simmer down, keep your head down low

[voodooqueer]

Getting the short end of it again. That fucking figures.

Should've known that there would be more surprises waiting for his ass in Darrow. Why stop at regular fucking vampires that suck your blood, when you could have crazy weird fucking psychic vampires that do their best to scare the fuck out of you and then eat your emotions?

It's happening, and it's happening to Lafayette. The bitch had him pinned, grinding the soft skin of his cheek against the grain of the brick wall at his side in the alley as she shoved him against it roughly with a strength he should expect by now. It still scares the liuving fuck out of him.

"Bitch," he grinds out. "I told you, I ain't fuckin' interested in women, so go fuck wif' someone else." He takes a shuddering breath. It's cold as hell and has been for a few days, and the air burns Lafayette's lungs and makes raising his voice to shout for help nearly impossible after his struggle. Though as she laughs and shoves him harder, trying to meet his eyes so she can dig in his brain for whatever his greatest fear or whatever the hell she'd said was, he finds at least the renewed strength to struggle, kneeing her in the kidneys.

Maybe it won't do shit, but he'll be damned if he's gonna make being someone's dinner enjoyable. "Get off, bitch."

Comments

[bloodyanimal]

"You know, love," Spike said, curling a hand in the back of the woman's jacket and hauling her, snarling, off of her victim, "Bloke or not, no still means no."

He hurled her, and she flew across the alley, her back slamming hard enough into the bricks that he heard a few of them crack. She landed on her knees, panting, but certainly wasn't down for the count.

When he went for her, she was unsurprisingly all fingernails and gnashing teeth, though her strength spoke of years beyond what he normally came across in Darrow. "You might as well accept it," he said to her, his hand closing around her throat, pinning her to the wall. She opened a wound on his cheek, cool blood sliding down over his chin, though he hardly noticed. "You picked the wrong alley, tonight."

From his coat, he pulled a rather wicked machete, one he'd borrowed from Mike during a hunt the other day and simply hadn't returned. He took a step back, releasing his hold on her, but when she came at him, he made quick work of lopping off her head.