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empresskylo · 1 year

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beneath the mask ✩ chapter 3 ⬅ch. 2

➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠CHAPTER TAGS | afab!reader. kinda mean!ghost. wc 2.5k. ➠AUTHOR'S NOTE | i do not have a tag list.

𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

the following week involved you being the only medic on base and having to treat every soldier on your own; briefing sessions with soap; a few awkward run-ins with ghost; and a shit load of anxiety.

you couldn’t get over the fact that you were about to walk side by side with the most dangerous men in the world on the most important mission you’ve ever been on. soap was acting like it was no big deal—they do this kind of stuff all the time, he had said. you had to remind soap that you were new to this division and weren’t exactly a skilled killer like the rest of the men. you were used to helping wounded men when they were carted back to base, not being in on the action.

“soap,” you whined as the larger man refused to let you take a break from your current training match. “i wasn’t built for this,” you said dramatically, collapsing on the mats beneath you.

soap chuckled, his hands resting on his hips. “i’m just tryin’ to prepare ya. ghost isn’t gonna go so easy on you.”

“ghost?” you asked, sitting upright–a bit faster than someone who wasn’t constantly thinking about their lieutenant would.

soap stuck a hand out and grabbed yours, heaving you up to stand before him again.

“ghost insisted on makin’ sure we all met his standards.”

you knew this was about you and gaz specifically, even if he didn’t say it. these men were already the best of the best, that's how they got recruited into this task force. but gaz being recently hurt, and you not coming from a combat background, was probably plaguing his thoughts.

“oh, wonderful,” you said sarcastically. you were almost positive soap was oblivious to your weird dynamic with ghost, but you couldn’t be one hundred percent certain; soap’s perceptiveness could surprise you sometimes.

you downed your water and stretched a bit more waiting for your imminent doom.

gaz approached you, his arm outstretched over his head.

“how’s your hand?” you asked him.

gaz released his stretch with a satisfied grunt and then held up his now unbandaged hand, smiling.

“and your ribs?”

“still a bit sore. just glad they’re not broken.”

you smiled. “just don’t go too hard training today, okay?”

gaz mock saluted you. “yes, doctor.” you rolled your eyes.

gaz had pulled you into a sparring match, trying to get your reflexes to actually function properly for when you’d be out in the field with the men.

you growled in frustration as gaz got another killing blow lined up.

“dead. again,” he said with a laugh.

“glad you find my suffering entertaining.”

you felt your body tense and you knew that ghost had just strolled into the training room. you had a weird way of sensing whenever he was around. it was like he made the air thicker of any room he walked in to.

you tried to keep your focus on gaz. he grabbed your hands and helped you adjust your hand wraps that were starting to loosen around your knuckles. your eyes flickered over gaz’s shoulder and you spotted him.

his eyes were already on you and you felt your blood pressure drastically rise. you immediately looked back to gaz and tried to pay attention to what he was saying to you.

“ready to go again?” he asked when he decided your hands were wrapped properly. you nodded.

after what felt like an eternity, ghost appeared beside the two of you, observing as gaz was in the process of showing you a new defense move.

gaz reached around you with his foot, knocking you off balance and sending you colliding with the mat.

“jesus,” you mumbled, both amazed and annoyed with him.

gaz chuckled and reached out a hand to help you up. you were impressed at his composed and collected attitude knowing what was about to happen in a few days' time. you, personally, couldn’t get your heart to stop racing worrying about everything that might go wrong.

you ignored ghost’s eyes on you as gaz tried to demonstrate the move he just did once again.

you attempted everything he showed you, repairing the order of the stances in your head as you executed each one, and you sent him flying on his back.

“shit, nice job,” gaz praised.

you helped him up when a looming presence from behind you startled you.

“oh!” you jumped, looking up at ghost who was only inches from your chest. “hi, lt.”

ghost was wearing one of his thinner balaclavas again, paired with a long-sleeved black shirt–that disappointingly didn’t have its sleeves rolled up to show off his tattoos–and dark tactical pants. he was a new level of intimidating without all his gear on. you felt like your body was going to melt from the heat he was putting off.

“she’s never gonna learn like that,” he grunted out, directly his words at gaz but holding your gaze.

you knew gaz was letting you knock him on his ass, but how else would you understand the basics of the moves he was teaching you? if he blocked you and went on defense every time you went to try, you wouldn’t be able to learn anything. gaz had years of training on you.

gaz mumbled something about taking a break and you began to panic. shit.

“open your legs,” ghost demanded.

a sudden blaze of heat raced up your chest and to your face. your eyes must have turned to moons because ghost’s foot jutted out to kick between your own and widen your stance as if to tell you to get your head out of the gutter.

you adjusted your feet and felt gaz slip off behind the two of you.

just you and ghost now. great.

“your waist feeling okay?” you asked, pointing towards the area of his wound from the week prior.

he nodded. “good as new.”

“good. that’s good,” you said awkwardly.

you both looked at one another, your cheeks warming, before ghost cut you out of your daydream. “arms should always be at the ready.”

you lifted your own and did as he said, mirroring him, and taking on a solid but readying posture.

“now, try to hook your leg behind my own.”

you nodded, the heat from earlier subsided just to be replaced with the rushing sound of your heart beating in your ear. you prayed ghost didn’t have super hearing, but you wouldn’t put it past him.

you dipped down slightly and tried to get your leg to wrap behind ghost’s, aiming to knock him backward.

before your foot even made it where you wanted it to go, ghost had spun you around and sent you stumbling back.

“again,” he demanded.

you took in a breath before approaching back up to him and going at it again.

he blocked your attack and you tripped over his feet and fell to the mat.

“again.”

you felt the sweat bead on your forehead, out of both anger and exertion.

and again he knocked you back.

“this isn’t going to help!” you finally said, a scowl on your face.

“don’t like bein’ pushed? think any of those men out there will give a damn about that? think they’ll give a shit that you’re just a medic?”

you let out an irritated breath. “i just don’t think training me like this will get me anywhere.”

“oh, and how would you like t’be trained then?”

you stared at him in silence.

“should i let you tackle me to t’ground?” his voice was deeper than earlier, sending shivers up your spine. “is catering to your ego that important you’d risk your life?”

“this has nothing to do with my ego.” your voice felt faint as you struggled to come up with an argument. you were frustrated, sure. but he was right in a way. any bad guy you cross out in the field isn’t going to give a shit that you’re a medic and not a trained soldier. and you did not want to fucking die.

“no? then go again.”

you brushed off your pants and readied your stance, going at him again. in an agile ebbed movement, you went flying to the ground. again.

you propped yourself up on your elbows and glared at him. frustrated beyond belief, and exhausted from already training for hours today. you did something you wouldn’t have normally done if you weren’t so peeved off. you sprung to your feet and rushed into him. ghost caught your hand but you spun around behind him, making him grunt as your foot collided with the back of his knee.

he bent forward and you jumped onto his back. he had to release your hand in fear of choking himself out. ghost was so caught off guard that he sank to his knees. you caught your breath, still clinging to him. you may not have got him to go all the way down, but still, you managed something.

“now if you’ll–” ghost cut your words short, shifting his weight so you slid sideways and he grabbed your waist and sent you sprawling out before him. before your back hit the mat, you grabbed his shirt, yanking him downward with you. his hands caught himself on either side of your head, his hips between your legs, his torso almost touching yours as you breathed heavily.

ghost’s eyes bore into yours as he loomed over you. heat rushed to your face as you felt his hips pressing against your own, trapping you below his impressive weight. your hands were still tied up in his shirt, your heart racing out of your chest.

“that hurt,” you mumbled.

“it was supposed to.” his voice was far softer than you’ve ever heard it before as if you stole the breath right from his chest. goosebumps immediately covered your arms and you hoped to the gods that he didn’t notice.

you were at a loss for words as he held his position. “now how will you get out of this, pet?” he provoked.

devoid of logic, you bucked your hips up against him, trying to wrangle your way free. ghost essentially growled above you, sending fluttering vibrations through your chest. you tried to roll out from under him, and if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought he let you. your positions quickly changed as you used all your muscles to turn him on his back. you straddled him, heaving again at the amount of force you had to exert to move his body.

your hands were resting on his chest and you felt your entire body go hot. there was no way you were straddling ghost, sitting right above his belt, your hands pressed flat against him, and his hands… his hands loose on your hips, edging towards your thighs.

in pure embarrassment you quickly stumbled off of him, not even offering to give him a hand to stand back up.

you thought for sure he would call it a day, probably irritated at you getting so close. those were definitely not proper techniques you executed back there.

to your surprise, ghost grunted, stood, and mumbled, “again.”

you couldn’t help the displeased groan that left your lips. “ghost, please. i’ve been doing this all morning.”

he didn’t like the way his chest tightened momentarily at the sound of you begging him.

he could see the exhaustion on your face. in a sort of compromise, he wanted one more spar. he slid the knife from his holster on his thigh and caught it expertly in his fingers. “unarm me,” he demanded.

you looked at him with hesitation. “if ya unarm me, y’can be done for the day. i won't even fight back.”

something painful echoed in your chest. you just wanted to get away from him. why was he dragging out your time together? he didn’t even like you. he should just tell price they couldn’t risk taking you along on the mission.

you mentally groaned and slowly stepped closer. ghost readied his stance.

you darted to the left and he deftly blocked you.

then you ducked down, coming up on the side he held the weapon and his arm stopped yours. you grunted before slipping around him and shoving him back. he stumbled a few steps and you dodged his arms.

ghost spun to meet you, grabbing your wrist with his free hand, both of you stumbling so your back collided with the wall.

with heavy breaths, ghost pinned your arm beside your head. your other hand struggled, but you managed to grip his knife and fling it out of his hand, sending it rattling on the hard floor away from you two.

ghost’s hips were almost against yours, his body trapping you against the wall. your head clouded with so many unwanted thoughts about his chest pressed against your own. the way his body traced yours like a phantom.

“next time, try to hold on to the weapon you disarm. because now, you’re defenseless. and hate to break it to ya, but you against any man of my size, unarmed… you’re dead.”

your mouth hung open slightly as you caught your breath. you could feel ghost’s ungloved hands lingering by your waist. you nodded, unable to speak as you felt his fingers fluttering against your skin where your shirt began to ride up. it was almost like he was purposefully trying to touch you.

your eyes flickered down to where his hands were and ghost immediately backed away. he gave you one look over and went to pick up his knife.

“enough for today,” he grumbled, a tensing sense of aggravation filling the air.

you straightened your clothes out, walking back onto the mat. “so that’s it?”

ghost turned in a way that made it look like he was forcing his body to move. “need me t’tell you how good of a job you did? pat you on your back and tell ya you’re gonna be fine next week?”

you glared at him. “no. i just–”

“you won’t. you’re gonna get yourself killed out there.” you sucked in a sharp breath at his words. you watched as his eyes avoided your own. “be back here tomorrow to train more with soap.”

you nodded even though he wasn’t looking at you. he hesitated another moment, almost like he was debating on saying something else, but then he turned and left you alone.

you sank down onto the mat, sprawling out backward and breathing deeply. your body was sore and throbbing from all the collisions you took today.

fuck. you had one chance to prove to ghost you were capable. that price trusting you to come along was the right choice. but you just made a fool of yourself. and ghost thought you nothing more than a weak link in their unit. you were going to get them all killed.

you closed your eyes, a tear sliding down your sweat-stained cheeks.

chapter 4 ➡

#ghost #simon riley #smut #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod #ghost fanfic #simon riley fanfic #ghost call of duty #ghost angst #cod mw2 #cod fic #call of duty fanfic #mw2 fanfic #beneath the mask

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frattweek · 30 days

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This blog is happy to announce… FRATT WEEK 7 !

From October 28 to November 3, this blog is hosting an entire week about Matt Murdock and / or Frank Castle, but their exact relationship is up to you - lovers, fuckbuddies, enemies, friends, partners… you pick! You can also do a Matt-only or a Frank-only work. OT+ (Fratt+) welcome!

All versions of Frank Castle & Matt Murdock are welcome: comics, TV shows, movies… All lengths and sizes, all types of fanworks welcome: fic, art, fibercraft, translation, podfic (don't forget to check in with the original creator if you're podficcing/translating!)... or a new chapter of a fic, an outtake from a series...

Halloween is also right in the middle of FW 7 so if you're in the mood for a little spook... feel free to add bats, spiderwebs, or ghosts to all your Fratt content!

Each day comes with a theme: Monday 28: Blood Tuesday 29: Bar Wednesday 30: Trust Thursday 31/Halloween: Spirit Friday 1: Pray / Prayer Saturday 2: Bag Sunday 3: Free topic / Amnesty day if you couldn't post before!

You can participate as much or little as you want, it’s all up to you!

If you create art / graphic works, a description for accessibility purposes would be much appreciated.

Don’t forget you can already post in the dedicated AO3 collection earlier - one month before the start of the event, the collection will be set so that all new works are invisible! All newly posted works will be revealed on Fratt Week, so you can start as early as you’d like ^_^

On Tumblr, just @frattweek us and #frattweek in the first five tags :-) More info in the FAQ (open the link in a browser!) and if you can’t find your answer, send an ask or leave a message on DW!

Banner art by @nkeiiin

Detailed ID under the cut, as well as extra ideas for the prompts!

Digital art of Matt Murdock and Frank Castle stand back to back on the left of a dark red grid background. Matt is in his red daredevil suit, hanging upside down and his head resting on Frank's right shoulder. Frank is angry frowning and looking up. Two white lines form a tilted X are on the right side of the art. The text on top of the line is "Fratt Week 7 28th Oct - 3rd Nov", the text at the bottom of the line is "Frattweek.tumblr.com"

1/ Blood -- bleeding, family, kin, clan, spill, martyr, thicker than water, vampire, fake, communion… 2/ Bar -- drinking establishment, bar exam, disbarred, rebar (construction worker!Frank, anyone?), ka-bar knife, to bar someone from something, things going fubar... 3/ Trust -- trust fund, to trust, trust in god, mistrust, trusty (gun, fist, baton, friend/partner…) 4/ Spirit -- ghost, alcohol, spiritual, spiritism, spirited, sprite... 5/ Pray / Prayer: religion, Madonna (Like A Prayer;-), misheard prey... 6/ Bag -- under the eyes, heavy bag, grocery bag, to bag (a criminal?), baggy (clothes?), gym bag, duffle bag, bag over the head, bodybag, bagged a criminal…

#fratt #frank castle #daredevil #the punisher #matt murdock #punisher #marvel #matt/frank #frattweek7

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pursuitseternal · 9 months

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“Possessing:” jealous, possessive Astarion in a double smut update for “Our Blood is Thicker,” featuring a first-time flashback 💞

Astarion x Cordehlia (F!OC) | E | 8.7 K possessive and first time smut

Summary: the Shadow-Cursed lands resurrect more for Cordehlia than an old enemy— more memories and griefs that Astarion can’t recall. If only there was some way to show Astarion their past… memories that kindle the same possessive desires of the past and new professions of… love in the present.

CW: angst, longing, jealousy, possessive Astarion, Kind Uncle Vibes Halsin, arrogant young Astarion, first time hand job, first time fingering, teenage sneaking for sex, inappropriate tadpole use if you squint, absolute feral rutting once the memory is done.

Previous Chapter | AO3 | Masterlist

Chapter 10: Possessing

🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️

Astarion could feel the rage building in his love, shuddering with tension off their leader. They all could. Waves of scarlet temper fluctuating as the Drow inside Moonrise Towers insisted on talking despite Cordehlia’s death stare… insisting on talking with Astarion. This Araj… as she introduced herself with the overconfidence of youth and privilege.

Cordehlia hated her already for both. And more.

Her companions held their breath, watching for those quick and deadly fingers of hers to reach for that shining dagger. And they all wanted to close their eyes the moment they heard the Drow, some expert in blood magic and potions, slather her attentions on The Spawn who pressed at Cordehlia’s side. “I’ve always dreamed of being bitten…”

“Uh oh,” Wyll bemoaned under his breath, taking the opportunity to grab at the she-elf’s elbow and whisper in her pointed ear while the Drow was busy making all her intentions known to Astarion. “Have care, for as much as you would like to run the monster throgh, it would not make things easy for us. Unless you wish to face Ketheric from the inside of a cell…”

“Or dead,” Gale added in her other ear.

Cordehlia gave a single, unwilling nod, rolling her shoulders and crossing her arms. Just as the expert in all things sanguine returned her dark eyes on the rest of them. “Can’t you talk some sense into your charge?”

Cordehlia’s fiery eyebrows raised slowly at that. “My charge?” she spoke between pressed lips. A wave of rebuke held back barely by their need to remain inconspicuous. “My vampire is his own being, he can choose who he bites, who he fucks, whom he loves, who he kills…”

“I’m sure he truly believes that,” the Drow laughed. Disparaging.

“Want a demonstration?” Cordehlia added quickly, a single corner of her mouth turning towards a smile.

“It’s alright, darling,” Astarion turned to meet her stare, caught somewhere between aroused and intimidated himself as it turned to lock those narrowed, hungry, enraged eyes on him.

“Oh, oh I see,” Araj gave a disparaging laugh. “You think he’s yours. All yours. I promise, I’ll leave your lover’s lower regions untouched, I only want a bite. In exchange, I’ll give you a potion so great, you’ll never find another like it in the realms…”

“I’ll thank you to never mention my lower regions again,” Astarion hissed.

“And he said no to you,” Cordehlia snapped, closing one step between her enemy and her beloved. “You can keep clear of us, Drow, of me, my companions, and my vampire. What need do we have of watered down power like blood potions when we have the blessing of the Absolute. I wonder why they keep you here at all.”

That made everyone behind her stiffen, every set of eyes scanning for enemies. Just in case.

But Araj laughed. “Fine, linger in your ignorance with your lover. Savor it while your bodies still haven’t burst into a mess of tentacles. See how romantic your nights of coupling are then… True Soul…”

Three sets of hands pressed against Cordehlia’s back then, but only one pulled her into his arm, tugging her along and back into the halls of Moonrise Towers. “Gods,” Astarion scolded her gently right into her ear as they paused on the outer walls of the tower, “your jealousy nearly got us all killed.”

Was he… angry?

She snapped her neck, turning to scowl right into his face. But that raging expression melted the moment she looked into his. He was so soft, so adoring, head tilted slightly as those crimson eyes widened and brushed over her face.

Until they rested on her lips, pursed tightly.

“That pleases you?” she managed to rasp as her tempers cooled.

“To hear you might just risk bringing the whole army of the Absolute down on us because some other female is pining for me to take a bite?” he smirked wickedly, completely possessive and naughty as his eyes looked to her neck. “And they say romance is dead, darling…”

Just as his palm cupped her cheek, tilting her face so close to his, her warm breath filled his undead lungs and coated his tongue with her taste… Gale cleared his throat.

Loudly. Distracting. Intentionally.

“Need I remind everyone that we stand literally on the precipice of the Absolute’s power? That Ketheric Thorm and his army are literally everywhere…”

“And all you two want to do is fuck,” Karlach burst in with a laugh. “I mean, it’s not a bad plan, it’s just not a plan to take down our enemies, soldier.”

Cordehlia rolled her eyes, gripping the back of his neck in her gauntleted hands. Unable to deny herself just a quick kiss, even at the heart of their enemy’s domain. “Fine,” she sighed. “We find the secret to bringing down this… General, but if anyone comes to try to take any of you from me,” she tapped a finger on Astarion’s perfect, aquiline nose, “especially you… they will find it very hard to think with a dagger buried in their skull.”

“Again, such poetry, such romance,” her vampire purred, his arms struggling to release her. Not that he wanted to either.

They made their way back inside the Tower, and thoughts swirled in Cordehlia’s head, the haze of memories beginning to pierce through that constant blanket of lust Astarion seemed to draw about her at all times.

“Right,” she huffed under her breath. “Let’s go find this imposter who calls himself the General….”

“Imposter?” a deep voice rumbled quietly as Halsin turned around. “How do you mean?”

Cordehlia stopped, the others continuing a few paces ahead. “Ketheric is dead, weren’t you there? Did you not fight in vain glory for his defeat alongside Harpers and Druids and Elves? Did you not see the countless souls sacrificed to put that monster in a tomb?”

“I did,” his pale green eyes scanned her face with all the wisdom and insight three-hundred years lends. “You speak as one who knows of such things yourself, young one.”

Cordehlia’s mouth shut tight. Locking her lips in silence, keeping whatever it was that simmered behind her silver eyes within her.

“I may have joined your band to help break this curse that darkens the land, but make no mistake,” he paused before turning to follow, “I will help do whatever is necessary. But to do so, I need to know more than I can read on your own wizened face.”

She shrugged, pushing past the enormous Druid to rejoin the others. “In good time, perhaps…”

But her words dried up the second she stood on the edge of the gathering in the throne room.

He was there. In flesh. Ancient, grey, undead flesh.

Ketheric Thorm, half-elf, great general, and dead no longer.

Cordehlia heard nothing as she watched with frozen horror the scene before her unblinking eyes. An ax, launched from the hand of some goblin about to be punished for their failure, sliced right into the General’s armor. His great, gauntleted hand pulled it free, as if it were no more than a dull knife in butter.

Immortal. Just as they all had said… back from the dead…

And as she tried to steel over her face and steady her nerves, she forced more of those shadows from her past deep down inside her. They would have to be ignored. For now.

It wasn’t until they were back on the shadow-cursed trails, sent to find the mysterious relic that granted the immortal Ketheric Thorm his power, that Cordehlia finally felt her tenuous hold on reality and on her past begin to slip.

It was a century ago… a lifetime ago, a time when she wandered between losing the love of her life and falling under the spell of bloodlust the Bone Picker loved. Before she found herself totally alone. Not-quite widowed, but decidedly orphaned.

And now, her feet traced the same paths and vaulting roots from dying trees he must have…

Her father.

She kept herself busy, hurrying at the front of the group as they moved headlong into the dark and cursed forest.

“We really should make camp,” Shadowheart commented, “there are many dangers ahead, and we wouldn’t wait to face those exhausted.”

“A wise idea,” Halsin affirmed. “We can get a new start with the dawn… or,” he grinned a bit sheepishly, looking at the lands cursed to eternal darkness, “…if not dawn, at least when we are all rested.”

A few laughs sounded from the group as they headed for safer ground. But not Astarion. And not Cordehlia. She gave that smile that didn’t meet her eyes, holding her shoulders slumped down as if she carried that massive, invisible weight. He could almost feel it himself, just by looking at her. Slowly, he drew nearer, falling within earshot. Within arms reach, should she need him.

But she kept her attention on the Druid, locked in as they headed up the path. “Halsin…” she added, voice shaking just a bit, “you… fought to bring Ketheric down… the first time I mean?”

“Giving up your claim of being an imposter?” the Druid teased, instantly regretting the jovial tone as he saw the lines of her face. As he read her pain. “What troubles you?”

Cordehlia glanced beside her, face easing to find Astarion at her side. First in her heart. Always at her side. “These… ruined battlefields, where so many lives were lost, you’ve been here, Halsin. Tell me, did you fight beside the elven hosts?”

Halsin stopped short. That weight in her voice flooded with knowledge. He froze, nearly mid-step. “I thought you looked familiar…” he commented, almost to himself, eyes scanning the she-elf.

“Why?” Astarion interjected, curious if not a tad bit defensive at the familiarity.

“Of course, Star Elf, red hair that shock of brightness. A temper to defy the gods. You’re the daughter of General Aquilae, aren’t you? You’re just as ferocious in battle, just as passionate and hot-tempered.” The Druid tilted his head, starting to walk again. “I am… sorry for your loss. Sorry his sacrifice must feel like it's in vain with Ketheric back from the dead…”

“Don’t assume to know how I feel,” Cordehlia snapped, chin jutting up, barely meeting the large male’s chest-height. But fierce in demeanor. “Sorry,” she relinquished, that defiance instantly retreating back inside her carefully crafted shell.

“Quite alright. You’re in pain, grieving. But even grief heals, all things heal. Nature will heal, as hearts will too,” Halsin grinned gently, “but it takes time and… many ways of seeking solace…”

Astarion couldn’t fight the way his eyes tweaked in suspicion, hackles raising at the informality. As long as it was his tent that her solace was sought for…

“Aquilae…” Astarion let the name roll off his tongue. Something inside his mind thawing, something creeping into the light. “Is that… your name?”

What normally would have made a tender smile come to her full, pink lips made them scowl instead. “For once… for once, it would be a boon to have you either remember your past, or not ask such obvious questions.” She bit at every word. Her shoulders squared at him, armored and taught.

Those crimson eyes narrowed at her, his mouth hardened into a flat line. An exterior of equal adamant to resist her anger. And to hide his hurt.

“Well, darling,” he shook his head quickly, derisively. “I apologize for my shortcomings,” his gaze darted to the Druid who still lumbered beside her. “And I’ll leave you two to… reminisce correctly, then.” The vampire pushed his way between them, heading for the bustling group as they hurriedly and anxious made a small camp, setting magic wards and torches against the Shadows.

Cordehlia’s heart sank, her stomach knotted, making her want to puke right there and then on cursed grounds, watching him stride from her so quickly.

That exterior of injured pride, that mask of indifference hiding his own pain. Pain she caused. Pain flowed from her own.

Halsin cleared his throat softly. “He means a great deal to you, the Elf. The others gossip about your past constantly. Your Wizard, in particular, seems rather… put out that Astarion has meant so much to you,” the Druid sat himself down on a log, the wood creaking beneath his sheer mass.

But Cordehlia was too uncomfortable to do anything more than sway in place as her eyes darted between her Druid and the rest of her party. Not as if she were watching for every pissed-off dart of her silver-haired vampire in the mix.

“I… believe I know your history, or at least as much of it as the rest do…”

She scoffed, fingers beginning to unbuckle her armor methodically, absentmindedly. “More than he probably recalls,” she huffed under her breath. “If only… things were easier. Not just the tadpole and the Absolute… but with him.”

“Nature does not have regrets, young elf, only growth,” he smiled slightly, his scarred face turning with that wise happiness. “Besides, for as much as you resemble your father, the General…”

“He still seems like the pampered, arrogant, devastatingly handsome son of our High Lord and Lady?” she sniffed, suddenly feeling the warm pull of those years, however ancient they may be.

“I suspected as much. Your father only ever spoke to us briefly, to the point, not unlike his formidable daughter when she feels the need…”

That made Cordehlia grin softly once more.

“He had said once, on the eve of battle, he regretted risking his daughter to lose another… that you had already lost so much of your heart, an engagement to the next High Lord ending in tragedy.”

Halsin paused, turning to follow her own sharp, unerring gaze into the mess of companions. Watching as her eyes followed her lover through the crowd, her whole being growing heavier with grief each second that passed.

He let her breathe in silence a moment, waiting for her to speak. At last, something seemed to ease within her. “He was my everything, Halsin. My childhood playmate, my first kiss, my… first of many things…” Her voice was steady, aching with grief and joy mixed into one weighty tone. “He defied his parents to ask for my hand, well… his weakness for planning ahead worked that once, for as much… shame as it could have brought on us both. But I didn’t care. I had him.”

“The son of the High Lord and the daughter of the General must not have been such a match to frown upon,” Halsin sounded.. wistful. Cordehlia wasn’t sure. But she turned to look anyway. “At least now, for whatever darkness you both have endured, you share in one another’s burdens. But you can’t fault him for how he has… survived his pain by pushing down his memories. They will return, in time, as all things…”

“In nature heal,” Cordehlia finished with a laugh. “You’re rather predictable, Druid.”

“Three-hundred and fifty years, and you learn the value of consistency, young one,” he laughed, standing from the log. “Now, we better return before your vampire’s jealousy turns its hungry attention on me as a threat.”

Cordelia gathered the plates of her armor she had removed, walking them towards camp. And then she paused. Cursing.

Of course… as it had been of late, since that night in the Emerald Grove, all her things were in… his tent. Her stomach sank. She… wasn’t ready to face him yet. Wasn’t ready for his chilled anger or his glare of simmering rage, or his little frown of hurt.

But she swallowed her dread and headed towards that stretched structure of red and rose fabric.

It was already so dark, just the flickers of torchlight dancing to show her the way. Pausing, her hand hesitated before it pulled back the flap so she could enter. Cordehlia swallowed, why was she so nervous, he night not even be inside. Might be out hunting… or helping… or…

Before any other thought could make her hesitate longer, a pale hand shot out at her from within, wrapping its cold, undead touch around her wrist, and dragged her inside his darkened domain.

His tent was blacker than pitch. Even for her elf-eyes, it took her a moment to adjust her sights. But she could feel him around her, grabbing her from behind, hand around her chin, arm clutched around her waist, as he pulled her within.

“I didn’t think you’d come, darling…” his voice chilled her marrow, all the jealousy she had imagined inside him biting his words. “Thought you’d be too busy strolling down memory lane with someone who could walk with you…” his lips pushed against the edge of her ear, nipping it with his fangs, “just as you’ve always wanted…”

“You know what I want…” she murmured, arching against the confines of his body.

“Hmmm,” he taunted, and she could feel his breath trailing down her neck. “I thought I did… I’m surprised that you’re here, not indulging in some time with your warm-blooded companion who knows you… and most likely wants to… know you.” His mouth sucked on her ear, “carnally, to be clear.”

“Tch, tch,” she forced her body to twist in his hold, landing the point of her elbow in his gut to make his grip ease. Savoring the little grunted “oof” he made. “Don’t think so low of yourself, my love,” she breathed, scanning the way his face twitched between suspicion and arousal. “As if I could take anyone else, now that I have you back with me at last…”

She meant it, every word. Those eyes soft with sincerity, those lips already slightly puckered to invite him closer.

But he still had too much jealousy gripping his undead heart, too much ice flowing in his veins yet. “You’d rather have someone remember, I know, someone who knew your name, your father, someone who recognizes the family resemblance of your temper to match your hair… someone who can match the… intimacy you seek with your memories in the same way they might with your delicious body.” He pouted, those full lips of his frowning in taunting disapproval. “If only there was some way for us to share thoughts and memories, mind to mind…” he turned to give her the full power of his gaze then, and it made her lose her breath with his beauty, his intensity. That rakish cant of his brows and the haze of hunger in his eyes.

Her brows raised slowly, her smile spreading. “What are you suggesting, Astarion?”

He let his fangs show, his hands gripped into the soft flesh of her upper arms. “Show me, show me everything. Use the parasite, link your mind to mine, for I’ll be damned if anyone…” he growled with a snap of his jaw, “anyone lays a claim to you more than me.”

“Why, Master Ancunìn,” she smirked, running the pads of her fingers down that sharp cut of his jaw, “jealousy does rather become you.”

He stiffened beneath his touch, the muscles of his jaw tweaking as he clenched.

“You’re… not just jealous, are you?”

His eyes cast to the side. Just enough hint of remorse, of regret and longing softened his face.

“I… can’t explain it,” he whispered, almost sounding frightened to let the words out. “All I have known for so long is to manipulate, to do as I was commanded, to use my body and bury my mind, my feelings so far down, I… forgot what it was to think or feel for myself.”

His hands began to wander, to stroke her smooth skin and taught muscles beneath her shirt.

“And then, I found you, or rather, you found me. You forced me to confront those parts of me I neglected in order to survive. You made me rediscover what it meant to want a person…to want anything for myself. Like how you almost tore the throat of that vile Drow today, just for assuming you could compel me to bite her fetid flesh.”

He breathed, that jealousy still crept close by, his fingers insistent on her flesh, even with all the vulnerability that flooded his voice.

“I… should say thank you, my darling, but I would rather show you my gratitude. Rather stand at your side as equals, knowing everything that makes you… you.”

“That makes us… us,” she added, a smile soft on her lips. Her hand held his, pulling him down along with her, sitting on the mess of his blankets and pillows he called a bed. Before he could even settle completely, she crawled in his lap, wrapping her legs around his waist, cradling his cheek in her palm. His eyes bore into hers, the intensity, the possessiveness, the curiosity burning bright in the deep red of his eyes. “What would you wish to see?” she asked softly.

“Show me your father, show me you… show me our first moments, our sweetest moments, our most sensual, our most painful,” he rasped, brows furrowed with his ardor. “I want to recall… everything…”

She paused for a breath, eyes closing as if she searched those memories. Finally, her silver eyes opened, her gaze was languid, distant, and desirous. “Open yourself to me,” she whispered so close to his own parted lips.

A single brow arched in humor, “That's my line, darling…”

Before she could tease him or roll her eyes, their minds smashed into one another, their tadpoles humming as the world around them instantly disappeared….

———

“What do you have to say for yourself, lordling?” General Aquilae stared at him with those piercing dark eyes. Sharp like the eagle, the bird of prey after which he was named. “Son of the High Lord, caught watching our daughter bathing, you know there will be repercussions even your parents can’t pull enough strings to free you from…” The warrior’s voice rumbled like thunder, towering over where the young elf male stood in his study.

But Astarion gave no ground, arms crossed over the pale green of his tunic, the golden threads of its intricate embroidery catching the firelight as night began to fall. His sharp features smiled slightly, his deep violet eyes dancing as he watched the warrior pacing back and forth, that silver shock of hair barely tamed, same as he was as a youth, barely more tamed than the willful elfing that ran about with his daughter.

And now… now they would be inseparable. They had to be.

“You know what you have done has sealed Cordehlia’s fate as much as your own, little lord?” the general added. His voice sharp, direct.

“I would hope so, Commander,” Astarion purred in reply, “I thought my affections for your daughter were on… full display this afternoon.”

General Aquilae pressed his thick fingers into his temples, rubbing them as if to ease a headache. “You know, Astarion, most young males court their intendeds with letters or poems or art or song… not their cock in their hand as they watch them bathing.”

Astarion shrugged, coolly and casually. “I have never been like most young males, Commander. You have always known that, as loyal friend of my parents, their faithful General…”

“You can leave your parents out of this, boy,” the general straightened. “What will you do to make this right by Cordehlia? Leave her to the shame you’ve inflicted? To the gossip and the ostracization of her peers?”

“I intend to make her mine, General,” he replied. Steadily, those hard, smirking lines of his face easing as his smile dropped.

The commander turned to round one more time across his study, his boots falling harshly against the wooden planks of the floor. Until he drew up short. “It’s close, but you need to be clear, Ancunìn. You’ll make her your what? Mistress, whore…”

“Bride.”

It was a simple word. Uttered so clearly, so matter-of-factly, all ears that heard it frozen.

Her father. And Cordehlia. The sneaky she-elf who peered through the smallest chink in the wall, who held her breath to hear two men discussing her future. But at that word, her heart soared, scared, excited, terrified and… something else she didn’t know. Something that stabbed her like a hot poker in the gut and flooded her abdomen with heat. She could see Astarion’s face perfectly from here; he looked so regal, so confident. So happy. Especially at making her father draw up short and stop, at a loss for words.

“Well, General?” Astarion grinned, smiling so self-assured, so cocky, “do you need me to repeat, sir?”

“No,” the older elf cleared his throat loudly and repeatedly. “Thank you.”

Astarion bowed his silver-tousled head. “If that is set arights, then perhaps I can break the happy news to my intended myself?”

“Firstly,” General Aquilae raised a single thick digit at the boy, “I will set you straight on this point, lordling. You are both far too young by the rights of our people to marry. Prepare yourselves for a long engagement, one where you had better show her nothing but the respect and devotion befitting a female of our status…” he narrowed his large silver eyes down at the boy, “even if it is still beneath your own, Master Acunìn.”

Astarion flashed a bright smile, a deferential bow of his head and shoulders, hand placed graciously over his heart. “On my honor,” he crooned, magnanimous in tone. Just like his parents. “The lady and I will wait for years, for decades, if that is your sage guidance.”

“Not decades, no,” he sniffed in rejoinder. “Don’t be so grandiose, boy. Five years hence at most until you may wed, unless any unexpected, little… surprises… come up in the meantime…”

Violet eyes wide, Astarion remained still at the implication. He swallowed hard, much to her father’s satisfaction. “Yes, General,” he murmured in reply. The meaning was clear enough.

General Aquilae almost laughed at the submission, the immediate effect of discomfort that smacked the boy across his pristine, handsome, and youthful face. It would be enough to scare the boy into caution for the time being. And that would be enough for now. “Allow me to fetch your intended, then.” He crossed towards the door, but paused when the boy gave that signature boisterous giggle.

“No need,” he giggled again. “Cordehlia already has her ear pressed to the wall, eyes peering through keyholes, I shouldn’t wonder…”

That violet, glinting gaze looked right at her… where she had one eye locked through the crack in the wall. A smile dancing on his thick, parted lips.

Quickly, she moved and held her breath, flouncing her gown and making her way as if she were simply strolling by the study door, a little book in hand as if she were lost in reading. Her father threw open the dark wooden door. “Daughter,” he ordered. No other words needed. His lined brow furrowed to see her, in fact, so close to his study.

“Yes, Father?” she lilted, tucking the book neatly against her chest as she folded her arms. “Is… is there something the matter?”

“I’ll let you find out for yourself,” he replied, walking out the door, “but no, nothing the matter.” His rough hand caught his daughter’s fingers from her book, giving them a tender squeeze before he left them to it.

Her heart raced, slowly turning to face that smirking youth in her father’s study. The one who went toe to toe with her father, and lived to tell the tale.

“Astarion,” she beamed, open and exuberant to see him against her better judgment to be coy. “It is late, you know.”

“No better time for a man to call upon his beloved, his intended…” he grinned, all feline and subtle, striding to shut the door behind her. “I don’t need to regale you with all the negotiations do I? You were listening ever so intently from your little hiding spot, weren’t you?”

“Of course,” she smiled, taking a few steps away from where he felt so close to her. Crossing, she sat on the little couch near the fire. And she regretted it the instant he sat immediately beside her. “I… I suppose I should thank…”

“Don’t,” he interjected. “Tch,” he sucked his teeth, a habit of his when teasing her lately, “I told you I would get what I wanted, Cordehlia.”

“And, what was that?” she forced her face into a blank, innocent expression. Wide-eyed and pouting, hiding the laughter that bubbled inside.

“You,” he slowly seemed to lean in. “Despite my parents’ plans for a marriage alliance… despite your father’s hesitations…” his eyes cast down the front of her down, scanning the intricate weave of laces and ribbons that held her in, even as her chest heaved with panting and her bosoms threatened to spill out the top. “Despite even your own thoughts of self-inadequacy…”

“Oh, I do not doubt my own measure, Astarion,” she chided in reply, “I doubt that I will be enough to satisfy you and your… ambitions.”

“Wanting great things out of life means nothing if I can’t share it with you, my…” he whispered, that edge of pretend leaving his silken voice. A single finger pressed under her chin, feeling her throat swallowing and her jaw bobbing as she nervously met his gaze. “Hmmm, what shall I call you now?” he grinned. “My friend seems too unromantic. My intended, my betrothed… those seem so cumbersome.”

“Something simple, sweet and flirtatious,” she smiled, leaning into the heat of his touch, more of his fingers beginning to sweep over her cheek. “Nothing too saccharine… just a little something… darling…”

“Oh,” he gave that secretive half smile of his, “aren’t you just darling? So sweet and yet deceptively strong… that hint of irony behind it.. yes. Yes, it’ll do nicely, darling…”

Her eyes darted away, feeling so hot, cheeks flushed and burning, his hand still holding her face. But that heat swirled in her gut, her mind still reeling over the events of that day, and while her skin was clean from bathing, her mind had turned to only images and questions that were so, very dirty. “So…” she paused, feeling his face drawing nearer, his breath washing over her. “What was it you were caught doing exactly?”

Astarion’s eyes flashed, wide and dilating as he stared at that impertinent grin. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean… I wish to know… what… you were doing while you watched me,” her voice grew quieter, deeper in her throat the more she spoke.

“I was… pleasuring myself,” he managed to say, watching her cheeks growing pinker and pinker.

“Show me,” she whispered. Her chin jutted out in that over-confident way of hers.

Astarion cocked his head, a single corner of his lip curving slightly. “What?” he drolled.

“Show me… what you were doing…” she whispered, eyeing the door shut beside them, pure mischief in her silver eyes. “Show me, please…”

“I do so like it when you ask so sweetly,” he raised his brow, grinning widely as he leaned towards her breathtaking face. “So refined and smoothed over your edges, and yet…” His fingers pressed on her chin, tilting her upwards and drawing her close to his lips, “I still see that willful, feral playmate of mine who never once treated me like the son of the High Lord…”

“Quit your stalling, Acunìn,” she snapped, smiling all the while. Her body was pulsing, hotter than the fire before them should have made her. Her skin grew tighter the more he touched her.

“I can show you,” he whispered, smirking as his eyes darted towards the door. “But I’ll not do it in your father’s domain. Not when I’ve just garnered his dissenting approval.”

Her breath grew heavy, her dress suddenly too tight. “Where… when…?”

“It’s your home, darling. Can’t you think of someplace quiet… someplace intimate…”

“The gardens,” she couldn’t reply quickly enough. “I can slip from my terrace, if you meet me.”

“Then I shall be there,” his voice was thick, his lips brushing hers as he spoke. It made her stomach knotted and fluttery. Made her skin burning and her blood pounding. Whatever it was she was about to learn, she could barely wait the few moments it would be to sneak away.

Then he kissed her, more than just the little pecks as children. More than the courtly press of his mouth on her gentle fingers. He spared her nothing, for she knew full well already the twist of his tongue around her own, the sucking of his lips and the clack of his teeth against hers. But this kiss, this devoured her. Sucked her breath and filled her tastebuds with him alone. Until she forgot to so much as breathe.

A loud footstep outside the door made them suddenly draw apart, the turn of the handle making Astarion shoot right up from the couch to stand coolly at the mantle, a chilled, contented smile on his lips as her father returned.

As if those lips weren’t just consuming his daughter.

“It’s late, Master Acunìn,” the General commented, always direct, always commanding.

“Yes, well, there will be many years ahead of us for goodnight and goodbyes, isn’t that right, my darling?” the young elf nodded his head to his future bride. Who, very wisely, kept her flushing face away from the sight of her father.

“Yes, Astarion,” she replied, all joy and music in those two words. “Goodnight to you both,” she stood to dip a curtsy. “I am ever so pleased with our arrangement,” she added, smiling as she made her way from the room.

“As am I,” Astarion replied, locking eyes with the General. “Goodnight, my future bride and father. I can see myself out.”

“So long as you don’t see yourself back in, boy,” her father laughed under his breath. A cold sort of laugh, wisened by experience past the machinations of youth. “You have years for that. The blink of an eye for our kind.”

Astarion nodded his head, eyes still fixed on his exit. Careful not to give away the racing of his heart in anticipation. Gratified that his instincts were sharper than the General, the aging elf whose eyes he could feel until the moment he shut the door to their home behind him.

It would be an easy deception, to head down the path towards the road and double back to the little garden. The moon was bright, and the stars even brighter. Hanging arbors of bright purple and rosy blooms covered the walls and trellises.

She had chosen well, a secluded spot, hidden and muffled. He watched her room, a little cutaway on the ground floor, as he had before. Her shadow moving in the light, the flicker of candles gutting out as he heard the door to her terrace open.

He peered out from behind the arbor, her eyes instantly setting on him, her mouth parting in a smile. Hoisting her skirt, she ran over the little tiled terrace, scrambling, almost vaulting over the balustrade to land in his arms.

“I can’t believe you did that, Astarion,” she panted, instantly pressing her lips against his. “You’re so much trouble…”

“Yes,” he breathed in between her moving lips, “but aren’t I just worth it?”

“Show me what you were doing and we will see,” she growled into his mouth, his hands already skating over the silks of her gown, pawing beneath the edges of her robe. His fingers traced down her arm, weaving into her hand. Pulling her, they reached the little bench, nestled among the hanging vines of sleeping flowers. All was quiet and shadow. The air was cool against their burning skin, the stone of the bench even colder as they slammed into it, tumbling down to sit side by side. Pressed so tightly together, her leg draped between his. His arms pulled tightly around her waist.

“First day giving me your word you’ll be mine,” he panted, “and already all you want to know is how to pleasure me?”

“Well,” she shoved him away, hand planted firmly on his chest. “I already know how to tease you, to best you, to anger you and calm you…” she tilted her head with a sultry, knowing smile. “I’m sure there is much I have yet to learn… and I am eager for you to teach me.”

“You’ve come a long way from flinging mud in my face and threatening to tattle on my father, darling,” his words tickled her cheek as he hovered over her ear. “If you wish to learn, this lesson will be completely… hands on.”

“Save your wit, Astarion,” she hissed, a smile on her face, her hands already straying over the soft fabric of his tunic. “Need I remind you, after today, you had the advantage of knowing the sight of me… all of me. I have yet to have the same pleasure.”

“All in good time, after all…” he pulled away to stare into her eager eyes, so bright as they caught the starlight, “we have years ahead of us now.”

His hand covered hers, sliding it lower, letting her fingers brush over his belly that clenched as he struggled for air. Astarion said nothing, just giving her that half a smile that made her blush. His eyes watched her face blanch as he moved her hand even lower, to press it against where he was hard yet again that day. Slowly, he moved her fingers up and down it, her mouth hanging open slightly to feel its length from where it met his pelvis to the tip that pressed somewhere down the leg of his breeches.

She swallowed hard. Her breath was harsher than ever. Than even after sprinting.

“Well,” he finally purred as he kept their hands working over him slowly. “I only saw the parts of you that glittered in the water above its surface, and I have never been more jealous of some dewy drops on your skin before.”

Cordehlia smirked, beginning to move her hand more freely, fingers tracing the rounded edges of whatever it was beneath. “Now poetry? I prefer you razor wit…”

“How about nothing more than the sounds we make all on our own?” he breathed, his hands pulling the laces from his breeches free. She felt it shift as the fabric released. That hard thing twitching as he reached inside. She couldn’t look away, the sight of him making her mouth water.

And her body even hotter than she had ever been in his presence, in his arms before.

She shut her jaw, clenching it as she watched his hand wrap around its width, watched as it jerked and twitched as he beat over it back and forth. “It’s not like you to hesitate or to balk when something is… hard.”

One hand shoved his shoulder, the other wrapped to join his grip around that… thing. She exhaled as she squeezed, the skin so smooth, the whole shaft so hot and pulsing with the beat of his heart. And so hard as he had joked. Rigid and silken, hard and smooth. Her touch straying towards its tip, she saw it dripping, little white, almost clear drops as she touched it. She swept it in her fingers, tacky and slick over that fleshy tip.

He groaned as she did so, and instantly she pulled away. “Sorry,” she hissed, her cheeks growing even redder in shame to hurt him.

“No,” he panted, grabbing her hand back to encircle that tip again. “The opposite, it felt amazing, the way you touch my cock…”

“Oh,” she smiled, reapplying the same sort of stroke over that little slit, feeling it seeping again as she touched him. “So…” she tilted her head, meeting those dilated, violet eyes, “…you like this?”

“Mmm, very much, even better than when I touch myself and think of you. The real thing is so much better,” he groaned again as she stroked harder, faster, like he had before. Head thrown back, he closed his eyes, savoring that no-longer-timid touch.

“What happens next?” she asked, somehow breathless herself.

“The best part,” he replied through clenching teeth. “Whatever you do, don’t dare stop…” he was growling, his hips raising as she kept that beat. He rocked on the stone bench, hands gripping into the edge. She watched as he contorted, seeming to be in agony, that cock in her hand growing harder and hotter, but she didn’t dare stop. Like he asked.

She felt it shudder in her fingers, his body clenching as he groaned. Collapsing forward, he kept shaking as noise after pained and panting noise came from his mouth. More of that sticky white drips shot from him, and Cordehlia held her breath, so certain she had hurt him.

A fear that was dispelled the moment she looked at his face now. His slack-mouthed smile, his eyes wide and glowing in the moonlight, he wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her against him. Lashing his mouth to hers, he muttered such sweet things into her lips. “That was…” he paused to breathe, “amazing. You were perfect. Better than I had dreamed…”

“It looked painful,” she replied, breaking away with a push on his chest again. Turning her head, she looked where the stones of the terrace were discolored and wet, where his cock still dripped a little more of that gleaming whiteness. “And you call that pleasuring yourself?”

“I assure you, he grinned, brows raising, lips quirking, “it is quite the opposite of painful.”

“Hmm,” she hemmed, skeptical as she turned to look back into that face.

“You look like you need some.. convincing…”

His hands wrapped around her waist, slowly starting to gather up the thin silks that covered her perfect, pale skin.

“I think I can show you, if you let me,” he crooned, mouth smiling wider.

“You’re going to teach me how to… pleasure myself?” Oh, she was so haughty, so confident and daring. Even when she was wrong, it was stimulating.

“Really?” She kept that hand firmly on his chest, even as her body gave her away, her hips sliding slightly closer as his hands pulled her skirts to her knees. “I take it this knowledge was not garnered from first… hand… experience…” she tested him.

“No, no,” he shook his head, smiling with reassurance, “I read it in a book, a most fascinating book…”

“So fascinating that it made you pursue release in… pleasuring yourself after?”

“Seems like you know more than an elegant, righteous she-elf should…” he touched her skin then, sliding two fingers higher from her knee. “You weren’t watching me, were you?” he taunted, fingers tracing back down only to dare higher beneath her skirts.

“No, that seemed to be your duty, my darling,” she laughed as she spoke, low and slick. Her breath came heavier. Her skin flamed hotter the higher he touched.

Then, she looked right into his eyes, all that taunting evaporated, her smile softened, her eyes wide and pleading as she could do nothing more than breathe and lean back even more.

And he kept touching, awed by that look of trust and… love. And then, he slunk those fingers beneath the thin line of her undergarments.

She was… wet. Hot. Those folds he had read about, observed in drawings… it was so much better now. But he needed more.

His other hand gripped her knee, pulling those strong legs of hers apart. A gasp tore from her throat as she let him. Her fingers clutched at the back of his head, locked into his hair as if she was about to collapse.

And then, his touch slid inside. Her eyes shot wide, her face contorting like his had, now she knew why.

He slid those fingertips back and forth, dragging that hot slick more and more through that seam. At last, he circled through that point at the apex, drawing his touch over that hard little spot. Just as he had read. But the way it made her clench and groan was even… more magnificent.

Her cheeks were so pink, her forehead beading with sweat. “What… is that…” she managed to speak, breathless and deep in her throat.

“Give me you hand, sweet Cordehlia, and you can tend to your own needs when I can’t be with you in the shadows.”

She obeyed, keeping that one grip tight around his neck. But the other slipped in to join his so quickly. Pushing harder, sweeping faster, his fingers tried to keep up with the way she was… touching herself.

“Gods,” he groaned, “how does it feel?”

“I… can’t…” she panted, eyes shutting hard as she groaned.

So he slid his fingers in deeper in… in her quivering walls.

“Ah!” she mewled, forgetting they were still in danger, forgetting anyone could hear them.

But Astarion didn’t care, not when she clenched hard and tight around his fingers, not when his cock was pulsing again, aching for another round of his own release.

She shook so hard, she almost pulled him down, her arm releasing instead to hold herself up. Her eyes looked at his body again, settling on where his cock still stood hard and twitching in his lap. “I want to watch you… watch you touch yourself while I…”

“Yes,” he growled, hand slipping from her skirts, rubbing that slick that coated his whole hand over himself. “Gods, Cordehlia,” he couldn’t keep his eyes open, not needing much more than a few more pumps on his cock to set him nearly off again. One last glance of her face wracked with ecstacy, the sound of her orgasm as she beat her own fingers into that hot slick he could smell… it was enough.

It was more than enough.

He watched as she bit her lips and screamed through them, hearing that wet squelch of her fingers beneath her skirt grow somehow wetter sounding.

She was divine. Worthy. Beyond compare. Worth all the wagging tongues of the nobles and disapproving scowls of his parents to make her his.

His.

And with that, he groaned and came again. Harder and more intensely than ever before. Spurting streams of his cum covered the tiles and dripped from his hand.

He looked at her then, her eyes glazed with lust, with sated desire and yet burning up for more.

He was hers as much as she was his…

And he would never be the same.

————

She released his mind. His mouth hung open, his breath ragged.

His heart warmed over, despite being dead, all fluttering and hot. Maybe a fragment of his soul returned to him, he wasn’t sure. The way her silver eyes beat open, that ember of desire in them from the memory of so long ago… it made him realize just how achingly hard he had become.

More than her blood in his stomach, more than the sight of her bathing… it was an ache in his groin and his chest that only one thing could satisfy.

And he could smell the same need between her legs, could hear it in the way her heart raced and rapped in her chest.

Swift and sure, her hands clutched into his shirt, grabbing him hard and pulling him. To make him climb on her body, to cover herself in the only remedy to quell her burning. She pushed his clothes off his skin, his voice reduced to a growl in his throat. Those eager, dexterous fingers ripped his own clothes off, relieved only once he was freed. Once they both were freed, nothing but their skin and desire to share.

“I was your first,” he rasped, crushing her with his body, consuming her with his mouth. “The first to know you, to touch you…”

“To taste me and pleasure me and have me…” she purred, “and I you.”

“And none shall have you like I have… like I do…” Astarion groaned, slipping his fingers into her, just as he had perhaps a million times before. Her arousal was so hot and plentiful, all resistance was gone.

As if her body was made for him. The same way a key can slip so perfectly into its lock.

After those memories, he wouldn’t be surprised if it were so. “You enjoyed learning from me,” he grunted into her mouth, the visions of their memories still flaring in his head. “Didn’t you?”

“Yes,” she sighed back. Her hips bucking hard, riding each crooking touch he made deep inside her.

“Your little shakes of excitement, your wide, innocent eyes and pink little lips wet for me…”

“Yes,” she sighed again, arching and clinging hard around his neck.

“Your lips, your breasts, your honey-dripping cunt… Gods, I want to fuck them all, make every inch of you mine, make them swollen and marked by my bite…” he looked down at her then, teeth glinting as he gave a wide-mouthed grin. “Not the Druid, not the Wizard, not a single one that looks at you would doubt you are mine…”

“Astarion, I’ve been yours,” Cordehlia said, hands gripping hard as she shuddered, feeling her own juices beginning to gush around his fingers, his thumb commanding her with all the dexterity he plied, all the knowledge of her body he now recalled from centuries.

He crooked his fingers even harder through her orgasm, working and fighting against every time she bore down in ecstacy. Panting, she softened around him, beneath him. Yielding to every part of him, body and soul. “Your turn,” she rasped, face nestled against his shoulder. Her hand gripped around his cock, slick already from the drips that already leaked from its tip.

Hips bucking into her fist, his lips peeled back to bare his teeth. “May I?”

“Bite me a dozen times so everyone sees your markings? Yes,” she snickered, rubbing over his shaft just a little faster until he groaned. From her touch or her words, she wasn’t sure. But she loved it either way.

The base of her neck, the throbbing of her jugular, the crest of her collarbone… one after another he nipped and drank. Each bite making her fist clench so tightly around his cock, he had no choice but to let his body rut into her grip. His tongue lapped all over her own ivory skin, her crimson blood thick in his throat as she pleasured him.

That age-old touch that commanded him, pleasuring him as only she could. Thousands of forced lovers over hundreds of years, and for once, he reclaimed that feeling of intimacy, that near-first-time thrill he thought long dead. Making love to one he wanted. One he…

“I love you,” he whispered between her blood-dripping breasts.

“I have always loved you,” the reply couldn’t leave her lips fast enough. Her fingers gripping into the locks behind his pointed ears, pulling his dripping copper-tanged mouth to hers. Furious. Crazed. Matching that possessiveness stroke for stroke with her tongue, nip for nip with her teeth on his lips. Her hand dragged through the pooling blood on her body, running that warm, thick liquid over his cock.

Making him shudder as she ran her touch up and down it again. He groaned with that hot slick gliding over his length. The scent of her blood was too delicious to resist. “As fun as it was to cum all over you when we were young, I’d much rather be invited inside, my love.” He tried to sweeten his voice, but that play on his cock already had him undone.

She only chuckled, guiding him inside her so quickly, he barely could tell what was her fist and what was her folds until her thighs clenched tight around his waist, her hips bucking hard against his own. Riding him with every little bit of passion she had stored inside for him alone.

Possessing her for centuries. Making certain he never forgot now that he was hers to possess as well.

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whxtedreams · 3 months

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Chapter 5: Dead Man Walking

Blood Runs Thicker than Water - Joel & F!Reader (Platonic DBF!)

Summary: Joel suffers in the new world without his girls.

Word Count: 1.1k

Tags: Grief, mentions of loss, Joel is a mess, suicidal thoughts (joel), depressed!joel, the birth of Raider!Joel, Joel not coping with grief.

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist - Read on AO3

Chapter 5: Dead Man Walking

Joel's heart sinks as he drops to his knees before her teddy bear, its once fluffy fur now drenched and stained with blood. Desperation grips him, and he finds himself pleading to whatever powers that be, silently praying that the crimson splatter doesn't belong to the child he failed to save, failed to come back to.

He picks up the bear, his breath growing labored as he notes its limp form, a chilling resemblance to the way Sarah's lifeless body hung in his arms just moments ago. The sight brings an overwhelming sense of grief and helplessness as Sarah’s blood still clings to him.

The weight of the situation becomes unbearable, and Joel finds himself unable to contain the sickening feeling within him. His stomach turns, and his mind is gripped by a flurry of horrifying scenarios of what could have happened to her, each one more devastating than the last. In his torment, Joel bends over, unable to suppress the urge to vomit. The acidic bile burns his throat as he retches onto the floor, his eyes watering from the intensity of the experience. Tommy's hand comes to rest on his back, a silent presence providing both support and comfort during this moment of despair.

With a gentle touch, Tommy takes the bloodied bear from Joel's trembling hands, his grip tender yet firm. In that moment of anguish, tears stream down Joel's face, the weight of his loss and grief overwhelming him in waves.

Joel's voice breaks as he speaks through tears and gasps, his words escaping amidst a torrent of emotion. "I told her I'd come back," he chokes out, the weight of his promise crashing down upon him like a wave.

Joel's voice trembles as he looks up at Tommy, his desperation evident in the rawness of his tone. Between gasped breaths, his question echoes with a poignant mix of anguish and longing, "Why didn’t she wait for me?"

Tommy, sensing the depth of his brother's pain, instinctively crouches beside him. His grip firm and supportive upon Joel's shoulder, attempting to offer some semblance of comfort as he watches his brother break in front of him for one of the first times in his life.

Joel doesn’t talk for a few days.

Doesn’t sleep.

Doesn’t eat.

His mind is consumed by the weight of grief and guilt. The memory of his daughter's death hangs heavily over him, along with the loss of his best friend’s little girl who he loved as if she was his own.

Did she even know that? Did she know how he fought to not lose her too? His knuckles bloody before he reached the empty diner he left her in. How broken his skin was after he left. How Tommy, bruised and bloody had to drag him out screaming because he thought you would come back.

Did she know how he still sees you in his dreams? That when he finally collapses into sleep, that all he can hear is you screaming his name and Sarah’s blood drowning him?

Did she know that he still sees her in the trees, the sunsets, the streams, everywhere. He sees her everywhere, always out of reach. Disappearing before he reaches out for her.

Did she know he tried to leave this world, unable to cope with the loss and guilt? Did she know that he saw her eyes in her teddy bear, staring back at him as he was ready to end it all? Did she know that he’s still fighting for the possibility he finds her again?

Did she know that the loss of her is tearing him apart from the inside as he tears people apart from the outside?

Or does she think that he just left her without a second thought? If she’s thinking that, at least she’s alive.

As they leave the city behind and enter the desolate landscapes, Tommy makes a valiant effort to break the silence. His words float through the air, but find no echo in Joel's heavy silence. Joel's mind is immersed in a world of torment, his thoughts consumed by the weight of grief and guilt. His deafened ears don't register Tommy's attempt at conversation, leaving the air filled only with the echoes of nature and the unspoken pain within Joel's soul.

His soul torn and draining through his skin at the loss of them.

As weeks go by, Tommy and Joel find themselves encountered by a group of people who call themselves raiders. Tommy rejects the idea of joining this group, not finding alignment with how they navigate the new world. Joel echoes his brother's sentiment, choosing to part ways with the group. However, as time unfolds, Joel starts to see the harsh realities of their solitary survival. The world has become a dangerous place, and their own chances of making it unscathed are slim.

He can’t lose Tommy too.

He wont lose Tommy too.

As their resources dwindle, Joel and Tommy find themselves approaching the point of no return, the strain of survival weighing heavily on them. In a moment of desperation, they stumble in the path of the raider's group once more, who quickly acknowledge their impressive fighting skills after they caught the brothers by surprise. Recognizing their potential value, the raiders reluctantly agree to take them in, albeit with some misgivings. In the harsh world they now inhabit, survival often hinges on alliances built on mutual needs, even if trust doesn’t come easily.

Joel keeps a vigilant watch over Tommy, never taking his eyes off his brother. Suspicion and distrust fill every glance, and he scans their surroundings with a watchful gaze, wary of the potential threat lingering within the raider's camp. His grip on Tommy tightens, a protective gesture fueled by a desire to shield his brother from any harm. Any hint of hostility or ill intent from the other raiders are met with a sharp and deadly glare, signaling Joel's readiness to defend his brother at any cost.

By the second week, no one dares to look at the brothers. Word spreads through the camp about the violent and brutal attacks initiated by Joel, leaving broken bones and mangled bodies in his wake. Eventually, the other raiders begin to steer clear of the two men, their fear-driven avoidance a testament to the raw power and anger that simmers within Joel. The atmosphere grows tense, a dark cloud of anticipation hanging over the camp, each individual haunted by the lingering shadow of Joel's relentless wrath.

The world ended for Joel the night he lost his girls and now he’s a dead man walking among the living.

Click here for Chapter 6

Notes

Last part of part 1! This was a little hard to write just because it’s depressing lol. But it was just a stream of thought tbh, kinda just started and didn’t stop. So I hope its represented well. I hope you enjoyed the first part of the series!

Next chapter Sneak Peak!

With gentle and soothing motions, Joel's hand begins to stroke the length of your back, offering a comforting presence. Your gaze remains fixed on the still form of the dead man, his lifeless eyes staring back at you as blood drips from the hole in his neck. Joel's voice breaks the tense silence, whispering reassurances once more. "Everything's alright." The repetition of his words serves as a soothing mantra, a lifeline that grounds you in the face of shock and terror.

If you want to be tagged, please comment on the masterlist for this series and I will add you. If you want to be taken off, please DM so i don't miss your request.

Every comment, like and reblog means the world to me. please let me know your thoughts about this, i want to ramble about this story so much.

tags: @sunandmuun , @rain-soaked-sun , @frootloops1213 , @samarav , @geralallfandoms , @joelmillersblog , @severussimp

#joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel tlou #joel fanfic #tlou #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller tlou #joel miller x you

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b00kdiary · 8 months

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NEW WIP- Azriel x OC (Hofas)

A Ballad of Flame & Shadow | Azriel

CHAPTER ONE HERE

Alex was falling between worlds- falling through worlds- until she landed with Bryce someplace that was definitely not Hel.

And now there was a male before her, the most beautiful male she had ever seen and something other than fear sparked in her heart.

***

The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb and Alex will do anything to protect Bryce, anything to get the answers they need and save Midgard.

But in a world, she doesn’t know, surrounded by strange Fae she doesn’t trust Alex is out of her element- especially when faced with those hazel eyes and shadows that sing out to her.

Faced with a male who seems to be the one thing on this planet that feels unnervingly like home.

A/N:

I will be posting this story on Wattpad/ Ao3 and will put up links for that when I do (I AM SO EXCITED!)

I will post the first chapter here, to hopefully entice all of you to go check it out. (PLEASE DO CHECK IT OUT!)

comment to be tagged when I release the first chapter and for more details! (SCREAMING!)

------

People who commented on the original post---->

@hellodarling1357 @charlineraven @starrystarkey93 @mockingjaytributes @nelapeach14 @alessiazeni @bishhh2003 @impossibelle @firebreathingbishqueen

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dropofbittersea · 8 months

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Stiles hasn’t seen his extended family in years- mostly because they’re assholes. His cousins bully him relentlessly, and his aunts and uncles aren’t much better. So when he hears that they’re coming out for a family reunion, he’s understandably upset. He knows the next week is going to be hell, and it’s made worse when a new pack shows up, vowing revenge on their pack.

Also, Sterek happens.

#derek hale #sterek #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #fanfic #ao3 #fanfiction #multichapter

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total-lost-boys-simp · 10 months

Text

Water Might be Thicker Than Blood

TLB!Poly! x Fem Reader

Chapter 4

Chapter 3 / Chapter 5

The obnoxious warm beams of the sun forced their way through the thick patterned curtains. “Ngh…what time is it?” (Y/N) asked herself as she sat up in her bed. Her bed? When did she come home last night? She just remembers the boys & her brother going out and them never coming back, but nothing about going home.

Looking down at her bedside table (Y/N) picked up the little analog alarm clock. Squinting her still tired eyes she saw the big and little hands telling her it was seven thirty-three. “God, why is it so early?” (Y/N) asked herself as she put the clock down and headed down to the kitchen.

She had narrowly missed her mom heading off to work as she heard her pull out of the dirt driveway. “Well that’s one lecture avoided for now,” (Y/N) muttered as she opened the fridge. (Y/N) felt her life flash before her eyes when a voice jumped out from behind, “What’u doin’ up so early?”

“Jesus, grandpa!” (Y/N) exclaimed as she whipped around.

“Better not be goin’ through any of my root beers & oreos, ya hear?” Grandpa aggressively pointed his finger at the still open fridge.

“I don’t plan on it, just gonna make some breakfast. Do you want any?” (Y/N) queried as she rummaged through the fridge.

“Nah that’s all you kiddo, I’m goin’ back to my handy work,” grandpa laughed as he walked to his taxidermy room.

“...Okay then, bacon & eggs for one it is then.”

After breakfast (Y/N) spent some time basking in the vibrant warm glow of the daylight while reading a book in the sun room at the front of the house. She still couldn’t believe how different her life had become in just a short couple of days. Going from having no one but her mom & brothers to have six new, exciting, adventurous and untroubled people in her life. As she was thinking about the changes she started thinking more about the boys and how they were kind of…hot? With their leather clad looks and wind catching bikes. They just lure you in with their standout features and wild personalities. At least they lured (Y/N), like a naive little fish to a worm on a hook…Or maybe she’s the one luring them? No, she’s definitely the one that took the bait…especially as she thought of everytime their briskly cold fingers grazed her body. It was like nothing she had ever felt before.

(Y/N) was so lost in her thoughts about the boys that she hadn’t even noticed her brothers whining at each other upstairs. What is it this time, she thought as she stood up going towards the stairs. “What’s going on up there?” She shouted from the base of the staircase. “Mom’s on the phone!” Sam shouted. (Y/N) walked up just to see what her brother’s were getting up to. “Uh yeah…hey mom, (Y/N)’s here…you should talk to her too,” Michael suggested with a smirk on his face extending the phone to (Y/N). His sister just knew he was too hungover from last night to talk to their mom…why else would he be wearing sunglasses inside? She snatched the phone out of his hands before flipping him off and walking a foot or so away.

“Oh hey mom…what’s up?” (Y/N) asked, cautious about what’s to come.

“Hi sweetie, I was just telling you brother that I’d like the two of you to watch Sam while I’m out tonight,” Her mom’s sweet and soft voice sounded fuzzy over the landline.

“Well I was kind of hoping to go meet up with some friends…” (Y/N) demurred.

“(Y/N) you know how it’s been, I’d just like to have a night for me. Could you two please just watch your brother?”

“But mom-”

“(Y/N), you and Michael can’t just be going out all night whenever you want, I already told your brother all of this. I’d just like to be the one going out tonight,”

(Y/N) sighed, “Yeah of course mom. Stay safe tonight, okay?”

“Of course sweetie, I’ll be a phone call away.”

“Alright, love you…bye,” (Y/N) said as she hung up the phone and handed it back to Michael.

“I’m going back down stairs, no one talk to me for the foreseeable future,” (Y/N) huffed as she stomped down the stairs. She was just so frustrated. Sam is a teenager at this point, he can be by himself! Why should (Y/N) have to stay cooped up in here keeping an eye on him? This girl just wants to use up what little bits of freedom she has left for the summer before she has to go back to college courses and part time job hunting. It’s not that she’s upset with her mom, she’s just upset that her mom told her to stay with Sam as if he were still a baby.

Day turned to night as (Y/N) disgruntledly went back to her book and calmed herself down. At this point the sun had already set and the radiant moonlight seeped into the glass room she was resting in. Barely realizing what time it was (Y/N) looked up from her provocative page and saw the wind picking up, forcing trees to lean their way back and wind chimes ready to take flight. “I haven’t eaten since like 8am…,” she mumbled to herself as she got up and walked to the kitchen where her brother was.

“Hey, want a sandwich, I’m making some for me and Mike,” Sam asked.

“Yeah sure,” his sister sighed as she leaned on the table.

“Still upset?” Sam questioned as he pulled out the bread.

“No, just annoyed now.”

“Yeah of course you are,” Sam snickered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Before (Y/N) could get an answer Grandpa came rushing in harshly setting a couple things on the counter as he asked, “Hey anything around here that might pass for uh- a aftershave?”

Sam started looking around before reaching and saying,”How bout some Windex, Grandpa?” he suggested, sniffing the bottle. Oh my god, this is ridiculous (Y/N) thought as she watched this ludicrous scene play out in front of her. “Yeah yeah, let me get some of that, huh?” Grandpa said as he hastily walked towards Sam. Grandpa let out a weird, “Yeahhh…” before rubbing a few spritzes of windex on his face, causing Sam to let out a laugh. As this was happening, Michael sauntered into the kitchen asking, “You got a big date tonight, Grandpa?”

“Yeah hahaha,” Grandpa let out as he walked over to the counter past Michael, “Just gonna drop by some of my handiwork to the widow Johnson.”

“What you stuff for her, Mr. Johnson?” Michael mocked with a smirk.

“That wasn’t funny Mike!” Sam exclaimed as ‘La Cucaracha’ honked outside.

“Yeah, maybe get off your high horse and be respectful a bit?” (Y/N) suggested as she sat on the kitchen counter. Michael glared at his older sister.

Looking up at his older brother, Sam insisted, “I’m going to make you a sandwich.” to which he responded, “Don’t bother.” (Y/N) watched as her brothers bickered and grew ever so slightly more upset and annoyed with each other. Before she could jump in the three were caught off guard by roaring motorcycles, glaring bright lights and the wind causing everything window to open and clatter. “What the hell?” Michael shouted walking closer to the windows. “What’s causing this?” (Y/N) exclaimed as she hopped off the counter and went into the living room with her brothers. The revving of the bikes was not met with whooping and hollering even a faint calling of an all too familiar domineering platinum haired biker. (Y/N) ran to the front door and flung it open with Michael right behind her and Sam shouting, “(Y/N) what are you doing?! Don’t!” but as soon as they all looked outside things went silent, still, mysterious.

“What’s going on guys?” Sam asked as Michael closed the door.

“It’s nothing, don't worry Sammy,” (Y/N) tried reassuring her little brother.

“Go take your bath,” Michael quietly commanded his little brother.

After Sam went upstairs (Y/N) asked, “Michael, what’s going on? Really? Did something happen last night with the boys? Did you get into some kind of trouble?” She followed her brother around expecting an answer. “Leave it alone, (Y/N),” Michael tried hush his sister's interrogation. “No, not until-” she was cut off by her brother whipping around inches away from her saying, “Leave. It. Alone.” Mildly intimidated and extremely annoyed (Y/N) exclaimed, “Fine, whatever! I don’t give a damn anyways,” and stomped upstairs.

(Y/N) decided now was as good a time as any to try and drift off to sleep while reading her book. It’s something that always helps her when she’s stressed, ever since she was a kid. Flopping down on her bed she heard something clamor to the ground. What was that, she thought as she peered over her mattress. It was a walkman, the same walkman she was using when she was in the cave. While (Y/N) got this warm feeling inside, she also had a rush of chills. So the boys really were here? That revving and shouting and screeching was actually them? But how did they disappear so quickly? How did they get the walkman into (Y/N)’s room on the second floor? Things that probably would make sense at any other time but just didn’t at the moment with all that just happened. “I don’t want to think about this anymore,”she murmured to herself, “I’m not sure I really want to,” putting the headphones on, hitting play and opening her book.

There was an atmosphere of tranquility in the air for a few minutes letting (Y/N) enjoy her thrilling novel before she heard a rambunctious thud outside her room. “What the hell?” She whispered as she took off the headphones and got out of bed. Walking out into the hallway and to Sam’s door (Y/N) knocked asking, “Sam, is everything okay?” Without an answer Sam launched open the door and pulled his sister into the room. “(Y/N) he’s a vampire, like a real vampire!The one’s in the movies! He wants to drain our blood! He’s going to tear us apart!” Sam shouted nonsense in his older sister’s face. “What are you talking about?” She asked. She didn’t get an answer, instead Sam picked up the phone right when it rang.

“Hello,” he asked, “Mom, I think we have to have a real long talk about something.” Sam kept going as screaming could be heard from Michael’s bedroom. What the hell, is all (Y/N) could think. “Mom…uh-oh” Sam stammered into the phone, “No,” he paused, “Now we should stay calm,” he paused again, “Oh nothing, nothing,” pause, “Mom, I can’t talk about it over the phone it’s about Michael,” instead of a pause Sam looks past (Y/N) and screamed bloody murder! Thinking this is a prank now (Y/N) looks behind her- NOPE! Her other brother is FLYING OUTSIDE THE DAMN WINDOW. “Holy crap! What is going on?!” (Y/N) shouted as she grabbed onto her not-flying baby brother. Sam kept screaming into the phone and panicking causing their mother to panic as well.

(Y/N) on the other hand wanted to scream but she just sat there in shock trying to make sense of all of this. She wanted to think rationally, maybe it was a prank her conniving little brothers pulled…Sam’s acting was never that good though. Michael doesn’t look like he’s attached to any rope either. Was her brother really flying? Was he really outside a second story window with nothing preventing him from floating off except a telephone cord? When did this start? How did it start? What’s going to happen? All the questions raced through (Y/N) head as she sat in a silent state of panic while both her brothers went crazy.

She snapped back to reality once she heard Michael begging for help, “I’m your brother, open the window!” he screamed hysterically. Running to the window (Y/N) opened it immediately pulling her brother through and keeping him grounded. Sam sat on the ground next to his older siblings. In a huff Michael said, “We have to stick together.” To which Sam asked, “What about mom?” (Y/N) looked over at him and said, “Don’t worry, we’ll think of something.” Sam started to panic again, “I don’t know guys, it’s not like getting a D in school or something.” Michael reassured his little brother that he and (Y/N) would figure it out.

Just as the three of them quieted down their mother came rushing into the house, “Sam?!” She shouted repeatedly running into the house. “Oh Sam are you alright?! You had me scared to death!” Lucy exclaimed, coming up to her son. “He’s fine, mom, he just got frightened by one of his comic books. I’m sorry he called you, I should have checked up on him,” (Y/N) said, putting a hand on her brother’s shoulder. “Yeah, I guess I got a little carried away. That’s all,” Sam said with a shrug.” Oh the look on this poor woman’s face right now…”You got carried away by a comic book?!” oh no. “It was a scary comic, I’m sorry,” Sam was trying his best at least?

“You know, I just about had it with all three of you! You know that?” Lucy jabbed at two of her kids. They knew better than to talk back, everyone in this room has been in this situation one too many times. Lucy turned her head to the kitchen and walked over asking, “What is this mess?!” she continued, “You spill milk all over the kitchen floor and you don’t bother to clean it up?” picking the white milk carton off the floor. “We didn’t-” (Y/N) was cut off as her mom went on to say, “I can’t believe you people, and the refrigerator door-” Blah blah blah, was all (Y/N) as she tuned her family out. She didn’t want to deal with any of it anymore so she walked up to her room ignoring her mother’s shouts and modest threats of “punishment”. She just knew her mom wouldn’t follow, she never does.

Instead of staying in her room (Y/N) snuck out of the house closely behind Michael. She startled her little brother as her shoes broke dried branches and leaves. Whipping his fluffed brunette curls around, “What- damn it (Y/N) be quiet. What are you doing here?” he asked his sister. “You’re going to get your answers, I’m going to get mine. We’ll see who has better luck,” she proclaimed, causing Michael to roll his eyes. “Fine, get on. I’ll drop you off at the boardwalk.”

Everything was as lively and exciting as it usually was down here. The carnival rides and the illuminating neon lights of the arcades & shops made (Y/N) almost nauseous after the night she had. She walked up and down the boardwalk a couple times without seeing any sign of the boys. Where are they? What else could they be doing right now? She mentally asked herself. Suddenly, a cold breath and smooth voice nipped at her neck behind her saying, “Didn’t expect to see you here.” Snapping around (Y/N) was met with David less than an inch from her face.

“I came looking for you,” she revealed with uncertainty in her voice.

“Oh yeah?” the scruffy bleach blonde asked with one eyebrow raised.

“Yeah…where are the others? I want to talk to them too,” (Y/N) shakily demanded looking David in the eye.

“They’re with the bikes, follow me,” David ordered, grabbing (Y/N) by the hand.

After a short walk to the rest of the group (Y/N) could feel the pit forming in her stomach, scared of what’s to come.

“Hey mama, where’ve you been?!” shouted Paul as he spotted (Y/N) and David.

“Man, why does David get special treatment but we don’t?” Marko pouted, seeing David and (Y/N) hold hands.

“Stop making her uncomfortable, guys,” Dwayne quieted the two boys up.

Standing there (Y/N) felt stuck, she was frozen nervous…completely different than how she was just one night ago. She snatched her hand away from David, not realizing he still held onto it. She tried to look anywhere except the boys, her refusal to speak didn’t help the situation.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” asked Marko with what (Y/N) hoped was a look of genuine concern.

“I- uh yeah, I’m just feeling a little off tonight…” she trailed her words.

“Why’s that?” David asked, peering down at her as he lit a cigarette.

“I don’t know…some stuff just happened tonight that made me a little…worried, I guess?”

“Like what? Hope it was nothing too, rev-viting,” Paul snickered as his comment earning him a hard nudge from Dwayne.

“What? Uh no- Actually. You know what? Sort of, it was crashing and loud, then confusing, then shocking, then mildly frightening and I feel like you all have something to do with it!” (Y/N) shouted waving her hands about emphasizing her frustration.

“Someone catches on quick,” David huffed out with his smoke.

“What?” (Y/N) asked.

“Yeah, I thought it’d take her at least a few more days. Like three,” Paul shrugged, grinning down as (Y/N).

“Huh?” was all she could belt out in her confusion.

“Really? I thought a week, maybe more,” Marko chuckled, his stare becoming darker.

“Just let me-,”(Y/N) couldn’t get another word in among the boys.

“C’mon, you don’t give the girl enough credit. We all know she’s smarter than that,” David jested to his friends, swinging an arm around the tense girl next to him, “You’ve figured it out by now, haven’t you, (Y/N)?”

“Most likely,” her voice felt small and deaf to her ears.

“You can say it, don’t be shy,” he assured her, coming up behind her ever so close, enough to just feel his presence as terrorizing as it was right now. He leaned down, his surprisingly warm breath met her ear, “No one will hear you.”

“Oh just stop, you’re vampires,” (Y/N) attested in false confidence, really she was about to barf in her mouth, she was so nervous. “Everything got weird the night you took us to the cave…I kept racking my brain trying to figure out what happened that night that could have made my brother like you. I thought it was something stupid like you lacing our food or the weed making us trip out when we got home. That wasn’t it obviously since Sam was Michael flying too. Then I realized, “Wait, this is only happening to Michael?” then BAM it hit me! The wine wasn’t wine-” Let’s be real no 19-20 sum year olds are going to drink wine to get blasted with friends.

Paul jumped off his bike and up to (Y/N)’s face exclaiming, “We never said it was,” grabbing her waist and bringing her in tight. David pushed the dirty blonde punk off of her, to (Y/N)’s relief, in what could have been a spur of jealousy? No, these guys are staring at this poor girl like she’s table scraps being thrown on the floor for a group of starving caged wolves. Why would they get jealous over who gets to touch her?

“Anyways,” (Y/N) continued, “you gave him blood, who’s blood? I don’t know but it definitely wasn’t human so it must’ve been one of you. And you know what, I don’t care! I don’t care that you’re angry I figured it out! I don’t care if you feel threatened since I know your secret! I don’t care if you drain every once of blood from my body because after the night I’ve had I don’t care about anything right now! I’m scared, I’m frustrated and I’m just really pissed off! How did I go from having a safe, secure normal life one state over to possibly getting eaten by creatures that shouldn’t even exist!I hardly know any of you, I don’t know how you got to Santa Carla, I don’t know where you’re from, who any of you used to be, how many people you’ve killed!? How could I be so naive!? I just- how did I end up here?!” (Y/N) felt her face heat up as warm salted tears kept streaming down her eyes like a river. With every gasp for air between sobs she could feel the lump in her throat getting larger making it more and more difficult to breathe. (Y/N) didn’t realize just how much anger and heartbreak she had built up in her until now, this was just what pushed her over the edge. She tried wiping away her tears with the hem of her sleeves but every rub of fabric made her eyes itchy.

(Y/N) didn’t bother looking up once she felt the secure embrace of a leather dressed vampire with his arms wrapped around her upper back and his chin resting on the top of her head, “We don’t want to “eat” you, you don’t have to worry about that, ever,” Dwayne’s smooth voice, comforting, fixed hold and rhythmic “breathing” were enough to keep (Y/N) from choking between hysteric sobs.

“Let’s go for a ride,” Marko suggested, resting his hand on (Y/N) shoulder. His sudden touch made the poor girl flinch. That may have been the first time Marko ever experienced heart break in his undead life. “Hey man, she’s scared and on edge, let’s chill,” Paul leaned down and whispered to his short curly fry of a friend. “No, it’s cool, I’m down…sorry Marko,”(Y/N)’s voice was hoarse and slimy from all her crying.

“So where are we going?” (Y/N) asked as she jumped up and threw her leg over the back of David’s bike.

“You’ll see,” was David’s only response from the bleach blonde vamp.

“How can I trust you?” (Y/N) asked again, wrapping her arms around his waist, interlocking her fingers tight.

Before speeding off Marko shouted, “You got on the bike didn’t you?!”

The boys came to a screeching halt causing (Y/N) to thrust her body onto David’s back, “Holy fuck guys, are we here?” she exclaimed, confused by the very sudden stop…why are they at a convenience store? “No, just figured we’d get you something to eat for later,” Paul replied, hopping off his bike. “For later? Why not now? (Y/N) asked, pushing up on David’s shoulders to get off his still hot and revving motorcycle. “Trust us, you don’t want to eat right now,” Paul honestly seems like the only one willing to say any words and also seems like the only one willing to go into the store with the puzzled girl of the group. “You guys need to stop being so vague all the time,” she said before walking in with the sandy blonde biker.

After getting food and continuing their ride it wasn’t long before the spirited group reached their final destination; a secluded beachfront park. “Hey Paul,” (Y/N) called out. “Yeah?” the sandy blonde shot back. “Were you just messing with me?” the delish girl asked, fidgeting with her jacket. “Wha’ do you mean?” The bronze medallion chain on his jacket glimmered as he turned towards (Y/N). As the group walked on (Y/N) didn’t notice the boys falling back and slowly disappearing one by one. “I mean back at the convenience store when- Paul? Paul, where you- Paul, Marko, David…Dwayne?” The now disconcerted and very perplexed girl was frantically searching for the group she had arrived with. Distant screams rang out just a few yards away. Instantly (Y/N) started chasing the noise, she just knew it had to be them, it had to be the boys…well they had to be the cause.

What (Y/N) had come across was enough to make anyone throw up the turn tail in fear, but (Y/N)...she couldn’t even move. She felt stuck, like her feet were glued to the grass. Actually, not just her feet, her whole body was frozen solid. It was like if she moved…she’d be next no matter how many times they told her she wouldn’t. “(Y/N)!You made it just in time,” David called out as soon as he saw the petrified girl. He dropped the body, of what looked like a young teenager, onto the ground…a spine tingling crunch could be heard as David needlessly stepped on the kid’s knee cap deforming the body part causing parts of the femur and tibia to peak out amongst torn muscle and flesh. What little blood left in the teen oozed its way out from the injury and the puncture mark on their neck. “Why don’t you come get a closer look,” David announced, raising one of his arms while using the other to wipe blood off of his face. “I…” was all that (Y/N) could muster before the rest of the boys emerged, each doused in rich crimson hemoglobin smothering them from mouth to chest. “(Y/N) it’s alright-” before Dwayne could cautiously continue, “Boo,” Marko whispered in the poor petrified girl's ear. In that very moment she was from pure stone to jelly as she let out a blood curdling shriek and fell to her knees as she tried to run. I’m never going to survive an apocalypse (Y/N) thought to herself. She sat on her knees, hands to her side, head to the sky, her chest rising & falling- lungs gathering as much air as they could. David and the rest of the boys walked up to her, their leader getting down on one knee before grabbing (Y/N) by the chin and pulling her face close. The stench of iron made (Y/N) nose’s burn and eyes water with how strong it was. “You’re cute when you’re scared,” David bit his lip and whispered before shoving the timid girl into the grass and walking away.

“Are you okay?” Dwayne asked as he and Marko trudged over to the meek girl, Paul following close behind. “I…yeah? But no? I don’t know?” she responded just really upset and confused at this point. “David gets off on eating people and scaring them but we didn’t think he’d do that,” Marko explained as Dwayne and himself helped (Y/N) up. “Yeah...I noticed,” was all she could get out at that moment. Marko threw his jacket around (Y/N)’s shoulders revealing his fit yet not overtly muscular arms. That’s a little surprising, (Y/N) thought as she felt a blush creeping across her cheeks. With a smirk as if he knew what she was thinking, the short curly haired biker asked, “Something on your mind?” Averting her gaze she replied, “Nope, we should get back to the bikes.”

The three vamps and their frustrated friend walked back in silence. Even when they met up with David…silence. The ride home…silence. Everything about that night became awkward and silent as (Y/N) let it all sink in.

“Hey, we’re sorry about tonight…It was supposed to be a joke, really,” Paul said as he helped (Y/N) off the bike and to her Grandpa’s front door. “Yeah sure…I’ll see you guys later,” she responded, not even making eye contact before heading inside.

taglist: @sadslasher13 @crowleydeclare @bdudette @sophiaj650 @henhouse-horrors

#alex winter #kiefer sutherland #billy wirth #brooke mccarter #marko the lost boys #david the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #paul the lost boys #80s vampires #the lost boys #tlb 1987 #santa carla

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fantasylandbitch · 2 months

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Series

Scream 4-6: The Prequel | Coming Soon

A Love So Understanding | Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 2.5 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 4.5 Chapter 5 Chapter 5.5 Chapter 6 Chapter 6.5 Chapter 7 Chapter 7.5 Chapter 8 Chapter 8.5 Chapter 9 (Chapter 9.5 Coming Soon)

Scream 6: A New Season | Coming Soon

Scream 7: It Ends Here | Coming Soon

Scream 5: When Our Blood is Thicker than the Water of the Womb | Part 1

Scream: Of Ghosts & Cowboys | Coming Soon

Scream: The Dawn of Dragons | Coming Soon

Headcanons

Sam Knows You're On The Spectrum

Sam Knows You've Had A Rough Childhood

Sam Writes/Types Poetry

#FantasyLandBitch's Sam Carpenter HeadCanons #FantasyLandBitch's Masterlist #scream franchise #scream #scream 4 #scream 1-6 #scream 6 #scream x reader

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where-does-the-heart-lie · 1 year

Text

Water is Thicker Than Blood Comic 10

New chapter Featuring one of my fav gags from one piece.

<Start>

<Prev

Next>

An extra long chapter this week cuz i really needed to finish the joke this week. Also cuz its the tenth chapter! Ain’t that fun :) we may have been halfway through by now, but ive fallen a bit behind on my outline because i added a bunch of silly jokes in previous chapters.

#my art #one piece #asl brothers #sabo #monkey d. luffy #one piece fan art #portgas d. ace #water is thicker than blood comic #Wittb

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greyclerk · 5 months

Text

Teen Wolf Fic Rec

Blood is (Not) Thicker Than Water

By: Anxiety_Baker02

Completed. 13/13 chapters. 78,000 words.

Summary:

Also, Sterek happens.

#fanfic #ao3 #fanfic rec #stiles stilinski #sterek #teen wolf #derek hale x stiles stilinski #derek hale

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jvngkook97 · 2 years

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Killing Me Softly

synopsis; you wake up from a night of fun, yet one you barely remember. your vampire bff ghosts you and your past comes to haunt you in the worst way possible. OR they say that blood is thicker than water, but what do you do when the person you trust most turns out to be the monster you’ve always been warned about?

pairing; vampire!jungkook x human!reader

genre; angst, fluff, humor, horror, smut(for later chapters), f2l, vampire au

warnings; cursing, jealousy, lots of confusion on reader’s part, moments of self doubt, flashbacks, mentions of blood, mentions of committing a violent act, familiar faces, soft vampire!koo moments, more horror tropes, some new competition for reader??

rating; 21+ MINORS DNI

w/c; 5,444

a/n; FIRST OFF THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE. this is part two of ‘sucker for love’. highly recommend reading that first chapter in order to understand what’s going on. don’t be a silent reader! <3 i can’t express enough how much all of your kind words and encouragement genuinely fuel my inspiration. feedback is always appreciated and helps keep this writer motivated in order to put out more content – like this! all the love, always.

networks; @thebtswritersclub, @btshoneyhive, @kflixnet, @k-vanity

01. 02. 03

“Have we learned our lesson now?”

Your roommate, Valerie, leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom, arms crossed over her chest. You flipped her the middle finger without looking, head still inside the toilet as your stomach relieved itself of whatever poison you ingested. An insult was on the tip of your tongue, but was silenced by another strong heave taking over. She had a point, you were never good when it came to parties and going overboard on drinking, but you would never admit it to her.

Your stomach was still churning from last night’s events, but settled enough for you to sit back against the wall of the bathtub and actually try to think on what the fuck happened. The last thing you remember clearly is Jungkook ditching you, hanging out with Jimin and Yoongi who saved you from being a loner at Namjoon’s party, leaving said party to head to another party once Namjoon shut his down with a group of people you weren’t quite familiar with, and then – nothing. Literally, nothing. It’s all a blank in your mind.

November 1st, 2022 9:04am

When you woke up this morning, you were in your own bed. Your head was a rat’s nest, your makeup was smeared, your clothes were dirty, ripped, and there was little specks of blood on the collar of your costume. Upon further inspection, you realize your cape was long gone and one of your heels was broken. So how you managed to get home on one working heel is beyond you.

What boggled your mind further was the flurry of texts you found on your phone once you plugged it in to charge. Apparently, your phone died sometime during your nightly shenanigans. Reading the texts, it was Jimin asking you where you were and if you were okay. Multiple calls and voicemails followed.

He sounded worried, scared even.

But, that made no sense, why would he feel the need to be so worried about you? Wasn’t he with you the whole time? Yoongi? As soon as you could focus well enough to type out a reply, you told him that you were at home and alive and left it at that. Shortly after sending, the ‘read’ notification pops up, those three bubbles form, and then disappear. You give him another few minutes, but they never return. Huffing, you throw your phone carelessly on the bed, it bounces off and lands on the floor.

Groaning in annoyance, you sink to your knees next to your bed when you realize it must’ve slid underneath when it bounced. Feeling around, your hand bumps into something sharp. You flinch and hiss, cradling your hand to your chest as you inspect the little dot of blood that builds on your fingertip. What the hell?

Now laying sideways on your stomach on the floor, your head turned to look under your bed, you get a better view. Instantly, you hone in on your phone, then use the flashlight on it to illuminate the sharp mystery object.

It was a knife. A bloody knife.

Your eyes widen in horror.

What did you do last night?

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

November 5th, 2022 7:52pm

Remember, remember—

You needed answers.

You needed to remember.

Ones that would explain why you’re currently concealing a potential murder weapon that’s now wrapped in an old raggedy shirt, in a dusty old shoebox, underneath your queen sized bed that ironically has a ‘Halloween’ themed throw blanket on top of it. The main antagonist wielding a knife that looked the exact same, the tip of it also adorning blood.

What can you say?

You’re a major fan of horror movies.

That’s not suspicious at all, though, right? It wouldn’t scream that you have a bloody knife of your own hidden just beneath the surface, right?

Even as you tug down the sleeves of your Freddy Krueger replica sweater you bought from Hot Topic in hopes of fighting off the bone chilly air of November, your thoughts are not only on the fact you may or may not have participated in someone’s demise last night, but they also drift to Jungkook who you haven’t heard or seen since he left you on Halloween night.

Normally, on nights where he has to feed, you wake up in the morning with him in your room just reading one of your books. The curtains are drawn, but he basks in the little warmth of the sun that his skin can handle as he lounges on your reading nook. Generally, it’s a Stephen King novel. He’s finished majority of them. Those days are the best, cause he chooses to be with you, knowing he can’t leave until it gets dark again.

Getting lost in thought, you mindlessly keep walking down the cobblestone path that’s usually quite popular with locals, but right now is barren all except for you—

—and the black cat that scurries across your feet, making you fumble before catching your footing in time so as not to fall flat on your face. The split second fall triggers both an adrenaline rush and a memory you thought you suppressed. You freeze. The wind whips your hair back and forth, some strands get stuck on your wet, slightly parted lips. Your eyes are unblinking, lost in the nightmare. The creases of your eyes begin to fill with tears and you feel a scream bubbling up your throat—

A hand on your shoulder brings you back.

You blink, the tears cease. You close your mouth, pushing your hair behind your ear. Turning around, you follow the hand to the body it’s attached too. Confusion flickers on your face, then is replaced by surprise.

It was the girl. Dracula girl.

From the party.

The ‘lady of the night’ that Jungkook chose.

She’s wearing a tight smile, lips painted a light red. It’s a sharp contrast that stands out against her pale, almost ghostly white skin. Though, that’s not what shocks you the most.

No, it’s her eyes.

Her red eyes.

“You’re y/n, right? Jungkook told me about you. Have a moment to talk?”

What the fuck did Jungkook do that night?

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

“No.”

Your voice is hard, resolute. Your hands dig into the fabric of your jeans that are hidden from the top of one of the wooden picnic tables scattered throughout the local park. Your body is shaking, but it’s not from the cold. You refuse to believe what she – Jules – just told you.

It was impossible.

“Yes. It was your roommate. Valerie.”

Memories flash through your mind of the many years you’ve spent being best friends with your roommate, Valerie. She had her weird quirks, sure. Maybe you thought it was a bit strange when she would go out every Halloween by herself and never tell you where she goes. But besides that, she was just your sarcastic, mutual horror enthusiast, slightly odd and reserved best friend. You didn’t think she was capable of murder.

Nonetheless, be the hunter of vampires.

When you met Valerie, it wasn’t too long after the incident. It was at this local hole in the wall two in one book store and cafe called ‘Novels and Noodles’. You were slurping on some noodles when she first walked in. Your eyes flickered to hers for a moment, but then you went back to eating and paying no mind. A seat was open opposite you that she soon took upon herself to occupy, yet still, you didn’t bother attempting small talk. Back then, you became more reserved and cautious of those around you. He being the sole cause of it.

“Have an interest with vampires?”

After one last loud ‘slurp’ of a noodle, you pushed your now empty bowl aside and dabbed your mouth with a napkin before speaking. Bookmarking your page in the book you were reading, ‘Vampires for Dummies’, you then folded your hands on top of it and looked at her, fully.

Her style stood out the most to you. It was very gothic, yet girly. Mainly black, with subtle bursts of color here and there. Kinda like how you liked to dress when you weren’t wearing horror franchise merchandise. She had a few extra piercings in her ears where a small silver, slender dagger hung off a chain from her left ear. A necklace of a silver cross dangled surreptitiously between the exposed cleavage of her breasts due to the low cut neckline of her shirt as she leaned towards you with her elbows on the table, hands flat. A variety of rings were on her fingers, but one always stood out to you, cause it looked like a family crest you would see from the medieval days.

“I do, do you?”

“You could say that. Do you believe in ghosts?”

“I don’t have the ability of seeing them like Cole Sear, but I do believe in the idea of an afterlife.”

“I see dead people.”

You gave a snort at her reference, especially since she made an effort to sound small and scared to recite the line, leaning her body even more towards yours to the point of no longer sitting in her chair and rather fully bending in half over the table so you can hear her whisper it clearly.

She gave a light cackle of laughter as she plopped herself back down in her chair, her smile wide with mischief and eyes full of trouble. It was then that you knew you would get along well. Nothing was suspicious about her then, but now you wish you did ask the question that was on the tip of your tongue. Maybe you wouldn’t be as shocked as you were right now.

Jules atleast had the decency to play the part of a sympathetic human being, but you knew she found the whole thing entertaining, if not for the slight twitch of the curve of her lips that she tried to conceal with her hand over her mouth.

“Can we start at the beginning? Please? Like what the fuck happened the night of Halloween?”

“Well, you know I left with Jungkook.”

“Yes, well aware, thank you. But what happened after that?”

Her once playful demeanor turned into a more closed in one. Her smile dropped, flipping upside down into a frown. Her eyes became hollow as she stared at you, yet right through you at the same time. For a minute, she actually did look human.

“He took me to that cemetery that’s a few streets away, I can’t remember the name–,” her brows furrowed as she genuinely tried to remember it. You decided to help her out.

“Pearly Gates?”

She snapped her fingers, pointing at you to indicate you were right.

“That’s the one. We were–,”

You put a hand up, dumbfounded look on your face.

“Wait, wait, wait. You willingly went with him to a cemetery so late at night? You didn’t see that as some kind of red flag?”

She chooses to ignore you completely in favor of continuing the story. She knows you’re not wrong, she should’ve seen the multiple red flags, but by the time her rose colored glasses were removed – it was too late.

“We were strolling through gravestones for almost 10 minutes, then he made us stop at this above ground mausoleum that was located near the back. I remember thinking the design was so beautiful. It blew my mind the amount of intricate detail that was used on it, even though it was centuries old.”

For a few minutes she got lost in explaining the design in vivid details, and though you agreed with her completely, you were getting impatient.

“Right. Yes. Sounds amazing. And then?”

She pauses midway through her spiel to give you a piercing glare, but obliges your request.

“He had a key. We went inside. We made out. He’s really skilled with his–,”

“I do not need those vivid details, thank you.”

She just shrugs you off with a sinister smirk painted on her lips.

“I thought he was going to leave a hickey with the amount of pressure I was feeling against my neck, but before I knew it his teeth were sinking into me and surprisingly I didn’t care.”

You blanched at her words.

“Uh, what?”

“Honestly? Yeah, it hurts at first. But eventually it just feels so fucking good.” Her voice gradually turns light and airy at the end of her statement, eyes glossing over as if she’s reliving the moment right there in front of you.

A feeling grows within you at her reaction. Jealousy. It was stupid, it was illogical, but there it was. Casually growing within you, and soon, it’ll take over and blossom into a flower of chaos. You’re sure of it. For now, it was but a vine, but as it curls around your insides and slithers it’s way towards your heart, thorns prick and dig in to ensure a home within you.

“That’s when she came. Your roommate. Knocked on the side of the threshold to announce herself, twirling a wooden stake in one hand, and the other was placed on the hilt of what looked to be a knife that was latched in a sheath on her belt loop.”

Her breathing began to pick up, eyes now downcast on the table in front of you. For the first time since she started talking, you felt your own sympathy for the newly turned vampire. She didn’t ask for this, that much was certain. The only question that remained was as to why Jungkook decided to turn her – or rather what occurred to spur the life altering decision.

Offering a moment of solidarity between you both, you place one hand over hers on the table. If she’s consoled by it, she makes no move to show, though she does describe the events in morbid detail.

“She was so fast, aiming the stake for Jungkook. That much so, it didn’t register to either her or I when the stake missed Jungkook, who was gone in a flash it felt like, and instead sunk in right below my breast.”

Your eyes widened. You stayed silent.

“As I looked at her, she showed no remorse. Not an ounce. At least Jungkook had the decency to show some semblance of guilt. Probably why he ended up turning me after their little fight was over and she fled, couldn’t handle the fact that an innocent life was taken in place of his. Whatever it was, as much as I appreciate the gesture of goodwill–,”

Her voice quieted, eyes remained downcast as she spoke her next words with eerie confidence and absolute truth.

“I wish he had just left me to die.”

A sharp inhale could be heard from your end as you squeeze her hand to comfort her in the only way you as a human know how.

“She only used the stake that night, correct? Not the knife?”

She finally tears her gaze from the splintering wood to stare at your curious ones.

“Yes. Just the stake. Why?”

“Fuck.”

You let go of her hand in favor of running yours through your hair anxiously. It causes Jules to now stare at you in curiosity.

“Why are you so worried about the knife, y/n?”

You bite your lip, contemplating on whether or not you can actually divulge such a truth, then think, fuck it.

“There’s a bloody knife hidden in a dusty ass shoebox underneath my bed right now and I have no remembrance of how it came into my possession or why there’s even blood. Safe to say, I’m freaking the fuck out.”

“You think you actually have the gall to murder someone? Or do you believe it’s the same knife as your vampire hunter roommate?”

“The latter, hopefully. But if you didn’t see her use it, that begs the question on if she used it later on that night, or I did.”

“That’s quite the conundrum you’re in, y/n.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Blowing out a puff of glacial air, you glance at the lock screen on your phone that’s been laying on the table next to you the entire time. Not once has it gone off, but when you tap the screen and see Jungkook’s fangy smile, does your heart drop into your stomach.

Working up the nerve, you once again look across into the eyes of Jules.

“Where’s Jungkook?”

Her shoulders raise as she lets out her own puff of air, her body going lax with indifference.

“No idea. Woke up in his house, he gave me some lessons on how to be a good vampire for a couple of days, then left on some kind of quest–,” she puts air quotes up. “–his words not mine. Gave me your address and showed me a picture of you incase I wanted some company that knew about vampires. Then promised he would be back soon and to behave.”

“How did you know the person who attacked you was my roommate then?”

“Oh, he told me. He didn’t sound surprised with her appearance though. It’s like they had some sort of familiarity with each other as they fought. Like they could predict each other’s moves. It was weird.”

“What the fuck.”

You were thoroughly confused. How the hell could they know each other and not tell you?

“That’s what I’ve been saying from the moment I was reborn, as Jungkook so poetically spewed at me.”

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

After your epiphany of a talk with Jules, who swore up and down she wouldn’t go on a killing spree in your small town, you found yourself once again walking back home. Instead of the short, creepy, dark forest route — you opted for the long way home surrounded by various mom and pop outlet stores and eateries.

Big mistake. You should’ve known that being from your small town and daring to venture near a popular hangout strip of said town would promote the dreaded small talk to occur with people you’d rather avoid at the moment.

“Y/N!”

You pretend to not hear the owner of the voice in hopes they’ll leave you alone, picking up your pace. It does nothing to dissuade them from getting closer and using one of their long, lanky, arms to swivel around your shoulder and veer your short frame towards their broad chest. Your feet tangle in the process, and you lean more into the figure in hopes of regaining your footing sooner rather than later.

Their other arm joins the first to fully envelope your body with theirs in a now tight hug, something they’re famously known for. That and–

They pull away enough for you to inhale a good amount of fresh air, before your lips feel a chaste pressure against them. The feeling is light and feathery, then it’s gone just as quick as it arrived. A boxy smile is now taking up your entire line of vision and you internally groan at the male before you, Taehyung — your ex.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, y/n! How’ve you been?”

“Oh, you know. Chilling, killing.”

He lets out an exaggerated bellow of laughter that he leans his whole body backwards to get into. You take the chance to slither out of his hold and gain a few feet of sweet, sweet distance. You purse your lips, only half joking with your statement, since you’re still not sure what the story is behind the bloody knife.

“Ever the horror fanatic. You haven’t changed one bit, y/n.”

“Nope.”

“When Jimin told me that you hung out at a party, I must say, I was very surprised. Never thought you would step foot in one since you didn’t seem interested in them when we were dating.”

Jimin. Right. Though your ex left town years ago, even before the incident, he makes a point to come back every now and then to visit his dear friend. Maybe this meeting can be fruitful for you after all. You just have to endure his touchy, feely personality for a little while longer.

“Yeah, well. You know better than anyone that people change, Taehyung.”

His smile is still present on his face, but it becomes more tight, losing its previous sincerity. He clears his throat and goes to talk when he’s interrupted by another voice you recognize.

“Leave y/n alone, Taehyung. She doesn’t want to hear about your ridiculously expensive travel expeditions.”

You can see Taehyung’s face clearly annoyed when he rolls his eyes at the comment made on his lifestyle. It takes all you have not to laugh, biting your lip to prevent the smile that wanted to make it’s debut at the male’s displeasure. Taehyung turns sideways to make some kind of snarky, yet good natured retort back and thus shows your savior in all his glory.

Min Yoongi. One half of the truth that occurred that Halloween night. Maybe he could help shed some light on the shadowed memories of your mind.

Yoongi makes a point to step inbetween you both, hands firmly tucked into his black windbreaker. His medium length long hair whips back and forth for a moment when the wind kicks up, leaves caressing your feet and ankles due to the strong gust. Some even float across your face that you subconsciously follow with your eyes until it becomes one with the night sky.

It’s not until Yoongi addresses you with a warm hand on your shoulder blade, does your attention get diverted back. Thankfully, Taehyung is long gone, presumably within the confines of one of the many stores around you.

“You feeling okay, y/n?” His voice is both the usual monotone, yet there’s a hint of warmth within the question, as if he’s genuinely concerned with your well being.

It takes you a moment to digest, then repress the urge to lay everything on the poor, unsuspecting guy. He doesn’t need to get dragged into your shitty problems.

“I’m uh, good. Thank you.”

You try to sound convincing, you do. But he sees right through the minuscule tremble in your voice and narrows his almond shaped eyes into yours.

“You’re a terrible liar. You know that?”

A nervous grin appears, and you hug yourself in an attempt to play it off. He was always too keen on reading nonverbal cues, being ever the silent one for as long as you’ve known him. Him preferring to talk with gestures and grunts.

“Did they do anything to you?”

Your brows furrow in confusion, head tilting to the side.

“Who are they?”

“You don’t remember?”

“No…? Should I?”

He runs the hand that was once on your shoulder, now through his silky black hair. He puffs his cheeks for a second, then let’s it go.

“I knew I shouldn’t have let you go with them. But your friend was with them so I thought–,” he scuffles his foot on the wet cobblestone beneath you in aggravation.

“What friend, Yoongi?”

“I’m not good with names, uhm. Veronica? Vicky?”

“Valerie.”

“Her. Yes. She was with these guys who were all dressed in the same black garb and wore this white mask, it was weird. She was the only girl, but didn’t seem intimidated in the least bit by them. And now that I think about it..,”

You may have been physically in front of him, but in your mind you were far away. Men in black, with white masks? The only image that fits that description for you is one from your nightmares. You can feel your heart rate increase, and it takes everything in you not to break down in front of Yoongi.

“…neither did you, y/n. Actually, you went more than willingly. What made me cautious for your safety was the knife that your friend was brandishing so haphazardly in front of your face as she waved bye to us and you all were gone.”

“Knife? Like, a real knife? Not a prop?”

He nods his head in answer before explaining his reasoning.

“Would’ve thought it was fake, had it not been for the glare that caught my eye and reflected back on your face.”

“Huh, that’s quite–,”

“Horrifying?”

“Fun.”

He deadpans at your joke.

“Kidding! It’s all good. I’m alive, aren’t I?”

“Y/N–,”

You take a step back, shooting finger guns at him.

“Gotta jet. But it was nice talking with you. See you around!”

Before he can utter a reply, your figure becomes nothing but a dot in the distance until he loses sight of you completely. He lets out a low exhale, face void of emotion. You didn’t give him the chance to tell you one small, minor, detail from that night.

That right before you left with the group, he could swear that your eyes flashed this mixed shade of your usual color and red.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

“What a fucking day.”

You mumble face down in your pillow as you ungracefully threw yourself on your bed, having finally made it back home to the safe confines of your bedroom without running into anyone else. Not even your roommate, who seems to be out and about, and for that, you’re grateful. Lord knows you’re not good at acting.

“Tell me about it. What took you so long to come back home?”

Your head instantly shoots up and you lock eyes with a welcomed intruder who seems to have made themselves comfortable on your reading nook, a decent sized book held in one hand lazily as he flips the page with a bored expression. His focus is on the words, his eyes moving back and forth as he reads.

“You little shit.”

Your hostile tone is what causes his eyes to flicker to yours in amusement, one brow arching in question. Bookmarking the page, he closes the book gently, laying it on the window sill next to him before slowly standing up to his full height. You scramble to your own feet, standing on the bed.

When he gets close enough, you flying squirrel yourself at him, him catching your body effortlessly. Your legs hook around his waist, arms securing around his neck as you bury your face into his cool skin. Your words are muffled as you speak, and he can’t hear you clearly when you berate him.

“What was that? I don’t speak mumble, y/n.”

His voice is teasing, as he mindlessly and ceremoniously breathes in your comforting scent with closed eyes. Oh, how he’s missed this.

How he’s missed you.

When you break away enough to be face to face with him, he’s surprised to see tears streaming down your face. His once playful exterior turns into one of concern, his mouth opening to question your current state, but there’s no need when you explain in detail what’s been going on the last few days.

He takes it all in, all the while maneuvering you both to your bed where your butt still rests on his closed legs. His hands now find purpose in cupping the sides of your face, his thumbs wiping away the tears as they come. When you finish, and the tears slowly dry, does he speak.

“I guess now is a good time as any to come clean.”

“Jungkook? What do you mean?”

“About your roommate, your best friend, Valerie.”

You don’t miss the way he sharpens his tongue when he says the words, and you wonder if he’s jealous, or just downright loathes her.

“Yes, that would be fantastic.”

“We should get more comfy, it’s gonna be awhile.”

He then goes on to explain how their paths initially crossed. It was long before you ever came into the picture. Back then, she wasn’t alone in her pursuit of him and rather preferred to hunt in a group. Much to your dismay, he confirms Yoongi’s prior description of the people she hangs around with and what they wear. It makes your breathing hitch. He notices, pausing in his rant to make sure you’re okay with him touching on the next subject of your attacker and that traumatic night. All you do is nod. He continues.

When he saw your attacker in the same outfit as the ones who hung out with Valerie, he knew that she must be closing in on his whereabouts. Something, he said, he’s been successful up until this point with concealing. It wasn’t until he caught sight of her with you at the bookstore where you first met her, that he knew positively she was back.

He never in his wildest dreams imagined that she would go so far as to use you to get closer in killing him. He wanted to believe she just wanted to make an honest friend of you, and so he made sure to only come to you on the days she was gone so as not to intervene. So long as she didn’t hurt you, he didn’t see any problems with you maintaining the friendship.

That was, until Halloween night.

She showed up with her usual minions in tow, but what he didn’t expect was for your little red riding hood costume clad figure to be standing next to her, with a knife.

Your eyes widened in horror at his next words.

“…..that’s when you stabbed me, but don’t worry, it can’t kill me obviously. And it’s already healed. What I don’t know is how she was able to control you. That is the mystery I’m currently trying to solve.”

“You’re saying that the bloody knife that I hid underneath my bed has your blood all over it?”

“Yes, but y/n, you have to realize–,”

It physically pains him when you tear yourself away from him as if he’s a raging fire and you just got third degree burns. Even more when you place yourself as far away from him as possible with the guiltiest look on your face he’s ever seen anyone wear.

His eyes soften, and he cautiously gets up to walk close to your shaking form.

“Y/N, love–,”

A broken whimper comes from you, and if he had a heart, it would be split in two at this point.

“It’s not your fault, okay? I don’t blame you, I’m not mad at you. And I’m fine. See?”

He shrugs his jacket off to then unbutton his long sleeved dress shirt. Sliding his right arm out of the material, he showcases his now bare chest to you. You inch closer and he grabs your extended hand to place it on the spot right above his heart. The skin there is flawless, no blemish in sight. Even though your fingers still glide over his cooled skin and you can feel the truth in his words, you believe your eyes are just deceiving you, letting you see only what you want to see in order to keep you sane.

“This is where it went in, and let me once again reiterate that it was. Not. You.”

His hands are on your shoulders, lightly shaking you. His voice is firm, yet soft.

“I know my y/n wouldn’t hurt a fly–,”

“I own a fly swatter and have murdered millions of fly families.”

He ignores you.

“–nonetheless me. Just like I would never hurt you. I’m just sorry I wasn’t there to prevent them from using you.”

“I’m sorry, koo.”

Your voice is small, so small, it’s a good thing he has very good hearing or he wouldn’t have heard your sorrowful apology. It makes his undead heart weep.

“Baby, come here.”

He pulls you taught against his chest and you take solace in his embrace. As he sways you both back and forth, you know you should be focused on solely him, but your mind can’t help but wander to forbidden, repressed territory.

It only makes you press further into him until you both are essentially one, your shaking increasing as well as the sound of your muffled sobs. Later, you’ll apologize for getting his shirt all wet and throw it in the dryer to make dry.

A loud slamming of the front door is what ceases your movement, your breathing. A voice echoes throughout your apartment and your fear only heightens.

“Y/N! You home, girl? I got this new horror movie that just went straight to DVD and plenty of snacks to fill our bellies!”

Her footsteps quiet, before becoming louder as she decreases the distance between the living room and yours. You can even hear the jingle of her metal chain belt she chose to wear today, the clinking only making the weight in your chest that much more prominent.

You and Jungkook look at each other.

Valerie was home, with Jungkook in your room.

Shit.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

taglist; @hoseokteardrop, @thunderstormsandrainbows, @tea4sykes, @slinekyu, @dif-imagines, @thedarkwinterrose, @whipwhoops, @copycat-namjesus, @misteriouskitty, @kakasuka, @angieluvstae, @bangtanxcoffee, @han-nah-banana, @djasheyash99, @bex-92br, @noonas-magicshop, @bobakkoo, @scuzmunkie, @girl8890, @ellavyuubts, @hopeoncrackkk, @jk-190811, @yoongimetita7

I apologize for those I couldn’t tag for some reason, but I hope you still see this somehow.

Anyways, did you expect that twist?? Let me know your thoughts 💭

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