agoodyarn | a vampire au for ceaselesslabor

a vampire au for ceaselesslabor

Vampires are immune to every illness, can heal from any injury, withstand almost any damage... other than ennui. The vampire who's only heard himself called 'master' for far too long, whose terrible power rolls before him and sets others of his kind trembling...

Is absolutely no different in this regard.

He is ancient and terrible and he has a great court within the city that bores him to tears. Which is why he'd snuck out from their compound and gone, of all things, bar-hopping. Thus meeting Arthur and his partner.

It had been simple enough to get his partner out of the way; a call to one of his court had the man bundled up and carted off, a snack for later. The lack of a companion had made luring Arthur to the back entrance, the one with the alleyway, the one he could enjoy a meal in peace in, even easier than it might have been.

...and then he'd tasted the man's life. Tasted the depths of sorrows in him, the death that surrounded him, the strange shining light, dim and flickering but unwilling to go out, that was the shape of his soul.

Which was why, feeling almost possessed, he'd found himself ripping his arm open and pressing the bloody wound to Arthur's pale lips.

And now, here he was, his new fledgeling in his bed, waiting for him to awaken. He had stirred earlier, only enough to be hungry and only enough for the familiar scent of his friend to guide his fangs where they belonged. He'd been proud as he watched Arthur drink the life from him with the same gusto that he'd tasted himself. And now, the connection to his old life severed, he'd be ready to share the night with him truly.

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Arthur vaguely remembers the night. Parker had suggested it; he always does. Who was Arthur to say no? Who was he to tell him that he couldn't? The drinks had been poured again and again and only there, at the bottom of that bottle, could he truly find peace and satisfaction.

Parker left. Arthur left. There was the feeling of someone's arms around him and then everything went black.

He wakes up now with a sweet taste in his tongue, like the delicate cocktails they serve to the people with money. He's not in his own bed with the dent in the middle and the creaky springs, but he's not in Parker's, either. He opens his eyes immediately, sitting up with dizzying speed and looking around.

He doesn't remember how old he is. He doesn't remember what life he lived before he was a vampire, the human he must have been. He doesn't remember his master: there are, in fact, any number of things that he does not remember.

But he remembers that waiting always seems to take forever when one is excited for a new childe and he has not been so excited for a childe as he is for this one for a very long time.

Thus Arthur will see a large man, dressed in biker leathers adorned with far too many trinkets for how silently he can move, perched near by the bed. His hair is dark, as is his skin, but his eyes are a glowing golden color that no natural eyes have any right to be. When he speaks, there's no indication in his voice, but anyone looking at his mouth will see the slightly over-long canines he bears.

"Something the matter?"

He'd looked very sated before he'd settled back down to rest and finish his transformation.

His eyes quickly adjust to the darkness and he lets out a yelp at the sight of the man.

But of course he's not a man. Arthur had a case like this once. Parker said he was crazy for taking it on, but a man had come to them desperate and afraid and Arthur couldn't resist. His son had disappeared and he was afraid that he had fallen into some blood drinking, cannibalistic cult. They found the boy, shaken and naked in the woods, rambling and ranting about vampires.

It was all dismissed as nonsense, but there's something about those fangs and those eyes that Arthur recalls now.

But that doesn't stop his protests. "Did - did you kidnap me?" he hisses, recalling a dream where he had been so, so thirsty. He drank deeply from a deep, sweet well. He can still taste it now.

He raises an eyebrow. Kidnap? Well, there is an argument for the fact that he did. He considers.

"Technically, it would be theft. As you were a corpse when I took you." Beat. "Of course, I made you a corpse, so you might be more concerned about the fact that I drank your blood until you were on the brink of death before that."

He offers a smile.

"Or you could ask about why you're not dead."

"W - what?"

He goes cold, but he realizes that he was always cold. His heart is still in his chest and he hasn't taken a breath except to speak since he woke.

He reaches up instinctively and touches the fangs that he hadn't noticed until this moment.

"What did you do to me?" he demands, practically leaping out of the bed.

His voice turns syrupy and fond; he can't help it. Look at him! Moments into his new life and he's leaping around ready to claw someone's face off. It's beautiful.

"I gave you what you wanted. And what I wanted, after I knew you a little better."

Mmmm. He stands up now and Arthur will get to see just how tall he actually is, even as he moves like a housecat from next to the bed towards the door.

"...you're not going out like that, are you? There's fresh clothing right there on the table."

"What do you mean? I didn't want this!"

He looks to the door and then to the table before down at himself.

Breathe, Arthur... he tells himself. There has to be a way out of this. If he can get out, then he can find help. He can figure it out if he can find Parker.

"...going out where?" he wonders, not relaxing even an inch.

"Well," he admits with a turn of his hand, "I wouldn't advise you to go far, given that the sun is out."

He steps a little closer now.

"But you do have full run of my house, of course."

He can't help reaching out to touch his cheek. Clean a little smudge of blood.

"Let me be clear: you are a vampire. I am your master." A pause before he continues. "And what I gave you is eternal and everlasting life, as well as the means to protect that life."

He glares up at the other man, not flinching at the touch. He's still, a marvel statue. Unmoving and angry.

He forces himself to breathe. Unnecessary fir living. Essential for being calm.

"Why - why did you do this to me? And what did you do to Parker?:

He's distracted by the way Arthur looks in a rage; it's lovelier than he'd thought it could be, the bright spark of rage at the back of his senses like a bonfire. But the question has him blinking in confusion.

"What did I do?" A shake of his head. "Nothing. I didn't touch him." Once more, firmly. "I'd never take him from you." A fond smile. "Reach. Think of him. You'll feel him there, inside. Always with you."

It's a confusing enough statement that Arthur withdraws, just a touch. He doesn't remember anything about him. He remembers Parker leaving and that's it.

He -

There was -

No. He was in the dream. The dream he had of the well. Arthur focuses on that moment, looking past the man and to the bricks in the wall. Parker was in his dream, telling him not to drink. How had he forgotten? Parker had yelled at him. Screamed as he drank, but Arthur didn't stop. He had grabbed at him, held his hands, but Arthur kept drinking, driven by instinct he didn't have before.

"Oh god..."

All the fight goes out of him and he reaches up to cover his mouth in horror, hands shaking.

He lets him go through the process, sympathy clear on his features.

"He accepted it by the end," he says softly, "when he realized what it meant. That you would live. He struggled, it's true but... he died peacefully."

"No," he repeats again, shaking his head. "He didn't...he didn't have to die."

It might be tempting to lay guilt at this man's feet, but he chooses this moment, this time, to take it all on himself.

"Get out," he tells the creature. His master. "Get out."

His 'master' looks genuinely confused for a long moment, because of course he did. He was human. They all die. But he'll nod and he'll move towards the door.

"You should keep reaching. There's more than just his death there, Arthur."

But he'll say nothing more before he dips his head and slips out of the door. He'll be outside once Arthur's ready.

He slides down the wall and sits with his legs stretched out fir a long time. He doesn't move, too paralyzed by what to do next, too overwhelmed by the information.

He's dead. Parker's dead. He is a vampire. Parker is dead. He is stuck in this house. Parker's dead.

He killed Parker.

He finally stands and dresses in the clothes on the table. They fit him exactly, and he wonders why he isn't even surprised by it.

Eventually, he opens the door.

Edited 2025-11-19 19:42 (UTC)

The hallway is empty. He's now in the hallway of what is clearly a very large home. Arthur will hear a familiar voice at the back of his mind.

Three doors down on your right.

If you want to see me. But the bathroom is right across from you.

He straightens, panic flooding his mind as the unfamiliar presence settles its voice there. "Don't do that," he complains and goes across to the bathroom, splashing water on his face and shoving his fingers in his hair.

He doesn't know why he's shocked at his expression in the mirror. Too many vampire movies. Too many reasons to not see anything. He inspects his teeth, the enlarged canines, his pale face and blood still on his lips.

He scrubs again, sighing.

But he feels better as he emerges and walks to the door the man told him to go to.

Edited 2025-11-19 20:06 (UTC)

He'll feel it in the back of his mind, the other man's fondness and delight. It's no act, how happy he is to see him up and walking around.

When Arthur walks in, it's to see his master laying on a couch, a book placed down to turn his attention on Arthur with obvious joy.

"I didn't realize it would upset you, Arthur. I'll be more careful about speaking to you that way. I promise: I'm not trying to upset you."

He sits up a little and offers the rest of the couch to him.

He stays standing, his arms by his side. "It's - it was just a shock. You've already done whatever you want with me so...maybe start asking."

He doesn't sound angry about it anymore, at least. A thousand thoughts cross his mind, but most of them are just focused on what next. What happens next. He looks around the room, walking the perimeter to inspect it.

"You still haven't told me your name."

The room itself is far less ostentatious than Arthur might have presume something like this would be: it's decorated in autumnal colors, warm and inviting, and filled with shelves and shelves of books, movies, and music. An old record player sits in what is clearly a place of honor in one corner, and the edges of all of the above are split and worn; the whole place is entirely lived in, even if it's all good quality.

"Because I don't have one," he says easily enough, smiling over at Arthur. "Well, I suppose I did have one, at one point. But I don't remember what it is. Memories drift and fade as one lives. I don't even remember when I remembered having one. Usually, all I am called is 'master'."

He watches Arthur pace around.

"You can give me one, if you want. If it would make it easier."

Edited 2025-11-19 20:51 (UTC)

There is no way in hell that Arthur is calling him or anyone else 'master.' It's absurd. Ridiculous. Not to mention, a little gauche.

"You're just a John Doe, then," he remarks lightly. "I - I can't just give you a name," he says, reading over the list of movies, though the record player catches his attention almost immediately. He does not, for a single moment, turn his back on the other, though.

"'John Doe'?" A smile. "I suppose I can use that." He watches him looking around but doesn't comment. Instead- "You can call me John. Does that work?"

"That's not a name. It's..
Fine. Alright. John it is. Might as well."

Any name is as good as any other. Every name is better than Master.

"I - didn't think a vampire would be the sort to watch films like this."

That has him popping up from the couch, walking over to look at the shelf that Arthur's near. He keeps his distance, doesn't touch, but he smiles.

"Why not?"

He's noticably more alert when he gets closer, but he isn't afraid. He's wary, ready to pounce if need be.

"All these vampire films," he says. "Didn't think you'd need to keep up with the culture of it all."

a vampire au for ceaselesslabor

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