I knew I'm supposed to work on my other fanfics v_v" but Damien started her "20 days of AU!HawkSilver" challenge and some of the ideas just suit me fine, so I decided to open this up. I'm on vacation the incoming week so I'll have a lot of times on my hands to do some writing on the other stories as well. I'm sorry I have to work with the /Flashback/ thing again but the mobile rich text converting isn't working!
So enjoy the prompt of day 2: Vampire!Pietro (and added by me Mate!Clint)
It was a rather cold day when the Avengers attacked theirbase . Snow flakes fell from the heavens , coating everypiece of earth in a fake layer of silence and peace . Thebiting cold of the sokovian winter might have been aproblem for other humans but Pietro barely felt it. He wasused to feel cold and numb for a very long time. AgainstStruckers' commands Wanda and him had snuck out thesafety of their quarters to face the invading foes . A rush ofwinter air tangled in his short locks and he breathed incuriously . The air was tinted by something sweet , a thinlayer of something he couldn't put his finger on. He cockedhis platinum blonde head to the side when he noticed theirritated gaze his sister threw him . " You smell that ?"
The brunette woman closed her eyes, otherwise lightened up in bloody red welcoming the incoming thrill of the hunt, and sniffed before shaking her head. Maybe he had been wrong, the foreign smell gone as fast as he appeared. The older sibling brushed it off and they headed out into battle - their goal clear: destroy the enemy.
/ Flashback /
Pietro remembered the moment he was born - well the moment he was born again to be precise. He woke up lying in the dirt, facing the stars that he could see clearly through the destroyed ceiling of the house, a sharp pain shooting through his his neck and shoulder as he began to move. Wanda... he had to find Wanda! The young man came strangely slow to this feet, the world around him like a slow blur, only catching up seconds behind him. A head injury maybe. But it didn't matter what it was - the instinct to find his malinki sestra was stronger than anything else and urged him to go on. The streets outside were empty, littered with debris, leading down a path of destruction. No house seemed to be intact, torn humiliated remnants of people soiled the ground in a reddish-brown, fires still churning in some ruins, tainting the air with the smell of ash, blood and death. Pietros breath caught in his chest at this sight - the little town he grew up in, his home swiped from existence within the matter of hours - when he noticed he it didn't bother him in the least to not take a breath after the other.
A hot fear shot through his body, paralyzing his limbs and flooding his mind with images of his heightened senses - sharp, too sharp even in the dark of the night, noticing every tiny detail, to be considered normal at all - made him press his hands to his head, trying to block out everything in the vain hope this might be nothing but a bad dream. No shadowy figures crawling into their village, no blood freezing screams, no sharp pain in his neck as one of the intruders caught him in an impossibly tight hold before throwing him straight trough the wall into a building...
A cry ripped itself from his chest after the search for others survivors failed, annoucing his pain to the night and anyone that was willing to listen. His knees gave out, no longer having the strength to support him and he sobbed in silence when his throat was raw from screaming, terror still fresh in his bones. Everything was lost, anyone he ever knew was gone... and Wanda, oh Wanda... after their parents had died years ago, the both of them barely more then children he swore to protect her and now-
"Pietro?"
The soft voice startled him out of his shock and his lips moved but no words came out. A few meters away there she stood, his beloved little sister - battered, bruised, her dress torn, shaking like a leave - blood and tears blotching her face but still alive. Pietro never knew he could move this fast but mere fragments of moments later he held her in his arms, craddling her tight while she cried quietly against his chest. Soothingly he stroked over her hair, mumbling soft nothings in the vain try to calm her down, talking her out of her shock.
"Pietro I-I can't... my heart isn't beating..."
He knew - he had known since his fingers graced the punctured wounds in the smooth skins near her shoulders - but he just held her tighter and kissed her hairline. "It's alright Wanda... we'll be alright, I promise.". That night they left their childhood home, disappearing into the depths of the sokovian forests, never to return there again. Time went on and on for everyone but them and half a decade later the nowadays called dark ages came to an end.
/ Flashback end /
Led by the sound of explosions it was an easy task to pin their enemies position down. They agreed to split up, doubling their chances land a suprise attack so he went for the main group of the team. Noticing one of them hidden behind the trees, shooting an arrow (really? A bow and arrows? That was so like centuries ago) at the closest bunker, waiting for a detonation that never came as he plucked the explosive projectile right off the air. The human had a good aim but that's the most that he would get. Speeding towards him it was easy to knock him off his feet, a groan leaving the other as he connected hard with the ground and he slowed down to a stroll, a amused smirk in place, "you didn't see that coming?". What he didn't see coming at all, was the moment when the man rose from the ground, anger radiating from every pore and the hideous coat of his was pushed aside and revealed a little more skin - emanating the delicious scent he picked on earlier, awakening a deep lust within his body to sink his teeth into flesh, marking it. The startled vampire decided it was better to backtrack here and sped away - confusion over what just happened lodged deeply into his body.
Later that day, savely returned to one of their hideouts, he decided to tell Wanda about it. His sister listened carefully, a thoughtful look on her face before she found an answer, "This is indeed a tricky situation but...maybe he is your chosen one bratjez. It would explain why I can't sense it like you do...". A snort left his lips at this and he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning on to the wall next to him, "my 'chosen one' Wanda, really? Did you see him? He's so... old! And ordinary. Besides we came to term that this 'shosen one' thing is just a fairytale.". The female vampire just shrugged her shoulders but smiled a little like she knew some more. "Well we said that because it never happened before. And he isn't like 20 anymore but you can't say he is not attractive... and you certainly know a way to make his aging stop, don't you?".
Pietro opened his mouth to disagree but his sister was already retreating to her room, closing the door pointedly after her to emphasize she didn't want him to follow, so he just grumbled to himself. This whole thing was silly to begin with - the Avengers were their enemies, a danger to their safety, they needed to be destroyed. But the sole memory of that scent drove him up the walls, made him hungry for blood and his fingers aching to touch tanned skin.
The encounter replayed in his head - sharp features set on him, definitely well built arms hidden under that gruesome piece of cloth flexing to work the bow in mere seconds. The archer had to be more than just normally trained to fire such a big bow that easily and he'd love to let his fingers wander of the vast expenses of skin of the compact body, caressing the muscles lying beneath, dipping into their well defined contures and calling forth a strangled groan like last time but in a more pleasurable way. He would nip softly at the skin of the older man first, savouring his taste and feel the life throb below in his vein before sinking his teeth into his throat tasting the red liquid that promised to taste just as sweet as his smell...
He ripped himself out his imagination and cursed this whole situation as well as his far to tight pants. This screamed trouble like a mile away - but he knew he had always been one for trouble and danger in those sheer endless centuries he lived through. They'd have to wait and see... at least time he had more than enough of...
- End -