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moonbeammist · 5 days

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The Peasant's Secret (Part 1)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Dune characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

PAIRINGS: Feyd Rautha x Fem!Fighter!Reader

AUTHORS NOTE: I drew heavy inspiration from the Dune Soundtrack, especially the Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen Suite by Hans Zimmer (avail on youtube atm)- truly sets the mood and tone for the story if you wanna have a listen. I appreciate this community of writers/readers! Any feedback and thoughts are most welcome! This is going to be a two-part series!

WARNINGS: (Mostly for 2nd Chapter): (Adults only 18+) profanity, innuendo, extreme violence, gore, sadism, masochism, dub con, erotic undertones, heavy petting, reader is a fighter who gets extremely hurt, bigotry against the poor, very immersive, feyd-rautha is his sick self

SYNOPSIS: Hailing from the Planet Caladan as a rice cultivator who somehow ended up at the Harkonnen Arena, You know two things to be true.. 1. You are peasant scum and 2. You are going to try something that's never been done on the battlefield.

WORD COUNT: 2.2k words

You were in a colorless oasis. It wasn't really an oasis in the scenery sense; it was an oasis in the sense that it felt like a bottomless void, a strange, deafening dream. It was an oasis because it didn't feel like reality. A desolate vision to where no judging eyes would befall you as you threw your whole self, your body, into its ultimate test. That’s how they all made their mark here, isn’t it?

You reflect on Giedi Prime's obscure, bone-dry alternate reality to your home planet of Caladan - you were of peasant descent in the lush, grassy, biodiverse settlements. You and your mother had strengths in labour as rice planters, trading their services to the wealthy nobles in exchange for military protection. A life of labour and sweat in the rice fields, the economy depended on their work, as such, they had little free time.

Stepping foot into the outdoors, the crunch of your cheaply-made, scraggly brown boots is heard as you line up with the rest of the prisoners. The earth smelled of crust, rot, and blood. You somewhat know where you're supposed to end up as Harkonnen soldiers round you up, but at the same time, you haven’t got a clue where you’ll be settling before battle. Wide, dark tunnels arch over the sand like a protective roof against the beating black sun. You've been given the finest privilege to represent your low-status family members in a brutal and bloody ceremony where this pale, ghostly Harkonnen House cuts you down, down into the dirt. A death deemed worthy.

A death is worthy when you die with passion because you’re trying - kicking and screaming. It's a beautiful way to go because you feel everything.

The height of your human complexities is shown at the forefront - pushing yourself, testing yourself.. You who initially thought fighting was for those who have a reason to fight, like for political gain and power, defending your home and planets among the stars. However, you have never felt so alive, representing the absolute bottom of the barrel. What joy it would be to see an enemy fall from not hand-to-hand combat, not brute force, but peasant trickery.

This is worth something.

That’s what you tell yourself. What else can you cling to? You were living for the cultivation of rice before you came here.

Horns erupt in a deep, haunting bass. The ground is shaking. Shaking with such strength that your feet stumble forward, knees scraping the grainy, white sand. Your hands bite into the sand. A guttural song emits from the speakers suddenly, the force of it hitting your chest like a bang. Your body stutters.

Your fellow no-name fighters eyes snap at your movements. Hushed chuckles erupt over the heavy bass. You feel slightly embarrassed as you quickly stumble back up and rub the grainy sand away from your knees and palms. Your eyes narrow.

This is all of your first times, all of your fellow fighters' first essential phases into proving yourself worthy to Harkonnens. Granted, you were vermin first, something to gawk at, something like cattle. As far as you heard from your briefing on the way here, this whole spectacle was based on a test round. If you pass your initial testing round, then - maybe, just maybe, you can live in comfort. There was not much more elaboration than that. Either get cut down, sliced down, gutted down - or prosper. So why do you feel like you're the only one on edge? You’re in your head too much.

Because I might fucking die.

You swallow that thought down, burying it deep in your stomach, where it should stay.

Underneath the arena, there is a place where the Harkonnen soldiers stop - a small, enclosed burrow tucked away from sight, away from the audience members that fill the seats of the large dome-like sphere of the arena. Through the dark, enclosed area you can make out the bleached atmosphere stretched and rounded out, seeing several egg-like craniums darting up and down in the stands. Their eyes were like inky, beady pools of onyx - almost insect-like. They were thrashing in excitement, the low murmur of chatter and whooping heard.

You look around to your peers. There is nothing really notable about any of you. Dressed in meek wool, burlap, or loin cloth. Prepped with various weapon satchels latched onto waists or knees. You have no advanced shields or armour, that is true. As suicidal as that may seem against these elite brutes, It’s what you represent that really matters. The peasant trickery you have up your sleeve.

You were an only child born to common people. In the small moments, you would take to the hills with your mother and run and play. Your mother's long, flowing hair would crack like a whip against the wind behind her, in a game of “cat and mouse," as she would call it. You would try to grasp at the ends of her hair - your mother's high, sing-songy laughter echoing in the distance as you chased her.

You did not know your father - just that he was a passing tradesman who fell in love with your mother’s quirks and tenacity for adventure; in the odd breaks she could have them between planting rice grain. They spent 6 months together, you heard, and it was passionate. But he could not stay on this planet.

Your mother did not know if he was alive. But despite him leaving, she spoke fondly of him. “He defied appearances. They thought of him as a simple, dull man in the trades, a grunt. But his intellect was his greatest secret.”

You supposed that maybe you were that small reminder of him to her, as her description of your father shadowed your mother’s slow moulding of your personality over the years. A weak, feeble rice labourer by appearances, always dressed in brown, murky colours to disappear. She did not want anyone to notice you at first glance; let that be your first safety. If they must stumble on you or pester your forgettable existence, you must keep up the act at first glance. You were scared, you were begging for your life like a common peasant. If they continue to prod and seek to damage or harm you, they would pry open the bottle of secrets that came spilling out of you in this fight-or-flight scenario.

You had a lot to learn and a lot to process as Caladan civilians. The threat of Caladan’s as well as other planets' potential hostile nature was something you were keenly aware of, a foot on your back of sorts, as you couldn’t do anything formidle to stop an enemy.

The peasants, not permitted to use weapons or obtain shields or anything of the sort, could only offer you certain wisdom that was passed among the peoples. One they passed to your mother’s watchful eye and then onto you. They call it the peasant’s secret.

The art of dodging.

“Remember the game of cat and mouse?” You remember your mother’s voice barely over a whisper as she lay beside you one night in woolly sleeping bags on the soft greenery beneath you. The weather was hot enough to enjoy a night outside. The flow of the river’s stream is heard against her.

You haven’t used the peasant’s secret in awhile. You primarily used it against your mother and your fellow people, as they would take turns throwing you into mock battles. They didn’t have any weapons, but they did collide, push, and throw themselves into your body at full speed, so you had to react quickly.

They did push you to the limit. Bless them. Until you were an exhausted heap of limbs on the ground and had the wind knocked out of you.

You knew that wasn’t as valuable as practicing it against someone who genuinely wanted to kill you. You didn’t know if the peasant’s secret had successfully saved someone’s life against a brutal attack or if it was just used as a quick get-away.

So yes, you could fall into the trap of thinking you knew what you were doing when, in reality, it was based on instinct. Of course, the arena was a circle. A never-ending loop. Eventually, even though your stamina was now crafted to be well above average, you would eventually get tired. The peasant community of Caladan had a careful, pinpoint focus on the art of dodging rather than hand-to-hand combat or brute force, which made for a very interesting opponent, if you could even call it that. Most of the time, if you could, you were told to outrun them first. So your speed heavily improved. If they were just as fast, then you could begin your dance.

Now, you could finally put it to the test. To see how you fare, to see if it could actually prevent you from getting sliced and diced by the Harkonnens in the arena—albeit for a while. The main thing to keep in mind, as your mother had warned, was to keep your opponent on their toes, snapping not only their mental state but their body. Then, when the time is right, you steal their weapon and use it against them. Today you were permitted a small dagger, strapped and holstered on the outside of your thigh. Although you weren’t concerned about it, you told yourself you would use it as a last resort when they weren’t suspecting you to. You didn’t know how to dance with a weapon; you only knew how to bob and weave without one.

Count Fenring, the Siridar-Absentia of your homeworld Caladan, while the Atreides occupy the planet Arrakis, had dealings with the Harkonnens prior to your descent here. You were never meant to come here. But Count Fenring had called upon the rice labourers one day for a strange proposal. Gathering in the high-esteemed buildings and feeling out of place, your people had looked upon Count Fenring’s narrow, proud face. You knew him to be conniving and manipulative in nature, a renowned assassin, and the Emperor Shaddam’s right-hand man. He was neutral toward the labourers; as long as they kept up on the plantation of their planet’s rice, he had no issues. He would often make dealings with the noblemen and women of Caladan; it was very rare that the rice labourers were added to any conversation.

“House Harkonnen of Giedi Prime is seeking entertainment, to those willing-" Count Fenring’s voice boomed, sitting atop his makeshift throne.

His voice is cut off by your thoughts at the Planet’s name. Baron Vladimir Harkonnen of Giedi Prime, called your Count “The ambassador to the smugglers” in spice production.

He continues. “I know you do not get to leave your trusted duties among the fields very often, but consider this a gift of sorts - whoever is able, and willing to be “battle entertainment” to the Na-barron of House Harkonnen, Feyd-Rautha, will be permitted to win your chance at freedom to travel to a new planet, a new experience.. You don’t ever have to return.”

An audible chorus of gasps are heard amongst your peoples. Hushed angry whispers fill the room. You gape at the vagrant display of lack of remorse for human life. You knew little, but House Harkonnen enjoyed pleasures in gore and sadism, is what you did know. What’s in it for your Count? This has to do with spice dealings.

“Freedom to die?” a male voice questioned loudly. “You dangle freedom in the air as if House Harkonnen has any, and to dangle us in front of the Harkonnen brutes like meat!”

The crowd got louder and louder in frustration and opposition. The Count’s voice bellows as his army hits their swords to the ground in a clang to signify the rice labourers to quiet their naysayers. “Enough. To those who are not interested, you may leave. You are not forced to stay. To those that are, please remain.”

A number of your people shuffled out in a hurry, their bodies a large mass squeezing through the royal entryway. You blink. This is downright morbid. You had never considered such a thing before, as you only knew your planet to be worthy of laying down your roots until the end of time.

You feel your mother reach for your hands. They are warm, and so is her eyes as she peers into the core of your being.

Your planet is beautiful - access to bodies of lakes, rocky mountains, majestic trees and budding flowers, delicious rice...

“You should go.” she mutters. “Live for us.”

Her words a grim truth. Brutal honesty. And that was enough for you.

A handful of the peasants stay alongside you. Your mother places her lips upon your cheek in a chaste kiss. Your tear ducts well with water as her hand leaves your grasp. Somehow, you know it’s too late to turn back now. You don’t know what made you follow Count Fenring onto the ship and not look back. A chaotic chance for something other than field work? A plunge into absurdity?

You could try absurdity for a while, you decided.

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cursedkeyboard · 3 months

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BIG BROTHER'S HERE ● Older brother!Suguru & Baby sibling!Reader

You've been having nightmares about monsters lurking in your closet for a couple of days now. Suguru, your older brother, knows something is wrong with you.

Pairings: Platonic Geto Suguru & Baby sibling!Reader

Warning: Not proofread. Expect mistakes and edits!

If there's one thing Suguru had always been sure of, is that he knew you

Your parents had you when he was nine, most ten, so innocent and excited to be a big brother

He got to see you when you were just a bundle of hospital cloth, loud whines, and large eyes

No, really, your eyes took half of your face

You were the cutest thing he'd ever seen

From that day on, Suguru had sworn to be the best big brother to ever exist

He'd teach you everything he knew, help you with anything you wanted, and always protect you

Family and friends even called him your "second dad" whenever they saw Suguru putting you to sleep or feeding you or playing with you or...

Yeah, the kid loved being glued to you

Sure, he still had friends and his own interests like any other kid his age

But Suguru would rather be caught dead than to give up chances to spend time with you

He even begged his parents to let him take you outside in your stroller for sunlight and fresh air

It took then a little bit, but they eventually allowed him

Their neighborhood was safe, there were rarely any kidnapping cases around, and they only let him once you were one and he was eleven

As you grew up, Suguru definitely honored his promise by being the closest person to you

Always near, always helping, always nurturing

He knew your favorite type of baby food, the exact warmth you liked it at, the blankets you favored and the toys you never allowed anyone to take

Suguru would take naps with you on his chest, sing you to sleep when you woke up screaming, and play with you until you exhausted yourself

He was always there for you, especially when your parents were busy

So much so, in fact, that your first words weren't mama or papa

It was gu–gu

Yeah, some could say you were just being a baby and babbling, but he knew better

Because you had looked up at him, grabbed his hand with your tiny ones, and said it with a big smile

Don't tell anyone, but he definitely cried while hugging you

You'd eventually be able to say Sugu, then Suguru when you learned to roll your tongue, but Suguru would always hold that memory dear to his heart

And so, years passed quickly

Perhaps too quickly for your big brother, who would always feel his heart ache a little when his baby sibling didn't need help to do basic things anymore

But he was happy, overjoyed, that you grew into a happy and healthy child, always so energetic and ready for any play or challenge

Of course, you two had your disagreements at times, because kids will be kids and Suguru reached puberty when you were four and learning how to be bratty and contrary

However, compared to so many other siblings in the world, Suguru was proud to say you were definitely the closest of siblings

There wasn't a single thing he didn't know about you

That's why, now that you were seven and learning taking a more introverted personality like his own, your big brother immediately knew something was wrong with you once you started getting sleepier throughout the day

Blinking slowly, barely eating, nodding off whenever the two of you watched cartoons

And, now seventeen and keenly aware of so much evil in this world, Suguru immediately sought to fix the problem

The moment Suguru picked you up from school he knew he was going to talk to you about what was happening. It didn't seem to be the kids or teachers in your school, since the moment you walked out and saw him you were smiling and happy like aways, that rush of energy still in you from playing with your friends.

"Suguru!" You called out for him, quickly saying your goodbyes to the kids around you and running towards your tall big brother who stood out in the middle of all the waiting moms. "You're early!"

Suguru picked you up the moment you got close enough, making you squeal and giggle as he settled him on his broad back, smiling softly at how your small hands settled on his shoulders.

"We got let out earlier," He explained and waved a quick polite greeting at your teacher before leaving, beginning the trek back home. "Satoru wanted to go to the arcade but I missed my baby today."

You giggled again, a sound that never failed to make Suguru relax and forget all his troubles, if only for a moment, and rested your head in the crook of his neck. "'Toru is a big baby, not me!"

"Hmm, maybe you're both babies?"

"No, not me, 'Toru," You shook your head and Suguru avoided people walking around easily, being so tall and nimble had its advantages. "I'm getting bigger and bigger, and Toru acts like a child when I do not."

Well, he couldn't argue with that.

Instead, Suguru started asking you about your day like he always did and, like he expected, you couldn't even make it through half of your rant about the teacher taking away the yellow sharpies from everyone before falling asleep on his back, completely out.

Which, that in itself wouldn't be bad, but you used to spend hours after school talking his ears off, drawing, and insisting to watch cartoons. He sighed and moved you to his front, hugging you to his chest protectively, so worried he could feel a headache stab the back of his head.

Suguru was a special grade sorcerer, top of the class, and the most reliable when it came to problem solving skills, but most of all Suguru was the best big brother there is and he was going to fix whatever was wrong with you.

Like he always did.

That day, after you napped for a couple of hours, Suguru sat you down on the couch once he made sure you ate and showered

While he detangled your hair from the mess it had became in School, he started slow

Asking you if there was anything going on these days

If you were having any troubles in school

Maybe a bully or a new interest that was keeping you up?

It took a bit of digging, because Unfortunately, you two were very much alike

Which meant you also hid your anxieties and problems, even if Suguru always ended up finding out anyway

With a couple of deep breaths, you explained why you hadn't been able to sleep these days

Every night for the past week, you were getting nightmares

Nightmares about monsters, hideous creatures that would suck people's happiness then eat them bit by bit

And every time you woke up gasping and afraid, the door to your closet was open the slighest bit

Hesitantly, like you were afraid of being called a liar or made fun of, you told you brother you swore you saw something inside

Watching you. Waiting for something. Hungry.

And Suguru?

Not once did Suguru stop gently brushing your hair, keeping his hands steady and movements soft, which had a calming effect on you

But god, he could feel his body shaking under his skin

Fury threatening to bubble and spill over

Because those vivid nightmares, your exhaustion, the way you always looked so drained each morning...

He knew exactly what that meant and he couldn't possibly be angrier

Instead of scaring you with the face he was doing, Suguru started drying your hair, and once you finished talking, he hugged you close, comforting you

"It's alright, little one, I got you, big brother's got you."

That night, Suguru easily convinced you to have a sleepover in his room, full of your favorite stuffed animals and blankets

And when you were all tuckered out after talking tons and watching your favorite movie, snoring softly under Suguru's heavy covers, the teen left his room quietly

Slowly, he made his way towards yours

Shadows followed his every step, licking at his feet and dancing with each breath he took

The air shifted as he made his way inside, closing your door behind you, like it knew he was there

He pulled the door to your closet open, his movements ghostly as rage made his purple eyes almost glow in the night

The curse inside, a weak, puny thing he hadn't been able to sense, trembled under the taste of his erratic cursed energy

So pathetic and small

Fucking inconsequential

That thing dared to mess with his baby sibling

Make his baby sibling lose sleep as it sucked happiness and energy

So he did it slowly

Ripped it in pieces, bit by bit, until it was but a splatter on the floor

That night, he went back to his room after washing his hands and face, heart beating fast from the hatred coursing through his veins

Suguru lifted the blankets and tucked himself by your side, pulling you gently until he was curled around you

Then, only then, as you slept fitfully in his arms, safe and peaceful, he was able to calm down and relax

He would do better, grow stronger, kill every curse that dared to step food in a 100 mile radious of you

But Suguru knew there needed to be change

Curses had to disappear completely, one way or another

And Suguru would find a way, if not for the safety of his friends, then for yours

He would never let anything hurt you

No matter the cost

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eruden-writes · 2 months

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Room & Board - Part 20 (Vampire x Reader x Werewolf)

paranormal fantasy vampire x human eventual triad (x werewolf)

Anonymous asked:

For the prompt submissions a vampire that feels guilty after feeding/attacking someone so they leave obscenely valuable ancient artifacts as payment/an apology?

Links under cut!

x x x x x

First | Previous | Masterlist | Next

x x x x x

In the end, Jemma’s location spell does the trick. Well, kind of. The enchantment leads you through paranormal markets under the city, finding the right people to interrogate. It turns out vampires have few friends in your city. People who seek out vampires are either signing their own death warrant or ready to stake a few of the arrogant bloodsuckers.

Either way, it wasn’t anyone else’s business. One lead turns into a dead end. Another has no substantial foundation. Yet another tries to extort money and goods out of you, which led to Jemma actually turning that informant into a toad. With each new bit of information, you’re all led further and further out of the city.

Eventually, weeks after Tabaeus left, a tip finally strikes solid and true.

Two states away from home, you sit in a rental car with Jemma, Ewan, Liuva and Bjarka at a late-night diner. Despite the time of night and the fact the building is shuttered up, the mall across the way from the diner is seemingly popular.

Even when you ask the waitress - Tess, she/her - if there’s an event going on over at the mall, she shoots you a puzzled look. When her eyes flick up to the window, you spot a glaze tinting her gaze as she informs you, “Nothing’s supposed to be happening over there. The old mall is about as dead as it ever is.”

Even as the waitress stares, you watch one group head into the allegedly abandoned building as others leave. Some are elegant, others are crude and punkish. Yet it seems Tess does not see or notice them.

As the waitress falls into her rehearsed spiel, you share a look with Ewan and Jemma. Tess doesn’t seem to acknowledge the dense air settling around your group as you all realize she - and likely the rest of the diner’s staff - is under some vampiric sway. You push the discomfort away before ordering.

Something burns in your chest. Tabaeus has to be nearby. This feels like the right place, but you have no reason beyond the smoldering in your chest. You never felt like this with any other lead before. Or maybe you’re just tired of searching, sick of getting your hopes up.

After you’ve finished your meal - saying nothing further of the mall to the staff - the three of you trudge to the parking lot.

“What’s the plan?” Ewan takes out his phone, swiping through random apps. It’s only when he points vaguely toward the highway that you realize he’s putting on a front for anyone potentially spying on you. His green eyes tilt toward you, uncharacteristic seriousness making his words sobering, “Are we heading in now or biding time?”

“We should bust in, magic blazing.” From the backseat, Jemma leans forward, her own phone in hand. She, too, has taken up Ewan’s ruse.

Unlike the other two, you don’t bother with a phone. Shaking your head, you fight the urge to flick your gaze back toward the mall. “I think we should be subtle.”

Silence settles over the car as Jemma and Ewan continue to look at their phones, their hands, you. Anywhere but directly at the mall. If anyone watched your little crew, they’d believe it wasn’t even on your radar, you think.

Finally, something glints in Jemma’s eyes as she meets your gaze, raising her eyebrows. “Don’t malls usually have skylights or vents on the roof?”

“They’ll hear us coming.” Another shake of your head. Besides, how would the three of you get up there without causing a commotion?

Ewan nods to the back where the imps-turned-sugar gliders sit with ethereal intelligence gleaming in their eyes. The two have been silent as potential plans have bounced around the car. Upon them being noticed, Bjarka and Liuvia exchange a look. Wordless communication flies between them until Bjarka nods and says, “We will do it for a pie.”

You frown at their little demand. “I thought you wanted Tabaeus back.”

“We do,” Liuvia says, but they smile in a way that reminds you they are supernatural, “But we also want pie. A strawberry rhubarb one.”

With a heavy sigh, you glance from the imps to Jemma and Ewan. They both return your look with mild amusement and shrug.

“Ugh fine,” you sigh as you open your door. “You could’ve said something when we were still inside.”

“You didn’t ask,” chirrups one of the imps, though you’re not sure which as the door closes. You trek back to the diner, still fighting the urge to look toward the mall. Despite your efforts to remain realistic, you can’t help but feel a little lighter. As if you were one step closer to a conclusion.

—

It’s early morning, just as the sun half climbs above the horizon line, when you decide to put your plan into action. Through a scrying mirror conjured up by Jemma, you watch as Bjarka and Liuvia embark toward the mall from the nearby woods you deposited them in the night previous. The two dart along the dwindling shadows as dawn rises. As squirrels, they easily scale the building and prance along the roof with light steps. They duck and bounce around, taking stock of their options as far as vents, grates, and skylights go.

As the imps decide their next course of action, the rest of you wait. Liuvia and Bjarka eventually pry a grate off a vent and clatter into the metal tunnel. The image on the mirror follows as they scurry through the twisty ventilation. The motion and lighting makes your stomach cramp, so you turn away.

You sit in the backseat with Jemma, who continues to watch the mirror, eyebrows furrowed. In the front, Ewan drives. Last night, after leaving the imps behind, the rest of you drove off and found a clearing to hunker down in for the night. Sleep hadn’t been easy and, now, exhaustion battles in your veins with mounting adrenaline as you near the mall again.

Your plan banks on the fact Lachlan and Tabaeus are different - older, stronger, more powerful - than the average vampire. That should make walking into the mall-turned-vampire-nest easier. Well, as long as Bjarka and Liuvia managed to unlock a door for you.

As Ewan pulls the car into the mall’s parking lot and settles the car in a spot close to the door, he turns to Jemma. “How’re the smallfries doing?”

“They can see us and they’re unlocking the door now,” Jemma answers and, with a wave of her hand, the scrying mirror fizzles off. She’s already climbing out of the car, stowing the mirror in her bag. Despite long conversations last night, Ewan and yourself weren’t able to dissuade the witch from coming along.

“Ready?” Ewan pops his door open, though he’s still turned toward you. Concern etches into his features, as if he’s on the brink of saying you didn’t have to come along. He could handle this, he could save Tabaeus in your place.

But he can’t. Something in you knows this. With a swallow, you nod and open your own door.

The trek into the mall is short and blessedly uneventful. There don’t appear to be any vampiric thralls or familiars standing guard. Perhaps it is hubris on Lachlan’s part, but you don’t dismiss the possibilities of guards or problems deeper inside the building.

Liuvia and Bjarka hitch a ride in Jemma’s bag as Ewan leads your group, with you smack in the middle. He tilts his face up, nose twitching. The barest of a transformation touches Ewan’s features. Some thicker hair, a slew of stubble, the vaguest shift of a nose becoming a snout. He’s delaying the transformation to keep the vampires from sensing him, but you’re sure he’s nervous.

Hell, you’re nervous. You strain to hear the smallest sound, nearly holding your breath the farther you wander into the mall. For the most part, it’s silent. You don’t see or sense anyone else around, other than your group. Though that’s not saying much, considering you’re just a human. With a glance to Jemma, then to Ewan, you confirm nothing seems immediately suspicious.

Though their features are pinched as they focus, neither says or indicates a danger is nearby.

Faintly, you wonder how long he can hold a semi-shift as your eyes take in the corridor. Illumination surprisingly spills in from the sunlights. The stores appear chained and locked, the windows blacked out. Squinting at the locks and darkness, you wonder if there’s more beyond. Is each store a vampire’s personal territory? Is it like a hotel here? Or are they all lower in the building?

All five of you remain as silent as possible as you journey deeper and deeper. Past stores, through the food court, to a stairwell. Jemma conjures up a ball of light without further instruction, lighting the stairs. The aesthetic of the mall holds firm with tiled walls as you descend to the underground section of the mall. A vague chill creeps along your limbs, realizing you’re now underground.

Apparently, the basement is still a commercial area, you realized as the stairs open up to another floor of storefronts. Here, however, the stores are larger and, if you squint, you realize there’s faded signs like ‘bowling alley’ and ‘community development’ hanging over the entryways. No light manages to filter this far down, though. You try not to think about that as you follow Ewan, who keeps close to the walls.

Along with the faint chill, the silence of the area weighs heavily in your ears. It’s too quiet, even as your group scuttles over the expanse of tiled floor.

Quickly enough, you’re led down a slightly obscured hall, before Ewan finds another door. Pushing it open reveals a second set of stairs. This time, the stairwell feels industrial. There’s no happy white-and-blue tiled designs. Just stark metal and industrial grey that devolves into shadows as you peer down into the stairwell.

There’s a brief moment when you look at Ewan and Jemma. Their gaze seeks yours as well, checking to see if you’re still determined to continue. As one, the three of you nod. Jemma hoists the light a fraction higher and it glows a little more intently as you all descend.

The atmosphere grows colder, now raking across any bare skin. Dankness tinges the air as you notice thick gatherings of cobwebs and dead rats on the stairs. Eventually, you come to a landing that leads to a heavy door. The air is locked in your lungs as Ewan slowly shoulders the door open, obscuring your view as he peers around the other side.

After a beat, he opens the door further and the scent of damp and mildew overpowers the air around you. You choke down a cough as Ewan motions for you to follow him into a darkened hall.

If possible, it’s even harder to discern your surroundings now as you follow the werewolf. The shadows seem deeper, darker, more dangerous. The chill in the air bites at your throat. From the light of Jemma’s magic orb, your gaze follows various pipes and catches on rusted, industrial machinery. You have no clue what this all is. Elevator and escalator mechanisms? Gas piping for the food court? Long-abandoned generators?

Whatever is down here, you feel the vague sensation of continuing to go downward, on a gentle slope.

A startle rocks through you as you freeze, hearing something skitter on the concrete floor and echo in the distance. The other two pause. In the span of a breath, fur sprouts from Ewan and his face elongates further, his limbs and muscles growing. A crackle of energy hisses behind you, but you can’t bring yourself to turn and see what Jemma has conjured.

A low rumble of a growl catches in Ewan’s throat as you all wait.

Nothing and no one makes itself known. Slowly, you all carry on in the darkness.

You’re not sure how far you walk when Ewan stops and turns suddenly. You follow as he stalks down an adjacent hall - one you barely even saw - and stops at a wrought-iron door. This time, he doesn’t look at you and Jemma.

Ewan reaches for the large handle, yanking it open so fast your heart trips.

Soft, warm light spills over you from the room on the other side of the door. Rapidly, you blink to dispel the blots of blurry color. The room slowly takes shape in front of your eyes.

Lanterns hang around a large circular room, glowing low and vague. The room is as industrial as the rest of the underground hell, with large pipes and metal and machines. At odds with the metal, however, are mountains of cushions and fabrics draped haphazardly around the room. The pillows and fabrics - of all colors and styles and sheerness levels - bring some color to the deary grey, but somehow that makes the room worse. It sends agitation scraping down your spine.

Then your gaze lights on Tabaeus.

They are chained to a hulking system of pipes, lounging on a smaller hill of pillows. They’re naked, covered only in bruises and fresh bite marks. Their head lolls back, their hair a tangled waterfall. Your heart cracks at the sight, the rest of the world melting away as you step closer to them.

“You’re free to try and take Tabaeus, but… Well, they likely won’t go. This is what they know, this is home.” Lachlan’s voice shocks you from your thoughts. Your attention jerks to Ewan and Jemma, both looking as startled as you feel. Their attention doesn’t snap to the door you just entered from - nor any other dark crevice on your level.

No, you realize their attention is tilted upward. You follow the angle of their gazes and dread curdles in your guts. Lachlan is positioned overhead, on some sort of walkway that snakes through the pipes. He sits on a railing, draped in a way that screams egotistical ease and surety. Others linger behind him, ranging in muted hues and wearing clothing from an array of eras. More pallid vampires start to poke their attention out from the dark shadows of the room, all watching you with red eyes.

Mounting dismay fills your chest before you see Lachlan’s smile twists into something smug. In an instant, rage flares in your chest. Your hands fist at your sides, your shoulders straightening as you glare up at Lachlan. Somehow, through the sick sensations in your stomach, you manage to bite out, “Let Tabaeus be the judge of that.”

Lachlan’s answering chuckle makes your blood boil as he languidly motions toward Tabaeus. “Be my guest.”

#vampire #vampire lover #vampire x reader #2nd pov #monster lover #monster boyfriend #monster fucker #exophilia #exo writing #werewolf #monster love #monster romance #monster x human #room & board #r&b #room and board #tabaeus #ewan #reader

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trashland-llamas · 2 months

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Vignettes

x gn reader

Sanji who gets so high off of making out that you have to hold his head up as his head lulls back. Hands slowly burrowing into his hair. Short of breath with blood slowly trickling down his red and swollen lips. Cheeks flush a complimentary pink. A soft whimper falls from his lips if you’re bold enough to lick up the blood. Sanji tastes the expectant iron as you softly push your tongue down his throat. ‘Such a pretty boy.’ And all he can do is nod, rendered speechless.

. . .

'Don't eat, taste.' That simple statement would aptly describe how Sanji treats going down on you, no matter what bits or bobs you have downstairs. It's not another chore to complete or dish to make. Rather it's something to truly savor. Taking his sweet time, keeping eye contact with you throughout the whole ordeal, nose resting against your pubis mound. Sanji loves if you grip his hair. You'll have to yank him off you otherwise he'd spend all day down there if it wasn't for the pesky need of air. Switching to kitten licks as he pushes you into overstimulation.

. . .

Sanji is undeniably a bit of a perv. Even though you're together, he still indulges in old habits. Pocketing any of your dirty clothing he can get his hands on. He prefers used underwear but anything with a whiff of your scent will work. The sweatier, the better. Holding it to his nose as he jerks off. Door unlocked, wanting you to barge in and catch him in the act. 'Oh, but I thought you wanted me to watch.' Sanji groans, able to see the pit stains under your armpits with how you're leaning on the door frame. 'Don't apologize. It's intriguing how depraved you can become.'

. . .

It's a rare treat when you wake up before Sanji. The two of you still nude from the previous night's activities. He looks so relaxed, hair skewed across your chest and his lips parted as he softly snores. Arms loosely wrapped around your waist, legs tangled together. The duvet rides low on his hips. As the sun creeps a little higher in the sky, you take a finger and begin tracing his features with a feather like touch. He wakes up to you looking so fondly at him. 'How you sleep, lovely?' Sanji asks, grogginess lacing his features.

#mdni #2nd pov #tw blood #sanji vinsmoke #opla #one piece #one piece live action #opla x reader #sanji x reader #sanji x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #x gn reader #blood kink #scent kink #sweat kink

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blackrosesandwhump · 2 months

Text

Febuwhump Day 15: Who Did This to You?

CW: 2nd pov, injured, blood mention, unconsciousness

Something happened to you.

Your consciousness is nothing but a grey haze, letting certain sensations and noises through: pain in your head and neck, footsteps, voices, a low roar that could be wind or traffic. You’re conscious enough to realize that something’s wrong, and that’s it. No strength, no willpower, barely enough breath in your lungs.

The voices grow clearer. One of them filters through the strange haze that has you in its numbing grip.

“Who did this to you?”

You recognize the voice. Someone you care about, maybe. It sends a ripple of desperation through your veins, desperation to get up, open your eyes, do something, but all you can manage is a slurred “I…don’t know.”

“Who did this? I’ll kill them.” A pair of hands clamp onto you, heaving you upright. Your legs buckle; the hands grip tighter. An arm braces against your back. And now you taste something: blood, metallic and bitter. Your own blood.

Something happened to you. But what? And why do you feel like death?

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unhonest-iago · 4 months

Note

Dabi with a sick reader???

Achoo

Dabi has a lot of experience dealing with sickness, between being the oldest Todoroki child and having a piss poor immune system. So when you get sick, he physically cringes. Hiding it with his usual sense of sarcasm, ‘What, did the little prince/princess wake up on the wrong side of the bed?’ Only realizing it’s the wrong course of action when you whine at him, looking down-right miserable. He doesn’t question it, seeing the mountains of tissues and open cough medicine on the nightstand. ‘What do you need?’ He asks, stomping over. Wiping your sweaty hair away from your face. Already making a mental list before hearing your answer.

Walking through the aisles, knowing the league sure as hell doesn’t have the soup you requested. Or ice packs for the matter. ‘Soup and cuddles…just trying to get me sick.’ Not that he cares about his own well-being. Knicking a few gatorades while he’s at. If you were cognizant enough, he’d claim he paid for it with money.

Using a cutting board to carry it all to you. ‘Dabi, I can’t eat in bed!’

‘Do you have enough energy to get to the couch?’ He would absolutely carry you to the couch if you asked, but the question was more intended to make a point. ‘...’

‘Thought so, now let me take care of you.’ Cracking the ice pack so it’d activate, hoping it had enough time in the freezer to actually work its magic. Held in an oven mitt, he gently places it on your forehead. ‘Here comes the train.’ His deadpan delivery makes you laugh, quickly turning into a coughing fit. ‘Okay, no jokes, noted.’ Patting your back. ‘Thirsty?’ Seeing your nod, he lifts the bottle of gatorade to your mouth. Focused on not accidentally waterboarding you.

Taking the board, he places it near the door. Dabi toes off his boots, his jacket already hanging off the desk chair nearby. Crawling under the covers, he lets you guide his warm hands to wherever they’re needed most. Dabi doesn’t mind being used as an electric blanket if it helps you get better sooner. ‘Sleep, love.’ Promising he’ll still be there when you wake up.

#iago writes #iago’s requests #x reader #bnha x reader #touya todoroki #dabi todoroki #touya todoroki x reader #dabi x reader #sickfic #x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #2nd pov

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fanficsforheartandsoul · 1 year

Text

Not Like This | Valeria Garza x Fem!Reader

Note: A literal brain fart that I unexpectedly wrote in the afternoon after listening to girl in red today. Angst is seriously the only thing I can produce and feel good about somehow, like what the hell. I should bring this up in therapy next time. I didn't do much research for the fic so lots of stuff is just pulled out of my ass. Get ready for some typical cliché "dying-in-one's-arms" story. Feat. some random google translated Spanish sentences.

Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II (2022)

Warnings: Non-Canon Story, Character Death, Angst, Unrequited Love, Just Pain, Blood, Ghost made an oopsie

Summary: You wanted to touch and kiss her but not like this...

Word Count: 2,6k

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name! Or comment on the fic :)

Masterlist

"You don't have to do this!"

You practically beg but she just looks at you with that gaze, the one which says that she won't change her mind, no matter what.

She had held the same gaze when she informed you about her decision to take over the cartel and abandon your brothers and sisters in arms.

She is already in too deep at this point. You both know.

You had known for years since the moment when she took Pascale's hand and danced with him in that god-forsaken club.

He enticed her with an idea and she created El Sin Nombre. And it's all your fault. When you dumped that barrel with the son of La Araña in the river, you thought you had done the right thing and you turned your back on Alejandro and the others.

You watch her, her face is full of determination; it's almost like she's looking through you instead of at you, too captivated by her thoughts.

"It's for us. That deal will make sure our families and the ones after us won't ever grow up and live like we did."

"It wasn't that bad! And compared to how many people will suffer because of that man-"

"Not that bad? Y/N, we drank rainwater while my dead mother rotted in the bedroom! I had to stop Feliz from eating her! Your legs are like this because we didn't have access to proper medical care even in the military! We both suffered so much... But like this... With the authority I have now, these days are nothing but a bad dream! We have established schools and hospitals, and with this money, we'll help even more people!"

Your heart stings when she mentions your disability and the hand grasping your cane burns. She's right. You had suffered. But that was in the past. And compared to the suffering that this terrorist and his organization would bring upon the world...

You couldn't even look the people on the streets of Las Almas in the eyes anymore, how could you bear the weight of responsibility for the horrible crimes of that man?

Maybe you shouldn't have taken her hand when you were discharged from the military due to your increasing leg pain and weeks later she had shown up in front of your doorstep to take you into the hands of the cartel.

"He and those missiles will kill people, dozens of them! Innocent families, brothers, and sisters, little girls like Emilia... Valeria, please- Don't do this. The people hunting him will hunt you too. The Los Vaqueros, Alejandro-"

"We already made the deal. There are no takebacks, Y/N." There's no escape.

You stare at her. The ache in your chest that has been buried deep for years now, grows stronger.

You almost don't recognize her.

She's not the girl who took your first kiss at the age of 7. She's not the best friend you had since childhood. Not the teenager who made out with you when she was drunk at 17 and then didn't remember. Not the one who motivated you to follow your dream of joining the high school basketball team. Not the one who mesmerized you with her naturally glowing character who drew you in like a moth to a flame.

And yet...

You still love her.

And what could you do? You're already in too deep.

Years ago you decided to follow her until your feet couldn't carry you anymore.

You're a fool for her and if she decides to walk straight into hell, even then you will follow her.

You smile bitterly. She takes a step forward and grabs your right hand, her eyes staring straight into yours. Your heart flutters as always. The bitterness in your heart grows.

"You're my best friend Y/N, mi hermana. You know I'm doing this for us. Para tiempos más brillantes."

She doesn't see the tears threatening to fall from your eyes when she embraces you and you quietly sob into her arms. She holds you close and yet you've never felt farther away from her.

"para tiempos más brillantes" you whisper in her shoulder and for you these words are like a prayer, begging God or whoever to forgive you for your foolish heart and your foolish love.

A few days later you arrive in a black SUV for the cartel meeting.

The atmosphere in the house is already strange when you enter with Valeria. Diego greets you with a kiss on the back of your hand like always and once again you discreetly wipe your hand on your dress.

You hate participating in those meetings but to the cartel you're like a symbol, a symbol for the wealth and power that one can gain with the help of the cartel. So it's expected that you attend. And she likes it when you're with her.

You feel like a doll in that expensive dress Valeria gifted you. It's a light blue backless dress and compliments your shape.

She gave you this one with her typical words about wanting to make you feel good about yourself but you neither feel pretty nor good; the slit on the side shows off the scars on your leg and with your cane you give the image of a circus actor instead of a rich woman.

"You can rest upstairs", Valeria tells you and pats your shoulder and one of Diego's underlings wearing a black mask steps forward to accompany you.

"I'll see you in a bit."

"Yeah", you mumble and follow the guy. He tries to be discreet but you notice him looking at your feet right away and you huff inwardly. Yeah, she couldn't gift me expensive high heels unfortunately.

You're wearing flats because anything with heels hurt not only your feet but your legs as well.

On the highest floor you pour yourself a drink and sit on one of the chairs at the long round table.

You stare at the ice cubes in your class and watch as they slowly melt. Time ticks by and Valeria is nowhere to be seen.

It's pathetic how you wait for her like a puppy. But it's always been like this. She goes somewhere, you follow. When she's away, you wait for her, the only company your anxiety and worries.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a knock on the door.

The atmosphere has been weird before but when the guard tells you in a breathless voice that he will be right back, you know something is definitely off.

You're not on the comms and you don't have a weapon, you never bring one to these events because it "ruins your outfits".

But you don't have to worry much because right when you think about grabbing a kitchen knife just in case, Valeria and her lackeys storm through the door.

She's armed - unlike when you two entered the house. You immediately know something went wrong.

"Y/N", she says, her tone cold and you stand up quickly, "go on the terrace for a bit."

You blink perplexed. "What? Why?"

She gives you a look as she grabs the phone one of her men holds up for her.

"Solo hazlo!"

You continue to stare for a few seconds, but she turns away, not looking at you.

"Yes, El Sin Nombre" you sigh eventually. A guard offers you a gun and you take it silently.

You walk to the back of the room and leave through the door, the gazes of Valeria's guards burn on your naked back.

You sit on one of the loungers, letting your cane and gun rest by your side and you stare at the darkening sky. You know who she's calling in there and the guilt plagues your mind.

How did you two end up like this? This isn't the future you imagined for yourself.

Yes, you wanted to be by her side but not like this.

The 16-year old Y/N L/N didn't see herself as the closest confidant of a drug cartel boss. Your younger self didn't see herself involved with corruption and the distribution of narcotics. You didn't see yourself lying next to her, back to back, in a bed with a pistol under the pillow.

In your ideal future you would lay in her arms in a cozy bed in a house with room for you two and your family, her sister Emilia, your grandparents, maybe even a dog like Feliz. Just you, the love of your life and your family.

No guns, no drugs, just a happy life, satisfied with what you have.

But you know better. That dream will never come true. Valeria loves you, always has, but not like you love her. You'll never be more than her best friend.

And even if she saw you in a different light, your dream can never come true. The things you both have done in your past will haunt you.

You know it's only a matter of time until the USA will hunt you and the other drug cartels down. They'll purge everything they can get a sniff of. And then El Sin Nombre will pay the price. But you'll be right beside her.

"At least we can be together in prison", you say to no one in particular, a bitter smile on your lips.

You stroke the frayed strap of the bracelet Valeria had gifted you all those years ago in high school. Memories come up but they're interrupted by a low hum. Confused you turn your head, searching the sky when a loud bang and sudden gunshots ring out in the house.

In the blink of an eye you're on your feet, gun in hand with the safety off, your cane disregarded.

You hurry to the door right when it gets slammed open and Valeria runs into you. Shocked you lower your hands, mierda you almost shot her!

"Y/N!", she shouts, grabbing you by your arm. "We have to move!"

She pulls you with her but the low hum has turned into growling and the roar of spinning rotors accompanies the black helicopter who suddenly hovers over the house. You're trapped.

"Down! Get down, now!", someone in the helicopter shouts and god, you're so stupid but she's in danger and without a second thought you shoot at the man standing at the open in the helicopter, while trying to cover her with your body.

"Y/N!"

A lot happens in mere seconds. The man at the helicopter door ducks inside, the other soldiers scream and point their guns at you and you shoot once more when someone shoves you and the force sends you to your knees.

"Cease Fire, Immediately!!"

Shouts echo around you, two more men run on the terrace, rifle and gun pointing at you but you don't care.

You turn and stare at her and she looks you in the eyes. The brown is basically black in the dusk. The corners of her lips twitch as if she wants to smile. You notice the rapidly growing spot on her grey shirt, underneath her necklace on the left side.

You scream and she hugs you, forcing her whole body weight on you. You crumble completely to the ground, holding her close, one hand still clutching the gun.

"Target is hit- I repeat target is hit! Ghost what the fu-"

"Don't shoot! I know that woman!"

Y/N she whispers. She's not moving her lips but you know she called you. You stare into her eyes as she gasps for air.

"Ria, I got you- It's okay- I got you, I-"

You drop the gun and press onto the wound from the back. Your hands turn slippery from her blood.

One of the men walks up to you and kicks your gun away from your reach and as he hovered over you, you pull her closer, shielding her with your upper body.

No, no. This can't be happening!

Your heart beat resounds loudly in your ears, it drowns out the helicopter noise and the shouting soldiers. You feel naseous from the surging helplessness you feel. Until you hear a certain voice. It's familiar.

"Y/N, hey! It's me, Alejandro. Let me have a look at her, please."

Alejandro?

You lift your head, still holding eye contact with her. Her eyes are wide, shocked probably at the sudden development. You gulp but bile still rises in your throat.

Hands grab you, but they're not forceful and you straighten your upper body to give Alejandro the chance to look at her in your arms. You look at him, begging him to do something, to help- save her.

"...dro", she wheezes and he smiles but his raised eyebrows give his worry away.

"Valeria."

He reaches for her back where you hold her and when his hand finds yours, his face darkens. He stands up and turns towards the helicopter and waves at the blonde man inside, his red hand glistening.

"We need a medic now!"

The sentence flings you into the past.

"Necesito evacuación médica para Y/N!! Gómez, hijo de puta, call it in now!!"

Gunshots whizz past you two but Valeria doesn't care.

She puts more pressure on your legs and you just watch how her expression stirs from worry to determination.

You adore that face so much. Her sharp eyebrows, the straight bridge of her nose, her long eyelashes, the lines when she smiles. She's your own personal Aphrodite.

"...s beautiful..."

She looks at you scowling. "Shut up, Y/N! Don't go all woozy on me now! We'll get you out of here and you'll be just fine, okay?!"

You smile. Of course. You'll be just fine. After all, she's by your side.

"..can't do anything for her..."

You blink. The words pull you out of your distant memory. She's holding onto you, you realize belatedly. Her fingers dig into your skin but her grip is weak, too weak.

The two soldiers who got in front of you and checked her body retreat. You open your move to say something but she touches your face to get your attention.

"Y/N..."

She pulls you down, while moving her lips as if she wants to whisper something to you. Your chest painfully constricts.

Instead your lips meet. Someone says something but you don't hear them, too shocked by the sudden kiss.

It's more like a peck and it tastes like the alcohol you drank before but your chest almost explodes.

"D-Don't do that, Ria", you croak. The nickname is like poison on your lips.

She smiles. And kisses you again. Longer this time. You taste salt.

"Not like this- I don't want it like this! I haven't even- me cago en la puta, Valeria Martina Garza, you-"

You cover her hands with yours, smearing her blood on them as you grip her fingers tight, holding on like she's your lifeline. Your foreheads touch. The pain in your chest is tearing you apart. You feel like dying.

"Para tiem...pos más brillantes...", she whispers breathlessly and you sob, showering her face with kisses while cradling her in your arms. She huffs as if she's protesting.

"Don't fucking say that! Yo no puedo vivir sin ti!! I love you, Ria, I-"

The smile is still on her lips when her body goes limp in your arms. Your chest constricts as you breathe in shakily.

Tears fall and you rock her in your arms, holding the only one who ever mattered in your life in your arms and you scream, the pain in your chest never stopping.

How can I wish for better times when you're not with me?!

"Y/N L/N, what do you know about El Sin Nombre?"

"Ella era mi alma gemela. I'll tell you everything."

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al9ayf · 1 year

Text

ᥫ᭡ 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 | carlos oliveira x f!reader

✧ chapter 2 :: linger

｡˚ word count: 2.70k

｡˚ a/n: okay YES this took months to come out and i’m sorry 😭 i kept doing different routes with this chapter and i decided to continue some of it in the next cause it was getting way too fucking long. last chapter will be out hopefully within the next week or 2 i PROMISE !!

｡˚ tags: @mama-miya ty for the support and wait 🤍

at first, barely audible, but now too painful to bear—the constant, high-pitched ringing snapped you out of your peaceful sleep. you managed to open up your eyes despite the blinding light coming down onto them, and you realized that you were waking up from a dream just to go back into a nightmare. you wanted to shut your eyes again. you wanted to go back to sleep. but that ringing in your ears and the throbbing of your head didn’t allow you. you took one last long blink before completely opening up your eyes again. your back ached, and you realized that you were laying down on an uncomfortable bench. you groaned loudly as you sat up, placing a hand on your head as you did so due to the pain.

jill turned around to face you in the midst of you coming to. she let out a relieved sigh as she walked over. “finally you’re awake, thank god…” she said, sitting down next to you.

you turned your head to look at her. “more like unfortunately,” you groaned. “what happened?”

she leaned back against the wall. “mikhail blew up the train because of that fucker…” she said. “and that was after nicholai tried to kill us.” you let out an “oh” as you started to remember the events.

“jesus,” you exclaimed, looking down at the ground. “so everybody died but us?” jill nodded her head, almost hesitantly, and you muttered a “fuck” in reply. you slowly stood up from the bench and limped over to the table in the room. you flipped over the big piece of paper that had been sketched on and grabbed the pencil that was right next to it. jill came up next to you and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“what’re you doing?” she asked.

you started sketching on the piece of paper. “i’m coming up with a plan,” you said. “that tyrant after you? umbrella created multiple versions, but only some succeeded.” your sketches turned into a map with various writings everywhere.

“from what i know, your best shot at killing the tyrant is to somehow destroy its heart. its second form would be your best bet,” you said, glancing at her.

she raised an eyebrow. “what? what do you mean by the second form?” jill asked. her voice sounded a bit shaky.

“i meant what i said, there’s nothing more to it,” you replied. “it’ll be faster, stronger, but also more vulnerable.”

“good to know.”

jill sighed and moved away to lean against the wall. you could tell she was on the verge of defeat, but you needed her, and she needed you. you set the pencil down after sketching for a few more minutes and then handed her your makeshift map.

“that’s nest two,” you said. “it’s underneath the spencer memorial hospital. half of my work is there, and so is a vaccine.”

her eyes widened as she turned to look at you. “and you’re telling me this now?” she asked. “that means we can save the city.”

“but it’s difficult to get there, especially with that thing after you constantly,” you said. “unimaginable creatures are in that lab, lurking...”

“nothing i can’t handle,” said jill, folding up the map and shoving it in her back pocket. “let’s get going.”

hurriedly, the two of you stepped out into the corridor and shot down every zombie that was in your way. you walked up a flight of stairs, and at the left end side of the room was a ladder up to the surface. jill headed up first, and you followed soon after. the scream of the tyrant could be heard close by, which only made you shiver in fear.

“that fucker’s still alive. we can’t stay here,” she muttered. you agreed with her, and the both of you continued walking. the clock tower was at the other end of the river, so you two walked up a flight of stairs and onto the bridge. it was so silent, so the sound of a fence breaking and heavy footsteps running caught your attention.

you and jill ran up to the railing, and you watched almost in awe as the tyrant that was hunting down jill fell into the water while lit on fire. she, on the other hand, finally seemed relieved when it didn’t pop up out of the water. “bitch can’t even swim…” she muttered.

she turned around and continued walking, but you didn’t move. it couldn’t have been that easy to defeat such a persistent tyrant. jill noticed that you weren’t next to her, so she turned around to see where you were. she walked up to you, watching how the muscles in your face were contorting.

“what’s wrong?” she asked. you looked at her, then back at the water.

“how can a tyrant be defeated so easily?” you asked. “it doesn’t make sense, jill…”

“no, it doesn’t. but as long as it stops coming after my ass, i don’t care how it’s been stopped.” she ushered for you to follow her, but neither of you moved. your eyes just stayed fixated on the surface of the water as it started to bubble. it was as if something was about to break through the surface.

it suddenly stopped, but you knew it didn’t go away. you grabbed jill’s hand and took a step away from the railing. “we were wrong.” you whispered.

you yanked her away and started running toward the other end of the bridge. that’s when the tyrant jumped out of the water and landed right in front of you. due to the sheer amount of force it gave out when it landed, you both fell.

“so this is the second form you were talking about?!” she yelled, scooting backward away from it. you nodded; too shaken to even reply.

it started running towards you and jill, but the two of you quickly rolled out of the way. you started running towards the stairs while it ran close to you, but jill stopped to push down a bunch of scrap metal onto its head to slow it down. instead of going down the stairs, you managed to gather up enough courage to jump over the railing and drop on top of a bus. jill followed suit and grabbed your hand to help you jump down onto the ground with her. the entrance to the clock tower was right there.

jill ran inside first and pressed the button to close the gates. you ran inside just in time, and when you turned around, she wasn’t there anymore. instead, jill was on the other side. once the gate shut, you grabbed onto the bars and narrowed your eyes at her. “jill?! what the fuck are you doing?!”

“it’s me this fucker is after,” she said, taking out her radio. “might as well take your advice…”

she passed her radio to you. “the gate will open again, so don’t worry about it. i’ll meet up with you and carlos at the hospital.”

she turned around to face the tyrant, and you could only watch as she started to fight it once again. you knew there was nothing that you could do, so you turned around and ran out of there. you needed to go find carlos. once you left the immediate area, you took out jill’s radio and turned it on. you got no idea how to work one, so you just held a button and prayed that carlos would answer.

“carlos? you there?” you asked. it was silent on the other end for a couple of seconds. you felt like you were going to throw up because you were so anxious. please pick up.

that’s when static came through. “y/n?”

you smiled as you clutched the radio. “thank god! i’m so glad you answered!” you ran over towards an alleyway and hid behind one of the dumpsters to not attract attention.

“what’re you still doing in the city? i thought the train left,” he said worriedly.

“it did, but…”

you sat there for the next two minutes explaining to him what had happened. how nicholai left you and jill to die. how mikhail killed himself just to save you two. and how jill was now fighting the damn tyrant herself. you cried the whole time. carlos tried comforting you over the radio, but you blatantly told him that it wasn’t working. you needed to see him, so he told you that he was in the raccoon city police department, but told you to wait for him right where you were at. you told him “no” and said that you’ll meet him there.

the building was once a museum, a pretty big one too; you could find it easily. and just like hours before, you silently made your way through the city. you didn’t want to get caught, especially since you got were bitten. you didn’t think much about your hand, but without anything to distract you, or anybody to talk to, you suddenly felt the pain. you bit your cheeks to not make a single noise as you held your left hand. the pain was something you could not describe at all even if you tried.

when you finally saw the police station, you felt a sense of ease wash over you. you never thought that you would be so happy to be at a police station, let alone the one in raccoon city. the side entrance to the building seemed broken into, but before you could use that route, carlos came running around the corner.

“y/n!” he almost yelled. he sounded shocked because of how fast you got here. he ran right up to you and hugged you. you quickly hugged back in surprise.

“you’re okay…” he said, pulling away. “i got worried after you hung up.”

“i appreciate the concern, but the only person you should be worrying about is jill,” you said frantically, grabbing his hand. “she’s at the clock tower. i’m not the best at fighting a tyrant, so you two meet me at the spencer memorial hospital.”

“why there?”

“i can create a vaccine to help save the city. the sooner we get there, the better.”

“then we kill two birds with one stone.”

you raised an eyebrow. “what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“we’re looking for a man named dr. bard. he said he was at the hospital, so while you create the vaccine, i can get him,” said carlos.

“oh, that asshole…” you rolled your eyes.

carlos moved his hand out of your grasp and pressed it onto the small of your back. “tyrell should be coming right after you then. so please stay safe until then.”

you nodded your head. “always, carlos.”

he leaned his head down towards yours and gave you a quick but soft kiss on the lips. after you pulled away you let out a small sigh.

“let’s talk once you two come back,” you said. “i think me trying to push it away isn’t working…”

“agreed,” carlos laughed.

you said your quick goodbyes and headed in opposite directions. finally, you were going to the hospital.

—

carlos had radioed you only a few minutes ago, explaining how jill got infected after defeating the tyrant. you told him that once the two got back a room would be prepared for her. you made sure to get all the right equipment and comfort once they would arrive.

the moment you started working on the iv fluids was the moment carlos busted in with jill in his arms. you almost had a panic attack with how hard he opened those doors, but you told him to lay her down on the bed quickly. as he went to do that, you went ahead and grabbed a pair of latex gloves. you didn’t need more germs getting inside of her at this point.

you cleaned the area on her arm before checking for veins. once one finally managed to pop up, you carefully slid the needle in and secured it with a bandaid. there was no medical tape, so this was the best next thing to do. you made sure the fluids started going before finally leaving her be.

carlos let out a long-awaited sigh before sitting down on a chair nearby her. you threw away the pair of gloves and turned around to face him. “i didn’t have time to search the hospital,” you said, leaning against the counter while crossing your arms.

“it’s fine,” he sighed. “i need to find bard in here somewhere, so i’ll scavenge for other materials if you need me to.”

you stayed silent for a second before pushing yourself away from the counter and walking towards him. you grabbed the lanyard hanging from your neck and passed it to him. “my id opens up every door in this place.”

he grabbed it from you and thanked you. “but what if it doesn’t work?” carlos asked.

“if it doesn’t work, then there’s no way in hell we’ll survive the lab…”

your gaze lingered on him before you slowly turned around and walked away. you started washing your hands in the sink right as you heard carlos stand up and start readying his gear. you felt your heartbeat racing just a bit faster—you needed to tell him now. right as he walked over to the door, you cleared your throat.

“it’s you,” you said, shutting the tap. “you are the reason why i’m in this situation.”

carlos’ hand was on the door, but the sound of your sad voice and truthful words made it slip back down to his side. he turned around to see you, but you kept your back to him.

“what do you mean?” he asked.

“you wanted the truth back at the train station, so i’m telling it to you,” you said, finally turning around. “umbrella forced me to work with them because they threatened to kill you. so i did what i had to do.”

you made your way to him. “i wasn’t allowed to communicate with the outside world. i was stuck in a lab for months, baby… i suffered, but i did it because i love you.”

you grabbed his hands and looked straight into his eyes.

“jesus, y/n…” he muttered. “you could’ve told me.”

you shook your head. “it was better if you didn’t know.”

carlos opened his mouth to say something, but the sound of jill’s painful moans caught your attention. you hurried over to her to try and find the source of the pain, leaving carlos to stand there awkwardly on his own. your eyebrows furrowed in concern as you watched her skin become whiter and the area around her eyes become darker.

“she doesn’t have much time,” you said, walking back up to him. “you must go and find that vaccine… now!”

“on it!” carlos quickly ran out of the room to search the hospital. you were now alone with jill. the first thing you did was try and lessen her pain with some painkillers that you forced her to swallow. and once she was stable enough, you brought a chair over to her and sat down on it.

the bandage that covered your bite mark had become dirty. you needed to change it. you carefully removed it, wincing at the pain it gave when you did so. finally, you could see your hand. you expected to see some blood or pus or something, which there was, but your hand was turning black. you didn’t feel any panic or anxiety though. just intrigued at how you weren’t turning yet. you stood up and headed over to stand under the light to examine what was going on.

the blackness was ever so slowly spreading to your wrist, but it was at such a slow rate it seemed like it would take days to even get to that point. you only washed your hands before wrapping the bite up again with a new bandage. you don’t know why you weren’t doing anything about it. all you thought about was if you were immune or not, and that this needed to be kept secret.

nobody needed to know of this.

ch. 3 !

#carlos x reader #carlos oliveira x reader #carlos oliveira #umbrella #re3 #resident evil 3 #re3r #resident evil 3 remake #female reader #poc reader #mixed reader #2nd pov

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melodrangea · 5 months

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i’m in a total writing slump so if anyone wants to request the smallest most obscure characters in Soul Eater I will prioritize them (challenges hype me up)

especially Kilik, I love writing him sm

he’s my bf and he doesn’t know it yet 💋💋💋

I’ll also continue to work on my other requests in the meantime

(expect a post dump sometime later this week)

-Melodrangea <3

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hi-i-love-u-bitch · 2 years

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Idk it's just better tat way 😙

#meme #drake meme #fanfic #fan fiction #x reader #2nd pov #bnha #pokemon #demon slayer #kny #undertale #deltarune #supernatural #sherlock #sonic the hedgehog #fnaf #sanders sides #fandom #nanbaka

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emeraldhazeart · 1 year

Text

Sorry to ask this, but if you answer, please reblog so this poll reaches more people. Thanks xx

#Reader insert #2nd pov #Poll #Y/n #Reader's name poll

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eruden-writes · 25 days

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Room & Board - Part 21 (Vampire x Reader)

paranormal fantasy vampire x human eventual triad (x werewolf)

Anonymous asked:

For the prompt submissions a vampire that feels guilty after feeding/attacking someone so they leave obscenely valuable ancient artifacts as payment/an apology?

First | Previous | Masterlist | Next

x x x x x

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x x x x x

Lachlan’s answering chuckle makes your blood boil as he languidly motions toward Tabaeus. “Be my guest.”

Looking back to Ewan and Jemma, you find them both tense and glaring up at the enemy. Ewan has given up the partial transformation, fur sprouting along his whole morphing body as his snout elongates and a growl bubbles in his throat. Jemma’s battle-readiness is less obvious, but you feel a crackle in the air and swear her eyes glow, but it could be a trick of her light orb. At your movement, their attention bounces to you. Ewan nods encouragingly, though Jemma’s eyes quickly dart back up to Lachlan and the other vampires.

Briefly, regret thrums at how you’ve pulled the two of them into this fight, but you turn back to Tabaeus. You all knew the potential risks.

Softly, you step closer to Tabaeus and finally take in their state.

Nude and sprawled on pillows, manacles on their wrists and ankles, Tabaeus stares listlessly at the ceiling, seemingly unseeing even the other vampires crowded on the overhead walkway. As you come closer, their eyes swing slowly toward you. A lump catches in your throat at the sight of their red-rimmed eyes, the fresh bites on their body. Something about their flesh seems more sickly.

“Oh, is it feeding time?” Their words are so hollow and distant, it takes your mind a moment to realize Tabaeus is the one who said them. They push themselves upright, languidly standing in a smooth movement.

As they near you, you recall how their height once terrified you. They loomed over you that first meeting just as they loom over you now, but your heart twists as you blink back tears. You never thought you’d see them again. Relief and dismay clamber through your head as you see Tabaeus whole but harmed.

Tabaeus reaches out a hand and you unthinkingly mirror them. Just as your hand is about to graze their shoulder, theirs grabs you roughly by the hair. Pain arcs over your scalp as they yank your head forcefully to the side, baring your throat to them.

“That is not a meal,” Lachlan drawls, though dark amusement twitches at the corner of his lips.

“Is it not?” Tabaeus pauses, their red eyes flickering up and behind you to where the other vampire stands.

“No, this bloodbag seems to think you know them.” That amusement has turned to cruel glee and you hear a barely contained laugh catch in Lachlan’s throat. A wave of titters arise from the other vampires, like a colony of squeaking bats.

“No, I do not know any bloodbags.” Tabaeus blinks before regarding you with an empty laziness, still holding your head at an angle. You’re not even sure they’re trying to remember.

Too many words and feelings gum up your throat. As you struggle to swallow, only three words break through your lips, “Tabaeus, please remember.”

The use of their name makes them pause, their eyebrows ticking upward. Encouraged, a slew of words breaks past the lump in your throat as your hands curl around the wrist of their hand still buried in your hair, “You’ve lived with me for months, Tabaeus. We’ve gone shopping together and you’ve bought so many clothes. And you brought Liuva and Bjarka, your imp sugar gliders, off a man on a subway. We bought a house and you’ve made friends with me and Ewan and…”

You trail off as the words choke up your throat. Tears swell in your eyes, but try as you might to blink them back, they overcome the edge of your lashes. Instead you sniffle and nod toward Ewan, hoping Tabaeus will understand.

Their eyes flicker in the werewolf’s direction. You believe their eyes meet, for Tabaeus’s pupils first constrict then dilate. Like a cat spotting a dog before realizing they’re an old friend. Tabaeus’s attention jerks back to you.

Complicated expressions flit over their face. Disgust, intrigue, denial… You watch, hoping to spot recognition or fondness. Anything to let you know they didn’t truly forget. If such an emotion crosses their eyes, however, you do not spot it.

“I… I…” Tabaeus’s eyes trail over your face, watching as a tear cascades down your cheek. They swallow, harshly shaking their head to dispel the mental chaos their thoughts must be in. Their words come out the tiniest bit ragged, “I apologize, I truly do not know you.”

You open your mouth to challenge that notion, but you freeze as Tabaeus leans close. Their nose brushes against your throat, the gentle nuzzle sending goosebumps over your skin. Their words tease against your throat, “But you smell sweet. Delicious."

"Tabaeus, please you have to remember,” you desperately croak, blinking back tears as conflicting feelings spiral through you.

“Don't play with your food." From somewhere above, Lachlan’s voice sounds and cold hatred lurches through you.

Confusion dots Tabaeus’s brow and they look up toward the other vampire. “I thought you said they were not food.”

“If you don’t remember them, why waste prey that wanders so willingly into our den?” You can just imagine Lachlan shrugging carelessly, a sleazy smile tilted at his lips. For a brief moment, you think you see Tabaeus’s eyes narrow, something calculating behind their gaze. As if they don’t quite believe Lachlan.

That hope evaporates as they eventually intone, "Yes, master.”

You don’t get a chance to shout as Tabaeus descends on you. Somewhere behind you, you hear Ewan snarl loudly and Jemma make a strangled cry, before a scuffle sounds, punctuated by the hiss of what you assume is magic.

Tabaeus’s cool grasp is painful, unyielding, on your shoulder and head as they force you to bare your neck. Twin pains sink into your throat. A sob escapes you, the taste of blood dances on your own tongue.

But you don’t fight or pull away. Wrenching your eyes shut, ignoring the tears streaming down your cheeks, your arms wrap around Tabaeus. They’re tense under your touch, prepared to fight your struggles. When it doesn’t come, you think you can feel their confusion and curiosity wind through their body. Pulling them closer, you focus on your short acquaintance, wanting those memories to be close to the surface.

The frightening first night. The agreement. Shopping for new clothes for them. Getting a house and sharing the home with the sugar gliders. The journal. Going out with Ewan together, the food, the movie, and other delights. Every second of fear, friendship, love, lust, anger, frustration, uncertainty blends through the recollections. All the images and feelings flood your brain, tangling with the pain and fending off the memories of others that fight for screentime.

Pain throbs through your head, mirroring the ache at your throat, but you refuse to fall to unconsciousness, refuse to let the foreign images take root.

With a gasp, the vampire breaks from your throat. Blearily, you blink up at Tabaeus, their lips stained as red as their eye color. Their eyelids flutter rapidly, but a few red-tinged tears roll from their eyes and down their cheeks. You realize their hold quavers as they croak, “Amata.”

“You remember,” you softly breathe, a smile on your lips even as the rest of the world wobbles in your sight. Slumping in Tabaeus’s arms, boneless from relief and blood loss, you watch as their eyes desperately wheel about the room as they turn. When they’ve taken in the entire predicament, they still. Their brow pinches and you follow their gaze to where Ewan and Jemma scuffle with vampire underlings.

Tabaeus raises their hand, chain clanking against their manacle. Pressure pulses through the air and the vampires that surround your friends pause, eyes flying wide a brief second before their bodies hurl against the far wall. A flinch rattles through your body as you hear bones crack, but you’re too muzzy-headed to dwell on what you’ve seen. You hear some of the vampires above scuttle warily to the far reaches of the room.

The room shifts around you as Tabaeus hefts you in their arms, crossing the short distance to Ewan, who looks to where his previous opponents have been tossed. When his gaze flicker to your mutual friend, his eyes widen with guarded hope and uncertainty.

“Hold onto them,” the vampire orders and shoves you into the werewolf’s furry arms. You only faintly notice Jemma move closer, peering over Ewan’s arm to survey you. When she sees you’re conscious, a tension in her shoulder eases.

Ewan only manages to nod, bringing you closer to his chest in a protective gesture. Even as Tabaeus turns away, you can feel Ewan’s fur bristle and you wonder if it’s from adrenaline of the fight or wariness of the pressure surrounding Tabaeus. Peering up at the werewolf, you catch hints of the scuffle. Awry fur, blood – his or a vampire’s, you’re unsure – flicked across his maw and body, a long gouge bleeding at the juncture of his shoulder and neck. The tang of blood fills your nostrils as he draws you closer.

“You,” Tabaeus growls, drawing your gaze from Ewan. Your vampire’s gaze is tilted upward toward Lachlan. Shadows darken and dance along the floor and in the corners of the room. The temperature in the air drops a degree for every second the two maintain eye contact.

A crackling sound echoes through the air, your eyes widening as you find the source. Cracks form in the manacles, flakes of rusted metal fall off in chunks as the restraints slowly disintegrate.

All languid smugness has melted away from Lachlan, leaving only brittle fear behind. The vampire moves to stand atop the overly large pipe he has positioned himself on, hands raised in a placating manner. “Now, I’m your master, a kind one if I—”

An inhuman sound escapes Tabaeus – a discordant keen – and a pipe near Lachlan squeals, a crack racing along its side, effectively interrupting the other vampire.

“You are a neophyte compared to me, Lachlan Barrett.” Tabaeus’s eyes glow, their head adjusting angles like an animal scenting prey. A small contingent of Lachlan’s followers, no more than five, erupt from the shadows in a shrieking cacophony. Two angle toward Tabaeus, three toward you, Ewan, and Jemma.

Your werewolf tenses, hunching to shield you with one arm extended to fight, and the crackle of magic comes from where Jemma stands. Tabaeus doesn’t even turn as they make a slicing motion in the air, chain rattling.

The breeze of the motion wafts over you, gently, but the five vampires freeze mid-air. Then they fall, bifurcated at the same angle as your vampire’s hand movement.

Tabaeus’s fingers crook from their outstretched hand, flexing, before one arm yanks hard against a crumbling chain. The metal snaps loudly, but your vampire’s voice rings over the sound, “Or should I call you Locke Barista, the allegedly genius playwright who never sold a manuscript?”

Fear flutters through the vampires, all watching the Memory Keeper with wide eyes. You think you catch shocked mutters, confusion. How could such a vampire, considered weak and of no more use than a scrapbook, do this?

Concerned gazes flicker between the two and you’re not sure what keeps the others from fleeing. Is it macabre curiosity? An animalistic need to see which vampire comes out on top, to become the leader?

Or is it Tabaeus’s influence, that pressure that stifling weight that hangs heavy in the air? Are they somehow keeping the other vampires tethered to their spots?

With another snap of metal, your peripheral catches Tabaeus snapping the second chain attached to their wrist manacle as they continue speaking to their potentially captive audience, “Hector Tannud, the selfish Frenchman Casanova that lost everything at the gambling tables?”

The temperature in the room drops, shadows crawling out to meet Tabaeus’s own shade. Ewan tenses and, after a glance up, you find his ears pinned back, the fur along the crest of his head and back of his neck rising. Jemma, too, stills from fussing over you, her own glowing eyes warily on the scene.

When your gaze turns back to them, you share a quick sputter of the concern in Jemma’s features.

Tabaeus has morphed, so similar to that first night when they descended on you. Taller and lanky and turning a dark shade of purple-black, their long hair plastering to their body and becoming fur. Limbs spindly and inhuman and tipped in claws so sharp, you think they could slice a molecule in half. The sneer on their face becomes vicious and serrated, as their nose flattens and ears grow.

Darkness suddenly surges toward Tabaeus and you yelp, attention swiveling toward Lachlan, believing he was the culprit of the sudden movement. However, as soon as you spot the other vampire, your eyes widen.

Solidifying from the shadows behind Lachlan, Tabaeus has a hand on Lachlan’s throat, graceful hand coming around to grasp it from the front. Their claw traces the side of the other vampire’s face. The bump in Lachlan’s throat bobs as he struggles against the grip.

Tabaeus stoops behind Lachlan, a dangerous seductiveness painting their movements as they lower their head to the juncture of his throat and shoulder. In spite of the lurid sensuality of Tabaeus’s movement, their voice rings out harsh and mocking. “Hardwin the destitute tanner who smelled of shit and piss and would do anything, even sell out his entire village, to save his own scrawny throat?”

The other vampires still do not move, watching as Tabaeus blatantly demonstrates how their master – the strongest among them – is nothing but prey.

“I remember every insipid identity you took – every identity you all have taken –“ Tabaeus snarls, pointing their free hand, index finger tipped in a dark claw, at all present with a sweeping arch. Their words echo along the shadowy pipes, plunging into every dark corner. “You all are nothing more than quibbling little cum stains barely released from your progenitor’s quim!”

The anger in their voice echoes around the room, rattling through the pipes and making bolts quiver. Quiet weighs heavy a realization sinks in to all the enemies present. Tabaeus has been there far longer than any of them. They carry the memories of all present, know every little secret pleasure and vice and weakness.

Lachlan must find some frayed string of survival instinct in the following silence. Or perhaps it’s sheer fear that makes him act foolishly. With a pathetic gasping cry, he turns into a bat, flapping frantically for salvation above.

Even from down below and in such a beastly form, you see Tabaeus’s feature crimp with disgust. In a smooth movement, he launches himself upward, once more morphing.

Where Lachlan has taken the form of a bat, roughly the size of a football, Tabaeus is something far more grand. Still the size of a human – though far shorter than their usual form – with a wingspan that had to be as long as you are tall, they remind you of viral pictures you’ve seen of megabats. It’s no great feat when they overtake Lachlan, curling around the little creature like a white blood cell eating a virus.

Ewan seems to understand what’s happening faster than you and he stiffens, spinning around and hunching over you as the two plummet down. You hear their bodies hit the ground. The impact vibrates through the room and rattles through your bones. Something farther into the room creaks ominously before it thuds heavily to the floor, a litany of cries and shrieks bursting through the vampire crowd.

Trembling, you shove away from Ewan and peer around his form just in time to see Lachlan cry out and shift back to a more human form.

Beastly Tabaeus sits atop the younger vampire, their long-clawed hand pressing the other vampire’s face solidly into the metal floor. A disgusted sneer curls at their lips as their other hand claws down Lachlan’s back.

Beside you, Ewan shakes. Throwing him a sidelong glance, you find his eyes wide, nostrils flaring, ears pinned back, fur bristling.

With his face squashed down and hair in disarray, Lachlan looks even more pathetic, eyes red-rimmed with blood tears as he scrabbles to break free from the hold.

The rest of the vampire coven do not move. Eyes wide. Faces paled. Some look like they are about to be sick. Wildly, you wonder if Tabaeus is doing what Lachlan had done at the library. Have they frozen their audience in place? Stopped time? Your thoughts flick to the shrieks from earlier, wondering if the victims were unable to move due to whatever Tabaeus is doing.

Your mind swirls so fast with thoughts, you feel as if you’re going to get motion sick.

“You have kept my mind muddled with the memories, the thoughts, of this peanut gallery of vapid nightwalkers.” Tabaeus growls and draws your attention back to the two vampires. Their hand on the back of Lachlan’s head twists, grinding the other vampire’s face harder against the floor. “What do you have to say for your transgressions, Hardwin?”

x x x x x

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#exo writing #exophilia #vampire #2nd pov #second person pov #monster lover #monster romance #vampire romance #vampire x reader #paranormal romance #room & board #room and board #tabaeus #ewan #reader #x reader #vampire on vampire crime #lol

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