#The Deadly Spawn Gifs

[fanofspooky]

Horror movies of 1983

[soupy-sez]

THE DEADLY SPAWN (1983) dir. Douglas McKeown

[creaturefeature333]

Movies Watched Halloween 2022

Frankenstein (1931) | The Thing (1982) 

The Deadly Spawn (1983)  | The Return of the Living Dead (1985)

[astralbondpro]

The Deadly Spawn (1983) // Dir. Douglas McKeown

[upsidedownmvnson]

movies you and eddie munson watch together 1/??

eddie's pick: the deadly spawn (1983) dir. douglas mckeown

[best-friends-exorcism]

Top 5 movies I watched for the first time in October - Night of the Creeps, Terrifier 2, The Toxic Avenger, The Deadly Spawn, Smile

[ozarkthedog]

𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬

summary: dbf!joel video calls you during a meal with your parents.

warnings: 18+ mdni. toxic dbf!joel miller x afab!reader. unspecified age gap. daddy kink. tit play. dirty talk. male masturbation. no beta. w.c: 641

author's note: spawned from the "who's your daddy?" clip and @mrsmando mentioning toxic dbf!joel. 😘

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐬 ⋅ 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

"Doin' the right thing pickin' up," Joel praises with a velvety tone as he moves his phone to rest in front of his chest.

The video screen displays his tan, aging face, slicked-back gray hair, and trimmed silver whiskers. He's reclined in a chair wearing a white t-shirt under a gray flannel button-up like he just got home from a job. "Be a good girl 'n show me those pretty tits."

Your eyes bug at his command. Thank god you stepped out onto the deck and shut the slider.

"Joel, not now. Please." You'd been eating dinner with your parents, and now you're on a video call with your dad's best friend, who's asking to see your tits.  

Not that he hasn't already seen them and every other inch of you.

"C'mon now, show me wha's mine," he pesters with a clipped, unwavering command.

You nervously peer through the glass slider and into the kitchen, praying your parents don't come outside before lifting your top and showing the older man your bare breasts.

"Thatta girl." A deep, tinny groan spills from the tiny speakers and nestles in your lower belly. Your cunt throbs at the sound. Sticky arousal leaks into the gusset of your panties as you squeeze your breasts together between your arms, propping them up for him.

"Jus' what I needed," he praises with ravenous eyes locked on the lower part of the screen, shamelessly drinking in the image of your naked chest. "Wanna get my hands on those fuckin' pretty tits. Suck 'n bite 'em until you're cryin'."

A chilly gust blows through the trees and races up your spine, making your skin prickle under Joel's heated stare. He darkly hums as your nips pucker and stands at attention for him. "Looks like someone likes bein' a slut."

Your chest heaves, breasts lightly bouncing as an intense wave of lust sends shocks rippling through your system. His body shifts, and you hear the click of his belt before his left, flannel-clad arm begins moving up and down out of frame. A gravelly moan pours from his pouty lips and drips through the speakers straight into your quivering cunt.

"Go on, give 'em a pinch."

You acquiesce, giving into his demand and your own greedy perversion, and palm one of your breasts. Your flesh prickles as you playfully circle a pert bud and lightly pinch it, letting a soft mewl tumble into the night.

"Who's your Daddy?" He asks with a throaty groan; the muscles in his neck pulse under his freckled, tan skin as he jerks his cock.

Your cheeks flame at his words, and you can't help but pathetically whimper.

"C'mon, say it, or else I'm comin' over," he states, cocking his head with a deadly smirk that tugs at the corners of his lips. "'N we both know it'd kill him to see what a lil' whore his daughter turned into."

A gasp tears from your parted lips. He wouldn't-

"Best do as you're told, pretty girl. Don' wanna disappoint me now, do ya?"

Your eyes flutter, and you nervously lick your bottom lip, making it shine under the deck light.

"Daddy."

Syrupy slick flows freely from your cunt, drenching your panties as you softly chant the word "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy" over and over to the older man. Your cunt pulses in time with his movements, wishing he was fucking his cock into you instead of his fist.

He jerks his length greedily, faster and faster, until his neck flushes like a golden sunset, his eyes pinch tight, and he comes with a hoarse growl between gritted teeth.

Ropes of white land on his heaving chest, staining his button-up. The sight makes you lightheaded, and you fall back against the side of the house, breathless.

"Next time, I'm leavin' my mark on 'em," he gruffly declares before abruptly ending the call, leaving you to stare at your pathetic, wanton reflection in the murky black screen.

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

reblogs & comments are extremely appreciated! follow @ozzieslibrary for new fic updates!

[petrapalerno]

Submitting to the Alien Barbarian: #1

Signing up for an alien breeding program should be scary, considering the aliens are ruthless barbarians. On the upside, they won’t hesitate to give it to you as rough as you like it. 

Submitting to the Alien Barbarian is part of a smutty novella collection, Petra Palerno’s Filthy Shorts, that features otherworldly love interests. 

In this installment, you’ll find: alien romance, size difference, double dongs, submission, bratting, breeding, will it fit, rough play and pregnancy.

TW/CW: rough consensual sex, primal play, knotting, breeding, aliens, dominance/submission, blood play, spanking, pregnancy, fisting, overstimulation, anal play, gagging, violence, birthing, science fiction medical procedures and murder.

PREORDER NOW!

The heat radiating from the crowd, along with the smell of sex, hits me in the face as the door clicks open and the pilot bot dumps me unceremoniously into the dirt.

My heart thuds in my chest, but it’s not the excitement I thought I would feel.

I’m scared shitless.

But this is what I wanted, this is what I signed up for. 

“Mates needed for Volkroth spawning season. All expenses paid for biologically compatible species.” 

You wanted someone to be rough with you, to be a fucking barbarian with you.

Maybe it was too much to expect an orientation before being dropped off at the spawning pits. I figured after the extensive medical testing to ensure biological capability, they’d ease me in.

I was so wrong.

Besides the chorus of fucking masses that surround me, there’s the guttural noises of males as they slam their fists into each other’s bodies.

Something I didn’t realize from the holo communication is that the aliens are fucking huge. They tower over me as one purple brute rips the other male off a yellow alien female, who arguably looks like she’s having a great time. She even laughs as the male turns and clocks the attacking alien on the jaw.

His bones snap, sounding like a lightning-struck tree, as he crumples to the ground. I’m not sure if the breaking noise was his jaw or his neck—but I don’t think anyone cares.

They’re barbaric! They kill soldiers deemed too weak to fight. How could you want to mate a Volkroth? My roommate’s disgusted face flashes in my mind as I wonder if the alien on the ground is dead or not. 

“If you’re too weak to fight, you’re too weak to carry on the bloodline,” the victor yells.

The last male standing drips with the perspiration of sex, his body slick and shining. Unlike the one I saw on the holo comm, he’s completely nude.

More importantly, the big beast has two massive cocks resting on one heavy set of balls. They twist around each other, almost looking like they’re prehensile. I must gasp, because I draw his attention.

I scramble to stand when the alien’s eyes fall on me. His thick black hair, falling free of his topknot, spills over the four horns. There are two on either side of his head that curl proudly away from his face. 

“A human?” He almost laughs as he says it. “I’d have thought your kind too soft, too exotic to be in the spawning pits with the rest of us.”

His voice is deadly smooth as he approaches me, a predator stalking his prey.

I freeze, even though my brain is screaming to flee, that I shouldn’t let this monster near me.

But there’s a broken part of my judgement that wants him to grab me by the neck and fuck me into the dirt. So I stay still, stuck between two desires, my heart in my throat.

I crane my head up to look at him. He moves one very deliberate step closer. He’s so close now I can feel his breath on my face.

His eyes darken, and he licks his lips.

“You should run.” His voice is almost a whisper as it leaves his mouth.

The logical part of my mind wins, and I bolt. But I don’t have time to worry about where I’m running to. His huge hand shoots around my midsection, pulling me back against his body.

His enormous cocks strain against my ass, the thin fabric of my jumpsuit doing nothing to protect me from the heat of his body. He brings his free hand up to my neck and squeezes rough fingers against the column of my throat. It sends sparks down to my weeping pussy and I squirm in his hold.

“I want you full and dripping with my seed, and only mine, human,” he breathes into my ear.

I bite back a moan. 

“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? You want a beast to breed you, to make you submit?”

“Yes,” I manage to eek out. The first words I’ve spoken on this planet are to agree to be some space barbarian’s plaything.

His hand rips the neckline of my jumpsuit, exposing my breast to the planet’s humid air. My nipples pebble instantly as he drags his rough hand over the sensitive flesh.

The hand on my neck weaves into my hair, grabbing my ponytail and yanking my head further back until my cheek rests against his. His stubble rubs my cheek raw.

“How do you want it?” he asks.

“Rough,” I groan as his fingers pinch my nipple. I arch my back, searching for some friction as my hips lift. I want him to fuck me.

Suddenly, there’s a flash of pain and I yelp as his hand comes down hard, sharply smacking my tit.

“Can you handle rough, with all this softness?” His palms smoothes over the agitated skin of my red breast, the stinging melting into something blurred with an intense pleasure.

“Only one way to find out,” I say, with some shocking boldness. “Fuck me.”

His breath catches at my change in tone.

This is what I wanted. My body sings with joy. I want him to use me; I want him to fucking breed me.

I look back at the alien, and his brows knit. A look of resolution crosses his face.

“I won’t share you,” he says before throwing me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

[athenamikaelson]

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader!Soulmate x Elijah Mikaelson PART 10

Word Count- 7.2k

Warnings- Swearing, blood, violence, death, Damon’s ass/Damon BEING an ass, shitty Google translate, spelling mistakes(I'm wayyy too tired to edit this rn)

A/N- some of this is not canon just because I love a character too much and she deserved better in the show. 

“Are you just going to keep sulking in here,” I ask from my position in Damon’s doorway.

Damon answers me back with a loud groan mixed with what I believe to be a growl, “Tell me again why you’re here. And why I haven’t killed you yet?”

If I had just met Damon I would be scared of what he just asked me, but after these past weeks of knowing him, I’ve realized most of his threats are half-assed. So I just shrug and walk into his room.

“My mother and brother are away for the week visiting family, leaving me home alone. And, well, I don’t feel like having “he who shall not be named,” come and kill me in my sleep. And you haven’t killed me because you don’t want to. I’ve called you many bad names to your face, and yet I stand here, unharmed."

“Here you stand annoying the hell out of me. Again.”

I roll my eyes and sit on the edge of Damon’s bed. Damon still hasn’t moved from his position under the covers. 

“Damon,” I turn over my shoulder to look at him and he lets out yet another groan to acknowledge he’s listening, “I’m going to be honest with you.”

“Nothing new there,” I hear him say under his breath sarcastically.

“You’re kind of embarrassing to watch right now,” I turn to see him fully glaring at me now, “You’re how old? Like five thousand years or something like that? It’s time you grew up.”

“Says the high schooler.”

“Says the man in love with a high schooler,” I bite back which has him shutting up momentarily.

“You don't know anything,” He says as he finally sits up in his bed. His white sheet falling down, revealing his naked chest. I quickly avert my eyes, not because I’m attracted to him but because seeing Damon half-naked would be like seeing my annoying ass distant cousin naked. No, thank you. 

“Don’t bullshit me, Demon-spawn,” I point an accusing finger at him resulting in him glaring at me some more. 

“I know you have feelings for Elena, everyone and their bloody mothers knows. And as much as I like Stefan, I also don’t think it should be something you need to feel bad for,” I think momentarily and tap my chin in thought, “Well, okay. Maybe a little bad because she’s 17 and you’re like 1,000 and she’s also your little brother’s girlfriend,” I catch Damon’s deadly look and stop rambling, “Moving along…What I’m trying to say is that we can’t control who we catch feelings for. And honestly, Elena’s pretty and nice as hell so I don’t blame you there. But what we can control is how we choose to express those feelings.”

Damon just stares blankly at me and I feel like I’d be better off giving a toddler this speech. 

“What you’re doing right now, sulking and getting mad at everyone around you for something that is out of our control isn’t helping anyone. It’s only making things worse. Elena’s my best friend and I know she’s scared out of her mind right now but doesn’t want to say it because it'll cause more stress for the people she loves. What she needs right now is all of us. After tonight is over and Elijah’s elixir brings her back then you can go back to your hissy fits but right now,” I stand up and face him, planting my hands on my hips in a power pose, “You need to get your ass out of bed and get a fucking grip.”

Damon and I hold each other’s glares for a straight minute before he huffs, throws his blanket off of him, and gets out of bed. I have to fight a smirk as I get overly proud of my pep talk. 

“I’m really starting to miss when it was just puke coming out of that mouth of yours,” Damon growls as he walks to the bathroom and pulls down his boxers without a second thought. My eyes fly out of my head as I get a full look at Damon’s white ass. I quickly turn around and gag.

“Dude! Seriously, warn a girl!”

---

“I don’t remember you being so…talky,” Damon’s voice yells from over the water of his shower.

I frown as I think about his comment and sit back down on the edge of his bed facing the front door and not the bathroom. Not wanting to get a face full of his behind again, or worse…ugh.

“I…don’t think I’ve ever been talky. There has never been a reason for me to be,” I say back to him not really caring if he hears or not.

A moment later I hear the shower water stop and his footsteps padding around behind me. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean,” Damon says from next to me and I slowly turn hoping he’s at least half decent. 

Thankfully, he has covered his behind with jeans and is currently slipping a shirt over his chest.

I think about his question and then shrug my shoulders, “I’ve never really had friends to talk to, and whenever I had tried talking to people they just hadn’t cared. So I never really saw the point in talking.”

Damon stops fixing the buttons on his shirt momentarily to look at me. His eyebrows are drawn together and the look in his eyes isn’t one I think I’ve seen from him before. Something about it almost seems kind of…human. But within another second it’s gone and his lip upturns into a smirk.

“People are a waste of time anyway. The only good thing about them…,” He takes a step closer to me and leans down so he’s in my face, “Is there blood.”

I huff as I stand up and push past him heading towards the door, “And here I thought I could actually have a half-decent conversation with you. My mistake.”

I start walking through the halls toward the living room where Elena, Stefan, and Elijah are. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Damon catch up to me so we’re walking side by side.

“You’re kind of annoying,” He says and I have to fight the urge to not punch him.

“Gee, thanks,” I go to walk faster but he catches up to me again.

“What I mean is…,” He pauses for a moment trying to find his words, “You may be annoying but that doesn’t mean what you have to say is pointless or something that shouldn’t be heard. Screw anyone who tells you otherwise…or just kill them.”

I look at him with a confused look matching the confused feelings I now have, “Thank you? I think.”

“Don’t mention it,” He leans down and glares at me, “Seriously, I will kill you if you tell anyone what I just said.”

I suck on my teeth and then nod my head, “And there’s the Demon we all know and loathe.”

“Right, back at you, Pukey.”

I watch as Damon’s eyebrows furrow as we get closer to the living room and as we enter he speaks up, “Then why are we letting him break the curse?”

I follow Damon into the living room and see Elena and Stefan sitting together on a sofa and Elijah standing before them. Elijah’s eyes lock onto mine and I acknowledge him by sending him a small smile which he just returns with a nod. Okay, Rude.

“We can kill him today. With Bonnie,” Damon says and I realize we’re talking about him. At the mention of him, I begin to clench my fists as a surge of anger rises through me but stop myself since I don’t feel like accidentally cutting myself in a room of vampires. I take my seat on a loveseat next to Elena, who sends me a warm smile before turning towards Damon.

“No. Bonnie can’t use that much power without dying.”

“I’ll write her a great eulogy,” Damon’s words have me turning in my seat and glaring at him. So much for my speech getting to him.

“It’s not an option Damon,” You tell him, Elena. 

Stefan sighs, “Alright, how do we break this curse?”

“Well, the ritual itself is relatively straightforward. The ingredients, so to speak you already know,” Elijah answers.

“The moonstone,” Stefan says.

“A witch will channel the power of the full moon to release the spell that’s bound within the stone. After that Klaus, being both a werewolf and a vampire, will sacrifice one of each.”

“And where do I fit into it,” Elena asks him.

“The final part of the ritual. Klaus must drink the blood of the doppelganger…to the point of your death.”

Elijah’s words have both Stefan and I taking deep breaths.

“And that’s where you come in.”

Elijah goes to the shelf behind him and opens a little wooden box, “This is an elixir that I acquired some 500 years ago for Katerina. It possesses the mystical properties of resuscitation.”

“So I’ll be dead..”

“And then you won’t.”

Damon the grouch speaks up, “That’s your plan? A magical witch potion with no expiration date,” He turns to Elena, “You want to come back to life, what…What about John’s ring?”

“Those rings only work on humans. The doppelganger is a supernatural occurrence. Odds are…the ring won’t work.”

“I’ll take those odds over your elixir. What if it doesn’t work Elena?”

“Then I guess I’ll just be dead.”

Damon shoots his brother a look, but knowing Stefan, he’ll go with whatever Elena wants. Even if he doesn’t agree. Damon realizes this too before shooting another glare at the group before leaving the living room back to where we originally came from.

“Do we know if Klaus has everything he needs to do this? Does he have a werewolf?”

“Klaus has been waiting over a thousand years to break this curse. If he doesn’t already have a werewolf my guess is by tonight, he will.”

—

I watch from my position on the couch as Stefan follows his brother outside. That’s going to be a fun conversation. 

Elena approaches Elijah, “You’d think he’d understand why I’m willing to do this.”

“Why are you?”

“I’m the key to breaking the curse. Klaus is here because of me. If I don’t stop him, then he’s gonna hurt people. It’s that simple.”

I frown sadly to myself and fight back the watering that has started in my eyes. This isn’t fair. None of this is. 

“You know, there’s a possibility this elixir won’t work. I don't want to mislead you.”

“I know the chance I’m taking.”

The tense atmosphere is broken by a door slamming shut and a woman yelling from the foyer. 

“Jenna, Jenna!”

“Get out!”

I quickly rise from my seat and go to follow behind Elena to check on Jenna, but a hand grabs my own, pulling me back. 

“Wait here,” Elijah’s stern voice says to me as he drops my hand and follows behind Elena.  I watch his retreating figure and shake my head. Who tf does this guy think he’s talking to?

I run towards the foyer and freeze when I see Ric standing there. Or Klaus, I guess. My breathing gets faster and I’m debating on whether to swing on him or pass out.

“Jenna, put the cross-bow down, okay? It’s me.”

Stefan joins us and Elijah comes to stand in front of me, not before shooting me a disapproving look.

“What’s going on,” Elena asks the two adults.

“It’s me, Elena, I swear, okay? He let me go. Klaus let me go,” I frown at Ric’s words and look to Elijah to see if he can tell if Ric is telling the truth or not but his face is completely still. 

“Prove it,” Damon who has now joined says.

“Okay, uh, the first night you and I spent together Jeremy walked in right when-”

“Ok! It’s him,” Jenna exclaims as she drops her weapon. Ew. Everyone in the room throws glances at each other before turning back towards Ric. 

“Why did he let you go,” Stefan asks.

“He wanted me to deliver a message. The sacrifice happens tonight.”

—-

“Katherine was there,” Ric says from his position on the couch. We all moved back into the living room to keep discussing our plans for tonight. 

“She’s under compulsion. Damon snuck her vervain but she can't leave until Klaus tells her she can.”

“Where is Damon,” Elena questions, and I get a bit unnerved. Not knowing where Damon is is not an ideal situation. 

“I saw him go upstairs,” Jenna says. 

Elena stands up and goes towards his room and I go to follow her but Elijah grabs my upper arm, “I need to speak with you,” I begin to argue back as he pulls me into the next room.

“Dude let go of me,” I hiss at him and he drops my arm and stares blankly at me.

“Do not dude me, Elskan,” Elijah says with that stupid monotone voice of his that makes me want to wrap my hands around his throat.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do Elijah,” I whisper yell to him so the others don’t overhear us, “And stop with that stupid nickname.”

Elijah narrows his eyes at me, “You are making it incredibly hard for me to protect you.”

“Oh I’m sorry,” I roll my eyes sarcastically, “I didn’t realize you actually cared, since you’ve been acting like you don't.”

Elijah’s narrowed eyes morph into ones of confusion, “What are you talking about?”

“Seriously! One second you’re making all these promises to protect me and being all nice and stuff and then the next moment you won’t even acknowledge my existence.”

“It would be impossible for me to not acknowledge your existence, Y/n. There is not a single moment where I am not searching for you. This situation,” He gestures between us, “Is not something I take lightly. And keeping you safe is now my most important mission in this life. So I apologize if I have hurt your feelings whilst doing that.”

I’m frozen as I listen to Elijah and he takes a single step towards me. He reaches his hand up and brushes a stray hair behind my ear. 

“You have no idea how long I have waited for you,” His words have me frowning in confusion as he brushes his finger across my cheek, “But, I fear that if I let myself get too close then it will only put you in more danger and I would rather dagger myself before ever letting that happen.”

My chest and my brain don't seem to be working properly as I just stare wide-eyed at the man in front of me. I try to think of something, anything really to say but I can’t seem to get my mouth to form a sentence. 

A loud bang comes from upstairs and Elijah gives me one more look before exiting. I feel like I’m on autopilot as I walk towards the noise, catching sight of Ric and Jenna running towards it as well. I make my way up to Damon’s room and gasp as I see Stefan with a very big piece of wood through his stomach. Ric tries to grab Damon but the ladder pushes him off him before walking out of the room.

“Okay, Jenna, downstairs in the basement are some blood bags,” Ric tells Jenna who is standing in front of me, “Go get them, now. Go!”

Jenna leaves as Elena rips the wood out of Stefan. I walk over and kneel next to them as Elena holds and tries to comfort her hurt boyfriend.

“I’m so sorry,” Stefan groans out.

I frown, confused, “Why is he sorry? He’s the one who got stabbed?”

I’m ignored for a moment as Elena shushes Stefan until he passes out and with tearful eyes, she looks over to me, “Damon he…he fed me his blood. Y/n, I don’t want to be a vampire”

'My chest practically caves in on itself as I hear my friend's small sobs and shake my head in denial, “No…no. There has to be another way. There has to be Elena,” I stand up and look at her once more, “You’re not going to be a vampire.”

—

I storm through the halls and down the stairs until I see Damon in the living room pouring himself a glass of whatever alcohol he has on hand. That anger from before rises at the idea of what he just did.

“You selfish bastard,” I storm over to him and I see Elijah try to stop me from the corner of my eye, only to receive my hand in his face. And as Damon turns around to look at me he receives my fist in his face. 

Damon hisses as my fist flies across his cheekbone and I fight back tears at the pain in my knuckles. I’ve never thrown a punch before but I didn’t realize it would hurt this much. Jesus.

Damon looks back at me as if my punch did nothing to him, which it probably didn’t and I expect him to charge at me, and I’m assuming Elijah does as well because he moves next to me. But all Damon does is stare at me, raise his glass to his lips, downs it, and then exits the living room. 

“You’ve never thrown a punch before have you,” Elijah’s voice has me turning my gaze over to him.

I look at him sheepishly, “Is it that obvious?”

Elijah stares at me and from his face I think he's trying to debate whether to be amused by me or scold me, “A bit, but I applaud you for the effort,” Elijah’s eyes dart towards my hurting hand and he picks it up with his own and inspects it. 

“You’ll have some bruising but thankfully there appears to be no breakage.”

I let out a pained hiss as one of his fingers brushed against my middle knuckle. He instantly stops and looks at me.

“I can heal you if you’d like,” He asks me and I remember back to when he healed me the first time. It feels like another lifetime ago. 

“I’ll be fine,” I dismiss him and he nods but doesn’t drop my hand. He does reach his other hand up and uses his thumb to wipe a stray tear off my cheek. 

“I’m sorry about Elena,” I quickly remember why I punched Damon in the first place and go to question about the elixir but he shakes his head as if he already knows what I’m thinking, “It won’t work any longer. Damon made sure of that when he fed her his blood. When Elena dies she’ll wake up as a vampire."

I shake my head in denial and feel the tears reach my eyes again, “No... Elijah. There has to be another way! Please tell me there’s another way.”

Elijah’s features form to one of sorrow as if he can feel the pain I’m in, “I’m sorry, Elskan. I truly am.”

I shake my head and bite down hard on my lip to try to stop my tears. Elijah reaches up his hand though and frees my bottom lip from my teeth with his thumb. 

“Come here,” Elijah says as he pulls me into him and wraps his arms around my body. The smell of something masculine, almost smoky, surrounds me as he rests his chin on my head. After everything that has happened, if I were to die like this in his embrace, I don’t think I would regret it. 

—

I wipe the remnants of my smeared mascara as I look at myself in my car mirror. After Elijah left the Salvatore’s saying he had some loose ends to clean up before tonight and to not get myself into any more trouble, I went to check on Elena. 

She hugged me for about ten minutes straight and I just rubbed her back as she cried into my shoulder. And I may or may not have cried along with her, feeling heartbroken for my friend. 

Elena and Stefan then left together to go spend her last day as a human together, which is as bittersweet as it is heartbreaking. And after bidding Jenna and Ric a goodbye I found myself driving to the Mystic Grill. That’s why I am now sitting in it’s parking lot trying to collect myself and trying to keep myself busy for what is to happen tonight. 

I open my car door and hold my bruised hand tentatively as I push through the front door to the Grill. I had seen a “Help Wanted,” sign here the other day and if I hopefully survive the night I’ll need a job for the summer. Not being a trust fund baby really sucks ass sometimes. 

Matt Donovan sends me a warm smile as I walk past him. I'd never really talked to the guy other than the few times in class where he’d ask to borrow a pencil or if I could help him with some math equation, but he always seemed sweet. Unlike the stupid jock stereotype, I’ve gotten used to seeing in this town. After being told by Elena what happened to his sister and that now he lives by himself as a 17-year-old because his mom’s a deadbeat, I feel bad for the guy. 

I let out a low groan as I stop my walk towards the bar which is currently occupied by the demon overlord himself. I debate to myself if I should just turn around, but a hand on my shoulder shocks me.

Ric stands there with his hands raised up in apology, “My bad Y/N. Didn’t mean to scare you. Just wanted to check on you and see how you’re doing.”

I look at Ric and sigh, “I’m just glad you’re you again.”

Ric nods his head in agreement, “Ya, me too. I didn’t hurt you while I was Klaus right?”

I shake my head, “No Ric, and even if you did it wouldn’t have been your fault. You had no control over yourself.”

Ric sends me a warm smile and nods, “I feel kind of violated, to be honest.”

I snort at his joke, “I don’t blame you.”

“I need a drink,” Ric says as he walks with me up towards the bar and my knuckles start to burn as I stare at the hair on the back of Demon’s head.

“I’ll have the same as him,” Ric says to the waiter as he sits on Damon’s right and I sit down on his left. The waiter then looks at me for my drink order, “A Shirley Temple, please. And a job application?”

The waiter, a half-decent-looking man, smirks as he pulls out a pad of papers from behind the bar and hands them to me before going back to making drinks.

“Job searching, Pukey,” Damon asks from beside me and I stare forward not looking at him.

“Ric,” I call to him and he turns to look at me, “If Damon’s here who do you think is guarding the gates of hell?”

Rics snorts out a deep laugh and I can see Damon scowling from beside me. The waiter comes back and gives Ric his bourbon and me my Shirley Temple. I accidentally grab it with my injured hand and try to cover the hiss I let out, with a cough.

“How’s your hand,” Damon asks from next to me. I’m surprised that his voice doesn’t sound completely sarcastic.

I turn and glare at him, “How’s your face?”

Damon sends me a smirk and gestures to his unmarked face, “Perfect.”

I roll my eyes and take a sip of my Shirley Temple ignoring whatever the two men next to me are talking about. That is until a voice that has my heart doing a fucking backflip in my chest calls from behind us. 

“Gentlemen? Why so glum,” A deep British voice asks and I could’ve sworn goosebumps went up my arms at the sound. What the fuck? 

All three of us turn to match the voice to the face and…Holy shit.

A tall dark-blond man stands about a foot length from me. At this distance, I can see the different shades of blue in his eyes and the small freckles that decorate his perfect nose. 

I hear Damon groan from behind me and I’m not sure why as I’m too busy ogling the pretty man before me. 

“Klaus, I presume.”

I blink. And then I blink again. And then once more as I’m frozen staring at Klaus. The Shirley Temple in my hands starts to shake as I can’t take my eyes off the man. 

“In the flesh. Thanks for the loner, mate,” Klaus smirks at Ric and if I wasn’t in total shock right now I’d defend him. But the man I’ve thought of killing for the past week is standing right in front of me and I was counting how many fucking freckles I could see on his goddamned nose. There’s thirteen.

 Shut tf up Y/n?!

Klaus hasn’t looked my way once and although I should be glad about that a part of my lower stomach drops at the fact.

Damon stands from his seat and goes to face the man, “Any reason you stopped by to say hi?”

“I’m told you and your brother fancy my doppelganger. Just thought I’d remind you not to do anything you’ll regret,” Klaus’ warning doesn’t seem to sway Damon as the ladder lets out a laugh.

“Thanks for the advice. I don’t supposed I could talk you into a postponement by any chance, huh?”

Klaus lets out a chuckle and I swear my heart just skipped a beat. What the fuck Y/n?!?!??

“You are kidding,” Klaus asks and then turns to Ric, “He is kidding, right?”

“No, not really.”

“I mean, come on, what’s one month in the whole grand scheme of things,” Damon asks and I realize that he’s doing this because he doesn’t want Elena to die with vampire blood in her system. 

“Ya, I mean one month is like,” I pretend to count on my fingers, “Like thirty days. I don’t see why you can’t wait that long. You’ve already waited over a thousand years, what’s thirty days?”

I ask the man and this finally has Klaus acknowledging my presence. But honestly, from the way he’s looking at me, I wish I would’ve kept quiet. His eyebrows are drawn together and his lips curve upwards into what I hope isn’t a snarl. Damon must’ve noticed the look too because he moves in front of me blocking me from Klaus’ vision and him from mine. 

“Let me be clear,” I hear Klaus’ deep voice say, “I have my vampire, I have my werewolf. I have everything I need. The ritual will happen tonight. So if you want to live to see tomorrow don’t screw it up.”

I catch sight of Klaus’ back as he strolls away.

“Would I be a bad person to say I kind of hope his werewolf was the Jules’ chick,” I see Ric shoot me an “Are you serious” look and I shrug, “Hey, she was the one who tortured me. I still got the little knife scare on my leg to prove it.”

Damon doesn’t say anything as he sits back down and sighs. 

“You’re gonna screw it up, aren’t you?”

“You think if I took his werewolf out of the equation she might…get over the fact that I tried to turn her into a vampire?”

“Nope,” I say popping the p.

“I think it won’t matter, because you’ll be dead.”

“But without the werewolf he can’t preform the ritual tonight which means I would have bought her one month before the next full moon.”

Ric shakes his head, “But you’ll still be dead.”

Damon leans into him, “Are you gonna help me or what?”

Ric looks at him for a moment, “What do you want me to do?”

I slurp up the rest of my drink, throw a five onto the counter,  and jump up as the two men next to me watch me wearily.

“Alright gentlemen, dream team time!”

Ric raises an eyebrow while Damon shoots me a look of disgust, “I don’t know what the hell that was, but you’re not coming along.”

I frown as I grab my application and follow behind the two men, “Why the hell not? I want to help.”

Damon whips around to me, “Look kid, not happening. There’s already too much shit going down and I can’t be babysitting you, making sure you don’t get killed on my watch. So go back home and we’ll see you tonight. Capiche?”

Damon turns back around and walks to his car. Ric sends me one last smile and a shrug of his shoulders before following behind. I watch the two men drive off and I sigh as I stand in the middle of the parking lot. Anger and sadness building in me, when I realize just how useless I truly am.

—

I try to give Elijah a smile as he opens the SUV door for me. But with the mood I’m in I think the smile comes out more like a frown than anything else. Elijah must notice this too as he reaches his hand out for me to take. I debate it for a moment, 1. Not being a big fan of PDA, and 2. Stefan and Ric are with us and I don’t want them to be angry with me. But then I remember that my best friend is going to die tonight so a little PDA isn’t that huge in the grand scheme of things. 

Elijah seems elated as I place my hand in his and he guides Stefan and I through the woods toward the creepy ass witch house where Bonnie, Jeremy, and Ric are. 

“The sacrifice is completed in stages as the full moon sets,” Elijah explains to us. I feel his hand squeeze mine in comfort and I squeeze his back, “First the werewolf is killed, then the vampire’ and finally the doppelganger. Once Elena dies, the curse will be broken. Klaus will become a hybrid.”

Stefan comes to walk next to us. His eyes go down to Elijah and I’s intertwined hands briefly before looking back up to me. When I send him a weary smile, he sends me a small one in return calming down my nerves.

“So when do we attack,” Ric asks from behind us.

“Elena’s death will activate his dormant werewolf side. He’ll be vulnerable during the transformation. That’s when Bonnie comes in.”

“And you’re sure Bonnie will survive this,” Stefan asks and I’m thankful at least one of the Salvatore brothers has a heart.

“If she can deliver him to the brink of death I’ll finish the job myself.”

Stefan and Ric nod.

“Could I talk to Elijah for a moment,” I ask the two men who share a look before nodding and moving towards the house. 

Elijah turns towards me, “What is wrong, Elskan?”

“Are you going to be able to do it?”

Elijah frowns and shakes his head, “What do you mean?”

“Elijah you’re going to be killing your brother. I know siblings are a pain in the ass,” I think back to Theo and thank whatever higher being is out there that he left town this week, “but even when you hate them…you still love them. I’m not judging you for what you have to do. I’m just asking, are you ready for what you’re about to do?”

Elijah’s face is solemn as he processes what I asked, “Klaus wasn’t my only sibling,” I frown as he continues, “There once was a time when we were all together. But Klaus ruined that when he dumped their bodies in the middle of the Pacific.”

I let out a strangled gasp at Elijah’s confession. His pain evident on his face. 

“Elijah…I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Elijah steps forward and holds the side of my face with his free hand, “You’re so good. So…pure. I didn’t want to strangle out the light you have inside you with my demons.” 

“Elijah, you’re not the only one with skeletons in their closet. Trust me. But I want you to be honest with me. I need you to be. If this,” I gesture between us, “whatever this is. Is going to work. I’d never judge you. I know sometimes I can be a lot but that doesn’t mean I don’t anything but happiness for you. I don’t know what this means but you make me feel something I’d never felt with another human being.”

Elijah stares at me and something in his eyes tugs at my chest, “What is that?”

“Safe. You make me feel safe, Elijah. And I know I’m not some supernatural immortal and I can’t throw a punch to save my life. But, I want to make you feel that way too. However, I can.”

I start to get embarrassed as Elijah stares at me silently and I really wish I would’ve just kept my mouth closed.

“ᛁ ᚹᚨᛚᛚ ᛚᛟᚡᛖ ᛇᚢ ᚢᚾᛏᛁᛚ ᚦᛖ ᛋᚢᚾ ᛖᛗᛈᛚᛟᛞᛖᛋ, ᚦᛖ ᛟᚲᛖᚨᚾᛋ ᛞᚱᛁ ᚢᛈ, ᚺᚢᛗᚨᚾ ᛚᛁᚠᛖ ᚺᚨᛋ ᛚᛟᚾᚷ ᛋᛖᚾᚲᛖ ᚷᛟᚾᛖ ᚨᚾᛞ ᛁ ᚨᛗ ᚾᛟᛏᚺᛁᚾᚷ ᛒᚢᛏ ᛗᚣ ᛋᛟᚢᛚ. ᛒᚢᛏ ᛖᚡᛖᚾ ᛏᚺᛖᚾ ᛁ ᚹᛁᛚᛚ ᛋᛏᛁᛚᛚ ᛒᛖᛚᛟᚾᚷ ᛏᛟ ᚢ. ᛖᚡᛖᚱᚢᛏᚦᛁᚾᚷ ᛁ ᚨᛗ ᛁᛊ ᚢ,” Elijah says in some old language I can’t place. 

“What exactly did you just say to me,” I ask, expecting the worst.

Elijah smiles and places a kiss on my temple, “I feel safe with you as well, Elskan.”

“I’m going now,” Stefan interrupts us and I move away from Elijah shocked.

The sense of warmth and peace I just had completely washed away as soon as those words left Stefan’s mouth. 

“You should get inside Y/N. Bonnie needs you,” Stefan says to me making me frown. But I nod as I walk through the threshold of the house. Elijah follows me as I stand next to Ric. After a moment Bonnie and Damon walk up the basement stairs and out the front door. I frown as Ric and I follow them and Elijah squeezes my hand once more before dropping it as he passes through the threshold. Ric and I are pushed back though.

“What the hell?”

Ric yells from next to me, “Bonnie! What is this?”

Bonnie turns back towards us, “I can’t put anyone else at risk. I’m sorry.”

“You can’t do this! What if he goes after Jenna,” Ric asks angry.

“Jenna safe locked in at the Salvatore’s.”

“Damon?”

Damon sends us a look, “Sorry buddy. She’s right.”

I look to Elijah for help but from the look on his face he doesn’t seem surprised.

“You knew.”

Elijah turns to me one last time, “I meant what I said about protecting you. If I have to kill my brother to do that, I will. I’m sorry, Elskan. I will see you soon.”

I watch silently, as he turns his back on me and disappears into the woods. So much for trust. 

—-

I watch as my history teacher paces in front of me. Jeremy’s unconscious body lay on the couch next to me and Elena's estranged bald father who looks like Charlie Brown watches us wearily. If you had told me I’d be in this situation a month ago I would’ve called you crazy and set up an appointment for you with my therapist mother. But here I am. Yippee. 

I stand up, and both of the grown men watch me, “Just using the bathroom. Wait…Does this place even have a bathroom,” I ask but groan when I get no answer. I’m about to make my way out of the room when a piercing pain slices through my chest.

It only takes one scream from my lips before Ric is at my side. His mouth is moving but the sheer pain I’m experiencing makes it so I can’t process his words. I watch with teary eyes and sobs coming out of my mouth as Ric lifts his hand from my chest and his eyes widen. The crimson liquid coating his hand is the last thing I see before the world goes black.

—

3rd Person POV- 

Bonnie screams out her spell as she crushes Klaus’s body. Fire burns around them as the once powerful Original lay in agonising pain. From the shadows, Elijah stalks towards his younger brother. 

Elijah stands above him. A mask of anger covers his face as he leans down to stare at the man he once called a brother and a friend. 

“Elijah?”

Klaus stares up at the man he once saw as his protector, and for the first time in centuries, Klaus feels true fear. 

“Hello, brother.”

Stefan and Bonnie watch from afar as Elijah plunges his arm into his brother’s chest. Wrapping his hand around his still-beating heart. 

“In the name of our family…Niklaus…”

“I didn’t bury them at sea,” Klaus’ desperate voice halts Elijah momentarily before shaking off what he believes to be a trick.

“I know about Y/n,” Those four words have Elijah pausing, “I know what she is to you. And I know she's the same to me.”

The hand that was once clenched around Klaus’ heart slacks as Elijah stares at his brother in horror.

“You’re lying,” Elijah snarls.

Klaus shakes his head, “I wish I was, brother. But I’m not. And if you kill me what do you think will happen to her. Are you really going to take that risk?”

Elijah’s once cool face breaks and turns into one of horror as he looks at his hand that is in his brother’s chest. 

Stefan noticing this lapse of judgement speaks up, “Elijah, don’t listen to him.”

“Elijah,” Klaus says, “Think of her.” 

“Do it and I’ll take you both out,” The Bennet witch threatens.

Elijah looks up to her, “You’ll die.”

“I don’t care.”

Stefan and Bonnie watch in horror as Elijah speeds himself and his brother out of the flames and into the night, leaving only silence and heartbreak. 

— 

“Why are we going to this again,” My brother asks from the hallway outside my room as I fix my black dress in my mirror. My hands freeze for a moment as they land on the spot on my chest that was bleeding just the night before. 

-Flashback-

I woke with a gasp and before I could get a second to breathe I felt someone grasp my shoulders into a hug.

“You’ve really got to stop freaking me out like this,” A soft voice says into my ear.

I pull back and my eyes widen to see Elena with glossy eyes staring back at me.

I shake my head confused, “What happened? Did the ritual happen? Who died? Are you a…,” I pause before finishing my last question.

Elena sends me a smile and shakes her head, “They found another way.”

I feel a smile break out onto my face and I go to sit up to hug her but a sharp pain in my chest stops me.

“Don’t move ok. Just lay still,” Elena coaxes me back onto the coach I’m lying on.

“What happened?”

-End of Flashback-

In Elena and Ric’s spark notes version of the night, about 20 minutes after Stefan, Bonnie, and, Elijah left for the ritual I fell down to the ground in pain, screaming and yelling, and when Ric went to check on me I had blood spilling from my chest. Right above where my heart is. Ric said there was so much blood he couldn’t find where it was coming from but after holding pressure on it for another ten minutes the bleeding had stopped and when he moved his hands from my chest I had no wounds that showed I had been wounded. 

Alaric told me he was surprised that I was still breathing after losing the blood that I did. He also told me that while I was unconscious he found Damon slipping me some of my blood. And if I wasn’t as sore as I was I’d have bitched him out. I’ll just put that on the back burner for now. As well as figuring out what the hell is wrong with me. Bonnie said she couldn’t feel any spells or curses on me so at least that’s a plus. I guess. Also, I haven’t seen Elijah in over a day. Honestly, I don’t know if I could face him right now anyway. I’m pissed that he betrayed us, but there’s a part of me that is happy he didn’t kill his brother. A part I’m not telling the public because right now I’m off to a funeral for Elena’s dad who did die.

Elena told me he had Bonnie do some spell that switched his life for hers. And as much as I disliked the guy, I got to give it to him he showed up in the end. RIP Charlie Brown. 

“We’re going because Elena’s my friend and her dad died, Theo. Try to not be an asshole for the afternoon please,” I say as I meet my brother at the front door of our house. My mother and he came back early last night because she had to get home for some work thing. Typical. But that also means I get to be with Theo for the day and after almost dying yesterday, I realized that I wouldn’t have gotten the chance to say goodbye to him, and today could’ve been my funeral he’d be going to. A chill runs down my spine at the thought and I fight back a set of tears.

“Okay, I promise. I’m sorry,” Theo says as he notices a tear fall down my face.

I smile at my little brother and pull him into a hug.

“I knew you missed me,” I can hear the smirk in his voice as I laugh into his suit jacket. 

“Ya, whatever loser let’s go.”

—

I watch with tear-filled eyes as Elena places a rose on her biological father’s grave and then walks over to her parent's matching graves and places roses on them. Theo stands next to me with a solemn expression on his face, Jeremy is next to him, Bonnie, Caroline, and Tyler stand behind us, and Jenna is on my left as she holds Ric’s hand. I turn to look over my shoulder and I catch Damon’s eye as he stands against a tree. And for the first time ever I almost swore he smiled at me. Damn, maybe he’s dying too. 

—

“I’ll be in the car,” Theo says to me and begins to walk away but not before bringing Jeremy in for a bro hug. I watch as my brother safely gets to the car and then I begin to walk over to Elena but see her already crowded with our friends. My gaze goes towards Damon who stands facing the graveyard and I frown. 

“I have a bone to pick with you. You can’t just go and put blood into people’s mouths while they’re-” I say as I approach him. 

“I’m happy you’re ok, Y/N.”

Damon’s interruption and the sincerity in his voice make me halt as I approach him. 

“Wait…I think I’m hallucinating because I could’ve sworn you just called me by my actual name,” I walk up to him and jokingly smirk, “You dying or something?”

“Tyler Lockwood bit me.”

Oh. Fuck.

Translation-

“​​I will love you until the sun explodes, the oceans dry up, human life has long since gone and I am nothing but my soul. But even then I will still belong to you. Everything I am is you.”

[killerpancakeburger]

Outpace the dawn

Gif by @silverformymonsters

Summary: BG3 Spawn ending Fix It fic! Because I refuse to let him deal with the sunlight alone.

Pairing: Astarion x Reader

Warnings/tags: SPOILERS obvsly, angst/comfort, non canon compliant.

Words count: 936 words.

A/N: It should be Gender Neutral, but if I fcked up since I tend to write from my pov, you can tell me and I'll correct it.

Yes the title is from that Hozier song. It got me thinking how Astarion would need to outpace the dawn from now on.

Astarion’s voice cut through the silence that followed your last battle, as your little group was gathering on a pontoon.

“So, what’s next for us?”

You had been thinking about what was to come for a while, actually. Probably longer than any of your companions have. Some might argue that it wasn’t the time for that, that you should have been completely focused on defeating the Netherbrain. But you couldn’t help it; it was a matter of life and death - Astarion’s life and death. Or rather, undeath and death. Since you’ve known that the brain was within reach, it had become an omnipresent apprehension in your mind.

The slaughter of the brain sounded the death knell of the tadpoles, and their disappearance inevitably meant that Astarion’s resistance to the sun would vanish like it never existed. Like nature rightfully reasserting itself by getting rid of this aberration that had been a vampire walking in the sun in the first place. 

This knowledge has been haunting you for days and nights now. It was your first thought when you woke up and your last when you fell asleep. A knot of dread had settled inside your stomach, making it hard to fall asleep and to interact normally with the source of your worries. And right now, following Astarion’s question, the knot in your guts got even tighter, even more painful.

At any moment, any second from now on, your vampire lover would catch fire as surely as straw in the summer. 

It was fine. You planned. You prepared for this. You procured a large, thick, hooded coat that was guaranteed to block the sunrays. It was even imbued with magic that made it impossible to tear, pierce, or rip in any way. It hadn’t been easy to acquire, but Astarion didn’t need to know that. 

You were on the lookout for any sign of burning, wound as tightly as a spring while still trying to appear normal to the others.

“The world is our oyster, and she has many pearls we can choose from.” claimed Astarion, blissfully unaware of his fate.

He illustrated his remarks by spreading his arms far apart with vigor. The genuine excitement, the happiness in his voice almost made you sick to your stomach. Astarion’s displays of authentic joy were few and far in between, and this one would end as soon as it started. As fast as a vampire spawn left in the sun, as a pile of ashes on the ground.

You could barely bear to look at him. You didn’t have the heart to remind him of his imminent doom. He obviously had forgotten about it for the time being, and while the cruel reality was taking up almost all the space in your brain, like blaring alarms, you’d be damned if you took away from him his last, his only instants of light and warmth, of complete freedom, by reminding him. No Cazador, no tadpole, no mind control, no deadly sunlight, no slave and no master. Just an immense ocean of liberty, intoxicating, vertiginous.

“I honestly don’t mind what we do, once we get to- Ow!”

You instantly straightened up at the sound, like a wild animal who picked up the sound of an upcoming danger. For a terrible second, there was a twisted part of you who felt relieved. Finally, your gnawing, agonizing wait was coming to an end. Then, swiftly, the relief disappeared, flooded with your concern for Astarion. 

“What the- Oh no. Oh Gods.”

Already his hands were fuming, his beautiful pale face sprinkled with silververy cracks like delicate porcelain. He had always looked more like a piece of art than a living being after all. The frantic panic in his voice was like a punch to the chest. In all your battles and struggles together, you had never seen him so horrified. Even against Cazador. Even a True Vampire had to yield to the Sun.

He threw you a harrowing look, like he was bidding you goodbye before bolting. As if you were going to leave him to deal with this alone. Already you were rushing towards him, the life-saving coat in hands. You wrapped it around him as fast as your hands would allow, put the hood on, and gently grabbed him by the shoulder, turning him so his covered back would take the blunt of the light.

“There we go, you explained softly. This will block the sun.” 

“You’ve got this, and I’ve got you.” you added, mirroring his own words.

You were smiling sadly, trying to be supportive, to not add to his burden. The look in his eyes was hard to describe, an intense blend of heartbreak, vulnerability, and gratefulness. 

“Well… It was… it was nice while it lasted.” he managed to articulate, his voice breaking like he was about to cry. 

You could feel your heart break in response like an echo.

The magic sunproof coat was in no way a solution. Barely a bandage on a sinking ship. You had to get out of the sun, quickly.

“Come on, love. Let’s get you some shadow, uh?”

Your encouraging smile was as fragile as a spiderweb. You could feel it teetering on the edge of an abyss. 

Astarion simply nodded, like he didn’t trust his voice anymore. It was fine. He was already expressing so much through his gaze.

You put your hand on the small of his back, barely applying any pressure, threw a telling look over your shoulder at your other companions, and you both started your search for protective darkness between the walls of Baldur’s Gate.

[darkened-writer]

imagine | Star

This is based on a TikTok by @ / hamrikaa , their art piece is so stunning and I hope I can capture the sadness and beauty of it. This imagine was also made with Mitski's 'Star' in mind, so please enjoy.

PAIRING || Astarion x Tav (reader)

WORD COUNT || 881

PART TWO

Old and withered bones, the smell of old wood, and the quiet of night as red eyes were trained on the sleeping body of Tav.

Who knew that seventy-two years could pass so quickly?

As each day passed, their body aged and aged, while he stayed still so young and bright.

Like a star.

But, the years spent together were never, ever in vain, as marriage happened, nights wrapped up in eachothers arms, gentle caresses and whispered nothings. Reassurances and soft kisses on every exposed part of skin.

He never knew how much he need to be touched in a soft manner.

He never knew how much he needed to be held.

If anyone were to tell him back before their journey that he’d find someone to live for, he would’ve laughed in their face.

Their chest rose, up and down, up and down, hoarse and shallow. Tav knew it, He knew it too, it wasn’t long before they’d pass on. It was creeping up on the two of them like a deadly darkness.

The darkness was something that he was used to, but gods, did he want to stay in the sun for as long as possible with Tav.

“My Sweet, wake up…”

Their eyes opened slowly, the muscles frail and feeble, their gaze shaky.

“Would you come with me? Just on the balcony, My Dear.”

“Isn’t it almost sunrise…?”

There was a knowing look shared, Tav’s head shaking, the most movement he’d seen from them as of late.

“No… No…”

They’re lifted up into his arms and carried promptly despite the barely strong pushing against his chest, but they give up, just leaning their head into the crook on his neck until the cool night air hits their skin, eliciting chills. The sky was subtly lighting up, so slow, and yet the pit in Tav’s stomach was heavy.

Astarion couldn’t live without them.

So, he’d go with them.

He sets them down next to him, wrapping an arm around their shoulders, pulling them in as his eyes stay focused on the colors that have started to paint the skies.

Red, Purple, Orange.

“Ideally, even when I was just a spawn, sometimes I thought about walking into the sun to end my suffering. Dissipating into the air, alone, hopeless, missing my old life.”

A beat of silence.

“But…” He looks down at Tav’s resting head, a adoring look in his apple red eyes.

“I was taught, by someone, who was my favorite little travelling companion that… life was worth living for. And, I found myself living for them. Without them, I could never… would never.. Make it another day.”

His voice wavers into the crisp morning air, the dew upon the grass and leaves of trees sending an earthy smell into the atmosphere.

“So, I cherished every single hour, minute, second, and fleeting moment with them because I knew that the day that they were set to die, I’d have no choice but to go with them.”

“Astari–”

“Shh… let me finish, Darling.”

They let him continue.

“I’d move mountains for you to live for another century, to live for ions with me, hand in hand, watching others pass, get old, live their own lives while we continue our together but… our story– our story has come to a close, My Dear.”

His hand shifts to hold Tav’s.

“As I see it, we are a star that has burnt out. We’re tired, aren’t we?”

Tav erupts into a coughing fit, in which Astarion holds them close until they calm down.

The sun begins to rise, slowly, the beams hitting the grass as it slowly moves to cover the entirety of everything, all at once.

“I think we lived well, all things considered.”

He looks down at them, listening to them speak.

“That knife to my neck was quite the impression. And the seduction. But, I knew that all you needed was compassion.”

“You were always a wicked little thing, but your kindness knew no bounds.”

His skin began to flake, a gasp rising from his throat as he held on for dear life, cold hands grasping his lover.

“I never knew love until I met you, and I hope if there is another life after this, we may reunite and continue where we left off, My Treasure.”

A tear fell down his pale cheek, heat radiating from him as he begins to fade into the ether. His head leans down to connect with Tav’s, eyes open, looking into theirs as the last thing he wanted to see before he truly disappears, is the first thing he noticed about Tav. Their eyes.

“See you soon?”

“See you soon.”

The red is gone and now replaced by the view of an empty chair, Tav now sat alone as the sunrise graced their wrinkled skin, but nothing could ever replace the warmth of Astarion. Nothing.

A week later, Tav’s body was discovered curled up on Astarion’s side of their shared bed, a small smile gracing their face, as if satisfied with their life, all the ups and downs, battles won and lost, blood shed and wounds patched up. All of it cultivated to a love that would transcend past their last breath.

Even a dead star can be made anew.

In another life.

[teeramoonlover]

This got me thinking.

Billy Loomis, Stu Macher/William Afton, and Bo Sinclair as they grew older, at some point they need someone from their own flesh and blood to continue their legacy, right?

So yeah those three gonna build one big happy family with reader, and their kids gonna be a bunch of satan's spawn but only being lovely to their own mom/dad/guardian.

And ofc in this case, those three lovely slashers ain't dead in these scenario.

Billy Loomis

As we all know, Samantha Carpenter is the infamous daughter of Billy Loomis. But what if Billy Loomis actually have another kid from the reader? I'm gonna assume this guy gonna be his son.

(My pov) His son definitely will hunt and kill the Ghostface, who dare to be like his dad. In his mind, he was like 'my dad and his friend are the only Ghostface, no one's gotta be like him. And it will stay that way'. So to ease his bloodlust, instead of killing innocents, why not just kill these Ghostface rookies. It's like they're asking for it, didn't they?

Not surprised to see he loves horror movies, maybe get inspiration from crime documentaries. High chance he is the mastermind and have many ways to lure those new Ghostface to him. Tempting to torture them like John Kramer did to his victims.

Oh and if his dad has mommy issue, bro got a whole daddy issues coming in. Like father, like son

Cast (Son): Benjamin Wadsworth

Born: 1997

Stu Macher/William Afton

If Stu Macher had a kid, ya bet his children gonna be a goofball like him? Wrong. In fact (from my pov), his son gonna double up from Stu's inner psychotic tendency in him. More aggressive, more violent and more unhinged. His son knew to embrace madness.

If Stu Macher become a killer because of peer pressure, this kid just pure psycho. Instead of being a friendly social butterfly or party king like his dad, he's the appitome of school's bad boy type of thing. It's either being mean or meanest.

Don't let me start on him becoming Micheal Afton.

If he gets proper love from his mom/guardian, he gonna be a big softie and overprotective (possessive) to his love ones. Gonna be hella toxic. He can be good, only with his mom/guardian, but to someone else? Rarely occasion.

Cast (Son): Drew Starkey

Born: 1996

Bo Sinclair

Ok first of all we all know, BO SINCLAIR IS A BEAST IN BED (rip reader's cunt/rim hole) and when he knew reader is pregnant, he was worried he might not be a good father figure to his kid until their first child born. Things change. Seeing his son's big blue eyes, like him, stir something in him. The Sinclair Jr made him soft. So ofc, Bo becomes bold and wants another child cuz he doesn't want his son to be lonely.

It's to be expected. To be apart of the Sinclair, they would eventually have twins sooner or later. Thank god both their son's head still intact in one piece. On the other hand, his three sons grew handsomely and receive motherly love from the reader.

The eldest, have a nasty tempered like his dad. You got on his way, he'll beat the shit out of you. He only be really nice to someone he care most, like his mama dearest. Always goes to church with his dad to see his grandma and help him in the garage.

The twins - The first twin (middle child) definitely got the charm from his dad. Knows how to be a sweetheart to ladies, but can be deadly once he hunt them for his uncle's sculpture. Most likely helping Vincent to build the museum. Might as well make an art museum next door too.

The second gonna be a rebellion, daredevil (youngest child) Well, not like strapping him to the chair. No no, mama won't like that. He loves adventure so definitely follow uncle Lester from town to town. He likes hunting, depends whether the prey will be animals or people. He can be nice. Charming too. Gonna be good friends with Stu's son, probably.

Cast (Sons): Eldest - Bill Skarsgård, Middle - Harris Dickinson, Youngest - Rudeth Pankow

Born: Eldest - 1994, Twins - 1996

Yep, one big chaotic, happy family indeed.

[soupy-sez]

THE DEADLY SPAWN (1983) dir. Douglas McKeown

[partycatty]

Hear me out bi han with a figure skating reader?..

YAS i actually have two other requests for the same thing! u guys r so cute i love ur lil ideas :))

bi-han > foolish

how it goes when you're an elegant skater and he's a stoic ninja!

warnings: u almost die, controversial bi-han character writing?

notes: this reads like a barbie movie it's a little corny, also i imagine his frost/ice shoots out like elsa LMFAO like all beautiful n shit when he's not trying to spear someone w an icicle

masterlist <3

•when i say bi-han is absolutely horrible at verbalizing his romantic thoughts, i promise with my entire being that i mean it.

•so it comes to nobody's surprise when all bi-han can do is watch you as you glide across the ice like a gorgeous fairy, eyes closed and completely encapsulated in the movement. he was supposed to be scouring the land for raiden and kung lao to confirm their whereabouts, but he stopped when he heard your pretty humming and scraping of ice. all he could do was stand atop a roof and observe you quietly, suddenly feeling a little warm, which was completely out of character for the cryomancer.

•your skates were handmade and your movements weren't professional. you learned through VHS tapes and magazines growing up, and you wanted nothing more than to leave fengjian and make it big in the olympics.

•each time he returns to fengjian to spy on the farmers and report back to liu kang, he's sure to stray from the path when nobody is looking, and checks on the frozen pond to see if you're skating. something about it entrances him. perhaps it's because he uses his ice for dominance and strength, while you submit your entire life to the deadly pond in such a beautiful display of grace.

•it takes him several visits to actually approach you, and it was entirely unintentional. you had actually fallen into a thin patch of ice, your leg trapped in a jagged part and effectively sucking your leg into the freezing water. he leapt from the rooftop and revealed himself to you. while he may not be the best at encouraging words, he's great at barking commands. so, in his all-ice-knowing voice, he tells you how to save yourself step by step, since you seemed entirely clueless about this incredibly important survival skill.

•your nerves got the better of you as you cry out and squirm, and the ice cracked even more. bi-han let out a growl of frustration with the situation before stomping across the ice to you. you wanted to shout out and tell him to stand back or he'd make it worse, but the words get caught in your throat when, with each step, his footsteps spawned large swirling waves of frosty ice, effectively repairing the cracks around you.

•bi-han doesn't outstretch an arm, he just stands menacingly - and silently - over you as you whimper in pain. saving yourself, you use his thick arm as leverage and hoist yourself out of the water, and he barely flinches at your soggy weight.

•"you... you did that," you say incredulously and out of breath, pointing at the intricate patterns along the ice top. bi-han's eyes follow your point and he exhales before turning back to you. "with the ice... how?"

•"you were foolish," he replies coldly, though you sense a morbidly caring tone in his voice. "stay near the shore. you'll lose that leg if you're not careful. no more skating then."

•your hand is on his chest as you regain your balance, and your eyes fall to the emblem on his uniform.

•"how did you know i was skating?" you ask, with a smirk teasing your lips. bi-han tenses up at your question, looking away momentarily. he would literally rather die than admit he was staring at you, and you sense that, so you move back to the emblem.

•"you are in a clan," you mutter, reaching to trace it. "what are ninjas doing in fengjian?"

•instinctively, he snatches up your wrist and holds it in the air, warning you silently not to touch it. but even so, bi-han's lips part for a moment, his eagerness to speak to you overtaking his stoicism. he covers his mouth and furrows his brows. something about your gentleness, your kindness, causes him to desire to match it. your sweet eyes looking into his, you tilt your head and he nearly collapses.

•he decides not to answer your question, and you assume whatever it is is a private matter. perhaps the whispers in madam bo's restaurant might offer an explanation later.

•"well... thank you," you thank him gently, with your arm still in his grip. it's evident that... he doesn't scare you. in fact, you're fascinated by this man. everyone knows everyone, so who could this big yummy scoop of ice cream be??

•"don't thank me yet," he replies, eyes looking down at the ice and back to the shore. "with me. come."

•you do an awkward combination of skating and walking beside bi-han as he leads you back to the snowy shore. his hand rests on your back, full palm taking up a great amount of space on your back. you shudder at the thought.

•"may i thank you now?" you ask with gentle playfulness, smiling up at the ninja before bowing out of respect. "you saved my life, sir. the least you can do is tell me your name."

•"bi-han," he finally replies, his lips in a firm line. "don't make me save you again. be smart. be vigilant."

•his lecture halts when he hears his brothers call for his name in the echoey distance. he shares one last glance with you before walking off into the village alleys, and you're utterly dumbfounded. did that actually happen, or was that a weird hypothermic hallucination? do those even happen?

•before the lin kuei end their exploration of your village, bi-han decides to leave one last lesson for you at your doorstep. how he even knew where you lived baffled you. but, the uneasiness went away when you opened the hastily put together box, and see a brand new pair of ice skates, the blades frosted with the same beautiful pattern you saw on the ice that day.

•never again did you get near the thin points of the icy pond. and, every winter after that, you can't help but feel a pair of eyes on you in the distance as you improve your flips and pivots using your gorgeous skates. and you're pretty sure the lin kuei's business in the village ended quite some time ago...

[fangsandfracturedhearts]

Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Chapter 2: Reunion

Summary: After embracing eternity as a vampire spawn under Astarion's wing, the Crimson Palace becomes a haunting symbol of the man he once was. As his personality unravels into a dark abyss, you flee. A year of hardship unveils the harsh reality of existence as a vampire spawn.

Just as all hope seems lost, a twist of fate reunites you with Astarion, revealing a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows. As you navigate the complexities of your relationship, you must confront the unsettling truth behind the Rite of Profane Ascension and the devilish secrets it holds.

In a race against time, you embark on a daring quest to save Astarion from his descent into darkness. With each choice you make, the stakes grow higher, testing the limits of your courage and determination.

Will Astarion find redemption, or is he destined to succumb to his own inner turmoil?

Word Count: 3.6k

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn

Warnings: Possible spoilers. Eventual Explicit Content. Slow Burn. Thoughts of Suicide. Violence. Blood. Injury. Mature Content.

Instinctively, you descend swiftly into a crouch, your eyes sweeping the shadowed tree line. You can smell them stalking nearby, shrouded by that murky gloom, but your sharpened eyesight can only make out the dark silhouettes of the trees. You scan your surroundings in a practiced manner of calculated calm, taking mental notes of possible hiding places and escape routes.

The toe of your boot grinds slightly back and forth into the ground as you determine your footing. The recent rains and high foot traffic around these small alleyways have left the ground slick with a viscous mud that would make trying to outrun your assailants perilous.

The pungent sickly-sweet scent of powdered iron vine intensifies in measured increments as the Gur hunters advance on your position. The powerful scent makes your eyes water, and you blink rapidly, trying to clear your hazy vision. Your heart drops into your stomach as that familiar rhythmic beating of hearts starts to come into earshot. Squeezing your eyes shut tightly, you listen closely, trying to discern how many hunters are trailing you.

One, two, three, four, five, six… Fuck, there are too many.

Kneeling behind an abandoned overturned wagon, your mind haphazardly flicks through various strategies. Avoiding a head-on assault would surely be the most sensible option. The Gur are highly trained monster hunters, making them a deadly quarry already, but these Gur would likely be fuelled by a rabid desire for vengeance after what occurred in the temple concealed beneath the Szarr Palace after the ritual had been completed.

They are inching closer to you in a practiced, systematic advancement. The increasing resonance of their hearts thundering in their chest gives you an estimate of their looming proximity. Moving slowly, keeping as low to the ground as you can muster, you creep away from your current hiding place, eyeing an angled corner that could provide you with some cover and, if you’re lucky, an escape route. Your boots sink into the gelatinous, muddy earth beneath you, eliciting a dull, squelching sound with every tentative step.

What had Astarion said - roll your foot down starting from the heel 1 joint at a time? How many joints are in a foot?

You scoff inwardly at the memory - Astarion had attempted to teach you his craft but had deemed you hopeless when you couldn’t even manage to improve your footwork after several lessons. In truth, you hadn’t put as much effort into learning as you should have because you found how flustered he would get at your ineptitude both amusing and utterly adorable.

Perhaps I should have taken my lessons more seriously.

Rounding the corner, you see the darkened outline of a hunter already standing at the fork in the path ahead of you. More of them rise from the long golden grass bordering the walkway. You can vaguely hear the slow, muffled footsteps approaching you from behind. It came as no surprise that they would’ve anticipated your movements. Corralling you in this cramped alley had been a well-planned trap, and you walked right into it. The pack of hunters strategically block any potential escape routes with ease as they encircle you, blades drawn and ready.

Fuck.

Your eyes dart frantically, examining your assailants one by one. A roaring tempest of loathing and disgust saturates their crazed eyes. You can virtually taste their acrid hate permeating the air. These people saw you as nothing more than an abhorrent monster to be put down. Their hearts hammer wildly in their chest, battering against their ribs in a morbidly musical cadence.

Settling into a defensive stance, you reach out to the weave, letting the well-known, comforting presence spread through every fibre of your being until you’re overflowing with it. The palm of your hand warms slightly as you prepare to cast. Spells hurtle through your memory as you struggle to settle on an appropriate one. 

“Impero tibi.”

You cast sleep on one of the Gur stalking in the tall yellowing grass, successfully incapacitating them, giving yourself an opening. The hunters attack in response, hurtling themselves towards you. 

Speaking the invocation for Misty Step, you dematerialize into a silvery fog just as a hunter thrusts the biting sharp edge of his sword towards you. Reappearing on the roof of a nearby home, you take some of the hunters by surprise. Casting recklessly, you manage to incapacitate several of them before they can recover. You take care not to kill even though it imposes risky limits on your ability to defend yourself. These people are just more innocent victims of Cazador and your misguided attempt to help Astarion reclaim the safety and happiness that was stolen from him centuries ago. You have damned an unfathomable number of souls to an eternity of suffering, including the Gur’s children, and you’re not keen to add additional blood to the sanguine sea you are already floundering in.

No more unnecessary bloodshed.

A hunter leaps onto the roof and swings his blade with a howling scream tearing from his throat. Throwing your body to the side, you manage to avoid most of the blow, but the cool, steel tip cuts into your snowy skin, slicing a shallow gash diagonally across your chest. The tangy metallic smell of blood infuses the air. It would be a pleasant aroma if it were not the scent of your blood saturating the breeze. Snarling with your fangs bared, you leap to the roof of the neighbouring small shack, hoping to get a little distance from your pursuer and the remaining hunters.

As soon as your boots thud on the wood shingles of the roof, you know you’re in trouble. The shingles are rotten and loose from years of exposure to the elements and neglect. They slide under your feet, throwing you off-kilter to your knees. You claw at the rotting wood, fingers trying to find purchase to stop your descent, but there is nothing to hold onto. You’re hurtled off the side of the roof to the slick, boggy ground in a heap.

The hunters drag you to your feet aggressively, thrusting your back up against the wood wall of that long-abandoned shack. The deteriorating timber whines under the pressure. The razor-sharp contoured steel of a dagger’s edge presses against your neck firmly. A scroll flashes and dissolves in the dim light cast by the low-hanging crescent moon, and a profound sense of fear mauls you savagely. Bolstering your resolve, you try to cling onto the weave, but it retreats and dissipates, rendering you unable to cast. The putrid tang of powdered iron vine and sweat makes your eyes sting, and your stomach twists in a violent upheaval.

Did they bathe in the stuff? Good Gods.  

“Where is your master?”  

My what? Oh…   

“I don’t know.” They will never believe you, but what did it matter? They will kill you regardless. 

Would I tell them even if I did know?

“Where is he hiding spawn!?” the hunter shouts furiously, spittle flying from his lips.

Spawn. This is what the “hero” of Baldur’s Gate has been reduced to.

Struggling, you try to shove them away, but their grip on you only intensifies. You recognize the faint hint of a Giant’s Strength potion lingering on their tepid breath. Attempting to escape their vice-like grip would be a useless endeavour. They’d known what they were hunting and came well-prepared. You shouldn't have expected any less.

Baring your fangs in frustration, you shout, “Did I stutter? I said I don’t fucking know!”

How long had the Gur been tracking you in the hope you’d lead them back to him, and why couldn’t they locate him without you? The last weeks you had spent with him, he’d scarcely been trying to conceal his identity, and a man like that hardly blends into a crowd. He turned heads everywhere he went. His very presence intrinsically commands attention.

Maybe he left Baldur’s Gate?

The mere thought makes your soul croon a forlorn, melancholic melody.

“Kill her. She either can’t or won’t give him up. She’s useless to us.”

The hunter nods their agreement with a ghoulish smile and unholsters the stake at their hip. An odd sense of relief floods through you at the prospect of your own demise; no more fear, no more pain, no more hunger. It sounds… peaceful. Your eyelashes flutter as you close your eyes in acquiescence, and ready yourself for the final blow.

You faintly hear the soft whispering hiss of a blade being drawn. One of the Gur holding you lets out a loud yelp, and their fingernails claw painfully at your skin as their hand is ripped from your arm.

“What was that?” the hunter shouts with ragged, trembling breath at their compatriot.

“I don’t know! I didn’t see any-” their voice halts abruptly, trailing off too little more than a hushed murmur vanishing into the gloomy twilight.

You squirm, trying to shake yourself free, tugging desperately at the arm squeezing you against the wall. Panicked, the remaining hunter plunges the stake towards you hastily. Their eyes bulge from their sockets and dart in all directions frenzied. As the stake draws nearer, your eyes reflexively squeeze shut.

A fitting end to my sad story, if nothing else.

A delicate gust of air hits your face, and your body is jerked forward as the force driving you into the wall is ripped away. You stagger slightly, and your arms swing out as you strive to regain your balance.

What in the Hells?

Your eyes snap open with surprise. Silvery rays of moonlight bounce handsomely off his alabaster skin, highlighting the chiselled planes of his face. A gentle breeze stirs and carries an all-too-familiar fragrance. Astarion heaves the hunter off their feet, suspending them in the air by their neck. They kick and flail desperately, trying to wriggle free from his grip. Guttural, rasping gurgles escape the hunter’s throat as their life is slowly squeezed out of them.

"Please, don't!"

Heart-stopping, deep crimson eyes flash in the chalky luminescence meeting yours. Gods, he’s even more beautiful than you remember. He sneers at you momentarily before closing his eyes and cocking his head sideways, grimacing as if what he’s about to do pains him physically. In a fluid, seemingly effortless motion, Astarion hurls the Gur into the wall with a resounding thud. The hunter falls in a motionless heap, unconscious but alive.

You can finally breathe a sigh of relief, but it’s short-lived. Blinding, searing pain radiates from your abdomen, causing muddled black orbs to flicker and dance in your vision. Looking down, the stake juts ominously out of your side. The hunter didn’t hit their target, but they hadn't missed entirely either. Your chest tightens as a rising panic grips you. Without thinking, you pull the stake free in a swift motion. It departs from your body with a sickening squelch, leaving a gaping wound in your side. Sticky blood starts to form a pool around your feet. The stake tumbles to the ground, falling out of your trembling grip.

Pressing your hand to your side, you glance up and meet Astarion’s gaze as your vision starts to tunnel.

“… Astarion?”

A nauseating dizziness seizes you, and your knees weaken. The last things you perceive are arms wrapping around you and your name ringing sweetly from his lips before you black out.  

Awareness fades in and out as you start to regain consciousness. Your eyelashes flutter, and you strain to pry your eyes open. They feel heavy and part open sluggishly. Your surroundings are just an obscure blur as your eyesight twists and undulates in rhythm with the pounding in your head.

Where am I? What in the Nine Hells happened?

Focus… I need to focus.

A nauseating drumming rasp thrums between your ears making efforts to concentrate painstakingly difficult. Vague snippets of memories start to form and clasp together piece by piece as you try to recall the last things you can remember.

Shadowheart.

The forest.

Hunger, all consuming, insatiable hunger.

The sickly-sweet scent of powdered iron vine.   

The Gur.

Dismay floods through you, and you leap out of a large four-poster bed. Agony radiates from your side and seers unforgivingly, igniting every nerve. Your legs fail and give way, knees colliding with the chilled floor. Trembling, you grit your teeth to stop yourself from crying out. As the harsh stabbing pain subsides, your sight begins to clear, and the chamber comes into focus bit by bit.

No... No, it can’t be...

A handful of variously sized candles illuminate the darkened space. The prodigious room is elaborately decorated in luxurious adornments but is otherwise empty except for you. Despite the additional ostentatious furnishings, you would recognize this place anywhere.

The Crimson Palace.

Pushing yourself up off the floor requires more effort than you would like to admit and leaves you feeling lightheaded. Chilly air caresses your skin, and you realize you’re in your undergarments with bandages wrapped snuggly around your chest and side. A hot flush of embarrassment explodes in your gut, rising upward like a rogue wave. If your skin could redden, you have no doubt you’d be as red as Karlach. Scanning the room, you see a clean robe has been neatly laid out, and you slip it on, thankful for the coverage. The floorboards creak beneath your feet as you pathetically try to sneak toward the closed door. 

I really should have been a better student.

The door hinges whimper as you carefully ease the bedroom door open. Peeking out from the small crack, you’re grateful to find the adjoining hallway is devoid of any sentient life. You tiptoe forward as softly as you can muster, but the ever-present faintness caresses the edges of your consciousness, making your gait unsteady. Tottering on your feet, the faded wooden floor whines mockingly at you.

Voices slowly come into earshot as you approach the end of the hallway. They start as a distorted mutter but become distinct as you inch further toward them. Instinct howls at you to run, but you would recognize that voice anywhere.

Shadowheart.

“She’s coming with me!” Shadowheart bristles. Her voice rings with a tangible agitation.

Astarion’s voice is a velvety dulcet in comparison, “Don't be foolish. She’s not safe with you, nor you with her.”

Shadowheart crosses her arms and shakes her head sneering in disbelief, “Are you seriously asking me to just… just leave her here with the likes of you?! Did the ritual rob you of your intelligence as well as your soul, Astarion?”

“Come now,” his words are soft, wrapped up in that beguiling tone you know so well, “don’t play stupid, my dear. It doesn’t suit you. The Gur will stop at nothing to capture and kill her. She’s not safe with you any longer. Surely, you want what’s best for her, don’t you? I can keep her safe."

Shadowheart snorts exasperatedly, “That’s rich, coming from you.”

His poise falters, and he slams his fist onto a large desk with an echoing bang, “She had a choice!” he snaps back defensively.

“Tell yourself whatever lies you wish, Astarion. It doesn’t change the facts.”

“Do shine your divine illumination on these “facts” for me.”

Her eyebrow cocks up contentiously, “Now who’s playing stupid?”

"She stays!” he growls deeply.

Shadowheart's hands move to her hips, and she widens her stance in a bold show of defiance, “Over my dead body.”

“Well…” his fingers come up to his chin thoughtfully, “That can certainly be arranged.” a sly smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

They’re so engrossed in their squabbling that they don’t notice you standing in the study’s wide archway observing them.

It’s hard to believe we were all friends once.

“Will you two give it a rest? Good Gods!”

Startled, their heads snap towards you in unison. Shadowheart’s eyes flood with relief at the sight of you. She hurries over and wraps her arms around you in a gentle hug. Your thoughts swirl with the temptation to bite her. Your body goes uncomfortably rigid, and you clench your fists, digging your nails deep into your palms as you fight your appalling desire to sink your fangs into her neck.

I won’t do it. I won’t!

Shadowheart quickly notices your discomfort and releases you, slowly backing away with her hands held up, “I’m sorry. I forget myself.”   

You give her a tight smile, “It’s okay.”

“You’re bleeding all over my new rug,” Astarion interjects bluntly and a bit aloof, pursing his lips, “again.”

“What?”

His eyes fall to your midsection. Following his gaze, you see a wet maroon stain blossoming on the front of your robe. Blood drips onto the rug from the hem swaying loosely around your ankles. Your wound must have reopened when you jumped out of bed in your panic.

Shadowheart rummages through her bag and tosses you a healing potion, “Your wounds were too dire for me to heal completely, I’m afraid.”

Drinking the potion makes you cringe as you swallow the syrupy liquid. Healing potions, really just potions in general, had never been particularly appealing, but since being turned into a spawn, everything took on the flavour and texture of ash. Except for blood, of course.

“How did you find me?”

She casts a glance back at Astarion who is standing there casually, arms crossed, looking beyond bored. Your bewilderment must be apparent.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised, darling. I am more than capable of seeking out assistance when I choose. I am many things, but a healer is not one of them.”

Shadowheart shakes her head and rolls her eyes, “I was as surprised as you are when he showed up. I very nearly plunged a stake through his ribs right then and there.”

“You would have died in the attempt,” he says nonchalantly with a dark, malicious smile.

Blazing with the red-hot fury of the Hells, she veritably flays him with her eyes. He snickers his delight fiendishly, a wry smile widening across his face. He always did thorough enjoy the way he could get under her skin.

Despite her customary zealous demeanour, you can see the exhaustion in Shadowheart’s face; dark, puffy bags forming under her eyes. It’s readily apparent she’s been up all night tending to you, and knowing them, arguing with him.

“You look exhausted, Shadowheart. You should go home and rest.”

Her brows draw down in a slight furrow, and her jaw clenches as she glances between you and Astarion apprehensively. It’s obvious she’s scared to leave you alone with him. 

I’m scared too.

Trying to conceal the fear, you plaster on the most soothing smile you can muster, "I'll be right behind you.” 

If he allows me to leave…

She sighs, “Fine, but I expect to see you later, and if I don’t...” she trails off, turning to Astarion, “I’ll kill you, Astarion, even if it’s the last thing I do.” 

He smirks, entertained by her threats and bows shallowly, “It was lovely seeing you again, flower.”

With a final exasperated grumble, Shadowheart stalks down the hall and disappears, leaving you alone with Astarion, who is eyeing you with a hawkish intensity. You shuffle your feet uncomfortably under his probing glare.   

He is truly a sight to behold. Yellow candlelight flits and flickers in the deep scarlet hue of his irises. He holds himself with an elegant confidence that commands attention. It’s no wonder so many unfortunate souls met their grim fate after making the mistake of falling for him, enthralled by his masterfully executed masquerade.  

Just as I did. 

Even now, although your fear runs like drifting ice through your veins, you find his presence oddly comforting. You desire nothing more than to run to him and be wrapped up in his strong arms to spend eternity safe in his cool embrace. How many nights alone did you spend silently crying missing him? 

This isn’t my Astarion – not anymore. 

A mournful sign escapes your lips as you swallow the lump in your throat and blink away the tears welling up in your eyes.      “Positively elated to see me, I see.” Astarion purrs deeply as he takes a step closer to you.  

You take a step back, wanting to preserve the distance between you and him. It’s an odd feeling, wanting to run from him and to him simultaneously. Astarion raises his hands in a gesture feigning innocence, ceasing his advance. A pained expression is momentarily adorned on his face, but it’s so fleeting you wonder if it was ever even there or if you had just imagined it.  

“Why?” your voice comes out in a barely audible, timid whisper.

His brows knit together in confusion, “You’re going to have to be more specific. Why what?”

“Why save me?”   

Astarion leans forward slightly, "Would you have preferred the alternative, darling? Should I have just let those vile Gur put you down?”

“Yes,” you say bleakly.  

There had been a serene kind of peace, knowing the end of this ordeal was coming. It would have been a merciful reprieve from this nightmare you were trapped in. His eyes widen in surprise, a wave of shock sweeps over his features, disquieted by your brutal honesty. Astarion straightens, and he stands there staring at you apprehensively as if unsure how to respond. An array of almost imperceptible emotions flit across his face in rapid succession, but there’s no way to discern what they are with any degree of accuracy. He shakes his head bringing himself out of his thoughts. His eyes narrow, and that cold stone mask he wears slips securely back into place.  

“You die when I let you.”

Master List of Chapters: Fangs and Fractured Hearts

If you're interested I write another fic with Spawn Astarion x Tav called - Shadows of the Past

AO3 [Crossposted]

[nerdynarrator28]

Storm of the Heart-Tyler Owen’s x Reader PT. 3

Synopsis: Being a sister to one of the notorious storm chaser crews online was a lot, You were Boone’s Sister, you have always heard stories from him and watched all the videos when they were live storm chasing. One Day your Brother invites you to go Storm Chasing with him and the crew, what will happen during that time? Will you and a Certain Storm Chaser get close to each other?

Pairings: Tyler Owen’s x Reader

Word Count:667

Author Note: Thank you Everyone! Who has made my story an Hit! And for everyone enjoying it! I have decided to write a part 3 ❤️🤗 Enjoy!!

Six months had passed since you and Tyler officially became a couple. Your relationship had weathered its fair share of storms, both literal and metaphorical. Balancing your regular job with your growing passion for storm chasing – and Tyler – wasn't always easy, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

Today marked a significant milestone: your first major chase as a full-fledged member of the team. You'd finally taken the plunge, quitting your job to chase storms full-time alongside Tyler and Boone.

As you prepped the equipment, you felt Tyler's arms wrap around you from behind. "Nervous?" he asked, his breath warm against your ear.

You leaned into him, smiling. "A little. But mostly excited."

"You've got this," he assured you, planting a quick kiss on your cheek before moving to help the others.

Boone approached, a mixture of pride and concern on his face. "Ready for your big debut, sis?"

You nodded, determination setting in. "Born ready."

The chase was unlike anything you'd experienced before. A massive supercell was spawning multiple tornadoes, keeping the entire team on high alert. You found yourself working in perfect sync with Tyler, calling out observations and helping navigate through the treacherous conditions.

As you tracked a particularly large tornado, Tyler's voice crackled over the radio. "We need to get closer for better data. Y/N, you up for it?"

Your heart raced with a mixture of fear and excitement. "Let's do it."

You maneuvered your vehicle closer to the twister, adrenaline pumping through your veins. The wind howled around you, debris flying past in a deadly dance.

Suddenly, a violent gust rocked your car. You fought to maintain control, your training kicking in. "Tyler, I'm losing grip here!"

"Hold on, I'm coming to you!" His voice was tense but steady.

As you struggled with the wheel, a memory flashed through your mind – Tyler teaching you emergency maneuvers, his hands guiding yours, his voice calm and reassuring. Drawing strength from that memory, you managed to steer the vehicle to safety.

When the storm finally passed, you sat in your car, hands shaking slightly. Tyler's vehicle screeched to a halt beside you, and he was at your door in seconds.

"Y/N! Are you okay?" His eyes were wild with worry as he helped you out.

You nodded, still a bit dazed. "I'm fine. That was... intense."

He pulled you into a tight embrace. "You were amazing out there. I've never seen anyone handle a situation like that so well on their first major chase."

Boone's voice interrupted the moment. "If you two are done with the romance novel scene, we've got data to collect."

You both laughed, the tension breaking. As you worked alongside the team to gather readings and assess the damage, you felt a profound sense of belonging. This was where you were meant to be.

Later that night, as the team celebrated another successful chase, Tyler pulled you aside. "I've got something for you," he said, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

He handed you a small box. Inside was a beautiful pendant – a silver tornado with a tiny diamond at its heart.

"Tyler, it's gorgeous," you breathed.

He took the necklace, gently fastening it around your neck. "I wanted to give you something to commemorate your first official chase. And to remind you that no matter how chaotic things get out there, you'll always be the calm at the center of my storm."

Tears pricked at your eyes as you kissed him, pouring all your love and gratitude into the gesture.

Boone's voice once again broke the moment. "Alright, you two. Enough mushiness. We've got another system forming tomorrow, and I need my best team well-rested."

As you joined the others, Tyler's arm around your waist and your new pendant resting against your heart, you knew you'd found your true calling. Life with Tyler and the chase team would never be predictable or easy, but it would always be thrilling, passionate, and deeply fulfilling.

The road ahead might be fraught with dangers, both from the storms you chased and the challenges of balancing love and career. But with Tyler by your side and your newfound family of storm chasers supporting you, you were ready to face whatever cyclones life might throw your way