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It Takes Two To Turn

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Summary: A modern day take on one William the Bloody. Who's your Sire?

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
BtVS/AtS Non-Crossover > GeneralLycanFR1814,5960086514 Sep 0814 Sep 08Yes
Title: It Takes Two To Turn
Author: lycan
Summary: A modern day take on one William the Bloody. Who’s your Sire?
Warning: AU/AR. Abuse, anal sex, angst, character death, domination, hurt/comfort, non-con/rape, oral, violence, m/m.
Age: NC17
Disclaimer: I own this storyline. I do not own the people and/or their relationships to one another. They belong solely to Joss Whedon and the cast and crew of Buffy/Angel mania.
Author’s Note: I haven’t yet decided if this is a one shot. It’s innocence; innocence stolen and cruelly killed. My characters, though not actually mine, aren’t always the same as they are in the canon. Think of William like Drusilla, human and partially crazy, but not. Just very innocent. Modern day - say…1998.

He sat down on the floor, letting the bag on his shoulders fall to the floor. He then gently set the carrier in front of him.

Reaching into the bag, he pulled out two bowels, a bottle, a bag of catnip, and a bar of chocolate. He poured some of the water into one of the small bowls, before placing it on the small table beside him. The then poured the catnip into the other bowl, sealed the bag, and put it into his bag, pushing it into the corner as he did so. He picked up the chocolate bar with one hand as his other freed the black kitten from the carrier.

The kitten mewed and rubbed against him. He petted his companion as the kitten ate the food placed in one of the bowels.

He stroked the fur. “There. That’s better, isn’t it?” His voice was softer than a man his age should have. He stopped stroking temporarily as he opened his own treat. “Just you and me.” He took a bite.

“Over here!” A voice somewhere outside shouted. “I caught it, Daddy! Mummy, come look!”

He stood and opened the door, and the kitten took the opportunity to stop eating and fly out the door.


“My, that’s a big ‘n, son.” A deeper voice boomed. “You’ll outdo me.”

Laughter from the child. “Not yet, Daddy.”

The kitten slipped into the water. Panicked, he dipped his hand in, down to his elbow, and caught his pet before the little thing sunk further.


“Don’t you go encouraging him, Fred.” A woman’s voice, full of love and laughter.

He caught the black fur ball, half drowned, almost dead. “Please…” He begged, running inside, his precious cargo held gently in his arms. He set the kitten on the floor and grabbed a towel from the tiny bathroom. He fell to his knees and gently but briskly dried his friend. “Don’t die.” He finished drying the little guy and waited, tears pouring down his cheeks. “Come on. Don’t die. Don’t leave.” A tiny breath was finally breathed, and he choked on a sob. He picked up the kitten and wrapped him in a blanket he’d pulled from the bed. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

“Can I get another one, Daddy?”

After the kitten had decided he was warm enough, he struggled form his snugly prison and attacked his food again. His owner picked up the forgotten chocolate bar as he resumed stroking his friend, making sure that the door was closed.

“It’s you and me. Daddy’s gone, now. But Mum’ll get the papers next week. ‘Till then it’s mine.”

He finished his chocolate bar, and drank some of the water from the bottle before he picked up the towel and went into the small bathroom. Dumping it into the hamper, he quickly relieved himself before washing his hands, exiting the tiny space, and picking up his bag from the corner. He pulled out fresh clothes and quickly changed into them. Stuffing the other clothes into the bag, he tidied up a little by placing the carrier next to his bag and checking the fridge to see what food was in there.
There wasn’t much, but it would last him the week.

Everything was still in working order, still safe. Even though the dock manager knew him through his long visit’s with his father, he would never have handed him the keys without being sure the boat was safe to be on.

He looked at the keys at that thought; they were still sitting on the table top. He picked them up and slid them into a drawer.

The boat wasn’t as big as some as the others on the dock, but it was enough for one person. His father had lived on the boat for years, often sailing far and staying away for months at a time.
Little to no clothes in the drawers, a one-person bed, a small TV sitting on the small bedside table, along with an alarm clock, a small bathroom which held a shower, sink, and toilet, a kitchen with a table and chair, kitchen and freezer combo, and a cooker. Clothes were washed at a Laundromat wherever his father had stopped at.

There was a place for him to sleep, too, when he went on a trip or just wanted to spend a small amount of time which ended up him staying the night. The metal bit of the bed, under the mattress, looked as if you should be pulling shelves from it - the knobs were there and everything - but was only empty space. Though wooden and in the shape of draws, one side actually slid behind the other to reveal nothing but the sleeping bag on the floor.
He’d been crawling under to sleep there since he was a small child, the drawer left open just enough for him to breathe through the night.

Shaking out of his reverie, he turned to look at his small black companion, who was lapping at the water periodically.

He made sure the windows were all shut, and the door to the bathroom was shut before pulling open the bed draw and piling a fresh towel there; a little place for his kitten to sleep.

He then sat down on the floor, glancing out of the window now and then, waiting for night.


He was jerked awake by a noise outside.

He’d waited for hours, playing with his friend and watching TV before he’d grown tired and had crawled into bed and let the waves rocking the boat soothe him to sleep.

Now he was wide awake, and afraid.

Footsteps were approaching slowly, soon followed by a lighter pair.

“This is it, darlin’.” An accented voice said.

“It’s small.”

“Aye. Ye find another.”

He scrambled from the bed and quickly made it before crawling under it. He was careful not to jog the kitten while he slid the faux-draw closed.

“Just gotta keep quiet.” He whispered. “It’s ok. They’ll go away.”

He closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his kitten’s soft black fur. He heard the door to the boat open slowly, since he’d forgotten to lock it.

“Aye.” Said the voice. “No owner.”

The voice was deep, masculine. He literally held his breath as footsteps went here and there, deep voice humming and grunting.

The kitten seemed to sense danger, and curled close. He smiled softly. “It’s gonna be ok.” He whispered as quietly as possible. “We’ll be safe.” He breath was wind in the air.

The draw suddenly slid open, and his ankle was grabbed. He was yanked out with a yelp, his hand trying to stop his body from moving. He was pulled up fully, and he squinted up at the large dark shadow towering over him. The other hand ran slowly up his body, before it snapped out and grabbed the kitten, who was hissing and biting the hands that grabbed him and his owner.


The shadow stood and made its way to the bathroom.

“Hmm. What to do…?”

He scrambled to his feet and chased after them, sill terrified, but he couldn’t see what was happening. The one in front of him was taller and broader, and he couldn’t reach around him. He could hear water running and his kitten mewling and hissing in fright.

The free hand, the one that wasn’t holding the kitten, shoved him back, and he landed on his butt in the middle of the floor. Tears filled his eyes as he looked up.

A moment later, a wet black kitten was dropped at his feet. Dead.

“No! How…What…H-How…?” He stuttered, clutching at his pet, running his hands over fur as he once more scrubbed it gently with a towel, trying to clean him, trying to bring his companion back to life once more. He looked up at the dark figure. “Please…”

The figure crouched down, and used his thumb and forefinger of one hand to raise his face, twist it this way and that, studying him. He struggled in the grip, trying to free himself, but it was as if a metal machine held him captive.

“It’s dead.”

“N-No. Was earlier…” He sobbed out. “Brought it back.”



The figure took hold of both of his hands and placed them onto the floor. “Breathe into it’s mouth. Down to it’s lungs.”

He did as suggested, as his…captor tapped against the tiny ribcage, seemingly not enough to bring it back to life.

And yet, after a few minutes, the little kitten breathed once more.

He was allowed to finish off drying the little creature, and hug it to him for a few more minutes, before the fur ball was yanked from his grasp and shut in under the bed. He himself was then thrown onto the bed.



He would have stared at the face of the being in front of him, accept his captor turned around to flip on the light switch. He winced and then squinted as his eyes adjusted to the light.

“But I-”

He didn’t get no further, as he was suddenly towered over again, and a backhand met his cheek with just enough force to turn his head and sting lightly.

“I said quiet, boy.”

It was naught but a man that stood in front of him. His hair was long enough to be tied, which it was, at his neck with a ribbon. Once he’d turned to face him fully, he could see that his mouth was set into a grim line, and his eyes were dark, almost completely black. He was dressed in s ilk shirt and black leather trousers, his black boots new and polished.

He was glared down upon, his own clothes; cream coloured trousers and a loose long sleeved and well-worn light brown shirt, looking like rags compared to his captor’s.

He gulped audibly and stared. “S-Sorry.” He whispered, and cringed away to the very corner of the bed, which was pressed against the corner of the wall. Tears hadn’t stopped flowing down his cheeks, but now they started faster, as he watched his captor glance around the boat once more.

“This isn’t yours.” He didn’t ask, he simply stated a fact. He shook his head quickly. He was backhanded again, only this time harder. It was enough to leave a red mark on his face. “Answer me.”

“N-No, it’s not m-mine.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“It’s Mummy’s next week.” He whispered, staring at nothing. “W-Was Dad’s.” The stranger stared at him, head tilted slightly to one side. “But he’s g-gone, now.” He licked his lips as his eyes darted around. “I…I wanted to-to stay, just ‘till then.”

“Tell me your name.”


The glare was still there, but his captor’s eyes had softened a little. A large hand reached out, and he cringed, but it settled gently on his hair and down to his cheek, where his tears were wiped away, and licked off.

“C-Can I-”


He was somewhat glad he’d relieved himself earlier, and his bladder was empty. He was sure he would have wet himself with his terror by now, otherwise.

“We’re going for a ride, Angelus!” A voice, just outside the door, announced.

“Aye. You go one ahead.” He called back, turning slightly, before turning to look at him once more.

“Is that your name?” He whispered, even quieter than before, as if the volume of it would protect himself from his captor’s obvious short fuse of anger. “Angelus?”

He was met with yet another backhand, this one even harder than before. He cried out and pressed one hand to the abused cheek.

“Don’t make too much noise!” A woman’s voice, sharp with reproof.

“Oh, we’ll be quiet.” His captor, Angelus, smirked. “Won’t we, boy?”

He nodded quickly, still curled up. As the other male turned and headed for the door, he reached under the bed and quickly picked up his kitten, cradling him close.

“You’d best be.”

The door was open. A petite blond woman peered into the boat, saw him on the bed, and turned her sharp glare onto the one in front of her.

“It’ll be fine, darlin’. Ye’ll see.”

“Yes, well. Be sure to be finished soon. It’s sunrise in an hour.”

“Aye.” He pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “Ye keep an eye on the other children.”


“I want to.”

She sighed. “Oh, alright then. He is a pretty one, and it has been a while since we’ve had any new children to play with.”

He smiled, and kissed her again. “Thank you.”

“You’d just best make sure I don’t regret it, hadn’t you, love?”

He chuckled. “Aye.” He closed the door as she turned away, and glanced back at him. He sneered when he saw the kitten but sat down on the bed next to him anyway. “Does it have a name, boy?”

“No. He’s new.” He replied, slightly calmed now that he had his companion. His voice was smooth and oozed with an innocence a man his age should not have in this day and age. “I just call him Sprite. I-If we don’t have to sell him like we did the others, t-that’ll stay his name. He’s f-fast and sneaky.” He smiled at the tiny creature, stroking under his chin as the fur ball purred.

His captor stood up and made his way to the kitchen. “Put it to bed or I’ll kill it. An’ it won’t be comin’ back alive if I do.”

He cringed, but slowly put his kitten back under the bed, closing the draw enough so that the little creature couldn’t escape from under there, but still open enough for air to keep ventilating into.

“Are you going to hurt me?”

He turned sharply, one hand disappearing into his pocket. “Jesus, boy. Didn’t they teach you anything in school?”

“I didn’t go to school.” He replied, eyes wide as he cowered in the corner of the bed, the other man slowly walking back to the bed. “I was taught at home.”

“By whom?”

“Mum and Dad.” He had to tilt his head back to see his face. “They didn’t want me going to school.”

Angelus put a large hand on the side of his backside. “I see.” He smiled, and rested his weight on one knee upon the bed. “And that blasted television?”

“W-We don’t own one.” He whispered. “I-I read books and studied.”

His smile wasn’t kind; there was something feral in it. His hand travelled down his leg to his knee. “So delectably innocent, then.” He leaned closed, and tilted his head back to sniff at his neck. “’T explains a lot.”

“Please don’t hurt me.”

He threw back his head and laughed at the whispered plea. “Oh, I’ll do more than hurt you, boy. And you’ll love it all.”

He curled up tighter, more afraid now than he’d ever been in his life. “I don’t l-like being hu-hurt.” He informed, his body shaking. “So please don’t.”

The hand moved from his knee to his face, where his tears were wiped away first before they moved up to his honey-coloured hair, and the tangles were soothed out. The other hand pressed a handkerchief under his nose, where it wiped away the snot that had dripped down in his crying. When his face was clean, he tossed the soiled cloth away, and leaned closed to press a gentle kiss on his forehead before he drew back and used both hands to lift the shirt.

“Arms up.” Angelus ordered, his voice deceptively soft.

He complied out of fear, his body shaking harder, slightly from cold, but mostly from fear. The shirt was slipped from his body and was gently wiped across his face, completely cleaning and drying him before it was dropped to the floor.

“Are you going to take me away and put me next to Daddy?”

“Aye. Only, I’m Daddy now.”


“Aye.” He ran his hands over the bared chest. “Now, where’re the keys?” He was backhanded when he didn’t answer. “I can be harsher, William. Where are the keys?”

“I-In the drawer.”

The larger man stepped away and retrieved the keys from the drawer. He locked the door and then dumped the keys back before plucking the other man from the bed and setting him on the floor.

“There’s a good boy.” He cooed, yanking the curtains closed over the window. “There’s my good boy.”

His captor crouched in front of him, and pulled the socks from his feet. The older man then unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers, easily slipped them from his body.

“Can’t be yours. Won’t be. Let me go.” He pleaded. He didn’t struggle, didn’t know what to do. His underwear was slipped off next, before his captor slipped off his own clothing. “Please.”

“Too soon to be begging. We haven’t started yet.” He chuckled, hands running over bared skin. “And you’ll be mine soon enough, rest assured. You’ll be safe.”

Fresh tears ran down his face as he was slipped onto his stomach and held down by a hard hand.

“I don’t understand…” He sobbed. “I’ve been good!”

“Aye, probably.” He conceded. “Now, hush. I’ve been gentle, William. Been soft with ye as I’m not usually. But I can do this a harsh way. It doesn’t make a difference to me. It’s your choice to make.”

“W-What do I do?”

“Tell me you’re mine. Tell me you always will be.”

He wiped at his face and nodded. “Ok. I…I’ll be yours. Just…please don’t hurt me. I’ll be yours. Always.”

“Daddy.” He ordered.

He hesitated, still crying silently as his captor’s free hand rubbed over his skin. The hand paused and tapped at his bottom.

“Daddy. I’ll be yours, forever. Daddy.”

“There’s a good boy.” The hand went to his hair and stroked. “My good boy.” The hand left him, only to return a moment later to his backside, the fingers cold and slippery. “I’ll take good care o’ ye, boy.” He growled, fingers wiggling between cheeks.

He gasped a cold, wet finger pressed against his back entrance. It breached him a moment later, and wiggled incessantly until there was enough room for a second, and then a third finger.
Then something bigger than three fingers was pressed against him, and he struggled, terrified about what was happening.

“P-Please…you said…”

“Hush.” He was held still as the blunt object pressed inside him. “It’ll pass.”

Angelus’ weight settled over him, and when he finally figure out what it was that was entering him, it was too late, and the bigger male was settled inside of him fully. It hurt, and he tore, and he cried as he was held still, his arms cushioning his face.

He wasn’t sure how long his violation went on for, only knew that it ended when cold fluid shot out from his captor and into him, and the other man pulled out of his body, two different types of fluid stuck to his limp length.

“Hurt.” He sobbed out bitterly, too afraid to move.

A towel was pressed against him, and he was gently cleaned.

He turned his head to see the other man wipe his blood and the other bodily fluid from himself, before dumping the towel on the table and standing.
He watched the larger man stand and dress quickly, before he found himself gently lifted and settled on the bed, covers pulled over him.

“Sleep, little William.”


He woke slowly, his body twitching. He started stretching before his body protested, and reminded him of the abuse he’d suffered. He stilled with a whimper, and blinked his eyes open. He then stared with shocked fascination at the scene taking place in front of him.

Angelus was sitting on the kitchen chair, his trousers open and his head thrown back. There was a female on her knees before him, different from the one last night. Her hair was short and dark, her eyes as dark as his captor’s.
He saw that much before she closed her eyes and bent back to her task, taking Angelus’ hard length into her mouth and sucking. Her hands roamed over the muscular thighs as his hands ran through her silky hair.

The boat rocked harder than he was used to when he visited the dock, and he managed to turn and raise himself up slightly to peel open the curtain and peer outside.

They were no longer at the docks. He was surrounded by sea. The dock manager would be sure to know something was wrong; his father had never gotten round to showing him how to drive the thing, and the dock manager knew that.

Suddenly a hand clamped over his wrist, and the curtains were yanked shut once more. He whipped his head around to see the female there, holding him with an expression of calmed anger on her face. She gently but forcefully settled him back onto the bed, and pulled the covers over him.

His eyes followed her as she walked back over to Angelus, who was still seated, but now had an expression of satisfaction and laziness. He was tucking himself back into his leather trousers, looking over to the woman with a smile.

“The boat’s still tied to this one. I’d imagine you want some more time along with the pretty boy?”


She smiled, and then sighed. “Alright.”

“That’s my girl.” He kissed her, and she drew a long coat over her to cover every inch of skin and then darted from the boat. She gave a yell, and Angelus relaxed marginally. “Safe inside at least.” He chuckled, and calmly made his way over to the bed.

He stared up at his captor as he stood over him, not moving.

“W-Will you let me go now?”

“No.” He chuckled.

He wiggled as Angelus sat beside him and manipulated him onto his lap. He was held against a hard chest, one hand cupping his groin as the other was around his back. Angelus’ head nudged him backwards, and he nibbled at the fragile skin on his neck.

He repeated his plea. “Please don’t hurt me.”

He was ignored as his captor leaned back. “What happened to your father, then?”

“He died.” He whispered. “Mum said he had a-a heart attack. I-In his sleep.”

Angelus ran a soothing hand through his hair as he was cradled. He didn’t say anything as his hands wiggled between their bodies and pressed against the sore opening. He easily entered the still slick and slightly loosened entrance, and he soon had three fingers inside once more.

“There’re worse ways to go.” He informed, crooking his fingers. “Now, tell me what I want to hear, my boy.” Tears started anew as he shook his head. He was cuffed before the hand re-cupped him. “’T wasn’t a request, boy. Say it.”

“No!” He cried. “It hurt!”

He was pushed to the floor. He stayed there, crying, and ignored the sound of a zipper being slowly lowered. Then Angelus was pushing into him, harder then before.

“You’re pushing me, William.” He growled. “Say it.”

His arms once more folded under his head as he cried. It hurt worse then before, but he couldn’t tell if it was simply because he was sore or because his captor was being harsh on him.

It didn’t take long for him to give in. “Will y-you still hur-hurt me?” He asked, his body jerking with his captor’s movements.

“I’ll take care of you, William. You’ll be safe. You brought this on yourself.”

“Ok.” He sobbed. “I’ll be yours. I will.” He wiped at his eyes. “I’ll be yours forever, Daddy. Please!”


It was night when he next woke. He was alone. He crawled out of the bed and crouched on the floor. He opened the draw, but it was empty. Panicked, he crawled across the floor, looking for his kitten.

The door opened.

“’S a good look for you, boy.”

He looked up at his captor. “W-Where is he?” He begged.


He went to leave, but his arm was caught. He was picked up effortlessly and put back on the bed, this time on his side rather than his stomach.


“I’ll let it in.” He said. “And I’ll bring ye some food back.”

“Where…Where’re you going?”

He didn’t reply, simply pressed a light kiss to his forehead and left. A moment later, the black kitten was gently tossed onto the floor and the door closed. The sound of a key locking it sounded, and footsteps faded away.

He stood and retrieved his kitten before sitting back on the bed. The fur ball curled up beside him, and he allowed himself to relax.

When Angelus returned, there was a young man in his arms, bound and gagged. He placed the youth in the bathroom and closed the door, shutting him in.


“Y-Yes. But I don’t see any food. A-And there’s some still in…in the fridge.”

His captor chuckled and moved to sit beside him. He was then gently pulled into his lap, while the kitten was picked up and placed back under the bed, the draw mostly closed.

“Still so innocent.” He informed, before biting his neck.

He screamed.


When he woke, he was dressed in his own clothes and on the bed, covers tangled about him. He sat up, thinking it all a dream, as he didn’t hurt.

But Angelus stood beside the bed, smirking down at him. The young man was in his arms, and he held him forward.

“W-What do I do?”

He frowned. “Eat.”

He looked confused. “Eat what?” He asked, his voice lowered.

“This human.”

“But…But I’m not…not a cannibal!”

“No…you’re a vampire. You drink his blood, you don’t eat his flesh.”

“I-I’m not…you’re…”

Angelus’ face changed as he bit into the bound man’s neck. When he was dead, he tossed the body aside, and sat on the bed.

He found himself on his captor’s lap once more. “What do ye remember from earlier?”

“Y-You hurt me.”



Angelus scowled, and then looked confused, and then chuckled. “Aye. Innocent ‘till the end.” He used a finger to cut a line in his neck, and pressed his face against it.

Before he understood anything, he started to suck at the wound, drawing blood into his mouth. When he was full, he pulled back in shock.

Tears fled from his eyes yet again. “It hurt.”

“Hush.” He crooned, and stood up. He was set on his hands and knees as Angelus patted his backside and slid open the draw. “In. It’s time for bed.”


“Quiet.” The hand slapped his backside, and he yelped. “This is your bed. It’s where you belong. Now, sleep. It’s time all young children were asleep.”


The End

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