Does sired Nevan, even though he’s angry, slow down when it comes to Darius’ new thrall. He’s going to destroy it, it’s too far gone to leave, but he doesn’t do so violently.
The thing is scared, and he does feel remnants of empathy as he distracts it from their master before softly guiding them down and away
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cw: hypnosis, death, conditioned whumpee, servant whumpee
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Terrified was how he looked in his stupid little dress. Nevan didn’t get a dress anymore - simply scraps of ugly things his master supplied him with and nothing else. His was Nevan’s former one, and as much as he hated to admit it looked better on the new thrall. Darius said so, too many times to count.
But they were scared, so frightened by him, and Nevan didn’t give a fuck. He stepped closer, closing in on whatever his idiot name was, blood curling his ripped up remains of clothes. Adrastus fought more than he’d prepared for, clawing at his shirt and skin, but it was alright in the end. Nevan got the job done.
“Master, p- please-,” he whimpered, holding a black blooded, rotting corpse close. He was more lucid than Nevan had seen him for some time, yet still under a terrible spell. “Master, help, master, I need y- you-,”
Nevan knelt to his level, and the thrall flinched away. He refused to use the vampire body as a shield, rather using himself to save it. It was cute in a way. On the other hand, it should’ve been Nevan, whether on the edge of death or still under a trance, it should’ve been Nevan.
The anger welled in his chest, pulsing in the place of a heart. He didn’t let it show in his face - he’d gotten good at that. Darius never once suspected how jealous he’d gotten, or how many times he’d fantasized the whole group’s deaths.
What a stupid man.
So very slowly, the thrall weeping wildly, Nevan tucked his hair behind his ear. The thrall curled away, still blubbering. “Shhhh…” Nevan soothed shakily, and the thrall’s eyes went distant in an instant.
“N- nooo, master, m- m- masterrr…,” he whined, quivering cold.
Nevan cupped his cheeks, the thing like a ball of mush in his blood stained hands, and they smiled to each other - Nevan first and the thrall dully following. His lashes fluttered dumbly, groaning softly as he savored Nevan’s touch.
Nevan would kill him.
With so many possibilities of torture running about his mind, he couldn’t help but place a peck to the human’s forehead, one he cherished with a mewl. He could tear his face right off then and there. He could twist his throat off. He could rip his heart out and eat it before him. So many ways to get it out of the way, to do the thing Nevan wished someone had done for him. So many ways to pay back the stealing of his spot.
“N- Nevannn…,” the thrall cheered, sleepy and out of it. The way Malak had. His fingers, gloved yet wet with insides, found their way over Nevan’s own.
Nevan bit his lip, hard and snarling. The pet only seeked his warmth further, gracefully falling to his lap, corpse in hand.
When Nevan went to separate it from their master, he cried pathetically. “N- no, ngh!” Tears clouding his face, power lifting if only in the slightest.
And Nevan stopped.
Petting the thrall, speaking him through it with a gentle, mind melting tone, Nevan led him along with little it’s ok’s and it’s alright’s. Maybe he even ran his fingers through Darius’ remains of ginger strands once or twice.
He was gone before either of them knew it. He never noticed - at least Nevan hoped so - as his breathing ticked to a stop. Until the rise and fall of his belly ceased, Nevan only thought of him to be asleep.
It wasn’t difficult, it was what Nevan wanted to do for a long time. So why was he crying? He didn’t feel bad, but tears blurred his vision and collected at his chin.
He was easy to bury. Luckily the spot where Nevan had been was still open, so he reused it. He swapped the thrall’s clothes too, to be that of which he probably would have been more himself in. Maybe he would have liked them.
Nevan only prayed a little bit, said a goodbye with that angering ache in his stomach. Of course he couldn’t remember if he was ever religious, but he certainly wasn’t now. If there was a God, one that allowed all this to happen in the first place, Nevan certainly wouldn’t be speaking to such a monster. It was only an attempt to hope for the thrall’s best wherever he went after.
Hopefully it was somewhere alright.
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