#vampyr x reader

[desmond69miles]

The fact it's canon that Jonathan speaks at least a little French from fighting in the war sends me into ovulation.

Like, this man, sweet talking to you while fingering you??/??

[desmond69miles]

desmon69miles’ masterlist !

this is an updated masterlist of all my non-anime works. I do not consider myself apart of the JJK/KNY fandom anymore and therefore won't post for it.

—> guide: click here!

ASSASSIN'S CREED An Artists Eye (Arno x Reader smut)

The Catch (Arno x Reader smut)

Jacob with a werewolf s/o

Jacob with a vampire s/o

RESIDENT EVIL (games) nsft vendetta chreon x reader thoughts

BENDY AND THE INK MACHINE: sfw+nsfw ink demon headcanons

monstrance clock (ink demon nsfw fic)

nsfw ink demon alphabet

more bendy hcs (nsfw + sfw)

bendy with an s/o who self-harms 

bloodletting (freddy fazbear, huggy wuggy, bendy (human) x reader nsfw)

bendy with a goth s/o (nsfw + sfw)

the ink demon parenting

monstrance clock

DEVIL MAY CRY Soft, soft silk. (Kyrie x reader NSFW)

Nsfw + Sfw relationship hcs for trish

Dante + Vergil NSFW drabbles

NOTABLE FICS Din Djarin wordspew

[hoodedboy79]

Part 7

-(Male Reader)-

Just a quick chapter to show that I haven't forgotten this! Or my account in general tbf.

=========

Rain had started to come down as Jonathan stepped back out onto the street, leaving the temporary sanctuary of the Turquoise Turtle. He briefly wondered if his escort was still lingering somewhere nearby, but he doubted it.

"I will get to the bottom of this intrigue. Of what’s been done to me. To this city." He muttered the words to himself. It was clear that the aftermath of the war and this epidemic were not the only rot London suffered from.

As he turned the corner towards the docks, the world seemed to shift once again. The colouring around him dissipated, and while his head still spun, he didn’t stagger this time—thankfully. The last thing he needed right now was to fall over his own feet in the middle of the street, and in the rain at that.

Blood spatters on the dock seemed to be illuminated, guiding him. As he walked closer, he noticed the corpse slumped in the boat.

'Is this William? Surely not.' The crate of alcohol next to the body did nothing to ease the suspicion.

He reached out and grasped the man’s bloodied wrist.

"This body is still warm…This man has just been drained of blood." Once again he was too late, but clearly on the right track.

Jonathan crouched as best he could, mostly so he wouldn’t end up falling into the boat when he leaned over. He’d had enough of lying on top of corpses to last a lifetime.

He squinted, using the low glow of the petroleum hand lamp that sat on the other side of the cadaver to take in as many details as he could. The corpse had three fairly deep lacerations on the right side of its face, explaining the amount of blood there. Jonathan also noticed a knife holder attached to the man’s belt.

"This man was armed. He tried to defend himself." Clearly to no avail. Judging by the marks on his face and the blood pooling at his abdomen, he had put up some fight against his assailant.

'This corpse has been dried of its blood, just like the previous victim.'

Turning back to the lamp, he noticed an empty gin bottle—clearly from the crate that was nowhere near full anymore—and a handwritten note tucked neatly underneath the base of the lamp to keep the wind from taking it.

"What’s this? Some sort of note?"

'30th October

From: G. McCullum

To: Docks Patrols

Object: Multiple deaths in the docks region. We believe a nasty leach is involved. Locate the beast. Purge it and quickly.

Warning: According to recent reports, this vampire is very violent. Approach with extreme caution, I know we lack men in this part of town, but dont send rookies to investigate the case. If i’m correct, we’ve got a frenzied one killing each night. As always search abandoned places first, like old houses, basements, sewers, or warehouses. Destroy the leech, brothers!'

"These men, they’re a company of professional Vampire Hunters?" And these were the same men chasing him? It felt almost ridiculous to say out loud.

Rising back to his feet, Jonathan took one last glance over the boat.

"Blood and empty gin bottles. This Bishop fellow is something of a heavy drinker." With that, he turned his attention back to the trail of splatters on the ground.

'There are blood splatters on the other side of the canal. I must reach that barge…'

And somehow he did. He wasn’t sure how, but it was as if he became weightless—he pretty much did. His corporeal form dissolved into a puff of dark smoke, and when he became whole again, he was on the other side.

The sound of a bottle being smashed somewhere in the distance rang out. The nose-crinkling smell of the water now behind him and the rain showing no signs of stopping were all normal things—but the blood splattered up a board that led him onto a platform was not.

The blood smeared a path towards an already open door to a warehouse, and he could sense more of those bastards who had hunted him earlier. Now he was alone, with no saviour to pop out of the darkness and rush him into an abandoned hidey-hole. But this time, he was ready. He was sure of it.

Creeping from around the corner, one of those Priwens men had his back turned, sniffing through a crate. The rusted machete was in his hand before he could think. He swung, landing a swift blow down the man's back.

Not initially lethal but enough for the man to stagger, and Jonathan took the chance to deliver the final blow.

'𝘒𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨.'

It really wasn't.

Deciding to see what the man was looting around for in the crate, Jonathan opened it again, inside were some shillings, some small pieces of scrap mental, and a pile of bullets—24 to be exact.

"Ammunitions crate. Good, I might need a lot of bullets. I feel like I'm back on the front line again." He chose not to dwell on how that last thought had choked him. He pocketed the lot.

Two more men stood watch outside the warehouse. One was a big fellow clutching a flamethrower—Jonathan remembered those from the trenches too; maybe that was why the man seemed so comfortable wielding it. The other was shorter and leaner, checking the bullets in his revolver before turning to his companion.

"Y'know I hope something happens soon. I'm dyin' of boredom out 'ere."

The other man let out an amused huff. "I like the shrieks when they burn." Holding his weapon up as he said it.

Having heard quite enough, and with the blood trail leading past them, Jonathan descended upon the pair. A "Fucking hell!" were the dignified last words of the bored man. A few more shillings and bullets found their way into Jonathan’s pockets.

"We won't see anymore of these bastards back 'ere again!"

And as always, there were more.

======

Sorry that I've took so long to update, and that this is dragging with William part out but I just wanted to put out a quick chapter for now while I work on the rest, since I've recently got back into Vampyr again. (Attempting to 100% it after putting off embracing people for so long 😅).

Hope it wasn't too bad anyhow!

Ao3: Hoodedboy79

[hoodedboy79]

Vampyr Masterlist

(Jonathan Reid x Male Reader)

=======

Part 1

Part 1

First attempt at a proper fic for a good while so bare with me if it's a bit crap lol. -(Male Reader)- ========= Ever since the beginning

Part 2

Part 2

Jonathan deserves more content (and better GIF's) 😤 -(Male Reader)- ======== "No!- Please!- I mean you no harm!" What? Head snappin

Part 3

Part 3

This is my favourite chapter I've wrote ngl. -(Male Reader)- ======= The stench of decay hung in the air, mingling with the acrid scent o

Part 4

Part 4

-(Male Reader)- ======== Jonathan barely had time to compose himself—or hide anything—before the door swung open, revealing his 'companion

Part 5

Part 5

Not my favourite but hopefully I'll get part 6 done soon. -(Male Reader)- ========= The docks were never quiet, even at this hour. Water

Part 6

Post by @hoodedboy79 · 1 image

💬 0  🔁 0  ❤️ 1 · Part 6 · -(Male Reader)- Sorry it took months for me to update this, this chapter is mostly in game dialogue to push the s

Part 7

Post by @hoodedboy79 · 1 image

💬 0  🔁 0  ❤️ 0 · Part 7 · -(Male Reader)- Just a quick chapter to show that I haven't forgotten this! Or my account in general tbf. ======

[hoodedboy79]

Part 5

Not my favourite but hopefully I'll get part 6 done soon.

-(Male Reader)-

=========

The docks were never quiet, even at this hour. Water lapped against the embankments, chains rattled on ships moored further downriver, and a few drunken voices carried from alleyways where men pissed against walls and swayed unsteadily in the dark.

Jonathan would be safe enough in the Turtle. Tom Watts wasn’t the sort to ask questions unless you gave him reason to. The poor sod looked like he’d had the worst night of his life—probably had—but that was none of his concern now.

He needed to get back.

Edwina didn’t take kindly to him disappearing for hours on end, even if it meant dodging the Priwen or keeping their little operations from getting tangled up in the wrong sort of trouble. She liked to know where he was, what he was doing, and more importantly, if he was bringing back anything worth the effort.

His boots scuffed against the cobbles as he rounded a corner, ducking into one of the many maze-like back alleys of the East End. The stink of rotting fish and coal soot was stronger here, mixing with the acrid bite of damp brick and piss-soaked wood. Not the worst he’d smelled, not by a long shot.

He passed a slumped figure wrapped in rags, face half-hidden under a threadbare cap. The man barely stirred as he walked by, too lost to drink or hunger to care. The streets had always been like this to varying degrees but now it was the most common sight, and not just in the East End—the war had seen to that. Too many men never came back, and those that did often wished they hadn’t. Easier to drown yourself in gin than try to claw your way back into a world that had moved on without you.

The hideout wasn’t far. Just past a set of old warehouses, tucked behind a half-collapsed tenement that no one had lived in for years. A convenient place to keep out of sight, though it meant sharing space with rats and the occasional desperate bastard looking for shelter.

When he reached the door, he gave two sharp knocks, then a third, slower than the others.

Silence.

Then the scrape of wood against wood, followed by a muttered curse and the faint shuffle of footsteps. The door cracked open, and a pair of sharp eyes peered out from the gloom.

“Finally decided to show your face, did you?”

Edwina.

The door swung wider, revealing her scowling face framed by the dim glow of a single oil lamp. She stood with one hand on her hip, the other gripping the edge of the door, looking him over like she was deciding whether or not to brain him with something heavy.

He grinned. “Miss me?”

“Thought you'd got yourself done in.” She stepped aside, letting him pass before shoving the door closed behind him. “You been pissin' about all night, or did you actually do something useful?”

“Bit of both,” he admitted, pulling off his hat and shaking out the damp. “Ran into some trouble with the Priwen. Bastards were swarming like rats near the old warehouses. Had to take a few detours.”

She folded her arms. “And?”

He shrugged, moving toward the small table in the center of the room, where an assortment of odds and ends were scattered—things they’d nicked, things they hadn’t found buyers for yet. He reached into his coat pocket and tossed the few shillings from earlier onto the table with a clatter.

“Got these off a body,” he said, nodding towards it. “Not a bad haul, if you ask me.”

Edwina glanced at the coins, then back at him with a raised brow. “Yeah, well, good thing I ain't. That all? No jewellery? Not even a bleedin’ ring?”

“Not every stiff comes gift-wrapped, darlin’.”

She gave a short, dry laugh, rolling the shillings between her fingers. “S’pose it’ll do—for now. If they weren’t still wet with blood, I might’ve thought you’d actually earned ‘em.”

He smirked but said nothing.

Edwina flicked her cigarette ash into a tin, setting the coins down with a careless clink. “If I find out you’re bringin’ heat back here, I’ll have your guts for garters.”

“Since when do I cause trouble?”

That got him a look, sharp as glass.

Fair enough.

His thoughts drifted, unbidden, back to the man he’d left at the Turtle. Posh accent, doctor’s hands, looked like he’d been through hell and wasn’t sure if he’d come out the other side yet. Wouldn’t last long in the docks, not looking like that. Not unless he got real smart, real quick.

Didn’t matter. Not his business.

“You done gawpin’ at the walls?” Edwina muttered, watching him through the haze of smoke.

“Long night.”

She scoffed, flicking the last of her cigarette into the tin. “They’re all long.” She pushed off from the table, nodding toward the far side of the room. “Get your head down. You ain’t no use t’me dead on yer feet.”

He tipped his hat at her, smirking. “As you say, boss.”

She muttered something under her breath, shaking her head as she left into the street, most likely to go and see Booth—not something he was going to mention, he enjoyed his life too much to do something so suicidal.

He let out a slow breath, dragging a hand down his face. He’d think about the rest tomorrow. For now, he’d sleep and pretend, just for a little while, that none of it mattered. Pretend that his mind didn't keep going back to that doctor—and wondering if he'd be reading about the bloke being found gutted in the streets outside the Turtle in the morning paper.

But again, not his business.

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This is also available on my Ao3 (under the same username).

Hope this wasn't too bad!

Finally figured out how to do a masterlist 💀