#Red Embrace Hollywood Markus | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sssquiddles · 1 year ago

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i dont know how active the red embrace: hollywood fandom is over here (i havent really looked ghfkdsjg) but here: AO3 link

(i appreciate any support over on ao3 but ill post the full chapter here too!)

and the darkness has not overcome it

As the blinding glow of the lights and his cocktail of drugged blood faded, Heath took a step back and failed to realize what he’d done, not until he returned to the hotel...

And set his eyes on the freshly embraced vampire he thought he’d left for dead at the Abattoir.

Rating: Mature

Relationship: Heath/Female Player Character

Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence, setting appropriate levels of sexual content, named OC, Sire Heath, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Iscari Player

Words: 4.5k

Coella clasped her hands together in front of her chest, a mimic of a prayer as she practically felt the drawing glow of a halo cast rays from behind her head, drawing the gaze of those who would otherwise pay her no mind.

She wasn’t used to garnering attention, much too comfortable hiding herself like a frightened animal in the corners of gatherings like this. She was used to her words carrying on the wind, whispered wisps of thoughts, tapering off as she realized she wasn’t being listened to- not this.

Not starved, desperate, antsy gazes of those who waited to hear her verdict.

To them she was the newly embraced, the neutral party- Saorise’s lackey who ran with all of LA’s crowds, had a friend or two in each of the three warring clans—or to some, a saint, sent to settle this years-long dispute between the three LA clans, an angel whose words could reach even the coldest, stillest hearts.

She didn’t do anything to earn this unwarranted political favor, to end up in the hot seat, she was just… lonely. Lonely and scared and she wanted someone to understand her, to listen to her, to comfort her- instead, she offered her comfort, her own listening ear, her own, apparently, calming presence.

And now, she stood on a stage in the last neutral ground of LA’s vampire clans, tasked with declaring it under the control of whichever clan she deemed worthy…

~~~

Her story had started in that very same club, one late night after another bombed audition, she’d sat at the bar, nursing something strong and sweet and trying desperately to cling to the last dredges of her Hollywood dream.

Why else would she have come to Hollywood, other than to make it- a model, actress, or singer, as some kind of A-list celebrity.

In the spotlight…

It was the far off dream of a little girl who hadn’t had a home, and could never feel settled in the one she’d been brought into, no matter how much love she’d been showered with. Nothing could fill the hole in her heart that had formed in the years she’d spent unwanted, unseen, invisible.

But Los Angeles… the city of angels… it held the key to filling that space in her chest. She just knew it.

She’d starved herself for this role, stayed up a couple of nights trying to get the lines just right, practicing in the mirror, haunted by the sight of her own reflection, only seeing that lost little girl each time she glanced in her own, dull gray eyes.

“Damn them,” she murmured, staring sadly down at her drink. Her savings were whittling away, more and more with each failed audition, each photographer that ghosted her after taking her money and pictures- she’d have to move back home soon, at this rate.

Or worse, call her adoptive father and beg him for some more money.

He’d give it, of course he would, but he’d ask her how she was doing, ask her if she’s going to visit home soon, and he’d end the call knowing that she was struggling.

Hell, if she sounded too pitiful, he’d probably drive out there to drag her home himself.

“Rough night…?” A soft voice called- much too soft to be heard over the pounding music of the Abattoir, but somehow she heard it as clear as if the room were silent, as a man moved to take the empty seat beside her.

He had a glass of dark, dark red liquid. Red wine, at a bar like this?

Coella slowly dragged her gray gaze up towards his face, having a hard time discerning his features from the flashing, colorful lights of the club. She caught a few glimpses, though- sad, hazy green eyes, a sharp jawline, reddish lips, a flash of white teeth.

She felt drawn to him, a moth to a bright, lonely lighthouse.

“I guess you could say that,” she replied, her own voice too soft to really be heard- but when she looked up to repeat herself, she could see him tilting his head inquisitively, as if prompting her to continue.

Tucking a strand of whitish blonde hair behind her ear, she continued, “I bombed an audition today... Stumbled over the lines, even though I practiced them like, like I should have known those lines better than I knew how to breathe, but- but I just froze, or something. Third one in the last couple weeks, just…” she let out a troubled sigh, taking another long swig of her drink, blinking as it pushed her over the threshold from sad tipsy, to despairing drunk. “Even when I don’t bomb them, it’s like I’m invisible to those people. Like- like what do I have to do to be seen?!”

Suddenly remembering the pretty stranger she was talking to, Coella’s face flushed, glancing up at him in worry—expecting to see a man who didn’t realize he’d picked a crazy emotional broad to chat up, or something. As her lips parted to apologize, he spoke-

“I see you.”

Three words, quiet, drifting into her ears like a melody, and the young woman could feel herself melting. She could have cried—it was stupid, but it was like this man was hypnotizing her.

“Y- You… um, I- I’m sorry,” she’d said, staring up at his ever-changing face, the strobe lights making it entirely impossible to get a good look at him. She’d had more to say, but was finding it hard to remember what it was, as she fell into his eyes. Deep green and sad, hazy like he wasn’t really all the way there, looking down at her.

The man was silent, fidgeting with the end of a dark colored scarf that hung limply over his shoulders, head tilted as he looked down at her. His gaze was hungry, but soft, conflicted. Like he was debating whether to say or do something else.

Part of her wanted to scurry away, some feeling of nervousness rising in her throat, despite his soothing presence. Maybe it was because he was a little too perfect, that he’d showed up to listen to what she needed to get off her chest, and say exactly what she needed to hear…

“I- I’m sorry, I didn’t… um, catch your name…?” Coella finally stammered out, her heart hammering in her ribcage, trying to jump out and run away before she stupidly started to fall for this man she’d just met.

“It’s… River. And… yours?” The man replied, his voice drifting into her ears once again, as he dragged a finger down his wine glass, keeping his gaze on her face.

“River…” she repeated, before shaking her head. “Mine’s- um, Coella. Sorry for rambling on before, I’m just- just, a little frustrated. You- I’m sure you know how it is for us newcomers. Starry-eyed and naive, I- I just need a reality check. Drinking isn’t doing much to help me, a- and- um, I’m rambling again…”

A soft laugh fell from his lips next, and Coella swore she saw the white of a sharp fang peek out from behind them- probably just the flashing lights. She was too focused on how nice his laugh sounded to notice the wry quirk of his lips.

“There’s nothing wrong with holding on to that, innocence. Sometimes it’s better if the curtains never get pulled back,” River replied, shaking his head a little as he took a long drink from his glass. When he set it back down on the bar, it was on the side that she was resting her hand, his fingers brushing against her’s.

Coella felt the spark before she felt the chill of his skin, focusing only on how her heart raced. He sounded like he knew exactly what lay behind the proverbial curtain, and she was beginning to grow more and more curious- she wanted to know what he knew, see what he’s seen. What more to Hollywood was there?

Feeling emboldened by the few dirty Shirley's she’s downed, Coella brushed her fingers against his, on purpose, tilting her head to look up at his eyes. “It’s not a bad thing- to lift the curtain. I want to be on the other side, instead of looking in from the outside. I- I want to shine, wouldn’t you?”

River looked taken aback for a moment, before his face settled into something almost sad, though he was smiling at her, that haziness in his green eyes only settling deeper.

“Do you?”

Coella nodded earnestly—whether or not he really was in the acting scene, like she felt like he was, the connection she felt with him was undeniable. When he took her hand and led her to the back of the club, somewhere secluded, where they’d already passed other couples halfway to copulating, she followed without protest, stumbling a little behind him.

Though they’d come to a corner where they were no longer under the strobing, colorful lights, Coella found she still couldn’t focus on his face—though she’d barely gotten a chance to try, as his lips pressed to her’s, hot despite how chilled his skin felt against her’s.

His hand slid down her back, settling in the dip to keep her pressed tight against his chest as their lips hungrily collided.

The blondish girl felt pinpricks of pain as he bit her lip, before something more euphoric rushed through her. He licked the blood that flowed from his bite, before kissing down to her neck, where he’d nuzzled her pulse point, lapping at her warm, flushed skin.

“Do you… want to see the stars?” River murmured against her skin, his voice sounding and feeling much more far away than it had at the bar. Like he was seconds from pulling away and leaving her there, high and dry.

“Yes, yes, please,” Coella pleaded softly, fingers curled in the material of his leather jacket, terrified of losing this opportunity. Whatever it was, a passionate love affair, or something more—a foot in the door.

He swore softly against her skin, before he sunk his teeth in her neck—much less gently, than anything else he’d done that night, and the shock made Coella sober up in an instant, as she felt her warmth draining into him.

“W… Wait…” she whispered, her own voice sounding far away, her hands clinging much tighter to the stranger. The initial euphoric feeling was fading into something colder, the longer his mouth stayed latched to her neck, her pounding heart beginning to slow, turning quiet.

Instead of clinging to him, her hands began to claw at his arms, weakly trying in vain to stop him before he’d drained her completely, her eyelids fluttering as her consciousness waned.

Was this it? Her last hurrah in Hollywood, being murdered by some psycho vampire fetishist, with no accomplishments under her belt?

Was this how her unremarkable stint in the city of angels was going to come to an end? Quietly passing away in the back of a booming club, her body to be found by the clean up crew later? Would they just leave her unknown, left in an unmarked grave, her family left to wonder what happened to her?

As the last dredges of her life faded, warm, coppery blood was smeared across her lips, dripping into her mouth and down her throat.

Then she felt her body as it was lowered to the ground, footsteps hurrying away.

Left to die.

~~~

When Coella came to, seconds, minutes, hours later—she could tell something was… wrong. The dim lights of the back hallway were too bright, the booming club music, which had already been too loud for the poor sensory-sensitive girl, was now deafening, and she could very clearly hear the smacking moans of the other couple a little ways down the hallway.

All of that, but she couldn’t hear her own heart beating any longer, and she felt… cold. Very cold.

Rising to her feet, her hands trembled as she looked down at them, opening and closing her fingers. The first thing she noticed was her nails- previously cracked and chewed on, were now healed and shiny, as if buffed. She reached up to give her cheek a pat, unsure if this was real life, or if she’d begun dreaming.

Soft flesh pushed against her fingers, damp with tears. She wiped her face and pulled out a mirror quickly, being greeted by the reflection of two, glowing silver eyes. Pulling the compact back a little to take in the rest of her appearance, she found her skin paler, but smoother, her stress breakout was gone. Her skin practically glowed, as if inlaid with diamonds, and her hair was smooth and shiny, too.

It… must have just been the alcohol. Or the sex she didn’t quite remember having, if that… happened at all. She shuddered, her stomach turning at the thought of that man taking advantage of her when she passed out.

She stumbled further down the hallway, and out the back door as her stomach turned really sour, and she threw up the last dredges of her very last meal, completely emptying the contents of her stomach.

On her knees, she slid a hand up her thigh, checking- with a bit of relief, finding that her panties were still there, untouched. That was… comforting. Still, not knowing for sure made her skin crawl, a very real fear making her feel like her stomach was going to turn again. She felt dirty, and she wanted to go home and take a shower, then call home.

“Havin’ fun down there?”

Coella jumped, stumbling to her feet, hands shooting to her sides at the sound of a voice, a nice southern drawl.

Fearful, like a rabbit caught in the sights of an apex predator, she dragged her eyes up to the source of the voice, finding a pair of light-colored glowing eyes peering at her from behind a pair of sunglasses. It was definitely still night time.

“How- d-did you see- I mean, I wasn’t- I j-just wanted to make sure-” Coella stumbled over an explanation, hot tears of shame rising up in her eyes as she desperately tried to explain that she was not touching herself like that.

Thick dark eyebrows raised, along with a pair of gloved hands, as if to say ‘I mean you no harm’.

“No need to explain yourself, I’m thinkin’ you’ve got quite a few concerns now that you’re a walkin’ dead,” the man drawled, lips curling into something more akin to amusement. “You smell fresh.”

“A- A, what…?”

“I guess walkin’ dead makes you sound like a zombie, a little too brainless for most of our kind. Apologies, allow me to introduce myself… I’m…”

At the frightened, trembling gaze of the young woman in front of him, the man seemed to decide against the showy introduction, shaking his head.

“My… you’re as docile as a lamb. My name is Markus, I’m here to escort you to your new boss… Coella.”

“H- How do you know my name..? A- And what did you mean, walking dead…?”

As he took a step forward, she took a shaking step backwards, pressing herself against the brick wall of the club, feeling the music vibrating against her back.

“I make it a point to get to know every fresh face in LA, whether they know me or not. And no, I’m not sayin’ ‘walking dead’ as some cruel nickname before I murder you. I think you’ve had enough close encounters with death for one night, wouldn’t you say?” Markus shook his head, clicking his tongue. “You’re a vampire now, little one. A blood sucker, human predator of the night. Can’t you feel it? Your own… otherworldly glow?”

“Glow…?”

“Mm, especially bright for you- house of the stars. How fittin’ for a rising star. Former risin’ star, of course, we’ll have to erase your old identity…”

“House of the stars…?” she couldn’t help but continue to repeat what he’d said back to him, in a daze.

Suddenly she remembered- a flash, from before she woke up.

“Do you want to see the stars…?”

That soft, melodic voice, twinged in sadness.

That man- River, wasn’t some weird murderer who thought he was a vampire, he really had been a vampire. And he’d turned her into one.

She pressed her fingers to her lips, feeling like she was going to be sick again.

Markus clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Really, they should give you a full brief before they force you to take the full dive. Come here, I can tell you all about this new life on our way to the hotel.”

Coella hesitated, staring into his eyes, her muscles tensed to run, but something in her calmed—or gave up, more likely. She’d already died once that night, what else could really be done to her?

Shoulders sinking in defeat, she nodded, walking towards the man, catching as his eyebrows raised a little in surprise, before settling.

“How docile indeed, little one.”

~~~

Heath was coming down from a myriad of drugs as he stumbled into the Hotel, spitefully ignoring the pitious gazes that followed him wherever he went.

He hadn’t quite overdosed- it wasn’t really possible in that infernal body to do so, but he’d certainly gone overboard, having thrown in a hallucinogen this time around. The Abattoir, with its swirling, colorful lights and deafening music just felt… right. He felt drawn to the heady atmosphere like he never had before, often preferring the quiet ambience of his own bar, or the solitude of his own room, over such a crowded and sweaty place.

Drawn even further to the bar, towards the mortal, lonely and shining within the crowd.

He couldn’t remember too much about her appearance, besides the ethereal glow around her, a halo offset behind her wispy white hair, and the fluttering of white wings on her back- that had to have been the hallucinogen.

He remembered being close, too close, and the taste of warm, fresh blood—holding a life in his hands, and soft grasping hands.

And then panicking- smearing his blood on her lips, and running.

So… he’d created another cursed existence today.

“Fuck,” he murmured, running a hand through his hair, tugging at the silvery locks with a wince.

He couldn’t be sure, of course—that dose was strong. Maybe he’d just imagined the entire thing, fell asleep piss-drunk in the back and dreamt the entire encounter.

Yeah…

The lobby had been abuzz with something—apparently one of the new embraces had been mixed up, someone Saorise had picked out bailed, but someone else was embraced in their place, on the same night, by accident. Filling the spot. Weird coincidence.

As he walked through the hall, he passed Markus, who gave him a cold sneer behind his sunglasses.

“The proverbial shepherd finally arrives to tend to his lamb,” Markus said, not pausing in his stride—a passing comment that sent a chill down Heath’s spine.

“What did you say?” Heath called, but Markus had rounded the corner and was gone.

Shepherd? Lamb?

Markus talked like a madman sometimes, but Heath wasn’t stupid- he could guess what that meant, but what…

Oh no, oh no no no…

He rushed down the hall, towards the empty room he’d known had been prepared for the new embrace, likely given to the unsanctioned addition to the clan. He could feel it without even opening the door, that presence, the draw- he’d never sired another vampire before, never even wished to do that to a living person, but he could feel it, on the other side of the door.

He could hear soft sniffles on the other side, ceasing when he’d knocked on its wooden surface.

Shit, he hadn’t even thought of what to say-

The door opened, greeting him to the soft, angelic sight of the woman he’d met at the club, her skin and eyes glowing. A little fang poked out behind her lips when she offered a nervous greeting, inquisitive eyes glancing up at him.

For a moment, he saw it—the flash of recognition, and he could feel guilt sinking into his stomach, before her eyes softened.

“Ah… my… apologies,” he finally got out, “I’d… completely forgotten what I was going to say as soon as you opened the door.”

“Th- that’s okay,” she replied, that same soft, delicate voice he remembered drifting through his consciousness before. The soul that was so similar to his—the light he’d snuffed out himself.

“I’d heard what happened, and I… came to offer my sympathies. Would you be open hosting to a guest?” He asked, trying not to sound too guilty- she didn’t recognize him, yet. Surely she could feel it, the draw, the wish to settle under his wing.

A sire… he’d had one, of course, they all did, but he could hardly remember her, his mother…

“Please do,” the young woman replied, opening the door to let him in, closing it behind him. “Make yourself comfortable...”

Heath took a seat on the chair by the window, as she perched at the edge of the bed, peering at him curiously.

He could see it in her gaze- she was trying to figure out who he was, why she felt the way she did as she looked at him.

“My name is Heath, I- I really must give my condolences, again. Being embraced so suddenly… it’s harrowing,” he said, rubbing his fingers down the side of his face. Whatever flirting mask he’d typically try to hold up crumbled at the sight of her red-ringed eyes, the clear sign that she’d been crying right before he walked inside. “And rarely are the kindred around us very… understanding, about that. Being ripped from your old life… you must be angry, or scared..?”

It was a cheap tactic, removing himself from the equation to fish out how she feels about this- while he’d never consider this accidental embrace a good thing, perhaps he could get some peace of mind, if she’s one of the stronger types, the kind who, unlike him, thrived under these adverse conditions.

Instead of the look of determination he was hoping to see, despair crossed her features, as tears misted over her silver eyes, her bottom lip wobbling with barely-contained tears.

“I- I am scared,” she mumbled in a quiet voice, arms wrapping around herself, rubbing her bare arms as if she could feel a chill in the room. “I- I don’t want to be a part of a war, or politics, and- and I can’t talk to my family anymore, and I can’t go to any more auditions, and I’m so hungry b-but I can’t… even think about…” she trailed off, wiping her tears with a small, shaking hand.

Heath felt the space in his chest ache, self loathing creeping up in his throat like bile as he watched her, before gently reaching out with a tissue. He wanted to run, his muscles tense, waiting for the moment that she would put 2 and 2 together and realize that the source of her misery was sitting in front of her, but she never did. She only delicately accepted the tissue, wiping at her face with a quiet sob.

How could he stay, when she was ruined because of him? She was young- barely twenty years old with her life ripped away from her, just as he had been.

But God, how could he run, when she needed him? Her sire?

It’d make him no better than his own sire—but now, perhaps, some part of him understood now why many sires didn’t stick around. To witness the blossoming pain, and despair, grown from the seeds he’d sown…

“It’s… it’ll get better,” he murmured—he couldn’t bring himself to say it’s okay when clearly it was not. Gently, he patted her shoulder, drawing closer as he offered what little comfort he could bring himself to provide.

His first lesson as a sire was coming at him fast, and he wasn’t sure what to do- bring her a blood bag and tell her to suck it up and drink, or let her waste away into a frenzy, to keep her inside of her comfort zone?

Drawing back, he grabbed a crystal glass and a bag of blood from the fridge, opening the pouch and pouring it into the glass. He saw her head snap up as soon as he’d opened the bag—the smell likely activating the beast that fought for control inside of her undead body.

Walking back over, he offered the glass with a sympathetic gaze as she hesitated, despite how strong the hunger must have been by now.

“I can’t really help with… much else, besides this. It makes it easier to stomach, while you get used to exactly what it is that you’re drinking,” Heath offered, pressing the glass into her hands.

Coella looked up at him like he offered her salvation, not just a glass full of lukewarm blood, and the glowing gaze of his childe made him… shrink away. Her gaze was earnest, desperate, and sad—is that how he’d looked, looking up at his mother, that day?

Gratefully, the fledgling took the glass, hesitating with a tearful gaze before she tipped it towards her lips, Heath’s eyes heavy on her as she took her first drink as a damned creature, officially… sealing her fate, her existence.

Once she finished, she’d calmed down considerably, licking away the last dredges of the viscous liquid from her, now reddened, lips. She toyed with the empty glass, casting her gaze down on it. Now that she wasn’t raging with as many emotions, or hunger, he could sense a nervousness in her motions, the way she’d glance at him and back down at the glass.

“Feel better, now?” he offered, head tilting to look down at her, to try to catch her gaze.

Coella nodded, swallowing thickly. “Sorry for… um, e-exploding.”

Heath shook his head, gently taking the glass from her hands- to force her to shift her attention back on him, for as much as her gaze scared him, some selfish part of him only wanted her to look at him.

“I understand, I… it hasn’t been too long since my own embrace, so… it gets easier to deal with, or to forget. The sun, the human joys of life, sharing space with others… for having our clans, vampires are still such solitary creatures,” Heath said, sadness creeping into his tone as he ran his fingers through his feathery hair, looking down at her. He offered a soft smile, which seemed to lift some of the despair from her own gaze. “I’d love to offer my company, though, should you wish for it. I run a small bar…”

Giving the information that he’d wanted to, after that, he departed, being left with a promise for her to stop by. As soon as he stepped outside of the door, his shoulders sank and he pulled out a cigarette, brow creasing.

Just what had he done…?

AO3 link

#my writing #Red Embrace Hollywood #red embrace heath #re:h #red embrace markus #ive never posted a chapter to tumblr like this but imma try it out n see how it goes?#lemme know if you read this and want more??

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