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crimsonbastard · 1 month

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I made you into My Pet

Been a while since I wrote some one-shots (I write them, show it to my smut reading friends but I never posted them on Tumblr or any other website.) This one is about the pairing Hector X Lenore or Lenector for short from the Netflix Castlevania series which is one of my favourites. Despite the Pairing being inherently unhealthy and Problematic I just can't help but become enthralled by the skewed power dynamics, basically I know that its wrong, so its fiction so I enjoy it anyway (for the moral police). I'm open for constructive criticism on this work given that you won't be a hateful waste of space. Enjoy!

PS: I'm a novice at making GIFS so please excuse me.

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Sick

That's what Hector felt once he exited the council room. Or for the lack of a better word, thats what he felt when he got dragged out of the council room by the woman who viciously betrayed him hours ago, as she led him down the hallway, gently holding his hand as he wobbled along behind her.

Pangs of nausea circulated throughout his abdomen. His mind on overdrive with the recent overload of information dumped on his already overstimulated mind. He could feel the gears of his head turning as he processed this new batch of information, he felt his temples burning, he thought if this continued further he would see steam rising from his head as he replayed the voices in the council room mere moments ago.

"These are slave rings, one of them found it's way to Hector's hand when he was swearing his loyalty to me"

"Oh my God you've adopted him"

"Turns out he's fairly good at sex and I want to train him"

"Shush the real people are talking"

His breath quickened and his head, hurt and heavy. Thinking was a luxury that he could no longer afford as he felt his legs give out from the icy breeze of Styria's night sky. He fell on his knees. His hands on the ground. His shivers forming clouds in the freezing wind. The torches in the hall way flickered as he tried getting back his bearings. Time and space seemed disjointed as everything around him became immaterial. There was only the aftershocks of the piercing pain he felt a few hours ago, when he foolishly pledged his life away to her.

He wanted to scream, scream his heart out, do something, anything. But all he could do was whimper as the reality of his situation dawned on him. His hands trembled on the cold marble floor in the hallway leading away from the council room, he could see his knuckles get pale as they rested on the white marble, the veins of his hand moving ever so slightly as he shivered. His eyes, so fixated on his shivering hands that they did not register the glint of a small, inconspicuous ring of black and red, resting gently on the ring finger of his left hand.

Slave Ring as Lenore called it. The Instrument of her betrayal, and his damnation. Such a small, unassuming thing. When Lenore visited his cell a few hours ago and beckoned him to join her on the rug that she brought along by patting on the empty space beside her, he never noticed it. It was only when she placed her hand on his and intertwined their fingers was when he saw it. Such a small thing. It was never on her before, during her nightly visits to his cell, thus it was only natural for him to ask.

"I never noticed that ring on your hand before. Is that new?"

"Oh, this small thing? It's a symbol of what binds me and my sisters together. The night and the blood. The four of us wear it"

She playfully showed the Red and Black coils that rested on her finger as she nestled closer to him. Before she changed the topic.

A neat sentiment, he thought. A Kingdom ruled by Four Powerful Vampire Women wearing matching rings, a symbol of their sisterhood and reign. Only for it to come crashing down as the cold hearted truth pertaining to the small insignificant object that now rested on his finger reared it's head in the council room, mere moments ago.

"When Hector forges a Night Creature they're loyal to him. But now, he's bound to me through the magic of these rings. When he makes a Night Creature, they're loyal to him, and he swore his loyalty to me so they're loyal to me too"

"These rings are linked, you wear them and his creatures will be loyal to you too. And if he ever tries to harm us, take the ring off or tries to run away the ring will cause him so much pain that he would think he shat out his own heart"

Hector was so lost in his hopeless retrospection that he couldn't notice someone's arms gently resting on his shoulders. He could make out dainty fingers tracing the sides of his delts as they rested gently on his clavicle. A woman's hands. And he could only think of one. The one responsible for this brief measure of peace in his hellish imprisonment, and also, the source of his greatest downfall. He could see a small yet regal frame come closer. Dressed in a Dark Shade of Blue, complementing the Styrian snowy sky overlooking the hallway along with a full White Fur Cloak, resting on her shoulders. He dared himself to look up, what met his gaze was divine.

Her doe eyes with irises of pristine rubies accentuating with the torches flickering in the hallway looked down on him. Her waist length hair, a Fiery Blaze, with two locks falling in front. Her porcelain skin adorned with a slight pink on her cheeks. Her smile-

Her smile, one that exhumed a warm nurturing aura, one of the first things he noticed about her when she visited his cell for the first time. It was so reassuring, it made him be at ease, making him let his gaurd down.

Aquamarine Eyes lost themselves in her gaze as he lost himself in the trance. The flames of rage that he so thoroughly fanned and nurtured in the council room almost died out, leaving an ember of what was once an inferno. Suddenly, he felt cold hands shifting from his shoulders, gently making their way to the underside of his jaw and eventually resting on his cheeks as she looked down upon him.

Vampires were cold, yes. They were a type of an undead. Their hearts didn't beat and they didn't require human food to survive yet they enjoyed it for solely recreational purposes. They needed Human Blood. It was their source of nutrition. The rush of Vitality they get once they taste the copper flow through their throats cannot be matched with any earthly source of sustenance.

Yet her cold touch could still elicit a wave of pleasure through his body. Her mere closing of physical distance between them was enough to make his cheeks flush a deep shade of red. Her thumbs drew circles on his cheeks bones and he felt his heartbeat quicken, pumping blood throughout his body. Especially to his member. He began leaning in to her touch.

Before things could escalate Hector felt the cold touch of Lenore's master ring hugging his cheekbone. He steeled himself yet again. The waning embers of his dying resolve reignited into the inferno that was his fury. His soft eyes narrowed as he grimaced. His features, sharper than ever.

He swatted her hands away from him as he ephemarily got back his bearings. He got back on his feet and instinctively took a few wobbly steps backward, away from her, like a prey backing away from a predator. His mind still reeling from the shock. His breath, shacky. Lenore did nothing. She cocked her head and watched him curiously with her Doll Face.

His voice, now a raspy timbre, shot back.

"You tricked me and made me into your slave!"

The horrific realisation of his fate had now been given a physical existence as he worded them out. The brief control of his body that he regained started slipping again, he wrapped his arms around his stomach as he braced himself. His footing betrayed him again as his legs gave out and he fell on his knees on the cold marble floor yet again.

Lenore, ever so in control, smiled again. It was not a malicious smile. Not the kind that one gives when they best their opponent through deceit and treachery. But the warm, kind smile when you've helped someone out of the goodness of your heart. When you do good for someone because you like them. The kind of smile that made your face radiant, with Warmth and Understanding.

"I did no such thing"

She walked towards Hector's crouched body, with a warm smile and her arms extended.

Hector couldn't see her. He was busy clutching the ring on his left hand. His eyes wide and his breath shakey as the implication of the object that rested on his finger, finally dawned on him. He grabbed a fistful of his own silver locks as his raspy voice announced his defeated realisation of his fate

"You made me your slave! My life is over"

Lenore heard his heart race, the shortening of his breath, as well as the ever so slight tremble of his muscles in tension as his chest rose and fell with each shakey exhale.

She saw him clutching his beautiful silver locks, almost tearing them. She saw his long handsome face drown in a miserable expression as he tried catching his breath. She couldn't bear to see her silly pretty boy having a panic attack over something he had not yet fully understood. She wanted to do nothing but hold him, ease him into this, and make him finally understand that this wasn't damnation. He'll understand, in time. She will patiently make him understand, as many times if need be. And in time, he will be hers, forever .

"Your life is saved Hector"

Her voice, gently refuting his laments. As she wrapped her arms over his crouched figure. Resting over his shoulders. He hated how at ease he felt. He hated that her touch made him feel relaxed as his heartbeat and his breath returned to normalcy. He felt her left hand traverse his Silver hair as she gently grabbed the back of his head and massaged the scalp. He didn't dare to look up, eyes transfixed on his knees that rested on the white marble.

"In fact I gave you what you really needed"

She spoke again, with a hint of excitement, as if she were to reveal a surprise to him that might somehow make him feel better. Hector felt her other hand gently glide to the underside of his jaw and eventually rest under his chin. Gently nudging him to look up at her and meet her gaze.

He met her. Doe eyes shining, like polished rubies, they sparkled with excitement as she finally unveiled what she planned for him all along, with a voice of suppressed excitement.

"I made you into my Pet!"

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johaerys-writes · 2 years

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Fandom: Castlevania

Pairing: Hector/Lenore

Chapter 8: Nothing Sweeter of my Season 3 Lenector fic is up! The sisters spend some time together at the banquet Carmilla has organised, and then Hector and Lenore go for another walk which brings them closer.

Read on AO3 | Read from the beginning

Her sisters are already waiting for her by the time Lenore makes her way to the baths. She wastes no time before letting the servants undress her and approaching the water. It is scented with bergamot and lavender, the warm smell enveloping her as soon as she sinks in. The steam that rises makes the carved marble arches of the bath sweat and gleam in the dim, trembling lamp light.

“Think about it,” Carmilla tells Morana, leisurely swirling the wine in her glass. “All you would need to make a country yours would be to take over its countryside first. Kill whoever resists, make serfs of those who don’t. Problem solved.”

Morana laughs, nestled against Striga's side. “I don’t think it’s that simple, Carmilla.”

“Nonsense. Whoever controls the food supply, wins. Just bring those fuckers to their knees. Doesn’t matter if they have the strongest army or the best weapons; they’ll be begging you for a scrap of bread in a month.”

“That is not how anything works!” Morana protests. “But I admire your confidence, as always.”

“I’ve taken part in sieges that lasted for months on end, Carmilla,” Striga adds. Her head is resting against the marble lip of the tub, two cucumber slices on her eyes. “Some would rather eat every rat in the city’s sewers than give it over to the enemy. It usually doesn't end well for anyone.”

“What would you do, then?” Carmilla asks.

Striga frowns in thought. “If it’s a unified country? Attack the head. Mount a great charge that would leave them squabbling, then pick the pieces apart. Risky, but the payoff’s usually worth it.”

“Spoken in true brutish fashion, like a real warrior.” Carmilla holds her glass up, and a servant runs to refill it. “Where is the elegance, the wit, the cunning?”

“I am warrior,” Striga grins. “What did you expect?”

They’ve always done that, the four of them. No matter how the conversation starts, it eventually devolves into them talking about how to take over the world. It’s a way to pass the time and indulge in extravagant fantasies, no matter how seriously Carmilla seems to take their mental exercises at times. The way she leans against the smooth, white marble now, her snow white hair clinging to the curve of her swan-like neck, with her aristocratic features and that regal tilt of her chin, one would think she is ruling the globe already.

Lenore sighs and relaxes in the warm fragrant water as her sisters entertain themselves with dreams of domination. A servant brings her a cup of rich, dark wine and she takes a generous sip, rolling it around on her tongue. As much as Lenore enjoys those games too, there is something else that’s occupying her thoughts right now. Or, rather, someone.

Her first walk with Hector went better than she had expected. She had almost anticipated him to be difficult, to try to do something reckless as soon as he was given his first taste of freedom— or, rather, when he would be reminded of what lies just beyond his grasp. But she was surprised to see him so acquiescent, so responsive. He had taken so well to the leash. Despite what Carmilla’s done to him when she’d last put him in it, Hector had followed Lenore calmly and obediently, had listened to her carefully as she spoke; he’d even apologised to her. She couldn't have been more satisfied with his progress if she tried.

The memory of Hector’s face, illuminated by starlight, and his sweet blue eyes focused on her with undivided attention sends something warm and pleasant curling inside her. Every time she sees him, she’s more and more surprised by how much she enjoys being around him. She likes the quiet way in which he speaks and the contemplative quality of his gaze, that rosy blush that dusts his cheeks whenever she draws near.

The way he shivers when Lenore puts the collar on him. He does look good in that collar, she thinks, and indulges in a small, secret smile behind the rim of her glass. She can't wait until she sees him in it again.

Read the rest on AO3!

#castlevania #netflix castlevania #lenector #lenore x hector #hector x lenore #lenore #hector #hector/lenore #johaerys writes #blood roses in the snow

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