By Summer
Forever Knight fiction
Class: Slash
Note: I don�t own them but I sure wish I did.
Beta read by Mom-Ra
"Utter nonsense, absolutely and completely inaccurate. AS IF I would actually stake my own son and let him perish. I have suffered your pathetic moanings of guilt and remorse for over 800 years and they think I would end your life over some miserable little waif of a mortal woman dying on your rug! I won't even go into that storyline with Janette becoming mortal. How revolting!"
A low painful moan came from behind the tall white haired man dressed in black.
Circling a dark room, the elder vampire paced slowly.
"Foolish writers, do they honestly think they can get away with writing such dribble!" He picked up a stack of folders filled with papers. He crushed them his hand.
"And they not only write that but they also write alternate worlds where you actually achieve your mortal soul! That would be laughable, if it weren't so pathetic. If you ever did manage to regain your mortality-" the elder shuddered with disgust, "do these writers not understand that I would simply bring you across again? As if I was some common Roman foot soldier, incapable of planning such a strategy. Disgusting thoughts and here they even plague me with emotions!" he shuddered again.
"makes me want to heave up my dinner from earlier this evening. Which would be quite a shame to ruin such a splendid vintage. Then ... then, Nicholas they have the nerve to write us having a...a....torrid affair. Well, perhaps that isn't too far from the truth. However, do these ... persons think that they can actually sit and write about my bedroom affairs! Its none of their damn business whom I sleep with. These writes must be rejected journalists from the 'Sleazy Tabloid or other papers of that ilk. At least, I'm not like Bill Clinton, whose mistress had one bad hair day after another. You, my dearest, have lovely hair, as these hack writers feel the need to mention incessantly among your many attributes. My tastes I would say are of the highest standards!"
Another moan came from behind him and LaCroix shrugged waving his hand
up into the air.
"Hush, I need to think, Nicholas. These writers must be dealt with. I can not let them get away
with this. Writing such dribble...I will have to do something drastic...yes-yes. I shall hunt them down and whammy them as they call it in their stories and have them walk up the tallest building and plunge themselves off to their deaths. Then, I shall come back here and fuck you senseless because I want to. Yes, that is what I shall do."
Turning, he picked up his cloak on the hanger and put it on in one
smooth motion. Heading out the door he paused to hear a loud moan coming from behind him.
"Oh, sorry Nicholas. I sometimes get caught up with the moment and forget when I am busy making one of my long winded speeches."
Returning to the bedside he looked down at a gorgeous blond haired man tied spread eagled
and very naked on the bed. With one smooth movement LaCroix pulled the wooden stake out of his son�s chest.
"Now, next time we won't mention any female names like Janette or that coroner's name while I am in the middle of thrusting my well endowed cock in that delightful round and tight ass of yours! Will we mon fil?"
Hearing a pain-filled voice' confirmed this. LaCroix started to leave when he paused one last time.
"Oh and do avoid dropping blood on your birthday present from Janette, the new French carpet. It came all the way from Paris or she will have both of our asses."
Then, he headed out the door, and took to the skies intent on his newest prey. The ever dangerous writers of Forever Knight fandom.
The end.