From pet to master

I am Dragos. Vampire. Fisherman. Master.

[blaine-aldridge-deactivated2015]

❝ Hardly. ❞

[xxdragosxx]

"Then for why do you look?"

[jeremiel-boese]

"To be honest. I could give a shit. You’re still entertaining. But even more so naked."

[xxdragosxx]

"How would you know? You have never seen me in that way and you will not. I do not take my clothes off for wolves I do not know."

[saltzmanvampire]

"Oh I certainly can think of a few flattering things for you, it is part of the reason you’re interesting. But really am I gonna tell you something you haven’t heard at least a thousand times before?"

[xxdragosxx]

"Only in this city have I heard it so much."

[xxdragosxx]

[saltzmanvampire]

"I sit in a cage for most of my day, not to sound rude but a leaf blowing around on the ground is interesting right about now."

[xxdragosxx]

"How flattering, but I understand."

[jeremiel-boese]

"Should I be offended for being called strange?"

[xxdragosxx]

"I do not know. How do you feel? Are you offended?"

[saltzmanvampire]

"I don’t think entertaining is the word but… interesting maybe?

[xxdragosxx]

"Interesting? How so? You do not know me."

[jeremiel-boese]

"Yes."

[xxdragosxx]

"You are strange."

[xxdragosxx]

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"Am I entertaining?"

[xxdragosxx]

[xxdragosxx]

Morning After

[galonuhesgi]

   He should be used to it by now, the way the vampire smells, the way he acts. But it still catches him off guard. Something has shifted between them. It’s gradual and slow but he doesn’t bristle as much anymore when he sees the vampire looking at him with that stupid peculiar look on his stupid fucking face. It bleeds over with the full moon and the wolf that prowls the house is no longer fixated with ripping apart the corpse at his back but rather the corpses and humans running around outside.

   When he finally comes to, it’s familiar yet strange being so comfortable. Normally his body aches and pain lances along his bones as if they’d all been shattered apart only to meticulously piece themselves back together. What is odd is the soothing cool bleeding through the thin fabric of shirt.

   Dragos is so strange it makes his head hurt sometimes.

   ”If you wanted to fuck me you should’ve just gone for it. Might’ve been good having me complacent under you for once.” Vash finds himself muttering into the pillows. Fingers twist into the sheets and with some small effort, the wolf pushes himself upright and out of the clothing a little too big for him, casting a brief sidelong glance at the vampire. The shirt lands on the floor and his thumb hook in the jeans, tugging them off without much ceremony and grateful he could just wiggle and kick them off somewhere. Vash hears the thick thud of denim hit the ground and crawls back under the sheets with a grunt.

   ”You seriously need to stop giving me that look. I can’t decide if it’s fucking aggravating or— well just christ would you fucking stop treating me like a bomb?” It’s half-exasperated and half-muttered as the wolf turns back onto his stomach, arms curling around the pillow under his head and eyes sliding close. “I’m not gonna bite if you touch, jackass,” the wolf huffs out in a quiet mumble and very nearly dozes off once more.

   He tells himself it’s not because he feels safe or anything. He convinces himself that he’s not craving those cold fingertips against his fever warm skin. Thank god Vash is the best liar he knows.

[xxdragosxx]

What is being said is the last thing the vampire expects to hear and his falls away to rest on the bed. "If I wanted sex, it would have happened. You should know that by now I do not wait for your permission. Complacent means nothing." For too much of his life, being complacent was never an option for him, so much so that it's a wonder Dragos knows the meaning of it. The master doesn't take it to the extreme level that was taken upon him. His touch is rough, sometimes a little too rough, but it's the memories of his own enslavement that keep him from going overboard.

He watches as Vash moves and eliminates his clothing, feeling the body heat from where he was. The wolf is only there through renting but the vampire has long since claimed him in his possessive mind. His form, those muscles, the tattoos lining and contouring around them, his attitude and being unafraid to speak of what's on his mind. It all belongs to Dragos and nobody will tell him differently.

"What do you mean? I am not looking at you in any way." He tears his eyes away with Vash back in the bed beside him, but dry humor takes him over for a second.  "Are you not a -- how is it they say-- a ticking time bomb?" He doesn't mean the wolf specifically but wolves in general. The vampire remembers, it's imprinted in his cold brain. After the moon came some of his worst treatments, and for no reason at all. 

"I do not want to touch you." It's a lie. A soft spoken lie, or as soft spoken as the vampire can be. Did he do it wrong? He knows that he feels concern but maybe he expressed it wrong. It's not as though emotions and comfort are his forte. The wolf is exhausted, trying to drift off, and while he battles with himself on whether to keep trying to tend to him or let him be, Dragos doesn't let out a single sound or make any movements. He thinks back to when he was the pet for that pack, where he was made to lie there after the full moon, usually for the Alpha. "Don't get up. Don't move. You will know when I need you," he was told and Dragos knew better than to disobey or he'd get it worse.

The memory is blinked out of and he looks again at Vash. He's not that pet anymore and the pup isn't like them. He'll do what he wants. It's his very first time of initiating something like this, as usually he wakes to find Vash cuddled up to him, and he doesn't move away. Dragos shifts his bulky weight across the bed, under the blankets, until he's right beside his wolf. He's awkward, so awkward, but he pulls the pup in against him and holds him close. "You are burning up." It's the perfect disguise, using the after effects of the moon's grasp to -- cuddle?

[xxdragosxx]

Morning After The Full Moon

It wasn't the first full moon he spent with the Native American wolf but it was the first that the vampire felt comfortable and secure. The previous moon, Dragos got to see Vash take to a whole new side; Growling and bristling if anyone came close to the house and it was consistent for the most recent one. Usually when a wolf acts that way, it's followed up by the attempt to tear him apart or dominance proven.

The moon has since relinquished the pup and instead of leaving him lying where he was, Dragos carried him into the room. He gives the spot in his bed that normally the slave has to slip into during the night in order to even be there while the vampire allows himself rest.

He lays beside him, keeping a significant distance. It's not that he doesn't want to be close, but with his own harsh treatment for so long, giving comfort isn't within his abilities or what even crosses his thoughts. Dragos knows it's painful as he watches the pup and never before did he care when he witnessed the transitions of his captors, but something about seeing Vash suffering pulls at a part of the vampire that hasn't been accessible for a millennium's worth of time.

There's nothing to say as he peers at him from his own spot on the bed and without thinking, he reaches out and runs a cool hand along the hot spin of the wolf's back. Maybe it will help.

[xxdragosxx]

[xxdragosxx]

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"What?"

[xxdragosxx]

[x--heretic-blog-deactivated2018]

“That is one way of viewing the piece of a whole,” she says softly, a smile ever present even in the wake of his souring mood. “You view the world as a series of choices or doorways and the result as a thin line or a path.” There is an unheard dance to her steps, a waltz in the way heeled feet step across asphalt and cement. “A choice today could end in a closed door tomorrow. A broken path could wind up leading you to the choice of a lifetime.” She glances sidelong at him then, the smile fading to something far more somber. “Destiny is the illusion humans tell themselves so as to keep from cursing the gods for the path they themselves decided to set upon. Suffering begets strength, dearest. The strongest of us have suffered most for taking the hardest of pathways.”

[xxdragosxx]

The vampire is silent, his pace slowing. There is so much belief in her own words and not a lick of shame to be traced. Dragos knew this. He heard this before with the same feeling. The same voice that fools one to believe she is kind and harmless and then her fangs are deep. He scoffs as it dawns on him and he looks her over. It's very strange how dark skies and human eyes under the moon made her look as though she had silver hair but the eyes he remembers. "You cannot give someone a gift and expect it will be enough to get themselves free from a tormented path and onto a better one."

[xxdragosxx]