s friendly, not leering overtly as he checks you out (you’re grateful again for the cold weather and the layers of clothing it affords you), and he even offered to pay for your coffee, but there’s just… nothing between you. You feel no spark, no real interest towards him, and every attempt you’ve made to tell him about your hobbies and interests he couldn’t be bothered to indulge you, always steering the conversation back to himself.
You’re disappointed, but not surprised. Like you had said to Roberta yesterday, you aren’t going to hit it off with someone by being set up with someone else. You’re old-fashioned, romantic, reserved, with a bunch of interests that people rarely wanted to hear about. Finding someone that you would connect with would be like finding a needle in a haystack, especially in this tiny town.
You sigh internally, trying to turn your attention back to Michael instead of counting down the minutes until you can go home.
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You manage to make it an hour and a half before you start laying it on thick with the exaggerated yawns, and Michael eventually takes the hint, walking you to the entrance of the park.
“I hope I’ll see you at Roberta’s party on Friday,” Michael asks with a boyish grin. “I’ll be the one in the mask!”
You let out a genuine laugh for the first time that evening. “Yes, I’ll be there – she’s insisted on it!” you reply wryly, avoiding the subject of seeing him there. You’re bad at rejecting people – you hate disappointing anyone, for any reason – and are hoping that you can just go your separate ways without having to formally announce it.
Fortunately, Michael just wishes you a good evening with another hug that you force yourself to return before he turns to head home. You frown at his back. It’s not like you need him to walk you home – or even want him to – but the gesture would have been appreciated. Letting out the sigh you’d been keeping inside all evening, you turn to head back home.
“Excuse me,” comes a smooth, deep voice behind you that makes you jump; you hadn’t heard anyone coming up behind you. Turning around, you’re taken aback by the massive man that stands just a few feet from you. He must be nearly six and a half feet tall, with long, pitch-black hair that flows to his shoulders, blending in with his dark clothing. In contrast, his skin is incredibly pale, and his eyes were a piercing blue-grey that you can’t look away from.
You take a reflexive step backwards and bite back a gasp, and the man tracks the gesture before taking a few steps back. You feel guilty immediately – he seems polite, and you hope your jumpiness didn’t offend him.
“I apologize; I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he says gently. “I merely wanted to ask if this was yours.”
He holds up a book which you immediately recognize as your poetry collection; it must have fallen out of your bag somewhere.
“Oh, yes! Thank you so much!” you exclaim with a smile, accepting the book from his gloved hand and returning it to your bag. “How did you know it was mine?” you ask, looking up at him.
“Nobody else is here. Someone was just leaving as I arrived, but he did not seem like the type to read poetry.”
You bite your lip to keep from laughing – no, Michael was definitely not the literary type. This man, on the other hand…
“He’s not – not for my lack of trying, anyway,” you say with a wistful sigh. “I’m Y/N, by the way,” you introduce yourself, extending a mittened hand to him.
“John,” he returns, taking your hand in his large one to shake it. Your skin never touches his, but you feel a thrill of electricity race from your palm up your arm, making you tingle.
“It’s so nice to meet you,” you breathe, finding yourself reluctant to step back from his personal space.
“And you,” he replies, not taking his eyes off of yours as if considering something. Your heart is thumping like mad, and you’re glad there’s no way he can hear it.
“So, the not-poet is a friend of yours, then?” John asks with an amused smirk.
“Who?” you ask, momentarily confused. This man’s presence is very overwhelming, and you find it hard to focus on anything else. “Oh, him! No, not really,” you say, rushing to get the words out. “We haven’t seen each other in years and were just catching up.”
“That makes a bit more sense,” he replies, and you cock your head at him inquisitively. “Someone closer to you should have the decency to walk you home, especially so late at night.”
You feel yourself flush, and hope that he attributes it to the cold.
“I don’t mind,” you say shyly, unable to look him in the eye as you speak. “It’s let me talk to you.”
Braving a look up at his face, you see him smiling down at you, his blue eyes glittering like the snow under the lights that line the sidewalk.
“May I walk you home, then?” he asks quietly, seeming nervous himself. “Provided that I would not be imposing.”
“You’re not imposing!” you say quickly, hoping that you’re not coming across as too eager. John merely grins at you before asking you to lead the way.
You slowly make your way back to Roberta’s home, trying not to shuffle your feet, but you can’t help it – you don’t want this walk to end. You and John talk about literature the way that you haven’t been able to with anyone outside of a college lecture hall, and it feels wonderful. John is knowledgeable, opinionated and thoughtful, and you’re both firing off questions one after the other. You can’t remember the last time you’ve felt so comfortable with a stranger; he doesn’t even feel like a stranger!
All too soon, you make your way to the front gate to Roberta’s home, turning to John with a sigh.
“This is me,” you inform him reluctantly, trying not to let your disappointment show. “Thank you so much, for giving me my book, and walking me home.”
“It was my pleasure, Y/N,” he replies warmly, before giving you that look again that has you desperately wanting to know what he’s thinking. “Have a good evening.”
“You too, John,” you say, giving him a timid smile. “I’m really glad that I met you.”
You fight the urge to look over your shoulder to see if John is still there, forcing yourself to walk up the driveway and to the large, ornate front door. The moment you close the door behind you, you press your nose to the glass of the window to check, but you can’t see him standing there. Turning, you lean your back against the door with a sigh.
What an absolute dream…
An encounter with someone like that, even just a one-off as this was – and your heart twinges at the thought of not seeing him again – made you believe that your approach to romance was correct. Why settle for just anyone when you now had evidence that someone like that existed?
“You look like you had fun.”
You jump, a guilty smile spreading across your face as Roberta enters from another room with a smug expression.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lie flatly, and the woman rolls her eyes.
“Oh please, you look positively smitten. I’ll admit, I didn’t think things would go quite this well when I set you two up!”
You open your mouth before snapping it shut again, weighing your options. Telling Roberta that your good mood was from spending time with anyone other than Michael would beget a hundred more questions that you didn’t want to answer. A large part of you wants to keep John a secret, keep tonight something that belongs only to the two of you.
You hide a smile behind a feigned yawn, moving towards the stairs and the privacy of the guest room you were staying in.
“I’m not talking about this right now. Goodnight, Bob.”
“Sweet dreams,” the woman replies, her tone thick with implications. “I plan to see this romance for myself on Friday night!”
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Friday Evening…
Valek’s POV:
He feels he’s making a mistake, but he just can’t help himself.
Entering a venue amongst a large group of people, their inhibitions lowered as they celebrate, their collective blood pumping in their veins, and your mouth-watering scent among them… For all his centuries as a vampire, Valek finds himself doubting his self-control.
He’s been taking precautions, to be sure – feeding far more than usual in the days leading up to tonight, the Winter Solstice. Tempting as you are, he finds he no longer wants to feed on you – he doesn’t think of himself as worthy.
He remembers that quote about the flower by Osho – about not picking a flower that you love, as it then ceases to be – and finds it appropriate for you. As much as he wants to take you, consume you, that would deprive the world of the beauty and life that you bring into it, should he get carried away.
Despite that, he’s going to see you tonight; he can’t bring himself to stay away.
You’ve made him feel nearly alive again, ever since your meeting a few nights ago. He’s been plagued by desires; for your blood, yes, but also for more of your conversation, your smile, your essence…
He has been tempting fate these past few evenings, needing to be close to you and content to just watch from a distance as you appear at one of the manor’s windows or walk into town with your friend. He doesn’t let himself approach the home, not wanting to torment himself, even as you sleep. Instead, he has left deep red roses on the doorstep every night for you to find in the morning. Somehow, you rightly knew that they were intended for you.
He adjusts the cuffs of his blazer, still unaccustomed to this type of modern clothing. He’s chosen a black three-piece suit and tie, his shirt a deep blue that matches his mask, his hair down, and finds himself feeling only mildly foolish. Based on the conversations he’d overheard when he had first spotted you, he assumes that this is customary.
Valek is not sure what he wants from tonight beyond getting close to you – again, this all seems like a risky endeavour – but he hopes that one night will be enough to tide him over for eternity.
It would have to be.
He makes his way to the party, the path to the manor familiar to him by now, and joins the throng of people. It doesn’t take him long to find you by scent alone, avoiding attention and standing off to the side, his wallflower. You’re wearing a floor-length, strapless blue dress and a swirling mask of blue, white and gold, your hair in an elegant twist that emphasizes your graceful neck.
Tonight will be difficult.
---
Reader’s POV:
You watch the party from a respectable distance – it’s truly a sight to behold, but not really something you want to partake in yourself. You promised Roberta you would stay downstairs and in the ballroom until at least midnight, but you’re finding it difficult to keep that promise, and it’s only just past 10.
“I did not take you for someone that would attend this sort of bacchanalia, Y/N.”
The voice sends shivers down your spine, your memories and dreams over the past few days not doing it justice. Your heart immediately begins hammering away as you turn to face him, and he is utterly resplendent in blue and black – your costumes compliment each other.
“John!” you exclaim, trying to keep the overwhelming joy you’re feeling inside. “I was coerced into coming. What’s your excuse?” you ask, curious, and he smiles secretively as he holds out a glass of wine to you. He is wearing gloves, even indoors, but you don’t comment on it as you accept the beverage. Your mouth is suddenly very dry, and you take a healthy sip of the wine, feeling warm.
“I’m quite certain that the entire town was invited. I recognized the address as your own and found it difficult to believe that you would be hosting something like this; I should have known subterfuge would be involved.”
You giggle, the wine going right to your head. “This is my friend’s parents’ place; I’m staying with her while I’m in town. She demanded I stay down here until at least midnight as a lodging fee.”
“You’ll have to introduce me to her at some point tonight. I have to thank you for ensuring your attendance,” he teases in his deep, smooth voice that has your cheeks flaming beneath your mask. “You are dazzling.”
You try not to hyperventilate, pressing yourself against the wall for support.
“So do you!” you reply quickly, trying to recover. “You look…” Stunning? Gorgeous? Delicious? Like a dark prince straight from my indecent fantasies?
“…noble! Plus, we match!” you tack on hastily, trying to move right past your corniness.
John doesn’t seem to mind, giving you a dashing smile that has you nearly swooning. Instead, you quickly finish the rest of your wine, needing the courage to continue having a conversation with this unattainable entity. Your talk quickly returns to your passionate discussion of literature, and you find yourself relaxing in John’s presence, almost unaware of the party surrounding you.
Looking back up at John – you find your eyes need to take frequent breaks from gawking at him to allow you to maintain some degree of focus – you see that he is looking at you with an amused expression.
“What?”
“You’re practically dancing,” he comments, and for the first time you notice that you are indeed swaying to the music, an orchestral version of one of your favourite pop songs. “Would you like to?” he asks, and you immediately start to panic.
“No!” you cry out before it occurs to you how the rejection might be taken. “Not because you asked, I mean; I just can’t dance.”
“Nonsense,” he counters immediately, stepping closer to you and making you tilt your head nearly all the way back in order to keep looking up at his handsome face. “It’s all in the leading. May I?” he asks, extending a hand towards you. You bite your lip, setting your empty glass down on a nearby table before placing your hand into his much larger one, your fingertips tingly as they brush against the supple leather of his glove. That same feeling of electricity shoots up your arm and nearly has you letting out a moan; the alcohol clearly isn’t helping you keep your composure.
John leads you towards the edge of the dance floor, then turns and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer but not flush against him. He raises his other hand, still holding yours, then moves his gaze pointedly to your left shoulder, your arm still nervously pressed against your side. You slowly lift your hand up between your bodies, placing it on his broad shoulder, and he gives you a pleased smile. He guides you through the slow dance, his palm pressing yours in a way that somehow has you moving the right way.
“Wow, you were right!” you exclaim in surprise, hardly able to believe it. “It’s all in the leading.”
“You are also a very good partner,” John croons down at you, his eyes twinkling beneath his mask. “Very responsive…”
His words have you blushing and feeling nearly dizzy as you sway to the music under his guidance. You could happily get lost in this moment, in his blue, blue eyes forever…
But after a few songs, you’re feeling overwhelmed and need a break; it’s almost hard for you to breathe. Reluctantly, you remove your hand from his shoulder, and he respectfully releases you.
“I’m going to go get some water if I can, provided Roberta hasn’t replaced it all with vodka. Can I get you anything to drink?” you offer with a smile, wanting to do something, anything for him. John’s lips twitch in amusement, but he declines your offer, and you move through the crowd, trying not to stumble in your haste to get to the refreshment table and back to him as quickly as possible.
You gulp down the cool water greedily, still feeling so warm all over. You’re desperate to return to John – you feel a tangible ache at being apart from him, and while you’re not sure that it’s a good or healthy thing, it’s not something you’re willing to endure any longer than you have to.
“I’ve been looking for you.”
Whirling around, you’re disappointed to see not John, but Michael, his black and gold costume a bit too ostentatious for your liking. But you suppose you’re being a bit unfair; there was nothing this man could do to hold a candle to John in your eyes.
“Good evening, Michael. Enjoying the party?” you ask politely, even as your eyes scan the ballroom for John – he’s not where you left him.
“I am now. Would you like to dance?”
You hesitate before giving your answer. You really don’t want to give Michael the time of day, but you’re not comfortable with rejecting him, especially surrounded by people you both knew. And even without alcohol, him possibly seeing you with John, or any other factors, men could be unpredictable when they were jealous or rejected. You look for John somewhat desperately one last time, hoping he’ll come save you, but he is nowhere to be found.
“Okay,” you agree noncommittally, unable to feign even a shred of enthusiasm. Unlike John, Michael pulls you tightly against him as he dances with you, his hips chasing yours in a way that makes you feel dirty and uncomfortable. You try to step away after the song ends, but he tightens his grip on you, giving you a pleading expression, and you resign yourself to another dance. He isn’t even bothering to try to speak with you, content to occupy your body rather than your mind, and you’re not upset about it as it allows you to keep your thoughts on John.
You manage to talk Michael out of asking for a third dance, but he doesn’t get the hint, attaching himself to your side as you move through the ballroom, still looking for John. He was so tall, so impressive, so utterly impossible to miss, that you’ve all but accepted that he’s left the party. You hope he hadn’t seen you dancing with Michael and gotten the wrong impression…
The large clock chimes twelve times, and you’ve never been more grateful for the sound. You’ve held up your end of the bargain to Roberta, and are now free to leave the party, and without John’s presence, there’s nothing to keep you here.
You fake a yawn, trying to look at Michael with an apologetic expression that you know rings hollow.
“Oh, I didn’t realize it had gotten so late. I’m exhausted,” you say. Michael looks pleased to hear this information, and the hair on the back of your neck stands on end at his expression.
“Would you like me to walk you to your room?” he purrs, and you suppress a shudder, certain that he will misinterpret it.
“Oh, no thank you,” you say clearly. “It was wonderful to see you again, Michael. Have a good night.”
You move past him without another word, not wanting this conversation to go on any longer, and hurry to the staircase and your bedroom. You slip inside and immediately take your mask off, feeling dejected. John’s presence at the party had been such a wonderful surprise, but his disappearance has left you feeling hollow and surprisingly upset.
There’s a knock at the door and you reluctantly open it, expecting Roberta to be chastising you. Instead, John’s tall form looms in the doorway, his dark mask still concealing his face. You briefly stop breathing, your heart thudding against your ribs.
“John!” you cry, the joy evident in your voice. “What are you doing here?”
“I saw you leave after speaking with that man from the park, and you looked upset. Are you alright?”
“I –” you start to say, but you pause, wanting to choose your words carefully. Were you alright? Probably not, considering you were head over heels for a mystery man you barely knew.
“I thought you had left, and I didn’t want Michael bothering me anymore,” you tell him instead, keeping things vague. “Where did you go? I was kind of hoping you would come rescue me.”
“Well, that wouldn’t have been proper.”
“Regardless, it would have been appreciated.”
John opens his mouth to continue your banter but freezes, his head turning to the stairs. After a moment, you hear the footsteps that had undoubtedly caught his attention; he must have excellent hearing. Feeling brazen, especially seeing as you don’t know if or when you would see him again, you take John’s hand and tug him inside, closing the door and turning out the light. You press your ear against the door, listening to the approaching footsteps. John watches you, an amused smirk on his face, and you glare at him in the silence. Eventually, the footsteps retreat, and after a moment or two of waiting, you conclude that Michael has gone, flicking the light back on with a sigh.
“You know, you could consider telling the man you are not interested,” John suggests with amusement. You growl at him.
“I shouldn’t have to outright reject him to keep him from trying to follow me to my bedroom,” you snarl, and he raises an eyebrow at you. “Plus, men aren’t always the most accepting of a rejection.”
John is visibly upset by the implications of your words, and something about his slight shift in demeanour has you feeling wary.
“Are you suggesting that someone hurt you as a result of you rejecting them?” he hisses, the sound making you shudder.
“It was a long time ago, and it wasn’t that bad,” you reply quickly, wanting him to settle down. “Loads of my friends have experienced way worse! It’s fine, John, really,” you add, trying to reassure him. His jaw is still clenched, but he takes a deep breath, clearly trying to calm down.
“Why would anyone respond with such anger?” he asks, sounding appalled. Perhaps the culture where he was from was vastly different from America.
“Most people only want to hear what they want to hear,” you say with a shrug. “No one is interested in honesty. I mean, I think I prefer the truth, but even I lie to people if the need arises – I’ve accepted that it’s necessary.”
“Do you mean you would always prefer the truth?” he asks, his eyes locking with yours with a serious expression.
“Yes.”
“In every circumstance?” he presses, clearly fishing for something. It has you feeling nervous.
“Yes, I think so,” you breathe, your eyes at his back as he walks across the room to look out your window. After what feels like an eternity, he turns back to you.
“I have not been honest with you, Y/N,” he confesses, looking deeply into your eyes with a pained expression, and you immediately feel yourself choke up. Of course this wasn’t real; there’s no way that somebody like him could truly exist.
Best get the truth out of him now, then, so that you could move on. You can already feel tears pricking your eyes, so immediately affected by his deception.
“W-What do you mean, John?” you ask in a weak, timid voice, and he takes a deep breath before responding.
“My name is not John,” he begins, and you tense up, the blood in your veins turning to ice. “I am Jan Valek, the first and oldest vampire.”
Neither of you blink or say anything for a long moment, your eyes locked. Finally, you let out a breathless, slightly hysterical laugh, the alcohol burning away your nerves.
“T-That’s a good one!” you giggle, unable to contain yourself, and John surveys you with a mildly irritated expression.
“I could prove it to you, if you’d like,” he offers.
“Oh by all means, go ahead!” you agree, beginning to laugh harder.
In a movement far too quick for you to see, he closes the distance between you, taking you in his arms and lowering his head to the side of your neck for a long moment, inhaling deeply. Your laughter dies in your throat immediately. He releases you, taking a step back before reaching up to pull away his mask. Blue veins beneath his pale skin are now prominent around his eyes, and he opens his mouth, revealing a rapidly growing set of sharp fangs.
You scream, stumbling backwards, but then he is on you once more, covering your mouth and nose with a gloved hand and lowering you to the ground gently.
“Calm down, Y/N,” he commands you, a strange light shining in his eyes, and against all rational thought you feel your body start to relax, your heartbeat returning to normal.
“That’s good,” he murmurs approvingly. “Speak quietly,” he adds, his eyes doing the glowing thing again, and you feel the scream you had been building up fade away. He removes his hand from your face, and you wrench yourself out of his grip, scampering back and away from him.
“What…” you begin, clearing your throat as your voice comes out hoarse and soft. “What did you just do?” you demand, the alcohol helping you push past your fear into anger.
“Mesmerization – it’s a sort of hypnosis,” John – Valek, apparently – explains, his voice calm.
“You hypnotized me?!” you hiss, injecting as much venom into your voice as possible since you are unable to yell at him.
“I didn’t want you to draw anyone’s attention, Y/N, I apologize,” the vampire offers, somehow sounding both sincere and unrepentant.
“Why? Are you going to kill me?” you ask him, whimpering at the thought. Strangely, the thought doesn’t upset you as much as the fact that he has been lying to you.
“No.” His reply is forceful and immediate; he looks anguished at the mere suggestion.
“Then what do you want?!” you cry out as loudly as you can, tears streaking down your face. You’re very aware of how the cut of your dress and your updo leave your neck completely exposed, and you pull your hair out of its twist to fall past your shoulders, concealing you. You know that it’s a completely pointless gesture, but you can’t help yourself, the instinct to cover yourself overwhelming.
Valek watches you with a pained, sad expression.
“It is not your blood that I desire, but your heart,” he confesses, longing and desire filling his eyes. “When I first came upon you, I did want to feed on you. Your scent is… intoxicating,” he groans slightly, his eyes rolling back into his head. Goosebumps erupt over your body as pure, primal terror courses through you.
“But as I heard you speak, as I watched you, as I spoke to you myself, you captivated me,” he continues, as though he hadn’t just admitted to wanting to drink your blood. “I have never been drawn to another as I have been drawn to you, Y/N. I have lived over seven hundred years, and in you I find a kindred spirit for the first time; you make me feel alive in ways I long thought were impossible. I have never wanted another the way that I want you, and I know that I will never find another like you as long as I live. I would happily spend the remainder of my existence by your side, and you would be the only thing in this world that I would cherish.”
There is a prolonged silence between you as you struggle to think of something, anything to say in response. Eventually, you give up.
“What am I supposed to say to that?” you ask, your voice slightly hysterical. How could you believe any of this?
“Do you desire me in the same way? As a confidante, a partner, a lover?” he asks bluntly. “Please, beloved, tell the truth,” he adds, and you feel the mesmerization at work once more. You’re upset that he’s controlling you with his strange magical abilities, but the urge to answer builds within you, creating a pressure so great that you are quickly forced to respond.
“Yes,” you moan out the truth, the intense feeling immediately dissipating as the words leave your lips. “You have been everything I have waited for, everything that I hoped a soulmate could be.”
The look he gives you is that of a man seeing the sun for the first time, awe and euphoria practically pouring out of him.
“But this is too much!” you continue, brushing aside the guilt that makes your heart clench as you watch his own break at your words. “You wanted to hurt me, to kill me! You’re not even human! And you lied to me – how am I meant to trust anything you say, to trust you with my life, when I’m… I’m so scared of you right now!” you sob hysterically, wrapping your arms around your knees. “I don’t want to feel this way for you, I don’t want to love you!”
You force yourself to look back up at him, scared at what your rejection might cause him to do. He is frozen in his crouched position on the floor across from you, eerily still, an expression of pure agony on his face. His eyes flit to yours, and then he nods, standing up in a flash of movement that causes you to let out a strangled yelp. He lifts you to your feet before you can protest, his movements gentle and controlled, and you find yourself trembling in his grip.
“Sleep, beloved,” he murmurs, and your eyelids immediately feel heavy. He guides you to your bed, helping you onto it but making no move to join you. You know that you should feel upset, angry, terrified – who knew what the extent of his strangely hypnotic powers were? – but you find yourself trusting him against your better judgement. He covers you with the blanket, looming over you, and you close your eyes – it’s too difficult to look at him right now. Still, you feel a tear escape and trail down your cheek at the mess of emotions that would be overwhelming you right now if you weren’t so tired.
“Be at peace, my treasure,” he coos softly as you drift off. “I wish for nothing more than your happiness.”
---
The next few days are hard and lonely. You had steadfastly rejected Roberta’s invitation to spend Christmas and New Year’s Eve at a nearby ski lodge with your other friends, desperately needing to be alone. You’re grateful for the time to yourself – you know you wouldn’t be able to hide the turmoil of your emotions from anybody. You had initially wanted to get a flight back to school when you woke up the day after the party, wanting to be away from this place and anything that made you think of him, but a snowstorm had grounded all flights.
You’ve been too scared to leave the house, afraid of running into him despite knowing that he wouldn’t need to lie in wait for you in town if he wanted to see you. Regardless, you’re grateful for the fully stocked fridge and pantry – there was no reason you would have to leave the little bubble of safety you had encased yourself in.
You yawn once again despite it being the middle of the day, rubbing your eyes sleepily. The days since the masquerade have been devastating – you’ve floated around in a fog, confused and heartbroken and exhausted. You can’t get Valek out of your head; you dream of him, you think you see him in the shadowy corners of the manor… you recognize the symptoms of lovesickness and heartbreak from your favourite old romance novels, but you never expected that the pain could be quite so intense.
You’ve taken to jotting your thoughts and feelings down in your journal, just needing to get them out of your head – this isn’t exactly the sort of thing that you can talk to Roberta about. A shame, really; she’d been wanting for you to have a love life for years now, and now that you actually have a situation you can’t even come to her with it.
You wander around the manor, eventually ending up in the ballroom – you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to visit it since the night of the masquerade. You wrap your arms around your body comfortingly – the large, open space is incredibly drafty and cold when not filled with people. Your eyes instinctively move to the wall on the far side of the room where the two of you had stood, and you again feel overwhelmed by your emotions. You miss him terribly; not just his presence, but the way he made you feel worthwhile, hopeful for the first time in a long time.
But, as much as your heart aches with regret, you can’t stop the shiver of fear that runs through you at the thought. Valek was a vampire, immortal, lethal; he had wanted to kill you before you had even met!
You force yourself to head back to your room, the ballroom bringing up too much for you to handle just now. It’s dark again already, and you turn the bedroom light on as you enter. Your eyes flit to your journal, still laid open on your desk, bits and pieces of your handwriting jumping off the page at you.
… It isn’t only the feelings he sparks in me, but their depth; I never would have believed such intense emotion existed, let alone that it could be felt so much, and for so long…
… I haven’t had a restful sleep since that night, and it’s starting to affect even my waking life. I see him in every shadow, anticipate him around every corner; he has consumed me entirely, and I fear that it will go on forever…
You grimace down at your messy cursive, feeling pathetic. Who’s to say that he had even been genuine about his feelings for you in the first place? You could be mourning the loss of a relationship that he never even wanted.
You turn to sit on your bed, and as you do you notice that your book of poetry is open on your bedside table, a deep red rose placed along the spine as a bookmark. You freeze. You had buried that book in your luggage the morning after the party, and tossed the roses away immediately afterwards, not wanting to see anything to do with him, and you have been alone in the house for days now. Against your better judgement, you pick up the book, moving the rose to rest on the table and reading the poem on the open page.
somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose
or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands
You find yourself tearing up as you read the poem with fresh eyes, Valek’s choice both beautiful and heart-wrenching. You’re still unsure if you can believe his feelings to be genuine, but if they are, you both share the same intense angst of an unrequited love. You take a deep breath, bracing yourself as you prepare to confront him.
“Valek?” you call out, your quiet voice still echoing through the silent old house. It was the first time you had said his real name; you haven’t allowed yourself to since learning it.
There’s a light breeze behind you and when you turn, Jan Valek is standing in the middle of your bedroom. Your heart races immediately, both in fear and longing, and you’re unable to tell whether you want to run into his arms or to run away. You survey each other in silence for a long moment, and then he finally opens his mouth to speak.
“Don’t!” you growl out, your voice not betraying any of the nervousness and fear you’re currently feeling. His mouth snaps shut.
“Don’t even think about trying your mesmerizing hocus pocus on me, Jan Valek!” you snarl, and he presses his lips into a thin line; you think he may be trying to keep himself from laughing, which only fuels your anger.
“Who the hell do you think you are? You follow me around because you want to… kill me, or eat me, or whatever, you spy on me, you hyponotize me into confessing that I’m in love with you, you break in, you read my journal, you go through my things!” you pause mid-rant to catch your breath, angrily tossing the book of poetry at him, and he lets it smack him in the chest, remaining perfectly still. “How am I meant to feel about all of this, Valek?! I’m scared, I’m angry, I haven’t slept in days, I don’t even feel like a person anymore! You’ve ruined me!” you sob, unable to look him in the eye, instead staring at the ground in front of his feet.
“But I don’t need to tell you any of that; God knows you’ve been watching me suffer this whole time,” you whisper softly, your anger completely drained from you and replaced with a painful emptiness. You hear a sharp intake of breath that makes you look up at him through your tears; he looks completely devastated.
“So what do you want?” you ask, bracing yourself for the answer, be it in the form of words or his fangs piercing your flesh. “Why are you here?” you demand, crossing your arms in front of you.
“I could not bring myself to stay away,” he admits in a quiet, pained voice, looking at the ground just as you had during your own little speech. “At first I was merely being selfish, needing to see you again. Then, I saw you suffering as I have been, and I needed to know that you would pull out of it, that you would be alright. But it has been days, and you are in such pain… I do not know what I can do to make it stop, but I will do anything you ask; I cannot bear knowing of your heartache any longer.”
Your heartbreak takes on an entirely different level of hurt as you watch this giant, otherworldly man come undone at witnessing your suffering. So much of your soul longs for Valek, your love for him rivaling all other emotions, and you find yourself needing to ease his pain, so intertwined with your own. But how to do it?
“Give me a minute,” you tell him quietly when he looks like he’s becoming agitated with your lack of response, “I’m trying to think.” He nods, seeming relieved that you’re planning on answering him at all.
You force yourself to confront all of the negative feelings that this man – for he was still a man, at least in some regard – to try to figure out where they were coming from and how they could be rectified. There was just so much that was completely unknown to you: who he was, what he was, what he wanted with you… perhaps getting some answers would help clarify things for you.
“You forced me to tell you the truth,” you remind him bitterly, and his mouth twists into a grimace. He certainly seems to regret his actions. “Will you do the same for me? Answer my questions honestly, no matter what?”
He nods immediately, the corners of his mouth turning up in a small smile. “I will never lie to you again, dear one. Ask me anything, and I will tell you true. And if at the end you wish to be rid of me, I will never bother you again.”
Your heart twinges painfully at the mere thought of never seeing him again, but you push your feelings down for the moment, giving him a nod.
“Sit first, please,” he implores you, gesturing to your bed. “You are exhausted, beloved.” You move back, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, not wanting to get too comfortable and fall asleep. Now that Valek is here, much of the pain you had been enduring had gone away, being replaced with overwhelming fatigue.
“What about you?” you ask, crossing your legs under yourself.
“I do not tire as you do; my kind has no need for sleep.”
“Well, sit for my sake then, if you would. Looking up at you will hurt my neck after awhile.”
Amused, he looks around the room at his various seating options, then neglects them all in favour of kneeling on the carpet before you, looking up at you with pure devotion.
“V-Valek,” you stammer, peering down at him. “I meant in a chair…”
“I am where I wish to be, Y/N. Now please, what answers are you wanting to hear?” he insists, gazing up at you expectantly.
You decide to start with some of the safer, less personal questions – namely, the ones about vampirism.
“So… you’re a vampire,” you begin hesitantly, worrying your lower lip between your teeth.
“I am,” he answers, smiling at you indulgently.
“Does that mean that you kill people regularly?” You hold your breath, bracing yourself for the answer.
“Not regularly,” he clarifies. “I have killed vampire Slayers who attempted to kill me and mine, mostly.”
“There are vampire slayers?” you interrupt him, incredulous.
“Yes, they are a part of the Catholic Church.”
You blink down at him, stunned as you process that piece of information. “That’s… er… alright.”
“I do not make a habit of killing humans, Y/N,” he continues, returning to your initial question. “I have, on occasion, gone too far while feeding, and lost myself to the moment, but not for many years. It is largely an issue of self-restraint, and I have had centuries to develop that.”
You mull this information over.
“So you don’t normally kill people to feed on them?”
“Rarely, and never intentionally.”
“And how often do you feed?”
“Every week or so.”
“And do your… victims know about it?”
Valek looks away from you with a contrite expression. You wait him out for a long moment, staring down at the top of his head, but he doesn’t respond.
“You promised,” you remind him, and he looks back at you, ashamed.
“They do not,” he admits, and you find yourself reflexively leaning away from him. His eyes track your movement with an unhappy expression. “Please, may I explain to you why?”
You nod; if he’s willing to give you the truth, the least you can do is listen to it.
“Once we have fed, it is common practice to coat the wound in our saliva. It seals the wound and expedites healing. By morning, they will have a faint bruise, and the area may feel tender for a day or two, but nothing more. I typically mesmerize the victim to sleep beforehand; they never realize anything has happened.”
“You mesmerized me to sleep,” you point out with a cold expression. “Did you feed on me?”
“No, beloved, I assure you. I knew from the first minutes of our conversation that I would never in good conscience feed on you,” he reveals, sincerity ringing in every word. “Without your permission, that is.”
“Why would someone give permission to be fed on?” you ask, confused. “What good does it do them?”
“Companionship between vampires and humans is not unheard of, romantic or otherwise, though I have no personal experience with that sort of thing,” Valek says, and your heart skips a beat. “Some humans offer themselves to be fed on in place of unwitting victims, believing it to be easier on their conscience for befriending one of my kind.”
He rests his head on your mattress next to your legs, looking up at you with a scorching gaze that has your knees going weak. “I have also been told that the sensation of being fed on is nothing short of ecstasy.”
Your mouth goes dry, and you busy yourself by adjusting your position – namely so that you can clench your legs together, darkly seductive images coming to mind. Perhaps Valek’s vampirism was yet another reason you had been drawn to him, your sexual fantasies far less innocent than your relative inexperience would suggest.
“Regardless,” you say, trying to get back on track – or at least away from the current topic. “Just because you heal someone up afterwards and they never know about it doesn’t justify feeding on them without their knowledge.”
“I agree with you; my reasons are entirely selfish,” Valek concedes, looking regretful once more. “But think of how you responded when I showed you what I am; how you are still afraid of me now.”
You swallow, thinking back to the primal fear that flowed through you as you had seen his true form for the first time.
“I do not enjoy being a monster, Y/N,” Valek admits, his voice filled with anguish. “I do not want to cause harm to humans, to see their fear and revulsion in their eyes. Not even if I can compel them to forget it by morning.”
You pity him, seeing the toll that the centuries of suffering he has endured has taken on him. It wasn’t his choice to be a vampire, you presume, and watching others be terrified of you for doing what was necessary to stay alive must be intolerable. Perhaps there is some logic to his approach…
You pester him with further questions, each of his answers only bringing up more questions. He tells you about his abilities – you grill him particularly aggressively about mesmerization – and how many of his kind there are, which prompts questions about how someone is Turned into a vampire. The interrogation goes on for ages, and you find yourself fighting your fatigue more and more as the night stretches on.
“You said that you were the first vampire the other day - How did you become a vampire if no one was around to bite you?” you ask, immediately feeling horribly guilty as the question has him nearly cringing. “I’m sorry! You don’t have to tell me.”
He looks back up at you appreciatively, slowly lifting a gloved hand to yours, stroking the back of your hand. You snatch up one of his fingers, giving it a squeeze with a shy smile, and his gaze softens at the gesture.
“I said that I would tell you the truth, my treasure, and I will. But thank you for your grace, Y/N,” Valek coos, and you feel yourself blush. He summarizes the brutal and unjust exorcism gone wrong, and you feel a vicious rage building within you that you haven’t experienced before.
“That’s horrific,” you hiss, nearly shaking in your anger. Valek reaches up without having to look, reclaiming your hand once more.
“Do not be angry, beloved – it was very long ago, and I have made peace with it.”
“How?!” you ask incredulously. “What could possibly help you get over something like that?”
“It enabled me to meet you.”
His tone is casual, as though it should be obvious that knowing you was worth torture and a warped, twisted life of immortality, though he can’t bring himself to look into your eyes. You’re sure he can hear the way your heart is hammering under your ribs.
“Valek… you can’t mean that.”
He smoothly gets to his feet, turning to look down at you with reverence. “I do mean it, little one,” he croons. “I may have accepted this existence centuries ago, but I have never been grateful for it until I met you. My heart no longer beats, but I feel as though it could for you, Y/N. I desire you in any and every capacity you would allow me to have you, my love."
The confession is everything you dreamed of hearing one day, and so much more.
“The other vampires that you mentioned before, the ones that were involved romantically with humans… how did those relationships end?” you ask hesitantly, and Valek’s eyes light up at the implication that you aren’t completely shutting down the idea of being with him.
“Some go their separate ways, some live out their partner’s mortal life with them, and others go on forever, the vampire Turning the human,” he explains, laying out your options. “I would never Turn you unless it was something that you wanted, Y/N,” he assures you. “I will be with you until your dying breath if you permit it, be that as a mortal or a vampire.”
You’re not sure when you moved off the bed, but you find yourself slowly closing the distance between you until you’re nearly in his arms.
“You are mesmerizing me, Jan Valek,” you accuse, looking up at him with unbridled longing. “You have to be. This can’t be real.”
“I assure you that you have the same hold on me, my treasure,” Valek purrs, his presence seeming to surround you, though he makes no move to touch you, as though worried the gesture might scare you away. “You have me completely at your mercy, Y/N. I will give you anything, you need only to ask.”
“I… I want everything that you are, Valek,” you confess, feeling as though a weight has been lifted from your shoulders the moment you get the words out. “I love you; I need you.”
Valek slowly reaches for you, drawing you close to him with an arm around your waist, his other hand gently brushing a loose lock of hair behind your ear before cradling the side of your face.
“Kiss me,” you beg in a whisper, and he immediately obliges, bending to capture your lips with his own. The tingling sensation that had raced through you when your hand had touched his gloved one in the past pales in comparison to the sheer electricity that courses through you as your lips meet. Your desire fully overwhelms you as you throw yourself at him, leaping into his arms to twine your arms around his neck, your bodies flush with one another as you kiss him with everything you’ve got.
Valek seems briefly taken aback by your ferocity; it takes him a moment before he lifts you right off your feet, holding you against him with ease as you devour one another. His lips are surprisingly soft and warm, and incredibly inviting – you find yourself getting dizzy. Valek lowers you back to the ground, trying to break the kiss, but you cling to him; he ends up having to forcefully pull you off of him.
“You stopped breathing, beloved,” he explains with a chuckle when you pout at him, not even aware of your body frantically trying to catch its breath. You blush, horribly embarrassed, and he scoops you up, carrying you to the bed and sitting you down on it, moving to stand back from you, intent on waiting for you to calm down.
“That’s hardly my fault,” you say huffily, staring up at him with dark, hooded eyes, and he smirks down at you in a way that has your whole body trembling with need. “Please don’t stop!”
Valek has you on your back on the bed quicker than you can blink, looming over you with his larger form but pointedly not touching you. Impatiently, you reach up to pull him down but he thwarts your attempts, gathering your wrists and pinning them over your head gently with one hand. Such a little act of dominance has your eyes rolling into the back of your head, completely ready and willing to give yourself to him in any way he wants.
“Tell me what you need, my heart. I want to taste your desire in your words,” he purrs, lowering his body closer to yours but remaining just out of reach.
He makes you want to let go and lose control and just feel, and you tell him as much, shamelessly begging him to take you and do all the darkly romantic, sensual things you didn’t think you’d ever be able to bring yourself to ask for. The heated look he gives you assures you that he will give you them all and nearly has you delirious with lust.
He moves agonizingly slowly, his hands controlled and precise as he undresses you. Every inch of your flesh exposed to his gaze is looked upon with adoration and awe, and he doesn’t stop to give into his burning desire to touch you until he has fully divested you of your clothes, relying on every shred of patience he’s developed during the course of his existence. Having not had his centuries of experience, you eagerly try to push his heavy coat off his shoulders, your fingers moving to the buttons on his shirt as he chuckles and moves to help you take off his coat.
“Patience, my dear,” Valek croons, taking hold of your hands once more as you squirm underneath him, chilly and impatient and desperate for his touch. “I fully intend to savour every moment of this as I make you mine.”
“But I want to see you!” you whine, pouting up at him and batting your eyes. He looks down at your naked form, desperate with need for him, and the pale blue veins around his eyes start to appear as he gives into his carnal desires. He licks his lips, and you see his fangs sharpening in his mouth.
“Fuck,” you moan wantonly as his vampiric side comes out. Instead of the fear that you had felt the first time you had seen him in this form, now it only sends a thrill through you; somehow, you want him even more because of the danger he poses. Valek, however, misunderstands and immediately moves to soothe you.
“It is alright, Y/N, just the similarities between bloodlust and my lust for you that bring this side out of me. I can stop if you are frightened, but I assure you that I am still in control of myself.”
“I’m not!” you pant, unsuccessfully trying to squirm out of his grip and pounce on him. “Please, Valek, I’m not scared of you doing anything except stopping.”
He leans down to kiss you once again to silence your complaints, and you happily oblige him, letting him kiss you into submission, his dark hair falling around you like a curtain. Still with his lips on yours, Valek tears his gloves off to reveal his long, slender fingers and sharp nails, running them lightly up your sides and making you arch up off the bed with a wail, your cries swallowed by his mouth.
He releases your lips, allowing you to catch your breath while he lays kisses all over your face as though he wants to claim every inch of you. You hope he does; you’re already all his.
“Your skin tastes of sunshine,” he murmurs seductively, his lips moving lightly down your neck to one of your shoulders, then slowly making their way along your collarbone to the other. “I would bask in your warmth forever if you would let me, beloved.”
“I will, I do,” you moan, reaching between you to try to finish taking off his shirt. A loud, purring rumble emanates from within him as your fingers stroke his bare chest, giving you a fluttering sense of pride. Feeling more confident, you slide your hands up along his neck to hold his face, tilting it upwards so that his eyes meet yours. He cocks his head at you with an inquisitive expression.
“You know that I love your old-fashioned approach to romance, Valek,” you tell him seriously, “and we will have my entire lifetime – if not forever – to take things slow. But I need to be yours right now. And I don’t want you to be gentle; show me that you desire me the way I do you – don’t hold back.”
He gives you a nearly feral look, his hands curling into fists as he tries to control himself; somehow, you are able to sense the energy he’s fighting to keep inside of him instead of tearing into something.
“You wish for a taste of darkness, beloved?” he asks, pulling off his shirt and tossing it to the side. You gawk at his broad, pale chest, trying not to drool, and lick your lips. Valek hisses at the action, adjusting himself over his pants. You sit up, your hands moving to his belt; this time, he doesn’t stop you.
“I wish for a taste of you, Valek,” you tell him in a fierce whisper, looking up at him as you remove his belt and move to the button of his pants. “If being rough with me will make you feel half as good as I know it’ll make me feel, then yes, please. Claim me, my love. Make all of me yours.”
He pins you back against the sheets with a growl, his sharp nails drawing teasing patterns across your breasts, your nipples peaking as if to demand more of the rough treatment. You arch your back, thrusting your breasts into his hands with a needy cry. Valek is utterly merciless in his torment, bringing you to the threshold between pleasure and pain and keeping you there. You are practically vibrating with need as one of his hands trails down your torso to your thighs, parting them with ease. One long finger slips between your slick folds, grazing your clit, and you shriek, bucking your hips towards him. You hear him snicker softly against your chest, his lips and tongue continuing to tease your breasts as his hands move lower.
“You are otherworldly when you are giving into sin, Y/N,” he croons, his fingers insistent as they explore your entrance, slick with your arousal. You let out a whimper that he swallows into his mouth, his fingers working at your clit and not relenting until you’re on the precipice of orgasm before he backs off, only to repeat the action, edging you over and over until you’re nearly delirious. And still, all you want is more.
“Please!” you manage to beg him, your hands guiding his face to your neck, wordlessly trying to convey what you want. You’re losing all sense of lucidity, clinging desperately to your sanity as he brings you so close to the edge. Valek turns his head to the side, his tongue reaching out to lick the outer shell of your ear and making you shiver.
“Please what, my sweet? I want to hear you say it,” he whispers, and you can tell he is enjoying prolonging your torture.
“Bite me! Feed on me!” you demand shamelessly, your eyes shut tight as you try to focus on the feeling of his mouth on your skin, seeking any indication that he will give this to you. “Make me scream for you.”
You hear him inhale deeply, his nose lightly running up and down the side of your neck, and you turn your head to the side to give him better access. His fingers have stopped their endless teasing of your swollen clit, but you are still trembling in anticipation. You feel his tongue dart out and give your sensitive flesh a sinful lick, making you gasp for breath.
Finally, you feel him bite you, the only pain being a slight sting that only adds to the overwhelming pleasure that courses through you. You’re not even sure that ecstasy was an accurate enough description for this feeling coursing through your veins – the pleasure is absolutely indescribable. Your eyes roll back in your head, the parts of your body not currently pinned in place by his body thrashing out of your control as you come violently. You hear yourself distantly shrieking in rapture, moaning and whimpering his name, babbling for more as he feeds on you, his fingers relentless at your clit and drawing out your climax – or maybe he was just making you orgasm again and again without interruption.
Eventually, he ends his torment, licking your wound to seal it before lifting his head from your neck, traces of blood on his lips. He stares down at you with a satiated expression, trying to remove his hand from between your clenched thighs, still spasming and out of your control. You’re sure that your inner thighs will be bruised from how you had squeezed them against his firm hand, and the idea only adds to your bliss. He leans down to kiss you but hesitates, unsure of your willingness to taste your own blood. You’re able to gather enough strength and lucidity to force yourself to sit up and kiss him, pulling him down to lay on top of you. There is a slight metallic taste to his lips, but it is largely overshadowed by the intoxicating taste of Valek, an indescribable flavour that you’re sure you’ll never get enough of.
“Finally satisfied, my little temptress?” Valek asks teasingly against your lips, your body completely relaxed beneath him.
“Nearly,” you hum through a yawn, blindly reaching to remove his pants once more. He groans, rolling over with you and cradling you on top of his chest.
“You are exhausted, beloved,” he points out, stroking your hair affectionately. “There will be time enough for that later.” Stubbornly, you ignore him, pushing yourself up onto your knees and tugging his pants down his legs, trying and failing to dodge his hands as they snatch up your wrists.
“Valek!” you whine, pouting down at him. His lips quirk into a smile at your persistence, and you narrow your eyes at him before throwing one leg over him and straddling his narrow waist, inches away from where you really want to be. Valek stills, transfixed, and you slowly bend down until your face is right above his, feeling decidedly naughty.
“I believe we agreed that you would be rough with me, my love,” you murmur, one hand drawing teasing patterns across his bare chest. “I hope you don’t think I’m so delicate that I’ve already had enough of you tonight. I need you to defile me, inside and out.” You grind yourself against his firm abdominal muscles, and he growls. You decide to try the innocent approach next to get him to give in.
“Please?” you ask, batting your eyelashes down at him with the most innocent expression you can muster, and he lets out a wild snarl, rolling you onto your back again and tearing off the rest of his clothes hastily before positioning himself between your legs. You can’t see his cock, pressed against him as you are, but you can certainly feel it, the silky hard length rubbing against your thighs enticingly. Eagerly, you wrap your legs around his waist, trying to line him up with your entrance by feel alone.
“You will be my undoing, my treasure,” he tells you, his blue eyes locked with yours, and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him towards you until your foreheads touch.
“And you will be my forever, Valek,” you reply, kissing him passionately. He thrusts into your wet heat in one fluid movement that has your toes curling and sets about claiming you yet again; you have only so much time before the sunrise.
---
[FYI: The poem Valek chose for her is “Somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond” by E.E. Cummings]
Hope you all enjoyed! Day #3's fic is looking to be more depraved than this one, if all goes according to plan... 👁️👄👁️
(It's a carry-over from Dark Desires October I didn't get to; sue me!)
“I cannot stand by and watch this go on for another minute, Jan!” Cassandra snarls at Valek, baring her fangs at him. “You will talk to her, or I will,” she threatens, and he hisses in warning.
“You will do no such thing,” Valek orders, stretching to his full height and towering over the tiny woman ominously. “Y/N is still adjusting to this life, she doesn’t need any other problems to worry about,” he continues less aggressively, trying to reason with her. Following your Turning, the group had relocated to Valek’s castle in Germany to conduct research on the Berziers Cross. You had thrown yourself into the research, and he was incredibly grateful for it; the last thing he wanted to do was distract you from your task.
“Adjusting? She’s taken to being a vampire more easily than anyone I’ve ever seen, Jan, be reasonable,” Cassandra scoffs, turning her nose up at him. “But it has been a month now, and I have grown tired of watching the two of you tiptoe around each other!”
Since the night you had been Turned, you and Valek had not spoken of your feelings, nor your kiss in your last human moments. He had chalked it up to you being relieved that he was alright and would be saving you as well, or to the bloodloss, or shock, at least on your end. His own feelings were of little consequence in comparison to your own.
“Y/N has given no indication that she wishes to be involved with me,” he protests, and Cassandra rolls her eyes.
“Really, Jan, are you blind?” she rebuffs him, waving away his defence with her hand. “She cared for you as a human, and she cares for you now. Why must you work so hard to refuse yourself happiness?”
“It is not my happiness I am concerned about, Cassandra,” he snaps defensively, and to his annoyance, her expression softens.
“Dearest, do not think for a moment that you are not capable of bringing Y/N the utmost joy. You make her happy, Jan. She longs to spend time with you.”
“And how would you know that?”
“Because she’s told me!”
“What? You’ve already spoken to her about this?!” Valek hisses, indignant. “I specifically asked you to stay out of this, Cassandra!”
“I haven’t told her about your desires,” she clarifies, though she doesn’t seem happy about it. “She’s told me. You know I spend more time with her than you do, and neither of you are happy about that!”
Valek huffs, moving away from her and pretending to peruse a bookshelf. He knows she’s going to mock him for asking.
“…What is it that she said?” he asks softly, and he doesn’t need to turn to know that Cassandra is radiating smug satisfaction as he gives in.
“She told me the other day that she wishes she was human,” she says softly, and Valek turns to face her with a guilty, pained expression. You regretted your decision to Turn?
“…She says she had something to offer you then, and that you had more of a reason to come around. She misses you, you dolt.”
Valek feels a warmth bloom in his chest, as was always the case where you were concerned, although this particular revelation brings him a far greater joy. He had stayed away from you, it was true, but only because he didn’t want to risk pushing you towards a relationship that you did not want. Hearing that you felt his distance was due to any deficiency of yours has him feeling terribly guilty.
“Am I finally starting to get the point through that thick skull of yours?” she asks, arching a brow at him. Valek looks at her exasperatedly.
“Why does it please you so, interfering in other peoples’ affairs, hmm?”
Cassandra shrugs, sliding off of the desk she had been perched on. “Having lost my own love, I find it greatly irritating when people try to deny their heart's desire when it lies right before them. Especially when it comes to my two favourite people in the world.”
She approaches Valek, laying a dainty hand on his chest, over his still heart. “You deserve to love her, Jan,” she says earnestly, staring into his pale eyes with her own. “And you’ve waited long enough for her.”
He sighs deeply, closing his eyes as though he could block out Cassandra’s logic. She was right, she was always right… but what if she was wrong about this?
“Alright, fine, you unholy terror,” he concedes. “I will try to figure out how to approach Y/N about this.”
Cassandra claps her hands excitedly, hopping up and down.
“Wonderful! I will ensure that the two of you are left alone tomorrow night.”
“No, I did not mean –”
“I am not going to let you dwell on this any longer, Jan,” Cassandra interrupts sternly. “I will take the others and return to Castello della Chiocciola for a few days. We need to check in on the Slayers anyway.”
“A few days?!” Valek repeats incredulously. “How long do you imagine this conversation will take?”
“Oh, I am sure the two of you will find something to do with your time together,” she murmurs suggestively, laughing delightedly as she flits out of Valek’s reach as he lunges for her.
“They will be back any minute, we should go and greet them!” she says brightly, dashing up the steps to the main floor. Valek follows at a slower pace, letting his anger at Cassandra coat his nerves.
They both didn’t like the idea of you leaving the castle without one of them accompanying you, but Cassandra had insisted that they have this talk. And so, you had been sent to feed with the others, under the watchful eye of two other Masters that they trusted. Valek is eager to see you safely returned home.
The small group returns, entering through the ornate front door, everyone retreating to their own lives in the castle, until only you remain, standing before him and Cassandra.
You are radiant.
The colour drained from your complexion seemed to have been returned to the rest of you tenfold; your hair, your eyes, your lips… you were a beautiful creature. He had been wrong in his initial reluctance to Turn you; he had thought you a creature of the Sun, but you glowed just as brightly as a child of the Moon. You were a glimmer of light in the darkness; his little star.
“Cassandra!” you exclaim happily, your voice turned richer and more musical with your transformation. You flit up the stairs to embrace the woman warmly, before turning your gaze over to him. “Valek,” you murmur, inclining your head respectfully to him, your eyes cast downwards. Your cheeks are flushed, likely due to your recent meal, but he greedily wants to attribute the blush to himself.
“Good evening, Y/N,” he croons, and he sees Cassandra rolling her eyes from behind you.
“Valek and I were just talking,” she chimes in immediately, and he would snap her neck if she didn’t mean so much to him. “I will be taking the other vampires back to Italy for a few days to check on things, so you and Valek will have the castle to yourselves!”
“Oh, I don’t –” you start to protest, but she grabs your hands with both of her own.
“Come on, you can help me pack! And I ordered you some more things to try on!” Cassandra says cheerily, monopolizing the situation just as she had done with him before your return. Valek isn’t entirely sure the woman isn’t a witch; her ability to swing things in her favour was astounding. The two of you disappear, leaving Valek in the grand foyer to figure out just what he was going to say to you tomorrow.
---
The next evening, Valek leaves you to yourself for a few hours to prepare himself. You had predictably thrown yourself into your research the moment that the others had left, combing through ancient texts in his collection. Your thirst for knowledge is unparalleled, and he has started to understand the Slayers’ reluctance in letting you out into the world; you would have discovered their deception on your own, he was sure.
Once he has finished staging everything just so – Cassandra would mock him if she knew, he was sure – he moves through the castle in the direction of the library, the place where you could almost always be found. He finds you at your table in the corner lost in your reading, stacks of books and scattered papers covering the surface.
“Y/N,” he says quietly with amusement when you have still not noticed his presence after a minute or two. Your head snaps up, and you blink up at him, smiling sheepishly.
“Oh, Valek! I’m sorry, I was a million miles away,” you say, your tone embarrassed. “What can I help you with?” you ask him with a warm smile.
“Would you join me upstairs, my dear?” he asks nervously, and you look up at him with an inquisitive expression. “You have been working too hard down here, and I know how you have missed the moon.”
“I get distracted,” you admit quietly with a guilty smile. “There’s just so much more to see now…” you trail off, referring to your enhanced eyesight. You shake your head to bring yourself out of your thoughts. “Yes, of course I can join you, Valek.”
He watches you mark the places in your notes and your book, trying to organize everything somewhat before you stand and move to join him. He offers you his arm and you take it, exiting the library with him.
“Is everything alright?” you ask hesitantly, looking up at him, and Cassandra’s words from the night before echo through his mind. Had he really left you feeling as though he only wanted to speak with you if he needed something?
“Of course, my dear,” he replies, despite his anxiety peaking. “I hope that I have not given you the impression that you are merely here as a scholar.”
“I don’t mind!” you tell him, smiling happily. “It feels so wonderful to be useful,” you say enthusiastically, sincerity ringing in every word. Valek hopes that he can channel your honesty in a moment, as you approach the door to the conservatory. While they couldn’t make use of it during the day, the glass room was spectacular for seeing the stars at night, and he knew that after the library, it was your favourite place in the castle.
“I am pleased to hear that you are enjoying your work, my dear,” he tells you, stopping you before you open the door to the conservatory. You turn and look up at him with a confused expression. “But I have brought you here to tell you something, Y/N.”
“What is it?” you ask when he cannot bring himself to speak, your voice concerned. “Is everything alright? Is that why everyone else left?”
He shushes you gently, placing a finger to your lips. He’s pleased that you have indeed retained some of your softness through your transformation.
“Everything is fine, little one,” he assures you. Despite your lack of experience, you were always so ready for a fight. He finds it charming.
“Tell me, what do you remember about the night that I Turned you?” he asks, trying to gage if you even remember your kiss in the first place. He feels you tense beneath his fingertips and you drop your gaze, unable to look at him, and he knows that you remember.
“Oh. This is about that. We don’t have to talk about it, Valek, I understand. Of course you wouldn’t…”
You stop your babbling as he throws open the doors of the conservatory, the sight within silencing you far more quickly than trying to talk to you possibly could.
Every surface in the room, from the chaise lounge to the piano is covered in bouquets of dark red roses, loose petals scattered across the marble floor. The moonlight streams through the windows and ceiling, bathing the room in a white glow, the stars clearly visible across the night sky.
You walk into the room slowly, timidly, as though you’re afraid of disturbing the scene, but Valek finds that you complete the picture perfectly. After a long moment that stretches on for ages, you turn back to look at him with an astonished expression. He slowly moves towards you, gliding across the floor silently and stopping just before you.
“Y/N, you are the most incredible woman I have ever known. You captivated my heart as a human, you sacrificed yourself for my own salvation, you have changed me irrevocably… I want you by my side for eternity. I will do everything in my power to keep you safe and happy, I will give you my whole self; I am already yours. I love you, Y/N. I love you so very much.”
As you stare at him in disbelief, your mouth slightly open, he finds himself freezing in place as though he’s turning to stone. More than six hundred years of this existence, and he still does not have patience for this moment that seems to be stretching endlessly… Please, say something.
Your mouth finally settles on letting out a wordless cry of surprise before you launch yourself into his arms, wrapping yourself around him with your newfound strength. Valek did not expect such a physical response in lieu of a confession from you, but manages to catch you with ease, pulling you closer against his chest, one arm around your waist, the other running across your shoulders. Your bury your face in the crook between his neck and shoulder, squeezing him tightly.
“I love you too, Valek!” you exclaim, your voice muffled against him, but he hears every word. You lean back to look him in the eye, and his heart soars as he takes in the fierce joy in your expression. “I’ve loved you for ages.”
He can’t help but chuckle at the hyperbole, but his laughter is cut off as you press your lips to his, kissing him so passionately he swears his body is heating up as it responds to your touch. He kisses you back, letting out a deep, primal growl that has you gasping and writhing in his arms.
Valek immediately heads for the master bedroom, carrying you in his arms, moving slowly at an almost-human pace as he savours every moment of this. Of course, it wasn’t like he had a bed, but the chaise lounge beneath his window would be just perfect to lay you down on as he worshipped you.
However, upon entering his bedroom, he is taken aback by the significant changes made to his room. He gently sets you back on your feet, noting the changes with a suspicious eye. A massive four poster bed with dark, luxurious sheets now lies in the middle of his room, rose petals lining the floor from the doorway to the foot of the bed and scattered across the inky bedspread.
“Valek, how presumptuous of you!” you tease him with a giggle, taking in the new décor.
“I had nothing to do with this!” he insists, though he can’t say he’s upset with the renovations.
“Oh,” you mutter to yourself, seeming to have come to some realization. “I’m going to kill Cassandra,” you growl venomously. Valek turns to you, catching you fussing with your skirts.
“You think this was Cassandra?” he asks you, confused by your animosity towards your friend. It did seem like something that Cassandra would do to him, but she hadn’t been threatening you with the same sort of thing… had she?
“I know it was her,” you moan, hiding your face in your hands. “It matches…”
“What matches?” he asks, and you jump, looking at him guiltily.
“She uh… bought some things for me when we were having a Girl’s Night, as a joke... Insisted on it, really. And now I know why she did, and why she told me to wear it tonight… just for fun, she said…”
Cassandra had purchased you clothing to match the sheets of his bed?
Oh.
“That meddlesome little leech!” you hiss, stomping your foot in your fury, but Valek finds that his anger has completely dissipated.
“Show me,” he orders you in a low, soft voice, and you turn to look at him with wide eyes.
“W-What?” you ask meekly, yelping when he darts next to you again, cradling your face in one of his large hands.
“Show me, little one…” he croons seductively, his eyes shining brightly in the moonlight. “I want to see them…”
You give him a nervous, jittery smile, and he lowers his head to yours once more, kissing you deeply in a way that has you relaxing and pressing yourself up against him. You surprise him by running your hands up his chest and pushing his long dark coat off of his shoulders. Wanting to help you feel more at ease, he helps you, letting the heavy fabric pool on the floor at his feet. Continuing to allow you to take the lead, he lets you guide him back to the bed and sit him down, standing between his legs with a nervous expression.
“Do not be frightened or embarrassed, my treasure,” he murmurs, cradling your head in both of his hands. “I have never wanted the way I want you.”
His words seem to give you confidence, and you take a step back before reaching behind you to undo the buttons on your dress, yanking it down to the floor in one smooth movement and revealing yourself to him.
You are wearing a black brocade bustier that presses your breasts up enticingly, emphasizing your cleavage. Lacy black underwear is visible beneath the matching garter belt, holding up thigh-high stockings. The lingerie is adorned with silk ribbons dyed a deep red, matching the rose petals scattered throughout the room.
Valek lets out another possessive growl, lunging at you like a predator, his momentum carrying you both across the room until you are pressed against the glass of the windows. You gasp with surprise as his hands roam your body, relishing the look and feel of you wrapped up like a darkly sensual gift; all for him.
“You are the most glorious being that has ever walked the earth,” he whispers against your skin as his lips and teeth and tongue roam your neck and shoulders, mapping them just as his hands do the same to your body. You writhe against him, tangling your hands in his raven hair and pressing him closer, further into you. He groans at the feeling of you tugging on his locks, urging him to touch you more.
“I am unworthy of your beauty, beloved, but I will worship at your feet if you would allow it,” he continues, dropping to his knees to run his mouth from one hip bone to the next, savouring the path his lips take. You shudder beneath his ministrations.
“I should be worshipping you,” you counter, moaning as he kneads your ass in his large hands. “My love… my Master…”
“You do not ever need to call me that, my treasure,” he murmurs, rising to his full height once more to look down at you sternly, though he cannot deny that thrill of arousal that thrums through him, hearing that title from your lips. How he wants to possess you, to own you…
“I know I don’t need to,” you reply with a coy smile. “But I very much want to.”
There is a loud ripping noise as he tears the bustier to shreds off of your body, desperate to get his hands on you.
“You have to tell Cassandra you ruined that,” you tell him off-handedly as you give his shirt the same treatment, your clawed hands roaming over his massive chest, smooth and hard as marble before you attack him with you lips as well, moaning at the taste of him.
“Very well; you can explain that you ruined the bed,” he replies, the dark tone of his voice promising its destruction. He scoops you up and flits over to the bed, tossing you onto it before pouncing on top of you. You squirm and buck beneath him, clearly enjoying the feeling of being pinned by his larger frame.
“There is no escaping me, beloved. There is no escaping this…” he hisses, teasing your body with light touches of his long fingers that have you arching against him with a lusty cry. He kisses his way down your body, between your breasts and down your stomach until his head rests between your trembling thighs.
“Do you know how I savoured tasting these quivering thighs?” he purrs, pinning your legs and hips in place as he looks up your body at you. “That was my form of bloodlust, Y/N. After biting you here –” he pauses to sink his fangs into you exactly where he had when he Turned you, making you scream with ecstasy.
“– And here –” he repeats this gesture on your other thigh, and he can smell your arousal growing between your legs as you thrash beneath him. Between vampires, a bite did nothing more than provide the victim with a pleasant, painful ache, and you certainly seem receptive to it.
“– I could not stop myself from sinking my teeth into you again and again, everywhere I could reach. You are still mouthwatering, even now…” he purrs, as you shudder and moan wantonly.
“Do it again!” you cry out desperately, begging him for more of the painful pleasure, and he is more than happy to oblige, sliding up your body once more and pinning you in place.
“Yes, Valek!” you cry, throwing your head back as he claims your neck with his lips and teeth. “Please, take me! I want to be yours in every way,” you moan throatily, and he can no longer resist, tearing your remaining lingerie to shreds like a feral animal, leaving scratches across your pale skin that only seem to spur you on further. Dark and depraved; you were perfect for him.
Valek moves to the side of the bed to discard his remaining clothing, but doesn’t get very far before you reach over, ripping his clothing off of his body. He looks back at you, and you merely give him a smug smile in return.
“Just being fair,” you chirp up at him as you lounge against the sheets, looking like a delicious perversion of an angel. He gives you an indulgent smile, allowing you this one victory; you can cling to it when he’s claiming you again and again until even your immortal body is desperate for rest.
He grabs one of your bare ankles, tugging you so that your lower legs are dangling off the sides of the bed to either side of his own. Leaning down, he runs a clawed hand possessively up your body to your neck, giving it a firm squeeze.
“You wish to belong to me, little star?” he purrs, watching your eyes glaze over with desire as you nod frantically with an erotic groan, unable to speak. He grabs the back of your thighs, one in each of his large hands, lifting them up to wrap around his waist and making you lift yourself off of the bed until only your shoulders and head are on the mattress.
He looks down, seeing his hard, aching member so close to your entrance, looking past where his hands grip your hips and down your body to your delirious expression. He could he be so eager to defile something so innocent?
But defile you he would.
He lines his cock up with your dripping, wet entrance, and you let out a needy wail when he doesn’t thrust in after a moment.
“Please, Valek, take me!” you beg, and there has never been a more beautiful sound. “Make me yours, my love!”
He thrusts forward, fully sheathing himself inside of you in one smooth motion, coming to lean over you as you both moan in unison. Your mouth is in a constant ‘O’ of wordless pleasure, the occasional whine emitting from your lips as your eyes roll back into your head as he fucks you, making you his own in yet another way. You feel divine, wrapped so tightly around his cock, and your warmth… he finally understands the insatiability of some of his kind. This feeling… he never wants it to stop.
“Please, I need you closer!” you moan desperately, and he obliges, reluctantly removing himself from you before pouncing on you on top of the bed. But before he can slide himself inside you once more, you have flipped the two of you over, your legs to either side of his hips, and before he can do anything about it, you’ve dropped down onto him once more, enveloping his cock in your tight, sweet cunt and rolling your hips against his in a way that has him cursing in Czech, words that he wasn’t aware he even remembered.
“You are my undoing, Y/N,” he groans, his eyes rolling back in ecstasy as you ride him passionately, fucking yourself hard and deep on his cock. “My siren. I will bring you pleasure everlasting, for all of my days.”
As if to prove his point, he grabs one of your wrists from where you’ve placed your hands on his chest to steady yourself, bringing it to his lips and sinking his fangs into your arm, making you keen in pleasure.
“I will have you always, little star,” he coos, even as he bites you again, feeling you tighten and shudder around him. “You are mine for always.”
“Always, Valek,” you moan, reaching down with your free hand to rub yourself just above where his cock was thrusting in and out of your cunt. He replaces your fingers with his own, searching for spots that have you nearly sobbing with pleasure and need, bucking up against him. He will learn to play you like a fine-tuned instrument; you have eternity after all.
“Fuck love, I’m getting close!” you wail, your bouncing on his cock taking on a stuttering, uneven pace. He sits up, the clenching of his abdominal muscles causing his balls to tighten with impending release, and bites your neck, keeping his fangs buried inside of you as he keeps his cock buried inside you as well, hands holding your hips as you climax hard, tightening around him as he fills you with his release.
You are seeing stars, but Valek only sees you; he’ll see only you for eternity.
---
It's cheesy, and I don't care. I am a Cassandra here - not involved romantically, but more than willing to meddle when it comes to these two! Hope you all enjoyed!
Valek TIG. Reader is Jack’s daughter (18+). The church put the cross at a church at a catholic boarding school for slayer’s children in training to be future slayers, trying to keep everything that needed guarding together. But in reality Valek is able to get the cross and a definite reason to keep Jack engaged in the fight. What would be better than turning Jack’s only family against him. Enemies to lovers.
I'm SO excited to finally get to this one! I hope that it's worth the wait - I'm anticipating it to be 4 chapters in total, and this is definitely going to be the shortest one.
TW: Indoctrination by the Catholic Church, implied death, blood (very minor... for now)
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Heirloom - Chapter 1
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Deep in the centre of Tuscany sits the medieval town of Monteriggioni, perched on a hill and surrounded by high stone walls. A centuries-old fortress, it has long been a place of protection for its allies, and can become fully self-sufficient during times of trouble.
It has been operating as a self-sufficient town for decades now, its gardens plentiful.
While official records claim a population of ten thousand, the number of people living in this little city fluctuates like the ebb and flow of a powerful tide.
The comings and goings of its occupants are a well-kept secret, known only to those who are allowed access to the city in the first place.
Within the walls of Monteriggioni, the next generations of Slayers receive their training.
To the public, this education is given a generic name of importance, one that oozes prestige but does not invite questions: The International School of Siena.
To anyone that looked over the curtain wall of the battlements, they would observe a quiet town with more than its fair share of churches, a large fortress at its centre. In practice, each church was a classroom, the fortress a dormitory to thousands of children and young adults, all slayers-in-training.
Some were orphans taken under the protection of the Catholic Church, others were the children of slayers, descendants of the Crusaders.
All were soldiers. Or at least, they would be before they were allowed beyond the city’s walls.
Those responsible for the Scholars of Monteriggioni (as they were known) held various roles: providers, priests, parents. But above all, they were protectors and educators.
And when you had completed your scholarship and were done being protected and educated by the Elders, you waited.
You, Y/N Crow, have been waiting for years.
You aren’t exactly thrilled about it.
You had spent the first thirteen years of your life raised by a single mother that had done everything possible to keep you from the dark world your father operated within. You hadn’t even met the man until a few months after the fire that had destroyed your life and taken your mother from you.
The Catholic Church had claimed you as a ward with the written permission of your biological father immediately upon your mother’s death, a strange and unwelcome presence as you had not been raised with any sort of faith in your life. Having nothing left in America, you had been relocated to the tiny town of Monteriggioni and introduced to the terrifying reality of vampires that walked among us in the night.
You hadn’t believed the stories until you were forced to witness the execution of a goon with your own eyes, the memory of their screech and charred body burned into your mind forever afterward. You had spent the next ten years being moulded into a warrior, a weapon wielded by the Church to exterminate the unholy scourge of the earth that was the growing vampire population.
And you’ve spent more than two years now waiting to be recruited so you could leave this place.
How was it that you, daughter of the infamous Jack Crow, Master Vampire Hunter, hadn’t been added to a team yet? And even if the nepotism hadn’t helped you, you had excelled in your training. So what could possibly be the reason you were still stuck in Monteriggioni?
You suspect that your so-called father has something to do with it.
You really hate the man.
Where did he get off, taking you from your home and everything you’d known and forcing you to follow in his footsteps and then not even letting you out into the world to prove yourself? The best years of your life, the time when you were supposed to find yourself, had been unceremoniously taken from you, and for what?
With nothing better to do, you had taken to exploring the catacombs beneath the city as of late, trying to map out the complex system of tunnels you had grown up on top of. You would hardly say that you were even an amateur cartographer at this point, but your ever-expanding maps made sense to you, at least.
Your focus over the last few months has been the western quadrant of the tunnels. Your exploration of the other areas have all yielded at least one secret passageway or hidden room, but you haven’t found any in this section yet.
These dark, underground halls had long stopped being scary to you, but today something feels different, like there is a chill in the air. While it had been early evening when you’d descended into the tunnels, night was likely only falling now, and you knew it took a few hours after sundown for the night’s chill to seep this far into the ground. You’d been dealing with an inexplicable draft as well, which shouldn’t have been possible underground, but there it was, playing with the flame of your torch again and threatening to extinguish it.
Ordinarily, you could fiddle with the fuel and the airway to create a smaller, more stable flame – with all of your training, you really only required the tiniest fraction of light to see in the dark – but the symbols marking secret entrances were small, and you needed as much light as you could get if you didn’t want to risk missing them entirely.
You were right to do so, coming across two small symbols shortly after reigniting the torch for the fourth time today: one in the shape of a crescent moon, the other an empty cup. You had seen the latter symbol before, here in the catacombs; it indicated the need for a blood sacrifice for the passageway to open. The moon, however, you had only seen in ancient texts, usually used to symbolize change or transformation due to the multiple phases of the lunar cycle. It probably had something to do with what was housed inside, which meant that it wasn’t one of the disused passageways that led out of the city.
Eagerly, the curiosity burning within you, you set your torch on a nearby sconce before unsheathing your dagger, slicing your thumb with the ease of long practice and pressing it against the symbol of the cup. When you remove your thumb from the wall, the symbol looks like a goblet of wine, and a deep rumbling can be heard before the wall slides open a crack.
Bracing yourself against the opposing wall, you press on the newly revealed door with your leg, pushing it open, the sound of stone on stone grating but not unpleasant. Stepping inside the room with your torch in hand once more, your breath is taken away by what’s inside.
Up on the old stone altar, dozens of candles guiding your gaze upwards like the bannisters of a divine staircase, is a large black crucifix, adorned with gold and rubies. A real, sacred relic, right before your very eyes, glittering magnificently in the torchlight…
Relics like these were rumoured to have been stashed all over the city over the centuries. You’d come across some of the altars where they had been kept during your explorations, but they had always been empty, the precious artifacts moved somewhere else or destroyed.
Did anyone even know that this was here? Should you know that this was here? What were you supposed to do know that you had come across it? You weren’t exactly supposed to be poking around down here; you hope you don’t get in trouble.
“Crow…” an unfamiliar voice, husky yet soft, purrs from behind you. You turn guiltily, hoping that a priest or cardinal isn’t about to condemn you for being down here.
But no one is there, waiting to pass judgement on you.
Something about that whisper of your name has your hair standing on end, and you suddenly feel quite claustrophobic in this stone room beneath the city. Time to get out of here.
Taking one last look at the cross, you take your torch in hand and return it to the sconce in the main hallway, moving to reseal the altar room. Your eyes skim past the symbols that marked this place, before doing a double take.
The cup is no longer red with your blood; instead, a dark stain fills the chalice, the way rock did when it got wet. A shudder runs through you, and you think that the spike in adrenaline will at least make it a bit easier for you to push the think wall of stone back into place.
“What is your name, child?” a new voice, this one equally as unfamiliar as the first, asks from the shadows. You shriek, diving for the torch and brandishing it against the darkness, looking for the speaker.
“Where are you?” you demand, fighting to keep your voice from wavering. “Show yourself!”
“Your name…” the voice demands again, high and clear like the ringing of a tuning fork.
“Y/N!” you cry out, wanting the voice to stop more than anything. “Y/N Crow.”
“Did I not tell you, Cassandra?” comes the deeper voice, clearly a male. “Her blood does tempt me so, just the same as her father’s. The blood of a Crusader…” the voice hisses, and you come to a horrifying realization.
Your blood sacrifice hadn’t been absorbed by the stone.
It had been licked clean.
Vampires were underneath Monteriggioni.
Sure enough, two figures slowly emerge from the shadows, staying just on the edge of where the light of the torch fades. From what you can see, both are dressed head to toe in black, only their faces and hands visible, bare and ghostly white. The female is short, shorter than you, with long auburn hair that falls in waves like spilt blood, while the male towers over you even from this distance, his hair dark and brushing his shoulders.
You don’t reply, you can’t reply. You can’t even breathe.
You just turn and run.
You think you hear the faint whispers of a conversation between them, but it’s hard to be certain as your heart pounding in your ears drowns out every sound but the thudding of your feet on stone.
You desperately try to picture your map in your head, but this was the area of the catacombs that you were least familiar with. Left… you need to go left.
There’s a whoosh of air, and your torch flickers again, nearly going out, and then the female vampire stands in front of you with a gentle smile.
Oh. They had been the source of the breeze down here.
Placidly, you wonder how long they had been down here for, how long they had been following you for.
You don’t give it too much thought; you’ll be dead in a moment anyway. You’re glad that the dormitories didn’t have any entrances to the catacombs; that would give everyone else a chance, at least.
“Come with me,” Cassandra’s piercing voice demands, extending a clawed hand towards you.
You take an immediate step back; it’s more of a reflex than anything. She gives you an encouraging smile that doesn’t meet her wide, pale eyes.
“I’m not going to hurt you, little one,” she insists, despite being several inches shorter than you are. “Now come with me,” she purrs, tilting her head to the side. Her eyes seem to glow, and you find yourself moving towards her, feeling like you were floating. She was mesmerizing you.
Knowing that her powers of hypnosis are at work does nothing to break you from their spell, and as you find yourself walking into her open arms, Cassandra laughs delightedly, wrapping you in a cruel imitation of a hug.
One of the things that disappoints me the most about John Carpenter's Vampires is that there are quite a few cool ideas and concepts that are just... not built on at all, in favour of more screentime for Katrina's abuse or James Woods's unpleasant quips. I really want to build up this world, and that starts with giving at least SOME of the other Master/Mistress vampires a name, starting with Cassandra!
Thank you all for being patient with me as I try to get things back on track! I'm going to end up stretching this out for another chapter (I *think* just 1 more) before the epilogue. Enjoy!
TW: Mild objectification and catcalling, hostage-taking, threats, blood, violence
Previous Parts:
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3
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Reader’s POV:
You rifle through the closet and dresser up in the tower, looking for something to serve your purposes. You had already covered one of the two windows, casting a third of the room in shadow – it would gradually take over more of the room as the sun moved across the sky. This would be a good neutral ground for Jack and Valek to talk, if you were able to convince the man to parlay in the first place.
You’re hoping to find something to wear that will help you show that you haven’t been bitten. You could always walk into the sun, but you knew that thralls or vampires still Turning could still do that without bursting into flames. Anything that you could do to make this work, you would. You didn’t want any blood spilled on your account if you could help it, and both sides were going to be looking for any reason to attack.
At the back of one of the drawers of the dresser, you find a short white slip dress. Normally you wouldn’t wear something so revealing, but it should be enough to convince the Slayers that you were still fully human when you could prove there were no bite marks on your body. You slip it on, the silk barely brushing the tops of your thighs, the neckline low but not too scandalous.
You really hope this isn’t a stupid idea.
Making sure that no light has infiltrated the shadowy part of the room, you return to the window to see that the Slayers are at most only five minutes away from the castle, the convoy moving cautiously. You throw on a longer robe, leaving it open and untied before fleeing down the steps.
“Valek, I’ve prepared the tower; it should be good for the – what?” you ask, ending your update mid-sentence as you see Valek staring at you with a strange expression. You look down, following his gaze; you suppose it was a bit revealing, especially since you’d been covered head to toe during your time here. Suddenly feeling hot all over, you cover yourself with the robe, tying it tightly closed around your waist.
“Sorry, I just figured it might help convince them that you haven’t bitten me, if I needed to,” you explain, not looking at him in your embarrassment.
“…I see. A very astute idea,” he replies, his voice slightly raspier than its usual smooth tone. He clears his throat. “Now come, we must be waiting for them when they arrive.”
Valek glides ahead of you, leading you towards the front of the castle where you approach the thick iron door. He turns to look down at you, and you approach him without hesitation.
“I will be keeping you before me at all times, to prevent them from attacking,” Valek informs you, and you nod stiffly, thinking of the children.
“Make no mistake, Y/N; I do not plan on allowing any harm to befall you,” he murmurs reassuringly, a degree of warmth in his normally icy eyes. “It is merely important that they believe that you are more valuable to them than you are to me.”
What did that mean? you wonder to yourself. You’d convinced yourself that Valek had finally come to terms with the fact that you were, in fact, just a normal human and not a secret weapon of the Slayers. Perhaps he was referring to how little the Slayers seemed to care for you; it had taken them two weeks to come, after all, and you were quite close by; you could faintly see Monteriggioni in the distance from your tower window. Even Valek, your supposed sworn enemy, had shown you more respect and consideration for you during your time together than most of the citizens of Monteriggioni had throughout your years there.
“I understand. I trust you, Valek, and I will do what I can,” you tell him softly, looking up at him with determination.
How was it that two weeks of captivity by the creatures you were meant to hate had given you a stronger sense of loyalty than a decade of time with people meant to be your family, or close to it? You try not to dwell on it; you need to focus and play your part well. He nods towards you, and two of the thralls in the castle begin raising the door for you to greet the ‘guests’.
You slowly move towards the centre of the castle’s wide front door, Valek pressed up behind you, using your body as a barrier against the Slayers as they approach. Instead of feeling on edge, you feel oddly secure with him at your back.
Your father leads the group of armed men, as you had expected given his rank among the Slayers. You can’t be certain given that he’s wearing his tinted sunglasses – a tactic he claimed prevented mesmerization from working on him – but you think that he’s looking directly past you to Valek.
“Hello, Jack Crow,” Valek greets his enemy in a sibilant hiss that sends shivers down your spine. This was not the darkly seductive tone you had grown used to during your time with him; it was a primal, threatening sound intended to induce fear.
“Let the kid go, Valek, you pasty prick!” Jack shouts, leveling his crossbow at the two of you. You’re beginning to wonder if he even knows your name.
“Why don’t you come inside, and we can parlay respectfully?” Valek counters with a purr. “Just the three of us…”
“I don’t know what kind of moron you take me for, if you think I’d walk right into a trap like that.”
“I’ve set up the room in the tower as neutral ground,” you say with confidence, pitching your voice to carry across the distance between you. “You can enter through the window and stay on the side with sunlight, and Valek can remain in the shadows. He has said they will not move on Monteriggioni if you are able to reach an accord.”
There is a rumbling among the Slayers, though you are too far away to make out their words. You know that quite a few of them have children in the city, and hope that they will help persuade Jack to take the step towards peace.
“Where’s the Cross?” Jack demands, unfazed.
“Now now, we will discuss everything in the tower, or not at all. But it is time to decide, Crusader.”
“Who are you to give me ultimatums, you blood-sucking fucker?” Jack growls, and Valek laughs darkly behind you, the sound menacing. Wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you in even closer, he brushes your hair to the side, bending to rest his chin on your shoulder, his intentions clear. You squeeze your eyes shut, whimpering in fear. He had said he wouldn’t hurt you, and you believe him, but your reaction is completely out of your control. He was so cold…
“Come inside, Jack Crow, or watch me turn your daughter into that which you hate most.”
--- Valek’s POV ---
“You don’t want to see her become one of us, do you Jack?” Valek asks, tilting your head to the side to expose your neck further.
He can nearly see the blood moving through your veins, and has to refocus; he has had centuries to develop the self-control needed to contain his bloodlust, but having you so close and so tempting was testing him. You look up at him, hurt and panic in your eyes, and he wishes he could convey his true intentions towards you, reassure you that he wouldn’t put you in danger.
“You don’t want her to become like your dearly departed parents, now do you?” he presses, goading the man into action. Jack Crow was temperamental, and could be easily manipulated through his emotions. As if to prove his point, Crow snarls, baring his teeth, looking more like a vampire than he would likely be comfortable with.
“What’s to say you haven’t already Turned her, huh?” Jack spits, glaring at you with suspicion. Valek forces himself to release you, shoving you towards the bane of his existence. If it was any closer to dusk, he thinks he would risk the sun, taking you and running far, far away from here.
Instead, he watches you step out of the shadows, the sunlight making your hair sparkle and shine.
“He hasn’t bitten me, dad,” he hears you say, and he can hear how hard it is for you to force that title from your lips. Jack Crow was no father to you. “Satisfied?”
“Hardly,” the man snorts, and Valek seethes. Daughter or no, you were both a woman and a soldier of his army, and he should be treating you with far more respect in either case. “Just because you’re not ashes yet doesn’t mean you haven’t been bitten.”
“Fine,” you hiss through your teeth, your hands going to the belt of the robe. Valek fights back the possessive growl he feels beginning in his throat; he doesn’t want your body exposed to the gazes of such unworthy swine. Still, he bites his tongue firmly as you undo the robe and slip it off your shoulders, letting it pool to the ground.
Standing in the sunlight all in white, you are reminiscent of the angels painted on the ceilings of the churches he had used to frequent as a human, although his thoughts surrounding you are far less holy. His fingers long to touch your skin and worship you as you should be. You raise your arms slightly, turning slowly until you’re satisfied that you’ve proven your point.
“You need someone to go take a closer look, Jack?” one of the other Slayers jeers, and the men howl and whistle at you while you snatch the robe off the ground, throwing it on with a red face. Valek forces himself to calmly contemplate how he will eviscerate every single one of them the moment he gets his opportunity to keep his composure.
“Can it, Williams, or I’ll rip you a new asshole,” snarls Jack in response, and Valek is grateful to Jack Crow for the first and only time in his life. “I don’t know why you’ve got my daughter dressed like a cheap whore, Valek, but we’ll talk about it inside. She’ll come with me, through the window,” he demands, getting Valek’s hackles up.
“I think not,” he hisses, pleased he can justify himself in denying Jack, especially where you were concerned. “My hostage does not leave my sight until after we come to an agreement. Come here, little one,” he coos, and as you turn to face him he sees the relief in your expression. “Remember what you need to do to keep the children safe…” he adds for good measure. It was important to keep the ruse up.
You rejoin him in the shade with mock-hesitance, leaning into your role, and Valek takes one of your wrists in his hand, feeling your pulse quicken beneath his fingertips.
“Best hurry, Jack – we are only getting closer to nightfall.”
With that, he quickly retreats into the castle, tugging you along with him and flitting up to the tower with you. He releases you once you’re at the top of the stairs, resisting the urge to stroke your cheek comfortingly as he takes in the slight trembling of your small frame.
“Are you alright, Y/N?” he asks instead, watching you struggle to maintain your composure as you blink away the tears in your eyes. “You did very well – I apologize if I frightened you.”
“No, I… I knew I could trust you,” you say quietly, not meeting his eyes. Valek is pleased that you aren’t upset on his account, but he is seeing red at your humiliation at the hands of those who were meant to be your allies. “What do I do now?”
“Now we must convince him to let us keep the Cross.”
“What makes it important?” you ask as you both walk into the room that had become your own over the past two weeks. You remain on the side of the room covered in shadows, and Valek can’t help but consider it a show of your loyalties to him. Nonetheless, he hesitates to respond.
“It’s going to be hard for me to be useful here if I have no idea what’s going on, Valek,” you point out flatly, turning to him with your hands on your hips. Your imperiousness was oddly charming, and you did have a point, but he didn’t have the time to explain all of the relevant history to you. Perhaps he could turn the situation to his advantage…
“We are hoping to use it to develop a cure for vampirism,” he tells you bluntly, watching your eyes widen.
“What?! You can do that?!” you gasp, seeming awed. “But why would –”
Your question is interrupted by a loud ‘Clang!’ of metal on stone just outside the window. You cautiously walk over to it, despite his protests, but he knows he can’t stop you once you cross over into the sunlight. Carefully, you peer out the window and look down.
“They shot a grappling hook up; he’s scaling the tower.”
“I would appreciate it if you moved away from the window, little one,” Valek says quietly, trying to persuade you to come back to his side. Sure enough, you look back over your shoulder at him, something about his expression apparently conveying more than he would like to let on; you return to him immediately, stopping within an arm’s reach. He pulls one of the armchairs over, indicating for you to sit, and you obey without question, curling up onto the chair like a cat. Valek comes to stand behind you, both of you staring across the room at the window, the sunlight streaming in.
After a few minutes, Jack Crow appears at the window. He throws one leg over the ledge, perching himself on the windowsill to presumably be able to make a quick getaway.
“Alright, I’m here. Let the kid go and we can talk,” he snaps. Valek does not appreciate how his nemesis speaks about you as though you were an object rather than a person – and someone of his own blood, besides – and is again grateful he is able to deny Jack’s request.
“I believe I made it clear that she will be kept with me throughout our… discussion. An insurance policy,” he hisses, laying a hand on your shoulder in a way that makes you jump in surprise, but you don’t recoil. If anything, Valek believes you may imperceptibly lean into his touch. Jack glares at his hand’s placement on your shoulder, and he can almost feel the heat of his gaze.
“You hate me so, don’t you?” he croons, goading him as he leans over the back of your chair, his body looming over yours. “But you made me, Crusader. You hate what you’ve made, you fear it. Because it is superior to you.”
Jack’s face twists into a sneer, and he swings his other leg into the room, moving fully into the tower.
“Made you? What does that mean?” you ask, looking up and over your shoulder at him before turning to your father, seeking an explanation.
Perfect.
“What is he talking about?” you ask your father, clear annoyance in your tone. You really disliked information being withheld from you.
Valek is practically glowing with a sense of smug superiority, arching an eyebrow at Jack’s lack of response.
“Oh, she doesn’t know?” he asks with mock surprise. “You indoctrinate children, train them to become soldiers, but tell them nothing about how those they will be mindlessly slaughtering came to be?”
Jack glares daggers at him and clenches his jaw, but continues to be silent. Valek looks down at you – careful to keep an eye on the Slayer in his peripheral vision – and answers your question.
“Vampires were made by the Catholic Church, Y/N,” he tells you bluntly, watching your incredulous expression take over your face. “I was made into this because of them.”
“Not intentionally,” Jack snarls, and you whip your head around to look at him.
“You know?” you ask him angrily. “You know that the Scholars are lying to the kids?”
“The Church fucked up and he ended up becoming the first bloodsucker. That doesn’t make him or all the others he’s Turned worthy of staying alive. We wipe them out, and no one else gets ruined like that undead fuck.” He snarls at you. “And they’re trying to become more powerful, Y/N. Now where is the damn Cross?”
“Your kind has no use for the Berziers Cross, Crusader,” Valek hisses.
“We’re not using it, we’re keeping it from you so you can’t walk your pale ass out in the sun!”
“They could have spent centuries working on a cure with the Cross, Y/N, as we yearn to do. They have not tried. It is far easier for them to have an enemy to further their agenda. They do not seek to rid the world of vampires, by exterminating us or trying to cure us.”
“He’s full of shit, kid.” Jack insists. “They want to use the Cross to walk in the sun. They’ll kill us all; they’re murderous assholes.”
“I do not relish in the loss of human life my kind requires to stay alive,” Valek refutes. “You know that I was once a man of God myself. I merely want to right what the Church has wronged and redeem my immortal soul. The Cross will allow me to do so.”
“What’s to stop us from getting rid of you the fun way instead, Valek?” Jack snaps, a cruel smile on his face. “Salvation’s too good for scum like you.”
“Dusk is coming, Crusader, and you cannot destroy us all. Not to mention,” he trails off to wrap a hand around your throat, his fingers curling up around your chin, “I’ve got at least one victim guaranteed, should I wish it.”
You let out a terrified screech, your heart racing like a hummingbird’s, and Valek feels a momentary thrill of desire, stronger than any bloodlust he’s ever experienced.
“She’s been a wonderful asset to us during her stay here, haven’t you, my dear?” he purrs in your ear, letting himself get carried away for the moment; it would help with the set up.
“No, I didn’t tell him anything, I swear! I don’t even know anything, Jack, you know I don’t!” you exclaim, tears spilling down your cheeks. Valek isn’t sure how much of this is an act and how much is your body’s genuine response to his touch, but either way it seems to be doing the job.
“Where do you think we found her, Jack? Skulking around underground in the catacombs; I’ll happily use every drop of her blood to open every door into Monteriggioni if I have to. Or, you let me keep the Cross and look for a cure, and you can keep the girl. Hide your precious Slayers away if you must; you know we can’t complete the ritual without one to sacrifice.”
He smiles, sinister and fierce, his nails lightly raking across your delicate skin and making you shudder. “Choose, Crusader: save your Slayers and your daughter, or take the Cross back?”
Jack glowers at him, and he can see through his tinted sunglasses the hate in his eyes. But Valek isn’t concerned; it was against the Slayers’ Code to leave a human behind, especially another Slayer. If he returned with the Cross – not that Valek was going to let him take it anyway, but hypothetically – and left you up here, his team would be furious and he would be excommunicated from the Vatican and, by extension, the Slayers.
Not a bad option, really, but Valek was far more determined to keep the Cross. You could come back to him on your own; the Cross couldn’t. And, he knew that you would come back, given the chance; Jack’s admission that the Slayers’ methods and beliefs were less-than-noble would not stand with you.
After a long moment of strained silence, Jack nods once, his jaw clenched.
“Fine. Keep your fucking antique – we’ll get it back anyway. Now let her go.”
Valek releases you, and you turn your head to look up at him, your eyes piercing as you try to gauge his intentions. His keeps his face impassive, not wanting to ruin the performance until your safety – as well as that of the Cross and his people – had been assured. Jack Crow was an unpredictable creature, and Valek would not be letting his guard down.
“Your freedom, as agreed upon, Y/N. You may return home with your… father.”
You give him a curt nod before turning back to Jack and getting out of your chair, approaching the sunny side of the room. Valek thinks he sees a flash of something strange cross the other man’s features, and feels a sudden sense of foreboding.
You step into the sunlight before he can stop you, crossing over with a pleased smile on your face.
“Thank you, dad,” you murmur sweetly, lifting your arms to embrace him. Jack awkwardly makes to return the gesture, pulling you in, and that’s when Valek sees the knife glinting in the sunlight in Jack’s hand.
“NO!” Valek snarls, but it’s too late, and he’s helpless to do anything but watch as your father plunges the dagger into your back. You let out a choked gasp of surprise, and Jack tugs you further into the sunlight, away from Valek, before releasing you, letting you slump to the ground carelessly.
“No hostage, no deal,” he hisses venomously, his focus solely on Valek. “Montoya! Get ready to light ‘er up!” he yells out the window, not even giving you a second glance as he throws himself over the ledge to rappel down the tower.
Valek doesn’t even notice him leave, his sole focus on you just a few feet out of his reach, the sunlight making your blood glow like rubies.
I'm having so much fun with this story! I'm still anticipating only one more chapter, and then an epilogue, but I definitely want to build out a Valek-verse at some point so I hope you all enjoy what I've got so far!
[No trigger warnings for this chapter!]
Previous Parts:
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2
---
Reader’s POV:
Valek had returned to the tower to speak with you late in the afternoon the next day, though you had awoken late in the morning (having fallen asleep just before dawn) to a large bowl of fruit on the vanity. You had initially been hesitant to eat at first, before again reminding yourself that no one here needed to poison you if they wanted you dead.
The knock at the door startles you, before your brain becomes fuzzy and you feel yourself moving on autopilot, covering the windows by suspending the blankets from the heavy iron curtain rods, keeping them pinned in place by the vanity and one of the armchairs. The castle’s interior had clearly been renovated to be somewhat modernized; you had been grateful for the luxuries of the contemporary bathroom in particular. You try not to dwell on what may have happened to the building’s residents.
Looking around as best you can in the darkness, you don’t see any pinpricks of light, and the sense of urgency forced on you by the mesmerization fades away.
“Come in?” you say hesitantly, unsure if you were meant to.
The door opens, and in the time it takes to swing shut again two candelabras are fully lit and placed on either side of the room, bathing it in a soft orange glow. Valek sits in the armchair you had pushed back against the window, lounging in it like a royal would upon their throne. You stand awkwardly in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do or say.
“I think there is a light switch in here,” you offer weakly. The shadows cast by the candlelight make the dark parts of him seem to disappear at times, and it unnerves you.
“I prefer candlelight. It has been over a hundred years since electricity became commonplace, but I still find the false sunlight to be rather unpleasant.”
Your lips twitch in amusement at his description of “false sunlight,” and you think of the daylight bulbs that some buildings used. Unlike the warmth of true sunlight, they always seemed to bright and clinical, and often gave you a headache.
“Fair enough,” you reply, shrugging nonchalantly. You’re still unsure of what to do with yourself, and Valek doesn’t seem inclined to speak. “Thank you for the fruit, by the way. It was very… considerate of you,” you say graciously. He inclines his head.
“Cassandra suggested that we find food for you. I often forget how often humans need to feed.”
“Well, er… thank her for me then, if you would,” you stammer, and again he merely looks at you in silence. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Valek decides to inform you of the reason for his visit.
“I would like to ask you more about Jack Crow,” he tells you, his tone leaving no room for debate. “Why don’t you sit?”
You take a seat on the edge of the bed closest to him, crossing your legs underneath you. The mattress’s added height makes you a lot closer to eye-level with him.
“The way you speak about him, I assume that you’ve met my father?” you ask, hoping that you won’t get in trouble for the question.
“We have had several… encounters in recent years,” he replies vaguely, but you’re rather grateful for the lack of detail. You’re sure that whatever had happened between them had been violent and bloody.
“You’ve probably spent more time with him than I have,” you tell him, and again the twinge of abandonment that you felt whenever thinking of Jack Crow hits you, making you bite your tongue. “But I will do what I can.”
“When did you see him last?” he begins, starting with the easiest question, and you think back, trying to remember.
“I think it was around two years ago; it was right after I ‘graduated’ from Slayer training. He had come to Monteriggioni to recruit new members for his team, I think. I don’t know, I think he may have said five words to me while he was there.”
“And before that?”
“Probably five years ago; it was much of the same.”
“Why does your father not speak to you?” he asks, seeming frustrated.
“I wish I knew,” you remark bitterly, moving your legs to bring them up to your chest, arms wrapped around your knees. You truly think you would have been better off being on the streets as a teenager. “You’ve met him – did he seem like the paternal type to you?” you ask, raising your eyebrows at him with a bitter smile. Valek looks back at you with an unfathomable expression before moving on.
“And what of your mother?”
The topic makes you swallow thickly, and your hands clench into fists, your nails digging into the tender flesh of your palms.
“She died when I was a girl,” you inform him quietly, looking down at the floor. “If she were still alive, I don’t think I would be here, or know any of this.”
“You miss her.” It isn’t a question.
“Of course. She was my best friend.”
“And now?”
You look back up at him, tilting your head. “And now what?”
“Who has taken on that role in your life?”
You shrug. “No one, really. I spend most of my time taking care of the younger children who can’t start their training yet.”
Why was he so concerned with your personal life? Hadn’t you made it clear that you didn’t know anything of value? Unless…
“Oh,” you say with a frown. “Are you trying to figure out if there will be anyone wanting to avenge my death before you kill me?”
“No.”
“Because I’m pretty sure it won’t upset anyone in particular.”
“Miss Crow–”
“No more than any other Slayer being taken out by a vampire, anyway.”
“Y/N!” Valek hisses, snarling your name, and you fall silent, fear flowing through you at the sound. He takes a deep breath before continuing his interrogation.
“What aren’t you telling me?” he asks, frustrated.
“I don’t know what you mean,” you tell him honestly.
“Why would the Scholars of Monteriggioni take a child of impressive Slayer lineage and put her through the training only to not make use of her for the purposes she was raised for?”
“I don’t know. I’ve tried to figure that out myself. Maybe Jack thought that this would happen, that someone would take me to use me against him.”
“There must be more to it than that,” Valek muses, and you’re not sure how to answer, or if he even wants you to.
“If there is, I don’t know anything about it,” you mutter, mostly to yourself.
“Not yet,” Valek replies meaningfully, looking at you thoroughly, as if the answers could be found on your skin. “But we will find out. Until we do, you need not fear. We have no reason to kill you unless we are certain that you have nothing to offer.”
He rises from his chair, making for the door without another word.
“So what, I’m just stuck here?!” you exclaim, frustration and panic evident in your voice.
“I will have food brought to you regularly,” he tells you, as if that solved your problems.
“That’s not what I’m worried about!” you hiss, sounding almost like a vampire yourself. “I can’t just stay in here with nothing to do, I’ll go crazy!”
Valek pauses, turning back to look at you with an amused expression.
“I am sorry to hear the accommodations are not to your liking. Are you expecting some form of entertainment?” he asks, arching an eyebrow as he looks down at you like you were a child throwing a tantrum. You fold your arms across your chest, glaring at him.
“Did… do you know if the people that live… lived here had any books or anything?” you ask desperately. Maybe he thought you were being dramatic, but you did need to have something to occupy your time and your mind if you were going to be trapped in this room.
“Can I search the rest of the castle for some? I won’t do anything, I can’t make trouble, please…” you beg him, and you think you may see a glimmer of compassion in his pale eyes.
“I cannot allow you to leave this room, for your safety,” he emphasizes his reasoning, and you could almost be touched by the gesture, if this whole situation wasn’t his fault in the first place.
“I will see if anything suitable can be brought to you,” he says finally, leaving without a word, locking the door behind him.
Letting out a growl in your frustration, you immediately move to tug the blankets away from the windows, tossing them back on the bed. Scowling, you spend the remainder of the daylight hours sitting by the window, feeling like Rapunzel trapped in her ivory tower.
The next morning, an entire corner of the room is filled with piles of books, stacked as tall as you.
Two weeks later…
--- Valek’s POV ---
You were practically nocturnal these days, seeming to want to play catch up for your years without the night. It suited Valek perfectly well – he didn’t have to fear exposure to the sunlight to speak with you this way.
He visited your tower for hours at a time, every day, telling himself he was only looking for a reason to keep you here and alive, though it was never clear how these casual conversations were relevant to that pursuit. He would often bring gifts with him, items he gathered that you would enjoy based on your conversations with him. This week, you had mentioned the gardens of Monteriggioni as being one of the only things you missed about the place you’d been made to call home, and he had been bringing potted plants that were now gathered around the windows, soaking up the sun during the day. They were flourishing in the tower, and you had seemed more content with something to take care of.
Cassandra had taken a liking to you as well, treating you as a sort of surrogate child. Valek knew that in addition to the loss of her husband, she also mourned the inability to have children of her own, and having a living human to care for – even one older than herself, in the mortal sense – had brought out her maternal instincts. She would prepare meals for you in the evenings, when the others had left to feed, grateful for the opportunity to cook again and provide for someone, and would visit you often as well.
It wasn’t until the fifteenth day of your capture that Cassandra had come to him, alone in the dungeon of the castle to avoid the rays of the sun.
“What information are you hoping to find, Jan?” she asks him quietly, reclined on a chaise lounge across from him in one of the larger rooms they shared. He had been poring over old tomes as of late, searching for… something. Valek looks over at her, pale eyes narrowed, wanting her to just come out and speak her mind rather than taking this needlessly convoluted approach to the topic.
“Do you really think that there is anything special about her? That she has been confined to Monteriggioni for some crucial reason without her knowledge?”
“It would only make sense,” he says emphatically, closing one of the dusty volumes about the more deeply guarded secret rituals of the Catholic Church.
It truly made no sense to Valek to keep a perfectly capable, intelligent human hidden away for no reason. It was a waste of life, something that he did not appreciate after centuries of living as the undead.
“Would it? Or is that only what you want to believe, dearest?” Cassandra coos in her high soprano.
“What exactly are you suggesting, darling?” Valek retorts, his lip curling upwards as he hisses out the term of endearment.
“You care for Y/N.”
Valek raises an eyebrow.
“I am not the one who spends my nights preparing meals for her like a doting mother.”
“No, you spend your nights speaking with her, or else listening to her from beneath the tower during her waking hours,” she fires back with a smug smile. Valek closes the distance between them in an instant, tugging the small woman roughly by the hair to stand on the chaise, closer to his own eye-level.
“Peace, dear one,” she purrs, stroking his arm with a tiny hand in a calming gesture. “I care for her as well.”
“If we share the sentiment, then why mention it at all, Cassandra?” he demands, releasing her hair. She perches on the back of the chaise now, seeming to float in the air.
“We have not made a move on Monteriggioni in a fortnight, despite now knowing how to enter the city undetected,” she points out. “The others are growing restless.”
“The others will wait as instructed,” he snarls, and she holds her hands up as if in surrender.
“But what are we waiting for, Jan?” she presses, and he knows that she’s being the reasonable one but does not want to continue along this line of conversation.
“They will come for her,” he insists in reference to you. Even though you were apparently not bonded to the Slayers, to Jack, by the ties of familial love – a concept foreign and strangely disappointing to him, being devoid of family for so long himself – you were still a Slayer, and he knows that they will have been planning to rescue or avenge you since discovering your absence.
“They will come for her, and in doing so split their soldiers between us and Monteriggioni,” he explains to Cassandra. “It will be far easier to defeat them when their ranks are divided.”
“And what then?” Cassandra asks, forcing him to confront the part of this whole situation he had been struggling with the most.
“What will you do after all those she has known have been slaughtered, Jan?” she pushes. “Would you keep her alive through that only to kill her afterwards?”
No, he didn’t want you dead. He certainly didn’t want you aware of his role in murdering everyone within the walls of the city you have called home for half of your life. What other options did he have? He walks back over to the desk, looking at the stacks of books and wishing the one with the answer would jump out at him.
“We could Turn her,” she suggests, and a heavy tome jets across the room at her, thrown by Valek’s own hand before he could blink. She barely catches it before it strikes her in the chest, her dainty fingers leaving indents in the vellum.
“No,” he snarls. You would not be subjected to a life of eternal night, of being frozen in time. Not if he could help it. Despite your isolation and loneliness, you were a being that radiated warmth and life, that helped all living things around you thrive. He had watched you feed crumbs you had saved from your meals to birds that flew past your windows the other day, for Christ’s sake! The life of a vampire would not suit you.
“I like having her around,” Cassandra tells him plainly, not beating around the bush. “She could be an excellent scholar, she could help us find other relics…”
All valid points, it was true. But Valek knows that they aren’t his reasons for wanting to keep you with them.
“You don’t need to hide the truth from me, Jan,” she murmurs, looking up at him knowingly from under her eyelashes. “I know love when I see it.”
He rises up to his full height, glaring down at Cassandra. They were not having this conversation.
“Hold your tongue, Cassandra,” he snarls, and the woman bows her head in deference to him, though Valek knows she will not be dissuaded from her opinions, especially given the fact that she was, in all likelihood, right.
“Y/N is not a familiar, she’s a person. And she has lived enough of her life under the thumb of others. I will not condemn her to our fate.”
“Would you just release her into the world then, with nothing and no one? She has no experience moving through the human world on her own!”
“No,” he responds, sounding almost petulant, like a child.
“Then what’s it going to be, Jan? She’s not a Slayer at heart, she can’t survive on her own in the real world, and you refuse to Turn her. What remains but to kill her?”
“I don’t know!” he growls, his voice a far departure from its usual smooth baritone.
Cassandra falls silent, contemplating the situation you were in, and Valek does much of the same.
“You could ask her,” she offers after a few minutes of deliberation. “Ask her what she wants, I mean. You said yourself that Y/N hasn’t had the opportunity to be an independent person, in charge of her own life.”
“You think that I should ask what she would like to do once we have slaughtered everyone she has ever known?” Valek asks, raising an eyebrow.
“No, though I imagine she has already come to that conclusion herself. She is clever, and has likely determined why we have remained so close to their city,” Cassandra says, her tone almost proud as she compliments you. She had become nearly as fond of you as Valek himself over the past couple of weeks.
Nearly.
“We could ask her hypothetically, though she may see through the ruse. Either way, you’d have your answer.”
Valek considers the option. It did seem like the fairest alternative for you.
“Very well, but it can wait until after I’ve confirmed that she does not have some larger role to play for the Church. We cannot let a potential threat–”
His words die out in his throat when a bone-chilling sound echoes through the castle.
“VALEK!” your scream is so loud and piercing that it manages to reach him through the layers of stonework between you.
He and Cassandra move so fast that the other vampires in the castle could hardly see them running past as they sprint up the stairs to your tower, their feet barely touching the stone. He makes to open the door, but your voice rings out again.
“No, don’t come in! I haven’t covered the windows!” you exclaim, and he immediately lets go of the doorknob as though it burned him.
“Y/N, what is it? What’s going on?” Cassandra demands, her voice wild in panic.
“The Slayers, they’re coming! I can see their trucks from my window!” you cry out, and through the battle lust that immediately starts to thrum through him, Valek also notes with no small degree of pleasure that you sound scared rather than relieved. Perhaps the affection he and Cassandra had come to have for you was at least somewhat reciprocated, after all.
But there would be time to dwell on that later.
“Cassandra, go inform the others that we will soon be under attack. Lock down the castle, make use of all of the iron doors and shutters; we cannot allow them to get inside or expose us to the sunlight. Do everything you can to conceal the Berziers Cross.”
The small woman briefly places a hand against the wood of your door, as though hoping she could transfer comfort to you, before nodding and disappearing down the steps.
“Y/N, I will leave the door unlocked. Come downstairs and we will find somewhere to keep you.” He flits down the steps after giving you the instructions, knowing that you would obey. Sure enough, you come running down the spiral stairs a moment later, nearly tripping in your haste. He steadies you, his arms reaching out to catch you without him even considering it, and you look up at him with a concerned expression.
“Keep me where? What are you going to do?”
“We only need to hold out until nightfall; after that, we can get you somewhere more secure before staging our counterattacks.”
“Counterattacks?!” you repeat incredulously, emphasizing the plural. Your eyes flit from side to side as you process the information, trying to put the pieces together. He sees it on your face the moment you register what his plans were; he had known that you were clever, after all.
“You’re going to attack Monteriggioni?!” you his at him, your ire and horror bothering him more than they should. “Valek, you can’t! Most of the people there aren’t active Slayers! What about the children?”
You had clearly not lived through the brutalities of war, your skin turning pale as you come to the correct conclusion.
“Valek, no…” you whisper in a horrified, broken voice. “Please, you can’t do this! They didn’t do anything wrong!”
Yet, Valek thinks, though he does not speak.
“Cassandra!” you scream, and the woman appears by your side at an instant, seeming concerned. “You can’t, you can’t kill all those children, it’s not their fault! They had no choice!” you sob, pleading with the woman. Valek has to give you credit; you are certainly adept at using the information gleaned from others against them, targeting Cassandra’s longing for motherhood. Sure enough, the shorter woman hesitates, her eyes flicking from you to Valek.
“Please, leave the city alone,” you beg, your eyes staring into his, and he finds himself compelled by the emotions stirring within them. “Leave the children alone. You’re not a monster, Valek, I know you aren’t.”
He loses himself once more in your eyes, trying to decide on the right course of action. Finally, he comes to a conclusion that best serves his interests.
“We will not lay siege to the city,” he begins, and your eyes light up in response.
“…provided that you accompany me to parlay with your father. It would appear that you are more valuable to him than you thought.”
He could have mesmerized you to achieve the same result, he knows that, but it was important that you be clear-headed for the conversation so that he could determine where your loyalties lay. It also helped that he knew you would agree to any terms he set if it meant sparing the lives of the children.
“Anything, Valek,” you promise him immediately, looking up at him with gratitude and relief. “Just please don’t hurt the children.”
“Very well. Cassandra, go and tell the others that we will be keeping our forces united and focused on protecting the castle.”
The woman flits away again, and Valek looks down to you, offering you his hand. You take it without hesitation, and he pulls you close, his other arm curled around your body, holding you to him. He feels your heartbeat rapidly increase at the sudden movement, or the proximity to him; he’s not sure which.
“And you are going to have to trust me, little one,” he croons, and you lean further into him despite yourself, the magnetism his species had on your kind taking hold. The dazed longing that fills your eyes is due to nothing more than the chemistry and biology of predator and prey, but he cannot deny that he enjoys the sight of you gazing at him in such a way.
“You will make an effective bargaining chip after all.”
The moment that he and Cassandra had returned to the castle with their prizes, he had seen to it that the Berziers Cross had been stashed somewhere safe in the dungeons, set to be guarded by at least two other Masters or Mistresses at all times. He would take no chances, with either of his new treasures.
Once the Cross had been secured, Valek had ascended the spiral staircase to the top of the tall tower, where Cassandra had felt it best to keep you. She was Valek’s right hand, she had been for centuries, and was the only one (other than himself) that he would trust with you, the young human woman that shared the blood of his greatest enemy.
You had been a pleasant surprise, the first time they had spotted you wandering the catacombs. The Master Vampires had known of the catacombs under the fortified city of Monteriggioni for nearly a decade now, and had found one of the few disused entrances to the tunnels that went beyond the city’s walls last year.
Ever since, they had taken to exploring the subterranean depths – only Master Vampires, and always in pairs of two. They didn’t need some typical or goon getting lost down there, or worse: being spotted and giving away that they had found a way into the Slayers’ city. You had been the only human that they had seen wandering so far into the catacombs, and they came through often. It had been a fascination to those who came upon you to figure out what you were trying to do down here, especially for Valek.
There was something about you that he found… well, not familiar, but almost like you produced a constant sense of déjà vu, and he couldn’t imagine why. Though you were an adult – appearing to be in your mid- to late-twenties, only slightly younger than he had been when he’d been Turned – you were clearly a new Slayer, meaning that you had likely spent your life within the walls of the city. He couldn’t possibly know you.
They vampires had played this cat and mouse game with you nearly every time you had been in the catacombs – not that you had had any idea that you’d been playing – following your movements, seeing if you could lead them to anything of value, like a way to infiltrate the city with the whole vampire population efficiently enough to take the fortress.
There were also rumours that some of the ancient and forgotten relics had been returned to Monteriggioni after centuries. They had come across a few symbols carved into the stone during their exploration, but all were marked as requiring the blood of a willing Crusader and could not be opened, even with their inhuman strength.
The first time Valek had watched you unseal a passage, he’d been incredibly surprised that you had even known what to do. That sort of knowledge was not easy to come by, and was certainly not the sort of thing that his sources had told him were taught to new Slayers. But you had known what to do, slicing your thumb and pressing it to the stone to open the door.
From the moment your blade had torn open your flesh, he had been certain about what you were, who you were, at least to some extent.
A Crow.
Having traced his enemy’s family tree as much as he could, Valek hadn’t thought that Jack Crow had any living relatives, no matter how distant. His family had intermarried with other Slayers for generations, living and dying for the cause; there had been no offshoots that he knew of. And you were still young, which meant that the only likely possibility was that you were his offspring, his child.
He had wanted to steal you away right then, but Cassandra, calm and wise has ever, had persuaded him to wait. Not only could he not be certain of your lineage, but you were providing them a great service, allowing them to access the hidden altars and alcoves within the catacombs without realizing that they were watching.
So from then on, he and Cassandra had been the only ones patrolling the catacombs, tailing you as you mapped out the underground labyrinth.
It hadn’t been until recently, when you had started exploring the Western quadrant of the tunnels, that he had felt it. An unsettling, prickly feeling at the back of his neck that he didn’t really recognize, it had been so long: Fear.
Rather than fleeing from the sensation, Valek had found himself seeking out the source, wondering what it was that was causing such a primal, human reaction in him. He followed the feeling to the entrance to the secret alcove you had discovered today, recognizing the symbol of the moon as one of transformation.
Only a few relics were worthy of being marked by such a symbol.
And only one would cause him to react the way he was.
The Berziers Cross…
Of course, it made sense for it to be here – this was one of the Vatican’s most secure locations, after all. But still, to have it so close…
They had been trying to guide you towards it for a few weeks now, ghosting ahead of you, leading you towards it by the mysterious breeze whose origin you could not discern; they had merely been running past you, moving too quickly for you to see.
The moment you had opened the passageway tonight, and he had looked within to see the Cross, he had known you would both be returning to the castle with them. As you had ducked into the alcove to investigate the Cross, he hadn’t been able to help himself, pressing against the stone and licking your lifeblood from the rough surface, savouring the taste like one would a fine wine.
You had served your purpose here in the catacombs, guiding him towards his salvation and the salvation of his species; there was nothing else of value to him in here. Having you with him could serve a variety of purposes: forcing you to reveal information about the Slayers’ teachings, using you as a bargaining chip should such an occasion for one arise, or (his personal favourite) luring Jack Crow out to come and save his precious daughter.
And if neither of those options was feasible, he could always use you for the ritual sacrifice.
It was a shame though; you actually seemed to have a brain that you put to use, unlike the rest of your Slayer ilk that he had encountered over the centuries.
But enough pondering for now. It was time to get better acquainted with you.
Opening the door to the master bedchamber – it wasn’t like he or any of his associates would be needing to sleep – he finds you spread out on the dark sheets, Cassandra keeping vigil over you, ever his loyal confidante.
“She has not yet awoken – I fear I was needlessly overwhelming with my mesmerization.”
Valek waves off her concern; as the first vampire, his own abilities would be able to supersede her own. You would wake when he wanted you to.
“I will wake her shortly. Thank you for your aid as always, Cassandra. If you would, please ensure that we are not disturbed; it will be easier to speak with her if she is not distracted or frightened.”
“Of course, darling. I will tell the others to go and feed and stand watch for you.”
“Thank you, dearest,” he murmurs, watching her exit the room. The terms of endearment came naturally to them now, after centuries together, though they viewed one another as siblings and close companions, neither having the capacity for romance. Cassandra’s Love had been taken from her before he had Turned her; and Valek had never encountered someone to take to his bed.
As a human, Jan’s life had been devoted to the Church, and he had abstained from the temptations of the flesh. As the first vampire, he had partaken in many a sinful pleasure, but his heart had never been stirred by another; he had come to believe that he was incapable of love, yet another sacrifice exchanged for the immortality of his soul.
He is brought out of his thoughts by the sound of your heart steadily beating, looking over to your slumbering form once more. Idly, he wonders if he has taken you from a partner. He hopes not; he has seen that devastation firsthand with Cassandra, still sees it now, and wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
Approaching the bed, Valek contemplates how best to set the scene. He doesn’t want to intimidate you by towering over you, and sitting on the edge of the bed was far too intimate. He decides on leaning against the old wooden vanity across the room, to give you the most space possible. But first he approaches the bed; without being able to make eye contact with you, he needs to touch you for the mesmerization to take. He gently takes one of your hands in his own, marveling at your warmth as he always did when experiencing human touch. Your hand was so tiny in his, like a doll’s…
“Awaken, little one,” he says softly, waiting until he feels your heartbeat quicken as you come out of sleep before releasing your hand and moving across the room. He detects the imperceptible tension in your body as you regain consciousness, but you make no attempt to move or speak. He resists the urge to chuckle as you play dead, crossing his arms across his broad chest. He could be patient.
--- Reader’s POV ---
You wonder if the presence in the room with you would just get bored and leave eventually if you stayed frozen like this. Well, either that or kill you. Probably not; if they had wanted to kill you they would have done so already.
You had known you weren’t at home immediately upon regaining consciousness – none of the beds in the dormitories at home were anywhere near this soft, their sheets nowhere near so decadent. The memories leading up to your unconsciousness had returned immediately afterwards, and you know that you are in the possession of the vampires. You hope the rest of the city is safe and secure.
Forcing yourself to sit up, you open your eyes, expecting to see the smaller female vampire that had hunted you down. Instead, her partner sits staring at you from across the room, the contrast between his pale complexion and dark hair and clothing making him look like he was a ghost made of shadows and moonlight. Even from across the room, his size and stature are immense, and it feels like he’s filling the room with his form.
“Welcome to Castello della Chiocciola, Y/N Crow,” he says by way of greeting, spreading his arms wide like a gracious host. “I am Jan Valek.”
Your spine stiffens as he introduces himself.
Jan Valek, the Master Vampire…
So, you were definitely going to die then.
“I take it from your expression that you have heard of me,” he continues smoothly, using the deceptive, crooning tone that you had been told some vampires used to lure in their victims. You give him a tight nod.
“Then you know that you need to cooperate with me and answer my questions, isn’t that right?”
You nod again, not trusting yourself to speak.
“Very good,” he purrs, his seductive voice sending unwelcome shivers down your spine. “Now, I want you to tell me everything you know about the current movements and plans of any active teams of Slayers.”
“I don’t know anything,” you tell him honestly, trying not to let your irritation at that fact show.
“Do not make things difficult for yourself, Y/N,” he suggests, his voice like honey. “Now, tell me about the active hunts the Slayers are undertaking,” he croons, his eyes glowing again, and you feel compelled to answer. He won’t be happy with what you tell him, though.
“I don’t know,” you groan, your body starting to ache as you fail to acquiesce to Valek’s persuasion. “Please, make it stop, it hurts!”
Valek blinks, and his spell – or whatever it was, the Scholars still had no idea – is broken.
“Thank you,” you say sincerely once you’ve shaken off the discomfort. And you do mean it – the mercy of vampires had not been mentioned in your training, and him ending the mesmerization surprises you. He cocks his head, surveying you with a strange expression that you’re not sure what to make of.
“You seem to be telling the truth. But how can this be? Slayers of your age are, to my knowledge, part of a team or assigned a role within Monteriggioni. Either way, you would have some information.”
You scowl. Great, you were such a waste of existence that the being responsible for the creation of all vampires was disappointed in your lack of value.
“Well, I haven’t been. So sorry to disappoint,” you snap, your voice dripping with sarcasm, “but if you took me in the hopes of learning new information, you could not have picked a worse person.”
Valek seems to consider this for a moment, looking out the window into the night. You curl up on the bed, feeling a chill, but don’t dare make to pull the blankets around yourself.
“I don’t suppose you’ll make my death quick and painless?” you ask, half-joking, and his head snaps back to look at you, pale eyes trying to ascertain the intention behind your comment. Did vampires not understand sarcasm?
“You are regrettably cursed by your lineage, Y/N Crow; your death will be anything but a brief ordeal. I cannot abandon such an opportunity to lure out the Master Slayer. I imagine that he will be desperate to rescue his precious daughter, his only child, from the clutches of his enemies.”
There is a prolonged silence, and Valek imagines that you need a moment to let your fate sink in.
And then you burst into laughter.
You know that you shouldn’t, you’re sure you should be terrified, and that laughing hysterically at the plans of the world’s most powerful vampire is probably assuring your death, but you can’t help it, laughing until tears are pouring down your cheeks. Blinking through your watery eyes, you see Valek has risen from his position on the vanity and moved towards the bed, staring at you with a perplexed, almost concerned expression.
He seems to finally recognize that you are laughing at him, anger clouding his expression before he closes the distance between you faster than you can blink, a large, pale hand curling under your chin to grip it firmly, but not enough to hurt you.
“Enough of this,” he hisses, his eyes glowing with the inner light of mesmerization, and you feel the laughter immediately die in your throat.
“What exactly is so amusing to you?” he asks, not releasing your jaw. You take a moment to compose yourself, wiping the tears from your cheeks and taking a calming breath.
“If you think that my dear father will lift a finger to go out of his way to ‘save’ me, you are very mistaken, Valek.”
The vampire looks at you with a neutral, flat expression, his pale eyes staring into yours like he was trying to read your mind. That wasn’t an ability that vampires were known to possess, but with this first vampire you couldn’t really be sure; only a couple of people had encountered Valek and lived.
“Explain,” he orders, and you feel the pull of the hypnosis again.
“Jack Crow doesn’t give a shit about me,” you spit out the words bitterly. “I’m just another new Slayer to him – actually, I’m not even that important. And you don’t need to use your magic powers to get me to talk, you know. It’s rude.”
You’re not sure where you’re getting the brazen attitude to demand politeness from a being who could tear you into a million pieces in an instant – it probably stems from the slow-burning rage you feel at the mere thought of your father and your lack of relationship with him.
“My apologies. I am not used to your kind being nearly so… forthcoming,” he replies, not seeming offended by your audacity. On the contrary, he seems rather fascinated, looking at you the way a young child did when he found an interesting insect on a leaf. He releases your face and lowers himself to crouch beside the bed at your eye-level like he didn’t know what to make of you.
“Well, I’m not quite like the others; I wasn’t born and raised with the cult mindset of the Slayers. They aren’t particularly fond of us thinking for ourselves,” you inform him with a frown.
“Then why are you in Monteriggioni?” he asks, seeming genuinely curious. You suppose he hasn’t exactly had the opportunity to speak to a human – or anyone born in the last several decades – and can’t fault him for being inquisitive.
“I was born and raised in America, away from all of this. I didn’t come here until I was thirteen. I didn’t know about Jack, or… any of this, until I was brought here and put through the training. I don’t know why they haven’t let me leave yet; I went through the training and everything, but no one comes for me. I haven’t left the city for over a decade, until tonight, that is.”
You look over to the window with a wistful expression. You’d been wanting to get out of Monteriggioni for so long, and now you finally were, under circumstances that were going to result in your death.
What had even been the point of your time on this earth when the entirety of your life had been spent trapped under someone’s authority?
“To be perfectly honest with you, Valek, I’d rather you just kill me now – waiting around just for him to never show up will be far more torturous than being torn apart.”
You turn away from him, angrily brushing away the tears that fill your eyes. You wonder if Jack thought you were as much of a disappointment as he had been to you.
A large hand gently grips your shoulder, sending a chill through you, and you close your eyes, bracing yourself for the end.
--- Valek’s POV ---
“B-Before you do it, can I do one last thing first?” you ask quietly, your voice trembling and thick with emotion.
You are a strange creature, Valek thinks to himself as your heat seeps from his hand on your shoulder up through his arm. So young, and yet already so filled with despondency, rejected by the world of the living. You had proven you would not be useful to him for any of the reasons he had taken you (except, of course, as a sacrifice), but he finds himself wanting to keep you alive and under observation.
“What is it that you wish to do?” he finds himself asking, not bothering to hypnotize you. It hadn’t been necessary.
“Can I just look out the window first? Just for a minute?”
The longing in your voice is palpable, but he doesn’t get the sense that you are mourning your impending death. You truly seem to just want to see outside.
“As you wish,” he replies, removing his hand from your shoulder and taking a couple of respectful steps backwards. You take a deep breath before slipping off the bed and taking the few hesitant steps you need to reach the window, as though you were afraid of what you’d see.
You lift your head and look out into the night, the moonlight illuminating your expression with a mystical glow. Your breath comes in heavy gasps for a moment, but then you regain your composure once more, gripping the windowsill with your hands.
“We were never allowed out at night,” you murmur, and Valek wonders if you remember that you are talking to him. “They locked the doors and sealed the windows at dusk every night, just in case we were attacked. The only reason I’ve been able to explore the catacombs is because my sleeping cot was moved out of the main dormitory once I completed my training. Nobody knew where to put me, and I ended up in an old vestry of one of the churches that had access to them…”
Valek files that information away for later.
“I can’t remember the last time I saw the moon,” you breathe, your voice infused with a sense of such wonder that he finds himself enthralled by it, and by you.
Valek could understand the grief that came with being restricted by a greater force, perhaps more than anyone. For over six hundred years, half of his life had been spent in hiding, unable to sleep or while away the hours with anyone other than whichever handful of vampires that were with him at the time. In some ways, you have been even more confined than he was; not only were you limited by time, but space, living within the same four fortress walls for half of your life. At least he had seen the world, even if only shrouded in darkness.
For the first time in centuries – since the creation of the last Master Vampire, in fact – he feels compassion as he observes you taking in your freedom, as ironic as that was.
He isn’t sure how long he stands there, watching you, but after a time you turn, jumping slightly when you see him looking at you.
“Alright,” you say with a degree of finality, a cross between a smile and a grimace twisting your lips. “Let’s get this over with.”
You lower your hands to your sides, your eyes closed and your body radiating tension as you brace for impact, and he finds your sage-like acceptance of your death oddly profound.
Deciding to spare you – just for the time being, he reassures himself – he silently moves to stand next to you. You were such a fragile, delicate little thing, as Cassandra had been when he had first come across her. That was probably the reason behind this act of mercy.
Indeed.
He slowly raises his hand and caresses the side of your face, feeling you vibrating in fear beneath his fingertips, and the whimper that you let out would have his heart clenching, if it still had the capacity to beat. He stills, waiting for you to look at him, and eventually you do, uncertainty reflected in your beautiful eyes. You were braver than most humans he had come across, even as you calmly accepted the notion of your death.
He lets the glow escape from his eyes to mesmerize you, the only reason he has decided to touch you, wanting to make sure that his instructions stuck, and your eyes go glassy as your mind switches to a suggestible state.
“You will not make any attempts to harm or kill yourself or others while in my… care,” he begins, pausing to let the message sink in. He doubts that you could do any significant damage to a vampire with what was available to you here, but harming yourself risked triggering a vampire’s bloodlust, and that wouldn’t do with his plans for you.
“When you hear a knock at the door tomorrow, you will seal the windows so that no daylight enters the room,” he instructs, knowing that there was enough to work with in the room that the compulsion would guide you sufficiently in completing the task. You seemed to be a resourceful thing.
Satisfied that the mesmerization had taken, he dims the glow in his eyes, waiting until you return to full consciousness before removing his hand from your face, taking a couple of steps back. You don’t say anything, stunned silent by this staying of your execution.
“Other than that, you are free to do as you wish in here. Enjoy the night, Y/N Crow,” he says softly, turning and exiting the room, locking the door behind him. He pauses at the top of the steps, contemplating his decision as he listens to your stuttering breaths.
Ahhh the last chapter is here! Just the Epilogue tomorrow and then this story will come to an end (for now). This is another story where I can see myself writing in the missing pieces, especially if I know one of you wants to hear more about something. So... feel free to flood my inbox with requests for these two! (Or Cassandra, I love her)
TW: Blood, violence, blood-drinking, dubious consent (depending on how you look at it), character death
Previous Parts:
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4
---
Reader’s POV:
The pain manages to be both a dull ache and a biting sting, radiating further outward from the knife’s entry point with every beat of your heart. He had stabbed you – your own father – and the worst part is that somehow, you’re hardly even surprised.
“Y/N! Y/N, can you hear me?” you hear Valek calling out to you, but it sounds like he’s so far away, or underwater.
The irony of the vampire trying to save the human from the Slayer is not lost on you, but you’re too focused on trying to not bleed out to find amusement in it. His bloodlust must be driving him mad at the amount you’re sure you’ve lost already, and you don’t want him coming into the sunlight as the need to feed on you increases with every beat of your heart.
With all your strength, you force your eyes to open and start crawling towards the dark side of the room, your vision hazy. You know that you’ve reached the boundary between light and shadow because the instant Valek can safely touch you, he’s dragged you across the threshold as quickly and gently as possible.
“Do it, Valek,” you mumble through the pain, hissing when he presses his cold hand over your wound. “S’okay, feed on me; my death’ll be worth something. Use your extra strength to kill that bastard for me, alright?”
You hear a deep rumbling noise, and it takes a moment for you to realize that the sound is Valek chuckling to himself.
“Always so eager to die a martyr,” he comments wryly, gently lifting you into his arms – you notice that he’s kept one hand pressed against your wound, and try not to think about the fact that he’s forcibly keeping your blood inside of your body. “Unfortunately, I have no plans to let you sacrifice yourself today, my dear. I’m taking you to Cassandra.”
Valek moves quickly with you now, but you don’t feel jostled at all as he cradles you to his body.
“Cassandra?” you repeat dazedly, keeping your eyes closed. “I like her,” you inform him seriously, and you can feel the laughter he lets out in response through his chest.
“She cares very deeply for you, little one,” he murmurs, pressing you even closer to him. Even with your eyes closed, you can tell by the degree of darkness behind your eyelids that you’ve retreated into the dungeons. “Cassandra!” he roars, turning his head away from you so as to not deafen you. You feel a sudden breeze, and know that she has appeared by your side.
“Y/N! Jan, what happened?” she demands, and it dawns on you how you’ve gone from finding her voice grating to melodic over the course of your time together. You force your eyes open to look at her, to look at them both.
“He stabbed me,” you tell her grumpily, scowling deeply. Cassandra’s hand comes up to cover her mouth, her eyes wide.
“Take her to the Cross and tend to her wounds; she should be safe there,” Valek instructs the tiny woman, handing you off to her like you weighed nothing. Instinctively, your hand grips onto his black coat tightly.
“Where are you going?” you ask him desperately. You didn’t want him going anywhere.
“I must lead the others and stave off the attack. The stone should hold them off for quite awhile, but I will not give them the chance to enter the Castle and survive.”
“B-But,” you try to protest, but your mind is getting foggy as your body starts to go into shock. Firmly but gently, Valek pries your fingers off of his coat, taking your hand in his own.
“I will come back to you, Y/N,” he promises sagely, and you force yourself to believe him.
“Take care of her,” he murmurs to Cassandra before disappearing from the corner of the dungeon, quicker than you could blink.
Cassandra walks with you to the far wall of the dungeon, bending to lift a trapdoor out of the floor before leaping down through it, placing you gently on the floor before closing the door after you. For your benefit, she lights a small oil lamp, placing it in the corner. Amongst the sacks of produce and dusty crates, the Berziers Cross glitters in the candlelight.
“Alright, luv. I’m going to need at your back, alright? Can I take the robe off?” she asks, and you nod your head, feeling too nauseated to speak. She helps you lay down on your stomach once removing the robe, some empty sacks between you and the cold stone floor, and something about the chill seems to help the nausea fade.
Cassandra starts to prod at you, rummaging through some bags tied to her skirt, and you try to distract yourself from the pain.
“So umm… why can you do this for me?” you ask, trying not to flinch as you see her delicate hands thread a needle.
“I was an apothecary, when I was human,” she mutters absent-mindedly. “My husband and I, we both were. I've tried to keep up with it a bit since I've Turned.”
“What happened to him?” you ask in a whisper, whimpering as Cassandra douses the wound in some sort of liquid that stings.
“He was executed for witchcraft,” she says bluntly, starting to stitch your skin back together. “I would have been as well, but William sacrificed himself so that I could escape.”
“I’m so sorry,” you tell her sincerely. You desperately want to change the subject, not wanting to cause the woman anymore suffering. “Why can you be so close to my blood without wanting to feed?”
To your surprise Cassandra snorts, then laughs quietly to herself.
“Stupid rumours and filthy lies…” she hisses, and you hope that she’s never as mad at you as she sounds right now. “The mythical concept of bloodlust is a farce. It’s all about developing impulse control. A new thrall or goon that doesn’t have guidance from an elder vampire doesn’t know any other way; it gives us all a bad name.”
“Wait, really?” you ask incredulously, momentarily pausing as a loud ‘BOOM!’ rocks through the castle. The attack has begun. “So blood doesn’t bother you?” you force yourself to continue talking, even more desperate for the distraction now that other people were hurting.
“If a delicious pasta dish is on the table beside you, are you still able to function normally?” Cassandra responds teasingly, and you both laugh. “It is like that. Your blood smells delicious, but you are my friend and I am not thirsty; it is easy to resist.”
Slowly, she helps you back up into a sitting position, wrapping you in your robe once more.
“I’ve stopped the bleeding. The dagger missed your vital organs; you should heal fully in time.”
“Thank you, Cassandra,” you say sincerely, longing to wrap the tiny vampire into a hug. That is, you were wanting to hug her until you catch her licking your blood off of her fingers. She gives you a look as she catches you staring at her in horror.
“What? It’s out of your body already,” she whines, continuing to clean herself off, mumbling about wastefulness. You chuckle weakly to yourself.
“May I ask you something personal, Y/N?” she asks, tilting her head to the side as she stares at you. You nod, feeling a sense of trepidation.
“During your time here, have you come to see Valek as –”
“Oh, Valek!” you exclaim, cursing yourself for having gotten distracted. “Please Cassandra, go join him in the fight, he’ll need your help!”
“Valek told me to take care of you,” she replies firmly.
“And you have; you said I’ll be fine! I’ll keep the light out, I’ll stay quiet, no one will know that I’m here!”
As if to support your argument, the screeching of a dying vampire can be heard in the distance; you know that it is likely much more piercing to Cassandra’s ears.
“Go, Cassandra! For Valek, please!” you insist, pleading with her desperately. If something happened to Valek, after everything…
Looking torn, Cassandra nods tightly.
“Alright, little one. Stay safe, and stay here until one of us comes to collect you,” she orders you, kissing you on the forehead. “Everything will be fine,” she says consolingly, moving to extinguish the oil lamp. “Try to rest.”
You are unsure of how long you lay there in the darkness, falling into a fitful rest before being awoken by the muffled sounds of fighting above you. It almost felt like being buried alive, in a way.
Finally, you hear the creak of the trapdoor opening above you, the sound of fighting distant. You wonder if perhaps it is finally dusk and the Slayers were going to retreat, but not enough light comes into the Castle to inform your opinion one way or the other.
“Cassandra?” you call out softly to yourself, wondering why the person hasn’t announced themselves. “Valek?”
You see a shadowy silhouette drop down into the darkness with you, their landing far too audible for it to have been a vampire.
Before you can move, the beam of a flashlight hits you directly in your face and blinds you. You raise a hand to shield your eyes, making out the intruder’s silhouette.
“I’ll burn in hell before I let another one of my bloodline become a fucking bloodsucker,” Jack hisses, advancing on you with his crossbow.
---
Valek’s POV:
“What are you doing here, Cassandra?” Valek snarls in rage as the petite woman joins him, dashing out from behind a pillar and tearing a Slayer’s heart out from his chest before they could fire their crossbow.
They had tried setting fire to the structure, but fortunately too much of it was stone to burn. The vampires had been able to dodge the areas the sunlight had managed to get through, and they were fairly evenly matched in their numbers – but by strength, the vampires far surpassed them. Only two of their number had been destroyed thus far, both recently turned goons that were easily distracted and untrained.
“She’s fine, she’s stable,” Cassandra replies shortly, moving through the castle with him, working to exterminate the Slayers. Valek is relieved to hear that, but unhappy that you are currently unguarded.
“She begged me to leave, Jan. She’s worried about you,” she tells him coyly, looking over at him with amusement.
“Dusk is approaching,” he says, firmly turning the subject away from you. This was not a difficult battle, but he does not want to risk distraction. “We only need to hold out a moment longer. They will not risk continuing this when the sun cannot protect them.”
Sure enough, they soon hear a Slayer calling for Jack. Valek has seen him with the man before during their previous encounters – Montoya? It didn’t matter; he would be dead in a moment.
“He’s not answering,” Montoya growls at another Slayer. “We’ve looked everywhere; he’s either dead or gone. Either way, it’s high time we get out of here. Everybody, fall back!” he yells, the order echoing throughout the castle. The vampires retreat to the shadows, not lowering their guard until the last of the trucks has peeled out and retreated back to Monteriggioni. As a precaution, Valek has the survivors comb the castle from the top to the bottom, searching for any hidden Slayers or traps that could have been set, but everything turns up empty.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Valek and Cassandra move towards the last corner of the dungeon to fetch you. As they turn the corner to the little alcove, they notice immediately that something is different, that something is very wrong.
The trapdoor to the cellar has been flung open.
Valek freezes before dashing over to the hole in the ground, dread tightening his muscles as his nose detects a familiar scent: Crow blood.
“Y/N!” he bellows, dropping into the cellar and frantically searching for you. Cassandra follows, landing silently beside him, and Valek can sense that she is nearly as distraught as he is.
“Jan, it’s her,” she murmurs, and he spins around to face the corner, preparing for the worst.
You are covered in blood, your outer robe sliced to bits and the white slip covered in crimson splotches. Your eyes are wide and wild, and he’s not sure if you’re actually seeing them at the moment. You’ve got something clutched tightly in your hand, and you’re crouched defensively, guarding something.
“Y/N,” he calls your name quietly, not wanting to frighten you but hoping to bring you back to reality for a moment. Your eyes flick to his, and it takes a moment before recognition shines in them. You drop the weapon in your hand, the now-familiar dagger clattering to the floor carelessly as you start to move towards him.
“Valek!” you cry, staggering awkwardly in his direction; he moves to you immediately, lifting you in his arms. You were seriously hurt; he could hear it in your faint, irregular heartbeat, taste it in the scent of your blood in the air.
“Cassandra!” you exclaim happily, spotting the small redhead behind him. “I’m so glad you’re both alright!”
“What happened, Y/N?” he presses, reclaiming your attention. Weakly, you lift your arm to point to the corner where you had been, and he spots the Berziers Cross. Next to it lies the bloodied, slumped corpse of Jack Crow.
“I couldn’t let him have it,” you mutter, your eyes fluttering closed as you hiss in a pained breath. Valek quickly leaves the cellar with you, sensing Cassandra following as he takes you back to your tower, which had been largely undamaged by the battle. He places you gently on the bed, letting Cassandra look you over; he was not trained in such matters. Instead, he settles for continuing to speak to you.
“You should have let him have it, Y/N,” he tells you sternly. “We could have reclaimed it at another time.”
“He wanted to kill me anyway,” you say assuredly, and Valek knows better than to doubt you. “And you needed it.”
The poor girl had sacrificed herself, killed her own father (as strained and non-existent as that relationship had been) to keep the possible solution to his eternal damnation protected?
Silly, foolish human. He would’ve damned himself all over again if it had meant you remaining unharmed.
“Jan, she’s bleeding out,” Cassandra cuts in urgently, and his body seizes with tension. “This is more than I can fix.”
You don’t acknowledge her words, and are likely fading in and out of consciousness.
“If you’re going to Turn her, it needs to be soon,” is all she says before turning back to you and kissing you on the forehead. “I love you, little one,” she coos sweetly, stroking the side of your face before moving from the bed. “I will go check on the survivors, and see what needs to be done. No matter what you decide, you should stay with her.”
Cassandra walks past, squeezing his arm slightly, before leaving the two of you alone in the tower.
Valek takes up Cassandra’s spot at your bedside, leaning over your small frame, and tries to mesmerize you into consciousness, his hand touching your face gently.
“Y/N, wake up. I need you to focus for me.”
“Valek…” you groan his name sleepily, forcing your eyes open.
“Try to stay awake, dear one. You have a decision to make.”
“Hmm?” you hum, blinking slowly. If the circumstances weren’t so dire, Valek would take the time to cherish this moment, and your sweet expression, but he presses on.
“Cassandra could not save you, Y/N,” he tells you bluntly, and you clearly understand him despite your befuddled state, your eyes closing and a few tears trailing down your cheeks.
“I can Turn you, and you will live, but I will not force this type of existence on you if you would rather pass on as a human.”
“No!” you cry out in a panic, your eyes opening wide. You wince as the tension of your body exacerbates your injuries, and struggle to relax. “No… I want to stay with you, please,” you whisper, looking up at him pleadingly, and Valek fights to keep the pleased smile from spreading across his face.
“Alright, little one. I will make the pain stop,” he murmurs, moving to lower his lips to your neck.
“Wait!” you cry out, and he freezes, straightening up once more. “B-Before you do it, can I do one last thing first?” you ask quietly, echoing your words from your first night here. Last time, you had asked to see the moon…
He leans down towards you, trying to keep you focused on him and awake, just for a little longer. With more strength than he thought you capable of at the moment, you push yourself upwards, your lips gently pressing against his in a sweet kiss that has him feeling nearly alive again.
Carefully, he guides you back down to rest against the bed as he returns the kiss; you didn’t need to strain yourself, especially now. He captures your lips again and again, nearly overwhelmed with feelings and desires the way he hasn’t felt since the days of bloodlust right after his transformation, all those years ago. But he couldn’t get carried away now; soon, you could both have eternity together.
Reluctantly, he breaks the kiss, seeing a small smile curling the ends of your mouth. Now too weak to open your eyes, you give a tiny, imperceptible nod of consent. Valek leans down to whisper in your ear.
“It will make you feel strongly, my treasure, and for that I am sorry. But it will heal your wounds, and I will stay with you the whole time.”
Without drawing it out, he turns his head towards your neck, biting down on your soft flesh, his fangs sinking into your jugular. The more he got into your bloodstream, the faster you would heal and Turn, he reasons, repeating the motion on the other side of your neck.
You arch off the bed, your eyes wide open but unseeing as you half-scream, half-moan at the sensations as the bite starts to take effect.
“Doesn’t it feel beautiful? Something you’ll never forget. I know I won’t,” he purrs, stroking your cheek. He hopes that your softness won’t entirely disappear when you Turn.
Sliding down the bed, he lifts each of your wrists to his lips, biting them quickly at the pulse points before doing the same to your thighs, savouring the way they tremble against his lips. He may be overdoing it, but the quicker you Turned, the quicker you healed.
At least, that’s what he’ll tell you, he thinks as he lowers his mouth to your body for more.
[Okay, he doesn't get *that* handsy with you while Turning you, but gifs are limited and it's fun to pretend!]
