#🐍venomous words

[aceparagonings]

tag dump part 3 ( dynamic and ship tags! )

･::･ﾟ☆ HANEKOMA: you took me under the gentle touch of your wings; you have always been my father. ☆ KAKYOIN NORIAKI 💎 meeting you was a fated encounter; you are my shining emerald; our radiance will envelop the galaxy itself. ♥☆💎 HIKARU ｡･::･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ NORIAKI — the sunshine that illuminates your unbreakable emerald; you brighten my world & life. ☆ THE-COMPOSER ☆ you look after me like a guardian angel does; you are my first friend. with you I feel like I can do anything. ☆ KIRYU JOSHUA ☆ you waltzed into my life like an unknowing crescendo; yet our harmonies are melodic together. I will keep Shibuya safe. ☆ KISARAGI GENTARO ☆ my dearest friend — you and I are the stars that will light up the galaxy. with you at my side I have nothing to fear. ☆ G'RAHA TIA 💠 you inspire me to keep going despite the odds I face; with you at my side there is nothing to fear. ♥☆💠 HIKARU ｡･::･ﾟ★｡･::･ﾟ☆ G'RAHA — love that transcends time & space. when we’re together I feel like I’m home. ♥☆📷 HIKARU ｡･::･ﾟ★｡･::･ﾟ☆ TSUKASA — fate dictated that we are never to meet; and yet we are two halves of a whole. ☆ KADOYA TSUKASA 📷 destroyer of worlds & my other half — together we'll defy our destiny and forge our own path. ☆ JUGGLUS JUGGLER 🌙 with words laced with sweet venom to coil around a heart — yet you didn't need to cast illusions to win my heart. ♥☆🐍 HIKARU ｡･::･ﾟ★｡･::･ﾟ☆ JUGGLER — a heart of darkness cannot exist without a heart of light; let me be the guiding star on your path. ☆ DANTE SPARDA 🌹 the devil to my angel; on wings of rebellion does hope burn anew. ever stronger; ever higher. ♥☆🌹 HIKARU ｡･::･ﾟ★｡･::･ﾟ☆ DANTE — ''heaven or hell; let's rock!'' for you—I’d brave the flames of hell itself on wings of hope. ☆ TOKIWA SOUGO 🕛 oh valiant boy king — how brightly does your smile shine. may you never forget that brave heart as fate tests your will. ☆ MYTHCAELS ☆ heroes we are; standing side by side to protect what's important to us. as your mentor I vow to subvert your destiny. ☆ ONODERA YUSUKE 🪲 you who also protects everyone's smiles — because of your kind heart I've found another ally to always rely on. ☆ KAITO DAIKI 👑 although our ideals didn't always align — I know that I can depend on you. thank you for also keeping tsukasa safe. ☆ HIKARI NATSUMI 🍊 it's because of you that tsukasa is who he is today — you kept believing in him no matter what.

[celesomnis]

❝ The Lionguard Gambit ❞

Nyoka Wadjet x Prefect Reader

The prefect requires some help. The snakeman will not provide it without a catch. There is chess, and a more harrowing "game" is maybe played too.

⋰🐍⋱🐍 ⋰🐍⋱🐍⋰🐍⋱🐍⋰🐍⋱🐍⋰🐍⋱🐍 ⋰🐍⋱🐍⋰🐍⋱

babes, bros, and nonbinary beaus, I present to you the highly anticipated ''x reader'' ficlet for @cozymochi and @oddberryshortcake 's slitheringly handsome oc!

because let's be so real, we all down bad for that snake boi.

(and happy christmas you two dears! <3 I hope you do enjoy this and that it lifts your spirits fghsjk and i am so sorry if he is wildly ooc,, I tried my best 😭)

⋰🐍⋱🐍 ⋰🐍⋱🐍⋰🐍⋱🐍⋰🐍⋱🐍⋰🐍⋱🐍 ⋰🐍⋱🐍⋰🐍⋱

“I know a guy for that.”

"Yeah. I'm kinda... I'm kind of here because you do, actually."

Nyoka Wadjet did not look amused.

You folded your fingers together and regarded the venomous beastman as passively and politely as you were able.

"Look. I know since we've been sticking around in Savanaclaw lately, Grim has been pushing your boundaries here and there. So if you help me, I'll make sure he doesn't bother you again like that... for two whole weeks."

Air pushed slowly through his nostrils. He was regarding you more seriously now.

Approaching the very allusive, and admittedly rather frightful, student in order to find somebody who could counterfeit thaumarks was perhaps not the most self-preserving decision you'd made. But it was imperative to a growing idea you had on how to deal with you and your friends' latest Azul troubles.

"Three weeks." You sweetened the deal.

Nyoka's eyes narrowed.

"He landed on my head." was stated factually, like the action's offense spoke for itself.

That had indeed happened. Grim was not a often creature of preserving personal space.

"A month?" You tried.

"A year."

Well that wasn't happening. "Um. I could offer two months, maybe." People really had a tendency to overestimate your level of control over that little (lovable) demon.

It seemed like that was not a favorable compromise. Nyoka's attention dipped from you and moved to the room's center where he had previously been seated.

Your stare followed his towards the shining, porcelain chess set readied and untouched at the low-standing table. Sparking a different tactic.

"Or, maybe you could play me for it?"

His gaze swung lazily back at you. Something about the action, and the hooded way his eyes looked, put little tingles along your arms.

"I promise I actually know how to play." You said, in case he was doubting your authenticity.

Movement caught your attention behind his legs, and a second later, his long tail came swishing side to side. A myriad of scales glittering under the sunroof's light.

A somersault happened inside your stomach, but was ignored in favor of catching Nyoka's next words.

“I like to be on the winning side.”

"Is that you doubting yourself against me?" You pushed.

He tipped his chin up slightly, a sun-flare running over his glasses.

“One battle doesn’t lose a war, prefect.”

The message was clear. Challenge Accepted.

He waved a gloved hand, inviting you to sit, which you obliged.

"Alright." Nyoka told you, easing himself gracefully onto the opposing seat. "If you beat me, I will connect you with my friend. But if I beat you, you will forbid your familiar from invading my presence for the remainder of the year."

Oh dear. He was dead-set on that, wasn't he.

Your eyes met. The colors in his clashed your own.

These were desperate times.

"Deal."

⋰🐍⋱🐍 ⋰🐍⋱🐍⋰🐍⋱🐍⋰🐍⋱🐍⋰🐍⋱🐍 ⋰🐍⋱🐍⋰🐍⋱

The first few minutes of the game were done mostly in silence.

While it was true you knew how to play (at least, back in your home world you had) it'd been awhile since you'd done so for real, and there was a necessary amount of concentration needed in the first half while you eased back into things.

Nyoka, naturally, was a hard player from the start.

Though some of the plays and tactics he tried helped along in jogging your memory of the nuances, there was still some clear rust in your play, whereas he was all refined sharpness.

Poising in ponder, then striking fast.

Quick as a cobra.

The game did not take long to be leant in his favor.

And the silence was becoming brutal.

It was very quiet in the room, which made sense as to why Nyoka liked to frequent here. And it wasn't unsettling.

That was not the issue.

The distress came because in its peace, it caused the only sound you could latch onto in the whole room was the slow, deep, even breaths leaving the man's chest.

Slow in, slower out, over and over.

Each breath led your concentration to phase in and out of the game with it.

When you snapped back to, you found you just lost one of your knights. Rather viciously.

"You're really subtle with your attacks." You noted sardonically, mostly just to say anything.

There was a shake to your hands as they moved your king.

Nyoka watched you fidget.

In reply, there was a smooth counter of; "Hmph. Like a drop to the head."

You wetted your lips. Moved a pawn. "Grim's harmless, just very personable."

"He is lucky I didn't bite him." Nyoka murmured.

You were still a little lost to thought when this was said, so your ears failed to detect if its inflection held jest or sarcasm.

"Really? I figured you too elegant to go around handling annoyances with your teeth," Slipped out of your mouth before sense caught up to it.

His eyes slid at you. Pinned you there.

Something in your gut flipped.

"I should bite you, Prefect."

The game, and entire room, might have disappeared, but right then you couldn't have been sure.

He spoke it low, and it rolled out of his throat in a way that sent heat down your back. "But I think I wouldn't get the taste out of my mouth for days."

The heat became infernal.

Your head turned away, cheek meeting the forgiving cold of the sofa, desperate to pretend those words weren't the most charged thing you'd experienced in your time here.

"Calm yourself," He intoned, and maybe it was your racing mind, but you almost thought he had the gall to sound amused. "Any venom I have is reserved for other targets."

Oh, you were anything but calm. But there was a bell ringing in the distance, another later hour revealing itself.

It was getting late, and you still had a chess game at stake.

Nyoka exhaled, a low and long huff that makes you at once certain you won't be able to stand for a long while after this.

It felt like a lot of things were at stake right now.

From infernal to charred, you were a wreck at this point.

Forcing your focus to cooperate, the board came back to life before you and a realization was brought with it.

"Finding it difficult to think?" His words were edged with a sultry hiss.

You steeled. Made your move fast. Trying to keep your face unchanging.

Nyoka fluttered his long fingers atop his pieces, calculating, before finally resting atop his queen. And took your pawn.

A sudden sense of victory quelled all other emotions within you, and with haste you moved your knight into a position that seemed vulnerable.

Taking the bait, Nyoka moved his queen back where it was before.

You struck, using your bishop to fly across the board for the winning move. Exclaiming "Check!" and knocking porcelain against porcelain. Hands springing up, elated. "Hah! I did it! The Lionguard Gambit!"

Nyoka looked up at you fast, then moved aback. Expression one you couldn't define. "The... What."

You remained as you were. Enjoying the simmer of your victory.

Thanking the gods and the Seven for having provided the luck that led you to stumble across that move in a late-night library study one evening.

The snakeman stared at you a long time.

The longer that the seconds ticked by, the less sure of yourself you became. Fearful there had been a miscalculation or premature celebration.

You hadn't done it wrong, had you?

And then, Nyoka said; "...Lionheart Gambit?"

A rush of burning sensation to your ears coaxed your arms into a deflate.

"Oh." That was embarrassing. "Well- you know what I meant! My point is, I won!"

"So you did." He relented, sparing you by moving on from your blunder.

It had felt like your mispronunciation had sort of rattled him, for whatever reason, but that was a mystery for another time.

“I guess some battles can turn a war’s tides, snake eyes.” You said, tone lilting once more coy.

Nyoka lowered himself into the spine of his chair with crossing arms.

You waited. "...Um. So. Nyoka?"

"Don't get fretful, prefect, I withhold my ends of bargains. I'll introduce you to the person you seek tomorrow."

You felt a press of disappoint, but relented that it had gotten late. You hadn't realized when the sun's shine had been replaced with the softer lights of the overhead lanterns.

Rising from the seat, knees mercifully only wobbling a little, you offered him thanks and began to make the - perhaps a little purposefully slowed - trek towards the exit.

"Well. Goodnight, Nyoka."

"Hmm."

"You not going to sleep?"

"In a while."

“Ah. Putting in some extra practice for when you get a good chess partner?” You tossed playfully over a shoulder.

“That is not an issue.”

Nyoka rolled his fingers into a fist and set his chin on it. He did not look back at you, but somehow, the heat in your chest returned all the same.

And beyond noise of the door shutting after you, you caught six words that kept that heat burning low in your chest for the whole night following;

“I know a prefect for that.”

⋰🐍⋱🐍 ⋰🐍⋱🐍⋰🐍⋱🐍⋰🐍⋱🐍⋰🐍⋱🐍 ⋰🐍⋱🐍⋰🐍⋱

fin.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 2: I’m The Son Of Rage And Love]

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes, Jace is here unfortunately.

Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “Jesus Of Suburbia” by Green Day.

Word count: 6.2k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰

On the shores of the Susquehanna River, just north of Harrisburg, you find a Wawa with no gas: bags on all the pumps, cars with their fuel caps unscrewed and dangling. This is a common courtesy adopted en masse, like rationing during the World Wars or flying American flags after 9/11. It signals that a car has already been siphoned, no gasoline to be found here, no transparent flammable gold made of eons-past decomposition. You wonder if in a few million years, some unfathomable new apex species will be drilling your liquefied remains from the lightless layers of the earth to power their spaceships.

“Then we got sent to Joint Base Anacostia-Bolling,” Rio continues, gnawing on a piece of beef jerky, Jack Link’s in a red bag, teriyaki. Mercifully, whoever took the gas left some of the food. You are sitting in the parking lot, a quaint zombie apocalypse picnic, trail mix and Rice Krispies Treats, Herr’s potato chips and Tastykakes, warm soda sipped from plastic bottles. Luke and Rhaena are on the roof of the Tahoe. Jace is tearing the convenience store apart; he is convinced the employees must have kept a gun somewhere in case of robberies. You know he’s fine. You can hear him banging around and swearing in there.

“Then we built some schools and a hospital in Djibouti,” you say.

Aegon is baffled yet intrigued. “Djibouti…?”

“It’s on the Horn of Africa, near Ethiopia and Somalia.”

Luke snorts. “It’s nice of you to assume he knows where Africa is.”

“Huh.” Aegon tosses a green M&M into his mouth. “Djibouti is horny.”

Rio says: “And after that we spent like six months in Key West, and then we got shipped to Corpus Christi, where Chips very narrowly avoided getting impregnated by, marrying, and inevitably acrimoniously divorcing a Marine.”

Everyone laughs except Aemond, who gives you a teasing smirk. “Did you really?”

“Uh, no. He asked me out, I ghosted him, that’s as far as it went.”

“Why’d you ghost him?” Baela says, crunching on Utz Cheese Balls.

Aegon turns to Rio. “You want a Honey Bun?”

“You’re my Honey Bun,” Rio replies. Aegon smiles, his sunburn flushing darker.

You shrug, eat a handful of candied almonds, tell a half-truth. “I just didn’t like him enough.”

Rhaena yelps and points: a snake, black and maybe five feet long, is slithering across the parking lot. It passes beneath the shade of the Tahoe and then continues towards the bushes. A moderate amount of panic erupts.

Helaena glances up from her notebook. “Rat snake. Not venomous.”

Rhaena shudders. “Well, I still don’t like it.”

“Where were you stationed next?” Daeron asks Rio.

“Chinhae, South Korea. Wicked cool place. The people love Americans, the food is incredible. We were there to rebuild a pier that got wrecked in a typhoon. They have these cute dolphin-looking things, they’d swim right up to the edge of the water with fish in their mouths to try to give to us. Like cats bringing home mice for their owners.”

“Finless porpoises,” you say.

“Yeah, those. And after Korea, it was Diego Garcia.”

“Diego…what?” Rhaena says.

Aegon turns to Luke. “Try to act like I’m stupid for not knowing where that is.”

“Diego Garcia is a tiny little island in the middle of the Indian Ocean,” you say, a bit wistfully. “It’s technically owned by the British, but we share a base there, we use it for airfields and to refuel submarines, things like that. We were renovating the housing facilities for Camp Thunder Cove. At night we’d go to the beach, have a few beers, look out into the ocean and it was just…nothing. Wide open dark nothingness for as far as you could imagine.”

“That’s what we need now,” Helaena murmurs as she makes elegant cursive annotations in her notebook, the cover picturing different species of spiders, a pinktoe tarantula, a green lynx spider, a black widow. “Someplace to go where no one will find us.”

“So you’ve known each other since basic training.” Aemond’s remaining blue eye shifts between you and Rio, like he’s still trying to puzzle it out. There’s really no mystery. You’re friends, and you’ve always been friends, and you’ve never been more than friends, despite many of your fellow seamen’s jokes to the contrary.

You tear open a Slim Jim. Aemond rebandaged your hands this morning, though they barely hurt anymore; he touches you with a clinical, focused restraint. “Not quite that long. Rio enlisted a few months before I did, so we weren’t at Great Lakes together, and then carpenters do technical school in Gulfport, Mississippi near Biloxi, and electricians train at Sheppard Air Force Base in Texas. We met after we were both assigned to Naval Mobile Construction Battalion 1.”

“The First and The Finest,” Rio quotes the motto, grinning. “The original Seabees, founded during World War II. People called our battalion the Pioneers, which…is kind of ironic now.”

Aegon says, munching noisily on trail mix: “It’ll be so appropriate when you end up dying of a broken leg or the flu or in some other totally preventable way.”

“It’s so crazy, people died of anything back then,” Luke marvels gravely. “Tuberculosis, pneumonia, infections, starving, freezing, poisoning, getting kicked by a horse, giving birth…”

Rhaena shoots him a fearsome look and Luke shuts up, but of course he can’t take it back. There is a long uncomfortable silence punctuated only by birdsong and Jace’s muffled outbursts from inside the Wawa. Everyone looks at Baela, concerned, pitying, entirely unable to do anything to improve her situation. She is still eating Cheese Balls with one orange-stained hand, but the other rests on her belly.

“Clearly, the timing is less than ideal,” Baela says after a while, and if she’s terrified she doesn’t sound like it. “It wasn’t planned to begin with, but I was determined to make the best of things. I figured that I could still finish up my master’s degree with a baby, and Rhaena and our parents could help, and Jace would be done with law school soon, and it might be stressful for a while but we’d all get through it. And now…” She shrugs wryly. “Now all those plans are gone. Just gone.”

“You’re going to be okay,” Aemond says; a fierce low determination, a promise, a vow.

Baela smiles at Rio. “How old is your baby?”

He is caught off-guard, clears his throat, averts his gaze. Aegon looks over at him, alarmed. “Oh, he, uh…he’s little. Really little. He…” And Rio, so rarely at a loss for words, can’t continue. He eats his beef jerky instead.

You explain for him. “Sophie’s due date was right around the time the phones and internet went down. The last we heard, she was headed to Odessa to stay with Rio’s parents.” Aemond and his companions nod and don’t say what they’re thinking, but it’s swimming in their eyes: Sophie could have died, the baby could have died, they both could have died, you and Rio might be risking your lives to cross the continental United States for nothing. “Rio’s parents live in this…well, I joke around and call it a doomsday prepper cult, but that’s not really what it is, it’s just a farming community out in the middle of nowhere. People who have their own chickens and gardens, churn their own butter, don’t wear deodorant, make medicine out of tree bark…and a lot of them have kind of a survivalist mentality, they stock pantries and collect guns. So we figure we can reunite Rio with his family and then carve out lives for ourselves in relative peace.”

Rio reaches over to bump his fist against your shoulder. He is grateful. You punch him back, fairly forcefully; it’s like hitting a brick wall. Rio is as tall as Aemond but probably outweighs him by a hundred pounds.

You ask Aemond: “What’s in the Bay Area?”

“Our parents have a beach house. It’s up on a cliff by itself, pretty isolated, and surrounded by state parks. That’s where they were when everything shut down. I assume they’re still there.”

“Beach house?” Rio raises his eyebrows. “On a cliff?”

Rich kids. REALLY rich kids. “Your parents couldn’t just fly you to California in a private jet or something?” you say.

“Our pilots stole the jets,” Aemond replies, not realizing you were joking.

“Oh.”

“Jace and Luke’s parents were home in London, so getting there isn’t really an option, and then Baela and Rhaena…”

“Mum and Dad were on a business trip to Moscow,” Baela says. “I’d like to think they weren’t eaten, but…they were probably eaten.”

“I am so sorry,” you manage awkwardly.

A single zombie goes shuffling past the Wawa on the main street, a woman in a floral church dress, hair falling out of its curls, one pink high heel that clicks on the pavement, blood all over her mouth and chin. She notices the nine of you and begins to hiss, lurching closer. Daeron shoots her down and then trots over to retrieve his arrows, yanking them out of her cheek and eye socket. Rhaena winces. Aemond, distracted, bites into a Nature Valley granola bar. Aegon opens a can of Pringles, pizza-flavored.

Luke is peering through his binoculars, looking south towards Harrisburg. Faintly, you can see sunlight glinting off the gilded statue of a woman—the Spirit of the Commonwealth—that tops the green clay tile dome of the state capitol building. “What is that?”

“The sculpture?” you say.

“No. Farther away. Those big concrete towers, right on the water.”

Now you know exactly what he means…and you’d forgotten all about it. It’s an oversight you hope doesn’t cost too much. “That’s Three Mile Island. And we should leave so we can put more space between it and us.”

“Oh, fuck me…” Rio mutters.

Now everyone else is squinting to see the facility, barely visible from the Wawa. “Why?” Aemond asks you.

“Because it’s a nuclear power plant. And since the electricity is out everywhere, as soon as its backup generators fail, it will melt down and the whole area around it will become radioactive.”

Aegon puts two Pringles into his mouth so they look like a duck bill. “How do you know?”

“Did no one else go through a Chernobyl obsession phase in high school?”

“The professor mentioned it in one of my chemistry classes,” Aemond says, but he sounds doubtful; this must have been years ago, when he was consumed by med school prerequisites and had no space left in his brain for mere curiosity.

“Okay, listen up.” Rio knows the key points; he’s had to study different sources of electrical power. He demonstrates with dramatic hand gestures. “You have super radioactive reactor fuel, usually uranium or plutonium. You have a pool of water around it that circulates continuously. The heat of the fuel evaporates the water, which makes steam, which spins turbines, thus creating power. But if the external electricity fails, the water stops circulating, and the heat vaporizes all of it, and when there’s no more water the reactor fuel overheats and melts through the floor and poisons the earth, air, and groundwater. Any questions?”

There is a chorus of distressed chattering as people swiftly rise to their feet, clutching armfuls of snacks for the road. Jace comes trudging out of the Wawa, conspicuously not in possession of a firearm.

“No luck?” Daeron asks.

“Obviously not.” Then Jace snaps at Aemond: “Why were you stomping around all pissed off in the medicine aisle earlier? What were you looking for?”

“Nothing,” Aemond says quickly.

“Seriously, dude, what was it?”

“Nothing!”

“Damn, Plankton, calm down.” Jace shields his face from the sun, following Luke’s nervous eyeline towards the concrete cooling towers to the south. “What’s that?”

“Three Mile Island,” you say. “And we’re leaving now.”

Aegon yawns loudly. “I’m so full! Rio, can you carry me to the car?” And before anyone can tell Aegon to shut up, Rio has crouched down to let him scramble onto his back. Aegon cackles and waves his can of Pringles around as Rio sprints to the Tahoe. Now there are a few more zombies stumbling up the street, but you don’t waste arrows or bullets on them. Baela runs them down as she swerves out of the parking lot and drives northwest, heading towards Clarks Ferry Bridge where you will cross the Susquehanna River in a less populated area and commence the long slog to the Ohio border. She turns up the volume on the CD player: London Bridge by Fergie. Immediately, Rio, Aegon, Daeron, Rhaena, and Luke are singing along.

Baela checks the fuel gauge and looks at Aemond in the rearview mirror. “We have half a tank left.”

“We’ll find gas somewhere.”

“Aemond, it’ll be alright. Don’t worry about me.”

“You’re not going to be able to walk to California.”

Baela can’t think of a response. He’s right. Outside, the miles roll by in a blur of radiant, reptilian, early-summer green.

~~~~~~~~~~

Each time the interstate is blocked by a snarl of crashed vehicles or a backup too thick to navigate through—both common occurrences—Aegon digs the folded map out of his shorts and charts a new course for Baela to follow. This particular divergence might prove fortunate. The Tahoe has rolled into Distant, Pennsylvania, an Appalachian speck of a town, churches, coal mines, dilapidated old sheds. On the outskirts, perched on a hill and surrounded by oak trees, you find a small single-story brick house with a myriad of banners on the flagpole: an American flag, a Confederate flag, a black POW/MIA flag, Don’t Tread On Me, Trump 2024.

“Yeah,” Aegon says, scratching his scruffy chin as he peers up through the windshield. “I feel like they probably owned guns.”

“How do we know they’re not still home?” Baela asks warily.

“No car in the driveway,” Aemond observes. “No windows boarded up. They probably ran into trouble while they were out somewhere and never made it back.” Then he waits, the question upspoken. Are we going to risk it?

“We’re down,” Rio says after exchanging a glance with you.

Aemond turns to Jace. Jace—curly dark hair down to his shoulders, eyes on the house, chewing his full bottom lip apprehensively—doesn’t reply at first.

“You said you wanted a gun, Jace. All the Walmarts are cleaned out. This is what shopping looks like now.”

“Fine. Okay. Let’s go.”

Baela parks the Tahoe in the gravel driveway and tells Rhaena and Luke to stay inside with Helaena until the property has been cleared. The rest of you climb out, afternoon sun and mountain wind, dandelions crushed under your shoes. There’s a barn behind the house, you see now, gaps between the wooden boards and flaking red paint.

Luke is standing up through the open sunroof, inspecting the scene with his binoculars. “No movement.”

“We’ll take the house, if you want,” Rio tells Aemond. You’re clutching your borrowed baseball bat with bandaged hands, though it still feels unnatural; your M9 is in its holster in case of emergencies. Jace, Baela, and Daeron start plodding across the yard towards the barn. The grass is tall and mostly shaded, the oak trees decades old, massive, weaving a patchwork canopy of leaves.

Aegon trots over and slaps Aemond on his left shoulder, his blind side. Aemond says without looking at him: “I’ll go with them. You wait out here.”

Aegon drives an imaginary ball with his golf club. “I’m very sensitive to rejection, you know.”

“You’ll survive.” Then Aemond follows you and Rio to the house.

Rio tries the knob, locked. He doesn’t waste a bullet by trying to shoot the lock off the door, something that is far less reliable than movies would have you believe. He kicks it open instead, three tries and then the screws that secure the latch give way and the door swings ajar. You wait, counting seconds in your head, listening for growls or footsteps. There are no sounds except the breeze sighing through the trees, the warbles and wing flaps of birds. You steal a glimpse of the barn. Jace, Baela, and Daeron have unhooked the rusted iron latch and are venturing inside, Daeron last and glancing around watchfully, his compound bow already drawn. Rio steps into the house.

It’s hot, stifling, all the windows shut. But this has its advantages. You inhale deeply: no trace of decomposition, no black swampy nauseating rot, just dust and lemon Pledge and old-people staleness.

“Smells fine,” Rio says. And then, loudly: “Anyone home? We’re just looking for supplies. We don’t want to hurt you. If anybody is here, just let us know and we’d be happy to leave. And, uh, sorry about the door.”

You stay close to Rio as he sweeps through the living room—floral couch, television turned off, crosses on the walls—and then the kitchen, where bananas are turning black on the counter. Aemond is to your right; he’s placed you on his blind side. He trusts me, you think. When did that happen? You haven’t heard anything from Aegon or the barn. That must be going well.

In the bedroom, Aemond pulls the curtains open to let some light in. You search the drawers, the closet, under the bed. No weapons. The bathroom has 1950s-style pink porcelain, the dining room table is set for a meal that never happened. There is a deer head mounted on the wall, ten points, not bad.

“I can’t believe these fuckers didn’t have guns,” Rio says. “But where the hell are they?!”

You have always watched more than you’ve spoken. That’s why you’re good at shooting things, and why you’re still alive. Rio talks and you listen; Rio acts and you reflect. “Wait.” You turn to Aemond. “Did you see a cellar outside?”

“A what?” He is perplexed. “Like…a wine cellar…?”

“No. A regular cellar.” You walk back into the midday heat and circle the house, Aemond and Rio hurrying to keep up. Over by the barn, everyone else is stretched out across the grass, joking, relaxing, Baela with her hammer on the ground and her hands laced over her belly, Helaena cradling a praying mantis in her palms and showing it to Rhaena. Aegon is teaching Luke how to smoke with a pack of Marlboro Golds he found at the Wawa. Luke, game yet somewhat anxious, takes a puff and then immediately coughs until he starts retching.

“I want to try too,” Daeron says.

Aegon shakes his head, taking a nonchalant drag off his own cigarette. “Nope. Not for you. Illegal. You’re under eighteen.”

“I want to try!”

“Shut up, you can’t even vote.”

“Nobody can vote, the government has collapsed!”

You find it at the back of the house: a pair of large metal doors leading down into the underground cellar. The weeds have begun to encroach on them, wild violets and black nightshade.

“Awesome!” Rio says, lifting the doors open one at a time, the hinges shrieking. They’re heavy, but they cause him no trouble. Underneath is a staircase and a room dark with shadows; you can see a light switch that won’t work, the electricity long gone. Rio unclips the flashlight from his  belt—taken from Saratoga Springs, waterproof with a 90-degree head so it doesn’t roll, known as a Moonbeam—and ducks down into the cellar. It’s a small room, easy to clear, and then you can start inventorying your findings. Rio is laughing, ecstatic. There is a workbench, a coil of thick rope, an array of tools—screwdrivers, wrenches, hammers, saws—some homemade leather wallets and holsters, cans of Brillo color spray…and then a treasure trove of weapons mounted on the walls.

You scan the collection. “We got Marlin .22s, we got Ruger Magnums, we got Remington 12 gauges, we got hunting knives…and one Glock 20.”

“A lot of ammo under here, Chips,” Rio says, yanking boxes out from beneath the workbench and stacking them on the floor, organized by caliber.

“No scopes?”

“Not that I’ve seen yet.”

You lift one of the Remingtons off its hooks and examine it: dusty, unloaded, vines of rust on the receiver. “We’ll have to go through and sight all of them. I don’t think they’ve been used in a while.”

“That’ll be a lot of noise. But here’s the place to do it, I guess. Low population, and we’re not staying.”

“Exactly.”

“Sight them for close range, like ten yards?”

“Yeah, that should work.”

Aemond says, eyebrow raised: “I didn’t know the Navy used shotguns.”

“Everyone hunts where I’m from.” You put the Remington down on the workbench then pick up the Glock, a box of 10mm ammo, and a can of Brillo. “Come on. Grab one of those hammers. I’ll show you how to shoot.”

You bound up the cellar steps and out into the shade of the oak trees, not stopping until you are at the edge of the property. Across the backyard where he lounges on the grass, Aegon gestures to the barn and asks Luke: “What’s in there anyway?”

“Nothing. Saddles and a few dead horses.”

“Oh, dynamite, I gotta see the dead horses.”

Jace says: “Aegon, man, what is your diagnosis?”

You use the can of Brillo to spray a large chocolate-colored circle onto a tree trunk, then make another two feet above that. You count your steps as you walk back towards Aemond: approximately ten yards. You load a single bullet in the Glock, aim for the bottom circle, and fire. A hole appears at the very edge of the circle. You take the hammer from Aemond and give the rear sight a few knocks. “This isn’t recommended, but it usually works.”

Aemond is smiling. “Okay.”

You load the full magazine and try again. The bullet hits closer to the middle this time. “Here. Both hands.”

Aemond takes the Glock but hesitates. “Is…my eye…?”

“It shouldn’t be a problem. A lot of people close one eye anyway when they’re aiming. I always do.”

He is relieved. “Oh. Good.”

You tap the underside of the Glock. Aemond obediently lifts it. “The line of sight is slightly higher than the barrel, so you have to account for that. And then gravity will pull the bullet lower, and the longer the range of the shot, the more it will drop. So when you fire, the barrel should be angled upwards just the tiniest bit, not horizontal.”

“Like throwing a football.”

“Yeah, exactly. It’s an arc, not a straight line. At first it’ll feel like you’re trying to do all these calculations in your head, and it will be overwhelming, but then it becomes muscle memory and you don’t even have to think about it.” Jace, Baela, and Daeron are now eagerly crossing the yard to help Rio carry the guns out of the cellar and receive their own lessons. “Alright, we’re going to start with a really terrifying enemy. I want you to shoot that tree.”

“What a formidable tree.”

“Aim for the top circle. And if you hit it, then you can practice on Jace.”

Aemond laughs, butter-yellow sunlight filtering down through the trees, the shadows of leaves flickering over his skin, a mosaic of flesh and earth. You ghost your open hand down the length of his arm as if adjusting the angle. Really, you just want to touch him, to feel his warmth and his stillness, the tension of his muscles, the rhythm of his pulse. He’s watching you, lips parted, goosebumps rising beneath your fingertips. Birds are chirping, sparrows and blue jays. High above, squirrels leap and scrabble through the branches. You pull your hand away.

“Look through the sights. The rear sight at the back of the barrel is shaped like a U, and the one at the front is an I. Is the I in the middle of the U?”

“I have no idea.” A pause as he reconsiders. “Yes.”

“Right, it is, and the bullet should go exactly where you want it to because I already sighted that Glock. I’ll show you how to do it later. Now shoot the tree.”

Aemond aims but doesn’t pull the trigger. He’s nervous; he doesn’t want to seem incompetent, pathetic. You imagine it is rare that he isn’t the one with the solutions.

“Hey,” you say softly, and he looks over at you. “You don’t judge me for not knowing how to cure people. I won’t judge you for not knowing how to kill them. Deal?”

Now he’s smiling again. “Deal.” He returns his attention to the tree, lets a few more seconds tick by, and fires. He hits one of the branches. “Oh, that is…embarrassing.”

“It’s not that bad. You hit something. Try again.”

More seconds, more birdsong, more wind through the grass and the leaves. Aemond’s second bullet pierces the trunk about six inches above the top circle. “Yes!” he cheers, boyish triumph on his scarred face.

You resist touching him. It is startlingly difficult. “That was really good.”

He lowers the Glock, and you click the safety on for him. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” you say.

“Why’d you ghost that Marine at Corpus Christi?”

“I told you. I didn’t like him enough.”

“Okay, sure, but actually. What was wrong with him?”

“I’ve known you for like twenty-four hours. You think you’ve earned all my secrets?”

“Well, not all of them,” Aemond says, grinning. Rio is showing Jace, Baela, and Daeron how to load the .22s. Aegon is swinging his golf club in circles as he follows Luke into the barn. Helaena and Rhaena are giggling as butterflies land on their outstretched fingers. “But our time together could be very finite. It seems unwise to waste it by trying to preserve some amount of mystery.”

“You’ve convinced me.” You want to be known by him, you want to be understood. That is a frightening thing to realize. It’s like handing a stranger the keys to your home. Will they visit graciously, or will they rob you, ruin you, burn you down? “I haven’t seen many examples of love working out for people. I’ve seen couples who hated each other, and couples who split up, and a lot of women having to raise kids all on their own and turning into these…bitter, exhausted, hollowed-out versions of themselves. I never wanted that to be me. And for as long as I can remember, I’ve felt like that was just one wrong choice away from becoming my life. I don’t want men to disappoint me. So I don’t give them the chance.”

You think Aemond is going to say something cheap, flirtatious, awful: Give me a chance, baby. I won’t disappoint you. Instead he says: “I haven’t known many happy couples either. I mean…Luke and Rhaena would be the closest, I guess. But they’re so young. I’m not sure if they count.”

“Rio and Sophie seem happy. But they’ve also barely seen each other in five years.”

“It does things to you, when you start to believe love might be doomed to end or tear you apart or turn to hatred. If it’s just an evolutionary mirage to trick us into reproducing, what’s the point of giving someone that power over you?”

“Exactly.”

“I feel like one of us should be trying to talk the other out of being so fatalistically cynical.”

“Yeah, totally. Okay. You talk me out of it.”

He chuckles. “No, I don’t think I can. You talk me out of it.”

You’re watching Aemond, realizing you like everything about him—his smirk, his height, his hands, the clear direct blue of his eye—and wondering what the hell you’re going to do about it. Then there is a scream from the barn.

What?? Who??

“Luke!” Aemond shouts, and takes off across the yard. Now you’re all running, even Rhaena and Helaena who don’t have anything to fight with. Everyone is yelling, their lungs heaving in wild June air, their shoes pounding against the earth.

Inside the barn, on a wooden floor strewn with hay, Luke is shrieking as he tries to push a zombie off of him with his bare hands. She’s an older woman, grey hair in rollers, yellow nightgown stained with gore. Something has happened to her feet. Both of her legs end in exposed tibias and flapping strips of purplish, rotting skin. Aegon is beating her with his golf club, but he can’t get a good shot at her head. If he accidentally hits Luke, he could make it worse, he could stun him or even knock him out, and he’ll be bitten in the few seconds it takes anyone to remove his undead assailant. Rio lunges to grab the zombie. She snaps at him with bared teeth and he retreats, drawing his M9.

“Don’t shoot!” Jace is saying. The air is putrid: dead horses, dead people. “You’ll hit Luke!”

Your own M9 is suddenly in your hands, the safety clicked off, one eye closed. “Luke, don’t move.”

“Kill it, kill it!” he pleads hysterically, pushing the zombie as far from him as he can, his palms sinking into the decomposing bruise-colored tissue of her chest and throat.

“Don’t shoot!” Jace orders, but you ignore him. He fades into the background with all the other frenzied voices. Your finger on the trigger, a boom like thunder, bits of bone and brains against the wall. Luke shoves the corpse away, trembling, sobbing. Rhaena flies to him.

Aegon spots the fresh blood on Luke’s right hand and panics. “Is that a bite?!”

Luke notices the wound for the first time. “I don’t know!”

“What do you mean you don’t know?!”

“I don’t know!” Luke wails, tears flooding down his pink face.

“I thought you cleared the barn!” Aemond roars at Aegon.

“It fell out of the loft, we didn’t think anything was up there!”

Luke is blubbering: “I hit my hand against one of the stalls, I think that’s how I cut myself, I was just…I was pushing it away…I didn’t think it bit me…oh my God, I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t want to die…”

“It only takes once, kid,” Rio says grimly, fidgeting with his M9, looking at Aemond as if for permission.

“Don’t touch him!” Jace hisses, stepping in front of his brother and clutching his bat. “No one is going to hurt him, it’s not a bite, you can’t prove it’s a bite!”

You reach for Luke’s bleeding hand. “Can I see—?”

“Get away from him!” Jace swings his bat. The tip of it connects with your skull, just a graze fortunately, but still enough to rattle you. Rio charges Jace, tackles him to the floor, starts throwing punches. Baela has apparently forgotten she’s heavily pregnant and is trying to pull them apart. You join her.

He’s going to demolish Jace. He’s going to break his nose or jaw or something. “Rio stop, I’m fine, stop!”

There is another gunshot, a cataclysmic earth-shaking explosion that makes the pain in your head surge from a ripple to a wave. Aemond is aiming his Glock skywards; a hole has appeared in the roof of the barn. “Stand up!” he commands. Rio and Jace reluctantly comply. You help Baela to her feet.

“Aemond,” Jace says. “You have to stop them, they’re going to kill Luke—”

“No one is killing anybody.” Aemond lowers his Glock. “Maybe he’s been bitten. Maybe he hasn’t been. And even if we knew for sure that he was going to turn, we don’t just execute people like this, threatening them when they’re terrified. We have humanity. We have compassion.”

There is a silence that strikes you as heavy, laden, holding meaning that escapes you. Aegon points at Luke. “So what the fuck are we going to do about him?”

“We’ll tie him up,” Aemond decides.

“What?!” Luke exclaims.

“There’s rope in the cellar. We’ll tie his arms and legs so he can’t do anything and keep him like that for a few days until either his hand heals up or he turns into a zombie. Someone will always have to be with him to help him eat and take a piss and also…you know. Deal with it if he turns.”

“I’ll stay with him,” Rhaena says immediately.

Aemond’s voice is now gentle, sympathetic. “I don’t think you want this.”

“If Luke has to die, I should be the person with him.”

“You’ve never had to put someone down before.” And in this statement lives another: Aemond knows what that feels like. Aemond has had to kill someone when they turned.

“I’ll stay with him,” Rhaena says again, this frail harmless doe-eyed girl, and you see a steeliness in her that you hadn’t thought existed.

“Okay,” Aemond relents. “When you’re asleep, Jace or I will take over.”

“It’s not a bite,” Jace murmurs, like he’s trying to convince himself.

“We’ll all find out soon enough,” Rio says, casting him a glare, then goes to fetch the coil of rope from the cellar.

Aemond cleans and bandages the wound on Luke’s hand. Then the weapons, ammo, and newly immobilized Luke are loaded into the Tahoe. Aemond asks you once everyone else is inside: “How’s your head?”

“Fine, I think.”

“Hurts?”

“Just a little.”

“Dizzy? Double vision?”

“No, nothing like that.”

He takes a quick look, parting your hair with his fingertips, feeling gingerly for blood and swelling. And this is becoming a serious problem: every time he touches you, you want more.

“Aemond…who did you have to kill?”

He doesn’t answer. For another moment his hand lingers by your temple, then Aemond turns away and climbs into the Tahoe. This time, no one sings along to the next song on the mixtape. Heads rest on windows, eyes are vacant and misty. Baela steers the Tahoe westbound on Route 1004, the Chainsmokers drifting through the speakers: All We Know.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Pick a card, any card,” Aegon says when he’s done shuffling. He fans out the entire Uno deck face-down and offers it to Rio, Aemond, and Jace. They each select a card, then Aegon picks one for himself. Finally, he holds out the deck to Luke, who stares up incredulously from where he’s still bound with rope and sitting on a curb in the parking lot of a Burger King just outside of Yarnell, Pennsylvania.

“Are you serious?”

“You’re an adult male, aren’t you? You think being in the middle of transforming into an undead murder machine exempts you from gasoline siphoning duty?”

“I’m fine!” Luke insists.

“Great. Then pick a card.”

“I can’t move my hands, you idiot.”

“Pick it with your mouth.”

“I hate you.” Luke bites his card of choice and waits with it clasped between his teeth, glowering.

“I want to pick a card,” Daeron says cheerfully.

Aegon refuses. “No. Too young. A baby.”

“Aegon, I’m seventeen!”

“Can’t enlist, can’t do jury duty, can’t buy lottery tickets, can’t sign up to drink gasoline. Okay, everybody show their cards.”

“I got a three,” Jace says, then yanks Luke’s card out of his mouth and reads it. “He got a skip.”

Aemond’s card is a nine, Rio’s a five, Aegon’s a reverse. “That means you lose, Jace,” Aegon announces, admittedly rather gleeful. “You had the lowest number.”

“This is bullshit, I had to siphon last time!”

“Then stop picking bad cards.”

“Jace, I can do it,” Aemond says.

“And get to be the martyr, as usual? No thanks. Give me the damn hose.”

Aegon roots around under the Tahoe seats and produces a long, semitransparent siphoning hose. “All the ones with the little pump attachments were sold out everywhere by the time we thought that might be useful,” he explains to you and Rio.

“That sucks, Jace,” Rio says. “I mean, literally, it sucks.”

“Next time we cross a bridge, I’m pushing you off it.” Jace takes the hose from Aegon, pops open the gas cap of the Dodge Ram 3500 you’ve found, and threads the hose down into the tank. He sucks on the other end and then shoves it into the Tahoe once the gasoline starts flowing. The fuel gauge was hovering just above E. Hopefully you can get at least a few gallons out of the Ram, another fifty or a hundred miles, maybe even two hundred, enough to get you across the Ohio border.

Jace is bent over and vomiting gasoline onto the pavement. Rhaena and Baela sit with Luke as Aemond feels his forehead and peers into his eyes. Daeron accompanies Helaena as she goes to scavenge inside the Burger King, her burlap messenger bag slung over one shoulder. Rio is now holding the siphoning hose and watching the liquid gold pour into the Tahoe, his smile growing with each passing second. Your eyes fall on Aemond and stay there, his careful hands, his brow knitted with concentration.

A whisper from behind you: “We could fake date to make him jealous.”

You whirl to see Aegon, mischievous smirk, neon green plastic sunglasses. “That is a super generous offer and I appreciate the thought you put into it, but no.”

“Why not?”

“It’s dishonest. It’s manipulative. If something is going to happen with Aemond, I want it to be real.”

Aegon sighs. “No, you’re right, it was a dumb idea. I just figured I have a lot of experience.”

“Experience with what?”

“People pretending to love me.” He flashes a strange, sad smile, then follows Daeron and Helaena into the Burger King.

[weyirn]

Hello :)) I hope you’re well! could i please ask for a sort of reaction-type thing with marvel men x male reader, where the reader smothers their face and hands in small kisses, especially when they’re in a bad mood?? thank you!!

Hi!! I hope you're doing good as well!! :3

Marvel Men x Male!Reader

Smothering Their Face and Hands With Kisses

----------------------------------

☆Steve blushes and smiles every time. He gladly returns the favor by grabbing your waist and kissing you on your lips, as well as giving you forehead kisses. If he's in a bad mood, it probably won't change his mood drastically, but he will appreciate you trying to make him feel better.

❄️Bucky hasn't gotten this kind of affection in a long time, but this is still a pleasant surprise for him. He absolutely just melts underneath your touch and the kisses you give him, especially when you're using this to comfort him when he has nightmares. He's a little shy on returning the favor at first, but when he eventually does, he gives you all the hugs and kisses you desire.

💲Tony teases you about how you just can't get enough of him and then brags about how irresistible he is (ugh lol). He'll probably kiss you in public and have his arm around your waist to show you off. Doing this while he's in a bad mood will cause him to roll his eyes and say something among the lines of, "a kiss can't fix everything." (And then he'll ask for some later lol)

🕸Peter gets flustered every time and just stutters over his words, not sure what to say. There are times when he's too shy to ask for kisses when he wants them, so he uses little hints instead, which may result in him being teased about it. It will give him comfort when you give him kisses when he's in a bad mood.

⌲Sam jokes about you doing this all day long (which you probably would do lol), but admits that he wouldn't mind it. He can always count on you to cheer him up, laughing while you give him kisses, lifting his mood. He loves to give you surprise kisses every now and then.

🐜Scott would immediately cup your cheeks and kiss you all over your face in return. When he's in a bad mood, it catches him off guard and he might just forget what he was mad about.

💚This surprises Bruce and makes him a little flustered at first, but he still appreciates it. It's beneficial if you do this when Bruce is in a good mood; it makes him feel loved and he appreciates the affection.

⚡️Thor gives you just as much kisses (if not way more). But he kisses you anywhere and everywhere, not just your hands and face.

🐍Loki doesn't know what to think about it at first since he's not used to receiving affection. Over time, he slowly just wants more and more of it. When he's in a bad mood, he acts like he doesn't want it or enjoy it (even though he actually loves it).

🖤Eddie definitely needs something like this. With all the stress and how tired out he gets from it, it's good for him to finally wind down, along with you just pressing kisses on his face. Venom on the other hand teases you about it.

[whumperly]

Whump Symbols Masterlist

Send one or more of the following for receiver's muse to discover sender's muse... (or include a 🔄 for the reverse!)

😈 ...being tortured.

🩸 ...bleeding out.

🦴 ...with a visibly broken bone.

🪡 ...patching, stitching, or cauterizing their own wounds.

🩹 ...beaten and left to die.

😵 ...unconscious.

🪑 ...collapsed or unable to stand.

⚡ ...being electrocuted.

🔍 ...suddenly returned after having gone missing.

🍽️ ...dying of starvation.

🥤 ...dying of thirst.

🕳️ ...fallen into a deep pit, hole, or ravine.

⛰️ ...dangling from a ledge.

👐 ...being strangled.

🔪 ...stabbed.

🔫 ...shot.

🌊 ...drowning.

🚬 ...covered in cigarette burns.

🤕 ...covered in bruises.

🫗 ...poisoned.

🥃 ...drunk.

💊 ...drugged or overdosed.

🐴 ...whipped.

⭕ ...branded.

🐍 ...bitten or stung by a venomous creature.

🤧 ...severely ill.

😨 ...having a dangerous allergic reaction.

🤰 ...suddenly going into labor at a bad time.

🔇 ...mute from trauma, shock, or conditioning.

🧍‍♂️ ...paralyzed.

🙈 ...blinded.

❓ ...suffering from amnesia.

💥 ...caught in an explosion.

🔥 ...trapped in a fire.

❄️ ...suffering from hypothermia.

🥵 ...suffering severe heat stroke.

📸 ...being publicly humiliated.

🗣️ ...being verbally assaulted.

💪 ...being physically assaulted.

💋 ...being sexually assaulted.

🪢 ...bound and gagged.

⛓️ ...chained up.

‼️ ...forced into a stress position.

🐶 ...collared and kept like an animal.

⚠️ ...having a panic or anxiety attack.

👹 ...experiencing sleep paralysis.

🛌 ...having a nightmare or night terror.

👁️ ...severely sleep deprived.

🛞 ...unable to drive safely or at all.

🚙 ...struck by a car.

🛻 ...in a car accident.

🏚️ ...trapped beneath a collapsed structure.

💣 ...with a bomb strapped to their body.

🚨 ...arrested and taken to jail or prison.

🚑 ...rushed to the ER.

⚰️ ...buried alive.

💀 ...on the verge of death.

🪦 ...dead.

Feel free to change whatever you like to make the wording more specific for your muses or desired scenario!

[heylorrain]

Serpent's death of peace of mind.

[ 𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐮 𝐦𝐲 🐍 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 ] - MDNI 🔞 Strong language ⚠️

Previous Part 6 Next

“Do you-oou actually thiii-nnk you desss-sserve a place in thi-iss world, Omini-iss? You were conc–cceived by mere acc-ccident, a miss-sstake, a failll-llure in nattt-tture”.

... Mrs Gaunt appeared before them...

Her presence, commanding and regal, emerged from the shadows. She was draped in a flowing leather cloak that brushed the ground as she walked, and an intricate emerald serpent coiled around her neck like a symbol of power. The tip of her wand glinted menacingly as she pointed it directly at the young girl standing in her way.

"You will not besmirch our family legacy and bloodline by associating your filthy cunt with my son, Mudblood. He might be blind and useless, but he’s still a Gaunt." she bellowed, her words dripping with venom. Ominis was writhed on the ground in agony while some students scattered in fear from the scene. 

Sebastian quickly grabbed Garrett Weasley and urged him to fetch his aunt as fast as he could. This situation was spiraling out of control.

The girl paid no attention to Mrs Gaunt threats, ignoring her completely while she sprinted towards Ominis. Panic seized him as he heard his name coming from Lorra’s mouth, his eyes darting back and forth, realizing she was there. 

“SEBASTIAN!” Ominis cried. 

Sebastian's heart raced as he understood the assignment: with a burst of adrenaline, he bolted towards Lorrain who was just a few feet away from Ominis, grabbing her around the waist and yanking her away with all his might. They stumbled down to the floor, narrowly avoiding a dangerous fall down the stairs.

In that same moment, a curse was casted - CRUCIO - Sebastian covered Lorrain’s eyes while he saw the pain and torment in Ominis, his body contorting and convulsing in torture. His skin turned red-hot under the curse's cruel touch, and he felt every inch of his body burned with excruciating intensity.

As her own son writhed in torment, Mrs Gaunt stood coldly watching, not even bothered at all. 

Lorra’s voice pierced through the air, filled with terror and desperation. "SEBASTIAN LET GO OF ME!" She fought against his friend’s iron grip with every ounce of strength in her muscles. Bursting free, she leapt over Ominis, ignoring once again, his mother.

"How dare you.. it’s ridiculous to even conceive the thought of my disobedient son spending the night breeding someone like you… disgusting, truly. " Omini's mother snarled, her lips curling with disgust staring down at Lorrain. 

Lorra grabbed Ominis’ hand and put it against her chest as she leaned over him to protect him from any other cruel attempt of her mother to hurt him. She began to cry uncontrollably. She wanted to pass his pain into her own body. “Ominis, stay awake… stay with me please…I’m here.”

Channeling all her hate and fury, the woman flicked her wand once more and unleashed another torturous curse directly at the girl before she could even protest or defend herself. The air crackled with dark magic, Lorrain writhed in pain and her body contorted like if it was broken. This time, there was no mistaking the sheer malice behind the curse.

Sebastian sprinted towards Lorrain. He could see her writhing on the ground, tears streaming down her face as the curse marked her skin with what seemed to be a green lighting. 

"Please, Mrs. Gaunt-" Sebastian pleaded, trying to reason with Ominis's mother. But before he could finish, the woman's voice boomed, cutting off his words.

"KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT, SALLOW!"

“Incarcerous!!” Professor Weasley casted the spell at the blonde woman and metal strings wrapped her thin and pale wrists in an instant making her fall to the floor.

“Mrs Gaunt! You're not allowed to burst into Hogwarts like this and-” Professor Weasley stopped and saw the trio on the floor, the boys were on his knees next to Lorrain. She was starting to convulse and blood was cascading from her mouth.

“SALLOW, GAUNT TAKE MRS MORGANA TO THE HOSPITAL WING, NOW! ”She ordered. 

Sebastian's mind snapped back to reality, he scooped the girl up and raced towards the Nursery with desperation fuelling his every step, the blood began to stain their robes…the floor… the staircase…

Ominis tried to keep up, but he was hindered by the loss of his wand, which could be anywhere, for all he knew. Panic and frustration boiled within him as he sensed his friends disappear into the distance and the smell of blood punched his nose. 

A reassuring touch on his shoulder brought him back to focus.

Imelda placed his precious wand on his hand. They took off running side by side, the girl urging him to hurry, leaving behind all the scandal as aurors began to appear to take business into their own hands.

______ 🐍 _______

Lorrain writhed in misery on the hospital bed, her body twitching every two seconds. Ominis entered the room and immediately felt a wave of guilt. He could sense every excruciating detail of Lorrain's suffering.

"Ominis, we have to leave," Sebastian pleaded, putting himself before him, trying to shield his friend from the horrifying scene.

But the young Gaunt couldn't tear himself away from the girl's side. Every spasm, every twitch felt as his own, knowing it was all because of him.

"Sebastian, I can't-" Ominis started to say, but was cut off by the nurse calling for more help. Sallow and Gaunt rushed to their friend's side to assist her. 

Desperate to do something, anything, to help Lorra, Ominis began to talk to her in an anguished attempt to soothe her tortured body. He knew that his words might not actually reach her at all. The pain tormenting her body and mind was too much for her to handle. 

All of the sudden, her shaking stopped abruptly, her eyes flew open with a freighting brightness and an emerald green smoke billowed from her pupils, giving her an otherworldly appearance. 

"What's happening to her, Sebastian?" Ominis' demanded, his blind eyes searching for non existent answers.

Sebastian's gaze flickered between his friend and the green mist emanating from Lorra's eyes not knowing how or what to respond. 

"It seems she's- I have no idea wh-"

The girl sat up and began speaking in Parsel, her words directed at the blonde wizard, words filled with accusation and remorse.

"Look whh-aat you've do-nnne to my he-eeritage, Ominiss-ss," she spat. "Look whh-aat you've dd-oone to me..." 

“Lorra...love, what-”

“LL-Lorrain ii-isss lonn-ng gone, ch-chhild,” the girl spoke with an almost diabolic voice, hissing like a snake, arising from the bed and her eyes transformed into a deep, much darker green. She was channeling an otherworldly dark power that made the boys tremble. They gasped in fear as her transformation continued, her once innocent face now twisted into a menacing expression, her limbs breaking one by one..

Ominis's wand captured every “crack” on her bones until the point of sensing the girl's non-existent pulse, she had literally no heart beat at all. She busted out laughing, noticing the blind wizard acknowledgement. Nothing was making any sense. 

“Do you-oou actually thiii-nnk you desss-sserve a place in thi-iss world, Omini-iss? You were conc–cceived by mere acc-ccident, a miss-sstake, a failll-llure in nattt-tture,” the girl sneered, hissing like a snake.

Her cackling laughter echoed through the room as she humiliated him further.

“Youu-uu don't evv-een know how to uss-sse your own ccc-oock, he. he. he. Your patt-tthetic excuse for a wizzz-zard would diss-ssgust anyon-nne. ” Her sudden hate oozed from every pore. 

Then Sebastian joined in with his own cruel laughter, matching the girl's energy. 

“I almost feel sorry for you, Ominis, But not quite. You're nothing but a pity-inducing malfunction of the Wizarding World. And you were saying you fucked her? You can’t even walk in a straight line without needing assistance"

His words slice through Ominis like a poisonous thorn, leaving behind only a deep sense of worthlessness and shame.

He felt like he was drowning in his own terror. The Pandora's box was opened. Every nerve in his body was on fire, his senses heightened to the point of overloading. He dropped his wand and covered his ears, kneeling, his mind racing in a manic frenzy, trying to make sense of the horrifying sounds still burning into his brain.

______ 🐍 _______

Ominis jolted awake on his bedroom’s floor, drenched in sweat and tears, his screams echoing through the room. His silver pajamas clinged to his trembling pale body. He could still feel the phantom hands of his nightmare, gripping at his throat, suffocating him. Sallow and Morgana were kneeling next to him, their words were mere whispers against the roar of panic in his mind.

Lorra’s voice finally pierced through the darkness of his mind, pulling him out of the just awoken nightmare. His chest heaved with rapid breaths as he struggled to come back to reality. 

"Tell me," she demanded again, her words cutting through his disorientation, "What's your favorite color?" 

A long pause filled the silence.Ominis tried to form a coherent response, but his thoughts were scattered and his tongue felt thick in his mouth. 

"My... favorite..?." he stammered in confusion. 

"Is it Red? Green? Or Purple?" Sebastian asked calmly, taking his friend’s hand and placing it on his freckled chest while he inhaled and exhaled slower than normal. 

"It's... It's…pur.. purple?..." 

After some time had passed, he could feel his mind calming down, the distracting questions and the feeling of a calm breathing provided him a temporary respite from the pain and terror. Despite his efforts to go back and concentrate on what his nightmare ment, the questions kept coming, each one more distracting than the last. He took a deep breath and signed when he had finally calmed down. 

"Nice teamwork" Sebastian praised Lorrain. She just smiled. 

Ominis desperately tried to explain his dream, his words became a garbled mess, tumbling over each other incoherently. He could feel himself losing control again, slipping back into the darkness that plagued him.

Lorra grabbed his face with both hands. Her touch washed over him like a soothing balm, quelling his fire within. 

"Gaunt, you had a nightmare." her voice echoed in his ears. "I'm here, Ominis. I'm alive. And so is Sebastian. Nothing bad has happened to us nor you. We are not going anywhere. Whatever happened, it’s not true. You’re safe. " she reassured him with a kiss in the corner of his mouth.

Tears rolled down Ominis's face as he clutched onto Lorra, desperate to hold onto something tangible. Slowly, the fog in his mind disappeared for good. 

"You... You're really you." Ominis choked out between heavy breaths, his grip on Lorra’s and Sebastian’s hands tightening as if afraid they would disappear at any moment. Sebastian patted his friend on the back a few times, then stood up and went to lock the bedroom’s door. 

With trembling fingers, Ominis traced Lorra’s arms, then her shoulders, then her face, drinking in every reassuring detail. 

" Stay ". 

He nervously tried to stand up from the floor, but Lorra's unmoving figure stopped him. Unsure of what to do next, he sat back down and was suddenly surrounded by the sound of sheets and pillows being arranged around him.

Feeling guided by an unseen force, Ominis found himself lying down between his friends, next to the warm heater, The sound of the waves from the Black Lake against the windows made a harmonic thrumming to his ears. To his left, Sebastian was as stoic as always, and to his right, Lorra. He finally curled up in the middle, feeling hugged and accompanied. In that moment, they were more than just friends - they were a fortress protecting him from the darkness and loneliness that threatened to consume him.

“You’re here, Ominis…”

“...Safe, with us”

And just like that, they finally felt asleep.

Notes

👉 It was very hard for me to actually find the words for the part where Lorra humiliates Ominis... so sad :(

👉 When someone has a panic attack you can help them by asking them questions ( really easy ones ) and putting their hands on your chest and breath normally. That has always helped me! 🫰✨

[aethon-recs]

Hi! First I wanted to say: Thank you for all your hard work these these fic recommendations <3 There has been many I did not know of till you have shared them! So thank you so much!

Okay for the ask: Do you have any recommendations for creature fics for the tomarrymort boys? It can feature either or both of them being non-human. Thank you again for all your hard work, and I love seeing you on my dash!

Hi anon — thanks for your kind words. I’m really glad to hear there were a lot of fics rec'ed that you haven’t come across yet, that totally made my week!

In terms of creature fic recs, there’s quite a good number of them, so I will separate by category and will try to keep the descriptions short. Enjoy!

*

Tomarrymort Recs – Creature Fics 

🐍 Naga / Snake

A Rather Useless Inheritance by Blood_Stained_Fingers (T, 28k, complete)

Harry comes into his Parseltongue inheritance. It’s rather less useful than he expected.

Renanthera by @zarasu (E, 6k, complete)

To brew a potion that could give someone the ability to talk to snakes, Harry would first need to find a bit of Basilisk blood. He stumbles on a powerful Naga instead.

Venom by @katsitting (M, 9k, complete)

Naga Voldemort lures Harry into her trap and has her way with him.

Venomous by @crowcrowcrowthing (E, 4k, complete)

Sirius Black should know better than to set a Naga loose in a room full of people. Harry is the only one who happens to survive the Naga’s murder spree.

Viceroy by @vestiges-of-light (E, 7k, complete)

Harry will marry Voldemort to end the war. Harry also takes a potion that turns him into a Naga every night. This is hardly a problem for Voldemort.

worship at your altar by anon (E, 3k, complete)

Harry finds himself drawn to an old altar in the woods dedicated to the ancient Naga god Voldemort.

🩸 Vampire 

Blood in the wine by @girl-with-goats (E, 31k, complete)

Tom Riddle achieves immortality by the means of vampirism. Enter young copper Harry Potter, fresh recruit from Scotland Yard, sent to investigate the mysterious disappearances of all the young men who uncannily look like him.

chiaroscuro by @cindle-writes (E, 7k, complete)

Immortal children are illegal. Harry makes one anyway.

effervescent by @duplicitywrites (M, 5k, WIP)

Sometimes a relationship is you (ie, Voldemort), the vampire brat you made (Tom), and his human blood bag boyfriend (Harry).

Family Dynamics by RenderedReversed (T, 1k, complete)

In which Harry is a dragon for hire, Voldemort is a vampire who is probably plotting world domination, Tom is a vampire hunter with a one-track mind, and they all live under the same roof.

found you sleeping in my coffin by @orangemoustache (M, 6k, complete)

Harry gets turned into a vampire. For better or worse, Tom is there to help.

Hinnom by rightonthelimit (E, 7k, complete)

Harry is a member of an ancient vampire Pureblood family. To be even seen with a Spawn is punished with death. But he can’t help falling in love with Tom.

Hypnotic Kind of Dance by @acciotomriddle (E, 2k, complete)

In a club where humans willingly offer themselves to vampires in exchange for the high that comes from a bite, Harry meets an incredibly charming vampire named Tom.

Matriphagy by @being-luminous  (M, 2k, complete)

For years now, Lord Voldemort has hunted Harry and his parents. First because of a prophecy, then… Then, for something else. 

Not a Single Bite by @vdoshu (M, 2k, complete)

They’ve been at the restaurant for an hour and a half, but Harry hasn’t eaten a single bite. Tom is beginning to think that maybe their date isn’t going so well.

Scent of Death by @dividawrites (E, 3k, complete)

Voldemort discovers a new, submissive side of himself when he feels Harry's teeth on his neck.

the little death by @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger (E, 2k, complete)

"You brought a vampire into my study?" Voldemort asks, more tired than offended. 

The Resurrectionist by @bluesundaycake (E, 12k, complete)

Tom (vampire) runs a nighttime coffee shop, and Harry (sleep-deprived human) is a regular customer and Tom thinks he is a vampire.

🧜‍♀️ Mermaid / Siren 

Call of the Deep by @hikarimeroperiddle (E, 17k, complete)

Harry is a captain of a pirate crew. A dangerous siren that lurks in the deep seems to have set its eyes on Harry himself.

liquid luck by @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger (E, 12k, complete)

Harry is a mermaid who happens upon sea monster Voldemort, who has nefarious plans for her.

Siren Song by The_Fictionist (NR, 11k, complete)

Tom is a siren. He offers Harry a deal. "I'll help you out, and you get ten years to live on the surface. Then you're mine."

Undertow by @katsitting (M, 10k, complete)

Harry is a pirate. Voldemort is a siren that lures him in. “Harry. Come to me.”

we may sink and settle on the waves by @greenbriars (M, 22k, complete)

A retelling of The Little Mermaid, wherein Harry is Prince Eric, and Tom vies with Ginny for Harry’s affection.

🐺 Werewolf

the first full moon (part 1) / midnight snack (part 2) by @greenbriars (E, 4k, complete)

It's Harry's first full moon since he started dating a vampire.

🌟 Veela

Love at First Sight by @dividawrites (E, 5k, complete)

Voldemort rises from the cauldron with two dicks and a newfound Veela inheritance. Harry is mesmerized.

*

[5eraphim]

ok sooooooo, i have no idea a plot for this, but i am BEGGING for a threeway with vampire engie and vampire spy, they are my faves and i really like how you write them, and yeah the smut here is ELITE i had the prompt "you'll do what i ask, I know you will" but i'll take anything with these two 😭

I know exactly how you feel! I feel like my personal list of faves is always shuffling, but these two STAY top tier ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა

Also like, I have so much respect and love for you to just jam them together in a request and stuff it into my inbox like two little paper dolls and, ok- that sounds like i'm being sarcastic, but I'm really not! I love requests that are like, "i love (x) so much, can I please see him doing something crazy" anyhow- thank you so, so much for the request, I hope you enjoy!

Here is a link to the Dub-con prompts!

here is a link to Vampire Engie's drabble

here is Spy's Vampire drabble

(You don't need to read both drabbles to understand this, but here a few notes about my vampire AU: Engie is the most recently turned vampire and isn't able to control himself well, and tries his hardest to maintain his humanity. Spy has been a vampire the longest and has masterful control over his vampiric hunger, as well possessing supernatural gifts for psychological manipulation (illusions and compulsion).)

Title: The Chateau

Characters: The Engineer 🦫 and The Spy 🐍 (Team Fortress 2)

Rating: X (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, GO PLAY OUTSIDE)

Content Warnings: dubcon, Dark! characterization, corruption kink, sexual venom, three-way, hostage situation, coercion, blood drinking, degradation, implied bad ending, AFAB reader/female pronouns and terms used, reader is a masochist, Spy is a massive jerk and bullies Engie and reader

Word Count: 7.4k

MASTER LIST

TIP JAR

"He licked my blood off his fingers. He loves me, I thought. He completely and totally loves me."

Engie was a monster. Not born a monster, but now an ex-human cursed to drink blood and prowl the night to sustain himself eternally. It was a cruel fate, but not one demanding the slaughter of innocent humans to live. Engie assured himself so long as he kept to drinking the blood of animals, not using his newfound immortality for evil or supernatural wiles to otherwise cause harm, he could still, in good faith, call himself a "good man." As if Engie could use his vampiric abilities even if he wanted to, Engie was content pretending they didn't exist, another minuscule way to make himself feel human.

Perhaps most humans would disagree with him, but when there were so many other vampires crawling about at night, ready to sink their teeth into any living body that crossed their path, Engie could be content with this. In life, he was an engineer and a farmhand and had pastures of cattle to siphon from in death. He believed this would be enough to get by with as long as he had to live on like this.

But the temptation was always there. The hunger and thirst were relentless, but no pain was worth sacrificing his humanity. Or so he told himself. But no one, supernatural or mortal, could survive on willpower alone forever. And every night, Engie could feel that terrible thirst to drink from a living human coming back stronger and stronger, no matter how much he drank from his livestock, it simply wasn't enough anymore to get by on, and it wasn't long 'till he reached his breaking point. 

The timing was almost too perfect. An invitation from an alleged "charitable benefactor with mutual acquaintances" invited Engie for the meal of his life at his chateau, all free of charge. The invitation from a vampire who called himself "Spy," someone Engie had never met himself, though he knew from being mentioned by mutual friends, claiming he owed a favor to their shared friend and would be honored for the chance to host Engie's first proper feeding. It was all too remarkably convenient. Engie was sure there was a catch in all this somewhere. But after mulling the decision over for a few hours, he found himself at the address provided in the letter that night.

The hunger was particularly aggressive that night. He'd been isolated at his ranch for so long the noise and excitement of the city at night was nearly too much to endure. When he arrived, the moment the front door opened, Engie couldn't help but get a head rush, catching the aroma of the house from the outside. There was blood in there; it was fresh and human, and by God, did he want it more than anything. 

Upon meeting Spy, Engie found himself just as distrusting and suspicious of the vampire as his first intuition warned him to be, though he reckoned it was too late to turn back now. The only thing he could do now was follow the older vampire as he led him deeper into his estate.

The chateau was massive, opulent, nothing less than an architectural masterpiece, but hardly inviting. The inside was equally as posh as the exterior, adorned with furniture that appeared far too ornate to get comfortable in and massive portraits with eyes that followed Engie as he strode down the corridors a few paces behind Spy. Nearly all the doors were closed and presumably locked. Spy led his guest swiftly down halls and upstairs, knowing the layout of his grand estate like the back of his hand. 

Neither of the vampires bothered with small talk during the route, which Engie was grateful for. From his first impression of the man, Engie could tell Spy was distinguished and curt- he'd never bother small-talking with some peasant like Engie. 

Despite Engie knowing he and Spy were both vampires, there was some unspeakable, insurmountable difference between the two of them Engie couldn't ignore. While Engie meandered, hesitantly and blindly following the aroma of blood, trying his hardest to remain composed in front of his host, Spy managed to stride with grace and assuredness to his prey. Whatever reservations and lingering humanity Spy might've once held onto was long gone now. And Engie shuddered to imagine himself succumbing to the same fate, should he remain a vampire as long as Spy had. 

At last, Spy led Engie to a door, hidden far away in a quiet corner absolved of nearly all light, where Spy paused to pull a key from his pocket to unlock the door. While Engie could smell fresh blood nearby, mouth-wateringly close, he couldn't help but be slightly surprised and spoke quietly, more to himself than Spy, "You keep your prime blood supply hidden away like this?"

Spy looked down at Engie, unable to mask his smugness, "All for security, of course. I can't risk just anyone trying to get in here."

Engie nodded, "I see."

Spy's smile tightened briefly, "You're a privileged man to indulge in such a luxury. I hope you understand that."

Before Engie could respond, he heard the door's lock yield, and an intense waft of fresh blood overwhelmed him as the door was opened. At last, the final barrier between Engie and tantalizing human blood was gone, and he could feel his entire body buzzing with eagerness. Engie's eyes drifted shut as he inhaled deeply through his nose, swallowing the saliva that filled his mouth. The hunger which plagued Engie for months now, at last so nearly satisfied, the sensation as painful as it was pleasurable. He could practically feel his stomach gurgling and his toes curling in his boots as he opened his eyes to the sight before him.

The humble exterior gravely betrayed the interior in extravagance and size, as the room was easily twice as large as the shadowy door inclined him to believe. As Engie stepped inside, he felt the air rushing from his lungs, inhaling the scent of blood accented by the rosey aroma of candles burning, the only lighting in the room, as with the rest of the house, there were no windows. Drawing into the room, he felt like he was stepping into a scene straight out of a fairytale, the space before him adorned with riches he couldn't even imagine. Bookshelves with thick leather-bound novels, a crystal vanity, fur rugs plush deep enough to sink your ankles into, a record player humming softly in the corner, and countless glittering trinkets scattered about. As though every status symbol imaginable were compiled tastefully in the room, styled to perfection by the master of the house.

But despite all the room's ornate decorum, the real showstopper was the massive bed. It was constructed to look like a white swan, its graceful neck and chest curved at the foot of the oval-shaped mattress, with little obsidian gems in place of the swan's eyes, catching the flickering light of the candles. The sides of the bed were cradled by immaculately carved white wings with cream-colored feathers. And at the head of the bed, a lushly padded backboard stretched over halfway up the wall, curved in a lovely shell-like arc overhead serving as the swan's tail. How long it must take to precisely set the bed was beyond Engie, but despite the lavishness of the bed, his full attention was on the warm body in the center of the bed where you lay, surrounded by silky white pillows, laying atop the bed's single sheet.

The moment his eyes landed on you, the vampire found himself mesmerized. Despite appearing dwarfed by the massive bed around you, he was acutely aware of the hot blood running through your veins, the beating of your heart calling out to him like a siren's song. Clad in nothing but a sheer thin-strapped white nightgown, the hem's just barely grazing your knees. The fabric shone hypnotically, entrancingly on the room's low lighting, and was thin enough to give him a peek at the soft skin underneath. Despite how flimsy the nightie was, Engie noted that your neck, shoulders, and chest were kept temptingly bare. It's a bed fit for a queen, alright, but not one you were allowed to leave. He thought to himself.

Spy waited for Engie to fully enter the room before locking the door behind him. Casually, he made his way to the far side of the bed, shedding his blazer and hanging it on the chair beside the bed as he regarded your motionless body, gently caressing the side of your cheek with his knuckle. The eerie, almost surreal sight before him made Engie hesitate, despite his torturous desire, "But why me? Why give a stranger something so… extraordinary?"

"A stranger? You are my guest, are you not? What host would I be if I didn't provide top-quality provisions for my guests?" Spy spoke, petting at the top of your head, almost crooning. Engie could see how uncomfortable you were, laying on your back with your hands clasped over your chest in bed, starting over ahead, appearing frightfully similar to a corpse in a casket. Or like a taxidermied deer, slain, stuffed, and posed just so by another with no bodily autonomy of your own. Seeing you lying there, looking more lifeless than the undead men in the room, was unnerving.

Engie didn't have to look twice to know you'd been in this position before. He didn't draw too far into the room, not wanting to get too close to the bed, still unsure if he could fully trust Spy yet.

Engie pursed his lips together. He didn't want to believe a thing this shifty man had to say, but he had to admit, the blood running through your veins was calling his name. Spy continued in his comfortably haughty manner, "You really should be thanking me. Do you have any idea how many lowlife, street vampires would kill for the chance for a real meal, let alone one so well-cultivated?" As Spy spoke, he didn't look away from Engie, but his hands kept in motion. Going from petting the top of your head to using his fingers to tousle your hair. His other hand on your shoulder began to tug suggestively at the nightgown's strap, giving Engie a little peek at the warm human skin hardly concealed beneath the sheer fabric. The erotic display is almost enough to make him forget about the Frenchman indirectly calling him low class. 

Engie observed the two of you, trying to pick up on any discomfort or agitation from you, but whatever Spy had done to you before now conditioned you well. Training you to keep docile, still, and well-behaved around Spy's company. You didn't try to struggle away or fight back when Spy's hand moved from your hair to the side of your cheek, pulling off his gloves and setting them by his jacket before using the side of his thumb to caress your skin.

Unsure of what to say next, Engie stepped forward, eyes locked on the exposed flesh of your neck, the expanse of space growing as Spy continued pulling down on the nightgown strap until it entirely slipped from your shoulder. He was so close now. It was like he could taste all the hot blood running through your veins on the tip of his tongue.

Engie's eyes focus on Spy's thin, slightly bony hand on his body before looking up at his face, "You don't want- You're not gonna make me kill her, are you?"

Spy's eye twitched as he forced himself to maintain his smile, briefly failing to completely hide his annoyance with Engie's continued hesitation. That pesky lingering humanity would be trickier to drive out than Spy thought. Nevertheless, he wasn't about to give up. There was nothing Spy loved more than a challenge, getting inside someone's head and finding out exactly how to push them to their breaking point. To bring out people's deeper, darker, more bestial nature.

"No need to worry about this one. She's done this all before. She's been trained exceptionally well to withstand the pain of feeding." Spy could tell Engie's hesitation and resolve were crumbling by the second. With more confidence, he continued, "But if you would rather go back to your little backwater ranch to suckle cattle for the rest of your afterlife, I suppose I can't stop you."

It hurt to hear, but Spy was right. Engie was sick to death of drinking the blood of animals. Sure, it stopped the thirst, but it never satisfied. He could drain a cow of all its blood. It was nothing compared to just a few drops of human blood, especially when complimented delectably by a bit of human adrenaline and fear. 

Despite your ability to keep the fear from showing on your face, Engie was well aware of how your heart raced as Spy forced you to remain passive. Engie knew at that moment he could refuse himself the indulgence no longer. 

Drawing in a shaking breath, Engie resigned. "I'll drink, but only one bite." 

Spy nodded politely, a smirk of satisfaction spreading across his face. "An excellent decision."

Hearing the satisfaction in Spy's voice was nearly enough to convince Engie to back out of the deal then and there, but as much as he hated to admit it, Spy was absolutely right: Engie would be insane not to accept a free meal of such high quality. He drew just a bit closer until his shins brushed against the side of the bed opposite Spy, wrapping his hand around your wrist, his mouth already watering at the thought of a quick bite, getting to feel your pulse against his lips and tongue when Spy intervened, placing a hand over Engie's halting his movement.

Engie looked at Spy, confused, as he let go of Engie's hand before sitting up from the side of the bed. With a dry chuckle, Spy spoke, "You classless hick-laborers are all the same, always in such a rush. Not tonight. You're going to learn to take your time."

Spy produced a gold switchback knife from his pocket. The blade was small but glistened gorgeously in the low lighting, and even from across the bed, Engie knew it was exceptionally well crafted.

"Seems like an awful lot of trouble for just one bite…" 

Spy had to bite his tongue to keep himself from saying something derogatory. It would be too easy to deride the Texan again for not knowing proper feeding etiquette. However, he resisted the temptation, not wanting to risk spoiling Engie's meal before it even started. As little as he cared for Engie, he'd promised them to show him the true value of human blood. Spy was a man of his word. Instead, he turned his inner frustrations to you, leaning his head to meet your eye, holding the side of your neck, forcing you to look straight at him, hissing directly into your ear, "Give him a taste. He is my guest. You will treat him as such." 

Despite no actual threat in his words, the coldness of his voice and pointed tone warned you of what might happen if you were to try and disobey. His lips twisting upwards into a sinister imitation of a smile, he added, "You'll do what I say. I know you will."

Nodding, you tried your hardest to still your trembling hands as you accepted the gold blade from your lord before handing it to the other man beside you. Engie looked at you with pity, and you wondered if you looked as pathetic as you felt. It wasn't the first time Spy called on you to entertain company. Honestly, he was apt to pick on you specifically, volunteering your blood for his guests to taste. Spy spoke so highly of how you tasted, praising you and all you had to offer, but outside of feeding sessions, Spy was nothing but cold and controlling, and you knew you'd never be anything more than food to him. No matter how often you were in this situation, Spy never once warmed up to you, and no matter how much blood you gave, he was never satisfied. 

Gritting your teeth, you clenched your fist and turned the arm facing Engie palm side up. Watching as he positioned the razor-sharp blade against the thin skin beneath the bend of your elbow, he held the tip here momentarily before swiping your flesh with the knife just deep enough to break the skin. The blade was wickedly sharp and didn't hurt at all. Spy saw to it his guests were given nothing but the finest dining wear when feeding at his estate. And it wasn't long until a few shiny little beads of blood formed along the slit. Using the knife's blade, he scraped along the cut, collecting some fresh blood on the edge before bringing it to his face to inspect.

Engie was hypnotized by his appetite and thirst igniting at the sight of the fresh blood. While Spy kept his attention focused on you. Spy's thumb slid along the lips of the cut, collecting a few red beads of blood prickling at the cut's surface before using his tongue to swipe his finger clean. It was disheartening to feel a familiar sense of grief as you waited for your lord and his guest to settle down to feed from you as he'd done time and time before. The familiarity did nothing to quell your unease. You'd suffer so many "meals" with Spy, and they never got easier as time passed. Now that there was another to feed, you could do nothing but expect the worst. 

Spy watched with satisfaction as Engie lingered momentarily to smell the tiny smear of blood on the knife's tip. He could practically see the other man's mouth water from where he sat. The moment Engie's mouth made contact with your blood, he was almost suckling from the blade, the taste every bit as rich and satisfying as he'd hoped. The rich flavor and subtle undertones of fear made Engie moan out loud as he was lost in his internal bliss. 

But just as soon as it started, it was all over, leaving Engie with nothing but the feeling of a cold knife coated in his own drool in his mouth. Letting out a shaky breath, Engie lowered the blade, his eyes a bit darker now, hungrier and more predatory, making you wonder which vampire you genuinely feared more at the moment.

Spy too, picked up on Engie's inhibitions, vanishing near-instantly, smirking a little to himself, trying not to sound too condescending. "Care for another taste, my friend?"

After sucking his own thumb clean, Spy turned his fangs to you, leaning over from across the bed to kiss the wound, his lips pressing against the warm, slightly stinging cut before opening his mouth enough to allow his teeth to graze over your skin, enjoying the familiar warmth of blood rushing beneath the skin as he muttered, "good girl" against your skin. He'd need to hold back a little if he wanted to be a good host tonight. It wouldn't be easy and hardly his style, but he knew he could do it if it was just for one night. 

Engie nodded and was about to return his attention to the already formed cut on your arm, but Spy continued, sliding from his position at your side on the bed, moving down to sitting at your feet, leaving the space behind your head empty. 

Spy patted at the space he shifted from, motioning for Engie to move into place there, "Go for the neck next."

He didn't need any further invitation as he encroached closer. "So much for just one bite," you thought miserably. While the sample of your blood whet his appetite, he knew it paled compared to how you would taste while feeding from the flesh. As though the starved vampire needed any further incentive. 

Engie didn't want to hurt you, but his good intentions were effectively silenced by his hunger. His eyes were glued on your neck and clavicle and the bare part of your chest uncovered by the flimsy nightgown as he crawled into bed, sliding behind you as you allowed him to prop you up and adjust you to his liking until you were comfortably within his hold. For someone who claimed to be so staunchly against consuming human blood, you couldn't help but notice how he perfectly found the spots vampires used to grip onto when feeding from their victims, his mouth aligning exactly where you'd felt the awful pain of a vampire's bite several times before. 

Even before Engie bit down, you knew this was gonna hurt. No matter how hesitant a first-time feeder was, they were helpless to control their hunger. The more experienced could make even the deepest bites pleasurable for both the host and vampire, but that took years of practice and not from feeding on animals.

Finally, after he couldn't wait another moment, Engie took his first bite in earnest. He was decisive, targeting a weak point on your neck, drawing upon all those nights of hunger to give him the strength to make the first bite count. On instinct- you pulled away, no matter how many times you'd been fed upon, you couldn't conquer the primal human instinct to flinch and try to protect yourself. Though, just as your instincts told you to pull away, Engie told him to tighten his grip, his arm wrapped around your waist tightened so harshly, you felt the air squeezed from your lungs. His fingers pressed harder on the bottom of your jaw and cheek, forcing you to stay put. 

It hurt. It always hurt. But to your surprise, it was far from the worst pain you'd felt during a feeding. Some vampires you'd fed were sadistic, doing everything they could to make you scared and in agony, as it made the blood taste best. Still, you could tell Engie was too hungry to care about heightening your fear or anything other than quenching that awful thirst that had tormented him for months.

For a split second, you ease your tension, releasing a breath you didn't realize you were holding, slacking enough to stop pulling away from Engie. He moaned loudly to himself between full-mouthed gulps of hot blood. You had no idea how much he'd taken, but you could tell he was drinking fast and couldn't help but let your mind dull and let the early light-headedness dampen your senses and let your mind begin to drift off. That was until you felt a sharp prick against your thigh. Spy was still on the bed, sitting by your legs, knife still in hand, the intimidating look on his face snapping you right back to reality. 

"Don't get too comfortable. And don't forget you're feeding two tonight." His voice was hushed; it was almost hard to hear over the messy swallowing of the vampire feeding right by your ear, but you got the message. If you were smart, you would close your eyes and allow the vampires to feast without struggle. Maybe you'd even get lucky and pass out and sleep through the feeding session, but for some reason, you couldn't take your eyes off Spy. 

As much as you despised him, you were equally captivated. Using the tip of the knife to push the nightie's hem up to your upper thigh, he dug the tip in harder, little by little the higher he went. Just the light pressure had you on edge all over again- Spy always somehow knew how to keep you like this, afraid of his next move, even without using excessive force. Knowing just how to paralyze you with fear while hardly breaking the skin. Partially on account of his supernaturally charged abilities, partially on account of his general disposition.

Watching Spy nimbly tracing his knife over your bare flesh made you shudder, unconsciously pressing yourself closer to Engie to try and distance yourself from Spy. Engie could feel your trembling body pressing against his, but his mind was still blank with ecstasy as he feasted, one hand fisting your hair, the other hugging your torso against his stocky body protectively. 

Around this time, your head typically started throbbing. Engie had slowed down slightly, but the blood loss was slowly catching up with you. Your head started to feel heavy, but you were too scared to close your eyes.

Engie paused, feasting for a moment as he felt something wet trickling down your cheek distracting him. To finally get a good look at what he'd done to you, to see the color drained from your lips and cheeks, the cold sweat clinging to your brow, though most noticeably the dark circles under your eyes which accentuated your fear beautifully. He'd almost forgotten about the other man in the room and fully believed himself responsible for your state.

"You look so scared, you're shaking… My God, you're so beautiful when you're scared." Engie, as though forgetting all about the messy smear of blood clinging to his chin, running down his neck, pressed his lips to the side of your slightly cold lips, moaning against you as though too shy to go in for a full kiss, despite sucking the life out of your neck only seconds ago. 

"Your fear- it tastes so good!" For a moment he continued to nuzzle his face against yours with an almost child-like affection while you forced yourself not to flinch at the feeling of your own blood smearing across your face.

"You've tasted fear, laborer- but perhaps you'd like to taste a bit of pleasure as well?" Without warning, Spy gripped the bottom hem of your nightgown, the knife against your thigh flicked upward, slicing a long slit in the sheer fabric up to your bottom ribs with a soft tearing sound. While Spy originally intended to preserve the gown, Engie's sloppy eating stained the collar and bodice beyond repair. Watching other vampires ruin his valuables with slovenly carelessness usually infuriated Spy, but for some reason, he found great pleasure in watching the fledgling vampire feed. Watching his humanity slowly drain while his vampiric venom began to take control of his mind. 

All vampires could produce venom when feeding, an ancient ability vampires used during primal times to keep victims still and compliant during a feast. The poison, released through a gland in the mouth by the vampire's teeth, entered the victim's body once bitten, causing heightened light-headedness and disorientation. The toxin would also affect the vampire as it was ingested while eating, making them feel hungrier, lowering inhibitions, and sexually charged. Spy knew Engie likely never truly felt enough excitement while feeding to produce his own venom, and he had to admit, watching Engie experience this for the first time pleased him immensely.

Nothing was more arousing to Spy than control, and the scene unfolding before him was like a fantasy brought to life- the fledgling losing his mind, letting his monstrous impulses take over while his lovely little captive mortal could do nothing but take the abuse, your human heart pumping more and more hot blood just for them. You and Engie were losing battles against animalistic impulses while Spy remained stone-faced and in total control.

Engie froze up at the sight of your now-bare skin, just now realizing you weren't wearing anything beneath the dress. Spy's hand crept higher, from hip to waist, dragging his sharp nails over vulnerable skin, giving you goosebumps. Engie lifted his arm from around your chest to secure both hands on your shoulders to keep you from swimming too much.

Spy had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing out loud at the look on Engie's face, practically sweating with arousal, no doubt mind going blank on account of the fresh venom in his system. He folded the knife, putting it back in his pocket, before using both hands to pull the sides of the slit he made, tearing the poor dress in two. Engie moved his hands just enough to allow the dress to fall off your shoulders as he pulled the tattered remains of the dress from your body.

Spy settled between your legs, your upper body relaxing against Engie's, trying to ignore the way you could hear the sloshing of your own blood in his belly whenever he moved. While Engie removed your dress, Spy undid his button-down shirt, discarding it, hanging it by his blazer, but keeping his dress pants and belt on. 

Spy sat back on his haunches, watching Engie feeling up your bare skin with an amusement that bordered on giddiness. "You know, laborer, it's ironic you were so concerned about hurting her. Would you like to know why?" His voice is low and sharp, speaking with the confidence of someone who knows they're entirely in control of everyone else in the room.

Engie nodded, unable to take his eyes off Spy as he crawled closer, watching him grip both your thighs in his hands, fingers digging into the skin. "Let me tell you a secret about her, something she'd never dare tell anyone- but one so obvious to men like me."

Without warning, Spy dug his thumbnails harshly into your inner thighs, making you yelp. Arching your back, pushed closer to Engie while Spy kept your legs locked in place. 

"She likes it rough. She wants you to hurt her. Getting rough turns her on- she'll act obedient and innocent but under that sweet face. She's nothing but a whore."

Your eyes went wide and you shook your head, trying to crane your neck enough to look back at Engie, to beg him not to listen to him, but given your position it was impossible to see his face, still you begged. "N-no, no! It's not true! I'm not like that!" 

Your heart sank as Engie replied, "You sure about that, sweets?" 

You were about to try and twist around to beg again when Spy harshly tugged your legs, forcing them to stay straight and parted, "Sit still, or I'll make you wish you had."

He kept his eyes on you as he lowered his head to take his first real bite of the night on your thigh, making your chest feel fluttery. You couldn't tell if he was using his hypnosis to turn you on or not, but whatever he was doing was working. "Was it always this way- or is it just with him?" You wondered, screwing your eyes shut as you felt Engie's hands move to cover your tits, groping them with both hands, stroking with his thumb while Spy continued to drink.

Satisfied with his first bite, Spy began to move further up your legs, kissing and biting your thighs, scraping sharp teeth against soft flesh, making you shiver, tense up, and clench around nothing.

Spy was so maddeningly close, within breathing distance, but still moving too slowly. You could feel your blood rushing south as Spy began to trace his thumb along the slit of your sex, feeling it throb for him, leaking slightly, silently begging for more. He teased his fingers there a moment longer before addressing Engie, "Give me your hand."

Wordlessly, the younger vampire complied, unlatching from one breast to Spy, who guided it between your legs. You keened as Engie allowed Spy to push his fingers into you. Despite how you writhed, there was nowhere to go, and you were forced to endure the feeling of Engie's fingers curiously prodding the hot and throbbing bundle of nerves between your legs.

"Now taste it," Spy commanded, to which Engie happily obliged, inhaling the smell of your slick coating his fingers before sucking them clean, his eyes rolling back at the taste. While Engie was distracted, Spy continued to bite and drink from your inner thighs, staying dangerously close to your sex but refusing to give you the attention you needed. Spy drank much neater than other vampires, keeping his bites small and quiet and not allowing any precious blood to go to waste. 

Swallowing your nerves, you tried to beg Engie for mercy in a whisper one last time, foolishly thinking Spy was too focused on feeding to notice. "Sir, aren't you satisfied yet? Are you ready to go now- pl-"

You were cut off by a particularly harsh bite from Spy, making your entire body go rigid and your heart race as you looked down and saw the fury on Spy's face, "How dare you- don't you ever talk to my guests like that."

Spy slapped the top of your thigh, making the bite wounds sting painfully. For a brief moment, Engie had a moment of clarity. He knew you were no doubt at your limit, and it wasn't right for him to drink more, not after you'd endured the hunger of himself and Spy. But unfortunately, morality was no match for instincts, and he smiled wickedly at the helpless look on your face as he began to run his hands up and down your sides, feeling up the curves of your body.

"Aw, don't be such a harsh spook. I know she didn't mean it. But what do you say you give me a turn down there between her legs?"

A satisfied look settled on Spy's face as he nodded, "Be my guest."

Engie grunted as he moved out from behind you unsteadily and with great effort. His stomach had begun to bloat while eating, making his belt feel uncomfortably tight, and the curve of his stomach slightly strain against his overalls. Spy snickered as he crept silently from between your legs to sitting beside you on the side of his hip, hardly affected by all he had to drink.

"You're alright for more?" Engie's eyes were wild and excited. Whatever lingering humanity he clung to wouldn't be enough to save you. His shoulders rose and dropped with his bull-like, ragged breathing. 

This isn't right… You thought to yourself as you listened to Engie clumsily undoing his belt, popping the buttons on his overalls as he dropped them to his ankles with his boxers. You were vaguely aware of the sound of his relief freeing his cock from the stiff and heavy denim, and the next thing you knew, he was back on top. You wanted to tell him to stop, to beg him to get off, but you were too drained to do much more than whimper beneath him as he crawled on top of you, caging you down, wasting no time positioning himself between your legs. While you were wet from before, it would do little to make this any more pleasurable for you. But you were too weak to speak. Your tongue felt too heavy in your mouth, keeping you from saying anything.

"Fuck, j-just stop me if I'm goin' too fast-" Engie mumbled into your neck as he aligned his fangs against you, preparing to take another bite. You could smell the heavy, almost musky smell of vampiric venom wafting from Engie's mouth, similar to the dribblets of precum leaking from the tip of his cock, just seconds away from spearing you.

Your eyes drifted from his face back to the ceiling, eyesight blurry and unfocused. Your body tensed as Engie pushed inside; the feeling made you nauseous, but you could only look away and kick your feet weakly as he snapped his hips against yours. Everything began to dull. His mouth continued to nibble and suckle from your body. His venom's aroma hung heavy in the air. Your muscles were sore from the blood loss and tension, but all were overtaken by a crushing feeling of apathy and dissociation. Blurring pain, fear, sickness, and arousal together into nothingness.

You were drifting somewhere between awake and asleep, entirely terrified and totally numb, when Engie took another bite from your shoulder, injecting another load of venom inside you in sync with his balls emptying inside you. His bite was hungry and desperate, accidentally gouging out a few tiny chunks of skin, which he swallowed constantly. Oddly, you could feel the pain of skin being ripped away, but it affects you as it should have. The pain was there, but it didn't matter. Like your body was no longer your own, it was his, and if gnawing your skin away bit by bit pleased him, so be it. 

Spy watched Engie remain sheathed inside you for a while, breathing heavily, swallowing the remaining blood in his mouth before he eventually rolled over, collapsing at your other side. Engie continued to pant a bit longer, mindlessly bringing a hand to rub over the curve of his gut, considerably bloated from all he'd had to drink. Engie couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so full, and for a moment felt a bitter nostalgia for his living days back in Texas, where "everything was bigger,", especially the food. The painful fullness felt familiar in a way he hadn't felt for so long.

"She's gonna be… alright, isn't she?" Engie, still coming down from his own feeding high, was no longer immune to the guilt of his actions, rolling onto his side. Tonight went further than ever before, much further, and the sight of your naked, vulnerable human body brought him back down to earth, and suddenly, the warm blood he felt sitting heavy in his gut didn't feel so good. Engie felt heavier, filled with blood so rich and delicious it bordered on painful and sluggish for exerting himself. All he wanted now was to head back to his ranch and find a nice, quiet place to lay down. 

Your body, sprawled out on the bed, smeared with thin, crusted smears of your own blood, still breathing unsteadily, head back staring at the ceiling while you were evidently somewhat dazed from the blood loss and strain of what you'd just been through. You were breathing, which was good, and Engie knew you hadn't lost a fatal amount of blood, but his conscience refused him peace of mind.

Spy adored being the devil in Engie's ear. Urging him to give into temptation and brutalize you was the high point of the night, and watching Engie's remorse for his actions was also quite satisfying. He couldn't help but grin sinisterly as Engie's gaze went from you to Spy, who stared back bright-eyed with an almost chipper viciousness.

Spy repositioned himself in bed to sit upright with perfect posture as he stared down the other vampire, "She'll make it. I'll see to it. I assure you, I take excellent care of my possessions."

Clenching his jaw a little, Engie tried to appear as neutral as he could, but he could tell the other vampire was mocking him. Spy knew how Engie's formed an attachment with you, and it hurt to hear Spy addressing you like an object. How could he call you a possession after all that? Though he was technically right, you were still his property after all. How cold-hearted and jaded did a man have to become to see humans as nothing but food. It was a vile thing to say, as though he had no memory of being human once at all. 

Engie wanted to say something to defend you, but what was the point? Hadn't he just now fed off of you until you were about to pass out, going back for seconds even after he could see how afraid you were? No matter how guilty he might've felt, Engie knew he had no grounds to call the other vampire heartless. Despite not knowing you before now, he couldn't help but feel sorry for you, not for your cloistered life as a living blood bank and live-in pet for a vampire; such a fate would be miserable for anyone, but having to endure all that to Spy, of all vampires was frankly a fate worse than death.

Engie sat up scooching down to the very foot of the bed where he sat, his legs dangling from the side of the bed beside the swan's neck, trying not to let himself see the mess of fluids puddled around you, tarnishing the bed sheets, forcing him to take in just how he'd let himself go. "Is she going to remember this?" 

To his surprise, Spy paused carefully regarding the two of you. His expression changed from maliciousness to consideration, momentarily dropping his airs of superiority. "No… I suppose not everything. But you do know what comes next, don't you?"

Engie almost couldn't believe the gall of the vampire before him. "Nothing is coming next. This is over! You've held up your end of the deal. I've been fed. This was all a one-time thing, no more, no less!" 

Spy, smiling cordially, appeared unaffected by Engie's visible wrath, "I must say, you've impressed me tonight. I didn't think you had it in you to go all the way."

Engie huffed, rolling his eyes, "Like it matters. It's over now, I won't be coming back."

"Over?" Spy mused.

Engie snapped back instantly, "Yes, over. I ain't comin' back. You and your lot can keep all the prisoners you want- I'll have no part in this!"

"Hardly my prisoner anymore, not after the damage you've done." 

Engie didn't like the way Spy was talking to him, his airs of superiority morphing into something more mysterious and chilling. "And what exactly do you mean by that?"

"Well, the venom, of course, and your, ah DNA, shall we say- You do know what happens when you force a human to endure both at once, don't you?" Spy couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in surprise as the Engineer merely looked at him with hostility. Spy realized he'd need to be much more blunt to get through to Engie.

"Our kind, all vampires, we take from the living. We drain them of their life force and bleed them dry. We can suck the life out of their body, but that isn't to say we can't provide fresh life to fill the void." As Spy spoke, he pulled the thin bed sheet stained with blood pushed to the bottom of the bed during the excitement over your naked body to conceal the grizzly sight below before he stood up from the bed, picking up his garments, dressing, ensuring his clothing was properly smoothed down and buttoned correctly, to mask any traces of the depravity he'd just engaged in.

Engie roared, "The hell are you sayin'?" 

Spy didn't respond but looked Engie square in the eye, waiting for him to connect the dots. And after a moment of forced silence, Engie buried his face in his hands, moaning a quiet but mournful "oh."

"My deepest apologies. If only I'd known before, you never knew, I would've spoken sooner-" Spy walked to place his hand on the other man's shoulder, but Engie retracted before Spy could reach him.

"Shut up! You, goddamn snake, you- fuckin' hell! You knew it would end like this. You knew all along!" Engie felt his breath rush from his chest as his hands went numb. All at once, his anger died down into a bleak depressive-acceptance. If not for the fact he was already sitting on the edge of the bed, he'd likely fallen over. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see you'd managed to pass into a largely calm slumber; the blanket over your body concealed you from his view, but Engie could only imagine what was going on inside of you at that moment. If he didn't know this could happen, he had a bad feeling you didn't either. His head dropped forward a little, his posture slumped forward, bracing himself using his hands on the tops of his knees. Engie had no idea what he was in for when he accepted the invitation to Spy's chateau for a complimentary meal and "proper dining," but never in a million years would he have seen something like this coming. 

He didn't have the strength to look Spy in the eye, "You're a liar. Humans and vampires can't reproduce. It ain't natural, and it's- aw hell, It just ain't possible!"

Spy extended a hand, cupping the bottom of Engie's jaw, firmly forcing him to meet him at eye level. "Call me a liar now all you want. Enjoy believing that while it lasts."

[arttrampbelle]

Snake man/Naga au shang tsung

Ok ok hear me out

snake man shang tsung. Or naga shang tsung. Whichever one you prefer to use.

Ok listen. This is a fun au idea.

And no this isn't about mk1 2023 shang tsung! Picture any other shang tsung. Plz. Even. Chin hans shang tsung from the mk 2021 movie for all i care. (Tho i pictured tagawa's shang but thats just me)

But anyways.

Snake man shang.

Cw:none really. I guess au shang tsung? Snakes?

🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍

Imagine.

Shang tsung as a snake man

His eyes are of a gold and green. The pupils almost look like they have galaxies in them,secrets of the unknown. Hidden knowledge of the universe and the magics of the veil and void. Flashed gold when angered and threatened. And in darkness.

And scales of viridian dark greens fading into an iridescent metallic lime green. Golden flecks throughout the scales.

Claws are black painted with golden tips.

Hair is a deep black ink. The deepest black and long tresses neatly kempt. Adorned with the finest hair ornaments. Some were "trophies" of the souls he took and the warriors he devoured.

His fangs while intimidating,only produced venom when nessicary. Tounge is long, serpentine,when he speaks his s's hiss and his R's growl. You can feel the primal sounds.

His upper half was of a handsome man. In his mid to late 40s. That of far eastern decent. Nose distinctly hooked and that of serpentine. Smile is soothingly sinister. As if he is knowing before one speaks. A golden tan to his skin reflects that of a man who loves sunning. Sleeping on his island domains beach and shore is his favorite pastime. Nicely muscled and very active.

His voice is of honey. Rich,deep,thick. Sweet words of lulling. Only to extrap you in his coils. And by then...it is all but too late. He has you.

The master of his den,keeps it spotless. Takes very good care of it. Adorns it with only the finest treasures,jewels,silks,and decor. His island home is absolutely beautiful. All are welcome. But few ever want to leave....or....*laugh* could leave. Books upon books scattered about his lair tells of an intellectual man. Various tinkering of devices also states of a man who is engineering. Alchemy and science. Magic and practicality. This is a man of absolute brilliance. Deadly and terrifyingly intelligent.

To look upon this man. Is to look at the devil face to face. How you face said devil. Tells more about you traveler. Than the serpentine you gaze upon.

Some run,some hide,some act in righteous fury,some cry in fear. And some...just some...look upon him.

And feel free. Alive. And even fall into a deep love and compassion.

These are the people you should be wary of.

For they do not fear death nor hell.

And they find comfort,in his deathly coils.

Shang tsung,lord of souls. High mage of magic. Emperor of the grey isle. Master of death itself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oh boy this was so much fun to write! Lemme know if you guys want more!

💖💖💖

[theworldibuilt4you]

Snake's expression faltered slightly, their confusion genuinely catching them at a loss.]

Wh... No, like, your suit. Like, the one that depicts your species...? Aagh, Sonny... You too?

[They put a hand to their mouth in thought. They weren't that bad at explaining things right? Right??]

Man I wish I could show you...

[Their tail jerked in frustration as they stewed, before they unlocked a rather ancient memory.]

W-wait! I can show you! I've got a pile of stuff I've built I've built over the years of all the things people have thrown at me or dropped after beating me up! And, a long time ago, I crossed paths with this huge gila monster one night. Gave me some gnarly bruises, but those were a small price to pay forrrr...

[They scrambled to their feet, digging around said pile, tossing empty soda cans, sandals, and even wallets aside in the process. They eventually found what they were looking for and nearly tripped over their own tail on their way back to their keyboard.]

Free phone! It's not a very expensive one but I'm not surprised, the brute probably goes through one a week, heh. I'm sure he didn't miss this one.

[They opened the camera app and snapped a quick picture in selfie mode, sending it along as fast as they could.]

Lookie! I always get to see you guys, but now you get to see me!!

[They readied for a second one eagerly at first, but this time they lingered a bit longer after seeing the image reflected on the screen. Memories of wrinkled noses, squinted eyes and words more potent than venom flashed through their mind. They took the picture anyways, but it captured their hesitation.]

Annnd, here's the rest of my suit. It's... not the easiest on the eyes, I know. But, it's me and it's all I've got. You know how it is, heh...

O-oh hey! Looks like I got my computer and blanket too!

-🐍

[Casey seemed just a bit taken aback, trying to adjust to this new information. It never really stopped, huh? They're always having to slightly adjust their world view... They had gone speechless again for a bit, looking over the photos taken.]

"Huh.... That's..- S...So wait, you're... You're NOT human..? A..Are you like a..-- A selkie..? Thing? Is.. Is that what that's called? I-.. Dude I..- I don't... I don't HAVE a suit- I'm a... I was just some human... H..Have you just been living outside this whole time..?"

[....Sonny, However, has just gone mostly silent, it seems.]

"Kompbnignba..."

[asksearchlights-archive]

"Oh, no reason... What about creatures like Sebastian?if you know of him, of course."

«'Sebastian' is said with a venomous tone, like it's some filthy word never to be said.»

-[🐍]

"One could consider that I really do not care about he existence. He never passes by my territory, and when he does, he just slithers away."

[monstrouscrew]

hello!

for your ST alphabet practice may I ask:

I’m coiled up like the venomous serpent

or if you are up for another one:

The truth is, I am ugly, I am inadequate, I am lost

I am no god

The truth is, I want, to want, to live

And so do you

I hope you have a lovely day. 🐍✨

here, both word sequences. with a gel pen which seems not to embrace the idea of drying completely, and one wrong word (chaos is glitching, may as well rewrite it) ...sorry for that 🌑

(ID in the alt text)

[the-illiterate-pirate]

So, got any headcanons for Naga! Weather Report? Maybe based on behaviors and snake-like whatnots, just being curious. 🐍🌦️

ANON I'M SO SORRY I SAW THIS DURING WORK LAST NIGHT AND WASN'T ABLE TO REPLY!

• First things first, Weather in this au is very mellow and chill. He's more curious than aggressive and is always exploring the forest he lives in (Takes more after his pre!memories self if that makes sense to anyone other than me)

• Also in this au he doesn't wear his hat, and his hair ends underneath his shoulder blades. He still has his horns though because of uhhhhh. Uuuuuuhhhhhhhhh

• Fun fact (stolen from wiki) the genus name for the Eastern Indigo snake is composed of two Greek words that can roughly translate to "lord of the forest" which fits Naga!Weather very well because he may very well be the last of his kind where he lives :( He's also very big

• He's a constrictor, and doesn't have venom, but his fangs are quite the sight. He may also hiss if he feels threatened, but won't bite. While he can technically chew and eat his food regularly he does have the ability to unhinge his jaw to swallow things whole

• He has the tendency of squeezing around things that interests him. (Ex: curious humans walking into his territory)

• Prefers warm temps and is currently looking for a mate to keep him warm during the cold months 😏

• Loves to sunbathe and likes to soak in warm streams

• His scales shine dark blue in the sunlight!!! He's very smooth and the scales don't hurt when they rub up against your skin

[whumperly]

Whump Symbols Masterlist

Beneath the cut is a list of symbols. Send one or more of the following for receiver's muse to discover sender's muse... (or include a 🔄 for the reverse!)

😈 ...being tortured.

🩸 ...bleeding out.

🦴 ...with a visibly broken bone.

🪡 ...patching, stitching, or cauterizing their own wounds.

🩹 ...beaten and left to die.

😵 ...unconscious.

🪑 ...collapsed or unable to stand.

⚡ ...being electrocuted.

🔍 ...suddenly returned after having gone missing.

🍽️ ...dying of starvation.

🥤 ...dying of thirst.

🕳️ ...fallen into a deep pit, hole, or ravine.

⛰️ ...dangling from a ledge.

👐 ...being strangled.

🔪 ...stabbed.

🔫 ...shot.

🌊 ...drowning.

🚬 ...covered in cigarette burns.

🤕 ...covered in bruises.

🫗 ...poisoned.

🥃 ...drunk.

💊 ...drugged or overdosed.

🐴 ...whipped.

⭕ ...branded.

🐍 ...bitten or stung by a venomous creature.

🤧 ...severely ill.

😨 ...having a dangerous allergic reaction.

🤰 ...suddenly going into labor at a bad time.

🔇 ...mute from trauma, shock, or conditioning.

🧍‍♂️ ...paralyzed.

🙈 ...blinded.

❓ ...suffering from amnesia.

💥 ...caught in an explosion.

🔥 ...trapped in a fire.

❄️ ...suffering from hypothermia.

🥵 ...suffering severe heat stroke.

📸 ...being publicly humiliated.

🗣️ ...being verbally assaulted.

💪 ...being physically assaulted.

💋 ...being sexually assaulted.

🪢 ...bound and gagged.

⛓️ ...chained up.

‼️ ...forced into a stress position.

🐶 ...collared and kept like an animal.

⚠️ ...having a panic or anxiety attack.

👹 ...experiencing sleep paralysis.

🛌 ...having a nightmare or night terror.

👁️ ...severely sleep deprived.

🛞 ...unable to drive safely or at all.

🚙 ...struck by a car.

🛻 ...in a car accident.

🏚️ ...trapped beneath a collapsed structure.

💣 ...with a bomb strapped to their body.

🚨 ...arrested and taken to jail or prison.

🚑 ...rushed to the ER.

⚰️ ...buried alive.

💀 ...on the verge of death.

🪦 ...dead.

Feel free to change whatever you like to make the wording more specific for your muses or desired scenario!

[leesbian42-rp]

So who am I?

Hello!! My name is Chaos, or Cam, and this will be where I interact with other RP blogs or chat about my OCs. My main is @leesbian42 and I'll keep my OC tag from that blog here too

I'm 24, queer and I use pink/pinkself bat/batself and punk/punkself, or 🐍/🐍self 🌺/🌺self 🦋/🦋self. Don't like neos? Don't follow. Simple as that.

I'll do most kinds of RPs, but no nsfw and if you want it to go in a certain direction you have to tell me. Any and every OC is never restricted to just one Universe, and even if I don't know the fandom more than the basics I'm willing to at least try.

Some of the things I do is: avatar (atla/lok/woba), lego Ninjago, LEGO Dreamzzz, LEGO Friends, Encanto, Disenchantment, Danny Phantom, Descendants, DC (only know basics), Marvel (bare basics), She-Ra, Voltron, Hamilton, historic, LUCIDS, Marble Hornets / Creepypasta etc

everything I post is open RP unless specified otherwise

So!! Some quick deets on my OCs!!

Non-Fandom OCs:

Eldi 'A23421' Light

my cyborg oc with a ✨tragic evil fucked up past✨. Once human, she was experimented on against her will and had her sentience removed from her, sent out by her Creator, James Stone, to get him new patients to experiment on similar to how he did to Eldi or other majorly fucked up shit. when she's around 13-15 she realises what's been going on and by the time she's 17 she's escaped and deep into hiding, working to reprogram and relearn everything

Phoenix Night

don't really have much for him? He's born in Scotland and got sort of a symbiote like venom??? and got a pretty normal life until I hit him with the Trauma and Death stick yk how it is with OCs

Alex Xamira

I usually make her a friend of Eldi's, but I lost a LOT of the information and notes I had on them originally :(

Liwh Saga Korpwinge

my first ever oc!! She's born in 1100 and has travelled with her mother for as long as she can remember, constantly on the run from something she's never gotten explained to her. Until, one day, her mother gets caught D: Liwh sees her hang from the gallows already the next day (and other things bc uhhh 13yr me making this character really went bonkers with the tragedy)

Tilda Klemensdotter and Torkel Klemensson

these two are actually my irl Museum job characters!! Twins, born in the 1760s, they get job at the local sheriff's (länsman) farm, but somehow keep missing each other and leaves in search for their sibling! But now, a few years later, they're back working at their parents farm. They're both half-finnish too bc Torkel is actually a Finnish name, but idk how much they'd know about that side of the family

Rebel

another one I don't got a lot for? I thought the word Rebel as a name would be super cool and made this oc. Lives up to their name def at least

Fandom OCs:

Raya

I don't got a lot for her either? She's an atla oc (from the swt) AND an encanto oc (from the other side of the mountains).

Elyha Ivy Moon

my WoBA (world of the bending arts) RPG atla oc, an airbender born in around 500AG, 17 yrs old and lives in the Republic City with her mums Mary and Rose, and their older sibling Reese. Elyha and Reese are both adopted by Mary and Rose and they often joke the family is the avatar but split up (Elyha air, Reese earth, Mary water and Rose fire). Elyha's bio parents was a moonblessed waterbender (like Yue) and an airbender, which is how she got her white hair.

Rira 'El Fuego'

another atla oc!! She got kidnapped as a very young child by Ozai and Azulon for her purple fire. She's around the same age as Lu Ten and is a very skilled firebender (Ozai and Azulon won't accept anything less, even from the child they kidnapped) and she, after realising the children were no danger, could be seen with Zuko, Azula and Lu Ten. She actually goes with Iroh to the siege of ba sing se! and after that, the sun warriors!

Sara 'Saga Berry' Gustafson

born in the early 1960s, she's one of my youngest OCs on 11 years! She's specifically from a Gravity Falls dream I once had, which then turned into an au. Orphaned and homeless after her mother got evicted, she spends years on the streets before finally being found by Stan Pines during his homeless days. When Stan leaves the country, she goes with him as his adopted daughter and actually spends the rest of her childhood living on the streets and travelling the world with Stan! She's in her twenties when she starts even thinking about settling down somewhere

[therpdirectory]

PRETTY VENOM 🐍

pretty venom is a semi-private, 18+, jcink premium (real life / celebrity) site set in the ever busy metropolis of new york city, new york. in the city that never sleeps, there is always something to do! with all the possibilities that the city offers, step into the shoes of a celebrity, a busboy, whatever you want, the world is yours! at pretty venom, we want to focus on community and writing together. we have a profile application, with plenty of options for the freeform section, as well as no word count to fit a wide range of member needs! we have plenty of wanted ads and faces open, so feel free to take a peek at the links below!  we have a rolling application process, come apply!

come join us today!

◇ CHECK US OUT  ◇ TUMBLR  ◇ REQUESTS ◇ APPLICATION ◇