biteforblood

[biteforblood]

[ ASHER’S NECKLACES ] asher x baaabe.

✶ notes : gn!reader, fluff, 18+, romantic relationship, collar / collaring, choking, 0.4k

asher has and wears a lot of necklaces. and when i say necklace, i don’t just mean a long piece of jewelry with something dangling at the bottom, no no no. i’m referring to…a choker. a chain. a collar. a hand. all four of which look positively stunning wrapped around the beta’s neck.

he owns many many many chokers ; different styles and aesthetics, different materials, different sizes in width. one of his — and baaabe’s as well…and mine — is this choker made up of a string of white pearls. it’s thin and delicate, if pulled a little too hard, it would break and fall apart.

but…it also looks so beautiful against his tanned skin. asher loves to carefully toy with the beads, tracing over them and rolling them between his fingers absentmindedly. it never fails to draw baaabe’s eyes to both the choker and his neck.

he also has a few chain necklaces thrown into the mix. he typically wears a thin, short gold chain. there’s nothing fancy or special about it, it’s a simple, plain, ‘goes with everything’ kind of accessory. that being said…baaabe still finds fun in curling a finger underneath it to pull him in closer; fixing it when the latch slides down over to the front; watching it dangle and sway back and forth over their eyes as their mate towers over them, mouth open and heavy eyes lidded.

but above the pearls and chains and everything else, one of asher’s top favorite necklaces…is no other than his collar. he owns quite a collection, in fact. some for casual wear, some for more…special occasions. an array of pastel and dark colors, bejeweled and bare, lined with fur and plain leather. but for now…we’ll focus on one in particular.

a thick strip of baby blue leather, hand stitched with white thread. a row of sharp silver spikes that wrap around to the back, alternating in size between tall and short. the softest fluffy white fur lining the inside, hiding all the bites and bruises painting his skin. and, to top it off…a tag attached to the ring in the shape of a dog bone, engraved into the golden medal…babe’s puppy.

……you’re still here? it’s done, it’s over.

……oh, i did say ‘one of’….didn’t i?

that’s because there is one other thing than a collar that asher loves fastened around his pretty neck…and that is his mate’s hand. the culprit alongside their teeth and lips behind the bite marks and hickies and small crescents he bears so proudly. he loves to have their hand on his throat ; palm pressing down and fingers gripping tightly, nails scraping at skin and fingertips tracing muscles. the electric shivers that never fail to run down the length of his space. paired with the smirk it brings to baaabe’s lips.

perfection.

[biteforblood]

well, hello there :)

[biteforblood]

[ WEDNESDAY ] david x angel.

✶ notes : gn!reader, domestic morning fluff, pet names ( handsome ), 0.7k

bzzz…bzzz…bzzz.

angel’s phone shakes on the edge of the nightstand, alarm screaming for them to wake up. david grumbles into his pillow with discontent, brows pushing together as he fights hard to ignore the disruption. normally, they would snooze it almost immediately, but a minute passes and it continues to ring.

“shut that damn thing off, will you?”

no response.

he tries again, a bit more heft behind his voice. “angel.”

still no response.

“hey.” rolling onto his back, he blindly tosses an arm over them only to grab at empty space. his eyes crack open to find if they are, in fact, missing from bed. he should have noticed the lack of body heat pressed flush against him sooner. they never could seem to let him go when he would leave early in the morning for work.

but today isn’t a work day; it’s a wednesday, one of his few blessed ones away from it all where he can spend his time preferably doing what he wants. and yet, the one person he would like to spend his day with is notably absent.

he stretches across their side of the bed and grabs their phone, finally quieting the alarm with a swipe of his thumb. his free hand rubs at his tired eyes, nails scratching at the stubble peppering his jaw in a five o’clock shadow.

balancing on the backs of his forearms, david pushes himself upright, covers falling down around his waist. a low grunt mumbles past his lips as his arms extend high above his head to relieve the stiff exhaustion clinging to the muscles. looking left and right, he surveys the room for a sign of angel and finds…nothing.

where could they have disappeared to?

the floorboards creak beneath his bare feet as he shuffles his way out of the bedroom and down the hallway. the closer he nears the kitchen, the stronger the rich scent of brewing coffee and buttered toast grows. he turns the corner to see them standing in front of the stove, spatula in hand and weight leaned on one hip.

so this is where they’ve gone; he should’ve guessed.

their hair is damp, tiny droplets dripping onto the old t-shirt of his they most definitely swiped when he wasn’t looking. sunlight pours in from the window above the sink and drapes them in gold. the sizzle of food and purr of the coffee machine timidly interrupt the otherwise undisturbed quiet.

heavy footsteps thumping against the floor, he drags himself up close behind them, arms looping around their stomach. he squeezes them back into him as his head ducks into the curve of their shoulder.

“he lives.” they free hand runs through his already ruffled hair. “sleep well?”

“i was before a certain someone decided they no longer wanted to without telling me.”

a light chuckle shakes their breath. “aw, ‘m sorry handsome. at least you had my alarm for some company.”

david’s head lifts from it’s hiding spot to send a hard glare in their direction. angel’s giggles bubble into full belly laughter, their head tipping back against him. cupping his cheek, they lean in to press an apologetic kiss to his jaw, then another to his lips,. he steals a few more before letting them turn away.

“any plans for your rare day off? aside from dragging me back to bed to sleep some more.”

it’s his turn to laugh this time, a short puff of air through his nose that tickles their cheek. he offers a plain, “mmm.”

they’re quick to fill in the quiet. “ well, i think staying in for the day sounds nice. that way no one really bothers us, we can relax, and most importantly, i can have you,” they grab the hand resting below their chest, fingers sliding into the space between his, “all to myself.”

he doesn’t fight the smile that brightens his tired features; if angel notices, and he’s sure they do, given the tiny twitch at the corners of their mouth, they don’t say anything. sighing deeply, he turns and places a long kiss to their temple. “then a day alone for us it is.”

© biteforblood. please do not translate, repost, or redistribute in any way on any platform.

[biteforblood]

Honey and Guy radiate black cat and orange cat energy. I will not be making any further statements.

[biteforblood]

[ GROCERIES #1 ] the damn crew.

✶ notes : gn!reader, silly chaotic fluff, stupid long hcs, 0.6k

damien is prepared. he has a budget and full, detailed list of which he is determined to stick to and complete and will not get distracted from. he knows what aisles to go down for each item. he’s quick, efficient, bit peeved cause…people, especially when they’re in his way. which they are. a lot

huxley is hopping between the group ; he wanders aimlessly through the store with freelancer, helps lasko find and pick out specific brands of things he needs, messes around and causes a respectful ruckus with gavin, pushes the grocery cart around for damien

you cannot tell me gavin isn’t either a) hiding in places he shouldn’t be like in clothing racks or behind displays or b) sitting down somewhere he also shouldn’t be on like pallets or in the shelves ( y’know, like the water and paper towel…shelves? )

like damien, lasko has a list, but unlike the fire elemental, he doesn’t stick to it as firmly. he really does try to, and for the majority if not the entirety of it, he does! lasko also just…kind of…grabs other things as well that aren’t on his list. that, or is convinced by a certain incubus or freelancer to…it’s sooo fiiine

freelancer is one of two ways when shopping : the tired “parent” trying and failing to keep all their kids and boyfriend wrangled in, or one of the kids being unsuccessfully wrangled in. really depends on their mood. that, and who they’re shopping with or lack thereof

the group is forbidden from the snack aisle — at least until the very end — because it’s the one they splurge on the most. everyone’s getting something, if not multiple things, and it’s just the unhealthiest amount of chips and sugar that half of will likely be gone by the end of the night

when freelancer isn’t shopping or being carried by gavin or huxley, they’re being rolled around in the cart like the passenger princess ( gender neutral ) they are

gavin is just…picking up things from shelves and displays that he doesn’t need nor want, then putting it back where it doesn’t belong

and, yes, this irks the hell out of damien ( and as someone who has worked retail, i’m going to strangle you gavin, i swear— )

you remember when you were little and you’d go grocery shopping with your parents or friends, and you had to go to the bathroom really bad so everyone goes together, then when you came back out of the bathroom, everyone just magically disappeared?

yeah, that happens every single time they all go shopping together. without fail. and the person who is left behind changes each time, it’s never consistent, only the ( accidental ) abandonment is

as said at the beginning, huxley pushes around the cart. not solely for damien, but in general. or, if they choose a basket instead, he’s carrying that, or, hell, he’ll just carry whatever it is they’re grabbing in his arms, cart or basket be damned cause who needs one, he’s got this!

similarly…ish, when they’ve gotten all that they do and don’t need and checked out, cart or basket if they used one has been returned, the boys — sometime freelancer, when they aren’t being ref — will make a competition out of seeing who can carry the most bags to the car without dropping or breaking anything

and you’re probably thinking huxley wins every time, and he certainly has! but you cannot tell me that freelancer hasn’t wiped the floor with all of them as well

is it because the boys let them win? maybe. doesn’t make it any less funny a thought or any less sweet a victory that they gleefully rub in each of their faces

© biteforblood. please do not translate, repost, or redistribute in any way on any platform.

[biteforblood]

[ HEADCANONS #3 ] various.

✶ notes : gn!reader, “fluff”, cursing, brief mention of a knife, regulus, 0.4k

caelum has really fluffy, really curly baby pink hair

darlin’ is so bad about asking for help when they’re injured, this we already know after the whole bleeding on sam’s couch incident. but. it goes beyond the big moments, it also applies to the smaller ones ; the paper cuts, the slips of the knife, the migraines, ….

sam, david, asher, whoever it is has to damn near fight tooth and nail just to get them to say where it hurts, then from there it’s practically pulling teeth to get the why, how bad, how long, so on

gavin is always touching fl. i don’t just mean like thighs or arms pressed together, knee bumping against theirs, though that is some of the ways. no, i mean like an arm around their waist or shoulders, hand on their thigh or lower back, fingers laced together

he has to have at least one hand on them at all times, if not both when possible. and, yes, this does become a good problem very quickly ( this also applies to the other clingy bois )

guy is an ass man. argue with the wall. it’s basically canon >:p ( /hj )

regulus talks in his listener’s head, but i feel like if they ( we? ) were to actually physically see him that, when he’s talking, his mouth is like right next to their ear. like, his head is next to theirs, he whispers and growls right into their ear, eyes half-closed yet staring into theirs, his expression occasionally tightening or hardening when his control slips

similarly, when his voice takes on that growl, i imagine his face…darkens or distorts, like a shadow over his face or a screen glitching and bugging out ; it’s as if his eyes haven’t properly loaded, his smile is too big and sharp

david and asher have definitely kissed before ; maybe it was a dare, maybe they were drunk, maybe they were curious. don’t know the specifics, but those to have so kissed before

likes anton, damien loves animals — especially birds and bugs. he can identify the species, has memorized their latin names and facts about them, knows where they’re commonly found

uh, however, he does not like spiders ( back on my projecting .3. ) deathly afraid, fucking despises them, even the little bitty ones. huxley has to come and get every single one while damien stands as far away as possible

speaking of huxley and spiders actually, he is the only one out of the damn crew ( aside from coworker maybe ) who isn’t scared of spiders and is okay to go near them. everyone else? fuck no.

© biteforblood. please do not translate, repost, or redistribute in any way on any platform.

[biteforblood]

i was driving with my dad earlier today and almost called the median, the strip between the lanes you pull into to switch lanes, the meridian

[biteforblood]

i love the listeners given pet names, but i love it more when the bois use baby~

[biteforblood]

[ WEDNESDAY ] david x angel.

✶ notes : gn!reader, domestic morning fluff, pet names ( handsome ), 0.7k

bzzz…bzzz…bzzz.

angel’s phone shakes on the edge of the nightstand, alarm screaming for them to wake up. david grumbles into his pillow with discontent, brows pushing together as he fights hard to ignore the disruption. normally, they would snooze it almost immediately, but a minute passes and it continues to ring.

“shut that damn thing off, will you?”

no response.

he tries again, a bit more heft behind his voice. “angel.”

still no response.

“hey.” rolling onto his back, he blindly tosses an arm over them only to grab at empty space. his eyes crack open to find if they are, in fact, missing from bed. he should have noticed the lack of body heat pressed flush against him sooner. they never could seem to let him go when he would leave early in the morning for work.

but today isn’t a work day; it’s a wednesday, one of his few blessed ones away from it all where he can spend his time preferably doing what he wants. and yet, the one person he would like to spend his day with is notably absent.

he stretches across their side of the bed and grabs their phone, finally quieting the alarm with a swipe of his thumb. his free hand rubs at his tired eyes, nails scratching at the stubble peppering his jaw in a five o’clock shadow.

balancing on the backs of his forearms, david pushes himself upright, covers falling down around his waist. a low grunt mumbles past his lips as his arms extend high above his head to relieve the stiff exhaustion clinging to the muscles. looking left and right, he surveys the room for a sign of angel and finds…nothing.

where could they have disappeared to?

the floorboards creak beneath his bare feet as he shuffles his way out of the bedroom and down the hallway. the closer he nears the kitchen, the stronger the rich scent of brewing coffee and buttered toast grows. he turns the corner to see them standing in front of the stove, spatula in hand and weight leaned on one hip.

so this is where they’ve gone; he should’ve guessed.

their hair is damp, tiny droplets dripping onto the old t-shirt of his they most definitely swiped when he wasn’t looking. sunlight pours in from the window above the sink and drapes them in gold. the sizzle of food and purr of the coffee machine timidly interrupt the otherwise undisturbed quiet.

heavy footsteps thumping against the floor, he drags himself up close behind them, arms looping around their stomach. he squeezes them back into him as his head ducks into the curve of their shoulder.

“he lives.” they free hand runs through his already ruffled hair. “sleep well?”

“i was before a certain someone decided they no longer wanted to without telling me.”

a light chuckle shakes their breath. “aw, ‘m sorry handsome. at least you had my alarm for some company.”

david’s head lifts from it’s hiding spot to send a hard glare in their direction. angel’s giggles bubble into full belly laughter, their head tipping back against him. cupping his cheek, they lean in to press an apologetic kiss to his jaw, then another to his lips,. he steals a few more before letting them turn away.

“any plans for your rare day off? aside from dragging me back to bed to sleep some more.”

it’s his turn to laugh this time, a short puff of air through his nose that tickles their cheek. he offers a plain, “mmm.”

they’re quick to fill in the quiet. “ well, i think staying in for the day sounds nice. that way no one really bothers us, we can relax, and most importantly, i can have you,” they grab the hand resting below their chest, fingers sliding into the space between his, “all to myself.”

he doesn’t fight the smile that brightens his tired features; if angel notices, and he’s sure they do, given the tiny twitch at the corners of their mouth, they don’t say anything. sighing deeply, he turns and places a long kiss to their temple. “then a day alone for us it is.”

© biteforblood. please do not translate, repost, or redistribute in any way on any platform.

[biteforblood]

i wanna hold caelum like one holds a cat up in the air

[biteforblood]

I’m not gonna fucking sugarcoat my opinions or feelings. If you sexualize children, if you write Caelum smut, if you draw Caelum smut, etc: GET THE FUCK OFF MY PAGE. UNFOLLOW ME. I don’t fucking care what your argument is, it’s invalid. He’s a fucking child. Erik literally said he would NEVER sexualize Caelum because guess what? HE IS A CHILD.

[biteforblood]

Little moments during the Inversion…

Almost everything involved with the Inversion is so big and scary and auditory but relistening my mind wandered to the smaller moments of touch…

Huxley’s hand, gentle, occasionally at the back of Damien’s neck. Pushing his head down to shield it from attack, to keep him low. Grounding him whenever he can.

Sam’s hands on Vincent’s shoulders as he talks him through sensing where Lovely is in the chaos. Keeping him there just for a moment, to make a plan.

Milo’s hands shaking as he passes David’s jacket to Angel. Their own body trembling as they hold it close to their chest. Neither of them knowing if they’ll ever get to see it’s owner alive again.

Sweetheart’s hand on Milo’s lower back. Offering what little foundation they can while he tries to help 2 panicking unempowered mates understand this new magical danger.

That same hand that will rest in the same spot— this time shakily, not long after. Trying to assess the damage while their mate is violently sick and trembling after bringing down the ward.

Vincent, as he sees the ward for the first time and realizes what it means for them tucking Lovely closer to his side. Wishing he could envelope them and keep them safe.

David gently pushing Asher’s hair off of his face, like he did when they were kids, begging his oldest and closest friend not to leave him.

Freelancer hardly ever letting Gavin go, from the second the first Ward was set. Whether that be an arm around the waist keeping him up, hands cupping his cheeks, pressing their foreheads together, hugging him around the middle. Anything to show him they were there.

The only time Freelancer let go was to try and save Xavier. Then it was Gavin’s turn to hang on.

Vincent pulling Lovely into his lap, rocking back and forth, healing magic leaking from glowing hands as he screamed for Sam— anyone- to save them.

Milo squeezing Lasko’s upper arm. Reassuring him that he CAN do this. Using his own will to convince this anxious wreak of a man that he can help save his family.

Baabe not being able to stop touching Asher when they’re reunited. Hands roaming everywhere they can reach; face, shoulders, chest, middle, his barely patched up scars. Just needing to reassure themself that he really is here.

Just the small moments between people going through the worst moment of their lives and trying desperately to find comfort and connection wherever they can.

[biteforblood]

bro…i don’t remember camelopardalis being so…painful.

[biteforblood]

i’m gonna be honest with you darlings…i gave up on ivan

[biteforblood]

ivan : “i don’t feel comfortable taking them off until i’m sure you’re gonna do the right thing once you’re loose.”

me : I DON’T FEEL COMFORTABLE HAVING THEM ON

ivan : “oh, come on, i know they’re not that uncomfortable.”

me : :D …really? okay, how about i tie your ass up then, huh?

[biteforblood]

ivan : “oh, come on, i know they’re not that uncomfortable.”

me : :D …really? okay, how about i tie your ass up then, huh?

[biteforblood]

i’m relistening to sadism’s hold and…ivan’s reasoning for shit is just…it’s sooo…