ϡ 〰 ➳

You've broken your chains—
—but are you really f r e e ?

🐦

Indie | Selective | Private
Clint Barton
aka Hawkeye

MCU-based w/ minor 616
Canon-divergent

EST. Oct 22 2014
Written by Skyler




bottom of the food chain

nomadiicc:

╳ ┅ 「 ☘ 」

image

.       red still collected in the crevices between his teeth, painting
        his amused smile as a TERRIFYING grimace. his fangs had
        been retracted already, tucking back up into his gums until the
        NEXT time he needed them.

        loki squeezed the hunter’s wrist briefly before stroking his
        thumb over the reddened puncture marks. it was an ALMOST
        affectionate gesture, made eerie by his intent and the strange
        INTENSITY in his gaze.

     ❝ oh i am FAR from done with you. but i will allow you your rest
        —-your BEAUTY SLEEP, as you humans say. do not get too
        comfortable. i will return when my HUNGER rises again. ❞

        his gaze BURNED, making it clear that hunger was not solely
        restricted to the lifeforce flowing through his veins.

image

   Though tired the archer may be, no amount of fatigue could make him
   misinterpret the light stroking of a thumb over those bloodied gouges,
   contrasting that brief squeeze prior, which caused him to hiss sharply
   and wince. It was so utterly BIZARRE, Clint couldn’t help but tilt his
   head up – to be met with a gaze piercing enough in itself, but with the
   SMOULDERING intensity with which he’d never seen before. It still
   screamed of hunger, but of a different sort; as if instead of drink his
   blood, Loki would rather devour and eat the hunter WHOLE.

   It only occurred to him then, several seconds later, that he’d just broken
   a very key rule – one of the most important, in fact – of hunting vampires:
   NEVER LOOK THEM IN THE EYE. Any mildly-intelligent human would
   know this; but his life had literally turned upside down, and now the monster
   that just bit him stroked the marks left behind, with a motion that bordered
   on tender. Even without the use of their abilities, a vampire’s gaze was
   magnetic on its own, and that HEATED stare p e n e t r a t e d into him,
   like a root digging into fertile soil. A shivering that was borne of neither
   hot nor cold went through Clint like a tremor, and then he’s aware of just
   what those eyes are saying– which prompts the hunter to forcefully jerk his
   head to break eye contact, warmth tinting tan cheeks.

   Out of the corner of his vision, the Hawk spotted his former weapon on the
   ground nearby. Free hand busied itself by stealthily crawling along the floor
   to reacquire the chiseled rock-knife he’d fashioned in desperation, hoping
   to do so without detection, while he responded to Loki’s promise-slash-threat
   with a low growl.

      “Tha’s too damn bad… ‘cause I was DONE wit’ ya th’momen’
       we met. Y’can bloody starve fer all I care!”

【 ✕ 】 ● 【 ✕ 】● 【 ✕ 】●【 ✕ 】 ●【 ✕ 】

bottom of the food chain

nomadiicc:

╳ ┅ 「 ☘ 」

image

.       sweet, HEADY, the crimson coating his tongue was ambrosia. it was so
        WARM, like the dimmest memory of a broth in his human years, just as
        filling. yet along with the salt and tang of copper came intoxication
        and SPICE. loki moaned against tanned skin, gripping him tighter. he
        could not bear to part from this feast now, greedily lapping at the blood
        that flowed from twin punctures.

        loki EASILY could have drained him dry in this very moment.

       not YET.

        the effort it took to withdraw was monumental, but loki was a KING of
        control. his lips were bright with the hunter’s blood when he pulled away
        before his tongue flicked out to catch every last droplet. waste not, want not.
        already he felt restored, some of the gauntness in his frame disappearing
        beneath healthy tissue and the dark BRUISES beneath his eyes fading.

     ❝ while you REMAIN here, you are mine. your blood is MINE. your only
        purpose is to sustain me. ❞

image

   For the next several minutes, the hunter could only stand there, equal parts
   paralyzed and petrified in his agony and HORROR. All he could comprehend
   at the moment, all he could feel, was pain; pure, unadulterated, intense and
   white-hot pain, as clear cut as a diamond and as blindingly vivid as the sunrise.
   Even after the vampire pulled his mouth away from the fountain of Clint’s life,
   the pain did not dull or fade in the least. It was only accompanied by a growing
   heaviness within his body, and the weakening of his knees in response. From
   what the archer could tell though, Loki hadn’t drunk his FILL; merely enough to
   sate the BITING thirst.

   When eyes opened again, the first thing they beheld was a tongue lapping up
   the stray droplets trickling down his half-gouged wrist, causing stomach to turn.
   The grim realization finally began to settle in: he was bitten. A vampire had
   BITTEN him– DRANK from him, even! That alone wouldn’t turn him into one
   of course, but it was the mere fact that one of the wretched m o n s t e r s he
   hunted and killed was now using him as a food source, to sustain its own
   unholy life. Never before had any damned bloodsucker managed to do that,
   though many had come close. And now Clint already felt weaker for it, while
   Loki already looked REVITALIZED.

   Overcome with his personal failure at avoiding this VIOLATION – of not
   only his body, but his very soul, and the rising fatigue from a loss of blood
   as well as lifeforce and the strength it supplied – the hunter couldn’t stop
   himself from collapsing on his knees to the ground before his captor.
   Arm still held aloft above him in the other’s grip, his free hand supporting
   himself with palm flat on the floor as head hung down.

      “…then it’s a GOOD thing I don’ intend… on remainin’ ‘ere fer long.

      Now— are y’fuckin’ done? ‘Cause I’d like t’get some damn rest.”

【 ✕ 】 ● 【 ✕ 】● 【 ✕ 】●【 ✕ 】 ●【 ✕ 】

nomadiiccc said: “ YOU SIT ON IT, YOU FUCKING PEASANT. “

shit my mom’s boyfriend has said

image

   Briefly startled by the sudden outburst, grey-blues gradually
   slid over towards the vampire in a purposefully-exaggerated
   motion, glaring at his captor ‘host’ for several seconds in still
   silence. Attention returned briefly to the chair where he was
   supposed to sit at table, and then back up to Loki.

      “I know wha’ a g’damn CHAIR s’fer, y’fuckin’ prick.
       I don’ wan’ t’sit ‘ERE.”

   Because obviously the other’s chair was right next to his.
   And who knew if his chair was booby-trapped? Clint didn’t
   trust this bastard for a second.

【 ✕ 】●【 ✕ 】 ●【 ✕ 】

bottom of the food chain

nomadiicc:

╳ ┅ 「 ☘ 」

image

.       the hunter’s aim was more skillful than any he’d ever encountered.
        he could see why this one had killed so many of his kind with the
PRECISION with which he struck, even in this heightened state.
        most humans would be cowering, begging for deliverance that would
        only come in their DEATH.

        it was not enough for loki to spare him. in fact, it only made him that
        much more PRECIOUS a commodity.

        lips twitched with satisfaction as fragile bones gave way beneath his
superior strength. he wrenched clint’s wrist harder, tugging him even
        closer to the fangs glistening and peeking from behind his thin lips.

     ❝ you are MINE to feed upon when i choose. blood will have blood and
        you have taken FAR too much from my kind. ❞ loki may not have had
        much love for his fellow vampire, but their lives were more important
        than these fragile humans.

     ❝ your struggle is for naught. it will only bring you further PAIN where i
        could have spared you the torment. ❞ he lifted the man’s wrist towards
        his mouth, sliding his tongue over his fangs. ❝ now, where were we? ❞
        with a hiss, he latched his mouth onto his flesh, fangs aimed to SLICE
        through and do as much damage as possible without killing him.

image

   Nearly all his life had been spent constantly practicing, and then the real thing.
   He slept, ate and breathed his profession; and Clint had his mentor to thank for
   his finely-honed skills and reflexes. The man who trained him was still the only
   hunter he’d not been able to surpass, yet; but his predecessor had faded from
   sight and knowledge for almost a decade now – one of many that had vanished.

   While the population of mortals far outnumbered that of vampires, the percentage
   of those humans who were actually capable of hunting and CULLING the undead
   was tiny, and their ranks were growing thinner and thinner every year. The slave
   trade was also becoming a much more popular, widespread practice amongst the
   vampire elite; and now that the INFAMOUS ‘Hawk’ had been caught in its trap?
   Clint could only see it getting worse; not only for himself, but for the rest of
   humanity.

   Another pained grunt vibrated in his throat as the archer was tugged closer to
   Loki, the merciless grip on his broken wrist sending a new wave of white-hot
   pain up his arm. It was almost enough to distract him from the glint of fangs
   peeking beneath pale lips – almost.

      “No matter wha’ y’believe, I don’ belong t’ya. M’not yer fuckin’
      PROPERTY! ‘N I know fer a fact tha’ y’damn parasites ‘ave
      taken far more blood from m’kind than we ever ‘ave from yers.

      –But don’ worry; I plan on evenin’ th’score there.”

   Before Clint began his training, his mentor made him take a vow; that he would
   never REST until all vampires were laid in their graves, or he was. When his
   training finished, the hunter renewed his vow, and it was a promise he fully
   intended to keep– or would DIE trying.

      “M’not naive ‘nough t’think–”

   Words caught in his throat as his wrist was forcibly lifted up to Loki’s mouth,
   steel-blue eyes going wide before the hunter quickly redoubled his efforts to
   try and free himself, despite the searing pain spasming all the way through
   his arm up his shoulder and down his side. The vampire was right, though;
   it was all for naught, as fangs tore into his flesh with animalistic BRUTALITY,
   causing Clint to throw his head back in a sharp cry of AGONY, while virgin
   blood was quick to ooze out of the human’s veins.

【 ✕ 】 ● 【 ✕ 】● 【 ✕ 】●【 ✕ 】 ●【 ✕ 】

nomadiiccc said: We are all dead. All equal. Broken and aimless and believing we are alive.

deathless sentences

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   Cold eyes of gunpowder blue narrowed at the vampire
   with those words spoken, features HARD and set like
   the stone walls surrounding him in this prison.

      “Some a’us more than others. ‘N if we were all
      ‘EQUAL’, I wouldn’ be here in this fuckin’ cell—
      would I?

      Save yer bullshit speeches fer someone who
      cares, vampire. Which– would probably be
      NO ONE.”

【 ✕ 】●【 ✕ 】

➳ READY: CONT. | ➳ AIM: @nomadiicc | ➳ FIRE!

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   The hunter’s eyes warily track every step closer that Loki made to
   sidle up next to him. Every muscle in his body is taut, tense with
   anticipation and a nervous ANXIETY that all of their kind brought to
   him; a reflex trained and ingrained into his system for SURVIVAL.

   Immediately he JERKS against at the other’s hand stroking down his
   side, upper half bare since his shirt had been shredded apart. Sadly he
   can do little else but snarl at Loki’s perverted suggestion, fists balling
   into tight fists raised above him, by the shackles BINDING his wrists,
   muscular arms kept forcibly hoisted above his head with the lengths of
   chain leading up to the stone ceiling.

      “ There’s no way I’d enjoy anythin’ y’do t’me, no matter wha’
         it was or wha’ y’made me ‘feel’. S’don’ even fuckin’ TRY it. ”

   Clint snapped at his captor, just in time to feel the raking of SHARP
   nails down the same path the immortal’s hand had caressed seconds
   earlier. Lines of ANGRY red developed in their wake, spliced with dots
   of crimson rising from the surface of his flesh. Loud hiss seethed from
   between clenched teeth, the archer jerking again in response to the pain.
   His head turned to level a dark, wordless glare at Loki beside him, lips
   pursing before he aimed to SPIT in the vampire’s eyes.

【 ✕ 】●【 ✕ 】 ●【 ✕ 】

bottom of the food chain

nomadiicc:

╳ ┅ 「 ☘ 」

image

.       a flash of fang and a dangerous smile was waiting to follow the hunter’s
        scathing words, but neither had the chance to show themselves. before
        loki could weaken his prey by feeding on him, the other attacked with a
        viciousness he had not expected. superhuman reflexes allowed him to
        jerk backwards so that the arrowhead only grazed his neck, leaving in
        its wake a thin line of deep crimson.

        a hiss like steel scraping over concrete left the vampire’s lips, irises a
        solid onyx in a mixture of hunger and fury. he would not be bested by a
        fragile human, fit only to sustain their superior race. he had been human
        once, so long ago he did not remember his own weakness, his ultimate
        frailty.

        several of the quick slashes scored across his flesh, some of them even
        slicing deep so the thick blood ( thickened by centuries of remaining in a
        body without a heart to push it through the myriad of veins ) began to truly
        flow rather than ooze, clotting before it could escape the wound. already
        he was healing, his tissues knitting together, and he glared at the hunter,
        waiting for him to tire while only expending the most inconsequential
        fraction of energy himself.

     ❝ cease your attack! your foolishness will only cost you. ❞ he snapped a
        hand out towards the mortal in an attempt to snare his wrist, with every
        intent of crushing the bones in his grip.

image

   Don’t look, his instincts said; don’t look. He wanted to though; the hunter
   wanted to watch every stab and slice his makeshift weapon managed to
   land on the standing corpse in front of him. He wanted to watch himself
   cut this bastard to ribbons – but that momentary pause, no matter how
   brief or fleeting, would be ultimately FATAL to his cause.

   Repeatedly, though, his strikes returned to the same spots; knowing that
   his opponent’s accelerated healing rate would make it that much more
   difficult to injure him, even if it were lesser due to the fact that he hadn’t
   fed in a while. Clotted wounds were repeatedly re-opened in an effort to
   encourage further blood to SPILL– until the undead growled out in protest,
   and caught his offending wrist in a frigid grip – hard, and cold like ice.

      “ Ngh! Cost me? Cost me wha’? Y’ave ‘lready taken EVERYTHIN’
        from me! Th’only thing I got left t’lose s’th’only reason yer keepin’
        me alive. I refuse t’be yer personal cattle farm. ”

   He hissed back towards the vampire, squirming in the vicious entrapment
   of that icy hand which was quickly tightening around his wrist. White HOT
   pain quickly flared up his arm, which made the stinging in his scalp feel
   like a dull ache. Clint tried to dislodge the iron hold with his free hand that
   moved to pull and push against Loki’s arm, but he froze and cringed the
   instant he both heard and felt the joint turn to dust in the vampire’s palm,
   involuntarily causing the archer to drop the carved arrowhead with a cry
   of shock and AGONY.

      “ F–Fuckin’…! Unghk… you… b–bastard… ”

【 ✕ 】 ● 【 ✕ 】● 【 ✕ 】●【 ✕ 】 ●【 ✕ 】

bottom of the food chain

nomadiicc :

╳ ┅ 「 ☘ 」

image

.       the hunter did not seem particularly weakened by his wait, much to loki’s
        disappointment. but it was not entirely a loss. despite the spirited words the
        man delivered, there was something in his posture that suggested captured
        prey. it was the flutter of wings of a moth trapped in the spider’s web and like
        the spider, loki would soon feed regardless of his captive’s struggles. he gave
        a soft laugh, no more than a huff of air, and then raised his brows.

     ❝ did that tirade satisfy you? ❞ the vampire refused to show this man his very
        real ire to think of how many had been SLAUGHTERED at his hand. not all
        of his kind were monsters, simply suffering from an incurable disease that
        made them seem that way to those who did not understand. but loki had no
        illusions of who he was. he lived to kill, lived for the warmth cascading down
        his throat in crimson rivulets as the light went out of his prey’s eyes. he was
        born to commit this kind of violence in the name of sustaining himself.

        without further ado, he crossed the distance between them rapidly, sinking
        long fingers into the man’s shirt and rending it easily into shreds. one of his
        hands crept upwards to SEIZE the short hair at the back of the hunter’s skull
        in a tight grip.

     ❝ i think i can make it EASY enough myself without your cooperation. ❞

image

   Hunger practically radiated off of the vampire in near-palpable waves, and much as
   he might try to keep calm and composed, Clint could see beneath the veil – under
   that quickly thinning layer of patience that his captor was trying to keep intact. It was
   well that he did too, for the hunter wasn’t anywhere near eager to be a snack for the
   vile creature to FEAST on.

   The lack of any visible ire or anger in regards to his mention of ending the lives of
   many other vampires proved irritating, not to mention unexpected. He was quite
   certain that the RAGE Loki would have shown was also being cloaked within that
   stony veil as well. Whether or not the hunter actually wished to draw it out was
   where his certainty ended, however.

      “ Satisfy me? Heh, not even close… but it’s a start. ”

   Shoulders rolled casually in place, as if he were just getting started; and perhaps
   he was. The archer definitely wasn’t done with the backtalk, that was for sure. If this
   bastard intended on keeping him prisoner, he would have to learn how to deal with
   his smart-talking mouth – which could prove to be just as effective a WEAPON as
   his bow and arrows. The moment he noticed Loki suddenly approaching him at a
   rapid pace was enough to SILENCE any incoming commentary in favor of trying
   to withdraw backwards in a panic; an effort even Clint knew was foolhardy.

   Cotton shirt was torn into pieces not even worthy of being tissues, exposing the
   hunter’s muscular chest and upper torso, but his partial nudity was hardly priority
   in his list of concerns, with fingers brutally curling into bronze strands and locking
   the human’s head in place. A light hiss of discomfort escaped clenched teeth, steel
   eyes flicking upwards to glare at the vampire.

      “ Figured s’much. Y’vampires ‘ave always been incredibly ARROGANT.
        –Yet between th’two of us, look a’ which ended up in their graves. ”

   Without pause, stone arrowhead was drawn from behind his back in a blur of motion,
   glinting briefly between their bodies as Barton attempted to slash the roughly-serrated
   edge against the other’s throat. He didn’t even wait to check if his surprise attack found
   its mark – instead moving like clockwork to the next, changing from a horizontal slicing
   movement to a downward, vertical stab. Repeatedly, rising and falling in a flurry of up
   and down; the first ten or so aimed for Loki’s chest, then, if he still had the ability to do
   so, moving further down to the monster’s stomach and continuing the ASSAULT, but
   forward instead of down.

   His goal was not to kill; no. The hunter knew he was currently unable to do that; directly,
   at least. But he could WEAKEN the vampire beyond what he was already, considering
   how long he had gone without feeding. Bleed him out until his wounds couldn’t heal, and
   his body couldn’t move; where he would be forced into torpor, and then Clint could finish
   the job — ONCE AND FOR ALL.

【 ✕ 】 ● 【 ✕ 】● 【 ✕ 】●【 ✕ 】 ●【 ✕ 】

bottom of the food chain

[ ID: LOKI ]

╳ ┅ 「 ☘ 」

image

.       loki was torn between eagerness to sink his teeth into the hunter and
        the desire to keep him tormented in fear. surely there were those of his
        kind that had lived in precisely that fear, wondering when the DEMON
        would come to bring death upon them. he wanted this man to suffer! he
        wanted him writhing in his terror, knowing that every moment the vampire
        waited his hunger grew sharper and more dangerous.

        eventually, however, hunger won out, and with it was curiosity pushing
        him down the dark stairwell. loki’s eyes were nearly black with his need
        to feed, the thirst burning in his belly with the heat of a forest fire. for a
        long moment he lingered at the bottom of the stairs, silently observing
        his captive before he stepped forward.

     ❝ i hope you have rested well, though it will make little difference to your
        fate. remove your shirt, unless you wish me to bloody it. ❞

image

   It was too much to hope for (though he never had any hope in the first place)
   that the hunter could dine and sleep under anyone’s roof for free – particularly
   a MONSTER’S roof. Not that he had chosen to stay out of his own free will;
   and while the cell was more comfortable than some of the places he’d been
   forced to take shelter in, it was hardly what one would call ‘first class’. The
   price, too, was far HIGHER than anything he’d be comfortable with, because
   his host did not take his payment in gold, but in something even more valuable.

   The fiend lasted longer than Clint expected though, and he was confused as to
   why he’d held off for so long. Hoping to sap the human of his strength, of his will
   to fight with boredom and time? To make him grow increasingly agitated and
   worried, waiting to be a meal? He was not afraid, but he certainly wasn’t looking
   forward to the ordeal, and by the end of the fifth day, the hunter was NERVOUS;
   very nervous.

   Anxiety wasn’t cured when the faintest sound of steps hit his ears, soft, yet to
   trained ears, they carried all the foreboding of beating war drums. Steel eyes
   pierced at the darkness as he waited, observing while he was observed, until
   Loki finally slipped free from the shadows with clear intent, and a command
   that made the archer tense. In his tightly-clasped palm he hid a stone, shaped
   like an arrowhead and sharpened to a point; the only preparation he could make
   for the vampire’s arrival.

      “ Beings like you, always tryin’ t’ tell me — t’ tell humanity wha’
        our fate is… yet I’ve brought many of yer kind t’ their own fate.

        If it really won’ make any diff’rence, then y’won’ mind if I refuse
        t’make it any EASIER fer you. Wouldn’ be th’first time this shirt
        got bloody. ”

【 ✕ 】 ● 【 ✕ 】● 【 ✕ 】●【 ✕ 】 ●【 ✕ 】

bottom of the food chain

[ ID: LOKI ]

╳ ┅ 「 ☘ 」

image

.       loki was not a vampire who often took blood slaves, but when he did he
        kept them heavily glamoured. it was easier that they were sedate–which
        made them BORING, in turn causing them to be quite disposable. had he
        not been TIDY the dungeons within the belly of his estate might have been
        littered with skeletons, some undoubtedly draped with the rotting remains
        of the bodies they had once supported, hanging in fetid draperies as moss
        in an equally dreary swamp.

        instead he usually opted to hunt, sometimes killing his victims regardless,
        sometimes allowing their hearts to continue to beat. his words were honeyed
        enough even without the use of glamour, but how he delighted the emptiness
        in their eyes as they eagerly bared their throats to him.

        the hunter was different. not only because he resisted and scowled with so
        much spirit. no–THE HAWK was not some nameless peasant roaming the
        streets heavily inebriated. he was someone, someone who had in fact been
        the cause of great distress to loki. and he would pay for it dearly. he had by
        virtue of his chosen profession earned loki’s deliberate and inventive cruelty.

        yet the aristocratic vampire spared his prisoner no attention during the journey
        to his home, seething quietly in his carriage–and PLOTTING–whilst feigning
        total disinterest. finally the carriage lurched to a stop, the snorts of the horses
        heralding their arrival. he emerged from the carriage and signaled for his staff
        to release the slave’s bindings and escort him below to the cells. ❝ keep him
        hydrated and well-nourished. i will require him in a few days’ time. ❞

image

   Being a hunter had multiple advantages for Clint – one of which was he had
   developed quite the reserve of stamina. His profession required him to fight
   supernatural beings that sustained themselves on the blood of the living. He
   had to be in peak shape, physically as well as mentally, practically ALL the
   time. While the Hawk’s method of hunting was mainly at long-distance range
   and didn’t require much physical activity, it was rare that his targets were
   COOPERATIVE enough to stand still and let him shoot, let alone for things to
   go as planned. Being ready for hand-to-hand combat was a necessity.

   Even so, Clint was still only mortal. A human with human weaknesses, human
   limits. His training and practice could only carry him so FAR – as had been
   proven, with his current state of affairs, captured and sold as livestock to the
   highest-bidding bloodsucker.

   The entire journey was spent with one objective in mind – escape. He tried
   to untie the ropes binding his wrists, tried to slip out of the grip of the loops or
   pull it apart by sheer force – Clint even tried to CHEW the damn thing off, but
   nothing worked, or he’d lose enough concentration to fall behind and get tugged
   by the carriage, undoing whatever work he had been trying to accomplish. By
   the time the carriage arrived at the estate, the archer was fairly winded, having
   a slight bit of difficulty keeping his feet from dragging along the dirt road that
   turned to cobblestone. He was breathing hard, sweat trickling down the tanned
   skin of his forehead and neck in glittering droplets. Still, when that MONSTER
   emerged from the carriage, Clint stood TALL and straightened his shoulders,
   keeping a dark glare on his features the whole time, refusing to show signs of
   w e a k n  e s s even after that long walk.

   Eager to prove that neither his strength or his spirits had been dampened even
   the slightest, as soon as his restraints were undone, The Hawk immediately
   began to fight off the servants holding him. One earned a solid punch in the nose,
   another a sweeping kick below the feet that sent them to the ground – an elbow
   to the stomach, another kick (this time to the chest), a fist swung to the cheek –
   and that’s when Clint’s streak ended, fist caught and twisted behind his back.
   Quickly overwhelmed with a renewed swarm of staff that came from the mansion
   proper, the struggling hunter was firmly ‘escorted’ down to his cell in the dungeons.

   Temptation bit at him to refuse to eat or drink, to STARVE himself and, in turn,
   starve the vampire of the blood he would surely DRAIN from his veins, along with
   whatever other SICK satisfactions Loki hoped to get out of him – but Clint’s pride
   wouldn’t let him. His instinct to survive was stronger than his desire for backhanded
   vengeance. He could fight and live at the same time; so he ate, and he drank.

   Knowing that vampires had to drink blood once every three to five days, or risk
   losing vitality, Clint also had a fair idea of when to expect his new ‘host’ to pay a
   VISIT as well. So he waited, doing what he could to prepare – which consisted
   mainly of eating, drinking, sleep, and doing a shit-ton of push-ups.

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bottom of the food chain

@nomadiicc​ ➵ cont.

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   No thoughts of mercy crossed his mind. Not from himself, and not from
   the vampire. Most other humans would have considered their situation
   hopeless. They would have begged for death, as even death would be a
   more pleasant end then living their life as a vampire’s captive. He’d heard
   plenty of horror stories about the ‘lives’ such captured humans lived, and
   witnessed the realities with his own eyes.

   Saving the prisoners of a vampire he hunted and killed was often very
   difficult. Not just because of the monster itself, but the captive as well.
   Their bodies were, much of the time, too weak to support itself; kept
   locked away in some dungeon or cell. Their arms and legs could be
   broken to prevent movement or escape, hidden from the sun for years,
   to the point the captive’s skin was almost as pale as their master’s.

   Those that were not physically restrained, were mentally restrained,
   and those were the victims that were the hardest to save. Some were
   placed under the direct control of the vampire, forced to do it’s unholy
   bidding. Others were tortured, both mentally and physically, to break
   them down until their wills gave out and they had no strength left to fight;
   losing the desire to resist, and the hope for escape. Worst of them all,
   were the captives who submitted to the vampire’s will, submitted to the
   life of a slave, and were blindly loyal to their masters. Whether manipulated
   or blackmailed, or perhaps a case of Stockholm syndrome – the humans
   that chose to serve vampires saw Clint as an enemy, and worked against
   him. He could not save those who had no desire to be saved; so he had
   no choice but to kill them.

   Memories of such occurrences flashed in his mind while the hunter was
   tugged to his feet, though he didn’t respond with anything more than the
   same dark glare. He did not walk until he was tugged forward through the
   crowd, not bothering to meet the leering gazes around him. Among the
   dead walking, he could spot a couple other humans that had been sold
   before him, and the instinct to free them was automatic. The knowledge
   that he could do nothing, in the same position now, hit Barton like a bucket
   of ice water.

   Seeing his wrists suddenly freed had the knee-jerk reaction for him to pull
   away, indeed attempting to escape – but the instant he did, his arms were
   forced in front of him, and a fresh set of bindings were wrapped around his
   wrists in the form of rope. The captured hunter scowled at Loki’s back while
   the lead was secured to the back of the other’s carriage, before being tugged
   forward at a fast walk, forcing him to keep up with the horses’ pace.

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blood slave

assxghoul:

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     Attending slave auctions was not normally how Loki spent his leisure
     time, and yet a certain boredom drew him to the seedy underground.
     It was meant purely as recreation, yet as his cool gaze fell upon those
     on the auction block he could not help but recognize one. A human
     captive, tawny hair darkened with whatever filth must have coated the
     cell he had been held in until the auction. He was a hunter, a skilled
     one that had killed many of his kind, including a young vampire that
     Loki himself had sired.

     He was filled with a sudden need for revenge, burning like a branding
     iron in his belly. So he bid. And he won.

          “You are mine now.”

     The first words he had spoken to this man and the only ones that would
     ever matter.

image

   ‘The Hawk’, as he had come to be known, was rather famous in the
   underground. Responsible for more slayings in the last two decades
   than any other hunter, let alone human, since the great Van Helsing.
   He’d become such a thorn in the vampires’ sides that they actually
   started hunting him, for more than just food. It was personal. It always
   had been for Clint; he just evened the odds a little bit now. He’d been
   able to rack up quite the killcount, thanks to his choice to maintain
   distance from his quarry.

   Unfortunately, he could only go so long slaying vampires before they
   took special notice of him, and worked on learning how he acted, how
   he thought, so they could take him down. One thing they were able to
   figure out was his penchant for heroism; self-sacrificing, he could never
   turn down the opportunity to save someone in need.

   Clint knew the whole thing was a trap before he even stepped foot into
   the town held hostage. It was too damn familiar to his own past for it to
   be anything else. But he fought regardless, and still managed to slaughter
   a good ten of the thirty or so vampires that were staked out for him. In the
   end, death was too good for a punishment for him; in their eyes, it would
   be only a reward. A hero’s death. No, they’d give him something much
   worse; something befitting a true enemy of the vampire race: enslavement.

   Everything but the clothes on his back were taken from him, and Clint was
   sent to the auction block. He was even advertised; ‘The Hawk Captured!’
   His skills expanded on, the fact he was a fit, healthy male, still youthful in
   his early thirties. He had never once been bitten or drunk from, and – how
   the vampires found out, he didn’t know – but they even announced he was
   a virgin. That gained quite a chorus of mocking laughs from the audience,
   but he could see the hunger in their eyes after. His starting bid was so high
   that only the richest and most powerful houses could hope to place higher
   ones. The bidding war was vicious, but in the end there was a victor, and
   Clint didn’t like the look of him at all. Loki. Deposited in the monster’s hands
   like a virgin sacrifice, hands chained behind his back, he merely glares at
   the stranger. Expression firm, set. Ready. This is just another battle to him.

                    Except this time he’s the prey.

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