#Which is ironic as it's the night that's supposed to be scary to everyone

[teethofthedeeps]

hc + 🌞 for a day-themed headcanon

Thematic Headcanons.

The night may hold terrors to many for it is the unknown that hides in the darkness but for Stoplight, it is the other way around. It is the darkness that provides comfort, offering him a place to hide, to hunt and to thrive. Daylight offers no such security however, hurting his eyes with how bright everything is and there is no terror like the surface being illuminated for all who live within it. During the day, Stoplight hides away from the sun, nestled in the furthest reaches of the underwater cave he now calls home. Daylight is so bright, painfully so and worse, it provides no cover for him whatsoever. He's exposed, vulnerable in the open therefore Stoplight holds no love for the day. Night is a little better but even then the moon can betray his presence just like her sister, the sun. The two orbs way up in the sea of stars might as well both be his enemy. Rest is all Stoplight can do when daylight arrives, having fled back to his den as soon as dawn starts breaking over the horizon. In the darkness of his cavern, he can do little else but wait until the sun falls again and may pass the time examining his hoard, studying all the strange objects he's picked up around the coastline.

[anoddrock]

Thinking. We don’t even live in a surveillence state we live in a surveillance culture.

How fucked up is that. I’m elaborating under the cut

In my experience, with my generation, you kind of automatically become an outcast if you don’t at least have a little social media. It’s not like everyone needs to be posting things, but you need to be on there. Braindead doomscrolling is a known common thing because everyone has social media, and eventually you get sucked into the time killer of cute videos. Everyone has a phone. All your texts are kept forever, your one on one and group conversations, and your parents can peruse them at their will. I’m odd for not keeping my phone in my room at night. I’m not allowed to keep my phone in my room at night. No one is too surprised to hear my parents used to monitor all my texts.

Snapchat is where you share your day with your friends, and you have streaks. There are rewards for making sure people know what you’re doing at least once a day. You have to use photos for this app. It has access to your camera.

Also, you need to check your emails All The Time, which only adds to a need-to-know anxiety, but if you try to limit your checking in on emails specifically, as in not checking at least twice a day, your irresponsible and unreliable. This is my experience in highschool. The hell actual jobs must be is scary to think on.

Then there’s Instagram, Facebook, TikTok, whatever, where you’re supposed to tell people stuff. No one really checks in as much, because if it’s a big thing, you’ll post about it. It needs to be on the internet, put it on the internet, but don’t forget to be careful because once it’s on the internet, you can never really take it down. But put it up. All the cautions thrown at me as a child vs the societal expectation to share anything of great meaning.

A surveillance state is scary enough to think about. Cameras on every corner and the government able to know anything about you any time it wants to.

But we’re making that on our own. Ring cameras. People posting pictures of you without asking. The expectation that you can learn more about someone by just following their socials.

Idk if this is very cohesive, but I just kinda want to put it out to be seen. How ironic is that

[last-lorekeeper]

( @admin-courtneys-corner )

“shamefully i will admit…my curiosity is peaked…if you’re gonna dangle a berry on a stick in front of my face…i might as well bite.”

“what was you’re courtney like..?”

Well, I mean, first of all "is" would probably be a better word to use here. "Was" implies she's dead or that she disappeared which would be very funny in an ironic way but also very sad.

Well, when I knew her back when I was undercover in Magma she didn't really have many friends. It was pretty much just Tabitha, everyone else was too off-put by her. I think the first thing the Grunt giving me the tour told me was to avoid her as much as possible. So, of course, I ignored this suggestion completely and snuck into her office at the first opportunity. I almost got fired right there but using my roguish charm and sick skills I ended up getting promoted to Agent instead.

We became fast friends after that which is to say I just kind of hung out around her until she went from being mildly annoyed at my presence to enjoying my company. Us weird, unsettling girls have to stick together, after all. Tabitha was also there but we spent most of our time bickering. I like to think he liked me, though. Course, I was doing all of this under a fake name because I wasn't really supposed to be doing this and wasn't keen on anybody who knew me recognizing me. It's why I wore a full face mask too.

Wait, none of this answers your question. I think you two are pretty similar. You share more or less the same speech pattern, you both claim a dislike for Aqua despite hanging out with Shelly (no word on if that's led to a relationship in my world, yet, but I'll avoid gossiping for once in my life), you're both incredibly smart, neither of you is exactly a people person. Though, recently, my Courtney's been coming out of her shell more. She used to let Tabitha do most of the talking in most situations, rarely interacting with others unless she was giving orders. She's been more social recently. Not, like, a lot but I've seen her having actual conversations with people who aren't Tabitha or Maxie, which is an accomplishment on her part. And I mean that as praise.

She also... well... she really holds a grudge. And she's really scary when she's angry which is saying a lot because I don't scare easily. To this day I don't think she's ever fully forgiven me for betraying her (she puts it as "betraying Team Magma" or "betraying Leader Maxie" but I know what she really means) and she definitely hasn't forgiven Mare for, you know, obvious reasons. I guess that's why she was such an easy target for Groudon to use as a backup Chosen. Very easy to get inside the head of someone whose mind is clouded by anger.

I've tried reaching out a few times with... limited success. The only time we ever really interact in a meaningful way is Board Game Night and it's mostly her slaughtering me (I'll beat her one of these days I swear). So I guess, ironically, she's the one who's spurning me.

Also I taught her how to throw knives. I wonder if she's been keeping up with her practice on that.

[lovesosweeet]

better left unsaid // cth

chapter forty five

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn’t know.

calum hood x fem!oc

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november 23, 2016 madrid, spain orion

Ever since I found out I’d for sure be studying in Madrid, Emelia coming to visit has been something I’ve been looking forward to. She got in over the weekend and we’ve been spending the days visiting all my favorite places as soon as I get out of class. Thankfully they’re almost all in the morning, so we have most of the day to do things together.

We’ve spent the nights at each of my favorite clubs and went to tour the Real Madrid arena yesterday. Today we took it easy and just went to El Palacio Royal after got out of class at 2:00, and we’re finally taking her to the ever-mysterious Space Monkey tonight. 

We’re back at the apartment now, eating falafel sandwiches and drinking shitty beer while we sing 5SOS songs with all my flatmates. Emelia fits in so well with my friends here, and it makes me wish she’d done the same program with me so we could’ve experienced the whole thing together.

I’m so happy to have my favorite person in my favorite city. 

Well, I suppose Emelia and Calum are now tied for the favorite person title. 

Calum is planning on coming back to Madrid a final time for the week after my finals, and then we’ll fly back to California together, but he’ll be going home to Australia afterward for the holidays. I somewhat wish they’d both come at the same time, but it is nice to give both of them a week of my full attention.

They also haven’t met yet, so maybe planning that they both spend a week together for their first time meeting would have been a not-so-good idea.

Emelia coming was also good for me because she left a lot of space in her suitcase so she can take home some of the mountain of clothes I’ve bought while being here. She just brought a few basics — jeans, plain shirts, shoes — with the intention of borrowing some of my clothes to make more complete outfits. She’s lucky we’re a similar size, and I’m lucky that I don’t have to pay for another suitcase on the ride home. 

My phone is the one connected to the speaker when it starts to ring. I check the time and realize it’s the usual time that Calum calls me on Facetime, but I’m in the bathroom, in the middle of curling my hair, while everyone else is in the living room.

“It’s Calum!” Emelia singsongs.

“One of you guys can answer it! I’m almost done!” I yell back.

I hear the ringing get cut off, and then I hear everyone else say “hola” in sync.

“Oh wow, uh, hi everyone,” Calum says. My phone is connected to the speaker still, so I can hear him clearly. 

“I’m excited! I finally get to see proof that you’re real!” Emelia says.

I roll my eyes. She’s seen all the pictures of us together and has seen that he follows me on Instagram. She’s overheard me take a call from him every other day this week, but usually I step out into somewhere private so I can talk to him.

“I could say the same to you, Emelia,” Cal replies. “If that’s even your real name.”

I smile at their interaction. I knew they’d get along. 

“Hey, Cal,” Paula says. “You excited to be here in a few weeks?”

“I’m excited to see Orion and Madrid again, but you guys, eh, not so much.”

“Hey, fuck you, Calum!” Ilse says. I imagine she’s flipping him off. “Good thing I’m leaving the day you get here.”

“I’m just kidding! I love you guys,” Calum says to make amends with his teasing. 

“Not as much as you love Orion!” Marta singsongs, and it makes me almost burn my face with my curling iron.

Calum clears his throat. 

We haven’t said it. We haven’t said the “L word” to each other, but God knows I do love him. I love him a scary amount, considering I really haven’t spent that much time with him. It’s been a month or two worth of weekends and then the five or so days he spent here last month, coupled with lots of time on Facetime and as much texting as the two of us can manage considering the time differences and our busy schedules. 

I love him, and I want to think he feels the same, but I’ve been to terrified to say it. It’s been a long time since I felt like I was in love, but it’s not a feeling I can mistake for anything else. I do hope that we’re on the same page, but Marta forcing it out of him is definitely not the way I’d like to hear about it. 

I try to just focus on curling my hair.

“What are you guys up to today?” Calum says to redirect the conversation.

“Orion had class like a loser, and then we went to the palace. We’re going to Space Monkey tonight!” Emelia explains.

“Fuck you, Em!” I yell, and everyone laughs. 

“Damn, hitting all the good stuff. I’m jealous,” Cal says. 

“Hey, you’ve already done all this. I’m jealous of you,” Emelia argues.

Finally, I’m done with my hair. I unplug the curling iron and head out to the living room. I find everyone huddled around my phone, still chatting with my boyfriend on Facetime. 

“Can I have my phone please?” I ask, popping my head into the frame to see Calum and I smile. He’s wearing the beanie that I gave him when he was here last. He’d worn one when he arrived but he lost it somewhere, and I gave him the one I had but hadn’t needed to wear yet. It’s a blue and yellow UCLA bruins beanie with a pompom on top. 

“There she is!” Cal says, his smile growing even bigger when he sees me.

“Hi,” I reply with a smile that’s roughly just as massive as his.

“Ugh, I knew you guys were cute but I didn’t think it was this bad,” Emelia groans. 

I roll my eyes, reaching out to grab my phone. “Let me disconnect from the speaker and I’ll go to my room.”

I turn off my phone’s bluetooth while I start walking away from everyone, all of whom are yelling their goodbyes to Calum. Cal just smiles at his phone while I walk.

“Your hair looks pretty, babe,” he says.

My cheeks heat up and I smile slightly. “Thank you.” 

“Hey, no letting guys startle you and spilling drinks on them tonight, yeah?”

I groan. “Cal, you’re literally the only person who’d do that.”

He giggles. “Yeah, I mean a much more normal approach would’ve been to say something like ‘excuse me’ before touching someone.”

“And even if someone does, I’ll karate chop them in the nuts and say I have a hot boyfriend only a 12 hour long flight away.”

That sends him into a fit of laughter, complete with snorts. “Orion, you and I both know you wouldn’t karate chop anyone.”

I sigh. He’s right. “Well, I’ll still tell them I have a hot boyfriend.”

“Your boyfriend isn’t as hot as my girlfriend.”

“I disagree,” I tell him, and I do. I’ve always felt like Calum was out of my league.

“We can agree to disagree, but I’m right.”

“But then we’re not really agreeing to disagree!”

We both laugh at each other. We’re both stubborn, and the argument will go in circles forever if we let it. 

“We don’t have to talk much, I know you’ve got Em there and everything,” he says. 

“Well, I at least want to hear about how your day is going,” I tell him. He’s heard about mine and Emelia’s, but he hasn’t said anything about his.

“My day is fine, just normal stuff. Hung out with Roy earlier, and hitting the gym after we hang up. I’ll probably go to the grocery store later.”

I sigh. “Oh, to be a rockstar with no obligations.”

“Hey! You know I worked hard to get to this point.”

I giggle. “I know, I know. I’m just teasing. Are you gonna start any writing sessions with the boys anytime soon? You haven’t really mentioned work since the end of the tour.”

He seems to perk up at my mention of his work. I know he loves his job, but now that they’re done with the tour, he hasn’t talked much about his bandmates or music. “Oh, so we’re all taking a break from each other for the time being, but we want to start writing again when the holidays are over and we’re all back in LA.”

I nod. They did just spend a ton of time together in very close quarters, so it makes sense that they may need a break. “That makes sense. You guys don’t hang out much when you’re on hiatus? I know you see Ash quite a bit still.”

“Oh, yeah, we haven’t much this month since Mike’s in Georgia with Crystal’s family for the holiday and Luke went straight home to Oz at the end of the tour. Y’know, since the breakup.” 

“Is it… final this time?” I ask. His on and off girlfriend of some extended period of time had cheated on him the last I heard, but I don’t know how “on” they really were at that time, so the lines of cheating may have been blurred for them. 

Calum nods his head quickly. “Yeah, that’s not happening anymore. He blocked her everywhere. Or, I guess, I blocked her everywhere at his request. He couldn’t do it.” 

“Shit. Why didn’t you tell me that?” I ask. 

I feel like I update him on everything in my life in detail, whereas he doesn’t share nearly as much about his friends and the happenings in their lives. I catch pieces of it here and there, like what he and Roy, who’s his roommate, are doing. He and Ashton see a show together at this shitty dive bar they both love at least once a week, but I haven’t heard about Luke, Michael, Crystal, or really that much about Ashton aside from that they hang out. 

Cal sighs. “I guess I’m just used to being a pretty private person. I also wasn’t really sure if you’d like to hear the gorey details of everyone’s business, including mine. I know it can be a lot sometimes…”

“Cal, they’re all important to you. Of course I’d like to know anything that you find important. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to share, but I love learning about the people in your life.”

He smiles and then starts shaking his head while he laughs. “You’re always so good at saying the right thing.”

“I don’t know if I’d say that,” I counter.

“You do! It’s one of the things I love most about you.”

I freeze. Did he just say that? 

He quickly realizes what he’s said and then we’re both staring at each other with wide eyes in complete silence. I know I love him. I’m fairly certain he loves me, and, well, he jut said that. He loves things about me, so that means he loves me, right?

“Fuck,” he whispers.

Well, that’s not what I wanted to hear.

“Wait, no, not fuck! I don’t mean it like that! I’ve been meaning to tell you, but then I was talking to Ash about it and we decided I should wait and tell you in person, so I was going to tell you in a few weeks when I see you. I wanted to tell you over dinner or something nice, but I was probably gonna blurt it out as soon as I saw you, to be honest, but I definitely didn’t want to just let it slip over Facetime, and that’s why I said fuck.”

He’s partially talking to himself and partially talking to me. His cheeks are bright red with a blush and he’s just rambling on. It’s cute, and perfectly fits us and our story, so I just smile. 

“That was a whole lot of words to still not say it, Cal.”

If it’s possible, his eyes go even wider. “Fuck, you’re right,” he says and laughs. “Sorry, I keep making this worse.”

I raise my eyebrows, signalling that he still needs to say it. 

“Orion, I love you.”

It feels like my heart flies out of my chest. My smile feels like it takes up my entire face. 

“I love you too, Cal.”

We both smile at our phones like idiots as the words sink in for both of us.

“Damn, I wish you were already here. This kinda sucks when you’re so far away.”

Calum sighs. “I know, I’m sorry. I wanted to wait.”

I shake my head. “No, I mean… I’ve been holding it in for a while. Nice to not worry about saying it anymore.”

He grins at me. “When did you realize?”

“When you showed up and made me realize you actually liked me.”

“That’s all it took?” He asks.

“I was in denial about everything before that! I don’t know. I was dumb about it all.” 

“Fair,” he says through giggles. “But you weren’t dumb. I should’ve been more explicit about things.”

I shrug. “Worked out okay for us.”

“I agree.”

“When did you know?” I ask. 

“Stockholm.”

Holy shit. I’d seen him in Madrid, London, Rome, Amsterdam, Stockholm, and Copenhagen. He loved me after only knowing me for a month? I thought that I had been sitting on my feelings for a long time, but in reality, Calum has. 

“Calum!”

“What?”

“How did you hold that in for so long? I’ve been holding back for like, a month, but you’ve been holding that in since July?!” 

He shrugs. “I wanted the moment to be perfect, and I wanted to be sure you’d say it back.”

Calum and I keep talking for a bit longer, with him filling me in more on Luke’s breakup and what’s going on with the rest of the people in his life. He tells me to have a good night out and, despite my protests, sends me some money on Venmo to cover our night at Space Monkey. We’re both all bashful and giddy when we say ‘I love you’ again, and when I hang up, I run back to the living room.

“Guys!” I yell, still unable to stop smiling. 

They all turn to me, eyebrows raised, silently asking me to explain.

“He said he loves me!”

That’s all it takes for everyone to become a squealing mess, all jumping up to hug me and screaming mixes of ‘told you so’ and ‘oh my god’ and ‘you guys are so cute.’ 

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a/n: guys we're in the home stretch. thank you for sticking with me through this journey!! :')

[angrybell]

So this was… odd and disturbing last night.

Last night, we had a retirement event at a bar for tow people who were finally retiring. We’re talking about Portugal and some work stuff and generally just light, fun stuff.

Then, I forget who, one of the people I work with says “Does everyone feel that we have a chance now?” She was referring to Kamala Harris. Another woman said she had been on the fundraising call the other day donating money to the campaign.

And I sat and watched as people who are supposed to be intelligent rewrote the last 8 years, claiming that Kamal was, if anything, over-qualified for the job. Most of the people sitting around the table tried to make themselves believe that she got where she is today solely on her own merit and that it was just misogynist Republicans who were spreading lies that she had gotten any help because of who she dated. Fortunately, one of the retiring people had what I can only say was a “senior moment” and reminded them that, no, Kamala had been Willie Brown’s side piece in the 90s.

Then they tried to rationalize her ascent saying that Brown only put her on the various boards after they stopped dating. Which to them made everything all right.

Then they moved on to Biden. They waxed poetic about Biden, saying “It’s such a shame that his problems came on so quickly.”

I had to bite my lip. I heard multiple times “We couldn’t have known, he’s always had that stuttering problem.” Like the whole 1990s to 2016 never happened when no one heard stutter.

Then my boss goes “And that Trump thing was clearly staged. They aimed to do that to him.”

My boss believes that a guy who could not make the high school rifle team could take an budget AR-15 and hit just the ear on purpose, even though he would, and was, certainly be gunned down by the Secret Service. And this whole thing was masterminded by Trump and his people.

What’s worse, everyone except one person nodded along and agreed with it except for me and one other guy (who is very dyed in the wool liberal). And we both said “that makes no sense!” But they all indicated that this was what they believed.

And then there was nods as someone mentioned Project 2025 and how we’re all going to camps if Trump wins and implements it.

These are supposed to be smart, educated people. And they have just accepted uncritically every conspiracy theory about Trump in the space of 10 minutes.

It was like a Hollywood version of what west coast liberals are like if it they were lampooning them in a comedy. Think those videos that the Babylon Bee does lampooning liberals, and you’re close.

The absolute disdain for anyone who didn’t share their beliefs, though, was scary. They could not conceive of a way that anyone could not want to go along with the Democrats except because they were either ruled by emotions or racist, or both.

We’ll see how long the Kamala Harris honeymoon goes. They are astonishingly unfamiliar with her record.

I can’t say I’ve been around Trump supporters from everywhere in the country, but I’ve been around them out here. There’s a recognition of his warts. To some he’s a necessary evil. To some he’s a just a tool to stop what they perceive as Democrats attempt to reshape the culture or simply because they hope Trump mean DC demands less of our paychecks.

But the level of cult-like behavior I witnessed tonight was staggering from my co-workers. Harris and Biden were pure paladins fighting prevent a Trump dictatorship is the bottom line of what I heard. And it wasn’t said ironically. It was an earnest, sincere belief.

[derpmallow]

tony stark would love puss in boots the last wish.

spoilers if u havent see the movie, which u should, its SO GOOD

He would be reluctant to watch it, and i feel like peter would drag him into it, but by the end I’m sure he’d have shed a few tears. He’s not heartless, after all.

As a movie that deals with puss, who faces death, and the legacy he leaves behind (one scene which deals with this that I think would rly hit home is the scene where puss is talking to his last lives and they talk about the Legend like it's everything, and the memory of puss racing past the setting sun is brought up not for the first time. Except, this time, puss only thinks about lonely nights in the rain with no one by his side and says, "was the Legend so big there wasn't room for anyone else?", Which I totally think Tony would draw to Iron Man, and how doing something so dangerous drove away Pepper, much like puss’s love for adventure and the Legend pushed kitty away) There's no way Tony doesn't see himself in puss, from his early years a lot like puss's life in the start of the movie, drunk and throwing parties, always in the limelight, and in a time of need, there's not really anyone he can turn to because he's pushed everyone away (with rhodey out a lot with the military, pepper not being able to handle the stress that comes with Iron Man, a feeling that no one else understands the whole superhero gig, and why he does it), he’d see pepper in kitty, badass and scary when she wants to be, but kind at heart. How she knows what she wants and how to get it. He’d see peter in perrito, overwhelming innocence, and unfathomable optimism, even though he knows how cruel the world can be, both peter and perrito still want to help people.

Tony knows what he does is dangerous. Every time he faces a new threat, defends new york against whatever the threat is, he knows he could die. Puss’s desperation to get his lives back so he can live up to the Legend and be who he feels he’s supposed to is something Tony would no doubt relate to, and don’t get me started on the panic attack puss has after seeing death. He’s not supposed to be afraid, it’s one of the first lines in the whole movie, and puss sings a whole song about it, yet he’s running from something only he seems to be able to see. That scene where Tony has a panic attack for the first time and he’s all like “me?” because he’s Tony Stark, who doesn’t get panic attacks, because why would he? The desperation puss has when kitty tosses him the map after seeing death in the caverns is a fear only he knows, like the fear that comes with knowing he wont always succeed, that he hasn’t always succeeded. Kitty and perrito haven’t seen death, haven’t had the whole “never been touched by a blade” comment tossed out the window within their first meet. The fight with death on the wishing star is something Tony knows he does every time he puts on the suit, that he, too, is on his last life and might not come home to pepper and peter like puss got the chance to with kitty and perrito.

The little talk perrito gives puss about how he’s only ever had one life, but spending it with puss and kitty made it as amazing as it is would totally remind Tony of something peter might’ve said to him in the past, and the acceptance puss has at the end of the movie, still leading a life of adventure, but perhaps with less risk, surrounded by those he cares for would for sure leave a lasting impression on Tony as the movie comes to a close.

idk if any of this made sense, but yea. I think Tony would rly like that movie :)

[mhdiaries]

Wave 1 Clawdeen Wolf Diary

*kindly sent in by @fedorasquidwithglasses*

July 14th

I got up late so there was no hot water left then I cut myself shaving this morning cause my razor was dull and I was in a hurry to get out of the freezing water but amazingly enough the day actually went down hill from there… Later on Crescent, the alpha kitty, must have sensed my mood cause instead of spending the night prowling around her curled up in my lap and kept me company while I sorted through my funk.

July 15th

It rained today. I hate the rain. It totally caused my hair to poof out and I was not about to spend the rest of the day looking like a were-poodle. So I grabbed a pair of electric clippers and 15 minutes later I had new ‘do. It’s short, scary cute and perfectly wolfish. I think I’ll keep it for a while or at least until this rain goes away. I have decided that when I control my own fashion empire I’m going to have a stylist on call just for rainy days.

August 4th

I hate, hate, hate! Sharing a room with my sister. Howleen totally growls in her sleep, she wears my clothes and she got sprayed by a skunk last week which means that every time she takes a bath, which isn’t often, it stinks up the whole room. I’d hope she gets fleas but she’d just spread them to me.

August 7th

I’ve got to get serious about planning what I’m going to wear on the first day of school this year. I mean it’s not like I’m worried about some monster showing up and looking more fabulous than me but I feel obligated to set the bar for everyone else. Last year on the first day of school I caused a minor traffic jam just walking across the school parking lot. Its going to be hard to top that but I’ve been experimenting with some new hair styles and I’m considering just asking for a school assembly so that crowd control won’t be a problem.

August 10th

I tried a new hair remover made especially for werewolves. The label says it will totally eclipse unwanted hair and it’s supposed to keep you hair-free for a week…not. It’s expensive, it stings worse than wolfs bane and I still have to shave twice a day! What a rip…I could have used that money for a new belt.

August 15th

Spent the day at Draculaura’s. She’s the absolute sweetest BMFF ever! Although if she doesn’t stop trying to feed me tofu I’m going to bite her j/k ;p. She has like rooms and rooms of clothes. It’s like a fashion museum. So awesome! She always says that we’re going to pick out clothes to give Ghoul Will but she always gives most of them to me. I pretend I don’t need them but with so many brothers and sisters it’s not like there’s a lot of extra money to go around for new fashions. I guess we must have gotten a little loud though cause we woke up her dad. He doesn’t really like werewolves very much but he tolerates me cause I’m friends with Draculaura. Whatever. It’s not like I want to hang out with him either. Anyway, the best thing about Draculaura is that she doesn’t give me clothes because she feels sorry for me, she does it because she’s my friend.

August 19th

When to The Maul with Clawd today. He needed a new football and I needed to get some ideas for my next hair style. While I was there I saw the strangest thing. I was walking past the Witches Kitchen supply store and saw Deuce Gorgon reading a cookbook! I yelled “Yo Deuce, trying to find a recipe for snake?” He dropped the cookbook and looked all embarrassed; at least I think he was. It’s hard to tell what’s going on behind those glasses. I think he would have tried to stone me but Clawd walked up and Deuce chilled. Sometimes it’s cool to have the toughest guy in the school on your side. Thanks bro!

August 21st

If I were a mad scientist, the hairstyle experiment I tried today would be locked away in the lab never to see the light of day again. I flat ironed my hair so it was straight and then I razor cut it. As soon as the curl came back things got ugly. Even Howleen felt sorry for me. It’s a good thing I’m the werewolf equivalent of Rapunzel and my hair will be grown out by the end of the week or I’d be wearing a hat until Halloween.

August 23rd

Draculaura tried to talk me into trying out for the Fearleading squad again. Puhh..leeze. A list of why I’m not a fearleader:

1. I don’t “try out” for anything. 2. I wouldn’t be caught human in those uniforms. 3. -8. Boring and Cleo de Nile 4. While they’re yelling for the boys I’m in the stands flirting with the boys. 5. Boring and Cleo de Nile

I have thought about trying out just to show I could make the team but then I look at my list again and it reminds me why I don’t’ want to.

August 25th

Hung out an the Maul with Draculaura and met a new girl named Frankie Stein. She was shopping with her mom and fortunately for Frankie they ran into us. Otherwise she would have started the first day of school dressed like the Bride of Lame-n-stein. Frankie’s beautiful, and sweet but bit naïve. Fortunately, I’m here to make sure she gets properly educated in the ways of the fierce fashionista.

September 5th

Our annual End of Summer family boo-b-que was today. Mmmmm… fat juicy steaks for everybody. Except for Draculaura of course. She brought tofu dogs, veggie burgers and a human boy named Jackson Jekyll. She’ll always be my BMFF and the sweetest monster ever but ghoulfriend makes some strange choices. Anyway, I could tell he was really nervous, and what human surrounded by werewolves wouldn’t be, until Clawd started talking about football and then the two of them kinda hit it off. I think Draculaura is major league crushing on this guy.

September 6th

I know most monsters are probably dreading starting school but not me. I want to learn as much as I can so that I’ll be totally prepared when I start building my fashion empire. If for nothing else than to be able to move out of the house and get my own place without having to share everything with all my brothers and sisters. Oh no! I think I smell Howleen in the shower! Why couldn’t I have been an only wolf?

[darklydeliciousdesires]

The Dark Passenger - Chapter Twenty One.

Your weekly fix of Camille and EZ is here, besties! As usual, thank you so much for following this and offering your feedback :) Enjoy!

Previous chapters - One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen  Sixteen  Seventeen  Eighteen  Nineteen  Twenty

Words - 3,262

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed

“So, going forward, after our plan has been executed, it would leave the path clear to instead bring in another income. Nothing says we can’t revert back to the heroin trade at some point in the future, but for now, and especially after having your grievances in my ear for the last few months over the growing rate of dead junkies, we need to cease. Stepping back and shutting down the pipeline as well as the LNG will facilitate that entirely. We have to be smart, save us all seeing the inside of a cell for the next twenty-five years to live. I ain’t about to let that happen.”

The figureheads of the various Mayan charters who sat around the Santo Padre table all nodded, everyone in agreement that EZ’s way forward was preferable to the risks they were taking. Much too much heat was on them, with the government sending far too many pairs of eyes in their direction, in order to uncover the supply of fentanyl cut heroin that was causing junkies to drop like flies. Four hundred and eighty-three inmates within the Californian prison systems alone had died in the previous seventy days. They couldn’t continue on that road, which was now ablaze before them; it was only a matter of time before it burned them to nothing, should they continue to ride along it.

The gavel fell, the men all filing out to retrieve cell phones and weapons, EZ, Bishop and Angel remaining behind at the table, the latter smiling proudly at his brother.  

“This was always the way it was supposed to be.” He lifted his chin, nodding. “The way you’re running this club now, using your intelligence, we’re gonna be alright. It was scary for a minute back there, I can tell you. Me and Bish, you had us all kinds of worried when it was your tumour talking.”

“He’s right, mijo,” Bishop confirmed, sinking his drink. “The only thing keeping me awake at night these days is my wife, which trust me, I’m more than happy with.” His wink had them both laughing, the men standing from the table, a sense of relief tying them back together once more, those broken bonds now restitched. His plan, it was flawless. He just had to hope Charming would be on board, since they were the last cog in the machine to get running smoothly once more.  

EZ revealed it all again to a second and third set of ears, in an arranged sit down between himself, his VP, Chibs Telford and Tig Trager four days later, just them present to hash out the initial details they would then take to a vote at their respective tables. The Sons had returned to Teller-Morrow, the clubhouse rebuilt, Wendy selling the garage to the Telford family prior to her departure from Charming, Abigail overseeing the running of it around her other, less legal career.  

It was with a lot of hope for co-operation in mind that EZ and Bishop entered that very clubhouse, getting down to business immediately with a detailed explanation on a way forward.  

“Ultimately, Chibs, it would mean that we of course stop pushing heroin through your turf, which is what you’ve been pushing back against us over, the route of our war. I just need a way to cut the cartel down. What my VP and I are thinking, is that you’re married to that way.”

Chibs leaned back in his chair, his thumb and forefinger slowly stroking his beard. “Aye, lads. If you want decimation, you’ve come to the right place.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled his cell out, tapping around before holding it to his ear. “Darlin’, I need you in church, if you can come up? Got a wee bit of an explosive proposition for ye.”

A few minutes later, and the iron lady of Charming walked through the doors, eyeing EZ and Bishop suspiciously. Looking to her husband, he glanced at the empty chair to Tig’s right, nodding with a smile. Whereas former presidents of the MC would never even entertain the idea of an old lady having a say in the actions of the club, Chibs Telford was different. He realised what a powerful asset his wife was.  

“So, gentleman,” she began, lifting her chin as she eyed them. “I take it my services in eradication are required?”  

EZ nodded, looking to Bishop, who extended the same. If there was one woman within their world, even one slightly on the fringes of such, who they respected without question, it was Abigail Telford. She made Gemma Teller look like a Care Bear.  

“I do, Abi. What I need is for a cartel to disappear, if you can make that happen for us?” EZ put to her, watching the corners of her mouth upturn. Blowing things up was, after all, notoriously her turn on.  

She reached for the pack of cigarettes in front of her husband, taking one out and lighting up. “Aye, lads. It’ll cost you, but I can most certainly make that happen for you. I’ll need a couple of weeks to pull in a few fellas from across the pond to assist me, but just give me addresses and times, and believe me, your little problem south of the border will be eliminated within a blink.”

“Thank you,” EZ began, grateful to her.

Bishop sank his drink, nodding in her direction. “Never has the saying chip off the old block been more appropriate. I met your dad once. I’ve never been so fucking scared of anyone as I was of Michael. Back when my club were importing cocaine through the same port your weapons were arriving in, he met with us to discuss the heat of such, bartering for the Mayans to move our shipments away from the gun porting. Lady, and I mean with the utmost respect, you are all your father,” he spoke, honestly humbled that such a figurehead was willing to help them extract the club from the cancer that had cut into the heart of them.  

Abi smiled, reaching for the bottle on the table, taking a few glugs. “I appreciate your compliments, but truly, I am not my father. Because if I were my da, I wouldn’t be so magnanimous in what I can offer you in return, to boost my business, keep your club in profit, and the Sons clear of the heroin trade flowing through their areas. As you know, the IRA doesn’t involve itself in drugs, it goes against our code, but we can always be open to furthering our weapon trade.  

“Of course, my husband’s club doesn’t have the reach over the border, but you guys do. Take it to the other cartels, reach out and let them know that the Mayans now primarily are movers of arms for our cause, and I assure you, you’ll receive one hell of a discount, and only deal with me directly.”  

EZ leaned back in his chair, side eyeing his VP with a grin. Abi’s thoughts exactly matched his own. He always enjoyed when a plan came together seamlessly, two sides realising how they could join forces to net a substantial profit. Hell, when he thought about it, he could likely move arms for more of a fair cut than pushing the tainted heroin that was causing way too many news headlines for his comfort.  

Life? It was pretty good for EZ as he continued to discuss the finer details, standing to shake hands with Chibs, Tig and Abi before leaving. All he had to do now was survive surgery. Arriving back in Santo Padre hours later, the first place he called in at was the Luna Lounge, giving his girlfriend a very approving whistle as she hung upside down on the pole, just one leg keeping her on, the other extended back, her hand reached to grab it. Sure, she was in hot pink lace that definitely was not the kind of underwear she preferred, or which he liked to see her in, but she looked so elegant to him up there, with a group of rowdy women throwing a paper storm in her direction.  

“God, what I wouldn’t give to offer her a seat right on my face,” one of the women announced as EZ stood next to her. He looked down at her with a soft chuckle, shaking his head.  

“Take it from me, you’d never be happier.”

Her eyes immediately widened as she swigged back her beer. “Jesus! Sorry, man! I didn’t realise she was your girl!”

“S’okay,” he reassured her with, reaching to pat her shoulder. “She’s a cutie, I get it. Believe me, I know how lucky I am.”

“Hell yeah, you are! I mean, I ain’t into dudes, but I can see from her point of view that she’s the same, lucky with you on your arm. Y’all got any kids? I bet they’re beautiful little things if you have.”

Her friendlily delivered words suddenly made something in his chest pull tight. Kids with Camille; it was the future he dreamed of, one day, but would he survive his impending operation in order to actually see it? No matter how confident Doctor Shepherd was, it of course still played on his mind with such risky surgery, being under anaesthetic with his skull partially opened up for a procedure she anticipated lasting for twelve hours at the very minimum.  

“Nah, no little ones just yet. I think I wanna enjoy it being just me and her for a while longer,” he revealed, the woman nodding knowingly.

“Oh yeah, give yourselves time. My wife and I had been together for ten years before we decided to bring kids into the mix. I carried the first, she the second, and they were twins, so we got our hands full!” she chuckled. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go put a nice little wedge in your girlfriend’s bra.”  

She patted his back, grinning before taking a fifty from her wallet and scurrying over to Camille, pushing the money in and receiving a kiss on the cheek, beaming while she was danced for. He hung back until she exited the stage, passing her a large diet Coke and kissing her forehead. “Just thought I’d call in and say hey on my way home. Charming went well.”

EZ had decided to do as his brother had and let the girl he was with know everything. It was easier that way, and Camille appreciated him for it.  

“Oh, that’s a relief!” she began as they moved to a free table and sat down, Camille taking her wedge out from her thong and bra, stacking the bills neatly. “So, I get to finish earlier tonight since I worked the afternoon shift, meaning I’ll be at your place for about ten thirty. Want me to bring Chinese food with me?”  

His stomach rumbled at the thought of chicken noodles. “Please. Can I have my usual and a Szechuan pork? I’m fucking starving!”

“And some plain beef strips for little one?” Oh, how Sally would be excited to be given that particular treat.  

“I dunno who loves you more, me or the dog.” He headed off soon after, kissing her fleetingly, promising her many more as soon as she arrived. Once she’d finished, Camille was glad she checked her phone, EZ messaging to increase the other by quite a lot, telling her the guys had decided to stay and hang out, and that beer munchies were required, an extra one hundred dollars transferred to her account to cover the expense.  

“Get it while it’s hot!” she announced after kicking the clubhouse door open, her arms full with the large box of takeout containers, being ran at by several very hungry men.

“Oh, I will!” Bella purred, wrapping her arms around her waist and kissing her cheek with a giggle. “How was work, peachy?”

“Tiring! I made a nice little wedge though, so I’ll be well stocked up to spend some serious cash come out little shopping excursion.” In fairness, it was more of a girl’s weekend than anything, her, Amelia, Nala and Tallulah (unfortunately Mai couldn’t swing it) all going up to LA to stay overnight and get some serious shopping done, Bella needing new clothes for her long-overdue honeymoon. Being signed with a record label just three months after she and Angel had eloped, and then so busy for the following two years, they’d put it on the back burner until then, heading off to Brazil for two weeks.

Their honeymoon clashed with the time EZ was set to head to Seattle for his operation, both of them wanting to push it back in light of such, with the former telling them in no uncertain terms that he didn’t want them to cancel. The three weeks between that night and the moment EZ sat down aboard a plane two days before his operation passed by in a blur, reaching for Camille’s hand as they took off. He was a nervous flyer, and she knew too, how much that was impacting him with his nerves over the surgery, gripping his hand as she leaned against his shoulder.  

“I couldn’t do this without you,” he told her once they were in the air and clear of the nerve-jangling turbulence.

“True, since nobody else would allow you to cut off the circulation between their hand and fingers.”

“Shit.” He loosened his grip, Camille flexing her hand a couple of times. “Sorry, baby.”

“You will be,” she winked. “That’s my hand job hand.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, releasing her hand and resting it to her thigh instead. Throughout their flight, they separately read, listened to music, chatted, and quietly laughed at Bella’s Instagram stories, she and Angel visiting Christ the Redeemer (‘We’re going to see big Jesus!’ as Bella had comically put it) and Angel’s utter ire in the wake of someone thinking that Bella was his daughter (‘Yo, that’s my WIFE, dude!’) the many stories giving them a lot of much needed comic relief.  

“Fucking hell,” EZ exclaimed quietly as they entered their hotel room not long after landing. “You didn’t tell me you were choosing something this nice.” Camille had put everything in order, telling him to leave all the travel and hotel arrangements to her, since he had enough to deal with, being silenced when he’d attempted to object.  

“Well, I figured since we’re going to be up here for two weeks, then we might as well be comfortable, if not a little luxurious.” If the surgery went well, then Doctor Shepherd anticipated that he’d be all set for discharge around five days post-surgery, but wanted him to remain close by for check-ups for a few weeks before she gave him the all clear to fly home. “So, what do you want to do? Just relax, or head out?”

EZ had said he wanted to see a few of the local Seattle landmarks while visiting, the obvious of the Space Needle as well as a visit to the beautiful natural beauty site of Snoqualmie Falls, but with two days until he was due to arrive at Grey-Sloan, they had plenty of time. EZ wasn’t keen to waste any of it, though, it would seem.

“Let’s head out now, shall we?” Camille changed out of her comfy sweats into a pair of jeans and Timberland boots, figuring sensible footwear would be the best choice, grabbing her jacket before they left the room.  

“Oh god, oh my...” The little squeak that preceded Camille’s turning to bury her face into EZ’s shoulder had him laughing, wrapping his arms around her. “It’s so high! I knew it would be, but...” She gasped a little, looking back out over Seattle, her little hands grasped onto his hoodie before she turned back to hide her face once more.  

“Look out over the bay, though, baby. It looks incredible,” he suggested, pointing towards the water.

She emerged for all of five seconds. “Oh yeah, beautiful. And return to hibernation.”  

He laughed hard, hugging her, taking pictures with his free hand. “You’re so fucking silly. You made no mention of being afraid of heights before now!”

“I didn’t think I was, but I’ve never been up a tall building. Well, actually that’s untrue. I went to the top of the Empire State Building when I was two, but I don’t remember it. Apparently, I hid in dad’s hair the entire time, so perhaps I should have seen this coming!”  

For her sake, he kept the visit short after snapping a couple more pictures, taking a few cute ones of them up there too before they headed to their next attraction, taking a boat tour across the harbour. Camille was much better on water than she was a few hundred feet off the ground. Keeping with the aquatic theme, they moved onto Seattle aquarium afterwards, EZ warmed by the sight of Camille watching her favourite fish, the puffers, her face alight with delight.  

She couldn’t help but notice, though, the fact that he seemed to be in a hurry to fit in as much as possible into their afternoon, only slowing in pace once they reached the restaurant that had been recommended highly to them by the friendly hotel staff, taking a seat outside in the beautiful, casual surroundings of Un Bein, waiting on their order.  

“Baby, are you alright?” She noticed thar he wasn’t still, his leg bouncing, his hand twitching, motion still running through him even though sat in place.  

“Yeah, yeah I’m good.”  

She knew by that point in their relationship when he was lying. She’d noticed all the little tells that would have given him away back when he was under the duress of his tumour now that he wasn’t, the way his eyes darted around for just a fraction of a moment before he concentrated on her. “EZ, that isn’t true. Come on, tell me the truth. I can’t understand the kind of nerves you must be going through with what you have looming, but I’ve noticed how you’ve been rushing through today, so you need to share that with me.”

He inhaled deeply through his nose, letting the breath out slowly, reaching for her hands. “I’m trying to fit in as many memories as I can for you, just in case the unthinkable happens. In case I go into that OR and die on the table. I didn’t want to say it in as many words, I know you’ve likely considered it a possibility too, should a complication arise. All I want is to fill these two days full of things you can cherish, just in case.”  

Her eyes become glassy in a second, her emotions rocked by his revelation. “Oh my god.”

“And now I’ve got you all upset, and I didn’t want that.” Getting up, he moved around to the empty chair beside her, pulling her into the comfort of his arms as soon as he was seated. “Come on, beautiful. It’s okay.”  

She cried softly against him, her hand curling around his neck, stroking, emerging from his embrace to kiss him. “It is, and it will be okay, but hearing that you’re doing this for me is more touching than I can even begin to explain. I love you so much.”

She didn’t need to explain either. EZ felt it strongly in every single moment that passed with her. He just hoped he would have years ahead of him to experience many, many more.  

[fisherrprince]

Kip the desert god KHUX art is literally the coolest thing!! Is it okay if like...I poke you for more info about it? Like--they're all supposed to have good and bad traits, so what good ones correlate to which character? Are there any stories about how they came to be? What kind of superstitions are there surrounding them? UH, I'm trying to think of actual questions, but mostly I'm just flailing excitedly. (I also don't know if you have answers, so uh...feel free to ignore if you don't.)

YOU TWO....... COME CLOSER, COME PLAY IN THE SPACE COME INTO MY HOUSE

i am mostly infodumping here as a proposition, and kind of just for fun, soooo!! feel free to counter or disagree but this is what my brain has been turning for a few hours now. YES to All

i think they each are legends in their own right but really. them together. they're like a known phenomenon that talk to each other, occasionally spotted on a cliff chatting. but they also really specifically are over things, in a less greek god way and more of a. demigod put in charge way...???

v

Skuld — vengeance, justice, coyotes, horses, debt, freedom, breath

- There are unkind things said about those which must have made Her like this. No one’s quite sure about the process of making a godling, or turning someone into one, but she definitely seems to have a grudge. Some say the chains she wields are old rusted things from the day she turned. Some say that she made em from the iron in her assailers’ pistols, forged clean with their blood. An iffy rumor states that she was in debt, and her collectors refused to give her an extra week and threw her to the dogs, though that one gets confused with one about her freeing a bunch of wild dogs? Horses in some versions. And there’s another one asserting she was wrongly imprisoned and then forgotten, and after she clawed her way out she hunted the jailer down for months, never sleeping. Accounts tend to get exaggerated out of fear, but to be honest, she only gets really pissed at the target of some good old fashioned righteous violence, so it’s not surprising some people remember the dirty, scratched and clawed hands before they remember her voice. She’ll sing, sometimes, out in the open desert, mostly gentle things about endless possibilities. She’s known more for her good in desolate spheres, and more for her anger in prosperous ones. She’s the reason there ain’t a jailhouse in Daybreak Town. She’s the reason you can’t catch a coyote in a bear trap. She’s the reason running through an empty field as far and fast as you can feels so good. She’s the reason at night when you’re thinking dark thoughts to yourself there’s an extra voice that whispers let the hunt begin.

- She has a “horse”. She also wears a blindfold! For the aesthetic and for the justice is blind pun. I think there would be some superstition surrounding her… but I’m not sure what! I think hearing a big BOONNGGG bell when there’s No Bells is very uh oh

- She Lauriam and Ven make up the trio that were ascended After brain and ephemer. All three of them are a little less wistful ghosty mysterious and a little more scary, they all tend to work together bc of how they… work. So like, it wouldn’t be strange to see a hawk and a coyote in the background when talking to Death. Or a vulture and a lizard staring at you for way too long. She is good friends with ephy and their domains overlap a little :] everyone’s domains overlap just a bit.

- Cute note: she’s also very attached to the herd/pack mentality, and is usually the one keeping tabs on everyone else.

Lauriam — death, rot, love, grief, bones, lizards/dragons, coins, heat

- DO NOT go into the desert at night. You might find him. Or more accurately, he’ll find you. I think the concept that during the day he’s a lot more somber and gentle, while during the night he is a little terrifying is good bc things like death get scarier and more intense at night. It’s the lack of light that kinda drives him to be ruthless, and the cold, and the reminder of what he lost. Also his scythe is a guaranteed one hit kill pop your soul out, so they say... I don’t know if there are many debated stories about his origin. There might be some debate as to if he was always over death or if he just became like this because of his sister, but… there sure is a bit of a superstition about those who choose to live in a desert that killed the one in charge of harvest and prosperity and such. Points at rosie-kairi points at lauriam’s grief motif points at

- He tends to do the mononoke forest spirit thing. Sprouts flowers where he walks, immediately they wither and die. Since the desert is so hot (and, so it’s said, the insect/soil godling isn’t here) dead things tend to wither and get eaten and such rather than like, sink into the dirt. Things that are actually rotting are a bit cursed. He carries carved bones.

- There PROBABLY aren’t any actual dragons in the desert. Probably. There are lizards (did you know they’re scavengers sometimes?). If there WERE though or if one was sleeping underneath the ground or in that giant bare canyon and that’s why hardly anything grows down there? That would be his dragon.

- Most people respect him. It’s death. You can’t uh— you can’t just be mean to death you’ll die. It’s the natural end of everything. I think the proper thing to do is leave a few good coins behind if you kill someone. It represents the cost and shows that you understand what you’re doing so death doesn’t send anyone after you.

- Sweet note: I wonder if he’ll sometimes appear in graveyards to give the unmourned flowers….

(Strelitzia (gone)? — war, cycles, courage, life, insects, flowers, harvest)

- not much known I bet! Anything growing in the desert is a good sign, and a sign of healing. Not much grows.

Ventus — destruction, disaster, birth, vultures, hawks, self-identity, storms

- That one… no matter how much he wears to cover it, those claws click and drag on wood like iron boots. encountering that one ain’t so much a problem. It’s when he encounters you that there’s trouble. Mostly because half the time if he ever talks to you, you’re in the middle of a storm and he’s wondering why you’re still here. Lightning tends to hit things close to him. Bit of bad luck to be too close.

- Also terrible omen to see a hawk flying in a storm, especially a tornado. That’s probably him and it’s PROBABLY angry

- Rumors about how he came about ain’t ...that bad. There’s a rumor he survived a hurricane that ripped everything from the ground, and earned the right to be reborn as a demigod just by refusing to die. There’s a different rumor about an old burned down barn wwwwaaay out in the nothingness. it used to be something awful, unsaveable, screams would echo at night, and one day he just snapped and the earth did with him, so thoroughly is it ground into charcoal now that no one knows what it used to be — just that it’s now barren, and some seeds are sprouting there since the fire. There’s one that kind of explains the bird feet, where lightning struck a house through a vulture and he was just born with them, but that does absolutely zero explaining.

- It’s a bit weird to have a deity of destruction also be your deity of like, healthy baby sheep, but if you think about it, there’s a calm before and after a storm. He can be very sweet, especially with kids, but he isn’t social. Most of the time, people see him like an absol, a figure in the distance standing in the middle of chaos that’s ripping fences out of the ground. That cloak can turn into wings and launch him into the wind. Probably. So goes the rumor.

- He’s not as respected as death is. Mostly because destruction is kind of wanton and “unnecessary” — except for the fact that sometimes it is. So the image here is Lauriam and Skuld standing in front of him and going EXCUSE ME!!!!! he ask for NO pickles

- Silly note: he makes chirps and squawks when he’s startled I think. Hehehe. but also on that note. starlings and ravens and crows. they talk. Hooooooo nonononono. “danger! danger! dear, see what that noiseisss. dearsee. danger! caw!” NooooNONOhoho. sometimes he talks like that nononono

Ephemer — absence, wandering, protection, vastness, sleep, water, ghosts

- he was the first, so I think the most accepted versions of the story are either he was lost and the desert wanted a friend forever, or the desert MADE a friend. He’s practically a ghost, so not physical at all — which is honestly what helped him befriend the others… not responding to being attacked is useful in his case. He mostly resides in the giant canyon you DO NOT GO INTO, because you’ll get trapped and lost and wander forever and die. There’s dangerous things down there. His domain is all very ethereal, very let-your-mind-wander… a lot of weird dreams and feeling strangely lonely at 3 am and sitting down to look at the stars and getting struck by the fact that you are a person, on earth, one of so so many, you are touching dirt, you are breathing, you are thinking, the world is so big, oh no—

- With that comes protection. If you’re running, the vastness of the desert confuses and deters your pursuers. The sky is like a huge blanket. A fog will come over your mind if your decision is a particularly stupid one. You will always find something in the huge nothingness.

- Water is a weird one to be over because it means like, OCEAN. His domain is an ocean, not a puddle or rain. But there’s rumors the canyon used to be an ocean. Not sure if they’re to be believed.

- He wears a very large scarf decorated in tiny bells. Big bell is scary vengeance, tinkling bells is just this guy. He’s also much more benevolent to encounter! Like, usually he’s giving advice and warnings, and not following them is what gets you in big trouble. You’re always supposed to be very polite to him (all of them sorta) because it’s like. fae rules a little. Disrespect can get you on their bad side. Is that true? Aye….. who knows. It’s not worth it to be on the receiving end of his anger, even if it’s rare. The world expanding, your mind drifting into quiet, you slowly forget to move…

- Note: he likes to talk to people if you do it right. He seems very lonely. It is very, very difficult to encounter him, ever -- one wonders if its his domains, or the desert keeping him.

Blaine — knowledge, luck, snakes, hares, mirage

- Not predictable, not seen very often, and therefore probably the scariest to encounter, but most of the time what ends up happening is he tells you something freaky and lets you leave. Like………. if Bruno madrigal didn’t have anxiety and sat at the only campsite in 50 miles (abandoned except this guy by the way) and made conversation about your life even though you have Never met him. You don’t see his eyes. Probably because they claim he has a lot of them. Never has quite the same fingernails, skin color, smile, hair… twice.

- LOVES games. Not gambles, necessarily, but the guy cannot resist a chance to play cards against you. Even casually. You can probably leverage this somehow. He actually doesn’t cheat — but he sure knows if you do.

- Not sure about his origin… all of this lore stuff can be crowdsourced, I like to work together on things if you have ideas that are cool :D

- He wears a ton of layers. What’s under there? Uhhhhhhhhhhh probably nothing you want to know about!

- Going SEARCHING for him is hard. You can do it, though — just be prepared to come back with an answer you may not like, or an answer and something that’ll haunt you forever.

- HARES. that’s how he knows everything, so says a handful of people. The hares. They watch.

hhhhghh.... the aesthetic. is very impo- the Aesthetic is good. so long as they're mysterious and haunting the world... yeah thats theg ood stuff ok THANKS FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK

[bestiarium]

Kludde [Flemish folklore]

While bridges aren’t particularly scary of themselves, you might be surprised by how many evil bridge spirits there are in world mythology. Kludde, for example, is an evil spirit from Flemish folklore. He spent his time underneath bridges and could be recognized by the sound of the heavy iron chain that he has to wear on his ankle (in some versions, he has iron chains all over his body). When travelers are walking on the country roads at night, Kludde would suddenly jump on their neck, after which the innocent traveler has no choice but to give the creature a ride for the duration of the night. Depending on the story, he can also shapeshift into a giant black bird, a cat or a giant dog. How dangerous he is varies between different versions of the folklore, but his appearance as a giant dog is his most common depiction.

According to the story, the creature attacked a poor woman at night. Desperate to escape, she threw the things she was carrying at her assailant. A piece of cloth ended up in the mouth of the creature, getting stuck between its fangs and confusing it for long enough to give the woman an opportunity to run away. The next morning, she talked to all the men in the village. One young man, an unassuming servant, had fibers stuck between his teeth that matched the piece of cloth the woman had been carrying that night. The villagers banded together and formed an angry mob to chase the servant away. And the village never heard from Kludde again.

The second image shows Kludde (on the left) how he is depicted in the Suske & Wiske comics, which every Belgian kid is familiar with. This image is from the comic “De Zwarte Madam” from 1949. In this series, Kludde is usually depicted as a short dwarfish man with a fish tail, emphasizing his role as a bridge spirit.

Schelle – in Antwerpen – has a regional tale about Kludde: the people of a common household were talking at the dinner table one day, as usual, until someone brought up Kludde. Immediately, the sound of heavy iron chains was heard coming from the hallway, and everyone kept silent because they feared they accidentally summoned Kludde. The family started praying and the sound eventually stopped, but none of them managed to get some sleep at night. The family learned their lesson and didn’t carelessly talk about evil spirits again (come to think of it, I suppose you shouldn’t read this post out loud) but the next morning, they heard the sound again. This couldn’t continue, so the family went to the town butcher: a strong and kindhearted man who lived right across the street. The butcher, brave as always, said: “if this ever happens again, just slip out through the back door and come get me.”

As was expected, the spirit was heard again the next night. The father of the family went to fetch the butcher and true to his word, the butcher came along and took his giant cleaver with him. Fearlessly he opened the front door, and a giant dog with flaming eyes was sitting in the hallway. But the brave butcher was having none of his bullshit and slashed away without warning. Not expecting resistance, Kludde was heavily wounded and fled, never to return again.

Another story, coming from Moorsel, tells of a young boy named Benoit Wouters, a servant and no older than 14. He worked and lived at a farm, only coming home to his mother on Sundays to bring the money he earned and his dirty clothes. One night, when he left home to return to the farm, a large dog jumped on his back. The boy couldn’t shake it off and had to carry Kludde all the way to the farm, where the dog – apparently capable of speech – said “nu heb ik u vastgehad, hé!” which literally translates to “now I got you!” but a better translation would be something like “surprise, it’s a prank!”. The dog jumped off his back and disappeared into the night, but a tuft of Benoits hair turned grey, and it always remained that way.

Sources: Vlaams Sagenboek, by K. C. Peeters, Davidsfonds, Leuven https://volksverhalen.be/kludde (image 1 from volksverhalen.be) (image 2: “Suske & Wiske: De Zwarte Madam” by Willy Vandersteen)

[dracosathenaeum]

Something Precious

Summary: You and Draco realise your feelings for each other when he ends up at the bottom of the Black Lake during the Triwizard tournament that you are a champion for.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!reader

Warnings: Some swear words

Word Count: 2,321

Requested by anon! I hope this meets your expectations 🥺 (I changed the wording slightly, so instead of Treasure, I used precious as it just fitted slightly better here, sorry if it bugs you :3)

“Don’t touch me you filthy little mudblood.” You sighed, why was it always you that had to stand up for the first years. You’d think that by now Draco would’ve gotten used to your scolding and would get bored of picking on the helpless first years.

“Draco! I told you to stop calling the muggle-borns that, lay off the derogatory terms you shit.” You were pretty much the only person (other than the golden trio) that would stand up to Malfoy. But you were however the only one in the school who he would actually listen to. The two of you basically grew up together so you were used to putting up with each other. By now you wondered if Draco only kept picking on the younger years to wind you up.

“I’m just calling them what they are, don’t be upset love.” He said with a wink and his signature smirk. You don’t know when it had started but somewhere along the line, ironic flirting had started between the two of you. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it though.

“I’m not upset Draco darling; I simply want you to take that stick on the floor and stick it up your arse.” Draco flushing a deep pink was worth having to call him these ridiculous pet names.

“Thank you, Y/N!” the little Gryffindor squeaked.

“You’re supposed to be courageous right? Malfoy isn’t even scary, he’s very… ferret like.” And with a wink thrown over your shoulder to Draco, you were on your way. You weren’t by any means popular or well-loved by the school, it was more like you had their respect. You were still a Slytherin after all, you just stood up for the ones Draco and other Slytherins were especially cruel to. Simple name calling you could turn a blind eye to but the hexes and use of “mudblood” was just unnecessary.

That was probably why instead of boos, you simply got applauded when your name was pulled from the goblet. You weren’t in it for the ‘eternal glory’ you were just bored at Hogwarts. These deadly tasks sounded like something to get your mind off of everything, besides now that ‘The Chosen One’ was also competing, you had extra motivation to win the whole thing.

That being said… Potter tipping you off about the first task was probably the single worst feeling you’ve ever had in your life. The feeling of owing someone, let alone Potter, a favour. But he had saved your life, without his tip off you don’t know if you could’ve won that task. I mean it was dragons, DRAGONS. But your victory meant firewhiskey parties in the Slytherin common room for a week straight so you wouldn’t complain too much. You definitely kept it to yourself though, the thought of the rest of your house finding out you were saved by Potter made you shudder.

“Surprised you’re still alive Y/L/N, though I suppose someone has to beat Potter. His head is big enough.”

“Don’t look so happy to see me Malfoy.” Sarcasm dripping from you voice.

5 seconds of eye contact was all it took for you to be pulled into his arms, a breathe you didn’t know you were holding finally being released. You allowed yourself a couple seconds to enjoy to be held, it wasn’t often that you and Draco hugged despite having grown up together.

“I’m glad you’re alive Y/N/N, I need someone other than mudbloods to make fun of.”

“Shut up Malfoy, don’t ruin this.”

“Don’t fall in love with me yeah? I know I’m hot but you’re not really my type, though being a pure blood does help.” Smacking his chest, you pulled away from his hold. “God you are insufferable, now help me figure out how to work this stupid egg so I can tell Potter and not have to owe him anymore.” Draco was your one exception to the ‘tell no one that you owe Potter rule’ you set yourself, besides, you couldn’t hide anything from him. He’d find out sooner or later.

You had spent weeks with that egg, trying to figure out how to open it without the deaf-curdling screams. It was only when you convinced Draco to sneak you into the prefect’s bath (nothing in that dingy castle could compare to the prefect’s bath), that you figured it out. Though it took an awful lot longer to decipher it but being even with Potter again made every blood-curdling screech worth it.

The yule ball was a whole other catastrophe. Watching couples slow dance for hours on end sounded like utter hell to you, which is why you practically threw a fit when you were told champions had to lead the first dance.

“Draco stop laughing at me, they want me to dance; they want me, me to hold some guy against me and dance in front of 3 schools. I was content to stand by the food and make fun of the Weasley’s tattered robes or Potter’s awkward dancing but now I actually have to join in? I should just quit now.”

“You fought dragons Y/N; a dance is nothing. Besides we’ve been going to  balls for years, you should be used to it by now.” He did have a point, maybe all those long boring parties your parents would throw would finally serve a purpose for you.

“Pansy’s been trying to corner me for weeks, honestly I’d rather slow dance with your flat arse than hers. Besides, then we could make fun of Weasley together.”

You thought it over but not for very long, you knew he’d be the only one you’d willingly go to the ball with, well the only one you could tolerate for so long that is. Besides, the two of you had made it through countless balls together, what’s one more.

“Fine, but you’re buying me a new dress.”

“What? That wasn’t an invitation? I was just joking. Hang on, you have just as much money as me! Pay for your own damn dress.” You turned and made your way to the girl’s dorms, blowing a kiss towards the flustered blonde on the sofa. “Make sure it’s velvet or silk, nothing cheap either, else I’m telling you mother.”

And that’s how the both of you went to the Yule Ball together. Waltzing like you had done for so many years in the Malfoy manor and stuffing your faces, as you made fun of Ron Weasley’s robes and Potter’s pathetically sad looking face. Though you had to admit, Hermione was the focus of the night, no matter how good you looked in the dress Draco got for you, there was no denying all eyes were on her and the Durmstrang champion. As you climbed into the bed that night, a soft smile stretched across your face, the Yule ball wasn’t so bad with Draco as company you supposed.

===========================================================================

Which brought you to where you are now; stood in the freezing cold ready to dive into the equally freezing water. Calming yourself, you ran through your plan again. Cast the bubble-head charm, collect whatever ‘precious item’ Dumbledore was talking about and once you were out you would find Draco Malfoy and kill him. He had promised he would be there to help you prepare the night before; yet you spent the entire evening alone in the Slytherin common room waiting like some bloody girl being stood up.

You knew you weren’t traditional friends (if you could even call yourselves that) but you thought at the very least he’d be there for you when you really needed him. Swimming had never really been your strong point after watching your cousin drown during your childhood, but that was a story for another day. After all these years, you really thought despite everything he’d be with you when you needed him most.

The canon went off, startling you from your thoughts as you quickly cast you charm and dove into the water, taking a second to adjust to the freezing water and calm your nerves. You really should have learnt a body warming spell. You watched as the other 3 swam straight through the village and watched as Fleur was attacked by Grindylows. “Better her than me.” You thought.

You swam through the murky water and eerie village until you reached four figures afloat in the water. You swam toward them and recognised Weasley and Granger straight away, of course the golden trio would be making an appearance even here. Yet it was the mop of blonde hair that made your heart skip. ‘Something precious has been taken from you.’ Draco was your precious something!? You saw a young girl next to him, probably Fleur’s sister. Why was it Draco who was taken? Why wasn’t it your own sister who was just 3 years younger than you? God you were going to get an earful from the both of them after this.

Swimming closer you realised how gaunt he looked, you felt like you’d never truly looked at his face til this moment in time. Not even when slow dancing that night at the Yule Ball. He looked so different yet so similar to when you first met him at the age of 5. Both of your parents cooing as tubby little Malfoy held his tiny hand out to ask you for a dance.

For once he looked peaceful, rather than the sneer he always had at Hogwarts or his blank look at home around his parents and yours.

You slashed his bonds with a nearby rock, deciding to just get out of the water as soon as possible, you couldn’t bear to be in the water with your heart thumping this fast any longer. Turning to give one last look at Potter you could see the disgust on his face as he stared at the unconscious boy in your arms. You threw a glare and the rock at him before swimming away, feeling slightly sorry for the poor French girl left behind.

You were the first to break out of the water, Krum following shortly behind.

“What?? Where am I? Y/N?!” Draco spluttered, coughing the water from his lungs before wrapping an arm around you and keeping the both of you afloat.

“You can ask questions later, I’m exhausted, can you please just swim us back to the stands.” He didn’t need more instructions, knowing you hated the water, he pulled you against him as he swam straight for the closest stands.

Everyone cheered as the both of you were pulled from the water and wrapped in towels. You had won first place but that was the last thing you were thinking about.  

“Draco is your precious item? I always knew there was more going on between you two than you admitted!” You could kill Blaise then and there, you decided. Though you supposed the glare you received from Pansy was worth the humiliation, just a little.

“Y/N? What’s Blaise talking about? All I remember is Professor Snape asking to see me last night as I was walking to meet you in the common room and the next thing I know I’m freezing my ass off in the water with you. I mean is it even legal to do this to a student? My father will be hearing about this.” You could barely meet his eyes at this point, you were just as confused as he was, but you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his last comment.

Did you have feelings for Draco? Sure, you grew up together and had a love-hate relationship the whole time but that was the extent of it. You didn’t like Draco, surely, you’d know right?

“Something precious was taken from each of us, Krum got Granger; Potter, Weasley; and Fleur got her sister. I guess Dumbledore thought your sorry arse was precious to me or something.”

“Oooo does my darling Y/L/N have a crush on me? I thought you- and I quote- hated the sight of my stupid face?”

“In your dreams Malfoy, now shut up I want to hear them announce me as the winner.” In reality you could care less about the announcement, just wanting to change the subject as fast as possible. Your eyes went to Potter, along with everyone elses, as he shot out the water like a bloody dolphin. You would give him credit where credit was due though, saving just Draco was hard enough, Potter had saved both Weasley and the Delacour girl.

“You know, if you wanted me all you had to do was ask? Obviously, I’m very attractive and my father is very important but don’t be intimidated-”

“Shut up you git.” God if he wasn’t going to shut his stupid mouth, you’d make him, one way or another. The ‘other way’ as it happened was you grabbing his face between your palms and pressing your lips to his.

Draco wrapped his arms around you to pull you closer, deepening the kiss. You giggled into the kiss as everyone around you cheered; you didn’t think you were a fan of PDA but after kissing Malfoy, you couldn’t care less. You pulled away and nuzzled yourself into him, the both of you still ice cold from the swim but hearts beating fast.

You never thought you’d get a boyfriend from this tournament but being there in his arms, despite freezing your ass off, you were happier in that moment than you had been in a long time. There was nowhere you’d rather be.

“Be my girlfriend?”

“Shut up and kiss me Malfoy.” You both smiled into the kiss, loving how natural it felt to be with him like this. Completely ignoring the winner’s announcements and instead focusing on how happy you felt. 

Life was looking more bearable by the second.

Well until you got killed by Voldemort that is.

I See The Light can be read as a loose sequel describing this moment

#A/N: I literally had the HP wiki page open the entire time, it’s my first time writing a changed story line, something with a proper plot. I hope it was okay, please let me know if I got anything wrong or if something should be improved! Also sorry for the crappy ending :33

Thank you for reading!

Add yourself to my taglist!

[ilikemesometaetaes]

Set Me Free (M)

Min Yoongi Oneshot

•••> Author: @ilikemesometaetaes​

•••> Summary: You are just an ordinary woman with a strange aura about you that Yoongi can’t seem to resist- even past the compulsion of his mentor. The question is: why?

•••> Pairing(s): Yoongi/Reader

•••> Requested by @itsgottabeyoo-ngs​ : “Hi daddy, One shot request with vampire Yoongi x brat reader. Bonus points for adding in choking or spitting idk make it filthy k thanks love you byeeeee xoxoxoxox”

•••> Word Count: 10.95k

•••> Rating: 18+

•••> Tags: smut | vampire!au | Yoongi!AU | Vampire’s Mate | Vampire!Yoongi | Human!Reader | Gifted!Reader

•••> Warnings: smut, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, murder, attempted murder, slight choking/strangulation, dirty talk, biting, blood drinking, spitting, violence, horror, vampire/human relationship, cursing, mental attachment, thirsty Yoongi, Yoongi thinks he’s scary, but he’s totally not

Copyright © 2020 ilikemesometaetaes. All Rights Reserved.

Thank you for the request, babe! This one is a bit to unpack, as you can see. I hope you enjoy :)

~#~

Yoongi never claimed to have his thirst under complete control.

He stands before his brothers once every week for the feed, snarling as he consumes his share of blood, while the others bear witness so as to provide him ceremonial protection- a vampire is very vulnerable while he consumes blood. The polydipsia made one lose all form of reason and sense of mind, driven to the brink of animalistic insanity when it was in the process of mildly quenching the eternal hunger.

Polydipsia, used to describe his level of thirst, was the word made just for him in his own little world.

It wasn’t normal thirst, like a human, but the savage-like impulse to drink and drown until he could swim in a river of blood and take deep lungfuls of the crimson fluid. The impossible desire to consume and be completely consumed by blood until he became it himself always loomed over his mind in his early days as a Deadblood- a vampire youngling- causing him to search for a word that could completely describe his affliction.

Then the Greeks begun transforming their language, perfecting the word that he could use to chronicle his need. He had mulled over the thought throughout the few centuries that the word came into existence, truly connecting with it on a level that was deprived of him when his soul was taken from his body.

But the word was not only used to describe normal thirst; it described the abnormal desire to drink as a symptom of disease- and a disease is what Min Yoongi had.

From the days he explored the lands of Goryeo as a young teenage boy, he knew that disease racked every inch of the world. Street beggars, riddled with sicknesses and incurable illnesses, asked him for coin, food, clothing, and any necessities that could potentially carry them through the night into another sunrise. But the one thing that they begged for the most was water.

Liquid life. Yoongi thinks back on the ironic turn of events and how, even as a privileged boy of nobles, he understood just how desperate a person got when they were deprived of the one, singular fluid that supported life as he knew it.

As Yoongi approached adulthood, he was promoted and bestowed larger honors in the name of the Min clan, allowing him to provide more for the beggars and lower-class individuals that he came across on the streets every day- not that his father would find out.

Until he did.

Yoongi recalls the moment he knew that his father figured out that his son was spoiling the family riches on the lower class. They weren’t sitting down for dinner and having a conversation nor taking a stroll along the river like the two of them normally would- it was quite surprising, really. Yoongi had to applaud his father for the creativity of the circumstance.

He knew that his father figured out his whereabouts when he found himself bleeding out in the middle of the woods with three arrows, adorned with the Min clan crest carved into the wood, sticking out of his chest. He was sent to look for his supposedly lost little sister under the direction that she was probably at a watering hole- which Yoongi had never heard about- about forty-five minutes from the edge of Goryeo’s walls.

Many people ventured outside of the city to fend for food and necessities, or to find civilization elsewhere, so it wasn’t surprising to him that his curious baby sister wanted to see for herself what life was like outside of the city’s limits.

As Yoongi lay dying on the soil of the earth, staring up at the greenery of the trees above while they lightly swayed in the breeze, he realized that everyone, regardless of social-class or physical health, was fighting the same, universal disease: death. No one could escape it and no one was safe. At least, that’s the epiphany he had in an effort to comfort himself while he felt his heart painfully struggle to beat with an arrowhead lodged into it. Copious amounts of blood spurt out with each pulse of his damaged organ.

And then the universe decided to set him free from death with a cure worse than the disease itself.

Yoongi doesn’t remember who his creator was. He doesn’t remember how long he spent on the forest floor with the arrows still in his chest. He doesn’t remember waking up.

His memory of his new life started from the moment his consciousness returned, in the exact second that he found a set of vocal cords clutched in the palm of his hand, dripping with crimson, after apparently ripping them out of a young boy who was actively collapsing in front of him. The boy, who Yoongi immediately recognized from the streets of Goryeo, was choking on his own gore as he clutched at his now nonexistent throat, staring up at his killer with a jumbled expression that silently begged for help yet withdrew from terror.

It took Yoongi five years of trekking everywhere and no where while attempting to control his thirst before he found new meaning. He mostly had a hold on the scorch in his throat by staying away from the city and surrounding villages before he met another and figured out what he became.

The woman- no, girl?- appeared young yet spoke as if she had seen countless winters, the wisdom of a million middays glowing behind her carmine eyes. She was the first person he had met who did not end up dead within the first two minutes of scenting them on the wind.

“You are a vampire. You survive purely on the life essence of others. You are still a young Deadblood. Judging by your age, you should become a Redblood soon.” She sat with her back to him, overlooking the valley below the then-unnamed Odaesan mountain that they sat perched upon. “Do you know who created you?”

“Created me?” He asked. “What do you mean? My parents?”

She turned, her vibrant red eyes continuing to shock him. Did his own orbs look like this?

“I mean, who turned you?” She seemed to look at him incredulously, shocked by his lack of knowledge. “Who gave you their venom- their shi?”

“I…” Yoongi tried very hard to remember anything before the burning sensation that scraped like rocks against the insides of his bones and flesh, but all he could see and feel was fire and agony- and then blood. He couldn’t help but think with a grain of salt, disbelieving of the method in which he was born into his new life. “I don’t know. I just remember from my first kill.”

“Strange.” The other vampire muttered, returning her gaze to the valley. “Strange, indeed.”

Yoongi was always the silent type, only interacting when he needed to as a habit formed to avoid the questioning glare of his father when he returned home late on certain occasions.

But he couldn’t help the burning desire of curiosity within him, a welcome distraction from the need to feed within him. He had so many questions.

“You may ask your questions, Min Yoongi.” The woman sighed, not even bothering to spare him a glance whilst she spoke. The man was shocked to find that she knew his name without him telling her.

“How do you know my name?” The new revelation took precedent in his mind, hoping that she was not an enemy of his clan.

“A valid question.” She mused. “Anticipated, but valid. I suppose I’ll answer your question to the best of my ability.”

Yoongi shifted his position in preparation, a new habit that he formed in his new life. He learned from the first time he moved to stretch that his body did not need to be stretched as it usually did. He never ached, never cramped, never tired, and never lost energy. Despite the lack of his emotions in their usual form, he knew that it should have been unsettling to find such a new change within him, so he did the sensible thing of pretending that he needed to.

He pretended he needed to breathe- after two hours at the bottom of a lake he stumbled upon in his aimless journey, he was amazed to find that he required no oxygen to continue existing- and that he didn’t need to sleep nor use the bathroom. He would practice taking breaths, trying to inhale and exhale evenly without becoming allured to the pungent yet undeniably attractive scent of animal blood so that he could finally smell the forest again. He pretended to go to sleep and wake up with the urge to relieve himself of the noneixstent pressure in his bladder despite not having any of the instincts he once had.

The woman spoke, answering his first question.

“I can hear your thoughts. They’re not necessarily specific, but I can hear when you are wistful- like you are now- or when you are curious or sad or angry. I can hear the causes of these emotions.” She paused. “It comes with the gift of my second life. A form of protection, if you will.”

“Why would I need protection when I am invincible? I’ve seen the things I can do and what my body can endure.” He briefly recalled repeatedly jumping from a cliff, automatically landing on his feet no matter how hard he tried not to. Before, he had a will to survive with a choice of dying, but now? There was no comprehensible choice. “There is nothing that can hurt me.”

Yoongi couldn’t help cocking his head to the side like a confused dog when the woman let out a breathless laugh.

“Because, young one,” She looked at him with her eyes again, a look of mock endearment filling them. “You are not invincible.”

For a moment, Yoongi did not believe her. He believed that the liquid running through his veins was pure ichor, an essence of the gods, but when he returned her look of sincere truth, he understood that dying was still very much possible.

Thanking the gods, Yoongi looked to the ground and began toying with his fingers at his revelation. He could stop murdering people, willing to die in order to do so.

The woman shook her head. “No, Min Yoongi. You do not have to die to stop killing humans. In fact, it is the reason I have not killed you yet. You are unaware of the possibilities.”

His head perked up at the comment, suddenly eager to learn.

“How? How can I live without killing?” All he could see was the young boy that he had murdered in cold blood; the boy’s warm brown eyes staring up at him as he watched the life drain from them burned into his memory- he didn’t even know the boy’s name. The boy could not have been older than his own sister.

“I never told you that you could continue to live without killing. Of course, you have to kill. But you do not have to kill people.” The woman nodded her head down the mount. “Do you smell that? Do you smell the life that lives throughout this mountain?”

Yoongi attempted to focus on his senses but could only feel the thirst once again tormenting his throat. As soon as the woman shifted his attention back to the aroma of life, he salivated. Of course, he smelled the animal’s scents, but he could also detect traces of human life upwind that completely took away his desire for anything but humans.

“Push the thirst aside to open your senses. Embrace them. Embrace your power and your abilities. Focus on those.”

Again, he tried to push the scorch in his throat to the side, only to find that it was an impossible feat seeing as he had not fed in several months. He wanted human blood so badly.

“Poor child. I did not realize how weak you were.” She let a grimace morph her features, the first true expression of genuine emotion that Yoongi had seen on her. “Come sit in front of me. I will help you.”

For a moment, Yoongi hesitated. Was she going to kill him? He was not sure, but after a few more thoughts to himself, he realized that he had nothing to lose. Following her direction obediently, he moved to sit with his legs crossed in front of the woman.

“Now, close your eyes and listen to my voice.” She raised her hands to his head, placing her fingertips on his temples, and began whispering while he let his eyes flutter closed.

He felt as if he was mentally hit by a charging bear.

The woman’s words echoed in his mind, seating themselves amongst every corner and crevice that they could touch before Yoongi could understand what was happening. Shocked by the feeling of being intruded upon, he tried to push back against the mind-numbing force of her words, uncomfortable and feeling violated by the sensation. Instead of stopping them, her voice just broke down his amateur attempt at a mental barrier and pushed its way further into his brain. He was helpless to her superior mental awareness and gift.

“You will not focus on the thirst. You will focus on your abilities. Focus on the blood of animals and the blood of those already dead.”

And Min Yoongi had no option but to obey for he was forced into a dieted life.

But as he stands, thousands of years later, in the middle of your kitchen whilst watching you silently with the inferno of the blazing sun in his esophagus, he couldn’t help the need that overcame him. He could not obey his mentor; miraculously and horrifyingly, the gift of his mentor did not work with you.

He was impelled by his mentor’s gift, effectively removing most of the bloodlust he had for humans. In his lifetime, after the unavoidable command was bestowed upon him, he had only killed a handful of humans when he was consumed by the thirst after living in self-induced exile for so long. But standing before you, he may have needed to add a finger to that handful depending on what you did next.

Yoongi first clocked you on his radar the moment you walked into the small coffee shop he was occupying for the later part of the morning.

Building a friendship with you was quite easy.

You were bright and warm and everything wonderful upon meeting him. Your smile was just shy of naive, yet he couldn’t help the alien tugs on his heart when watching you giggle.

“How old are you, Yoongi?” You asked while circling the straw in your caramel macchiato.

“Old enough.” He chuckled, looking down with what you perceived as shyness.

“Oh?” You laughed with him. “And how old is enough for you?”

“I could ask you the same question. How old do you think I am?” He met your eyes, once again shocking you with their beautifully vibrant shade of brown.

“Well…” You trailed off, studying his facial features closely- the hint of a permanent smile line, fresh haircut, and no wrinkles alluded that he couldn’t be over thirty. “I’m gonna say… twenty-five?”

The man across from you smiled. “Very close. I’m twenty-seven.”

So he wasn’t that much older than you. You could totally do him.

Yoongi noticed the flash of lust that ghosted through your pupils for a split second, recognizing the dilation of them as you glanced at him. He watched you stick your chest out a bit more, begin fiddling with your hair more often, and part your lips while you let the thoughts of sexual satisfaction run across your mind.

“Twenty-seven, huh? That’s not bad at all.” You smiled, letting your tongue lightly swipe along your bottom lip unconsciously.

Yoongi zeroed in on the action with a piercing gaze, watching as the muscle seemed to move in slow motion tauntingly, daring him to dig his fangs into it savagely before tearing it from your mouth to feel the blood pouring from your lips onto his face. 

His body reacted sensibly, blood rushing like fake adrenaline to awaken his better instincts- rushing everywhere- and making his jeans become uncomfortably tight as they restrained his filling manhood. 

Blood drinking was as exciting as it was satisfying for a vampire. An extremely personal and holy moment, consuming lifeblood was the most raw and sexual moment to experience. A vampire could not experience real sexual desire without it.

He dug his fingers into the faux leather of his side of the booth until they broke through the material to restrain himself from attempting to attack you in the middle of the day.

Quickly, gaining his sense of mind once again, he tore more holes into the leather to round out the punctures so that it could appear as if the holes were from wear and tear.

The scent of your blood transpierced by the hormones and adrenaline beginning to flow through your veins made it just that much more implausibly alluring. Yoongi admitted that you were a beautiful and kind woman from the conversation throughout the morning. He also knew that you had a deviant side due to the surprisingly quick appearance of your lust-filled gaze.

Yet he couldn’t help the urge to murder you on the spot.

He knew that he couldn’t touch you. The supernatural safety of the sun that shone on your body prevented him from laying a finger on your skin without his own lighting aflame. He learned the protection of sun rays on humans the hard way.

His fifth human victim, a monk who travelled the heights of Mount Odaesan- Yoongi’s sanctuary and home- for a religious trial, travelled early in the morning as the sun was rising. Yoongi smelt the sweat dripping from the man’s skin instantly. In the small cove he called home, he tried to resist the urge to kill the man for he hadn’t smelt human blood in several years.

His mentor’s words were ever present. ‘Focus on the blood of animals and the blood of those already dead.’

Despite having those words affecting his instincts, Yoongi had managed to convince himself that the monk was a dead man standing once he smelled remnants of a virus tainting his scent, effectively bypassing the impulsion of the woman’s mind control.

Yoongi found himself rushing at the man without a second thought, fangs bared and fingers curled in preparation to tear the man’s limbs from his body. However, before he could get within two feet of the vulnerable monk, he was thrown back by an invisible and boiling hot force that left him screaming in agony and flying through the air.

The monk quickly ran back down the mountain in terror, yet Yoongi could pay no mind as he lay on the forest floor, ready to die once again as his skin singed and fell from his flesh like swamp sludge.

As his throat tore itself raw from his wails of misery, his body writhed in and out on itself in complete and utter anguish. The smell of burnt flesh overwhelmed his nostrils, pungent and nauseating in every possible way. How he was able to focus on something other than the pain was beyond him.

Despite the burning, Yoongi could feel his aflame skin beginning to heal itself. Clawing through the dirt, he felt the blood stored in his stomach rushing through his veins to the broken and severed ones, rebuilding them and recreating the network of arteries necessary to begin restoring his expanse of skin.

Before long, the pain subsided and Yoongi was no longer screaming. The entire ordeal lasted approximately twenty minutes- long enough that Yoongi no longer heard the footsteps of the monk and long enough for him to process the events that had just happened. 

He was thankful that he became a Redblood with the ability to use consumed blood throughout his body, unsure of what would have happened to him if he had been a Deadblood at the time. Deadbloods burned through consumed blood quicker than a spark from a flint could ignite kindling into a flame.

He definitely needed to ask the woman, Zizi, about it. And he definitely needed to track that monk until sundown so that he could get rid of any loose ends.

Yoongi grimaced slightly, remembering the occurrence like it was yesterday, as he sat across from you.

You were still looking down at your cup in blissful unawareness of his inner turmoil and life that he’s lived thus far. You definitely were not dense enough to not notice his gaze on your skin, but you were definitely ignorant of the fact that he was thinking about what would happen if he could just get you to move a few feet to the right to gain cover from the direct line of the sun. He just needed to get you into the shadows.

“Y/N,” He called your name. You instantly looked up in response. “How old are you?”

“Old enough.” You teased him back with his own words. He let a small smile thin his lips before he looked down to hide it. When you followed his gaze and noticed that he didn’t have a drink, you jumped to the opportunity.

“Can I buy you a drink, Min Yoongi?” You asked him.

“Oh, I’m not particularly craving coffee at the moment.” He paused and held his breath, as if trying to find the words to say. “I just like to sit here sometimes and enjoy watching the street.”

“Well,” Ask him! Ask him out! Yes! Do it! Your head screamed at you to be confident. You knew he was the shy type; you would be waiting all day for him to make a move and you just didn’t have the time nor patience for that. “Let me get you a drink at my bar?”

The man looked mildly impressed for a moment. “You own a bar?”

“A small one.” You swiftly added. “It’s not a big popular one or anything but I didn’t want a place too big. I like the smaller things.”

Yoongi couldn’t help but smile. You were a kind and beautiful woman living a simple life. He dreaded the moment that he was going to have to kill you.

“I take it you’re pretty well off then?” He asks. “And please don’t take this as me digging around. I’m just curious.”

“Don’t worry about it. Yeah, actually.” You laughed and sat back in your chair, looking out the window onto the street as people and cars passed by. “I’ve always been pretty lucky for some reason. The gods always seem to be in my favor and give me what I want.”

Yoongi smirked for a moment. If she wants me, she can have me. Then, I’ll have her.

When Yoongi found himself in the prime position to attack you in your kitchen, several weeks later, he knew. He finally had you where he wanted you.

A handful of dates that he found quite pleasant were all it took. 

You turned out to be just what he thought- a strangely attractive and alluring woman, the scent of your blood aside. You exhumed an odd magnetism about you that Yoongi had never felt from a human. He regretted the decision of waiting so long to kill you seeing as he was considering letting you live. But he knew that he couldn’t do that.

With your back turned to him, busying yourself with dinner, he could easily snap your neck so that you wouldn’t scream and struggle- and you would be dead almost instantly. A quick and nearly painless death was what you deserved. He didn’t want you to suffer at all.

However, just as he crouched in preparation to lunge at you, you spoke.

“Are you ready for dinner, babe?” You asked him.

He smiled devilishly, venom filling his mouth as he salivated. “Yes, I am. I’m starving.”

You chuckled. “Okay.”

“Go and sit down at the table.”

It was the most simple of commands. Telling Yoongi to sit down wasn’t an order. You weren’t demanding him to do it. You never demanded anything of him. It was a mere suggestion in your eyes.

Yet Yoongi felt his body moving to the dinner table without a second thought, unable to resist obeying your words.

What in the everliving fuck.

He sat quickly, impotent to move from his spot while he waited for you to bring the food from the counter. His thirst obliterated his throat, causing it to seize up and restrict any air that he could previously breathe, but he sat in wonder as you seemed to hold power over him that he had never felt before.

You turned with both of your dinner plates in hand and he quickly smothered the panic on his face, wondering what in the world had just happened.

“I’m not at all a chef, but you better eat everything.” Yoongi tested your words, seeing if the inclination to finish your food was present, only to find a slight mental nudge- as he expected. You didn’t tell him to do anything; you merely made an ‘or else’ statement.

No longer desperate to kill you for the time being, Yoongi sat still and waited for your next words. Once you sat the plate in front of him, you uttered a joke.

“Dig in.”

And dig in Yoongi did. He picked up his fork and scooped into the pasta you made without any willingness to deny you.

The pasta wasn’t fantastic in any sort of the word- It was plain, although it could be due to the fact that it wasn’t at all what he truly craved and needed. It was like eating a piece of stale bread while he was offered a perfectly cooked and outright juicy steak on a silver platter. The food that he ate wouldn’t be consumed by his body and used for nutrients; the shi in his stomach would burn it to nothingness within the next few hours.

Uncontrollably, Yoongi shoved mouthful after mouthful into his mouth- he couldn’t stop. Once he finished chewing one bite, his hand was immediately bringing him another, and then another. Despite lacking the need to breathe, Yoongi felt himself suffocating with each bite as the realization that he could do nothing except eat his food settled in his mind.

“I see you were hungry.” You laughed, unaware of his predicament. Yoongi’s eyes shot up to yours and silently hoped you would give him another command so that he could stop the foolishness.

You, however, just sat there feeling sort of proud of yourself- not only for making an edible meal, but for making one Yoongi seemed to enjoy. Even though it was slightly shocking to see him out of his usually cool character, acting like a man suffering from hunger, you couldn’t help but find it undeniably cute.

Eating slowly while watching him, you let your feelings for him come to the surface.

Yoongi was utterly beautiful. His black hair that fell over his face while he was cleaning up the last bits of his plate was just long enough to cover his eyes, yet as he looked at you without reservation, you felt he had a clear line of sight straight into your soul.

His skin was nearly flawless save for the light and narrow scar that cut into his right eye. Others found the scar intimidating and ugly, but you found it rather attractive. Yoongi, with his uncanny physical allure, was undeniably the most beautiful man you had ever seen.

Your body was alight with joy and content. In the few weeks that you got to know him, liking him was incredibly easy and having him in your home, in a domestic setting, lit your heart on fire with the possibility of falling in love with him.

He was incredibly easy to love, you discovered. Everything about him begged you to fall for him. As if the universe created him just for you, Min Yoongi was the epitome of perfection- in your eyes, anyway.

Briefly, you had shown a photo of him to your mother. She became unsettled instantly by his appearance.

“He’s so pale. And a little scary-looking.” She squinted at the photo you took of him when he wasn’t looking. You never brought him up again to your mother, disliking the fact that she didn’t like your potential boyfriend and found him scary.

The picture just happened to be your favorite- being because he didn’t like pictures and it was the only one you had of him.

He kindly asked you to not take photos of him. When you prompted him as to why during one of your more intimate moments at your bar, he only answered playfully as he held you close to him, lips begging for you to kiss them.

“Because I don’t want to leave evidence.” He whispered, breath tickling your nose. His body was warm and sturdy, muscles rippling under your touch as you clung to his shoulders.

“Evidence from what?” You asked breathily. The heat in your panties had increased tenfold over the last few minutes as his eyes grew hungrier with want. Yoongi’s fingers dug into your waist painfully, pulling you so close that you barely had room to expand your lungs to breathe, yet you couldn’t help the edgy feeling of how rough he could be with you.

“From when I eat you up.”

Thinking back on the memory, you shivered involuntarily, hoping that tonight might be the night you actually get to have him. He’d made you wait for a little over a month and you had no idea why. You definitely felt him straining through his pants a few times. But no kisses or anything further than the pressing of your bodies was accomplished.

Yoongi finished his plate and sat upright briskly, pulling you from your wishful thinking with a jump.

“Y/N,” He nearly growled, shocking you. “What else do you want me to do?”

The fork you were holding clattered to your plate instantly. Wow. He’s sizzling hot.

“I-“ You stuttered a bit. “I- uh.”

“Spit it out.” He hissed. You jumped again, trying to find the words to say with the heat growing in your panties.

Quickly, you answered him. “I want you to take me to my bedroom.”

“Thank god.” He groaned, getting up slowly with a smirk on his face. “Is that just a request? Because I can walk out now if you don’t actually want this.”

“Take me to my bedroom, Yoongi.” You stood slowly, carefully, as if you were afraid to trigger him.

Yoongi pushed in his chair and moved towards you at a speed that was almost inhuman. You yelped in astonishment as Yoongi attempted to control himself- he couldn’t bring you to your bedroom at his natural speed or else he would have a very motion-sick human to worry about. Instead, he trembled with the effort to resist your command at full force, knowing that the only way it was possible was due to the fact that he was still, in fact, taking you to your bedroom.

Picking you up was easier than breathing. You weighed absolutely nothing in his arms because of his advanced strength, so when he felt you trying to assist him in carrying you by holding your body stiffly, he huffed out a laugh whilst he walked.

“Relax, woman. You are as light as a feather.”

You blushed under his words, leaning into his chest to hide your cheeks.

“Stop that.” He growled, entering your bedroom. You looked up at him and he couldn’t tear his eyes from the blood that rushed to your cheeks. “I can’t resist if you do that.”

“Then don’t.” You whispered. Your heart pounded in your chest, begging him to hear it. “Don’t resist.”

His fangs came forth immediately, for he could not resist your command while he flew to your bed to throw you down. Despite your unknowing of what you were telling him to do, he fostered no opposition to what he was about to do.

The roughness of his throw startled you for a moment as you looked up at his vastly approaching figure, only to grow terrified when you caught sight of his face.

The veins protruding out of his temples and cheeks pumped blood straight into the whites of his eyes, turning them completely bloodshot, as they framed the now-crimson irises. Long incisors protruded from his mouth as he opened it with a hiss, revealing the way his human teeth shifted apart to allow his inhuman ones to break through the gums. Instantly, you parted your lips to scream.

Yoongi was upon you instantly, hand covering your mouth and silencing your cry while he snarled menacingly, yet he couldn’t help but feel remorse for killing you.

“I’m sorry.” He whimpered through his animalistic demeanor. “I can’t stop.”

You were screaming below his hand and, instantaneously, he had an idea.

He was leaning forward slowly, able to slow himself in the process of not resisting you. “Y/N,” He strained, changing the frequency of his talent, and waited for you to silence yourself in order to listen to him. He took his hand off of your mouth slowly after he heard your heart calm itself past your weeping. “Tell me to stop.”

“Stop!” You sobbed whilst clawing at his chest and kicking at his legs. “Don’t kill me!”

Not a second passed before Yoongi flew off of you, throwing his back to your wall with a loud thud while he cursed lowly.

You scrambled to the headboard of your bed, pressing your back against it in an attempt to gain some distance between the two of you. Your eyes were wide, chest heaving with your breath short, as you looked at the man in front of you.

“I-“ Yoongi stuttered for the first time in decades. “I’m sorry.”

“Your eyes!” Your burst out. You were unable to contain your fear and shock, so you displaced it into your curiosity. “Y-your- Your face! Your teeth!”

Yoongi stood against the wall, breathing just as hard as you, with his eyes cast to the floor in the process of trying to control his facial features. He could no longer kill you. The thought revolted him- every time he considered drinking your blood, the idea was banished from his mind with a sense of nausea following. Good god. She is unaware of her ability yet I am completely at her mercy.

“I apologize. I couldn’t help myself.” He breathed. What Yoongi forgot to take into account was the fact that he began implementing the gift of his second life on you the moment he stepped foot through your threshold, so your mind was completely scrambled by this point.

It was nighttime now; he could not leave your house no matter how hard he tried. He knew of the fallacy that vampires needed to be invited in and he found himself giggling from time to time at how close humans got to the actual lore of his kind.

He could enter your house, uninvited, during the day. He could lurk every corner of your abode without a bother, yet when night fell and the sun finally set, he would be stuck inside until morning. He knew he would be staying the night in your house the moment he agreed to have dinner with you. If he attempted to enter through your door during the night, however, he would have no luck- the night’s protection would convince his brain to walk away from your home without any further reconsideration until he was a good distance from it.

He was in the first position now.

He wished that he could leave you and disappear from your life without a trace so that you could live a peaceful and happy life without him, but he was afraid that it was impossible now with sundown a mere two hours prior. Your powers were no match for the natural protection of the earth. The both of you had a long night ahead of yourselves.

So he used his ability. Yoongi gave you control- rational thought, rather. His gift allowed him to grant organization of the mind and precise focus to others, but he could also take it away.

Upon entering your home, he began the process of slowly but surely ebbing away your barriers and logical thought- he couldn’t do it too fast or else you would panic like you were now. With a presently impossible-to-kill human whose heart was beating out of her chest and a command to not kill you forcing him into submission, he was obligated to prevent you from having a heart attack that was caused by him.

With laser-like focus, he channeled his gift straight into your open mind. Yoongi rebuilt the walls he had previously broken down over the past few hours, restocked your jumbled thoughts into their proper spaces, and flowed his energy through each corridor of judicious conception so that you could continue to develop your focus into that of supernatural proportion. He hoped that you, with a new mind, would tell him to get away from you and to kill himself. Dying by the hands of such a robust ability wouldn’t be too bad of a way to go.

You, however, never had such a decisive mind. Your mind was never clearer and you had never felt such clarity in your thoughts before. It allowed you to feel the magnetism that he radiated.

You knew he was a vampire. You don’t remember how you knew or how you recognized it, but you knew that he was not the first of his kind you had come across. Maybe it was the obvious fangs that gave it away.

“Yoongi,” You whispered. “You’re a vampire.”

His eyes, now back to their normal gorgeously coffee-bean shade, flicked up to yours in surprise.

“You know what I am?” He spluttered, flabbergasted. “You don’t think I’m a demon? Or the devil?”

“I’m not stupid. I know a vampire when I see one.” Your tone did not waver nor shake despite being a potential victim to a vampire. Was it the adrenaline?

“Then you know that I am a danger to you.” He said lowly, shock still evident on his face, while he began gravitating towards your bedroom door to leave.

“No. Stay.” You found yourself pining for his presence while he froze up in his spot. You eyed the action analytically. “If you were a danger to me, I wouldn’t be alive right now. You had plenty opportunity to kill me.”

“That’s the thing,” His hands pressed to the wall and scratched into it with the effort to move further from you. “I don’t have much of a choice anymore.”

“And why is that?” You relaxed your body and slowly slid your way across the bed towards him.

“Because I can’t.” Yoongi actually gasped for air as you stood from your bed to slowly approach him. “Y/N. Don’t come near me.”

“Why don’t you have a choice?” You ignored his warning, fully aware of the risk you were taking yet uncaring of the consequences. You were too focused on the fact that you actually wanted him.

Yoongi could not move from his spot, a side effect of your command to stay, but he refused to meet your eyes. The irresistible scent of your blood clashing with the order to not kill you fucked with his mind in ways he never experienced, creating an excruciatingly splitting headache between his temples. He wanted to drink from you so bad yet he could not move a single muscle.

“You can tell me to do anything. You can tell me to stay away from you. You can tell me to leave you alone. Hell, you can tell me to kill myself and I’d do it.” He ground out, attempting to press his back further into the wall as he felt your body heat against his skin. You came too close. He could smell your hormones lacing through your blood, triggering a wash of his shi over his dry tongue and a yearning to tear you apart overriding his senses.

He wanted to sink his fangs into your flesh so badly that he was beginning to scare himself. Allowing his venom to seep into your system would undoubtedly send you into ecstasy; you would only feel a pinch of pain as his saliva instantly burned through your nerves and set them alight. He could kill you while you were in pleasure; you wouldn’t feel anything but bliss as he drained the life from you.

“And why do you, a powerful creature such as yourself, allow me to have this power over you?” You asked. Was he in love with you? You definitely could love the man with how much you felt drawn to him but, for crying out loud, it had only been a few weeks.

“I don’t allow it. You are a gifted human. You possess this power over me.” Although Yoongi enjoyed having a calm conversation with you, he couldn’t help but feel bad that he used his gift on you. It was almost an unfair playing card- a “get-out-of-jail” card.

Because you should be running, terrified and screaming, even with his ability active in your mind. Maybe he had used it too much? Yoongi recalled the one time he went overboard with his gift, driving a man to suicide as he focused too much on the meaning of life and the regretful things he had done. Immediately concerned, Yoongi reached out a mental tether- a rare talent amongst his kind- to gauge your stability.

What he found, instead, was a dark and curling line attaching to his, pulling it in as quickly as Yoongi offered it. Before he could reel back away from it, it was fully intertwined and pulling his line to attach to you, only to rear back and completely obliterate his senses when it entered his head.

No. No no no. It’s impossible.

Yoongi was moving forward and caging you against the bed at full speed before he could stop himself, nestling his body between your eagerly opening legs as a hiss escaped his lips. Immediately, he realized that he broke through your command unwavered. The thirst came back at full force when you moaned from the friction on your heat.

“You’re-“ He tested the sensation of true, sexual arousal with a slow grind of himself into you, gasping with a jerk of his dick when his action squeezed his member between his body and yours. “You’re my-“

You moaned again, sitting up slightly to try and capture his lips with your own, unable to control the desire that surmounted in your heart. When he resumed his look of shock, backing away from your advance so that he could look at where your bodies touched, you spoke through the heady emotion. “I’m your what?”

“It can’t be.” He whispered. After a single beat, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours with a crushing pressure that split your lip instantly.

The pain seared across your bottom lip and distracted you for a moment, emitting a groan deep in your throat that he matched when the taste of your blood exploded onto his tastebuds. Instead of swallowing it like he wanted to, he brought a hand to your chin and opened your lips to spit your blood, along with his venom, back into your mouth so that it would take your pain away.

For a moment, you held the mix of liquids on your tongue, unsure of what to do as no one had ever spit in your mouth before. You looked up to him with confusion extremely evident in your arched brows.

“Swallow it.” He growled.

The taste of iron and an almost sugary sweet tang of saliva was too strong for you to keep sitting on your tongue, so you did as he told you to before he kissed you again to repeat the same action. Slowly, you got into the rhythm of swallowing what he gave you.

Before long, he simply gave you his tongue, allowing you to suck the saliva from his mouth greedily. You didn’t understand why, but the taste was addicting and adding to the pulsing feeling that radiated between your legs. Were you getting lightheaded? No. This sensation was much more blissful and exciting.

He pulled away after sucking on your wounded lip once more, spitting the mixture into your awaiting mouth for a final time before sitting up to look down at your body.

His venom was already taking effect. He could smell it on your skin as it flowed through your veins and filled your system just like a virus would. It would be simple to turn you at this point. You would be his for eternity, bonded to him in ways only the Fated One of a vampire would. Yoongi shook the thought from his head as he wasn’t even sure that you were, indeed, his.

“What am I to you?” You asked genuinely, swollen lip slightly obstructing your speech.

“Don’t worry about that right now, Y/N. Right now, I am going to fuck you, okay?” He met your gaze with his dark eyes filled with confidence, knowing that you would be unable to deny him if his belief was true.

“Yes. Yes, please Yoongi.” You breathed, begging him almost drunkenly. “Please. I’m yours.”

His mind was nudged forward by a different force this time, warranting unknown instincts to play into action.

He felt his center of gravity shift. His skin grew tight and uncomfortable around his body from the emotion that wished to burst through the surface. He breathed with you. Perfectly aligned were your rhythms; his heart soared alongside your own galloping one, desperate to match you in every aspect. The sensations in his body were difficult to ignore as he felt the ancient and sacred pull of a bond lacing itself through his limbs.

Instead of pondering over the reality of it any further, he slid his hand from your chin to your shirt and pinched the fabric between his fingers. You nodded in reassurance.

Your clothes tore form your body like paper. Wrapping his fingers around your arm to keep your body in place, Yoongi ripped your thin blouse from you easily. Your breasts, made plump by the bra you wore, caught his attention the moment they were revealed. Perfect.

Instead of looking like a moron seeing exquisite breasts for the first time, he moved his hand to your dress pants so that he could rid your body of them. In under ten seconds, Yoongi had you almost bare below him. Perfect.

Not even realizing it until you brought your thumb to his lips to swipe his shi from the corner of his mouth, Yoongi shook his head at the fact that the sight of you wriggling and bare-skinned beneath him made him literally drool, but his instincts went haywire when he watched you place your thumb in your mouth to suck his venom off yourself with a low moan of appreciation at the taste.

Yoongi’s hands couldn’t move faster as he tore the clothes from his body, stripping himself bare to reveal himself to you. He wanted to give you everything. To open his mind and spread everything out for you to see- he hoped you could handle it.

You, on the other hand, were laying below him with the desperate need to have him inside you.

You wanted him everywhere. You wanted him to sink himself into you- it seemed to be the only fathomable option. You wanted him to hold you and kiss you and surround you with everything him.

As you stared up at him with a needy look in your eyes, you couldn’t help but want him in every facet possible.

You saw yourself making love to him, holding him, kissing him- loving him. The new sensation brought on you by the psychic connection- that was all you could call it when you felt the mental attachment- brung passionate emotions through your body in an onslaught that you could barely handle. It was too much to deal with without him inside you to be with you through it yet you didn’t know if you could handle what would follow.

Yoongi could smell you through your panties; a delicious scent of the most raw tease he had ever allowed himself to indulge in. Unable to help himself, he moved down your body quickly, throwing your legs open- rather roughly- to give himself room to press his nose straight into your heat. Your aroma filled his nose as he expanded his lungs, triggering his natural instincts to push out his fangs and load his vision with blood to enhance it despite his eyes being closed. Fuck, he wanted to consume you.

You keened at the contact, closing your thighs around his head to trap him there. You felt his groan vibrate on you, driving you closer to the brink of insanity.

Without any further time wasted, he grabbed onto your panties and ripped them from you to expose your pulsating pussy to his mouth without moving his nose away from your intoxicating scent. Not a beat passed before he dug his tongue into you to scoop up your DNA-laced juices. Fuck.

Yoongi lost himself in you immediately. You whined out a small cry, unable to keep yourself from grabbing onto his hair and yanking when all you felt were his lips and tongue laving over your opening relentlessly. There was no skill nor technique in his movements; he was simply devouring you without a mind to pay attention to your bundle, yet you couldn’t stop the sensitivity from boggling your mind and driving you to an instant orgasm.

His hands squeezed your thighs around his head and, for a brief moment, he opened his eyes to look at you. The color of his eyes staring back at you was unexpected- a solid, snow white color filled his orbs and contrasted starkly with the red hue of his engorged veins and bloodshot scleras.

“Yoongi,” You whimpered from another swipe of his tongue and suck from his lips. “Y-Your eyes.”

He pulled away from you instantly at the comment, eyes widening and wet mouth hanging agape, while you let out a groan of relief- or sadness- at the lack of attention to your incredibly sensitive core.

“What color are they?” He asked.

“White.” You struggled to speak, voice cracking under the post-orgasm glow.

He took a moment to look down at your heaving body and messy pussy, jerking forward slightly at the sight of your delicious juice smeared all over your thighs. Once he had a handle on his thirst again, Yoongi met your eyes as the white faded from his irises. “Then you are her.”

“I’m who?” You reached for him, needing to hold him anywhere you could get your hands on. Yoongi caught this action immediately, the same desire to grasp you evident in his hand rushing to meet yours. It was natural to intertwine your fingers while he leaned over you to press his lips to yours in a short, uncharacteristically loving kiss.

“You are my Fated One- my mate. You hold my soul in the palm of your hand, as I do yours.” He murmured, feathering his lips over yours as he spoke.

Under normal circumstances, you don’t think you’d be able to comprehend his words with your current position with him. You were exposed to him and he was exposed to you, making you feel vulnerable and turned on beyond belief. Yoongi was reaching behind you to unclasp your bra while you took in what he had said. His thumb was brushing over your bare nipple before your bra even hit the floor.

“So-” You had to clear your throat again. “So you’re mine? Like, completely?”

He chuckled warmly at your question and you couldn’t stop yourself from reciprocating the smile.

“Yes, Y/N, I am yours.” He brought his hand down to grip your thigh and move it to the side. “I belong to you.”

Yoongi placed his dick against your folds and you watched him so do. You felt his tip capture onto your clit several times as he lathered it with your arousal languidly, preparing himself so that he could slide into you easier. “However,”

“However?” You looked up at him with a questioning look accentuated by your eyebrows.

“You are also mine.” Yoongi stopped his movement so that the head of his cock finally caught onto your opening, kickstarting your heart into a pace that you were afraid would kill you. “Do you understand that?”

He didn’t wait for you to answer.

Torturously, he began to push inside you. You widened your legs to accompany his approaching hips. As you warbled out a cry when he decided to drop his control and fill you completely in the next second, Yoongi began speaking again.

“Do you understand that everything about you,” He reared back and pushed inside you again, forcing your legs open to take him while he did so. “-is mine?”

You couldn’t respond. Your emotions were running rampant with your mind overflowing from too much stimuli while he fucked you. He spoke again without your reply and you could only pull him closer to you and take the feeling of his cock caressing your insides.

“Your lips,” Thrust. “your eyes,” Thrust. “your hair, your hands, your skin;” He punctuated each part of your body with a ram of his dick into you. “Everything, Y/N.”

Yoongi took a moment to look down at your joining bodies, smirking softly at the sight of how easily he slid inside. “-Especially this greedy little cunt of yours.”

You watched his smirk drop while he bit his lip and ground himself into you, lips parting again with a low moan whilst keeping his gaze transfixed on the sinful sight. You watched him in awe as his cock plunged so deep that it felt like it was in your throat.

He snapped his eyes to yours quickly, repeating his prior question. “Do you understand?”

Expecting to be interrupted by a thrust, you sucked your bottom lip in your mouth and braced yourself, only to be grabbed by the neck while he leaned down to bring you face-to-face. You could no longer breathe as he pulled his lips back to reveal his fangs. “I asked you if you understood, Y/N.”

With your airway restricted, you could only nod with your lip still stuck between your teeth. Did you taste blood? Promptly, you remembered that Yoongi busted your lip, yet you were confused as to why you hadn’t felt the pain of it since he first kissed you.

“And are you okay with that?” Yoongi began to nose his way down your neck once he turned your head to the side and slowed the rhythm of his hips. Right before you could answer, he released your neck to look at your face, allowing a large rush of air to enter your lungs just as you were attempting to give him an answer.

“Yes!” You released your lip to scream out at the welcome sensation of oxygen and the feel of his dick pushing it right back out of you. “I’m yours! Everything is yours!”

“Good, my love. Good.” He whispered, smiling down at you. His smile was wiped clean off his face in a heartbeat, his thrusts into you completely ceased, as he zeroed in on your lips. You licked them subconsciously, immediately tasting blood and internally cringing at the flavor of iron coating your tongue.

Yoongi attached his lips around your bottom one quickly and you felt him suck it into his mouth. Your walls squeezed tightly around his at the sensation of his tongue swiping over the spli in your engorged lip again and again. You knew that your lip would be swollen yet you couldn’t find yourself to care because it, surprisingly, didn’t hurt at all. The small bits of Yoongi’s saliva that slipped into your mouth were enough to keep you on edge, tasting like raw sugar at that point.

He began moving inside you again, starting a slow and steady pace. You whimpered into his mouth as he began taking his fill of your blood and you mirrored his thirst with the need to taste his mouth again. Your lips pressed closer to his in order to, hopefully, get a bit more of his spit.

You felt your orgasm building laggardly. It was creeping in at a speed that you were able to prepare yourself for your ascent towards ecstasy. You tightened your legs around his waist and dug your heels into the globes of his ass, pulling him in.

It wasn’t until you were bordering on your climax that Yoongi pulled away from your lip with your pop and sat up to focus on fucking you, his peace of mind obviously waning.

You saw it in his face; you saw the way he couldn’t control his veins from darkening his face; you saw the way his eyes burned white and the way he was attempting to hold himself back from attacking you.

So you did him a favor.

“Yoongi.” You mumbled past your swollen lip. “Bite me.”

Min Yoongi had no option but to obey your command.

He surged forward, pressing himself against your clit deliciously and bottoming out as he lunged for your neck with his fangs fully protruded and a warbled hiss scratching its way out of his throat. With barely enough time to prepare, you bared your neck to him once more and clutched onto his arms for dear life, hoping it wouldn’t hurt too bad.

What you weren’t expecting was for it to feel unreservedly good.

The sensation took you by surprise, warranting a loud moan to escape from your lips before you could stop it. Why did his fangs feel so good in your flesh? It should definitely be hurting. But all you could do was moan and whine like a madwoman as you felt his lips close over the puncture wounds and begin to drink your blood straight from your flesh. His tongue continuously swiped over the teeth marks in your neck, keeping them clear from your body’s natural ability to scar itself and begin blocking the escaping blood. Every lick he delivered sent a pulse straight to your clit and an automatic instinct to tighten yourself around him.

Your pussy quivered around him uncontrollably. You were so close to cumming that you could practically taste the release on your tongue. In the few moments that Yoongi took his sips from your body, his slow propulsions forward into you had become more rough and insistent- as if he was trying to split you in two. Even as you felt your life essence leave your body, you were being filled time and time again by his cock at a deep and passionate rhythm.

At the first sign of getting lightheaded from blood loss, you came- hard.

Your juices squirted around him every time he reared himself back and your eyes rolled to the back of your head while you craned your neck back into your very-bloody pillow. With no where to go, unable to still him with his supernatural strength, you were only able scream out his name.

His speed increased through your orgasm and your sweet exclamations of pure bliss drove Yoongi into a lunatic, freeing himself of control and using his uncanny speed to fuck into you. Your extremely drenched pussy, still convulsing around him was battered and raw, yet he could not find it in himself to care as he desperately surged into you over and over again so that he could fill you with the cum of several centuries. Picturing the image of your cunt spewing his release from it had him closing his jaws and pulling on your wounds harder to get more blood from you.

He knew that he couldn’t drain you. Hearing the pulse of your heart weaken slightly was enough to make him detach his teeth and lick over your wound so that his shi could assist it in healing- it would be completely sealed and unblemished in the next few hours. Instead of worrying too much about your neck, he reared back to look down at you again while he grabbed onto your hips with fervor.

You saw the drops of blood running down from Yoongi’s mouth and chin drip onto your breasts and stomach, creating an erotic and utterly unwholesome image of carnage and horror on your body, but you were unable to help yourself in feeling unsettlingly drawn to the wicked image. With a new flash of desire exploding through your body and reawakening your lust, you reached up and grabbed his neck, pulling him back down to trap him in your embrace.

The oversensitivity of your last orgasm was enough to send you hurtling to the edge of another orgasm- You just needed his fangs in you one more time. Silently begging for it, you kept your grip on his nape and softly nudged him back in the direction of your neck.

Yoongi was close. You could tell. But even past his stupor, he spoke.

“Y/N. I can’t. I took too much.” He almost whined with need, struggling to form words past his fangs.

“Just-“ Your body jolted wildly as he desperately tried to cum. “Just do it!”

Yoongi was able to deny your command, which he figured was due to not being a specific one, yet he couldn’t bring himself to leave it unanswered as his body built in preparation to release.

“I fucking can’t!” He was close to roaring at this point, gums aching to meet your flesh as he pressed his fangs into you and filled you with his essence. He wanted to so badly.

“Drink from me, dammit!” Your eyes were welling with tears of frustration, needing that small push from him to make you orgasm again- his dick hammering your cervix was too much to handle without that small bit of pain to ground you. And without hesitation nor the choice to deny you, he did.

Your orgasms were perfectly in sync as he placed his fangs back into your wounds, delicious blood spilling across his tongue once again. Liquid life. It was the perfect few words for how you tasted.

Your pussy ached with the force of how tight you squeezed around him and Yoongi groaned lowly against your neck as he pressed himself so tightly to you that you knew his hands would be leaving bruises on your hips and ass.

“Yoongi.” You sobbed as his cum filled you, pulsing spurt after warm spurt of the hot liquid onto your abused cervix. The thought of him taking your blood while he gave you his cum was too sinful for you to bear, an outburst of emotion causing you to chant his name over and over again. Never before in your life had you felt so complete and free.

You could feel your blood levels draining as you slowly came down from your climax, knowing that you would not be awake for much longer if he kept drinking.

“That’s enough.” You whispered tiredly, head becoming truly lightheaded. Yoongi, unable to rescind his teeth from your neck, kept drinking from you as the thirst and aggression of the first mating actuated his movements. “Yoongi.”

He tried to pull away- he really did- but the feeling of your blood coating his tastebuds was like finding a quarry in the middle of the Sahara Desert. He lacked the true thirst for humans for thousands of years- and now he was suffering the polydipsia for blood all over again.

“Yoongi, stop.” You commanded, testing your supposed ‘power.’

Yoongi ceased to drink from you yet his fangs were still embedded in your skin, vibrating with pleasure and need. As he stopped, he couldn’t help but whine and then growl savagely with want. The vibration of of his throaty sound in your flesh did things to your body. Unable to resist the temptation, your body clenched involuntarily around his softening cock.

Yoongi groaned again, retracting his fangs and face from your neck, and sat up once more to look at your body. With a slow hand, he stuck out his index and middle finger to smear the droplets of blood on your stomach in small circles aimlessly, picturing you as a canvas made just for him to ruin. “You’re quite the minx, aren’t you?”

“What do you mean?” You giggled deliriously, needing sleep as soon as possible.

“I mean,” Yoongi reached down to smear a droplet of blood across your hip before digging his thumb and fingers into the bone and the flesh of your ass harshly. “Your cunt is playing games with me right now.”

“How so?” You tilted your head to the side in mock confusion.

The vampire pressed his lips into a thin line and sighed almost disdainfully. You gasped as you felt his dick jerk within you, filling to stiffness once more and awakening a new cloud of lust despite the exhaustion you felt. “Well, if you want to play clueless, you can play clueless. We have eternity to teach you how to not play games with me, my mate.”

For eternity? You kind of liked the sound of that.

~#~

If you’d like to read more of my work, feel free to check out my Series Masterlist! If you’d like to read my first fic, check out the DHYB Masterlist!

[morizoras-cave]

Sleepover (Collab with @lozzypoz321)

Sebastian Stan x f!teen!co-star!reader, MCU Cast x f!teen!co-star!reader

Genre: fluff, crack honestly

Description: You and the MCU cast have a secret sleepover on set.

Warnings: language!!

A/N by morizoras-cave: this was even more fun than the last fic, loz is so so funny and so so talented and i just feel so comfortable writing with her :) also so many… bad things… happened while we wrote this. I mean it was chaotic.. I hope you enjoy its LONG

A/N by @lozzypoz321​: this was so much fun to write and I loved it!! Honestly you do not want to know what happened behind th scenes because that was a m e s s. Vic is suck and amazing writer and deserves so much love! Hope you enjoy!!

“Kid, open the door!” your head snapped to the door of your hotel room. You recognised Sebastian’s voice coming from outside. “Open up!”

“I’m coming” you yelled, padding over to the door and opening up. Sebastian and Anthony stood out there. They looked oddly child-like as they stood there with their sleeping bags and dressed in pjs. You snorted. “Well, hello to you too!” 

“Don’t laugh, N/n, this is serious.” Anthony said as you walked out, you also dressed in your marvel pjs and with a sleeping bag in hand. Although, you thought, it was hard to take him seriously when he was dressed in Winnie The Pooh slippers. 

“Whatever you say, man.”

The entirety of the marvel cast had planned a sleepover on set. It was very secret, apparently. You didn’t know the full story, but they had seemingly asked the directors if they could have an onset sleepover and they’d refused, so someone had to steal a key. It was a whole process, but nonetheless you found yourself on the way to set at around 10:30. 

“Is anyone bringing snacks?” you asked. You, Seb and Anthony were walking down the street. You could see the set already. “Damn, I hope so” Anthony mumbled and you all continued walking. 

When you got there Elizabeth was standing outside, holding the door open with what you assumed was the stolen key. She ushered you inside. “You’re late and for some reason I’m not surprised.”

Inside all the others were already waiting, the entirety of the cast. Notably, you could see that Robert, Scarlett and Mark had created a pillow fort, and were hiding out in the coziness with a bag of popcorn. 

“Welcome, late-comers!” Robert greeted you dramatically, standing up in his Iron Man onesie. “You’ve missed the pizzas. You know, because you’re late!” 

“It’s fine, we already ate. Which is why we’re late,” Sebastian pointed nodded to Anthony. You nodded along.

Everyone sat down on a large stretch of couches, blankets and pillows, where Elizabeth had placed a projector pointed to an empty wall of the set. You sat down with Tom (Hiddleston), Sebastian and Mark. It was a rather weird thing to see so many grown men and women (that you had previously had respect for) in their most colourful pjs, but you supposed it was on you to expect any differently from this cast of people. 

Chris (Evans) had picked a movie and, unsurprisingly, he picked Iron Man 1. Robert protested for about two seconds, before he let everyone shower him in compliments because that movie was so damn good. “Okay okay, I guess we can watch it if we really have to”

Scarlett lightly laughed and pressed a button on the projector to start the movie after placing the disk inside that Chris (Evans) had brought from his collection at his house. “Where’s the snacks?” You heard Chris (Hemsworth) loudly whisper to Scarlett who sat next to him. 

“Ooh do we have popcorn?” You quietly asked Sebastian who nodded and reached across Anthony who was laid next to him to retrieve the salted popcorn that Mark had gotten just for you as he was in charge of the snack committee. Chris (Evans) silently got up, after making sure nobody noticed him (except from you), and crawled across the room in his rapunzel pjs on his hands and knees to reach Robert who was now on the verge of unconsciousness with dribble falling from the side of his mouth. Trying to be discreet, he raised his hands scarily behind him, gaining everybody’s attention in the room except Robert, and suddenly pounced on him in a playful manner. 

The man leapt up without warning with wide eyes the size of dinner plates and held his hands up as if he was doing karate in a mode of self defence. Everybody in the room burst out laughing at his reaction, Chris (Evans) reaching for his left pec as he leant back on his knees in a full on belly laugh. “You looked like you were a 6 year old girl” Scarlett laughed out and shook her head towards the man, who was now grumbling as he sat back down on his spot with an abundance of blankets by his side. 

“All the snacks are gone” Anthony exclaimed to the cast, making Tom (Hiddleston) look up from the screen and ponder “well we could do something that doesn’t require food” he suggested, making everyone look at him to continue. 

“I mean, we could play hide and seek?”

“Oh!” You exclaimed excitedly, one of your first inputs of the night “I’d love to play hide and seek! My dad used to do it with me all the time!”

Your happy demeanour made them all smile as you began explaining how he would hide next to you while your brother tried to find both of you. “Well it’s settled then, we’re playing hide and seek!” Chris (Hemsworth) announced in his Australian accent, before you could be told twice, you jumped up and grabbed Sebastian's hand before racing out of the room, not even giving anybody a second glance. 

“Woah, where are we going?” Sebastian chuckled, following your rapid footsteps. “Don’t worry about this, Seb, I’ve the perfect hiding spot!” It was a little bit embarrassing to admit, but every time you entered a new place, you thought about the best hiding spots (in case of an unwarranted game of hide and seek). 

You pulled Sebastian into the costume room and shuffled awkwardly into the back. There, you found your masterful hiding place. It was a vent, but not a small one. It was big. Sebastian looked at you in surprise. “Not bad, Y/n.” 

You popped the cover right off, catching Sebastian off guard. “I unscrewed it back in February,” you explained and jumped inside. Sebastian seemed to want to question you further, but instead just shrugged to himself and followed you inside, closing the vent cover behind him.

“This really is the perfect place,” he mumbled, voice echoing slightly in the vents. It was pretty cold, but stable. “And hey, didn’t you say that your dad used to hide with you?” He asked while looking around the airy place. “Oh, um, yeah” you said sheepishly, just now remembering the moment in the other room. 

“Um- I-I mean, not that you’re my- Like, my dad-” you stammered, blushing at the awkward moment, “Like- My dad is my dad- You’re just- I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to make this awkward, I just-”

“Shut up!” Sebastian hissed suddenly. You looked at him, taken aback. He was staring out the vent covers, and then looked back at you with a grin. He pointed to it silently. Your brows furrowed, and you looked out. You saw Chris in the room, hand holding a flashlight while aiming it around the room, trying to find a sign of anybody. You held your breath. 

“I know you’re in here! I can smell your fear!” he yelled trying to act scary. Meanwhile, he just looked kind of goofy in his Disney princess pjs. You saw Sebastian beside you, trying not to laugh. His face was contorted into a forced frown, but a smile still crept up the corners of his mouth. Seeing his face, you started feeling the urge to laugh too. 

You both laughed silently, trying so hard to not give away your position to Chris. You were failing miserably. 

“I will find you!” Chris said again, and this time Sebastian let out a laugh, immediately clamping a hand over his mouth. His eyes widened and so did yours. Chris stopped moving, snapping his head around furiously. “Who was that? Where are you?” 

You saw the moment Sebastian decided to give up on hiding, as he just suddenly started laughing like a maniac. You did too, both of you clutching your stomachs. Chris scoffed and tore the vent cover off, revealing the two of you laughing uncontrollably. 

“Come on, guys, it wasn’t that funny!” Chris sighed, but he was wrong, it was definitely that funny. You guys went back to the movie room. Robert, Tom, Scarlett and Anthony had all already been found.

“Welcome to the losers!” Tom grumbled. You both sat down with him and chatted while waiting for the others to turn up. The next was Mark, who had been hiding under a table, and then Elizabeth who wasn’t even trying, but was somehow second last anyway. 

Then came the waiting game. Hemsworth, the biggest of you all, the goofiest, and seemingly the easiest to spot, was still at large. Chris was hopelessly searching, but came back every ten minutes with a more and more depressed look on his attractive face.

“I can’t find him!” he admitted finally. There was a collective sigh, and then everyone started searching together, simultaneously calling out “Chris! The aussie one!” Eventually you did find him, crammed behind a couch uncomfortably. 

When you finally did, Anthony (as well as several others) seemed to have only grown hungrier, and the need for snacks was larger than ever. “I swear to god if we don’t find food right now I may just quit the job” Anthony swore and huffed as he crossed both his arms over his chest. “That seems a bit dramatic but okay” Scarlett laughed as the ten of you rounded a corner in the building to only come face to face with an abundance of vending machines that everyone used at break and you all had seemingly forgotten about. “Woah” Tom said, impressed at the arrangement. 

“Food galore,” Elizabeth expressed and was the first one to walk towards, closer to the arrangement, leaving the rest of you by the wall with your jaws dropped. “If I’m sick, don’t blame it on me” you quietly expressed, making Mark laugh from his spot next to you. 

Trying not to seem too excited, Anthony ran forward, eyes following each and every item of edible food and drink. “I think you better hurry up” Tom commented from his spot the furthest from you, noticing the way Anthony and Chris were now eyeing your favourite type of chips. 

“Umm yeah, that sounds like a good idea”

You, Robert and Sebastian immediately went over to the vending machine that was holding doritos, lays, and other classic chips. “Um, about earlier,” you mumbled to the Romanian man as Robert began to shake the machine with force, hoping something would fall down “I didn’t mean it like that” your cheeks flooded with embarrassment as the memory came flashing back to you.

But before you could start apologising even more, he stopped you and sent a reassuring smile your way “don’t worry about it Y/N, I know what you meant.” He gave your shoulder a small squeeze, before going back to watching Robert yelling at the Doritos to “fall out, you big pussy!”

Before Chris (Evans) and Tom could come over to your side of the room to be responsible adults and make a rational decision, Chris (Hemsworth) had already come bounding over to you and kicked the glass where the chips were held behind. He put full force behind the kick, so it shattered and fell loudly with a crash to the ground. 

“Erm. Good idea?”

For no reason at all the situation was just funny to you, so while everyone in the room was stood still shocked (apart from Hemsworth who rocked back and forth on his feet sheepishly) you began to laugh. “What’s funny? You could literally cut your feet if you move!” Tom exclaimed with wide eyes, “you can’t get hurt we need to return you to your mom the same as we got you!”

Without warning Chris (Evans) ran over to you, making sure to carefully avoid the glass panes. “I’m not getting sued for this shit” he muttered as he picked you up and brought you over to a corner, which was a safe distance away from the wreckage.

“Alright, this has gotten out of hand,” Mark ran a hand through his hair, as he surveyed the broken glass on the floor in distress. Elizabeth nodded. You made eye contact with Scarlett and Anthony, who very clearly didn’t share the same concern that Mark and Elizabeth did. You all giggled quietly. 

“But uh, let’s take advantage of the situation, eh?” Chris (Hemsworth) pulled a couple bags of doritos out of the broken vending machine, “Free doritos?” He shook the bags playfully. There was a moment where people seemed to question whether they prioritized their dignity of the free doritos, and it’s fair to say that a large number of them chose the doritos. 

You all went back to the movie room, collapsing on your mattresses and blankets, with your snacks. But before any of you could begin to focus on the movie once again, a sudden gasp broke out from across the room. “He has the last bag of Doritos!”

“No I don’t” Hemsworth was quick to deny Elizabeth’s claim but everyone could see the full bag that he had attempted to stuff under his blanket. All of a sudden, Scarlett leapt out of her sleeping bag, trying to reach the chips before he did, but unfortunately all the gym workouts he had been going to (or yoga lessons you weren’t really sure) were paying off, as he held the woman at bay so he could grab the snack and hold it far out of her reach.

“Give it” she grunted and tried to reach past his grip and take the chips for herself, but before she had a chance, Chris (Evans) jumped up from his spot over by Tom and snatched the bag from him, holding a victorious grin on his face. Chris (Hemsworth) pouted angrily at his costar, not bothering to fight back as he knew it would be a losing battle (he was captain America for Christ’s sake). But you had a trick up your sleeve, you wanted those chips and you were going to get them whether it was the last thing you did.

Picking up the pillow beside you, you held it up as a shield as ran forward as fast as you could, taking in the confused expression Chris held in his face before you smashed into his stomach, knocking the air out of your lungs but unfortunately, not his.

He chuckled deeply as you smashed back into the wooden floors groaning as the pain surged through you. “I don’t think that worked as well as you thought it would” Mark commented from his comfortable spot on his mattress. 

“No, it really didn’t”

The movie ended, and slowly but surely people started going to bed. There were yawns and stretches around you all bundled together on the floor. You too found yourself growing tired, stuffing yourself into your sleeping bag and getting comfortable. 

“Goodnight!” you murmured and those who were awake mumbled it back drowsily. You distinctly heard Sebastian mutter back to you from his sleeping bag “shut up, I’m tired”. You chuckled for the last time that night, as soon sleep overcame you. 

Then, at the the buttcrack of dawn, a scream came from the nearest entrance: “WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK-” 

And that was the inspiring story of how body searches became a daily routine on set, so the Russos could make sure no one had gotten their grubby hands on an extra key.

___________________________

Tag List:

@hera-the-writer @marvel-madness @40srogcrs @whatthefuckimbisexual @snarky–starky @garbage-potato @lozzypoz321 @allthecreativeonesaretaken @missamericana713 @rororo06 @shady80smusicsingercolor @ireadfanficforfun @deephideoutmilkshake @rae-is-typing @sophs-library @herecomesthewriterwitch @alicedanganh @eviemarvel @idk123906 @tamayakii​

[mhdiaries]

Diary of Clawdeen Wolf

This is my diary. If you want you life to last longer than in takes to read it. You won’t.

July 14th

I got up late so there was no hot water left then I cut myself shaving this morning cause my razor was dull and I was in a hurry to get out of the freezing water but amazingly enough the day actually went down hill from there… Later on Crescent, the alpha kitty, must have sensed my mood cause instead of spending the night prowling around her curled up in my lap and kept me company while I sorted through my funk.

July 15th

It rained today. I hate the rain. It totally caused my hair to poof out and I was not about to spend the rest of the day looking like a were-poodle. So I grabbed a pair of electric clippers and 15 minutes later I had new ‘do. It’s short, scary cute and perfectly wolfish. I think I’ll keep it for a while or at least until this rain goes away. I have decided that when I control my own fashion empire I’m going to have a stylist on call just for rainy days.

August 4th

I hate, hate, hate! Sharing a room with my sister. Howleen totally growls in her sleep, she wears my clothes and she got sprayed by a skunk last week which means that every time she takes a bath, which isn’t often, it stinks up the whole room. I’d hope she gets fleas but she’d just spread them to me.

August 7th

I’ve got to get serious about planning what I’m going to wear on the first day of school this year. I mean it’s not like I’m worried about some monster showing up and looking more fabulous than me but I feel obligated to set the bar for everyone else. Last year on the first day of school I caused a minor traffic jam just walking across the school parking lot. Its going to be hard to top that but I’ve been experimenting with some new hair styles and I’m considering just asking for a school assembly so that crowd control won’t be a problem.

August 10th

I tried a new hair remover made especially for werewolves. The label says it will totally eclipse unwanted hair and it’s supposed to keep you hair-free for a week…not. It’s expensive, it stings worse than wolfs bane and I still have to shave twice a day! What a rip…I could have used that money for a new belt.

August 15th

Spent the day at Draculaura’s. She’s the absolute sweetest BMFF ever! Although if she doesn’t stop trying to feed me tofu I’m going to bite her j/k ;p. She has like rooms and rooms of clothes. It’s like a fashion museum. So awesome! She always says that we’re going to pick out clothes to give Ghoul Will but she always gives most of them to me. I pretend I don’t need them but with so many brothers and sisters it’s not like there’s a lot of extra money to go around for new fashions. I guess we must have gotten a little loud though cause we woke up her dad. He doesn’t really like werewolves very much but he tolerates me cause I’m friends with Draculaura. Whatever. It’s not like I want to hang out with him either. Anyway, the best thing about Draculaura is that she doesn’t give me clothes because she feels sorry for me, she does it because she’s my friend.

August 19th

When to The Maul with Clawd today. He needed a new football and I needed to get some ideas for my next hair style. While I was there I saw the strangest thing. I was walking past the Witches Kitchen supply store and saw Deuce Gorgon reading a cookbook! I yelled “Yo Deuce, trying to find a recipe for snake?” He dropped the cookbook and looked all embarrassed; at least I think he was. It’s hard to tell what’s going on behind those glasses. I think he would have tried to stone me but Clawd walked up and Deuce chilled. Sometimes it’s cool to have the toughest guy in the school on your side. Thanks bro!

August 21st

If I were a mad scientist, the hairstyle experiment I tried today would be locked away in the lab never to see the light of day again. I flat ironed my hair so it was straight and then I razor cut it. As soon as the curl came back things got ugly. Even Howleen felt sorry for me. It’s a good thing I’m the werewolf equivalent of Rapunzel and my hair will be grown out by the end of the week or I’d be wearing a hat until Halloween.

August 23rd

Draculaura tried to talk me into trying out for the Fearleading squad again. Puhh..leeze. A list of why I’m not a fearleader:

1. I don’t “try out” for anything. 2. I wouldn’t be caught human in those uniforms. 3. -8. Boring and Cleo de Nile 4. While they’re yelling for the boys I’m in the stands flirting with the boys. 5. Boring and Cleo de Nile

I have thought about trying out just to show I could make the team but then I look at my list again and it reminds me why I don’t’ want to.

August 25th

Hung out an the Maul with Draculaura and met a new girl named Frankie Stein. She was shopping with her mom and fortunately for Frankie they ran into us. Otherwise she would have started the first day of school dressed like the Bride of Lame-n-stein. Frankie’s beautiful, and sweet but bit naïve. Fortunately, I’m here to make sure she gets properly educated in the ways of the fierce fashionista.

September 5th

Our annual End of Summer family boo-b-que was today. Mmmmm… fat juicy steaks for everybody. Except for Draculaura of course. She brought tofu dogs, veggie burgers and a human boy named Jackson Jekyll. She’ll always be my BMFF and the sweetest monster ever but ghoulfriend makes some strange choices. Anyway, I could tell he was really nervous, and what human surrounded by werewolves wouldn’t be, until Clawd started talking about football and then the two of them kinda hit it off. I think Draculaura is major league crushing on this guy.

September 6th

I know most monsters are probably dreading starting school but not me. I want to learn as much as I can so that I’ll be totally prepared when I start building my fashion empire. If for nothing else than to be able to move out of the house and get my own place without having to share everything with all my brothers and sisters. Oh no! I think I smell Howleen in the shower! Why couldn’t I have been an only wolf?

[lairofdragonagelore]

DA2: The Strange Idol

[This is part of the series “Playing DA like an archaeologist”]

A truly mysterious statue, that has been appearing in DA2 and DAI in different places, and the one that forced me to create this blog of lore. In DA2, we find it in three places:  The Harimann’s house basement, atop of the Sundermount, and inside Dumat’s Temple. Its resemblance in style  [shape of limbs, decoration, lines, material] to the Red Idol is worth noting. 

Details that are worthy to notice about this  idol

It has many limbs: two legs, four arms.

Its face is monkey-like or a bit toad-like. Its mouth is open, its eyes a bit squinted. 

Its chest and stomach have swirls. One can associate swirls all over the games with lyrium or, in DAI, with Veilfire and therefore elvhenan gods [the dragon statue that represents Myhtal as well as the howling wolf statue that represents Fen’harel both have swirls along their body]

Its limbs have long carvings, like canals from which blood drips of got dried. It's very subtle, but the red lines in them have been present in both designs [in DA2 and DAI]

In DAI appears in a cave of Western Approach where you can place your landmark, and it's called “The Thing in the Dark”. Once again, the darkness topic is recurrent. The small message we get is “This statue is oddly warm to the touch and shivers slightly, as though it might have a pulse.”

Sebastian’s Quest: Basement of Harimann’s mansion

The first time we find it is during act 2 if we play with the DLC and follow Sebastian’s quest: We know the Harimann Family, a noble family of Kirkwall, which was former ally of Sebastian’s family but they betrayed them, getting involved in the assassination of Sebastian’s family.  When we reach this place, we find that everyone is behaving odd, so we explore the mansion.

At some point in the exploration, we enter to the basement of the Harimann Family’s mansion. Bellow, we find big, lugubrious corridors and ancient chambers with scary decoration.  Iron maidens, skeletons, spooky lamps, etc. Of course, since this game has a limitation in resources, we find little variety with the basic game. However, what we are seeing is an ancient Tevinter ruin built below the mansion [a costume that Tevinter Nights informs us seems to be quite natural in Mintharous].  We also know that Kirkwall, historically, has a lot of ruins and chambers below the city itself.

There are falling apart arcs and those typical strange dragon-skull totem so easily to find everywhere in DA2, a totem that in DA2 has no codex associated with, and there is no information about it. In DAI we will see them again as part of ritualistic pits to keep barriers and raise the dead in the Exalted Plains, so we can assume they are always related to necromancy and/or blood magic.

At the end of the chamber, we find a desire demon with several shades. The bind of the desire demon to the statue is not said explicitly but it’s heavily implied. One could suppose that, since Merril’s quest is about a pride demon bind to a similar statue, this desire demon was bind to this one and the Harimann family awakened it.

This supposition is stronger when, later, we talk to the daughter of the family, who tells us that her mother [the person who summoned this demon] was not a mage, and found these ruins and the demon below their house when they were making an expansion. And again, we know how that worked with Merril’s case, so it’s quite safe to assume that these ancient ruins kept a [desire] demon attached to the strange idol statue.

In Merril’s quest we find this idol close to these strange dragon-skull totems too. They are seen when you enter to the demon’s chamber, while here is repeated several times along the corridors and here, beside the statue.

The light in this quest seems to be better and we can see a small detail in the strange idol: its carved lines along its body seem to have dried blood. Its design makes sense for blood sacrifices:  the canals in the skin of this creature may facilitate to keep and hold blood while spreading along the statue during rituals.

Merril’s Quest

We know that Merril interacted with a demon trapped in this strange idol to acquire the powers to restore her Eluvian.  

When all the alternatives to restore the mirror failed, Merril suggests us to help her to talk with the demon again. She can’t contact him from the alienage, so she needs to return to that cave atop Sundermount. We know this demon apparently knows how to cleanse the eluvian since it witnessed its forging. Merril calls this statue an “artefact”.

As in the case of Sebastian’s quest, we enter to this chamber where we are going to fight the pride demon and the first thing we see are three strange dragon-skull totems.

There are more of those totems spread in the area, ancient altars with green fire, and falling apart-arcs. One could say that we find most of the elements from Sebastian’s quest. I would not go too far making connection here, since Sebastian’s quest came later in development than this, and everything seems to favour the idea that, more than lore, it’s an aesthetic choice. It’s hard to point out if these elements are Tevinter or Elvenhan since DA2 is a game with very limited resources in its design.

A nice detail we have here is that beside the strange idol we find a felandaris plant, which speaks a lot when it comes to lore: they only grow around places where the veil is thin and demon presence is expected. This plant alone here is telling us that this place has experienced strong blood magic or a lot of death. One could suspect that it is consequence of Merril’s actions, when she contacted the demon bind to the statue. On the other hand, one could even suspect that it’s because bigger blood sacrifices have been performed during this battle where “horrors were unleashed by Elvenhan and Tevinter alike during the past “, according to the codex of Sundermount.

Merril gives us more details related to this statue: it is where the demon resides, bind by Elves or Tevinters, she doesn’t know which one did it.

It’s a bit conflicting to believe if this statue is Tevinter in origin: that would explain without much conflict why the Harimann family had a secret ritual room below their house [a Tevinter custom that Kirkwall inherited as the codex Enigma of Kirkwall states]. But this interpretation makes the strange idol found in DAI [inside Eladrin’s tomb in a temple of the Emerald Knights = Din’an Hanin] an inconsistency: why a non-profaned elven temple would have a Tevinter statue in it?

Now, if we assume this statue has always been elven; the conflicts are minor: that the Harimann had it in that secret cave below their manor is not strange when we know that Tevinters have always co-opted Elven artefacts and claim them their own.  So, I am a bit more inclined to think this statue is elven in origin and co-opted by Tevinters.

A zoom-in of the statue reveals blood in some canals of its legs. Or it is another thing? I would not suspect it is red lyrium since we know how infectious it is, and how easily it grows.  All these toad-like statues we see in DA2 and DAI have those red lines in between the carvings, some of them should have grown into spikes already if it were red lyrium. Since it’s related to demons, and demons to blood magic, I think it’s more natural to think of dried blood.

If we believe Marethari [and you know how much I doubt Dalish characters explaining how things “are”, since they lost the true knowledge over centuries] the eluvian that trapped Tamlen [the same one that Merril is working on] is a gate to the Fade or a Fade pocket [an in-between space like the Crossroads]. I conclude this because Marethari explains that, had Merril restored the mirror, it would turn out into a doorway out of its prison. A demon in the Fade is not in a “prison” but in its realm. However, if there are small pockets of in-between the Fade and the waking world, acting like prisons [as we saw the Eluvian prison in the Trespasser DLC], it makes sense to think him as trapped in an in-between plane.

Besides, Marethari claims that she could not reach him in the Fade because he was “trapped” [so he was not in the Fade per se]. And banishing him would make him stronger [because death would allow him to return to the Fade? This is not clear for me]. Another reason more to think in an in-between plane as a prison. 

As a detail that I will go further in the post related to Merril’s Eluvian, the loadscreen of Merril could potentially show where this demons is trapped: it shows on its top the oversimplification of a skull of a halla? Or it could be a dragon? If it’s a dragon, the structure of the whole mirror slightly resembles the strange dragon-skull totems. In the background we see those vein-like trees that resemble the trees of the crossroads in DAI, which is a place in-between the material world and the Fade and where we can reach other eluvians that are mere rooms or cells. Strangely, behind all of that:  Andraste’s helm / Flemet’s staff symbol.

Dumat’s Temple in DLC: Legacy 

During the DLC we find 4 items spread along the path we walk related to Dumat: A crown, a dagger, a scroll, and an urn

All of them are used in Dumat's temple, placed in the lowest part of the tower where you begin to rise to finally find Corypheus' prison

At the entrance there are green fire lamps, but no strange dragon-skull totems around.

On the Altar, we find four plates in front of the idol where the objects we previously found have to be placed. It’s not clear for me what’s that green stuff in them. Something rift-related? Fade-related? Its green is the same one than the lamps at the entrance. I always found strange that there are green-fire lamps in DA2: we find them around the tree in the alienage or in elf-related environments, like the ruins where Merril contacted the demon that helped her with the eluvian, or in the elven graveyard. So one is inclined to think this temple can have elven ties. 

Funny enough, the fire right beside the strange idol is of a normal yellow colour.  Is there any lore in this colour detail? Of is this just a mistake in the details since DA2 was rushed? Impossible to say.

When you place the items on these plates, flames bursts from them, and a reward is given [chain of the penitent], which gives us no extra information. If you defile the altar, instead of this reward, you will fight some shades, which gives us the idea that this idol is related to demons and/or blood magic, thinning the Veil around it [shades are usually the standard shape that demons take when enter the waking world without possessing living creatures].

If our original supposition was correct, and these statues are some kind of tool used by the elvenhan, how one of these idols ended up here? I would think that, since it’s related to Dumat, Tevinter co-opted them from the elves, confusing the statue with a true old god. The other possibility is that around this place we have an elven temple.  After all, Tresspasser DLC in DAI showed us that elves had Uthenera temples in the Deep Roads [more details in future posts]

In conclusion: I’m very inclined to think this strange idol is elven [Or even older than elvenhan] in origin and was taken by Tevinters to use it as a tool of their own or even claim it related to Dumat. As a detail, Dumat was the first Old God in awakening, unleashing the First Blight when the Grey Warden still did not exist.

The presence of this idol in DAI is covered in Western Approach: Old Chantry Trail Signs.

[Index page of Dragon Age Lore ]

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

Crashing | Jurdan Fake Hating One Shot

Written for: @poeticbrownmermaid​ for my 1k celebration!

Massive thank you to: @clockworkgraystairs​ and @sweetlyvillainous​ for beta reading this and holding my hand before I posted 🥺❤️

Summary: You’ve heard of fake dating. Get ready for fake hating. It’s all very romantic.

Rating: M/E for explicit language and a short, soft focus smut scene (a steam scene, if you will). The sexy parts start and stop after the ☽☽ in case you want to skip.

Masterlist

“You taste—” I’m cut off by my own giggle, which rises to my lips like my mouth is a glass and my laugh is the Champagne they’re serving at this dumb party. “You taste like bubblegum.”

Cardan looks at me funny, then snorts. “What?”

His eyes are beguiling when they’re amused. Even more beguiling when they’re amused and looking at me. They are dark intoxication. They compete against the night sky for vastness. I could swallow them whole.

We’re on the terrace under the stars outside his fancy-pants mansion. I’m sitting on the stone railing, my knees bracketing his lithe frame. His hands and lips are breathless effervescence on me.

I’m in a daring dress of red satin that I would’ve never chosen for myself had Oriana not insisted on finding us girls a tailor. It’s an elegant, backless number with an audacious slit up the side. The whole time before this in the ballroom, I could sense Cardan’s eyes eating it up while he pretended to hate me.

In this dress, I am a femme fatale spy from a film, meeting her tryst in the secret of shadows. Which is honestly not too far off from the reality of the situation, though I am no spy.

Cardan ghosts one hand up the exposed skin of my thigh. The night air is bracing as his touch.

“Jude,” he murmurs, “Are you drunk?”

He’s in a rakish black velvet suit with two blood-red rubies dangling from the pointed tips of his collar. It is decadence and sin given form. The first hour of this hell party was just that: Hell. By the time Cardan pressed a napkin into my palm with the words “Terrace. 10 min.” scrawled on it in smeared ink, I was beginning to glare at him in earnest—if only for the way he must’ve known he was teasing me.

Now, we’re making out behind two conveniently tall potted plants.

It’s all very romantic.

“I had one glass of wine, Cardan,” I say. I slide my hands from his hair and scrape my nails lightly down the column of his neck. It is heady, watching his eyes shutter. My hands slide down his chest and take up his lapels. I give them a firm tug. “I’m fine.”

“Well, I,” he says, lips hovering over my own, “Don’t believe you.” His breath fans across my face. It really does smell like bubblegum. And not the minty kind, either. I’m talking bright pink and bubblicious.

I lean back a little and stick my bottom lip out in a mock-pout. “Why not?”

“For starters,” he says, “You’re a lightweight.” He trails that damned hand down my exposed thigh again.

I shiver. “So? I also ate like twenty of those canopy things.”

“Canapés?” Cardan smirks.

“Yeah, whatever, Your Highness.”

He flashes me a grin and I’m briefly stricken into silence. “Then, what have you to say to your unprecedented giddiness this evening, Your Majesty?”

“Ew, don’t call me that.” I grimace. “I just called you ‘Your Highness’.”

“What? Scared of the implication?”

“Uh, yeah.” My brows shoot up on my forehead. “Mainly because it implies that I’m your mother.”

Cardan’s face goes slack. “Shit, really?”

I nod and bite back my grin.

“I thought they were interchangeable.”

“About as interchangeable as a fork and a spoon.”

He sputters a laugh. “Shows what I know about royalty.”

“You realise how ironic that is, don’t you?” I say, nodding pointedly in the direction of the party.

It goes on without us, spilling its mirth in great golden shafts out onto the terrace. It doesn’t touch us, though. The air is cool, clear of the preening bullshit that so regularly lathers these kinds of events. And though he makes me dizzy, Cardan is the only real thing here.

I think I like parties better this way. From the shadows. In there, we’d have to talk to people, explain ourselves. We’re supposed to hate each other. We were always supposed to hate each other.

A smile plays at the corners of Cardan’s lips as if he’s gleaned these thoughts of mine. “You haven’t answered my question.”

I narrow my eyes. “You think I’m too giddy to not be drunk.”

“Mhmm.” He nudges his nose against mine. “I’ve never heard you giggle before.” A slender finger tracks up my spine and it takes a considerable amount of concentration not to squeeze my thighs together. Goosebumps and a flush spring to my skin, anyway. “It’s delightful,” he tells me.

“Well, maybe you should work on your sense of humour.” My voice comes out shakier than I want it to.

“Maybe,” Cardan says, grabbing the back of my knee and hitching it up. “But that sounds like effort.”

I want to roll my eyes. This is exactly the reason we used to hate each other. His laziness, his arrogance, and entitlement made me want to punch him clean across his pretty cheekbones. I know my stubbornness and sharp tongue made him hate me right back.

Yet, when our worlds crumbled around us, we found ourselves crashing into each other. Entwined in a thicket of mutual understanding. Suddenly, there was so very little to hate.

We pretend to in public to keep up appearances. Everyone knows we hated each other. If we started being friendly around everyone else, people would talk. That’s the last thing we want. Even if they’d technically be right.

In private, though, Cardan is probably my most closely held secret.

Don’t get me wrong, he’s still annoying as all hell. Like right now. But I’ve always liked a challenge.

I hook my leg around his back, pulling him in. My fingers card through his hair again. “I can be delightful in other ways,” I say, biting my lip.

His eyes lower to my mouth. “Oh, I’m well aware.” Cardan’s voice comes out a rasp. He cants my chin with the crook of his finger, pulling my lip from between my teeth with the pad of his thumb. He looks at me with undiluted lust. The weight of his gaze is like a dizzying nightmare.

Then, he devours me.

Our mouths slide together, slowly at first, but building in fervor. Hot and heavy, like a fever. His grip on my thigh is bruising. His other hand splays across my bare back, crushing me to him, long fingers twining in my hair. Everything turns saturated and slow.

I invade his mouth with my tongue, determined to drink him up. He tastes like bubblegum and our reconciliation. At the same time, I hook my other leg behind him so he’s pressed flush against the apex of my thighs. ☽☽

A muffled groan rolls between his teeth. “Fuck, Jude.” Cardan is growing firm beneath his trousers. The feel of it sends a curl of sweet desire, dark and throbbing, through my core.

“You’re going to have to be quieter than that,” I tease. I’m so featherbrained on the savour of his mouth, his liquid touch. My veins feel full of amber liquor instead of blood. I know I’m not drunk, and yet I feel it.

His fingers drawl back up my leg. “The question is, dear,” he says, “Can you be quiet?” The coolness of his hands sends a shock along the heat of my inner thigh.

I realise where he’s going with this and my breath hitches. My cheeks blaze. “Yes,” I tell him, though I don’t sound as confident as I should for such a high stakes rendezvous.

“Hmm,” Cardan thrums. “We’ll see about that.”

His fingers are deft and twice as sly. He hisses through his teeth when they glide over me, exploring.

As a steady rain, he begins my unravelling. His mouth covers mine, swallowing a soft whimper that escapes my throat. I want to moan his name, to curse aloud, but I can’t if we’re to stay hidden.

The thought is both terrible and exciting at once.

Cardan keeps a torturous pace. I cling to him, panting, clutching at his arms, clawing at his back. His mouth roams my jawline. His teeth tug my ear. My mind is frenetic, frenzied, and at once thick in a viscous haze.

All I can think about is how this party is so stupid and soul-sucking, but Cardan is the farthest thing from stupid and soul-sucking. About how he makes me feel very much alive. About how I like him more than anyone here, probably more than even myself.

His other arm wraps certain and solid around me as he spins my world on its side. I lean my forehead on his shoulder. He kisses my neck. I can’t help the gasps that leave me.

My heart is racing. So quickly does it pump, in time with his ministrations, I think I might turn to white lightning in a bottle before all is said and done.

I know it when I’m drawing towards that precipice. My toes curl and flex. My legs begin to quiver. My knees lock up.

“Cardan,” I gasp. “Please.”

“Can you be quiet for me, Jude?” Cardan murmurs rough against my ear. He sounds a little breathless, too.

I am so muddled, I am so close. I can only manage a soft sob in response. Now he’s doubling his efforts and oh, gods is he clever.

I bite his shoulder to keep from making a sound as I shoot over the edge, a wondrous arc so high I’m sure I scrape the stars of their dust.

My hips writhe against his palm. I pull and rake my fingers through his hair as I spiral through the five stages of sweet delirium.

He holds me through it. Presses his lips to my hair and whispers what I think must be comforting things into my ear. I can’t tell because I’m incapable of comprehending much of anything beyond myself in his arms. He strokes soft circles over my back until it’s done. ☽☽

When everything settles, I’m still clinging to him, my forehead against the sureness of his shoulder. A sheen of sweat dewing my skin.

I’ve always hated this part about intimacy. The aftermath. Everything is too quiet. The excitement is gone. You’re faced with the reality of looking at each other without the rosy filter of lust. Maybe you’ll see each other for who you really are, and that’s a scary thought.

That’s probably how I felt once with Cardan, too. Back when we started…whatever this is. But now, in this moment with him, it feels less vulnerable and more like holding someone’s hand as you stare upon something a little terrifying.

Which is why I’m able to look up at him and ask in every manner of seriousness, “Why do you taste like bubblegum?”

His responding laugh is gentle and he shakes his head. “One-track mind,” he says. I shrug and wait.

“They’re serving bubblegum cocktails at the bar inside.”

My nose crinkles. “You actually drank one of those?”

“Don’t knock it till you try it.”

“No, I think I’ll sleep quite soundly if I never do.”

Cardan gives me an awful kind of grin that makes my toes curl anew. “Didn’t hear you complaining earlier.”

I bite the inside of my cheek. “That’s different.”

“Is it?” he says, then tucks a loose curl behind my ear. “I happen to like bubblegum cocktails.”

I give him a dubious look. I can’t help but feel that maybe we’re not talking about bubblegum cocktails anymore.

For a long moment, we just sit there staring at each other. There’s a bloom of laughter from inside the house. The clink of glasses. His eyes trace the lines of my face. I still feel drunk on him and he’s looking at me too soberly.

So I say, “You have shit taste, then,” and hop off the railing. I side-step him before beginning the task of smoothing down my dress. If I walk back into the party all flushed and disheveled, people will know what I’ve been doing—which is almost as bad as if people knew who I’ve been doing.

“Oh, you can’t say that dear,” Cardan lilts as he leans back against the balcony with all the insouciance of someone who lives in this ridiculous mansion. And rightly so, because he does. “Not when you taste equally delicious.” Then he brings his fingers, the ones that have just been inside me, to his mouth and closes his lips around them, burning gaze locked on mine.

My eyes go wide. My jaw slacks as I watch him. I’m somewhere between affronted by his audacity and completely turned on again. Which is a confusing place to be.

He laughs at my probably very foolish expression and I turn on my heel to head back to the party. I’m not actually offended. I just can’t bear to look at him while he’s tasting me off his fingers without combusting on the spot.

Cardan grabs my wrist. “Wait, wait,” he says, still laughing.

I arc a brow and turn to face him. “I’m waiting.”

“I’m sorry,” he says and sounds earnest enough. “It’s just… you make me giddy, too.”

His words are a punch to the gut. I hadn’t realised it until he said it, but it’s true. It’s not the way he kisses me or the high of a climax, though those are surely nice things, too. It’s the way I feel when we’re together. Just his presence makes my head swim, my stomach turn flips.

He makes me feel a little bit invincible, and entirely beyond reason.

I look at him, the warm glow of the party playing off the sharp angles of his face. He’s still holding my hand, fiddling with the ruby ring I always wear.

On the crest of a breath, Cardan says, “Stay tonight.”

“Why?” I whisper, because we’ve never spent the night. I’m not sure we’d even know how.

“Because I’ll miss you terribly?”

A smile tugs at my lips. “I think you’ll survive.”

“Because you’ll miss me terribly.”

“Oh, I’ll definitely survive,” I say. Even as my heart gives a squeeze. I don’t want to leave.

Not yet, not yet.

“Because you’re too intoxicated to drive home,” he says.

“I took an Uber here, Cardan,” I tell him. “And for the last time, I’m not drunk.”

“I’m not saying you’re drunk, Jude.”

He’s not grinning at me, which I think is a good sign. It means he’s not hinting at something sexual. Then again, that might also be a very bad sign. It means he’s hinting at something deeper. I’m not sure I want to get into that conversation just yet.

“Fine,” I say. I do want to stay. The thought of it sends a little thrill through me. “Hate me for an hour more. We’ll have a big argument about… something. And then I’ll tell Madoc I’m leaving.”

His hands snake around my waist. “What will we argue about tonight?”

I smile at him sweetly. “If your head is half as cunning as your fingers, I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

Cardan hums. “I do love it when we’re at each other’s throats.”

I roll my eyes but I’m betrayed by my laugh for not the first time tonight. Stupid punch-drunk feelings.

☽☽☽☽☽

Enjoyed this? Try:  King  |  Wicked Game  |  We’re All Mad Here

Masterlist

AN: So this was supposed to be a drabble for my 1k celebration but my hand slipped and whoops! It’s 2.5K words. I really hope you enjoyed this secret tryst one shot. I had so much fun writing it. If you liked this and want to see more from me, comments and/or reblogs are very much appreciated!

I have a tag list so if you’d like to be added to that, let me know in the comments/my messages/inbox and I’d be happy to add you! I also recently jumped on the Twitter/Instagram bandwagon. You can follow me @/rebelwriter23 on Twitter and @/slightlyrebelliouswriter23 on Instagram.

Back to the forest now. -Em 🖤💫

Title Inspo: Crashing- Illenium

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