game of thrones vampire au ficathon

[bronson]

game of thrones
vampire au ficathon
a ficathon. for game of thrones. but they're vampires. plot twist!
anything goes.
except sparkly vampires, because that's not cool.
yay have fun.

Comments

[cruelestwarfare]

She hisses at him, and her fangs retreats; she pushes herself off the limp body, and really hopes he's just passed out, because she hates it when they die on her after just one feeding: it's like a man going limp inside her mid-fuck. "You know you like it," she says, approaching the newcomer. He grabs her and presses his body flush against hers, kissing her ferociously, feeding on the stranger's blood that was still on her tongue, on her teeth, caressing every inch of her mouth with his tongue. She pulls back with a smirk. "Get your own," she teases, pulling up the corset that had slid dangerously low, covering all it was supposed to cover. "What is it? You know why I close the door, Jaime."

Jaime is infinitely older than her, but he wants little to nothing to do with 'Bloodline' business. He only comes for her. He is her blood brother in the true meaning of the word: Tywin's blood runs through his veins as it runs through hers, but Tywin had turned him hundreds of years before her. Cersei and Jaime owe Tywin their lives, but even more so they owed them to each other.

"A young man," Jaime says, his eyes travelling hungrily over the sleeping (honestly, he better not be dead, motherfucker, I'm not nearly done with him,) form on the pavement. "He's willing to pay to be let in the private rooms." Cersei is fixing her make up, wiping the blood on her face, but she turns around very slowly, and she raises an eyebrow at him. "Thousands of dollars, he said," Jaime continues, finally tearing his gaze from the blood and dragging in upon her sister. He knows her well enough to know she will not be amused if he feeds on her prey.

"It's fifth one today," she purrs, applying a coat of pink lipstick and smacking her lips together. "Sounds like a buffet." Cersei is about to walk away when he grabs her wrist again and pulled her in for another kiss, sucking at the corner of her mouth. "I suppose I should thank you," she says. "Couldn't have me walking out with blood on my face, could we?" She pushes him away, playfully, and walks out the door, leaving Jaime alone with her dinner. He kows better than to fuck wth her food. It takes her very little to cover the distance from her office to the door that enters the main room. When she does, it's like Elvis just walked into the building. She is used to it, so instead of walking quickly through the crowd, she stops and lets them look; she even puckers her lips and pushes her chest forward.

I am the blood-sucking bitch in town, keep that in mind.

[2/3]

[cruelestwarfare]

With her hands on her hips she stalks across the room, and when the small red door comes into view she smiles; her strides get longer and quicker, until she's there, and the tall, black man sees her and nods at her. Cersei nods back and stands at his sides, looking to the smug-looking boy standing there with his arms crossed. He wears a leather jacket and has dak circles under his eyes. She notices immediately the credit card he seems to be holding just for show, as a warranty that his promises were not made out of thin air. A young, rich boy who snorted too much coke: typical. She listens as he goes on and on about his trust fund, which he has recently inherited because of his parents' death. Her eyes light up at that, because it's always better to choose people with no family that will go looking for them. He is a little shit, and she doesn't feel sorry when she takes his credit card and slides it in her corset with the promise to give it back on his way out.

Cersei opens the door and links their arms together, as if she was tagging along on a walk on the beach. The backroom of 'Bloodline' is dark, the walls are black and so is the pavement, shining; on the left, a simple wall, on the right a row of other rooms, with doors just as red as the one they just walked in. She can hear faint moaning, and gasping, and whining coming from behind them, some of them women, some of them men. She knows exactly who is in each room, and she knows exactly what they like. "Is this some kind of brothel or shit?" asks the man, eyes wide and darting to the doors. "Is it like that movie, 'From Hell'?"

"Kind of," Cersei says, standing back and sliding her arm from his. "What is your blood type, dear?" she asks, sliding a fingernail down his cheek, then his jawline and down his throat. He seems taken aback, and she shrugs. "I have to ask. If any kind of health issue should arise, I must know what to do with you." It's a really good excuse, especially because drunk people and idiots generally seemed to believe it, even appreciate the concern. He mutters that he is a B negative, and she nods. "Yeah, I was under that impression."

She opens the last door, and the boy at her side stands there petrified; her grip on his forearm grows vicious, and he tries to pull away but she is stronger, so much stronger. Inside the room is a man, a young man with lovely, shining blonde hair. He would be beautiful if it wasn't for the long canines dripping blood and the corpse on the bed. the boy screams, but she pushes him in, and he all but flies into the opposite wall. The client looks at her and smiles a bloody smile. "Two in the same night?" he asks. "Must be my birthday."

She laughs, but it is covered by the screaming.

"Then happy birthday, Viserys."

[3/3]

[impossibility]

CERSEI FOR BEST VAMPIRE MOM 2012

[gingaginga]

+1