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voidpetrova · 9 months

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transition — jeremy gilbert x reader

☄. *. ⋆

content warnings and genre: swearing, crying, blood, vampire!reader, hunter!jeremy — hurt/comfort

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

synopsis: after getting bit by a salvatore brother, you go to the only place you can find comfort, and jeremy's forced to make a choice

✧.*

the night air was thick with tension as you stumbled down the tenebrous road, clutching your bleeding arm and gasping for air. the memory of damon's piercing gaze and the searing pain of his bite was still fresh, sending waves of agony through your veins with every faltering step. the stars above seemed to mock your suffering, their distant glimmers indifferent to the torment that had befallen you.

“i need to eat, (y/n), you know that,” his voice remained steady as he stood behind you, hand wrapped around your throat as he tilted your head to the side, giving him all the leverage he needed. he tried to ignore the way you clawed desperately at his wrist, the way your sobs made his chest feel heavy. “think of it as a gift, sunshine.”

you knew the risks, as did he—he ignored the way his vampiric venom clashed with your fresh would. you screamed, despite his rough hand clasped over your mouth, muffling the sounds. “i do hope you'll forgive me, (y/n).”

each heartbeat throbbed like a war drum in your ears, a relentless reminder of your fragile mortality. tears welled up, blurring your vision as you staggered, the world spinning around you. the darkness pressed in from all sides, suffocating, as you desperately clung to consciousness.

the familiar silhouette of the gilbert house emerged through the haze of your pain. It stood like a beacon of solace, a place where you had always found refuge. your heart raced as you stumbled up the steps, your fingers fumbling for the doorknob. it was almost impossible to get there—you were sobbing as you crawled, back hunched as the blood continued to pour down your neck. it was truly more than you had bargained for. the door swung open, revealing the dimly lit interior, a sanctuary from the horrors that haunted you.

your trembling legs carried you through the threshold, and the door creaked shut behind you. the scent of old books and wood polish enveloped you, a comforting embrace that momentarily eased the anguish in your body. but the solace was fleeting, replaced by the harsh reality of your condition.

a sob tore from your lips as you sank to the floor, the pain becoming too much to bear. the wooden panels were cold against your feverish skin, the contrast jarring and yet oddly grounding. the room seemed to sway, the edges blurring as your vision wavered between darkness and light.

“hello? is someone there?” jeremy's voice echoed through the house, slicing through the haze of your agony. your heart skipped a beat as his figure appeared in the doorway, his eyes widening in shock at the sight before him. his gaze locked onto yours, concern and confusion warring in his expression.

“(y/n)? what happened?” he rushed to your side, his hands hovering uncertainly over your trembling form. the proximity of his touch sent shivers down your spine, a stark reminder of the vulnerability you felt. “it was damon, i swear i didn't want this,” your voice wavered, the words escaping in broken fragments as you struggled to convey the horror of the encounter. jeremy's jaw clenched, his fists tightening as understanding dawned upon him. the gash on your neck continued to bleed profusely, the skin around it beginning to bruise heavily. jeremy felt his heart in his stomach for a second—he had expected absolutely everything, just not this.

“stay here,” he commanded, his voice laced with determination as he disappeared from your sight. moments later, he returned with a first aid kit, his hands surprisingly steady as he tended to your wound. the sensation of his touch was both gentle and grounding, a lifeline amidst the chaos. his fingers worked carefully, cleaning up the blood that sought no end, his gentle touch balancing out the stinging pain. he cleaned the wound carefully, but he had no way to get the venom out—unable to ease the pain that began to stir within you.

as the pain began to ebb, just a bit, your tears subsided, leaving behind a hollow ache. you gazed up at keremy, your eyes searching his for answers, for a way out of this nightmare. his brows furrowed, a conflicted expression marring his features.

“you know i have a choice to make here,” jeremy admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, his tone gentle. he sat beside you, holding your shaky hand as he watched you, heart churning at the sight of you crying. quiet sobs wracked your body as you trembled, seeking solace in his touch. he pulled you in closer, arms wrapped around you trembling body as he buried his face in your hair. “you shouldn't have come here, (y/n). you know what my job is.”

the weight of his words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the crossroads that had been thrust upon him. your heart ached at the torment he faced, torn between his duty and his emotions. the room seemed to shrink around you, the walls closing in as your breaths grew ragged. quiet apologies left your mouth as you held onto him just a little bit tighter. yes, jeremy cared for you in ways you could never imagine, but he also cared for the duties that were so clearly laid out for him.

“jeremy, please,” you begged, your voice raw with desperation. the pain had reached a new height, your wound beginning to flow freely once more. tears spilled down your cheeks as you held onto him, salty liquid staining his white shirt. “i can't go on like this. if there's no other way, just kill me.”

his gaze bore into yours, a maelstrom of emotions swirling within. you sobbed quietly, the pit of your stomach churning from the hunger you were feeling. it clashed with the pain altogether, the sensitivity—as if you'd gone days without a bite to eat. and then, with a decision as painful as it was selfless, he shook his head. "no, i won't let you go like that." he hesitated for a moment before extending his wrist toward you. “if you're willing, take my blood. it might give you another option.”

your heart raced at the proposition, your mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. but in his eyes, you found a glimmer of hope, a lifeline you couldn't ignore. with trembling hands, you grasped his shirt, frail fingers pulling yourself off to lock eyes with him. he stared at you with pity in his gaze, a soft smile on his face as he stroked your cheek with his thumb. “i couldn't kill you if i wanted to,” he admitted, voice soft and gentle like you were used to. he cupped your cheeks, leaning in to place a kiss to your forehead. “we're gonna fix this, okay? you have to feed off me.”

as the world around you blurred, jeremy's presence remained steadfast, a guiding light in the darkness. you nodded, but you hesitated. he encouraged you, seating you on his lap to bring you in closer, exposing his neck, showing the same place damon had attacked you. you were careful, body shaking, the only source of comfort being the way his hands held your waist, pressing your chest into his to calm you down. when you bit him, no matter how much you wanted to satisfy your hunger, you were careful. the way he touched you gave you all the control in the world and when you finally sank you fangs into his skin, relishing in the metallic taste as his grip tightened, the pain began to recede, replaced by a strange euphoria that seemed to wash over you in waves. the transition was a tumultuous symphony of sensations, a metamorphosis that reshaped your very essence.

qnd through it all, jeremy was there, his gaze unwavering, his touch a steady anchor. “that's a good girl, just like that,” he shushed you, stroking your hair as his grip on your eaist had begun loosening. as you emerged from the chrysalis of transformation, weak but alive, you found yourself gazing into his eyes once more. the depth of emotion within them was undeniable, a testament to the bond that had been forged amidst the trials.

“i'm so sorry,” you whispered, your hinger temporarily satisfied. he shook his head, a soft smile on his face as he brought you in for a warm hug. “you should've done your job, jer, i'm so sorry.”

jeremy's arms enveloped you in a gentle embrace, his touch a soothing balm to your weary soul. the taste of his blood still lingered on your lips, a constant reminder of the sacrifice he had made to save you from the abyss. his warm smile held a depth of understanding and compassion that eased the weight of guilt that had settled within you.

“it's not your fault,” he whispered, his voice a comforting reassurance. “none of this was your doing. i made a choice, and i stand by it.”

your breath caught as his words seeped into your consciousness, the intensity of his gaze stripping away your defenses. his unwavering support was a lifeline, a connection that anchored you to the present amidst the tumult of change.

“i can't help but feel responsible,” you admitted, your voice laced with vulnerability. “you had to go through this because of me.”

jeremy's thumb brushed away a stray tear that had escaped your eye, his touch gentle and tender. “i've seen enough pain and loss in my life to know that sometimes, sacrifices are necessary. what matters is that you're here, and we'll face whatever comes together.”

the weight of his words settled over you like a warm blanket, wrapping you in a cocoon of acceptance and understanding. the bond that had been forged between you was unbreakable, a testament to the trials you had overcome and the connection that had deepened as a result.

as you gazed into his eyes, the remnants of your former self mingled with the newness of your vampire nature. the journey ahead was uncertain, marked by challenges and discoveries you couldn't yet fathom. but in his presence, you found the strength to face whatever came your way, together.

“thank you, jeremy,” you murmured, your gratitude flowing from the depths of your heart. “for saving me, for being here.”

he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips a tender caress against your skin. “i'll always be here for you, (y/n). you're a more important duty of mine than the hunting.”

in that moment, as the night wrapped around you in a cocoon of stars and shadows, you knew that the road ahead might be fraught with darkness and uncertainty. but as jeremy's arms held you close, his heartbeat a steady rhythm against your ear, you found solace in the knowledge that you didn't have to face it alone.

#tvd #tvdu #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries angst #tvd angst #tvdu angst #jeremy gilbert angst #jeremy gilbert x reader smut #jeremy gilbert x reader #jeremy gilbert smut #jeremy x reader #jeremy gilbert fluff #jeremy gilbert #damon salvatore x reader #damon salvatore angst

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thebibi · 8 months

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Blatantly stole the idea from @wheresjonno whoops

#dracula daily #abraham van helsing #polls #tumblr polls #jack seward #vaguest of spoilers not really #thebibi on vampirez

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the-countess-vampira · 8 months

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Vampire hunter kit

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anonymous-dentist · 9 months

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anything about parrot duo please! preferably in the monster au, but i'm not picky

(go parrot duo!)

Roier smells like blood again. That's never a good sign.

So Jaiden sneaks down from her office, her footsteps near silent (thank you, vampire stealth.) She knows that Roier can still hear her, but that's fine. She isn't really trying to be quiet. It just makes him feel better when he gets to show off his werewolf things.

"Jaiden!" Roier calls, drawing out the '-en' at the end of her name pathetically. "Ayúdame! Help me!"

He's in the living room from the sounds of things. Bobby is still outside, too, which is probably a good thing considering how overprotective he can get, the little devil.

When Jaiden steps into the living room, she's first met by the overwhelming sight of blood spilled across their white carpet and their nice leather couch, red footsteps leading to the couch from the half-open front door.

She's then met by the sight and the pathetic whimper of her partner halfway transformed and curled up in a ball on the couch. His shirt is off and he's got it balled up in a half and pressed against what's probably a very open wound on his shoulder.

"Roier!" Jaiden gasps. She flies to his side and hovers nervously over him, her hands brushing against his skin just barely. Just barely. "What happened, oh my God, was it-"

"No, it wasn't him," Roier snaps. He looks ashamed, his pointy little wolf ears drooping sadly and his face falling. "Sorry..."

She shakes her head. "No, I don't- Roier... you said you'd stop going there, what happened?"

She briefly leaves his side just long enough to run to the downstairs bathroom and fetch their rather hefty first aid kit. She lugs it back to the living room and sets up shop, rolling her sleeves up and pulling her hair back.

Roier winces as she moves his hand and the cloth in it, but he doesn't cry. She wishes he would, but he doesn't.

"I needed the knife," he shortly says. Short as in 'ow holy fuck oh my god ow', not as in 'I'm angry and I hate you'. "Is Bobby still outside?"

"Yes, and stop moving-"

"Sorry, sorry!"

Roier stops squirming, though his ears remain flat against his skull and his tail twitches unhappily every time she touches the wound.

Roier never likes to transform in public. He doesn't really like doing it anymore, period, not since... But. But he did, probably to get away from the hunters, because he probably accidentally revealed himself again and she's gonna have to get Cucurucho to help get them under control, and-

Roier yips loudly as Jaiden slides the needle into his skin and starts stitching the wound up. His lips curled back in a pained grimace, Jaiden watches as Roier's teeth flicker between wolf-like fangs and human canines.

"Almost done," she murmurs. He forces his mouth and his eyes shut and squeezes his ruined shirt like a lifeline. "Sorry..."

"No, don't be sorry," he wheezes. "I was the one dumb enough to get stabbed, hah! But at least I got the knife, eh?"

His ears flick towards the coffee table. Jaiden doesn't have to look to know that there's a silver-coated knife laying on it. It's probably covered in blood, too.

Silver knives are hard to come by on the island. Cucurucho doesn't like having too many people have them, it doesn't like the danger it presents. And it's right to, they're dangerous.

Unfortunately, Roier is more stubborn than Cucurucho likes. But, well. What it doesn't know can't hurt it.

Jaiden finishes the stitches and snips off the last of the thread. She leans back against the table, and Roier immediately collapses back onto the couch. His body shakes like it wants to transform fully into the wolf, but he knows that doing so would just break the stitches. So he stays as he is, and Jaiden just wishes he would cry.

"Is this one for Bobby, too?" she asks.

Roier snorts dryly. "When isn't it?"

And isn't that the truth.

#asks!#monster au fic #a.d.'s fics i suppose #a.d.'s fics i suppose.

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blurredcolour · 7 months

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The Night Moves | Part Four

The Night Moves Masterlist

Alternate Universe

Vampire Hunterl!Bradley Bradshaw x Female Reader; Vampire!Jacob Seresin x Female Reader

Summary: An internship with the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History should have been the highlight of your academic career. The perfect addition to your resume while you worked on your doctoral thesis. An interdepartmental assignment, however, sees your reality ripped apart by incomprehensible forces. Five tumultuous days will leave you forever changed and inextricably linked to two men born centuries apart.

Warnings: Angst, Language, Violence, Blood, Major Character Death, Serious Reader Injury, Supernatural Themes, Historical Inaccuracies, Institutional Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes - 18+ Only

Author's Note: My Halloween party got crashed by COVID so surprise! Here is the second-last installment a few days early. Please be advised that two men go into this chapter and only one makes it out. You Have Been Warned!!

Word Count: 3933

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-Friday-

Waking the next morning to news of more murders in the neighborhood, it was no surprise that Bradley had insisted on driving you into work. It had not made the drive any less awkward, however. Loaded silence pervaded the apartment while you ate a quick breakfast and followed you into the Bronco until he had eventually surrendered to turning on the radio. You had parted with a barely audible ‘thanks’ at the curb before hurrying into work, not wanting to spend another moment in forced to be in his proximity. Tears had already broken through your resolve after you shut the bedroom door last night and you would have been loathe to give him the satisfaction of seeing fresh ones today.

Despite your intentions when declining Amira’s invite the night before, you had not taken that bath nor gone to bed early. Nor had your sleep been of any quality. Thankfully she arrived armed with an extensive make-up kit, nearly double the size of the one you had thrown into your bag that morning, and dedicated nearly all of the thirty minutes you had to get ready on making you look quite presentable. The bandage on your wrist was explained away easily as a cooking accident, though as Bradley predicted, it itched terribly. Utilizing the single-stalled washroom across the hall, you slid into the floor-length gown she had lent you, smoothing it over your curves.

You took a moment to appreciate the way the colour of it brought out your eyes. To marvel at the skill of Amira’s make-up. You looked good – vampire hunters plagued by latent professionalism be damned. Taking a deep breath and setting your chin at a confident angle you stepped out of the washroom to allow Amira a chance to change as well before the pair of you hurried to Flag Hall. Waiting there for you was the box of five hundred pouches, ready to be set out at each of the place settings on the banquet tables. Under the watchful eye of Caroline from Resource Development, one pouch was set at the top of each place, resting against the menu card, until three hundred and fifty were put out. The remainder would be given as gifts to the staff volunteering their time and a few select guests attending the cocktail hour but not staying for the seated dinner.

With that duty discharged, you were then seated at the registration table, assigned to different portions of the alphabet. You were responsible for checking in guests with last names from S to Z. The next forty-five minutes passed in a blur of greetings and checking off names before the four lists were consolidated down to one. You and Amira were released from your obligations to go enjoy the remainder of the cocktail party and she quickly disappeared into the crowd.

Snagging a glass of one from one of the circling trays, you took a fortifying sip of wine before seeking out someone you knew, grateful when one of the department heads pulled you into a conversation already in progress with a few generous donors. Disappointingly, you found your tolerance for answering the same questions, discussing the same topics, having the same conversation repeatedly as you circulated the room wore thin with shocking speed. Instead, a scream began to build in the back of your throat, begging to be unleashed, and you set your second empty wine glass down on a nearby table with a touch more force than intended before quickly making your way from the hall.

Because whatever was about to fly out of your mouth – the truth that Bradley had revealed to you last night, or perhaps your sheer frustration with him for his lack of transparency whilst toying with your affections, or better yet how frivolous this gala felt in the face of the dead bodies that seemed to be falling in your wake…well more accurately Jacob’s wake as he followed you – it most certainly did not need an audience.

Making your way through the locked doors with your swipe card back to the sanctity of your workspace, you felt the urge to wail lessen the further you got away from the crowd. The frantic pace of your steps eased. Perhaps it was just time to go home. Sighing the last of the tension from your body, you opened the door to the intern office and nearly tripped over your dress as the long-legged lieutenant sat, swivelling idly in your computer chair.

“Ah.” He grinned broadly and stood smoothly, obviously having been waiting for you. His eyes raked over your form as he drank in your appearance. “You look truly divine this evening, pet.”

Stumbling backward, you winced as the harsh edges of the door frame jabbed into your shoulder blade. “What are you doing in here…how did you…” Your pulse rabbited in your throat as it felt terribly difficult to take a deep breath. His clothing had changed – a dress shirt that fit him perfectly, hinting at the musculature that lay beneath, and a pair of black slacks with a charcoal grey pea coat hanging open over top. No doubt stolen from one of the many corpses he had been leaving in your neighborhood, your mind supplied, causing your palms to grown damp with fear.

“Easy, pet, I missed you. There is no need to be quite so afraid.” Jacob soothed, stepping closer.

You shook your head violently. “I know what you are.” You hissed and pressed tighter to the door frame, away from him, legs wobbling slightly beneath your dress. You glanced behind him to your desk where your phone was locked away in a drawer…Bradley might as well have been on the moon for how easily you could reach him now. Yet thinking of your usual savior also brought with it a new bitterness that had you furrowing your brows.

“Then you know what I want.” Jacob murmured, stalking closer to trail a frigid forefinger down your cheek.

Your eyes flicked to his face, focusing on his unnaturally luminous green eyes as you swallowed nervously. “Were,” you began, hesitated, but set your jaw in determination and continued, “were you really there?”

He arched an eyebrow, silently prompting you to expound on your question.

“During the War of Independence?” You clarified, sinking your teeth into your lower lip anxiously as he was awfully close and more than a little lethal.

His eyes glinted ominously as he seized upon something you desired. “I most certainly was. Born in 1760, came of age in the thick of it. Why do you ask?” He tilted his head in feigned innocence.

You exhaled shakily, trying desperately to smother your excitement at the idea of a firsthand source for a long passed historical era. Yet as you attempted to focus on Bradley’s warning that the man who had lived through that time period had been murdered to give birth to the creature before you, all you felt was the sting of his rejection. The questions you longed to pose to the lieutenant were endless. Right before you was a once in a lifetime opportunity to learn from someone who had been there.

“You are fairly teeming with questions, are you not, pet?” There was a derogatory edge to his tone. A smugness at having sniffed out something you desired. “The information only I could provide would certainly be quite the feather in your cap. Surely would secure your place within this palace of stolen things.” He smirked, drawing your gaze to his striking white teeth.

Reluctantly, you nodded, lips pressed together tightly in a thin line. “Yes.” You admitted in a hushed whisper after a moment.

“It seems to me, darling, that we have an opportunity before us. There is something that I greatly desire from you…” He paused, eyes taking a moment to drink in the column of your throat. “…and you in kind from myself. Shall we not make a deal?” He raised an eyebrow.

Alarm bells rung distantly in your consciousness as your hands fisted into the fabric of your dress, awareness of his true nature warring with the desire to learn all that you could from him. A war taking place on an internal battlefield muddled by whatever mental impairment his very presence seemed to inflict upon you. The sound of a door opening down the hall jarred both of you and he looked to you sharply.

“Might we take this somewhere more private?” He asked hurriedly.

“Not my house.” You replied reflexively, able to keep some sense of clarity and recall Bradley’s insistence from the night before. “A hotel.” You nodded to yourself before pushing off the doorframe, past the lieutenant, and toward your desk.

Grabbing a fresh notebook, your phone, extra charger, and shoving it all into your bag, you threw on your jacket before leading him out the delivery entrance. Purposefully avoiding any and all prying eyes – particularly Bradley’s. As you walked, you retrieved your phone to pull up a hotel booking site, snagging a last-minute deal on a room a few blocks away. It was by no means glamorous – a dated, two-star hotel, but all you needed was a place to make a deal with a murderous creature. You did not need to also break the bank to do it.

Fog swirled around the hem of your dress with each step you took as you glanced around nervously, for once hoping not to see any trace of Bradley Bradshaw. The humidity had combined with the frigid air to create an unsettling ambience and the fact that a murderer was following hot on your heels did nothing to ease your tension. You were surprised the grip you held on the pen whilst signing in at the hotel did not cause the writing implement to snap in half. The front desk clerk, mercifully, made no comment on the absence of any and all luggage, handing over the room key with no more than directions to the elevators.

The key chain bearing the room number jangled in your hand as you struggled to align it with the lock, eventually sliding it home and opening the door to a cramped, musty room with a queen size bed and small desk. Jacob slid out of his jacket, finding a hanger in the tiny closet to place it on before reaching a hand out in silent offer to do the same with yours.

You shook your head quickly in refusal and stepped over to the desk, pulling out the chair and perching on the edge of it apprehensively. Jacob chuckled easily and sat on the edge of the bed across from you. The polyester coverlet printed with a patchwork design popular from several decades previous made an aggravating swish sound against his trousers.

“Your terms?” He smirked, clearly at ease as he planted his hands behind his hips, leaning back with casual arrogance.

“Answer my questions. Truthfully.” Came your immediate reply. “As many as I can think of….”

“Within a three-hour time limit.” He countered, eyes narrowing playfully, clearly enjoying himself.

You chewed your lip, briefly concerned it would not be enough time, but the volume of questions that had been welling up inside you would ensure it would be used wisely.

You nodded before asking, “and yours?” loathing the tremble in your voice, even though you were pretty certain what he wanted.

“Let me drink my fill of you…” His voice was thick, roughened by desire, his gaze intense as he spoke.

Your throat constricted nervously, and you swallowed to clear it. “You cannot kill me…” You protested.

“No of course not.” His face took on a mask of tenderness. “What a terrible waste that would be pet…just enough to satisfy.” He assured you.

You sat on the poorly cushioned chair eyeing him warily, heart still beating at quite a steady clip as the potential terms of your agreement hung in the air, awaiting your assent. The factors at play paraded through your hindered consciousness – the danger of him, the opportunity of him, the mix of pain and pleasure offered in his bite. Your hand strayed to your inner wrist absently, scratching futilely through the bandage there. His eyes flickered down to follow the movement, lips stretching wider into a knowing grin.

Blinking in confusion you glanced down to where his gaze was aimed and huffed in frustration at yourself before thrusting your hand out to him to shake. “Deal.”

With a bemused grin he took your hand in his, grip as cold as marble as he shook in agreement.

“I would also hazard a guess that you need some food before we begin, pet? Need you to keep up your strength.” He grinned as he settled back against the headboard, legs stretched out before him.

You frowned slightly as you realized he was right – two glasses of wine and a few canapes were not going to sustain you. Rifling around on the desk you found a room service menu and called down to order the most appetizing thing they had on offer. Plugging your phone into charge, you opened the fresh notebook and started an audio recording in an app. Your last step was to set a timer for one hundred and eighty minutes before looking to the lieutenant.

“Ready?”

“Whenever you are, pet.” He nodded.

Pressing start on your timer, you asked your first question. The question that had been burning in your mind since you had first examined the artifacts three days ago. “Why did you have a coat from both sides?”

“Made my life easier. I could go wherever I wanted, do what I needed to, wearing the colours of convenience.” He answered with open honesty as you began scrawling into your notebook.

You were relieved that he was upholding his side of the bargain and yet felt an increased nervousness at the idea of having made a deal with a man without loyalties.

“What did you do during the war?”

“Joined up, of course. A group of us enlisted in the South Carolina Continental Army shortly after Independence was declared. My father was proud, my mother was less than pleased given than I was only sixteen, but we were caught up in the political fervor, desperate to join the fight that had been brewing for years. I could already shoot better than most of the recruits, and I was good with horses. It was easy to get a promotion to lieutenant. Especially when our soldiers were dropping like flies.” His tone took on an edge of bitterness that had you glancing up from your notes, but he was gazing off toward some unseen memory at the end of the bed.

“It was becoming increasingly apparent that were severely disadvantaged, particularly when it came to our leadership. The great Washington did not make his way south of Virginia, you see, we were left to fend for ourselves in an increasingly desperate fight against a superior enemy. By 1780 Charlestown had fallen to the British and I had no more interest in dying for a lost cause. I fled my post, made my way into the city to make a living off of my connections and the occupying troops desperate for the finer things that were hard to come by.”

A memory of the ledger found inside the sarcophagus, filled with its neat rows of items and prices, flitted through your mind and you swallowed. “A smuggler.”

“Some called me that, yes.” Jacob chuckled, looking to you with a shrug. “I was no longer killing people, my life was more comfortable, how could it not be considered an improvement for everyone involved?”

A knock on the door, signalling the arrival of your food, startled you into scratching a jagged line of ink along the margin of your notebook. Exhaling shakily, you stood to go retrieve the tray, finding some loose bills in your bag to tip the porter, before carrying the food in and setting it on the desk. Finding the small room overly warm, you shrugged out of your coat at last, not missing the way Jacob’s eyes traced every inch of skin revealed to him by the action.

“Where did you grow up?” You asked your next question, hoping to divert his attention and not waste any more time than you already had.

Alternating between taking notes and eating bites of your rapidly cooling food, you covered all manner of topics from his upbringing to the ins-and-outs of eighteenth-century smuggling. Your notebook grew increasingly full, the pages curling slightly from your frantic shorthand highlighting thoughts and ideas born from his answers, not wanting to miss any details even though you knew it was also being recorded.

“How did you become a vampire?” You asked just as your alarm chimed and you frowned in dismay. How could three hours have passed already…

“I will give you that one, pet, because I am a man of honor.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed, sitting up to face you properly. “My trade had me working with all manner of people, procuring all sorts of items. That is where I first encountered the children of the night. I provided them with what I thought was traditional evening entertainment, but they were soon having me disposing of the leftover pale corpses with ravaged throats. After much persuasion they promised me eternal life…” He laughed bitterly.

“I had barely paid the price of high-value Continental Army information – no sooner had I been turned when the ancestors of your handsome Bradley,” you breath hitched in your throat and his eyes flashed with irritation “showed up for all of us. They promised me a way out, passage back to England. They locked me in that box with my consent. With the understanding that I would be freed as soon as I was aboard a ship out of this place. But instead, I lay there forgotten, my veins running dry, rasping against my skin until I could no longer keep my eyes open. Until a few days ago when your sweet blood fell upon my lips, bringing me back. Now,” his eyes darkened as he stood, looming over you, “you have had your fun. It is my turn.”

He leaned forward, lips parted, baring elongated fangs as he prepared to bite your neck, but you planted a firm hand against his chest, pen still threaded through your fingers. “Wait…s…somewhere it can’t be seen….” You pleaded shakily.

He pulled back with a growing smirk before sinking to his knees before you, fingers seeking the skin of your ankles beneath your dress. He chuckled as you jumped slightly at his cool touch, watching with bated breath as his hands rose up your legs, the hem of your dress gathering at his wrists. Your hands fell to clutch at the arm rests of the chair as he eased your knees apart, inhaling your scent greedily. You could feel each rapid beat of your heart lodged in your throat, shifting slightly at the feel of warmth gathering at the apex of your thighs, certain Jacob was more than aware of the effect his proximity was having on your traitorous body as he grew ever closer to that warmth.

With one final glance up at you he at last turned his head to sink his fangs into the supple flesh of your inner thigh. Your head fell back between your shoulders with a ragged moan, one which he echoed against your skin, your body trembling in response. A mixture of pain and pleasure rocketed through your body as he began to feed, drawing your blood from the bite wound, making you writhe beneath him. A dark chuckle rumbled through his chest as his hands moved to pin your hips, holding you in place as he swallowed greedily.

Gradually your grip on the arms of the chair weakened, the beat of your heart dropped to a normal tempo before becoming sluggish beneath your rib caged. Rolling your head forward, you feebly tried to push his mouth away, afraid he was drinking too much. The lieutenant did not budge, eyes closed in ecstasy, fingers digging into your hips almost painfully, as he continued to drink.

“Jacob…” You whimpered weakly. “We…had a deal…” You panted in an odd cocktail of frantic languidness.

A terrific thud suddenly collided with the door, but you barely had the wherewithal to flinch in reaction. It was followed by several more before the door frame gave away with the horrific screech of protesting metal and wood. Through heavy eyelids you watched a slightly winded Bradley Bradshaw hurtle into the room, his eyes quickly taking in the scene – Jacob’s position between your legs, your inability to lift your own head. In a swift movement blurred by your weakened state, he was suddenly grasping a stake in his fist, his knuckles gone white from the force with which he held the weapon. Jacob, meanwhile, remained suctioned to your flesh like an overgrown leech, oblivious to all around him.

Bradley wasted no time, drawing his arm back to gain momentum before powerfully driving the stake into Jacob’s back between his ribs. His head snapped up from your thigh with a roar, mouth and neck painted with your blood as he stumbled to his feet, reaching back for the intruding object. With one final blow of his palm to the hilt of the stake, Bradley drove the point of the wood straight through Jacob’s heart. The dying vampire gave a pathetic gasp before his entire being suddenly disintegrated before your very eyes.

Leaving you staring in lethargic shock, Bradley stepped into the tiny washroom that could barely contain his frame and gathered a towel and robe from, returning to press the rough fibres of the towel against the tender flesh. You yelped pathetically, pushing at him weakly as tears pricked your eyes. You did not have the energy to determine if they were tears of shame or tears of sadness for the pile of dust now on the carpet that had very recently been the lieutenant.

“You killed him.” You breathed faintly.

“He was killing you.” Bradley replied sharply, punctuating his statement by pulling the towel tightly around your thigh with the belt of the robe, tying a secure knot in the terrycloth.

You flinched in pain before gulping as he pulled the hem of your dress down over your legs to preserve your modesty. You vision was beginning to narrow as he leaned down to retrieve his stake, tucking it into the inside pocket of his jacket before moving to lift you into his arms, all brisk efficiency. His ability to find you in a hotel with over two hundreds of rooms, in a city full of dozens of hotels, was a puzzle you might not ever be able to solve. Least of all now with your rapidly dimming consciousness.

“Wait!” You channeled the last of bit of effort within your body towards catching his attention. “My stuff…” You gestured listlessly at your phone and notebook, wanting at the very least for this to have not been all for naught.

“You historians are really something else.” He replied gruffly before sweeping your things into your bag, hanging it from his shoulder before scooping you up, his supernatural strength making it a thing of ease as he hurried for the elevator.

“Where we goin’….” Your head lolled forward against his chest, shivering against the radiant heat of his body, barely able to form the words.

“Hospital.” He grunted before everything faded to black.

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

Read Part Five

The Night Moves Masterlist

Tag list: @moonyinthestars, @roger-that-cap, @gaminffnerd, @blckgrl-sunflower

#top gun maverick fanfiction #rooster x reader #hangman x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #jake seresin x reader #rooster x you #hangman x you #bradley bradshaw x you #jake seresin x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #vampire au #vampire hunter au

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nonetoon · 1 year

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Could we possibly get a quick rundown of the names of everyone in Florian’s story are? I’m really loving it, thank you for sharing it!!!!

Sure! So far we have:

Florian- the hero/clown

The Charmer Blade- his sword/balloon dog

Kit- the hunter and Florian’s wife

Hugo- the archer

Andre- the brawler

Pyrope- the sorceress

Stranger- Florian’s ex-nemesis

Briar- the thief/vampire assistant

Thaddeus- the vampire lord

Dionysus- the demon of comedy/tragedy that also cursed Florian

Etna- Dionysus’ henchdemon

???- the invisible person

#asks #clown curse

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ruewrote · 19 days

Text

𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑓𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑦.

PAIRING: jacob custos x fem!reader WARNINGS: jacob's bear trap injury, strong language GENRE: angst / fluff SONG INSPIRATION: start a riot by BANNERS WORD COUNT: 1010

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out of all the horror movies that you'd watch about vampires, zombies and werewolves you never thought you'd ever be in one of your own.

especially not in the summer camp that you'd grown to love over the years.

now desperately trying to find your fellow work friends, hoping that they'd gotten to safety. you silently prayed that you would too as you made your way through the thick forest to the main lodge.

the emergency fire axe felt heavy in your hand, your skin covered in dried mud and blooming bruises. fuck this night, fuck everything.

every little sound terrifying you, not realizing how loud everything used to be until now. whether that be the crunch of twigs underneath your boots or the whoosh of the wind.

"ah fuck! ah shit!" someone whimpered in pain, moving closer as you readied the axe, moving through the trees to find jacob and an old guy with a sniper rifle with his back to you.

"look if you could just--" jacob begged, but soon stopped when you knocked the hunter out with the back of your axe.

"holy shit!" your breath staggered as you dropped to your knees, inspecting the bear trap that had clamped itself around jacobs ankle, surprised that he was even conscious. oh right , adrenaline.

"oh my god, am i happy to see you right now!" he shouts, but is quickly cut off with your hand tightly covering his mouth.

"you've got to be quiet. something is out here with us, i’m not quite sure what, but i've also got to try and pry this open. whatever you do, you've got to be silent. we can't attract more attention to ourselves, okay?" you whisper, earning a timid nod from him.

removing your hand you get to work, glad to have accidentally watched that documentary a while back you were able to press the two spring levers, making it fall open.

you were quick to grab him before he lost his balance, helping him stand, wrapping his arm around your shoulders for support and yours firmly wrapped around his waist. making a slight mental note to ask why he was practically naked later.

helping him back to the lodge for some sort of first aid. the two of you walking in tandem, your grip on him tightening as he wobbled trying to hold back his groans. you reached up for his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. jacob giving you a tight but appreciative smile in return.

your legs ache when you finally reach the building, carefully sitting jacob down on the bench in the kitchen, grabbing the first aid kit out of the cupboard, a fresh glass of water and the paper towels off of the rack.

"i’m not even going to sugarcoat this, this is gonna hurt like a bitch. but i promise i'm gonna try to be as careful as i can, okay?" you uttered and he nodded.

you began to unbuckle your belt, unlooping it before holding it out to him, jacob grabbed a hold of it confused, "to bite down on, worst case,"

not caring if it was dirty or not he bit down on it, letting out a sigh you picked up the glass of water, pouring it around the wound, using a piece of the tissue to swipe away the dirt. briefly looking up to see his hands squeeze the wood underneath him.

wincing for him, you opened a disinfectant wipe wasting no time to swipe it around his injury, making him let out a whine. stopping for a second to place your hand over his.

causing him to look down at you with tears in his eyes, your heart breaking for him. "i know, i'm so sorry. all i gotta do is wrap it up. it shouldn't hurt too bad,"

and so you did, your belt now back to holding up your shorts as you looked through the pantry for any sort of food. making sure that jacob stayed sat down even though he wanted to help.

"a-ha!" you announced, grabbing the unopened box of cereal bars, returning to jacob. "how long do you think they've been in there?" he joked.

"after tonight i think the last thing we have to worry about is expiration dates, but of course i checked and they're okay, actually relatively new so we're good."

handing him one then another for yourself, shoving the rest in your backpack. retrieving the oversized hoodie offering it to him.

"quick question, where are your clothes?"

"me and emma went swimming in the lake for old times sake, until we heard abi scream. well at least i did, emma kinda disappeared after that." his words coming out huffed as he pulled the clothing over his head.

you looked down and started playing with your hands, trying to hide the hurt on your face. of course he was with her! what were you expecting? the whole summer you had been crushing on him, having to stay quiet about it because of her.

"oh. well i'm sure she's okay, she's...strong ya know?" you offered him a small smile.

"thank you by the way," he started, your eyebrows furrowed. "with saving me back there and you patching me up. i swear i was about to die!"

he playfully knocked his shoulder into yours, looking at him concerned, "don't joke like that. i-i don't think i could handle that... losing you i mean." a frown now replaced your smile from just thinking about it.

"hey, hey. i'm not going anywhere, well not if i have a say in it anyways." he leans into you, making you look back up at him.

the way his eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips, made your breath hitch as he leaned closer, lips almost touching when you heard a girl's scream.

"emma?" jacob jumps up and limps out of the lodge, leaving you sitting there alone feeling your heartache and the tears sting in your eyes.

who were you kidding yourself? he'd always pick her.

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