Ask Yourself: Would Copia Or Swiss Or Aether Or Terzo Or Mountain Or Rain Or Omega Or Phantom Or Cumulus

Ask yourself: Would Copia or Swiss or Aether or Terzo or Mountain or Rain or Omega or Phantom or Cumulus or Dew or Secondo or Aurora or Nihil or Cirrus or Primo or Sunshine treat me this way?

If not, it’s probably time to move on.

Keep your head and your standards high everyone!

My Heart, Entombed Ch. 1

A little Vamp AU because I felt like it. On AO3 too! WC: 2.310.

Summary: A simple Ministry hazing ritual sees young Copia stumbling onto the sarcophagus of one of the Ministry's past leaders, awoken and hungry for submission.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Dare, Hazing, Cemetery, tomb, Vampires, Vampire Turning, Vampire Bites, Character Turned Into Vampire, handjobs, Secondo and Copia are not brothers, blood, vomiting.

Copia trudged through the empty cemetery. It was nearly midnight. He had no idea why he had agreed to this stupid hazing-dare-whatever-it-was. He was just a newly fledged seminary student. Why did the Ministry seminary have to operate like some kind of ridiculous fraternity house? He tugged his cassock tighter around himself and stuffed his hands into his robes, trying to keep out the chill.

An enormous mausoleum loomed in the distance. Its ornate stone carvings cast shadows on the ground, illuminated like some kind of grotesque mansion by the moon's silvery light. He tentatively tried the iron handle. It was freezing cold against his warmed hands.

The door gave way with a sickening creak. He flushed in embarrassment even if no one was around to hear such a terribly irritating sound. The mausoleum was shadowed inside. The single window high up in the wall cast the moon's cool white rays onto the only thing in the lofty building: a flat, bench-like tomb.

Some of the more senior students at the Ministry had dared him to go into the cemetery at midnight. They said that you had to go to the large mausoleum and sit cross-legged on the sarcophagus and repeat the magic words three times. If you managed to survive, then you were sure to pass all of your classes for the rest of your term.

Copia didn't really believe any of that horse wallop, but he had wanted to prove to some of the more headstrong boys that he was at least on an equal footing with them. He couldn't back out now. He jumped as the door shut behind him with a clang. He wanted to rush and try the handle, to make sure that he wasn't stuck in here. But a shiver lanced up his spine and he took a nervous step further into the mostly-empty room.

He ran his fingers over the edge of the stone casket reverently. It really was quite beautiful. Venetian marble. Must have cost a fortune. He braced his hand on the top and hauled himself up onto the lid, sitting cross-legged like he had been told to. Copia sighed, closing his eyes. He should just go. This entire thing was probably one big set-up and they were all back in the common room, laughing it up at his expense by that big warm fire while he was here freezing his balls off.

The willowy young student steeled his nerves, clenching his fingers into his palms to try and keep warm as he whispered under his breath. "Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary." The silence was cut through with an owl's haunting trill and Copia jumped at the sound. But nothing happened. No zombies banged at the door. No bats flew at his face. No rats scurried in the corners, squeaking their presence. He was slightly disappointed at that. He actually liked rats.

He was just about to hop down and head back to his room, willing to tell the other boys anything that would make them believe him, when the lid started to rumble and shake so violently that he scrambled to the floor, slipping in the process. He was shaking, back against the cold wall, staring wide-eyed at the dislodged lid.

A skeletal hand, covered in papery pale skin gripped the edge of the tomb, pushing aside the stone cover as if it were made of balsa wood. The marble crashed to the floor and Copia nearly jumped out of his skin as a rough, gravelly voice, hoarse from disuse, echoed from the bowels of the sarcophagus. "Would you shut up with that, you twinky little shit? Who taught them to say that? So annoying!"

The freshfaced student stared as a corpse-like old man sat upright from reposing in his tomb to stare with deep-sunken eyes at Copia. A gasp caught in the young man’s throat. This thing looked like he used to be quite handsome in his alive days. Copia wasn’t even sure that he was alive right now, as he watched him climb gingerly from his frigid vault.

“Why are you still here anyway? You haven’t run like the rest of them.” Copia tried to swallow but his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. The creature approached him. He no longer had the safety of the sarcophagus between them and his flight instincts were finally kicking in. He scrambled to stand up, pressing himself as tight against the wall as he could.

If he dared to run, the monster would surely catch him either way. So Copia tried to reason with the undead creature. “They dared me to. I didn’t mean to disturb you. I swear.” Copia’s palms were sweating and he wiped them self-consciously on the front of his robes. The creature’s smile was fiendish and predatory as he stalked closer to the frail student.

He caught Copia’s chin in those long dangerous fingers. “I don’t believe you.” A sinister snarl rumbled from the creature’s mouth and Copia yelped as fear shot through him. “I think you’re here seeking something more than just vapid approval from the rest of your peers. I think you’re here for true power.”

The flash of sharp fangs made Copia cringe but the monster held him possessively by the throat. He struggled, clawing helplessly against the strong hand pressing him against the wall. The fight soon trickled out of him and he resigned himself to his fate. The more he struggled the worse it would be.

Copia was staring his death in the face; lips trembling, eyes wet, trying to be brave about it. He flinched as that skeletal hand pulled at his collar, exposing the milky line of his throat. The monster's cold dead breath made his skin crawl. His fingers scraped against the stone wall, willing himself to be anywhere but here, trapped in this fiend's embrace.

 The first prick of those deadly teeth made him thrash and then still, a sudden damning realization that there was something primal, something intoxicatingly arousing about this whole situation. He wasn’t supposed to be enjoying this! The hand tight against his throat. The way this creature easily overpowered him with his strength. He could feel the chilly press of the vampire's body through their clothing.

His eyes had slipped closed, feeling the sticky warmth of his pulse seeping from the wounds in his neck. The feeling of those lips on his skin, smeared with his own blood, sending a sudden jolt of pleasure down between his legs. His heart pounded as the life drained out of him, drop by drop. The vampire released him and Copia collapsed against the wall, weak and pale.

The vampire on the other hand looked healthy and refreshed, the student's blood smearing his mouth like the finest wine. There was something about this unholy creature that seemed suddenly familiar. The monster licked his lips, leg still braced between Copia’s thighs. The outline of  Copia's blatant excitement strained against the front of his robes. He couldn’t have hidden it if he’d wanted to. “Ohh, so that’s how it is. Seems you’re a fan of a little pain now and again…” The vampire’s lewd smirk made Copia flush with the blood he had left.

Realization finally dawned on him. This was Secondo. One of the Ministry’s old leaders. How was he here, like this? Alive and yet dead? Looking as debonair as his ancient painting in the foyer; the sunken cheeks and skeletal hands replaced with an almost blossoming youth. He was ravishingly handsome.

The vampire's touch against his throat was halfway to human warmth and Copia's swimming eyes tried to focus on those sharp features. Secondo's fingers brushed against the bulge between Copia's thighs and the young student's voice was a bitten-back moan. "Nngh-!"

"You're a sweet little thing. Still so young. Virile. Of course the barest promise of pleasure would get you going."

Secondo's chuckle was laced with poisonous promises and Copia was drowning under that dangerous touch. He wouldn't admit it, but this small act of desire was flaring his blood like nothing else. He rasped out a shaky breath as the vampire's fingers slithered the folds of his robes apart, one degree of separation closer to the prize between his legs.

He tried not to imagine those sure fingers grazing over the sticky head of his cock. How they would feel pumping him in time to his own weakening heartbeat. Slow and steady strokes that would make him feel even more light-headed than he already was.

"Do you want it? The touch of my hand against your rigid flesh? So supple and alive." The zipper of Copia's trousers was loosened as if by magic; those warm fingers sliding against his length. A gasp caught behind Copia's teeth as Secondo's lips, swollen and stained with his blood, grazed the side of his throat.

"Ohhh…" The young man's resolve was faltering, pulled beneath the waves of this monster's crushing, all-consuming lust. The vampire's tongue dragged heavy and warm against his pulse, riling him up even further. This was getting dangerous. Copia had done the stupid bet and gotten his comeuppance. He needed to extract himself. He had to get out of here. But those kneading fingers, that intoxicating mouth. Sweet Lucifer, he wanted to stay.

Secondo swiped up a generous glob of prejack from the head of Copia's shaft and lifted his finger to his lips, that pointed tongue lapping his digit clean. The young man's eyes were halfmast in unbridled lust. "You taste sweeter than I thought you would. Your blood too; syrupy." The vampire made a show of dragging his tongue across one pointed fang, their gazes locked. Copia's knees wobbled, thankful to have the wall supporting him.

The monster dug his hand back under the folds of the young man's cassock, gripping him in those strong fingers. Copia's voice came out strangled and desperate. There was no longer any fear in his eyes. He needed this. He needed whatever Secondo was willing to give him. The creature's blood-warmed body was practically flush against his and he could feel that hard sex bumping against his tense thigh; making him throb with renewed arousal.

"You haven't yet seized the power within you,” the creature began. "It lies dormant, like a hidden vice. Just waiting to be awoken by the right catalyst. The right spark."

"But I don't even-mmgh!" Copia's voice was stopped up by Secondo's infernal kiss, those sharp fangs digging into his lower lip. The vampire's grip was iron-like against his dripping shaft and Copia flushed as he felt his cock throb in the vampire's sure hold. He was teetering on the edge of his climax, lulled into submission by this perfect, teasing pressure.

The vampire pulled away for the briefest moment, those silvery-white eyes staring into the young man's very soul. Copia hunched forward, bowing under the weight of this creature's dark desire. Secondo placed his bony hand against Copia's kiss-bruised throat, watching his eyes flutter from arousal and blood loss. The young man's marred throat fit perfectly under his palm, his pulse weakening by the second. He was as pale as death.

The creature eased his hold on Copia's length for a second, piercing his own tongue with one sharp fang. He kissed the young man then, squeezing his shaft; mercilessly pumping him dry as he spilled a mouthful of dark, viscous blood past Copia's lips. The young man struggled for a moment, his fear spiking again even as he swallowed in order to gasp, his milky seed coating the vampire’s knuckles. "Guugh! Ahh!"

Copia was panting, an indecent thread of bloody saliva slicking the side of his mouth. The monster still looked at him with an unguarded hunger, but the vampire’s hand was loose against his throat. “You’re free to go. If you wish. But know that you will see me again. Whether you want to or not.” 

Secondo took a step away from the wall. Copia was free to make his way back to civilization, no longer trapped among the dead. He caught his breath, taking another lungful of the mausoleum’s acrid air. His freedom seemed more like a threat as he blearily made his way towards the doors. He had enough lucidity to stuff himself back into his trousers before opening the door, escaping into the chilly night. Copia stumbled back towards his dormitory, hoping not to meet a soul.

He made it back to his room and stripped off his cassock, stained from the wound on his throat. He felt sticky and sore as he wrapped himself in a towel, hurrying to the bathroom. He took the hottest longest shower that he could, washing and rewashing himself; trying to get the stench of death off of his body. He examined the small puncture wounds on the side of his neck, touching them gingerly. Thankfully they had stopped bleeding. They seemed practically healed already.

He fell into a dreamless sleep when he returned to his room, collapsing into bed, utterly exhausted. He slept through the next day and into the night, waking up absolutely famished. He felt sick and achy, as if being up in the cold last night had affected his health somehow. His mind shot back to his encounter with that creature. Secondo. Those dangerous fingers; that infernal mouth. His shaft gave a weak throb in response.

Copia tore off his sheets, standing to unlatch the window. He let the cool night air caress his flushed skin. The night seemed to carry new scents on the wind; the rummescent aroma of rotting leaves, the smell of turned earth, dark and fragrant. He could have stood here, looking out of the casement all night. Until his stomach suddenly turned and he lunged for his wastebasket, heaving up stomachfuls of thick coppery blood.

Something was wrong.

General fandom reminders fandom is about having fun right??? i'm sick of some of ya'll

A Mary Goore commission for the very lovely and talented @da-rulah!! This particular Mary stars in “The Mayor’s Daughter.” It is such a delicious read—do yourself a favor and check it out. Excerpt under the cut. ♡

“Wanna try something new. Get over here, doll,” he instructed, beckoning you over. You rose from your seat, closing the distance between you both. He leaned back onto the sink, folding his arms over his chest as you got a little closer than necessary, stood between his feet and leaning your hands on the edges of the sink. Mere inches separated you, and you waited for him to continue.

“That’s a pretty shade of lipstick you got on tonight,” he flirted, pulling your bottom lip down with his thumb and inspecting the red residue that lingered on it when he pulled back.

“You should recognise it, not the first time I’ve worn it for you.” If he remembered right, he’d know you wore it the first time he’d snuck in through your bedroom window; the same pretty shade of blood red. “You asked me back then if I thought it would look good on you, and then you kissed me.”

“I did, didn’t I?” he mused, feigning thoughtfulness. “And it did look good on me...” You giggled at that, and it damn near sent Mary to his knees right there and then. He would never get fucking tired of that giggle. “Have you got it on you?” he asked, before he could get too distracted by that pretty little sound.

“Of course,” you said, patting the little purse hanging from your shoulder and down by your hip.

“Good, you might need a touch up when I’m done with you,” he smirked. “Think you can make some pretty little lipstick marks for me?” You nodded, moving in to kiss him immediately but he stopped you, his finger on your lip. You pouted, sagging your shoulders.

He pulled his finger from your lips and pointed it to his cheek bone, where the black met the white of his thin and chalky paints. You took the initiative, and stood up on your toes to reach, planting a very deliberate kiss to the area. When you pulled back, you marvelled at your work; the prettiest lip stain sat where you’d pressed your lips against him. Mary turned his head to look sideways into the mirror behind him, smirking at the transfer.

“Perfect, need more though,” he said, turning back to you and pointing now at his jawline on the other side of his face. You obliged eagerly, lingering just a little longer this time and pressing your body against his where he leaned on the sink. You could feel his body tense under you, like he was trying to act cool and aloof but fighting an urge rising inside him...

“Can I choose a spot?” you teased by his ear, letting your breasts press into his chest just a little...

“Choose wisely, doll...” he warned, with no real warning behind it whatsoever. But you already had a spot in mind...

Read the rest here! Don’t forget to leave comments and kudos! ♡

crazy how fanfic authors drop the most beautiful and gorgeous pieces of work ever, leaving you speechless and sobbing at three in the morning as you quietly contemplate the masterpiece you just read

and they don’t get paid for it they just do it because they’re having fun and they want to share their joy with you

like I would literally die for all of you fanfic authors out there reblog to swear your allegiance to fanfic authors