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writetomyheart2013-11-20 11:04 pm
kira-shadow.livejournal.com) wrote in writetomyheart2013-11-20 11:04 pm
Entry tags:
[Team 1] Encounter
Not satisfied with this but after rewriting and deleting for an hour I decided to just post it. Won't have a lot of time the next few days ;;
“After him!” the shouts echoed through the streets behind him and soon, Iwamoto could hear footsteps coming closer and closer. He took a sharp turn, fled into the more narrow alleys, tried to shake of the pursuers in the maze. Blood was trickling down from the wound in his chest. For some reason his body wasn’t healing and regenerating as fast as it should. Which could only mean one thing: these weren’t normal bullets. It also meant that those weren’t normal thugs following him - they had to be rogue hunters. People who hunted for sport or for fun, people who didn’t follow the codex and agreements.
He could feel anger building up inside of him. They were degrading him to some sort of animal, some sort of game that could be hunted. He remembered their faces, he would definitely get them back for this.
His energy flagged a bit and he stumbled. That wound hurt like a bitch. And it was like a leech sucking his energy reserves dry.
Suddenly Iwamoto was grabbed and jerked back into a darker alley. The blood on the snowy ground was quickly covered by more snow and after a few seconds, a small snowman stood there. The person who had grabbed him shot him a look that said ‘stay hidden’ and then turned back to tending to the snowman on the ground.
The pursuers arrived there and took a look at the small figure crouching by the corner and making a snowman. They tsk-ed softly and then took off towards a different direction.
When they were all gone and a good distance away probably, the male by the snowman stood up straight again and smiled at him. “I guess it’s okay to come out again,” he said.
Iwamoto re-emerged from the shadows but then faltered in his steps. Growling, he clutched at his wound. Why was that bullet still inside of him?
“Silver threaded bullets,” the other male frowned and then pulled off his glove and produced a pair of tweezers from the folds of his jacket. “Hold still,” he commanded and then proceeded to get rid of the bullet in Iwamoto’s flank with great care.
Hissing in pain, Iwamoto tried not to move as the other worked. Something occurred to him though. How did the other know this was a special bullet? Also, why hadn’t he felt the other’s presence earlier? He should have felt something, sensed a human in the area. He furrowed his eyebrows. He still couldn’t really sense the other’s presence.
“There, done,” the unknown male announced and smiled at Iwamoto.
“I owe you my thanks,” Iwamoto said. He was about to move on when he faltered in his steps again and had to lean against the wall for support. Even with the bullet out, healing seemed to take more energy than he would have liked.
“You need blood,” the male helped him to sit down and then did something then made Iwamoto’s eyebrows shoot up. The other undid his scarf and bared his neck for him. What was this? Nobody had ever willingly offered their blood to him. Who was this guy? Could he really trust him?
But right now, he couldn’t control his own senses enough to hesitate. The pulsating veins were too inviting and his body was screaming at him to just take what he needed. And so he sunk his fangs into the other’s neck.
The rush that went through his body was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. All his senses were on fire and he had to pull himself away from the other’s neck again quickly. When he looked down, all his wounds had disappeared and he felt like he had just sucked an entire club’s worth of people dry when in fact he had barely even had a taste of the strange young male in front of him.
“Who are you?” he asked the other, eyes wide.
The other looked back at him, looking equally surprised. His breath had quickened and it had seemed that he had experienced something similar to Iwamoto himself.
“I- My name is Sakuma. Sakuma Daisuke,” the other replied.
“Sakuma Daisuke,” Iwamoto muttered. Then his head snapped around. The sky was starting to get lighter. He had to make his way back.
“You should go. Quickly,” Sakuma told him with a smile. “Mr. Vampire.”
“Iwamoto,” he replied shortly and then without any further word, leaped onto the nearest roof to make his way back to the ‘lair’ before the sunlight could reduce him to dust.
Your turn![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ltgmars
“After him!” the shouts echoed through the streets behind him and soon, Iwamoto could hear footsteps coming closer and closer. He took a sharp turn, fled into the more narrow alleys, tried to shake of the pursuers in the maze. Blood was trickling down from the wound in his chest. For some reason his body wasn’t healing and regenerating as fast as it should. Which could only mean one thing: these weren’t normal bullets. It also meant that those weren’t normal thugs following him - they had to be rogue hunters. People who hunted for sport or for fun, people who didn’t follow the codex and agreements.
He could feel anger building up inside of him. They were degrading him to some sort of animal, some sort of game that could be hunted. He remembered their faces, he would definitely get them back for this.
His energy flagged a bit and he stumbled. That wound hurt like a bitch. And it was like a leech sucking his energy reserves dry.
Suddenly Iwamoto was grabbed and jerked back into a darker alley. The blood on the snowy ground was quickly covered by more snow and after a few seconds, a small snowman stood there. The person who had grabbed him shot him a look that said ‘stay hidden’ and then turned back to tending to the snowman on the ground.
The pursuers arrived there and took a look at the small figure crouching by the corner and making a snowman. They tsk-ed softly and then took off towards a different direction.
When they were all gone and a good distance away probably, the male by the snowman stood up straight again and smiled at him. “I guess it’s okay to come out again,” he said.
Iwamoto re-emerged from the shadows but then faltered in his steps. Growling, he clutched at his wound. Why was that bullet still inside of him?
“Silver threaded bullets,” the other male frowned and then pulled off his glove and produced a pair of tweezers from the folds of his jacket. “Hold still,” he commanded and then proceeded to get rid of the bullet in Iwamoto’s flank with great care.
Hissing in pain, Iwamoto tried not to move as the other worked. Something occurred to him though. How did the other know this was a special bullet? Also, why hadn’t he felt the other’s presence earlier? He should have felt something, sensed a human in the area. He furrowed his eyebrows. He still couldn’t really sense the other’s presence.
“There, done,” the unknown male announced and smiled at Iwamoto.
“I owe you my thanks,” Iwamoto said. He was about to move on when he faltered in his steps again and had to lean against the wall for support. Even with the bullet out, healing seemed to take more energy than he would have liked.
“You need blood,” the male helped him to sit down and then did something then made Iwamoto’s eyebrows shoot up. The other undid his scarf and bared his neck for him. What was this? Nobody had ever willingly offered their blood to him. Who was this guy? Could he really trust him?
But right now, he couldn’t control his own senses enough to hesitate. The pulsating veins were too inviting and his body was screaming at him to just take what he needed. And so he sunk his fangs into the other’s neck.
The rush that went through his body was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. All his senses were on fire and he had to pull himself away from the other’s neck again quickly. When he looked down, all his wounds had disappeared and he felt like he had just sucked an entire club’s worth of people dry when in fact he had barely even had a taste of the strange young male in front of him.
“Who are you?” he asked the other, eyes wide.
The other looked back at him, looking equally surprised. His breath had quickened and it had seemed that he had experienced something similar to Iwamoto himself.
“I- My name is Sakuma. Sakuma Daisuke,” the other replied.
“Sakuma Daisuke,” Iwamoto muttered. Then his head snapped around. The sky was starting to get lighter. He had to make his way back.
“You should go. Quickly,” Sakuma told him with a smile. “Mr. Vampire.”
“Iwamoto,” he replied shortly and then without any further word, leaped onto the nearest roof to make his way back to the ‘lair’ before the sunlight could reduce him to dust.
Your turn
ltgmars
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whispers where can I get more of this? +_+no subject
(I'm sorry for my incoherent babbling, I just want to let you know I enjoyed this very much)
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yesssssssssssssss.
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I really find the mysterious Sakuma here intriguing! And the image of him making a snowman is just so cute in my brain, makes me want to cuddle him :P
The part where Iwamoto drinks from Sakuma, I could sense the attraction between them already, this whole verse is exciting :D
no subject
Come to the dark side, we have IwaSaku ficsI'm glad you're enjoying these :D
...and who knows, there might be more soon >>; *cough*