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#vampire!141
8-rae-rae-8 · 2 days
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Vampire!141 transformations
(implied Soap death, he's not actually dead)
Price is the oldest vampire on their team, born into the undead life. He'd seen his fair share of death. In a way, he envied their final moments.
Gaz's transformation is the second least traumatic of them all, guided gently by Price as he begged to turn him on the field after a fatal wound. And Price listened.
Ghost is the second oldest, turned vampire as his body forced itself to work with the bite Roba had given. A weak bite to turn him, but would take days to work. He couldn't last days in the coffin. So his body, with the slightest bit of supernatural blood in his veins, forced it to mutate. His transformation was agony, pure agony. Unlike the rest of the 141, however, his powers are one of the weakest. They come and go, like pulses. When he's angry, he seemes to subconsciously hiss and sizzle with the feeling. That was used and abused by Shepherd until he was transferred to Price. He was used as a sort of 'familiar' by Shepherd. Only with the 141 did he have any freedom.
Soap's transformation was a last minute hope. Ghost's teeth, oversharpened and sore from no use, sunk into his neck to find a barely usable pulse. Turn him, damnit. But it didn't *work*. Not until Price's fangs dipped into the holes Simon's left, and *he* took care of it. (Ghost couldn't figure out if it was more or less traumatic than his.) It just barely worked, but Soap was dangerously ill for weeks. Resulting in delicate feeding and very cautious contact.
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ethereal-night-fairy · 2 months
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This dark vampire poly!141 x hostage!reader idea is based off a comment I got on one of my works on Ao3 I would love to tag them if they were on Tumblr but I don't think they are.
Comment : Oh I'd love a vampire au! An idea for it if you are open to consideration: the 141 have been around for centuries, John pretty much turned all of them starting with Simon, then with Johnny, and then with Gaz being the youngest (although Gaz is still over a century old). Reader, of course, is human, moving to a new town to start over completely and ends up running into one of them. And they just know that reader is the missing piece that they had been looking for--the one that is the last to be bound to them. Because for an immortal creature it only makes sense that they would, in even just the name of species preservation, have multiple mates dictated by fate, instinct, or what have you :)
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This sounds like a great premise for a vampire au. Also what if Knight price was turned in the medieval ages by a vampire lord he was tasked to kill and ended up being turned as he killed the last of the vampire kin for the English king. He fled obviously when he realised what happened letting his knights think he was killed in battle.
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Time passes and he doesn't age, he watched his loved ones from a distance growing old and having children before ultimately passing away. It pains him that he lives like an animal hunting for blood in the forest unable to live a normal life.
But he still wishes to do, to be good . So as his powers build and the sun doesn't scorch his skin anymore. He joins the army century after century to regain some sense of humanity. (That's a horrible way to regain humanity if I'm honest, though in his defence he fell for the propaganda and thought he was doing a good thing.) But the bloodlust becomes so much worse the more he kills. The more blood stains his hands the more he longs for the chaos and violence.
He gathers companions along the way. Men like him that were on the brink of death but had so much to live for. He couldn't let them die he just couldn't! By the 21st century he had his little taskforce. His boys, his lovers, his family but someting was missing. What could it be? They lived comfortably with the wealth they had accumulated. They had their buffet layed out for them on the battlefield. What more could they want?
But something was out of place. Even with his lovers, life was becoming bleak when all they saw was violence and bloodshed. That was until they found a delicate little hostage in their capture or kill mission. Scared little thing you were tucked away in the corner of a bedroom, chained to the wall. You'd do nicely as their pet. They bet your blood tastes just as sweet as your tears.
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Their reply: Oh I love it! Johnny being a warrior that at the Battle of Culloden, fighting for Scottish independence from the British, happens to die while fighting an infuriating man. Said infuriating man, dying by the Scottsmans hand, just so happens to be lieutenant Simon. Price having already planned to watch over Simon (he said he wouldn't get attached) yet he can't help but to turn Johnny too. Neither are happy at first, they have their differences, but they can't deny the bond and love that forms. Then the three of them meet Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick in world war ii. So bright and full of life, passionate about fighting for his country and ending Nazi regime. The man runs right into a fight, saving dozens upon dozens of men, and the three know they can't let him remain dead when the inevitable comes. And Gaz, well, he keeps that light within him because at least now he can make sure that the war to end all wars wasn't done in vain.
I just wanted to show off their ideas too since it's what inspired my little snippet. I not sure if I'll turn this into a actual thing though.
Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2024. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.
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gogh-with-the-flow · 9 months
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Blood in the Wine masterlist!!!
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After moving to London all by yourself, you're struggling to make any meaningful connections. So, when a handsome stranger invites you out, you jump at the offer. However, you soon find yourself in way over your head when he reveals much more than what you expected: not just one, but four creatures of the night, thirsty for a taste of YOU. Will you make a valiant escape? Or will you allow yourself to fall into their hungry arms?
Blood in the Wine on AO3
Fic rating: M to E, 18+ only
Chapter One: Hibiscus Tea
Chapter Two: Reflections
Chapter Three: Nightcap
Chapter Four: Botanicals
Chapter Five: Tannins (E)
Chapter Six: Merlot (E)
Chapter Seven: Mead (NEW)
Banner by @bloodyknucklesforme
Other works:
141 Mechanic!AU
Part 1 (E)
Part 2 (E)
Cheating!Soap (Angst, hurt/no comfort)
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Our Girlfriend (Gaz x reader to poly!141 x reader, smut)
Another Kind of Pleasure (Ghaz sounding)
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ghostfacebunni · 4 months
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vampire!141 with human!reader
vampire!141 who refuses to let human!reader to do anything that would risk them getting hurt because they might get too overwhelmed by the blood
vampire!price having to spray vampire!soap and vampire!gaz with a spray bottle that may or may not have holy water in it when they get too overwhelmed by their thirst around human!reader
vampire!ghost who's basically got cat and tugs on human!reader (shirts, dress, etc) when he wants a little snack of blood
vampire!gaz who is much more gentle about biting unless he's really hungry
vampire!soap who has too much energy therefore bites too much
human!reader who just wanted to be apart of a team but ended up dealing with four vampires who would rather step into the sun than have them get upset mostly from their spur of the moment biting
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sleepyconfusedpotato · 6 months
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🚬🦇 Vampire!Price 🚬🦇
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Vampire!Price AU where he's 737 years old and has been through countless wars. One of the most powerful beings in existence who has the gift, or rather, a curse of eternal life. Now he's with the SAS, forming the Task Force 141, a team of soldiers with special abilities. In the modern day though, Price has sworn to only consume animal blood, because if he consumes human blood (even the enemies') his thirst will grow insatiable and he'll harm other people he grew to cherish, which explains his pale skin colour. He hasn't drunk any human blood since WWII. When he's at the height of his powers, he can control the blood flow of other beings with blood, and with that, their movements and even every pump of their heart. That is, until he met Gaz, who hadn't a single drop of blood inside his body. Spoiler : it's Mummy!Gaz 👀
What a fun experience ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Revisiting the Vampire!Price had been really enjoyable, plus the fact that I get to study more shading and colouring techniques (because I suck at colouring)!
That cup is definitely just a red tea.
Hope you love this art! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა
Lineart version 👇
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nocturnesmoon · 5 months
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-Archaic Blood Masterlist-
Thinking about TF141 and vampire reader, it's probably been done before but i can't get it out of my head. All the potential it has both fluff, angst and plot. Because listen listen listen
What if
You are a vampire contracted by the military, except the vampire part is a very well-kept secret. You're old, your life spans all the way back to when they burned witches at the stake. You were an ordinary person back then, careful and with your own beliefs and superstitions like anyone. The rumors and sightings of witches, vampires, and werewolves was things you didn't concern yourself with. At least until you sighted it yourself, and you got pulled in.
Taking slight dnd logic, at least in the sense that the vampire that turned you ended up in control over you. You were trapped there along with quite a few other vampire spawn, all subjected to the same type of abuse and torture over decades. You got used to it, the drive to get away was beaten out of you as you blindly obeyed your master.
You had lost hope of rescue or even just the sweet relief of actual death, until the castle got raided by military. You fought against them by command of the vampire lord, but in a moment of clarity you ripped yourself free from the clawing grip it had on your mind. You pushed against your master, and killed them in their already injured state, granting you the freedom you had wanted for so long.
You still had your immortal strife, but now a free vampire spawn, you finally had a sense of will again, you had hope again. You didn't know why the military decided to spare you, they had butchered your brothers and sisters along with your creator, but someone took interest in you.
And free from one prison you went right into another.
It quickly became clear to you that their goal was to make you something short of a super soldier. Your vampirism gave you a heightened set of abilities, and with a few drawbacks they could utilize you well during missions. Despite your attempts of escape, your newly granted freedom was put on a new leash. You were given a handler, someone to train you into obedience as if you hadn't spent decades being under the control of a single person.
It didn't matter how much you protested; they were insistent that you owed them for "saving" you. So reluctantly you leaned into it, you found that you actually had a lot of fun on these types of missions they would send you on. You did various things; a lot of your time was spent on hunting other monsters like yourself. Both werewolves, vampires, witches, and other mythical creatures since you were much better at sniffing them out.
You proved yourself time and time again, and eventually you became rather trusted. Eventually you would outgrow your handler, unlike them you weren't burdened with aging mortality. So, every few decades, an accident or event would stage your death, and you'd come back under a new name and skillset.
Every single persona you carried got known around the military for different things, though they all had the monster hunting specialty in common. The only people knowing the truth being yourself and a select amount of your higher ups that handled you.
Now you've found yourself settled in your life in the military, it isn't what you expected but you deal with it easily enough. Until the call comes that you're going to be working with a certain Taskforce 141, and the group you meet change everything.
You're paired up with them for an indefinite amount of time, the goal being hunting a cult of monsters that's been stirring up things and risking the public eye figuring out about the existence of monsters. Laswell contacted your handlers for your assistance and thereby sort of became your new temporary handler. In the start she was the only one that knew of your vampirism, and you tried to keep it that way, but it was hard when the others were quite observant of their new addition to the team.
You get along just fine with them, there's a distance between you all at first. A professional distance that doesn't allow you to get to know them all too well. It's a distance you try to keep up, try to maintain but quickly crumbles when you find you enjoy their company a lot more than normal.
Soap always finds a reason to talk to you, either inquiring you about what you're doing or info dumping about his latest find. You allow him to stay, listening to his ramblings with a gentle smile on your face, as you continue typing up your report.
Gaz likes to engage you in different activities, be it card games, video games, training together. It's often paired with Soap and creates quite the chaotic environment, but one that never fails to make you laugh like you've never done before. You even start to suspect that the two of them are teaming up on getting you to open up to them.
Price has his way with complimenting you, he observes your work and your determination with great interest. He notices how much hard work you put into the missions and even outside of missions. He appreciates having someone who's so dedicated, but he also knows you can't possibly be resting enough and finds himself pulling you away from your work to have rest together, however that might be.
Ghost isn't as quick to accept you as the others, he respects you from a work standpoint but other than that there's something about you that doesn't sit right with him. He chalks it up to you just being an unpredictability, an uneven equation to the stability he's used to with the other 141 members. He genuinely tries to get closer with you when he sees how much the rest enjoy your company, but that uneasy feeling is still something he can't shake.
Ghost is probably the first to start suspecting things, maybe even fully figure it out. Everyone probably starts to notice things every now and then, they're smart men, they're hunting a cult of monsters that includes vampires, they know of some of the behaviors.
It also gets harder and harder for you to mask your instincts, the more comfortable you get with them the more you forget to be careful. You start feeling too safe with them, forgetting the fact of who you are. They start noticing how you don't really eat, at least never with them. Every time they invite you to join them, you find some convenient excuse.
Another thing they start to notice is your adverse nature to light. Your room always have the blinds closed and lights off. You gravitate towards the shadows, you feel more welcome in them, and Ghost swears that one time he saw your eyes glow red in the darkness.
Every time you're out in the sunlight, you wear extensive gear or covering clothes. Full balaclava, sunglasses, gloves, almost none of your skin is ever shown to the rays of the sun. The one time Soap asked you about it, you gave the excuse that your skin is just very sensitive to the sun, that you get sunburns easily because of sensitive skin and just prefer the shade.
Your heightened sensitivity is something Price and Ghost notices quick. Your sharp movements, your overly quick thinking, your stamina, and strength don't line up with the humanely possible. Not to mention the way you stare at blood a little too intensely when you come across it.
Whenever Price asks Laswell about you, every bit of information he gets out of her is vague and doesn't always add up. Even when he gets his hands on your file, and goes over it with the team, despite how impressive your record is, there are things on it that doesn't make sense with how long you've supposedly been alive.
The breakpoint happens when Gaz finds your stash of blood packs. He didn't even mean to be nosy in your room, but he was looking for something of his that you had borrowed, and stumbled upon them. His eyes wide as he looks back at you, the things he's been thinking, and the small whispers he's shared with the rest about you, now all confirmed to be true.
You try to talk him down, but you know by the way he looks at you that you're starting to form as a threat in his mind. He tries to get away, maybe to get backup or find something specific to defend himself with, but you manage to tackle him down. Not exactly helping his griping fear. Only then do you manage to talk him down, assure him that you aren't a threat and that you won't hurt anyone.
He leaves it reluctantly, mumbling agreeance, but you're aware that he's not going to keep it secret. It's just about who moves faster now. You like the relationship you've built with the 141, you're even starting to get through to Ghost, and it wasn't something you were keen on losing. So, Laswell calls a meeting, it was time to let them know.
Everyone gathers, confused at the sudden emergency meeting, except for Gaz who is staring you down, his leg bouncing furiously against the ground. You do your best to not look threatening, to prepare yourself for possible worse reactions.
"They're a vampire spawn," Laswell tells them, ”And they've been helping the military control the remaining monsters in the world for a very long time now." she states as if it's most normal thing in the world to have a free vampire spawn on your team you're supposed to trust. Though their response surprise you.
"We know"
At first you think you weren't quick enough, that Gaz got to them before you did. But you quickly find out most of them have been suspicious for months, and eventually came to terms with it. Gaz's outburst just stemmed from shock and impulse thinking. They all have quite a few questions, ranging from trivial to stupid and some just plain curiosity.
You're most surprised to find that they don't want to view you any different than they already have, that they enjoy your company just as much as you've enjoyed theirs. They still want to work with you, they still want to be around you. It makes your unbeating heart flutter, and your nonexistent blood rush in excitement of the future possibilities.
They've accepted you into their own little pack, you don't know it yet, but they've already claimed you as theirs. If they could have it their way, and they will, you won't be working for any other taskforce again in a very long time, and you think that this might just be the most interesting decade yet, in your long, long life.
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I really wanna write more about this, vampire tropes always have me frothing at the mouth-
Sorry for the word vomit but i had to get this out my head, i can't be the only thinking about this, the potential-
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blingblong55 · 7 months
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Blood and Lust- 141 NSFW
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A/N: huge thank you to @warenai @shadofireshinobi and the anon for the picture/gif
Based on a request: --- 141 in a vampire orgy. All vampires are said to be bi so do what u will with that infol also F reader so #27, #23, #4, #15. not sure if i can have so many numbers on a request but please do feed me --- F!Reader, smut, MDNI, 18+, monster/vampire au, orgy, mentions of blood(obvi), knife play, pain kink, marking, biting, rough!sex, unprotected!sex, human!reader, voyeurism, mentions of drug use, degrading, spit roast, M4M, MM4F
A/N: Straight to it...(won't mention much about your own pleasure bc I simply forgot to put that much detail into it and I also forgot to write the aftercare but let's pretend it did happen)
It was an annual thing they did, get drunk on blood, have sex, and get high on drugs. You and Soap had been friends for years and every year, you were the chosen one to be fed on. He of course had your consent to drink your blood, as the rest of his housemates did. Today, you are in the large bed of their home. Sex toys of all sorts around the room, three of the men already in bed. Soap had started things off with you in the bathroom, trying to ease the nerves. Some good amount of cocaine always did the job.
Now in their bed, Price and Soap initiated things. You in your pink lingerie, like the perfect little prey. Soap's lips on yours, Price was spreading your legs open. Gaz was already stroking his cock, Ghost watching as you let Soap kiss your neck, a smirk on his face the entire time. With one quick notion, you were under Soap. His fangs are deep in your neck. Price began to drip from the other side of the neck. You moan as Gaz begins to slap his already-hardened cock onto your cunt. "Already wet?" he chuckles and nods off to Ghost. Your blood dripped down your neck, and Price was leaking it, leaving bite marks all over your neck and shoulder.
Once the two men stopped drinking from you, Ghost bends down, a knife on his hand whilst the other stroked his own cock. He forces your mouth open, his tip being slapped on your tongue. A knife gently tracing your chest. You squirm. "Shh, it's okay," he whispers and then makes you suck on his cock, his hips thrusting as you begin to gag. Soap watches this with delight, he moves closer and kisses Ghost. Price begins to finger you, his fingers deep inside as you try and move but get slapped either on your tits or thighs. "Don't you fucking move," he growls and then looks at Gaz. "Do it," Gaz says and then both of the men position your thighs far from the other. Gaz kisses your legs as Price positions his needy cock by your entrance, his tip circling your pulsating entrance. Your blood still leaking. The bite marks Price has left, will become definite scars.
Ghost strokes Soap's length and before he ever dared to cum, he stops and then slaps your face. The way your throat tightened around his cock, making him feel that much-needed release get closer. Gaz spreads some white powder down on your stomach, sniffing it up his nose and shaking his head with a grin. Soap moves down and sniff the powder as well, both men then look at the other and begin to touch each other. Your clit was rubbed by Gaz's fingers all as Soap kissed his neck.
Ghost continued to spread the knife over your chest, leaving small trails of your blood. He licks the cuts and smiles, "What a lovely dinner." You continue to gag, Ghost occasionally pulling out so you could breathe, then slamming his cock back inside your mouth. Your lips, like a perfect ring around his thick member. Price fucked himself into your pussy, which only made you moan more. Your blood was addictive to all these men. Out of all the men, Ghost and Price abused your body the most. They slapped and marked you all over, leaving marks for other vampires or just other men to see. At one point they all agreed to mark you as their complete property. A skull with fangs on your lower back now as proof of their ownership.
As Soap and Gaz drank blood from their glasses, they continued to either touch themselves as they watched you get completely destroyed by the thick cocks of their friends or touch each other. By some point, you began to get whipped, your body covered in bruises, red hand prints, cuts or bite marks. Once Ghost came in your mouth he pulled out and bit your neck, the artery leaking your blood, Gaz took this opportunity and drank from you as well. The room was filled with whimpers, begs, cries, moans and groans. Your eyes leaked tears, one's which was licked by Soap as he then trailed down to your tits. He nibbled on them like he had no other purpose.
Price's cum leaked from your cunt, he slapped it and then joined Soap, both men completely abusing your tits like there was no tomorrow. Once Ghost and Gaz were drunk on your blood, they made you get on all fours. Gaz behind whilst Soap took your throat. Ghost and Price say done, smoking and stroking themselves as they watched you take their mates. Soap choked you with his hands, making you gag and get teary pretty fast. Gaz slapped your ass, leaving his handprint on your already raw skin. You were forced by Soap to not look away from him, always to keep your eyes on him. "Look at you, what a dumb whore you are," Soap spit out which made Gaz grin. Your blood now leaking down to your chest.
Your eyes rolled back as they made you near your third orgasm. You wanted to tap out, your legs already shaking you, you were a blabbering mess but your body begged to be fucked to the extreme. "Just look at how easy we can make you cum," Gaz comments and slaps your ass again. You whimper only to have Soap slap your face and thrust himself into your mouth like an animal in heat. His thrusts so hard it would make your throat sore by the next day. Price has Ghost suck him off as he watched you get wrecked. This is what turned him on the most. No other human can make these men act this way like you and your body can. As more of Price's cum squirted hot into Ghost's mouth, he watched his two other mates cum at the same time inside of you.
Ghost sat up, watching as Gaz pressed the knife against your skin, ripping the layers of it and letting blood flow. He had a sadistic smile, he loved how you would whimper and beg for more. Knew you loved to be hurt by the blade. Your face was flushed, all your body was trying to calm itself down from the already multiple orgasms you received from either getting fingered or getting your holes used. Your legs shake and Soap lays you on your back.
"Not much a brat now are you?" he smirks as he recalls how bratty you were days before this orgy. He once more digs his fangs into your neck, and he sucks the blood, feeding himself for the next day or two. "Fuck you taste so sweet," he whispers and smiles. His thumb wipes the mascara-stained tears from your face and he kisses your forehead.
A/N: I know the homophobes will hate me for making them bi but fuck off we all needed this
Tags: @liyanahelena @anonymuslydumb @sharkssharkssharkssharks @yoursuicidalcupcake @ghostslillady @sleepydang @saoirse06 @hellnoname @karurururu @ghost-2513 @cheenutchutter4lyfe @airghostlyfox @greatstormcat @kuddelmuddell @unknownghoststhings @undercover-smutlover @luv69nina @welliah
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nouns-are-bad · 10 months
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Vampire gaz being scared of feeding in front of the 141 because he’s had a hard time feeding in front of other teammates so it’s obviously the same here right?
Wrong, soap brings him a dead deer for him to feed off of with soap, ghost kills someone and while their bodies still hot asks if gaz want to get a quick meal in, price discretely handing him blood in a concealed flask for long missions because “we need you at the top of your game soldier”
The 141 including gaz in their meal practices because they don’t find it weird and want him to eat with them
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diejager · 6 months
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Sparrow masterlist
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Pairing: Task Force 141 x fem!vampire!reader
Cw: blood drinking, blood, canon-typical violence, vampire, death, age gap(reader’s over a century old), more to be added.
Parts:
Sparrow | f
Drabbles:
Bar Nights | r,f
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ghcstao3 · 5 months
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AHAHAHND NDHHVEJDJ—
Vampire!Soap x Human!Ghost where Soap goes a little too far?? Like Gaz or Price has to pull him off of Ghost or hell kill him
new obsession unlocked
(part 1)
Soap knows control with a great familiarity, a sort of intimacy. Has to, if he so wishes to remain a part of the task force.
And Price trusts him to maintain that control. He wouldn’t have taken the young sergeant under his wing if he hadn’t. He wouldn’t have fought tooth and nail to keep him around if he didn’t think Soap could contain himself at the whim of a command.
But all that being said—he also always still feared a moment like this happening.
Three months. Soap had been gone for three months. He’d been restrained, sedated, and taken when a mission had gone tits-up, and now he’s been missing for three months.
Price knows Soap is a capable soldier. Knows he’d be able to hold his own for just as long, so long as the captors didn’t have other plans.
But he also knows that time is precious, and when they finally have a hit, he can’t help but feel relieved.
Even with Soap missing from the group, they work together like a well-oiled machine, sweeping and clearing the warehouse in which they’d been led to believe Soap was being held captive. Ghost and Gaz separate from Price to expand the search once hostile numbers have dwindled, and they all begin to feel the dread of the past few months finally dissipating.
Ghost is the one to discover Soap, of course. Price can feel the tension in his shoulders melt, if only a little, when Ghost relays that Soap is still alive.
That’s when everything goes wrong.
Because it’s just after being told that Soap is alive that Ghost informs Price and Gaz that it seemed like Soap hadn’t been fed for the duration of his captivity. And before the cut off of Ghost’s mic as he approaches the sergeant, there’s a grunt and a snarl and the sound of a scuffle—and Price has never been so fast to try and locate his men.
It’s clear Gaz has the same idea—they both arrive to find Ghost struggling to push Soap off of him, the hem of his mask shoved upward by the sergeant where fangs are latched on and taking greedily.
“Sergeant!” Price shouts. “John!”
Soap only pauses a moment, glancing up with an intensely deranged, feral look in his eyes before he resumes feeding hungrily on Ghost, whose fight has been gradually lessening with the loss of blood.
Price turns to Gaz, who nods. A silent communication, and a silent hope that the situation wouldn’t escalate to its worst possible outcome.
They move to restrain Soap—or at the very least, detach him from Ghost again. But with the renewal of strength with having drunk blood for the first time in months, it’s a proper struggle for Price and Gaz.
“Tav!” Gaz says through gritted teeth. “Let go, mate!”
“You’re killing him, sergeant!” Price growls.
Ghost has long since gone limp. Price’s heart races, not wanting to have to fall back on their last resort—but thankfully, with one last harsh tug, Soap is removed from the lieutenant.
Price and Gaz drag him across the room, the hissing and snarling mess that he’s become. With a spare blood bag produced from Gaz’s pack, however, Soap becomes complacent enough for Price to leave the vampire in Gaz’s hold to go staunch the wound in Ghost’s throat.
The worst case scenario would’ve been having to kill Soap, sure.
But Price is just as afraid of the possible fallout once Ghost and Soap both return to their respective senses.
(part 3)
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gogh-with-the-flow · 7 months
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Blood in the Wine-7
Chapter Seven: Mead
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A/N: Thank you all for your love, patience, and encouragement. Life has its ups and downs, but one thing remains certain- I fucking love vampires
Word count: 4k
Warnings: Mean Soap! No smut in this chapter, just general spookiness and some suggestive language.
Song: Strangelove by Depeche Mode
MASTERLIST, CH1, CH2, CH3, CH4, CH5, CH6
---
Two pairs of eyes were fixated on you through the crack in the door. Gaz’s lips parted, as if he were about to say something, but Price waved his hand and the door slammed shut just inches from your face. You stood panting in the doorway. You couldn’t hear them say anything through the door anymore. 
Did you really just see what you saw? If the wetness in your underwear was anything to judge by, then the answer was yes. Your pulse was racing in your ears like a river. It was so loud, in fact, that you couldn’t even hear Soap walk up behind you until his hand was wrapped around your upper arm and he yanked you backwards away from the door. You stumbled backwards, barely managing to keep your feet under you. You shouted in surprise, finally snapping out of your stupor. 
“You’re fucking shameless, aren’t you? Just can’t fucking get enough?” he shoved you away from him roughly, and you had to catch yourself on the wood paneling walls. His voice was growling and vicious. You looked up at him and your breath caught in your throat. 
Dark, jagged gashes cut through his face; a particularly deep-looking one ran down over his left eye. The scabs were black, and they pulled at the soft skin of his cheeks as he spoke. 
“I didn’t- I didn’t mean to-”
“What? You didn’t mean to do what? Didn’t mean to sneak a peek at Price’s cock down Gaz’s throat?”
“No!” You took a step back as he took one toward you. 
“Or you didn’t mean to let Ghost tear up my face like this?”
“No!” He kept advancing on you down the hall. Your back hit the wall. 
"Then what? Huh? Look at me!" He said standing over you. "Look what you did to my face."
"I didn't do anything!" You pleaded. You could feel your throat closing up around the lump you tried to come down, and your vision blurred with salty tears. 
"You did! All because you couldn't follow the damn rules. You should be grateful I threw myself in his way." His voice was lower now, colder. "Because if I hadn't, if Ghost had gotten his hands on you," he shrugged, "we'd be out looking for a new familiar." 
You blinked up at him, hot tears dropping from your cheeks onto your collar, and his eyes followed the movement. 
"Could take a bite out of you right now, couldn't I? Then I'd be right as rain again. Heal up nice and quick…" He leaned closer. Your breath hitched as you felt the heat of his blow over your pulse point. 
“You’ve already had your turn with her, Soap,” said an admonishing voice just a meter away. Price stepped closer with an unspoken air of authority, and Soap stepped back in submission, throwing you one last resentful glare. “You’re dismissed, Soap,” he said with a touch more force. If looks could kill, you’d have been dead where you stood, and Soap would have been the culprit. His icy eyes chilled you to the core, but he finally turned his back to you and swiftly disappeared around the corner again. 
You sniffled quietly to yourself. You hadn’t meant for it to happen. Not the incident of the past night, not Soap’s injuries, and certainly, you never meant to catch a peek of Gaz and Price’s… intimate moment. You never mean to be a less-than-willing ward of this manor, but that was old news by now. There was nothing more you could do. You’d agreed to the pact, and somewhere inside you, you felt that your actions with Gaz last night only cemented your place here. Your role to play had been decided.
A touch to your face shocked you out of your head and you flinched. 
“Easy, love,” Price cooed to you, standing so close now. His thumb brushed your cheek, interrupting the wet path your tears had made. “Goddamn MacTavish keeps making you cry. I’ll have to have a proper conversation with him, eh?” He held your face so gently that it was hard to believe the man was capable of such cruelty you had witnessed the night before. His tenderness almost made you forget his utter hypocrisy.
You leaned away but his strong hands followed you, keeping you close to him. He studied your face. He always seemed to be looking at you with a strange curiosity. His eyes followed the freshest tear down your face with the sharpness of a cat watching a mouse. You did your best to compose yourself, but being in such close proximity made catching your breath quite difficult. Price wasn’t the same soft comfort that Gaz was. Instead, he was a sturdy wall, and you found yourself leaning into the stability of him all on your own.
He pulled you closer to himself and kissed the tear away. His lips were soft between the bushiness of his mustache and beard, which tickled and poked you ever so slightly. He licked his lips as he stood back with a satisfied smile.
“Now, no more tears, darling,” he said as you stared up in shock. “Come, follow me. I’ve got something to show you.” He didn’t wait for you to follow; instead he took your wrist in your hand and pulled you along, leaving you no choice but to follow. His grip was one of iron, yet wasn’t hard enough to bruise. Soft, but unyielding. He led you down the main staircase. The cobwebs were still hanging heavy on the grand chandelier as you passed underneath. 
“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, following him through the quiet halls, falling into step with him. 
“What for?” he asked. You were too ashamed to look him in the eye, but you could’ve sworn you heard that damn smirk in his voice. He was going to make you admit it, wasn’t he? You wouldn’t- you wouldn’t! But as you lied to yourself, you could feel your composure crumbling. There was something about Price that made you want to obey… to submit. 
“For… eavesdropping,” you relented, bowing your head lower. 
“Eavesdropping? Is that what they’re calling it these days?” he joked. You knew you were caught, and so did he. “And did you enjoy the conversation?” he teased. He squeezed your hand. When had your hand slipped so easily into his? “You should know now to knock before entering a room. There are things far more sinister than that to be found in this manor.”
“Maybe you should lock your doors, then,” you bit back, but there was hardly any venom in your words. You could feel your face positively burning at the way Price tiptoed around the fact that you saw him cum down Gaz’s throat, that he did so while staring you down. 
“Maybe I wasn’t trying to hide anything,” he said as the two of you stopped outside the double doors of the library. “Maybe I wanted you to see.” Your eyes stayed fixated on the old oak doors. You felt heat prickling at your brow and his beard sweeping over your ear. He pushed the doors open. The hinges creaked from years, maybe decades of unuse. 
You coughed as a surge of dust filled your lungs, but when it cleared, you stepped into a beautiful and spacious room, walls all lined with rows and rows of books, many of them looking utterly ancient. A rolling ladder was pushed into the farthest corner, and floor-to-ceiling windows lit up the entirety of the room with glowing golden sunbeams, making the speckles of dust more resemble fairy dust. You stepped into the room and trailed your hand along the carved wood of the back of an old velvet armchair. It was probably a vibrant purple once. Small round end tables were scattered about next to the various sitting areas, most covered with linens, but you were drawn to the reading nook at the foot of the wall of windows. The earthy, grounding smell of aged paper saturated your senses. A thin layer of dust covered every surface, and you imagined what the room must have looked like at its pinnacle. 
Price watched you with a sincere smile as you explored the open space of the library. He enjoyed the wonder and elation in your eyes. As you scanned the shelves, fingers tracing old spine after old spine, he picked three small, unassuming books from a shelf and waited patiently for your attention to return to him.
Once you made a thorough round of the library, you wandered back to Price. 
“This is incredible,” you said with a wistful smile. “When you said you had a library, I wasn’t expecting this. Some of these books look like they’re centuries old!”
“They are,” he says proudly. “I curated this collection myself throughout my first life, and continue to do so in this one. Whenever I’m able to, that is.” He lifted the books in his hands and nodded to them. “But this is what I really wanted to show you.” You looked down and read the old, simple cover, the canvas yellowed and the ink faded, but the title was clear as day. 
“Frankenstein.”
“Gaz mentioned you liked the classics.” He let you take the three volumes from his hands. You held the delicate books with reverence. You were worried they would fall apart if you breathed too hard, so you held your breath in your chest.  
“These are… how old are they?” you whispered. 
“First editions.” Your eyes snapped up to his in bewilderment. “Got them at a little bookshop one snowy January afternoon. It was a fascinating read, so I kept them, found a spot in here for them. Bloody good thing I did, eh?”
You were too stunned to speak, completely transfixed by the aged canvas and the soft, yellow pages. Price circled around you as you started to wonder if you should be handling these with gloves. You barely noticed the heavy presence of his chest so close to your back. 
"Big brute that everyone's afraid of… but he's really just scared himself. Can't control his own strength," he said, placing his hands on your hips. "Reminds me of someone I know," he muttered, and your body tensed at the feeling of his breath on your neck. You gasped at the feeling of his coarse hair teasing your skin, and subconsciously tilted your head to allow him room. You felt his chest swell with a deep breath, strong, firm pectorals pressing against your shoulder blades as he inhaled your scent. You closed your eyes to prepare for the inevitable bite you were sure was to come, although you didn’t know how much you could physically offer him after the events of the previous night. But the bite never came. 
“I had a very interesting conversation with Kyle this morning. He pleaded your case,” Price spoke into your neck, prickly lips tickling you with each word. “Said you were all worn out from last night, all shaken up from your little excursion outside… among other things.” You felt your face heat up as he once again alluded to your time with Gaz. “He asked me to give you the day to recover,” his palm moved up your back and brushed over the still-sensitive scratches through the fabric, “to let your back heal all the way before we start opening up new wounds.” He pressed his lips and face further into your neck and inhaled deeply, smelling the blood that pumped rhythmically just beneath the surface. 
“He was very persuasive. He’s quite good with his mouth, wouldn’t you agree?” he teased, and you could hear the soft laugh resting in the chamber of his chest. You shuddered at the memory of Gaz’s tongue licking through you, his eyes looking up at you from between your legs, his soft, plush lips kissing and sucking your clit. Price hummed at the way your breath hitched just from the memories he dug up with his own suggestion. With a final deep breath of your scent, he stated, “Take the day. I’m a patient man. I’ve been around a long time, dear. I can wait one more day to taste you again.” He pressed a final kiss to your tender skin, and you had to hold your breath to stop the quiet whimper that lodged itself in your throat. 
He stepped back, although reluctantly, and you listened to his footsteps distance himself from you, stopping at the door. 
“Enjoy the books,” he said, and then left you alone in the library, locking the door behind him. Your heart was racing, and your underwear was notably wetter than it was before. 
It took you a good while of deep breathing while standing in the same place that Price left you in order to completely calm yourself down. Once your heart was beating at an acceptable pace, you settled yourself onto the reading nook at the windows after wiping the dust from the aged leather seats. You tried your best to forget the sensation of Price’s lips at your neck, the tenderness of his kiss and the roughness of his facial hair. You brought your knees close to your chest and focused instead, on the first volume, and on not opening it too wide, lest you crack the spine. Before long, you had lost yourself in the world that the yellowed pages laid out for you. 
“Common misconception,” a familiar voice called out to you, making you jump. “But Frankenstein is actually the doctor, not the monster,” Gaz finished with a sheepish smile. 
“You seem to be making a habit of interrupting my reading with useless trivia,” you said, closing the book slowly and setting it on the windowsill beside you. You glanced outside and noticed the sun was higher in the sky. You’d been reading for hours. 
“Sorry, just figured you might be hungry. Made you lunch.” He sat beside you and placed a tray in your lap: coffee made the way you like, and a salad with grilled chicken. 
“Thank you.” You gave him a soft smile. 
“I used to like to cook,” he began, his gaze distant, “back before, well, you know. It’s nice to be able to do it again, even if I can't eat it.” He shrugged his shoulders, and the two of you sat quietly together for a moment. You sipped your coffee. 
“Thank you, again. For talking with Price. And I'm sorry for…” Gaz cut you off with a laugh. 
“It’s alright, don’t mention it.” he fixed his eyes on yours, more playful than embarrassed. “Seriously, don’t mention it.” Both of you laughed, the tension relieved. He placed a hand on your knee. “How are you feeling? Not too sore, I hope. Your back- I mean! The, er, scratches on your back.”
“They’re a little tender,” you answered, breaking eye contact with a small chuckle. “I should be all better by tomorrow, thanks to you and your magic tongue.” you nudge him with your foot and he elbows you back. 
“Yeah, you like my tongue, don’t you?”
“Yeah, so does Price, apparently,” you say, matching his smirk. He winces and rolls his eyes, letting his head fall back against the window. “So, what? You’re all together in some kind of… quadrouple?” you asked. He shrugs again. 
“I guess so. All we really have is each other. Or at least,” he rolled his head to the side to look at you, “until you came along.”
“Yeah, well… I didn’t have a whole lot of say in that,” you murmured, and his smile faltered. He sat up, then, looking down at his shoes. He patted your knee and then stood up. 
“Eat your food.”
“Gaz…” 
“I’ll be back in a few hours with dinner. I’ll give you your space.” You called after him again, but he was already out the door, locking it again behind himself. 
By the time he had returned, you had finished your lunch and the first volume of Frankenstein. You’d placed the book back onto its empty space on the bookshelf. The sun was hanging just over the trees, and the sky had taken on an orangy tint at the edges. Gaz had dropped off a single-serve premade lasagna with only a few words exchanged as he collected your dirty dishes, giving you a tight smile and a squeeze on your shoulder, and locked you in again. 
The third time he visited the library, the sun was behind the trees, casting long shadows across the expansive lawn. You found it more difficult to focus on reading. The darker it got, the deeper the feeling of being watched ate at you. You weren’t sure if your eyes were playing tricks on you, but you thought you caught movement in the woods; large, dark masses shifting and pacing, weaving through the thick trunks of old trees. You didn’t make it very far through the second volume. 
The click of the lock caught your attention. Gaz entered with a stiff back and squared shoulders. You stood to meet him, and he drew the thick curtains over the wide windows. You left the remaining two books on the cushions. The two of you stood together in the dark library, and he stayed at arm’s length. You wanted him closer. When Gaz turned to you, his eyes glinted red and green in the low light. Your breath caught in your throat. 
“You ready to go upstairs?” he asked. You nodded your head and let him guide you back out into the house. “Stay close,” he said with a hand on your back. The lights were on all through the house, but the warm yellow light seemed not to reach the corners. The cobwebs muted the glowing bulbs, making every shadow stretch out to you, like claws on an outstretched hand. The two of you walked briskly through the main hall, and when you hurried past the conservatory, you saw something large lingering outside the window, but the reflections of the lamps inside obstructed the view. 
“Keep moving, Gaz told you. “They can’t hurt you if you’re inside.”
“What are they?” you asked in an anxious whisper. 
“Just keep going,” he repeated, his face pinched into almost a sneer as his red eyes glanced out the windows, once again glinting in the light like a cat on the prowl. He ushered you up the back stairs, and once you were safely inside your bedroom, he bolted the door. 
“What are those things?” you asked once again. Then, your head whipped to the barred window as a howl pierced the quiet of the dusk. Your blood ran cold and your breath stuttered. It wasn’t like the hoots and screams of coyotes back home. It wasn’t even a familiar call of a lonely dog. There was something deeper, something dark and primal in that sound. It spoke to a fear deep within you, something ancestral that made your skin sting with pinpricks. 
“Get ready for bed,” Gaz said sternly. His eyes, too, were fixated on the growing darkness seeping through the window. 
“Gaz,” you pleaded, needing answers. 
“They’re just trying to scare you, they can’t hurt you in here.” When you made no move, he looked at you with a softer face. “You’re safe, I promise.” He nudged you closer to the bathroom. “I’ll watch the door,” he offers with a reassuring smile. You let him push you into the other room, your bare feet padding on the tile, but you left the door cracked slightly. You needed to hear him there, to know he was still there with you. 
The water from the shower was loud enough to drown out the howling outside, and it gave you the smallest drop of peace of mind. You played Gaz’s words back in your head. They couldn’t hurt you in here. You took your time, and Gaz waited patiently for you to emerge wrapped in a fluffy towel. He smiled to himself and turned around to give you your privacy to dress yourself. 
You settled yourself into bed and waited for him to join you, but he reached for the door instead. 
“Where are you going?” you asked, sitting back up. He turned back around to face you, looking confused and concerned. 
“I just thought… you’d want to be alone.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Well… what you said earlier. About not having a choice? I just thought that, maybe, you’d just want to be alone.” He looked down at his feet. It was quiet between you two, the kind of quiet that only came after midnight. The kind of quiet when the whole earth stood still and even the crickets slept. 
“It’s true,” you started, and Gaz’s arms tensed. “I didn’t have a choice. You didn’t give me one.” His hands curled into themselves, balling into fists; not in anger toward you, but toward himself, toward the hunger he’d let turn him into more monster than man. “But I’m choosing you, now. Gaz-” another howl interrupted the silence in your room and both of you glanced at the window. You reminded yourself that it was barred with iron, and for the first time you were thankful for it.
 “Stay with me,” you whispered to him across the room with a quiver in your breathy voice. “Please.”
Gaz didn’t need to hear another word from you. He crossed the room to your bed in three long strides. In that moment, he knew that he’d do just about anything for you if you only asked him. In seconds, he had his arms around you, wrapping you in the duvet. 
“Yeah,” he said soothingly. “Yeah, I’ll stay.” He was paradoxically warm. A cadaver heated not by his own blood, but by yours. A scarlet silk thread tying you two together. “I’ll stay.” He reached to turn out your bedside lamp and covered you two in a blanket of darkness. The howling continued, but Gaz was there. They couldn’t hurt you in here. 
As time passed, you watched the shadows of moonlight glide over your walls from where your head laid on Gaz’s chest, and eventually, the clouds covered the beaming white moon, and the howling stopped. You focused on Gaz’s breathing. You didn’t know if he could sleep. You thought he was still awake, though. You sure couldn’t sleep. A question on your mind nagged at you, nudging you awake whenever the waves of sleep got close enough to wash over you. 
"Gaz?" You asked into the darkness, your voice the only sound in the nighttime. "Were you ever really my friend?" Your head rose on his chest as he took a breath. "Or was it all just a ruse to get me here?”
Gaz didn’t answer right away, and for a moment you started to wonder if creatures of the night really did sleep like you did, and if your words fell on deaf ears after all. But then he spoke, his voice low and uncertain of himself. 
"Talking to you late at night on the phone was the first time I felt a connection since I became… what I am. The way you laughed, the way you told your stories to me, like I was actually there with you. I wanted to be beside you, I wanted to spend time with you. I think maybe it was the phone calls, because for the first time, I was talking to a human without hunger, without thirst. Just listening and being listened to. The days that we talked, just talked… I almost remembered how it felt to be alive again.” Gaz’s hand held yours over his stomach, his thumb tracing over your knuckles tenderly. 
“I don't know if I'm capable of love,” he said, his voice heavier than you’d heard it before. “After being dead so long, the heart atrophies… in a way that’s more than just physical.” He sighed, and it sounded like he had a weight much heavier than your head on his chest. “I'm sorry I can't spare you from what I am, what we all are. I’m sorry that we’ve taken so much from you already, and we’ll just keep taking. I'm sorry that I’m not what you thought I was." You absorbed his words. His answers finally gave you some closure, though it wasn’t exactly what you wanted. His voice allowed the waves of sleep to draw you in deeper. 
"The house seems brighter since you've been here,” he told you, his voice carrying you like a raft in the sea. “The floors creak when you walk. I didn't realize how much I'd missed that sound." 
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pingurusama · 6 months
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Lord Vampire Price for halloween(ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.゚
Made this in RUSH but still happy halloween for everyone! Captain Price suits the most in Vampire attire so tee hee, well actually anything for you king(づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡ Hopes my fellow Captain Price enjoyer feed well with my new art i drop :3
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sleepyconfusedpotato · 6 months
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Makarov in "The Lobby"
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Just a sketch before I sleep! Took this opportunity to study Julian Kostov's face and I think I'm getting the hang of it 👌
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Am I highkey seeing Makarov as another Vampire in Halloween AU? 👀 Imagine Makarov being a much stronger vampire than Price because he's been consuming human blood non-stop without remorse. And now in order to defeat Mak, Price has to break his oath and start consuming human blood again 👁️👁️.
Here's some timelapse and hope you love it! *(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭*ଘ
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eldritcmor · 2 days
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DRABBLE
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You came back wrong.
It took a while for the team to get back into Las Almas Base. Even then it was a challenge for the Monsters and Hybrids of 141 and Mexican special forces. Gaping maws in the earth filled with drip stone like teeth would suddenly open up beneath their feet. The trees would violently sway in the thunder shrieking winds as fat Heavy rain clouds let loose on the torn soil. All the while they couldn’t get the image of your corpse leaning in the doorway of your cell turned tomb, smiling over Graves’ shoulder as the earth gave way to teeth and blood at your cry.
The vampire had barely had enough to time to turn before concrete slicked into mud. He went tumbling with his thralls into a gaping chasm lined with obsidian fangs. Pain wracked his body as Those under his control were dashed against glass stone. He tried to pull his thralls to him. To call to The piece of his essence in each and every single one. No one came. He growled and tried again. No one. He looked up to the top of the pit only to see your dead eye’s mere inches from his, head cocked to the side as if listening.
A slow creeping smile stretched your pale blue lips, revealing rows of obsidian teeth. Graves barely had the energy to scramble back. He ignored the sting of glass piercing his palms as He pushed himself, further and further from whatever the fuck you were. A wail cried high in the pit and Graves flinched as Your head snapped to the noise. He would never forget the grinding crunch of bone if he made it out of this. Between one blink and the next, you were gone. Nothing but the clicking of volcanic glass in your wake.
Graves gathered himself, breathing harshly. The reports had said you were The 141’s weak link. A fragile human among powerful monsters. He had thought of Turning you into one of his Thralls. Making You a shadow. But, then. Well orders were orders, and Graves was nothing if not decently loyal to the people writing his check.
Shepherd wanted to rile The 141 up. Make them show their true colors. You were just the poor little human, that had wormed your way into the team’s heart.
He had drawn it out, after The transfer of the base went to shit with Ghost, Alejandro, and Soap escaping. Had taken his time with draining your life, drop by drop over the course of several days. Till your dinky little Cell became your tomb. After that it was a waiting game, and He got so tired of waiting. He decided to send a message to entice the 141. You weren’t supposed to come back.
Gaz stared at the massive black maw in the middle of Las Almas base. The place was deadly quiet. Not even the rain seemed to make a sound in the presence of the Obsidian Mouth. This was your doing?
He landed on a crumbled building at just the edge of the pit. He peered down trying to make sense of where shadows ended and black volcanic rock began, when he saw it. Bodies. Lots of Bodies. Twisted, Broken Bodies Lined the lowest points of the pit. Spiked through with Glittering shards of obsidian.
The harpy leaned further, flexing his wings and burying his talons in the concrete of the building to keep himself stable. A little red patch caught his eyes. Graves private little army. Shadows, then. He squinted. Something was off about the bodies though. They were pale. Not lack of sunlight pale. Blood loss pale. He finally let go of his perch and smoothly dropped into a swoop, right into the pit. The temperature hit him first. One would expect a deep maw of rock and earth to be cool maybe even cold. No, it was warm like a furnace, bordering on Hot.
Gaz’s mouth tightened in concentration as he landed next to one of the Shadow bodies. The obsidian had torn the poor thing apart but that didn’t explain the complete blood loss. The harpy kicked at the body. Something was off and Gaz was lost.
“Captain.”
The Dragon’s voice crackled through the radio clipped to his flight harness.
“Yes, Gaz?”
“Do you know any creatures that would drain a thrall dry?”
The captain humphed. “No.”
“Well something did. Every single body in this pit is completely drained.”
“Could be a ritual. We haven’t ruled out possession.”
Gaz flipped the body over. There! A thin channel formed into the glass, almost like someone was melting the glass as they dragged their finger through it.
“No we haven’t. I’ll keep poking around.”
“Be careful, Garrick.”
“Always am, sir.”
The harpy followed the trail. Meeting more and more thin little channels of dried blood. He barely noticed as the ground sloped. Pooling the channels into rivers til finally a deep pool formed at the very bottom of the pit.
Gaz stood at the edge of a massive dip, a single pillar of obsidian erected in the center. The walls of the pit were eating the sky, as Gaz peered up at the sun. The sun? Gaz had flown in under storm and wind. Is this what you saw before you left?
Gaz threw himself into the air.
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