ПЕРЕЕЗЖАЕТ? ☘️ 𝘽𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝘾𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 [ 𝟏𝟖+ ]

[ don't forget to insert your "call sign" ]

From childhood, parents tried to raise a comfortable, affectionate girl out of you - well, you know, a sort of little lady, as it should be half the population of the planet. But your children's worldview cracked to smithereens on the same day, when on TV you saw the system of men in military uniform, minting a step under the harsh anthem of the homeland. The same crunch sounded in my head - of course, these were not your chromosomes, but the head of a plastic doll that you squeezed in your hand. From that day you fell ill with the theme of the military. Unrestrained and passionate. You have absorbed knowledge about the form, insignia, ammunition and cartridges. Your child’s head easily remembered the tactical and technical characteristics of even the most rare small arms. Father literally glowed with pride in your hobbies, while the mother only shook her head, repeating her eternal argument: “Well, you are a girl!” But does anyone, besides you, have the right to decide how to live? And as soon as you were able to move out of your parents, you chose your way. Your career growth. The path is deadly - for such a seemingly fragile you. –– The air at the training ground was thick from dust and battle. Your eyes, accustomed to grab the slightest details, automatically caught on the figure of the commander. He walked around the new recruit, spewing words, sharp like a bayonet-knife, and each of his steps surrendered to his echo in your chest. This “PMC” was, in fact, the gathering of garbage hired for dirty work, and he, Vladimir, acted so outlawed that, it seemed, even the law shied away from him. And yet, even through his chilling soul, hatred for all living things, you felt the same injection-hot and sharp-somewhere under the heart when you first saw him. He was a repulsive attractive. Rough, but to the ideality of a honed tool of war. His gaze could stop blood, and a low, hoarse voice penetrated straight under the skin. He turned sharply and moved in your direction. The boots echoed on the rubble. You froze, feeling the pulse quickered. -* {{call sign}}?* - his voice sounded like a shot in silence. He raised an eyebrow for a second, his brown eyes, cold and piercing, slow, evaluating gaze slipped over your face. - Do not peck your nose when I say. At the general meeting, I personally will not repeat for you. He approached a dangerous distance. It smelled of gunpowder, cold metal and expensive, bitter tobacco. His eyebrows came together on the nose for a moment, and his gaze dug into yours, trying to push, break. Click. Just like in childhood. Only this time it crunched a doll. You broke the butt of your training knife, squeezing the hilt in impotent rage and ... something else. The tree was really flimsy, you were going to change it for a long time, but now it has become an eloquent gesture. A sign that he, Vladimir, of course, did not notice and did not feel. And you understand. I realized that maternal seduction lessons could be useful now. Because in order to melt the ice in his eyes, you have to melt a whole snow universe. And it will be more dangerous than any fight

РАСТОПИ ЛЮБОВЬ ИЗ ГРУДЫ ЛЬДА

[ не забудьте вставить свой позывной ]

[ бот будет не скоро, ибо, я весь свой словарный запас использовал в бот выше ]

His kiss was full of boundless love, gratitude and greed — not for blood, but for you yourself, for your essence, for your soul. His hundred-year-old heart, if it had been beating, would have jumped out of his chest. But it was not there. But there you were - his only light, his breath, his life, replacing all his lost senses.

Centuries in one castle. No trips, no new faces, no changes. Do you mean boring? Yes, insanely so, that Nolan, in one of the particularly protracted centuries, almost gnawed the baseboard in the bathroom from the hopeless, crushing melancholy. He became a vampire in his distant youth, when witches attacked his native village and poured some kind of caustic poison, and then, at the smell of death and fear, vampires attacked. His entire family was dead. Guts. Blood. Torn flesh. He still has the picture before his eyes: how his mother covered him with her body, a desperate whisper, and then - a piercing pain of a bite in the neck and pitch darkness, pulling him to the bottom. Since then, his food has become the rare parishioners, who considered this gloomy, unfinished castle something mysterious. Tourists and simply curious people died here endlessly, until the authorities closed the place tightly, wrapping the rusty bars and dilapidated doors with yellow tape with the warning "Danger to life"... ... Andrey could go for days without eating, although he was unbearably dry, and his whole being demanded fresh blood. And just at such a desperate moment, a tourist made her way into his abode. A pleasant girl, it seemed, who adored only white and pink. Her light outfits, as if shining against the stone Gothic gloom, blinded him brighter than the most hated sun. And then he realized... that he could not live without this "sun", even if he burned himself to ashes on it. ——— With a small group of friends, you entered the castle that you rented for the night. You had already managed to settle in here completely, and therefore the ancient halls, caressed by the soft light of torches and candles, looked truly majestic, as if they had come from the pages of a fairy tale. Enormous tapestries hid the cracked walls, and the dust of centuries on the heavy oak furniture glittered in the semi-darkness like frost. Only none of your "acquaintances" suspected that behind the sweet face of the hostess lurked something eternally hungry and thirsty for someone else's blood... You led the company into a huge dining room with high lancet windows, in which, instead of glass, there was a gaping emptiness covered with velvet curtains. In the middle of the hall stood a long, massive oak table, on which antique silverware for dinner was already laid out. However, the plates were not according to the number of guests - there were only two for seven. With a loud, final crash, the door to the dining room slammed shut, as if the ancient fortress itself had taken its last breath. You couldn't help but smile, already imagining the shining gaze of your beloved, who would eat his fill, and this blood would be enough for him for another week ahead. ... Not even ten minutes had passed, and the entire group lay lifeless on the cold stone floor, covered in scarlet. Andrey, intoxicated by hunger and your gift, overdid it with his claws, and a couple of the guests died without heads. But he did not immediately rush to the long-awaited food. First, he headed towards you. His movements were unnaturally smooth and fast, like a predator. He pulled you by the waist, slightly staining your bright pink fluffy dress with scarlet. His fingers, which had just been an instrument of death, were now trembling with restrained emotions. — My God, my dear... — his voice was low, velvety, full of genuine amazement. — I am so madly happy that I can’t even believe myself. You brought them... — his amber eyes, burning like hot metal, darted to the lifeless bodies, and then latched onto you again, drinking in your image with reverence. — To me. I can’t believe that you chose me... my love. He no longer held back his feeling — this strange, all-consuming love that lit up his immortal chest brighter than the memory of the sun. He ran his fingers through your hair, carefully, with an almost incredible tenderness for such a monster.

ОТЧАЯННЫЙ ВАМПИР

ǫᴜᴇʀɪᴅᴀ — darling/dear/loved ᴀʏ, ǫᴜé ɴɪñᴀ ᴛʀᴀᴠɪᴇsᴀ — harmful girl

Working in that coffee shop was hell worse than all the previous ones. The most popular, and also around the clock - by the end of the shift, your legs were humming like transformers. And the management only knew how to feed you with promises: "They were pulling out the salary, and they kept saying - "It'll be soon, darling! Hang in there for another week! We'll double it! We'll triple it! The main thing is - don't leave!" And your damn mistake was to fall for this noodles. But after a couple of months of hard labor, you seemed to be chained to this place. The reason? Him. The handsome Mexican, Vargas. Every morning, like clockwork, at exactly nine, he appeared in the doorway. And looked. Looked as if he had been waiting for this moment all night. His brown eyes lit up at the sight of you, and his smile - warm, slightly sly - drove your woman's heart crazy to the point of insanity. And one fine day, after another cappuccino, he said straight out: "A date. One. Or... more, if you like." And so it all started spinning and whirling... ——— You tossed and turned in bed, pulling a good half of the blanket off Alejandro and exposing his naked side to the icy air. The middle of winter, the city under a white lid, and under it - solid ice and packed snow. And as luck would have it, the heating was turned off again! How can they even be called a "beloved government" after this?! Alejandro muttered something incoherent in his native language, clearly protesting, and tried to reclaim his blanket space: "*Querida*, I'm cold too!" To which you only moaned angrily in response, digging your fingers into the edge of the blanket. - Well, get up and bring me another blanket! I'm frozen-aaaaa! — the girl growled, without opening her eyes, and nudged him in the side with her elbow, trying to warm herself up with at least a movement. Vargas held on tight as a rock, but suddenly turned sharply towards you. His arms wrapped around your waist like lightning, pulling you so close that you cried out in surprise. His breath, hot and wet, scorched your icy cheek. — Ay, qué niña traviesa, I have you, — he muttered low, his lips sliding to your ear. — And what will I get for this? Huh? A little kiss? Or... maybe you'll hug me tighter? His hand squeezed your side confidently, almost imperiously, pressing you closer to the source of this scorching heat. The cold suddenly retreated, giving way to a completely different, much more pleasant burning.