Takes place in my vampire harem, basically flashing out how each member met John
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The sacred vow of marriage- through sickness and health, no not even death can make us part
jervis's blonde hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, he's shaking like a leaf in his Deathbed and with every passing moment the blood that would be coursing through his veins is spilled from him via his mouth, but he does not fear the death that will come after this last flow of his plasmidt's exiting
He's giddy for the momentary Eternal sleep he will go through, for when he wakes from that sleep that should be his death, he will be changed, and he will be wed
At first he thought that his encounters with his husband to be, were merely dreams spurred on by his loneliness, that was until the dark figure of his dreams bit him in one such, and he woke bearing the engagement Mark of that dashing figure that visited him each night
He weeped profusely when he was not visited the next night, and grew quite frightened after the first pangs of blood hunger rang through him like a Requiem Bell, God he can remember so vividly how loud everyone's heartbeat was, he could smell the Sweet Life Giving liquids through their veins, it smelled like the finest ambrosia
But enough of recollecting, now he purchases himself of his sweet human nectares one last time, when the last drops of Amber life slipped down his chin he pulls back from the puking Basin he was spilling into
When his head hits the pillow he listens to his own heart slow and stutter to Sweet silence, and closes his eyes, before Darkness takes him he feels the calloused hand of his beloved slip into one of his
He knows when he wakes the terrible blood hunger will be all consuming, the foolish doctors his parents had sent to his abode will act as his and his husband's wedding cake
...
The first vow of servitude- your name is whatever your master chooses it to be
The fairy in the cage doesn't have a name, not anymore, not since it was captured by those horrible Backwater Twins and thrown into this iron prison, it would punch at the bars but the pain that stems from its bare skin touching the iron they are made of out greatly outweighs the urge to make it anger known via violence
But the greatest pain that comes from this new existence, is the eyes, walleyed simpletons looking at him, calling him horrible names, names he would be gaining power from if it wasn't for that stupid look but no touch rule
The great urge to violence becomes too much and really back one of his fists and packs it into one of the bars, quickly taking it back at the sting of burning iron flooding his system
" poor dear" a voice bearing similar Southern drawl to one of his captors Rings through the room his cage has been sequestered to, with a chill in the air tell him that this is no ordinary mortal man, maybe he was Mortal at some point but not anymore
He turns to see a towering figure a face draped in shadows, even when the figure steps more into the overhead light of the flickering bulb of the room, his face still hides beneath the shade of his wide Brim preacher's hat
" a creature was no name, is a creature to pity indeed", the man places a sympathetic hand onto the fairies shoulder, the spark of potential power drums through him like the beat of a heart in coitus
" well would you do me the honors of giving me a name, and maybe you could tell me yours" the fairy prompts and the low chuckle that comes from the man's non-visible mouth sends a shiver up the creature's spine and straight into his wings, which flutter as he blushes a deep green
" you can just call me King darling, and I'm going to call you Morgan" The Surge of power that comes from this new title makes the fairy let out a tingling cry of pleasure
" now let's get you out of that stuffy cage", and with that the man rips the door of Morgan's cage off its hinges and the fairy bolts out of the room to take his delicious Revenge on those horrid twins
...
The second vow of servitude- always refer to master by their preferred titles
Hell is a lot like Earth in many ways, though there are some differences it's a lot more red and crappy down there, and it's not just the sinners being tormented that are having a bad time, Lilith can attest to that fact very much
Just a simple lesser Incubus scraping by the best he can, being fed by the lusts of naive Summoners that can't even pronounce his true name correctly, and they never have anything good to eat in their fridges after he's done sucking out their souls
And what makes it worse is that his boss always yells at him when he comes back with their prophetic souls in hand, God that stupid clown wasn't more powerful than him he tell him straight to his face that maybe he should send him up to seduce a real sorcerer sometime
He would have continued thinking of all the things he do if he was more powerful, but that familiar pulling motion of being summoned shakes him from his imagination, and was a burst flame he's pulled up from the pits of hell to somewhere else
He has to admit he wasn't expecting such a lavish looking summoning room, and he sure as hell wasn't expecting such a handsome Summoner, take a deep breath he attempts to walk forward seductively to his Summoner but bangs into the wall of his Circle
" I wouldn't try that, I'm not as naive of the people you've been sent to before" the man's voice has a sprinkling of a Southern drawl that sends Lilith's heart beating like a drum in his chest
Coughing in his fist he drags his hands down his body seductively and begins to speak," I take it we're going calf to set some ground rules before I can" he pauses to drag a hand sensually across the invisible barrier separating he from his Summoner," get my hands on you sweet Summoner"
" that would be correct little Incubus, and the first is that you will refer to me as Daddy" something about that order clicks into his brain like it would in order from his terrible clown of a boss, oh yes calling this man daddy sounded like the most natural thing to do
" second of all, you're mine now" the man says that with a growl in his voice which paints a bright pink blush onto the incubuses cheeks
" yeah Daddy I'm Yours" saying that felt as easy as breathing, but then a sudden thought comes to him
" but Daddy, I sort of got a guy to report back to, preferably with your soul" the incubus says and the man Chuckles the sprinkling of Southern in his voice becoming stronger in laughter
" well darling, after tonight you won't have to answer that guy no more" Lilith consents the imitating lust from the man, the power he'd gained from feeding on the last of a true sorcerer would make him a powerful Incubus indeed, and he purrs I thought of being able to stand up to that clown
"now come give daddy a kiss" and the incubus is allowed to cross the barrier and they do kiss, and that first taste of true sorcerer lust is addictive
...
The final vow of servitude- obey a new master like you would an old one
Renfield doesn't remember who he was before he was the loyal servant of the great Demon's head, he thinks his name might have started with a J and that he might have been an archaeologist , but that was a long time ago
but he does miss it, sure what he remembers it was a boring life of digging up dinosaur bones, and maybe the occasional ancient spear tip, but dusting through dirt would be a lot more exciting than just sitting around and waiting for his master to wake up from his daytime naps
He used to be allowed outside to bring his master food, but the ancient creature had grown paranoid and recent decades, something about a vision of being destroyed by a fellow of his kind
But all who found themselves in his sleeping Chambers were but lowly peasant humans, no threat to him, though he would not say that to his Master's face lest he be slapped again like last time when he tried to Quail the demons fears of Destruction
He feels the pull of sleep at his eyelids, he knows he shouldn't, he knows he'll be beat for it when his master wakes to see him asleep, but something about the noise of the Desert Crows outside of the Sandy tomb he spent lifetimes in, acts like some sort of Macabre lullaby, and no matter how much he tries to keep his eyes open the noise just takes him deeper
He jolts to wakefulness when something cold and metallic tasting is pressed against his mouth which was open and slumber, he knows in an instant it's the blood of a vampire, his eyes Dart to his master's resting place, they are the demon head though he's was out his head, he's still smoldering corpse feels the air was burning death
Renfield's eyes search the room, his eyes see his master's murderer standing in a corner, but any negative feeling he could have about the man is quickly dashed from his mind when the drop of his blood from his bloodborne vile splashes on to the man's waiting tongue
"Ven, vámonos, mi querida mascota", Renfield doesn't know what language his new master is speaking, but he knows what to do, the glow of his new Master's eyes puts him back to sleep as he's carried off into the desert night like a bride to the threshold of their life together
The song of the Desert Crows like a wedding march