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strong-with-the-sarcasm · 5 months

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Part 12 - it was just for fools

"We were searching for reasons to play by the rules, but we quickly found it was just for fools." -Mary On A Cross by Ghost

Masterlist Part 11

Wonder Woman, with her extensive diplomatic training, was the perfect speaker to bring before the United Nations council.

There was something regal about Diana, something that demanded attention from all genders and ages, her accent smooth and light with eyes hardened with barely concealed anger at what brought her to their door.

The Anti-Ecto Acts.

Diana understood war. There was very little she hadn’t experienced where it concerned the subject, from betrayal to a very personal loss, but now she had another chance to draw from her past.

Prevention of a war.

Only fools would believe a war against the Infinite Realms, the land of the End and death incarnate, that which holds every afterlife for every belief, was winnable.

Every death on humanity’s side, was another solider for the King of the End.

That was yet another point.

The Once and Future Star King, Vanquisher of the Dark, Protector of the Light, Great One…. Was a Protector spirit. The spirit of a child who died wanting to be saved.

Diana sighed, awaiting her fellow heroes in the meeting hall, Black Canary, Superman and Batman (with his ever tiny Robin) were already present. Red Robin was sat with a tablet, reading through a collection of data instead of conversing.

It was almost seven on the dot, the meeting filled with nearly all members of the League, when Constantine portals in with a flask in one hand and a book in the other.

“Not a word.” He grumbles around an unlit cigarette held between his lips, unceremoniously dropping into an unoccupied seat.

Despite the surprise of John Constantine being on time for something, much less a Justice League meeting, Diana had other concerns to deal with.

Namely, the repeal of the Anti-Ecto Acts.

An unexpected summoning was a shard of ice in her spine, twisting like a knife of betrayal in the nerves, utter agony. Jazz had little warning, little time to brace herself before she was hooked behind her navel and yanked.

Thank the Ancients she wasn’t in the shower, because whoever had the audacity to summon the Ghost King was not going to receive an eyeful for their trouble.

Jazz allowed her armor to materialize, a slick sensation of water down her back soothed the lingering pain of the brutal summons, but her back plate soon settled firmly in place and irritated the nerves more so.

Just as her helmet locked into place, sealing her fully into her armor, green smoke announced her arrival with a dramatic flair she couldn’t find humor in.

Rested on one knee, head bowed, the Regent was quite an intimidating sight for the uninitiated.

Her helmet, full coverage with a crown of green shards embedded into its pulsing ebony metal, only allowed the green tint of her eyes to shine through. Once her head lifted, the several shivers her gaze got proved how effective it was at unnerving others.

With a breath, the Regent stood.

“You have tried to summon the King of the End, why?”

John Constantine was many things- a liar, a cheater, a non-believer- but he was certainly not a fool. He’d been against summoning the Ghost King, knowing full well to whom they would be dragging unwilling instead. Somehow the title of Regent failed to comprehend to most present, which was not Constantine’s fault in the slightest.

(Hey, at least he was mostly sober summoning, right?)

(Had to give credit where it’s due.)

Bats was unamused with Constantine’s first warning of ‘Do not fuck with’ when Phantom had first shown himself, but this was ridiculous really. A message was always better than trying to summon the King, who would want to be interrupted right?

Yet again, the Magician was overruled.

(At least he didn’t have to sell his soul this time.)

(The Phantom already gifted the glued together remnants to his Regent.)

(Morbid as it was, at least John knew it was in better hands than some half wit demon he’d scammed.)

No one answered before the Regent spoke with some amusement lacing her words, “I should have known a summon from you, Constantine, would be painful.”

(Was it a good or bad sign that the Regent didn’t immediately call him ‘Sad Trenchcoat man’?)

Diana politely interjected, “Greetings, My Lady. We apologize for the unfortunate experience and will endeavor to do better in future meetings.”

(Good old Diana.)

“Greetings.” The Regent replied, helmeted head slightly tilted as she studied the others present before her, having been ignored for the time being.

Wonder Woman pressed a fist over her heart with a slight bow of her head as she spoke again, “May I introduce the Justice League and it’s founders; Batman, Superman, and myself, Wonder Woman. You are familiar with Constantine, who is a member of Justice Dark.”

“I am the Regent of the Realms, Lady of the Acropolis, you may refer to me as either.” Jazz intoned, serious as was only right for her titles. “I’ll ask once more… Why.”

Constantine, despite the familiarity he held with Phantom, shivered in the presence of the Regent. The owner of his soul could command he turn on his allies, zap away his free will with only a few words. Sure, he had some doubts that the Regent would, but that doesn’t mean she couldn’t. The AEA proved that the Infinite Realms had every right to declare war on the Living and its citizens would be drafted to fight in the Legion, regardless of mortality status.

John was many things- a liar, a cheater, a non-believer- but he was not a soldier or a fool.

He would be called to arms, as a magic user and battle-blooded soldier. There would be no choice, no deal he could make that would see his fate change.

It was fortunate that the Regent didn’t want a war, but there was only so much she could do to hold back the growing tide of angry entities that wanted vengeance on parents, siblings, and children taken from them.

(Ancients above and below, he needed a drink.)

It was times like this that brought the Regent back to her long days of training in the Acropolis. The echo of steel against steel, dodging ecto-blasts, deflecting weapons with her bracelets, Pandora’s steady words…

Pandora was many things- Leader of the Acropolis, Guardian of Hope, teacher, advisor, so on and so forth.

Pandora might be a ghost, an Amazon tasked with guarding her box, a Warrior of the ages past, but she was ultimately the Ancient of Peace.

The Peace she never knew in life, war-hardened as she was. Raised with one hand clutching a weapon and the other an open palm, Pandora was a diplomat at heart. War had not been kind to her, but still, she taught her pupil (the Regent) the importance of listening.

Many issues could be solved when one took the time to shut their mouth.

Draw weapon, draw blood.

Aim at nothing you’re not willing to destroy.

If your opponent believes they have the upper hand, break it.

(These are just a few rules of war.)

(She knew them all by heart.)

(Each one ingrained on her body, scars a testament to a faith in her training and herself.)

The only rule Pandora had given her where to concerned Peace was this:

Reach for it, but know that hearts aren’t so easily swayed as minds.

It was why Jasmine never bothered trying to negotiate with the GIW. Their hearts were black and there was no changing their minds.

Here she was, summoned by the Justice League with their own diplomatic trained Amazon at the ready. Pandora would be proud of her sister-in-arms, because despite the Regent’s unknown threat potential Wonder Woman had not reached for the sword at her side. Instead, she’d done a traditional Amazon greeting, from one warrior to another, a sign of respect that Jasmine had not expected to ever receive outside the Acropolis.

“We had expected to summon the King, but were unaware of a Regent, my lady.” Wonder Woman spoke, but Constantine interrupted whatever she would have said next.

“We wanted to discuss the possibility of war against the living, Regent.”

Jasmine snorted, the voice-modulating function of her helmet made it sound funny to her ears, “Blunt as always, Constantine. You’re worried I would order you against your allies?”

The Sad Trenchcoat Man blinked once, twice, “Bloody Hell, you don’t waste time, do ya?”

“You possess the power to command Constantine?”

That question had come from Lady Gotham’s first Knight, steady with no discernible emotion in voice. His hands were resting on his utility belt, which was a bad sign of his current judgment of her character.

“For the sake of honesty, yes, Dark Knight, as the keeper of his Soul Remnants, I could command the Magician to do my bidding.” The Regent continued, “However, it was a gift and Phantom is fond enough of the Sad one that I wouldn’t use it unless I had no other choice.”

“What would constitute ‘no other choice’?”

Huh, Jasmine was starting to understand why Phantom chose Batman to give the Ghost Files too. She could feel the determination and protectiveness radiating off his soul, a familiar (though less powerful) sensation she only got from her little brother.

“War.” The Regent retorted, “I’m beginning to understand why Phantom would choose you, Knight.”

Constantine perked up a bit, “Didn’t you avenge him?”

“Yes.”

Wonder Woman came forward again, “My Lady, we wish to discuss the conditions of Peace between the Living and the Infinite Realms.”

Jasmine smiled a bit sadly, though no one could see it, “I would be honored to.”

If anyone asked, Red Hood did not swoon when he witnessed his future wife girlfriend kick a man straight in the balls so hard he saw God.

Jazz was a beacon during a Gotham night, beautiful red hair seeming to catch fire with every light that danced across it, shoulders back and head held high his girl resumed her steady pace towards her apartment. This was a typical night for them, minus the would-be mugger and Jazz being unaware of the Red Hood following from above to make sure she got home safely.

(Jason hadn’t been able to convince her to carry a gun.)

(Nonetheless, he knew his girl could take care of herself, but that didn’t stop the worry.)

Hood wasn’t convinced about the safety of the area bordering his Alley, The Ridge, with two relatively unknown metas acting as it’s Vigilantes and seeming to drive down the crime rate in the neighborhood to near extinction faster than he’d seized control of his own territory. It was odd that the metas weren’t crossing into the Alley, seeming to go around it and more into Gotham proper when they decided to roam, as if they respected the Red Hood claim more than the other bats.

(Wasn’t that just a hoot.)

(Two non-bats had more respect for him than his own family.)

The Ridge was the lesser known little brother to Crime Alley, with its residents being mostly three-jobs and a drug problem demographic, but with Phantom and Regent the area had begun to show a bit more life. Sure, most of the builds were on the wrong side of dilapidated, hanging on with duct tape and a wad of gum, but when it was just bright out enough- no matter the time of day- Phantom’s ice can be seen glinting from miles around as it curved itself around foundations and floors to stabilize the structures. It hadn’t melted in the slightest the two months since it’s been formed. Hood had even tried to get a sample for testing, but the ice would not budge. Hell, he’d even taken a cheap shot at it- nothing. Well, except for the fact that you could now see a bullet encased within the ice.

Phantom was a chill guy, apparently.

(Hood internally groaned at the unintentional pun.)

(Quick mental note made to shoot Dick in… well, the dick.)

Red Hood had been gritting his teeth against the warm sensations of protect-anxiety-nervous for days, sensing danger every time he closed his eyes. Something had invaded Gotham and was messing with the Pit.

No, not the Pit. The Pit was gone, no longer bubbling in his gut or green edging his vision, it was gone and replaced with something else.

Something that gave him trouble, but was definitely a step up from Pit Madness.

(And what a time for it to vanish, with Jason dating Jazz no more bloody nightmares when she was in his arms.)

He’d followed that ball of anxiety in his chest across Gotham, unconsciously avoiding Bruce’s usual patrol route and he climbed up to one of the gargoyles that kept vigil over the clock tower. Barbie hadn’t opened the comms to ask him what the hell are you doing here, but he wasn’t going to waste what little time he had with Phantom before he had to return to the Alley.

The kid wasn’t older than Tim, but was ethereal in his form that felt cold to Hood. There wasn’t any sign that Phantom had been hurt by the Drs. Fenton, but Hood was all too aware of how looks could be deceiving.

(The fuckers had vivisected him.)

With every word passed between them, had Hood confirming the Ghost Files information to be accurate as far as Phantom was concerned. He was a teenager, a ghost in Gotham who was under the protection of the Regent and Ghost King.

(Though incredibly corrupted, Barbara had been able to find a few frames of clarity.)

(Lo and behold, the death of those bastards.)

(He knew he recognized the armored figure, but couldn’t figure it out.)

(It was right there on the tip of his tongue.)

That same ball of anxiety loosened its hold with Phantom, a sense of protect-worry overwhelmed whatever else was in his chest.

Phantom was a kid, ghost or not, vigilante or not.

(No more dead robins.)

It took two days and twelve hours for Jason to finally connect the dots between Regent and why in Hell he felt he knew the armored knight.

Jazz was in her kitchen, hair braided and swinging back and forth against her back as she hummed and swayed in time with the soft music playing. His girl looked good in his Gotham Knights t-shirt, shorts revealing her toned thighs and legs, neckline of her borrowed shirt riding low enough to reveal several hickies he’d left on her earlier on the couch. Pride warmed his chest as he watched his darling Jazz, love for her settled deep into his bones. He knew she was the one for him, no going back, even if she didn’t know everything about him-Red Hood, his death, etc.

Jazz was made of steel and iron, forged with love and cracked with betrayal. Who had betrayed her in the past was obvious, her parents, their death must’ve been a mixed bag. Not to mention making the decision to allow their souls to be claimed by the Regent of the Infinite Realms.

He had no doubt she would be unafraid of his nighttime persona, but he didn’t think he could handle her judgment of his past sins. He loved her too much and wanted to be good.

The music stopped, dragging Jason out of his thoughts to find Jazz watching him with concern plain on her face.

“Jace?” She lightly called for him, helpless to her he rose and gently wrapped her in his arms, her head tucked comfortably under his chin.

“I’m ok, Jazz, just have a lot on my mind.”

His girl hummed lightly, the sound vibrating slightly through Jason’s chest where her head rested.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“They’re not worth that much.”

Jazz pinched his side in retaliation for his lightly self-demeaning comment, but ultimately let it go. Another reason he loved her, she didn’t tolerate his bullshit. She’d been horrified to hear his comments about his self-worth, as much as he was joking, and had firmly threatened to punt his ass into the sun if he didn’t start getting a better self-image.

To his credit, he listened and began seeing Harley for counseling, which he knew he’d needed when he’d finally gotten a working braincell again after his dip in the line green Kool-aid. He’d put it off long enough, believing that the Pit wouldn’t let him remain calm enough to discuss his abandonment issues and mental health.

The Pit wasn’t churning in his gut anymore so any anger he felt was all Jason’s, and Jason’s alone. It was oddly satisfying to know that he was once again responsible for how he handled his anger.

Jazz never really demanded anything, only insisting on some boundaries at the start of their relationship when it was difficult to keep his hands to himself while she was in his sight. His darling was the same this why she set those boundaries so they could get to know each other without it just devolving into sex.

Sure, they have done some heavy petting and Jason definitely liked leaving his mark on her, but they hadn’t felt compelled to go further. Now that they had been together a little over a month the heat between them settled into a slow summer in his blood, no more threat of them acting like a pair of degenerate dumbasses with lesser brain function.

Not that Jason would ever be against having sex with Jazz, he loved her and wanted to know her in every sense, but he had to confess several things before he could allow himself to be put off guard with his pants down. The big Y-incision scar on his chest was horrific and Jason didn’t want to scare his girl away before he had a chance to come clean. He wanted, no, needed Jazz to accept every part of him- life, death, Jason and Red Hood. He was ready for her to know the truth.

What he wasn’t ready for, like last time, was the bomb.

A/N: Yes, beta read by @meditating-cat! Great beta reader, really appreciate the quick response and notes. Thanks!

We're gonna have a bit of a time jump between the summoning and the cliffhanger, which means that Jazz being summoned happens after. I wrote it this way for a reason... I think. Don't quote me on that.

Anyways, special red tint this time, because I just watched Death in the Family for the first time before writing this part and...I didn't like it. No, I'm not sure why I don't either. Jason is my favorite character for a reason.

Now, if you'll excuse me I'm gonna go read Wayne family adventures to make myself feel better.

Thanks for reading!

PS: 3k words???

#dp x dc #dp x dc au #dpxdc #jazz fenton #dc x dp crossover #regent!jazz #jason todd #anger management ship #hardcover ship #jazz x jason #cliffhanger #i couldn't resist #*points at jazz* this badass can hold so much angst #*points at Jason* this simp can hold so much angst #Yes beta we live like Jason Todd!#wonder woman #john constantine #constantine may be an idiot but he's not stupid

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toyastales · 8 months

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Well damn ...

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abybweisse · 6 days

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Ch211, Spoilers part 3

When will we ever find out if the kids can flood the facility, destroy it in some other way, or even save anymore of the children? Not this month, and probably not for several months to come.

Because we get a cliffhanger, just like at the end of Baldo and Lau's mission. 😭

We return to Lau's Opium den, where their clothes have been repaired and cleaned, so Seb is removing the Chinese outfit he'd borrowed and putting on his usual butler's uniform. Sorry, but there's no fan service for the Seb simps, unless you are into what's not shown... or gloved hands.

Ran-Mao and other ladies from the establishment show up with several boxes of clothes and at least one box with a hat, maybe two. One hat is from Lock & Co. Hatters, on St. James Street, in London. The rest comes from Hopkins, so that means Nina's still helping them.

They need fresh clothes for their upcoming mission to the resort hotel in Brighton. Sebastian goes to his young master's room to get him ready for travel. Our earl asks something about the clothes from Nina. Or about Nina herself.

I don't know what all they say, but Sebastian does point out that the kid's current outfit reeks of opium (which would never do for where they are headed).

So, time to change clothes. I think we've seen scenes like this a few times throughout the series. It's very methodical and almost ritualistic. In a way, for demon and master, it is a sort of ritual, though.

Are his short pants slightly longer now? 🤔

And off they go.

So! It looks like we are going to Brighton next month, after all.

I was right we'd get the kids struggling to reach the river. Anyone who guessed we'd cut to our earl and Sebastian starting their mission was also right.

A whole new scenery next month.

But when will we ever get back to Finny... or Baldo?

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jasmines-library · 6 months

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Blood Bag

WHUMTOBER DAY 11 - prompt: captivity.

Fandom: Supernatural.

Summary: you are captured by a group of vamps whilst on a hunt. They take their time trying to kill you, draining you of your blood in an old warehouse. For the Winchesters, it’s a race against time to reach you before something fatal happens.

Warnings: Captivity, blood, blood draining, vampires, near death experience, pain, gore.

Word count: 1.5k

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

The door was bolted shut. Three golden padlocks sat on fat silver chains that lay across the door, strung across the frame like bunting. You stared at it from where you sat with matching locks confining you to a chair in the middle of the room like some sick form of friendship bracelet. There was no light entering the room besides the slither that managed to squeeze out from under the door and from the square window made of frosted glass on the metal door. It was what allowed you to see the glint of the metal on the door. Consisting of only thick, concrete walls ridden with rot, the room was barely 8 x 8, but with no windows you felt as though the room around you never ended.

The gag was thick in your mouth. It tasted of oil laced chemicals and dried blood. You tried to spit it out but it was tied together firmly, much like your hands and your ankles. Whoever had you was experienced and you were truly and utterly trapped.

You weren’t quite sure how it happened. One second you were on a supply run, grabbing food to bring back to the Winchesters who were cooped up in the motel, and the next there was a heavy blow to your head and you woke up here, tied helplessly to piece of furniture in the middle of who knows where unknowing of what time it was or how long you had been missing.

The locks on the chains rattled before landing in a heap on the floor and the door flung open to reveal a pale looking woman with blond hair that cascaded over her right shoulder. Something about her face was forbidding.

The blond eyed you greedily, stepping towards you. Her heels echoed in the silence of the concrete cell as she leaned in close, trailing her long nails along your jaw. You tried to pull away but weren’t very successful.

“Isn’t this a nice surprise?” She mocked. “The Winchester’s little bitch. I had to say when we saw you all alone it was far too tempting. Far too easy.”

She laughed an evil laugh as you tried to speak, only for your words to be muffled by the foul tasting gag. She reached around you and untied it. You spat it from your mouth.

“You’re a dead woman.”

She hummed, baring her teeth. They were needle-like and protruded like a thousand knives from her jaw. Vampire. “No, honey. But you will be. See, when we heard there were hunters in the area we were on high alert. We began to stock up. When you killed one of our own… well. That changed things, didn’t it? But now, oh now the tables have turned.”

She moved, stalking around the chair. Gripping your hair, she yanked your head back sharply, tilting it to the side. She pressed her face into the side of your neck breathing in the scent of your blood beneath your skin. You could feel her breath on your neck as she murmured. “We are going to have so much fun together.”

It was then that she sank her teeth into your neck. You howled, consumed by a relentless, excruciating agony. You squirmed in her grip struggling to press away, but she only sunk her teeth in deeper, eliciting another painful response. You thought you were going to black out as the blond kept draining you of your blood, almost drunk on the taste. But then, she slipped her fangs out from your skin, agonisingly slowly. When she dropped her hold on your head, it lolled against your chest. She wiped away the blood that smeared across her lips like chapstick and looked at you again with that sick smile.

“Oh, Yes.” She beamed. “They’re going to have to have so much fun with you.”

“Go fuck yourself.” You spat at her, craning your head to narrow your eyes and snarl at her.

Once again, she just laughed and moved towards the door.

“Remember to scream all you want, No one will find you here.”

~~~

You weren’t sure how long it had been since the first woman left. Your head throbbed and your neck was sticky with your own blood. Your whole body felt weak; like someone had turned down a dial on your body to dull all of your senses. It hurt to keep your eyes open despite the darkness of the room. They felt so heavy that the idea of lifting weights seemed easier than trying to force them open.

Once the woman had left, two more vampires crept into the room. One a short man who wore a green hoodie around his waist, the other an older woman with a pinched face. You had tried to fight against them, but with your already weakened body and with the chains keeping you frozen solid, you stood no chance. And so you were subjected again to the bitter pain on their fangs as they sliced into your neck. By the time they were done and had left your neck in a bloody pulp. you had succumbed to the numbness of unconsciousness.

Unsure how you managed to drag yourself from beneath the bliss of nothingness, your eyes forced themselves open. Your neck burned as you surveyed the claustrophobic room. The chains on the door had been chucked in a pool on the floor, though the door was still sealed shut. It was almost as though they had been removed in a hurry.

A round of gunshots drew your attention to what was happening outside in the hallway. There was a loud raucous accompanied by the howling of the bloodthirsty vamps. You weren’t sure how many there were in the pack to begin with, but from the rumble on the other side of the door, you were sure they were beginning to drop like flies.

“Sam! Dea-“ your hoarse cries were cut off by a heavy hand around your mouth. The clanking of your binds stilled as you froze.

“Quiet.” He barked in a hushed tone. The figure moved to untie the chains around you. Given normal circumstances, you would have taken this as a chance to grasp the guy and gut him, but your body refused to move as your vision doubled.

He hauled you to your feet, wrapping his arm around your neck to not only support your dead weight, but to use you almost like a human shield. There was a harsh banging on the door which ceased almost as suddenly as it had started when the door came flying open. In its frame, you managed to make out the lumbering frames of the Winchester brothers equipped with machetes. Sam paled at the sight of you, kicking himself for not being able to reach you sooner, for letting you go out alone.

When they took a step forwards the grip around you tightened. The man behind you stiffened. That was when you realised he had a knife pressed to your neck.

“Ah ah.” He chided. “Not another step.”

The two brothers stopped abruptly. Dean kept his eyes fixated on the vampire before him, narrowing them to try and hide the worry within them.

“Get away from her.”

The vamp tutted. “No. I think I quite like it here.”

“We killed your nest. Not her. This is between you and us.” Sam told him.

“Hmm. I suppose.” He removed the knife from the front of you neck momentarily, but then tilted your head once again, revealing the mess of bloody flesh beneath it which caused Sam to stifle a gasp, before running the point of the blade down the side of your neck. “But I like this much more.”

You whined at the pinch on your skin, but your body had gone numb. You hated being in this position. Compromised.

“You know what I’m gonna do once I kill too and get out of here?” He hummed, trailing his finger down your open wound, collecting the blood on his finger and licking the crimson from the digit. “I’m going to keep your little friend as my own personal blood bag, drain her nice and slow so that she feels her life slipping away from her. Hunter blood on tap. What else could anyone ask for? And then, when she’s on the brink of death…I’ll turn her.”

“No!” Dean charged suddenly, catching the vamp off guard.

He stumbled backwards, his grip faltering. Without another supporting your body weight, you dropped to the floor with a sickening thud. You were barely aware of the toppling of the vamps head as your eyes dropped closed.

“Y/N?” Dean shook your shoulders firmly. He was kneeling over your limp body. “Y/N?”

You whimpered quietly.

“Open your eyes sweetheart.” Dean begged. “Please.”

He had begun to sound so far away as you drifted in and out. His voice began to morph with Sam’s as you lost sense of everything. His words began to sound like a blur of noise, until eventually, you drifted far enough away that you stopped hearing them at all.

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

<- DAY TEN ⛤ DAY TWELVE ->

🏷️ Taglist:

@senjoritanana

@deans-spinster-witch

@amaryllis23

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pursuitseternal · 2 months

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“Cleansing:” bathing smut and surprises in “Our Blood is Thicker”

Astarion x Named Tav (F!OC) | E | 4.6K of the calm before the storm

Summary: Securing rooms at the Elfsong was the easy part. The harder part, overcoming the wash of memories from their separation before. They both need a good cleansing, one where they will indulge each other.

CW: angst, banter, bathing handjobs, I was told to “let them fuck like rabbits” which is implied, one more memory flashback, and danger.

Previous ch | ao3 link | Masterlist

Chapter 16: Cleansing…

💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞

“Does it… have to be here?” Cordehlia turned her cute little nose up at the smell in the tavern. To the rest of her party, it just seemed like she didn’t enjoy a stay at a public inn.

To Astarion, now he knew, it was sheer loathing, disgust, and almost a century of pain this place forced her to confront.

The Elfsong.

“Gale said the keeper is giving us the rooms for free, since we…” Shadowheart whispered behind her hand, all sneaky, “know about the murder upstairs…”

“It seems cheap here,” she shrugged beneath her armor. “Seedy, disreputable.”

“Sounds like you’re describing your intended, Cordehlia,” Gale taunted with that friendly smile. Even though it didn’t meet his eyes. Still that lingering jealousy and doubt she knew.

“Please,” Astarion laughed off the slight even as he put his arm around his love’s shoulders. “I was the son of a High Lord once, Gale,” he grimaced at the name on his tongue. “Cordehlia’s right, however, a place for disreputable debauchery and plotting, the Elfsong,” he laughed with a wave of his elegant hand. “We will all fit right in, I’m sure. Besides, we can't beat the price, and I won’t be sleeping on the streets.”

“Well,” Gale grinned again, perhaps a bit forced, “Can’t argue with that. Keeper said up the stairs.”

The party moved ahead, barely noticing that Cordehlia lingered back, rigid in Astarion’s arm. “Why here…” she huffed. “Won’t the keeper recognize his regular?” she hissed with spite.

“Darling, I haven’t hunted here for decades. It’s not even the same innkeeper.” He placed a kiss on her temple, feeling how her jaw clenched. “Maybe it’s time we make some pleasant memories here… together,” he purred right into her pointed ear, tracing up its delicate point with a feathery touch of a single digit.

She giggled at the tickling touch. “Fine,” she huffed. “But don’t expect me to spread my legs so easily. You’ll need to work for it if we stay here, my love. You have many years to make up for, you know.”

“Oh I know,” he smirked, one hand sliding to pull her in for a kiss by gripping the curve of her ass. “I am well aware of that fact, and that you will never let me forget it, my darling.”

He followed her up the tavern stairs, letting her slip from his arm’s hold. Lungs burned as he held his breath, worried and plagued with his old memories of his place. He tried to force them back down in the dank dungeon where he kept all those feelings from his centuries of torment. From all the targets, victims, hazy moments of disgust he had endured. He could swear it made his undead heart rap with dread. Calmly, slowly he stilled his breath, even as it grew more rapid and ragged as he climbed those same fucking stairs as he had a thousand times before.

This time was different, instead of trailing after some miserable wretch, some target, all he could see was the sway of Cordehlia’s hips and the way her ratted, unkempt, fiery red hair matched that rhythm down her back.

That made the panic subside.

As long as he had her, he would survive this.

The hall opened to a massive suite, a grand chamber filled with a dozen beds and every amenity. It was off limits to the likes of him before; he had only ever been here once, fortunately not on Cazador’s business. That night was fuzzy in his mind, a jumble of fear and exhilaration he recalled, slipping in the shadows with his contraband before being compelled back to the palace. A few moments to himself to steal a moment of respite…

Shaking his mess of curls, he followed Cordehlia towards a corner bed, one tucked away at least a bit, a few slatted screens here and there for privacy.

He smirked as she set her pack down, her toned shoulders rolling themselves out finally relieved of its weight. So graceful and lithe, she made quick work of her armor, dropping back a step at last to see him waiting at the foot of the bed.

“Make yourself comfortable,” she gestured to the massive collection of rooms.

But he only slipped his bag from his shoulder, dropping it on the mattress beside her from a great height.

Letting it fall, his claim to her space.

“Oh, my love,” she tugged its great weight over the covers with effort, “this one is mine…”

“But darling,” he grinned, snatching the bag from her hold and letting it rest at their feet, “what’s yours is also… mine.” Growling that last word, he swept her in his arms, pushing her back into the feathered bed. She yelped and giggled as she fell to his attack, his thin elven armor flexible enough for him to cover every inch of her unbound body. He kissed her, there in front of them all, pushing her legs apart even covered in the light metal that clung to his frame. Her hands dug at the bare skin at his nape, lips dancing with his, all in time with the buck of her hips.

“Insatiable minx,” he rasped between her pumping lips. “Why do you pretend?”

“I’m not, my love,” she chuckled, “you can have the neighboring bed…”

He hissed at that, caging her into the bed all the harder. Mouth trailing quickly to her neck, he sucked on the supple flesh, the skin already scarred from his fangs, bringing her blood to pump there all the faster before he…

“Ah,” she moaned, her skin giving way to teeth, sending her right to the edge of her climax in an instant. He sucked loudly, lapping and popping his lips from her flesh just to draw attention.

“For fucks sake, get a room!” Karlach guffawed from across the space.

“We have one,” Astarion laughed, sarcastic and dark as he raised his blood-drenched face to speak. “You just happen to be in it.”

“In all reality…” Cordehlia pushed her palm against his turned cheek, shoving him up with all her might. “You stink, my love.” She laughed, managing to lift him only slightly from her frame. “You need a good cleansing bath.”

“Tch,” he huffed and frowned in indignation. “I would never say such a thing, even if it were true.”

She scowled, “How loving of you…” Teasing, with just that hint of sarcasm behind it, she doubled her effort, a smile on those rosy lips of hers before she braced against his neck and lifted.

Crimson eyes wide, Astarion smiled wickedly in return. Obeying. Relenting as he raised himself from her body, his own muscles ached to return, taught with the need to do what they always had done in this tavern, longing to fuck her until she was incoherent, this time for pleasure and not from coercion.

But instead he huffed, sliding the plates of his armor off, watching her bare feet tread across the wood floorboards. He could smell her, as he said. But it was more than pleasant. That scent of her sweat, the way her arousal’s musk instantly filled his nose the moment he bit into her neck…

But first, he gathered himself, glancing around to ensure a moment of privacy before he adjusted his growing erection at her scent still in his nose. “Fucking hells,” he groaned as he dug out of his pack to get his cleanest clothes, all the way at the bottom of his bag. Finally, he fought with all the trinkets and loot in his sack to pull out a fresh set of trousers, when something heavy landed on the floor with a thud. One delicate hand reached to gather it up next to his feet, the green, leather bound tome right in her pale palm.

Cordehlia narrowed her eyes at the title embossed on the side in gold. “The Curse of the Vampyre?” she scanned the book and then locked those silver eyes with his, questioning, mischievous and suspicious. “Some light reading while I bathe?”

“Just a little research, darling,” he slipped it from her grasp to tuck it in with his clothing.

“How to kill Cazador?” she speculated, turning to head towards the now-steaming tub in the side of the room. That look she threw him from over her shoulder sent an instant shudder of warm desire to his groin.

“I think I’ll follow my instincts on that one, my love,” he chuckled, dark and tickled with the promise of violence. “No, no,” he hummed as they stopped at the side of the tub, watching as she closed the slat-screen separator, just a bit of privacy despite the wash of voices that floated around the suite. “I’m just… preparing for what it might be, between the two of us.”

Cordehlia slipped from her trousers, that hem of her undershirt barely covering that sweet apex of her thighs. Astarion swallowed the huffing moan he could have made. “Hmm,” she tossed him a smirk before turning her back on him. That little cream shift tugged up over her head as she let her voice lilt and flirt, “and what might that be for us? An eternity in love as Mistress Cordhelia Ancunín?”

“Close, my darling,” he set his clothing in a jumbled mess at his feet. The clean ones, too. And Cordehlia rolled her eyes as she watched him. Arms crossed over her bare breasts, she gave him a rueful yet desirous smile. He made no extra show, tugging his ruffled shirt off from over his one head, juggling the book between his grip. “You see, there’s a difference for a Vampire Lord in the creation of their servants or equals, whoever they should choose to make their own… to make them powerful like them…”

“Whatever fits their fickle, half-formed plans?” she taunted, stepping herself into the water, dunking her long, gnarled hair into the water.

Suddenly, tenderly, two hands fished her long hair from the water. Cordehlia turned slightly, his smirking face grinning with total mischief as he used those skilled hands of his to work the snarls from the end of her hair. A little rose scented oil on the tips of his fingers, and he worked them each out. No noise but the rasp of his breath down the back of her neck as he leaned over the tub. Warm water barely heated his touch, the pads of his touch brushed her cheek. Her head leaned into his palm, but a gasp from her lips slipped out as she felt his other hand close around her breast. His teeth scored over the sensitive shell of her ear, a whispering laugh tickling the inside. “Who’s to say I would be fickle… or have half-formed plans, if I were a Lord?”

A fang dragged over the soft curve of her earlobe, making her sigh, half-swallowed as her back arched at the sensation. “So… if you turn… if you can ascend, that’ll make you…?” she whispered, voice thick in that milk white throat of hers as she turned, water splashing in that tub as she swiveled.

“Lord Astarion….” He sighed, an intense and dreamy look in the dark red of his eyes. “Vampire Ascendant.”

“Is that what’s in your book, my dear? Is that what you’ve been researching?”

“No,” he rasped, standing as he slowly brought his hands to the waistband of his leathers. Pale fingers slipped the small buttons barely holding it closed free one at a time. “If you can’t tell… it’s you and your wellbeing that’s on my mind, darling…” Hands tugging that flap apart, his cock sprang free, and he couldn’t help but give a low, rumbling chuckle as she bit her lip at its sight.

Cordehlia slid over a smidge, her own lithe fingers massaging through her damp hair. Silver eyes were locked on his every move, the way he slipped from those leather pants, the way he slowly sank into the waters beside her.

The way his own right fang peeked out as he chewed his lip and wrapped his arms around her body at last. “I’ve never met one before, never even heard aside from rumors of their existence among my kind. They are rarely created, the perfect match for a Vampire Lord, the perfect threat to them too. But they say there is no greater love than a trusting Lord and his loving… Bride.”

She shivered in his arms, shaking her whole body despite the swirling steam that surrounded them.

“That’s what you want… isn’t it?” he purred right into the folds of her ear again, a single hand stealing underwater to run down her belly. “To be mine… forever?”

Her mouth opened, he could hear it, feel it in her jaw, but no noise came out but breath. Not until he slunk two fingers between her thighs, finding the even warmer, wetter slick that gathered there.

Her legs bent under the water, feet braced on the side of the cloth and wood of the tub. But he slowed his hand, dragging a single fingertip, a single nail even, over that hard little clit of hers. “You have to tell me, darling, if you will be mine… no matter what…”

Her hand reached behind her, clawing into the mess of his own damp curls and slotting her body between his own clenching legs. “You know my answer. It’s the same. It’s unchanging. Constantly beating yes when it comes to you, Astarion, for two-hundred years.”

“I’m so pleased to hear it,” he hissed, gratifying the little bucks of her hips by sinking his long fingers deep inside her channel. “Best keep it quiet though, I would hate to offend the rest of our group’s sensibilities…”

“You would love to give them offense,” Cordehlia snarled back, pulling him by his hair to whisper back in his own ear. Giving him just what he gave her. “You would love to make me give little whimpers, make me moan your name just loud enough to have one of them chastise you, hmm?”

“For what?” he growled back, starting to pick up his pace as he stroked her and crooked his touch inside her. “For being the consummate lover I am? For making you, the great warrior, whine for me, my little pet and darling?”

A hand reached behind her, her fist closing firmly around his cock, making a noise not unlike a moan come from his own throat through his gritted teeth.

“So are you going to share your research…” she pumped him, hard in grip and slow in measure, as she rode his fingers. A smile on her face. “Going to tell me more about what you think might happen?”

“Three bites,” he panted, those fingers of his working inside her, determined to make her squeal and come first. “And then… I drink you almost dry…” His voice in her ear is feral, more monster than man, and Cordehlia shivered, rapture taking hold at his touch and words and… all of him.

“Go on…” she murmured, voice thick in her throat, even as he hand gripped tighter and sloshed more water as she tried to keep up with his own fingers fucking inside her.

“I give you my blood, letting it fill you and make you mine. They say it will be far more pleasurable than anything you have ever… ever… experienced.” He panted, her thumb sweeping right over that spot only she knew, beneath the dip of his head. His thighs clenched, his balls tightened. “Gods,” he groaned, too close now to back down.

“And then I would be your Bride?” she replied, trying so hard to sound perfect and calm, hiding her own approaching pleasure with a pressed and quiet tone.

He held his breath, scoring a nail over that patch inside her, the one he knew always pushed her, careening towards her climax. “Yes,” he finally ground the single word out, definitely louder than he had hoped. “You’ll be your own being, your own set of powers linked to mine. We will walk in the sun, share our minds, share every bit of pleasure and … pain.” He whimpered loudly, too loudly, as she tugged and fondled him mercilessly.

A knock sounded on the divider, Shadowheart’s lyric voice only a bit muffled from the other side. “Can you hurry it up? The longer you take, the longer the rest of us poor peasants need to wait until it’s our turn…. And we obviously need to get fresh water now…”

“Shut up,” he growled, that hand on his cock not slowing a second even as their moment was invaded.

“Shh, play nice,” Cordehlia corrected him, hand leaving his shaft for a moment to clutch those smooth, hard balls in her palm, tight and ready to burst any second now. “Two people in one tub deserve twice as long, logically. Give us five more minutes.” She called so politely.

Their cleric huffed and stamped away, but not before her fingers stroked that flushed, fleshy head in their touch. Once, twice more, she pulsed that grip and stars covered his vision. Coils of heat burst inside him, spurts of cum sullying the water, and best of all, her own cunt flared and clenched in time. Her freehand flew to her mouth, covering it tightly to not make a sound. But he had her, the extra oily slick of her arousal shot around his fingers, her thighs shaking in the water as she bucked out her climax on his touch. And just when she neared the supple pleasure after, fangs sliced into her.

Her shoulder was pierced once, twice, three times. Nips in rapid succession until the final one. That, Astarion let his teeth sink fully into the crook of her shoulder, savoring the sweet, almost floral bouquet of her blood on his tongue. Filling his belly.

Her head rested back against his chest, body limp and warm. A comforting weight against where his heart would have beat, a sad smile on his lips as he released from her neck. Tenderly, he didn’t want to disturb her, he nuzzled into her damp red hair. As he breathed in, that rose-scented oil barely masked her own floral scent.

He didn’t want to disturb her, but maybe she needed to know….

“There’s a bit more to the Dark Kiss… umm the way that a Bride is made…” He trailed off as she turned. Her face was lined with confusion as she wrapped her legs around him in the water, looking hopeful, worried, waiting on his every word.

Astarion sighed. “It’s a bit dangerous,” he continued at last. “Once you wake to feed for the first time, you… you won’t be yourself. You will be feral, ravenous,” he paused, realizing the weight of his words, “dangerous. I’ll have to subdue you to make sure we both remain safe…”

“Alive you mean,” Cordehlia nodded, sage and slow as his meaning took hold. She looked over his shoulder, eyes distant as she thought for a moment. “More than anything, Astarion, I trust you.”

He closed his eyes and pressed his lips tighter, hiding the way tears stung behind his eyelids and the way his jaw wanted to tremble.

“Besides,” she shifted closer to him, running a hand down the ridges of his belly to grip him by the balls again. “You will love the chance to subdue me for once, even if it’s in unfair circumstances.”

Astarion swallowed the grunt at the delicious pressure she put on him, turning it to a laugh. “You're no different you know, not letting me bend the rules so I can win, just like when we were children.”

“Never,” she shook her head, coy smile and flirtatious glints in her eyes. “I’ll never let you off free, not even if you are some exalted Lord.” Those lithe fingers clutched one more time harder around his manhood. “And you wouldn’t have it any other way, my love.”

“Whatever makes you happy, my darling,” he purred, still hiding that lump in his throat. That niggling guilt over what he had done before, now that he knew. Now that he remembered. “I’ll try to be worthy of all that trust you have in me.”

She leaned against his chest, arms wrapping around his neck to bring him closer. A tender smile turning one corner of her lips, she kissed him. “I know you will.”

There was so much to be done… but for this evening, for tonight, they all rested in comfort for once. Every other member in their group gave them a massively wide berth, treating them like newlyweds, letting them hide behind the dividers around their bed, ignoring the little noises that came from behind it. Only once a meal was brought out did Cordehlia leave their little hideaway, just long enough to avoid everyone’s knowing smirks and make a simple plate of cheeses and breads.

Then her bare feet hurried back, for a moment of silence before the subtle and constant rustling resumed from behind those partitions.

A few hours later, silence finally fell. Night in the city was still so loud, too loud. And Cordehlia just couldn’t trance no matter how hard she tried. Even as Astarion fell into easy rest beside her, one arm braced behind her head and the other resting on his belly as it rose and fell. He was comfortable here, his home away from her for almost two centuries. That old pang of bitterness flared in her chest, and she sat aright. All she could hear was soft breathing in the night.

She looked out the window, dawn just starting to break with light. Climbing from the bed, she slipped into her clothing, that fresh cream undershirt, sensible black leathers. She would be quick, that pain from her past pushing her to return one more time to that place where agony had taken root.

One more glance to his beautiful, pale, naked body resting in their bed, she kissed her fingers and pressed it featherlight to his forehead. She’d be right back. One last visit to his grave to close the pain of the past.

Boots on her feet, she reached for her dagger. Just the one, her most favorite, if only to make her feel completely dressed; it would just be a jaunt around the corner to the graveyard, a couple of turns in the safety of the sun before she would return. And after all the ways he’d had her last night, she was sure he’d trance his way through that time.

She stepped silently through the dim room, paying no heed to anything other than that door, than her mission to bid the past farewell for good.

Astarion turned in his trance, his sleep restless and uneasy, the memories of being in the Elfsong mostly inflicting those little cuts and wounds of torture from his past as Cazador’s spawn. Except that one time he had been in this suite of rooms….

His dream swept him back to that time, the way his feet hurried away from the other spawn sent there with him to hunt. That little piece of paper in his hand secreted beneath his arm as he hurried silently up the stairs, picking the lock quickly into this empty set of rooms. It hadn’t been hard to find a dark corner, a loose floorboard…

He didn’t know why it was so important to him, but he had known he wanted to keep it. Even if he couldn’t bring it back to the palace, even if he knew that stealing away from his siblings and coming home empty handed tonight meant a spell in the kennels and a session with Godey. His chest rose and fell with the thrill of insolence. That parchment, that news flier unfolding in his hands made him smile.

Eyes scanned the words too quickly to really take in the story, some account of a battle… some fearsome tale of this warrior goddess… All he could do was stare at the printed likeness of her face on the paper. Black and white, just ink and fading parchment, but he had wanted it. And when Petras had tried to tug it from his fingers, he had snarled and disappeared into the crowd. Now he could savor his treasure, enjoy his stolen goods.

She was alluring, that long hair drawn to tease behind her, that sculpted body covered in dark armor, her face hard and fearsome and yet… something about her lips taunted him. Coy and teasing, beckoning him to look closer.

And closer he did look. His mind had raced over the words, no memory of them now almost a century later… but he remembered clearly what he did with that image in those few stolen moments. How his cock had hardened instantly, how it had been only a few moments of rough and dry handfucking for him to come.

How he had wiped himself clean quickly, breathless from actual pleasure for once in his long, broken memory, before he stashed that flier with the pretty She-elf on it under the floorboard.

Astarion bolted awake at last. Hardly noticing he was alone, he scampered from the bed, tripping as he slipped on his trousers too quickly and scuttled across the suite to the opposite corner.

“What in the hells are you doing, Fangs?” Karlach huffed a laugh, amused and annoyed as she had to hurry out of his way.

He said nothing, fingers pulling the wood up to free that long lost, buried treasure. Flinging himself against the wall, he shook his head. If he didn’t have company, he would have, could have cried.

Victory of the Bone Picker.

Clear as the day that dawned outside the window, he finally took the time to look at the words. To look into the printed eyes of his love.

He knew, somehow all those decades ago, he knew.

“Damn, Fangs, is that Cordehlia?” Karlach peered from the other end. “You knew that was here… you saved it here after all this time, didn’t you?”

“I guess so,” was his honest reply. Those crimson eyes looked up wide and shining wet. “Where is she?”

Karlach shook her head, taken aback. “Isn’t she sleeping her climax marathon off in your bed?”

“No,” he suddenly went rigid. Standing, flying to his feet to peer around the rooms. “Has anyone see Cordehlia?” he couldn’t hide the desperation in his voice now.

Gale looked up from his book at that. “She went for a stroll early this morning, first light. I don’t think she saw me here… not that she pays me much mind at any rate…”

“Shh, shh,” Astarion hushed him right up once he sounded as if he would start another one of his diatribes. “Not now, Gale,” he snipped. “That must have been an hour ago already, so where is she?”

“You could always use our little friends,” Gale suggested, two fingers tapping on the side of his head.

“You mean reach out?” the Vampire frowned.

“Wouldn’t hurt,” the Wizard gave a terse reply. For once.

Astarion closed his eyes, feeling the waves of the tadpole’s power emanating from his mind, searching for the other end.

Something faint returned. A flash of a cemetery, a headstone with his name on it, and a pair of glowing red eyes and stringy black hair staring down at her before… darkness.

Silence.

Nothingness.

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

Our Blood will update again in 3 days, so your arms don’t get too tired hanging from that cliff 💞💞

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diorsrealwife · 12 days

Note

Sub tomboy reader x soft Dom! Abby or Hazel

Rest is up to you! 💗

Tell ur girlfriend☆

A/n - yall this MIGHT suck but js work with me okay😢😢(there's a cliffhanger but I promise there will be pt.2🥳🥳)

Warnings - breakups, making out, cheating🌚, reader has a bf, arguing

Summary - you and hazel were originally js study buddies in relationships but things escalated...

Last month you had realized your grades were dropping, thinking nothing of it you continued your life as normal. But last week you had failed your history test, this resulted in a hour long lecture from your parents and a long call with your best friend hazel who offered to help you with your work everyday after school.

"So we still studying tonight?" Hazel asks as you two walk to hazels next class "yeah of course!" You reply. Your about to say something else when Hazel's girlfriend(Mia) walks over, Taking hazels hand in hers while standing on her tippy toes to give Hazel a kiss on her cheek, she's so annoying I don't understand how Hazel puts up with her I just wish she would breakup with her alre-

Your thoughts are interrupted by your boyfriend hugging your waist from behind "hey babe" he says while kissing your cheek.

"oh hey! I heard you got a A on your test?" You question playfully while turning around to face your boyfriend of 7 months.

"Yeah I did and my mom said as a reward we're going out of town for the weekend so I don't think we can hangout tomorrow" you could tell he was hiding something or atleast wasn't telling you the full story but you didn't want to question him about it right now as you had to finish your conversation with hazel.

"Oh well I have to go talk to haz-" your words slow down as you turn around and don't see hazel anywhere. mia must've taken her to makeout.

"Nevermind I guess her and Mia left. Wanna walk me to class?" You ask Lucas.

"Of course babe".

After your last class was finally over you decided to go and wait outside the gym as you know she has a fight club or whatever they call it after school.

30 minutes and it's finally over. Hazel walks out and you call her over as she didn't see you.

"Hey haze! You ready to go?" You ask her while slightly tilting your head in a questioning way.

"Yeah let's go I have lots of homework to do".

"Shit" Hazel says while searching her backpack as if she's lost something.

"What's wrong haze?" You ask as your getting worried by the expression on her face.

"I just forgot my phone in the gym" she says while leaning back into the seat. You start admiring her, wondering how some 3/10 girl who is to "girly" in ur opinion pulled a gorgeous 10000/10 women who you would let do anything to you

Your slowly processing her words as your to focused on her facial features. But once it finally hits you your quick to offer getting it for her.

"I could go get it" you say a little to fast, fast enough she giggled while saying "Yeah that's fine with me".

A little flustered, you get out the car and go back into the building as it was still open.

Walking to fast for your legs liking you finally reach the gym. After 3 minutes of searching you find the familiar phone that you've seen and used many times as you have a habit of forgetting to charge yours.

Just as your about to walk out you hear people talking. As a natural instinct of a person who has social anxiety you decided to stay there until they leave.

2 minutes have passed and they're still there. You started actually listening 30 seconds ago as you realized it was your boyfriend, Lucas and his friends.

"Shes kind of stupid I don't know why she would belive something like that" one of Lucas's friends say. Assuming they're talking about someone else's girlfriend you continue to listen.

"Yeah honestly I didn't think it was gonna be that easy. I'm just excited to hangout with Maddie tomorrow" You recognize this voice, This is a voice you've talked to many times, A voice you trust, no trusted because you realize this is your boyfriends voice your hearing.

Although tears are beginning to form in your eyes you continue to listen as you want to get the full story.

Another 4 minutes and they finally leave. You open the door to the gym slightly and look around to make sure no one is there. When confirmed you walk to the main school doors. Quickly jogging to Hazel's car.

"Here" you say bluntly as you hand Hazel her phone. "What's wrong y/n?" Hazel says as she tucks a peice of your hair behing your ear.

"Can we talk about this later?" You say as you look into her eyes. Your eyes are red so she can obviously tell you've been crying.

After a few seconds of her debating whether to drop it or not she decideds she'll just bring it up later at your house

It's been 2 hours and hazel had just finished her last sentence for her homework. You on the other hand finished it in 30 minutes. Scrolling on tiktok waiting untill she's done. She finally says "I'm finished!".

"God that took forever" you say while rolling your eyes. "Shut up you love my company" she says while pushing ur chest away in a playful way.

It was just silent for a while after that, nobody knew what to say or maybe they were just preparing themselves for what was next to be said.

"So what happened ealier" Hazel said quietly, you almost didn't hear her, but you did which means you had to answer.

"Hes cheating on me" You say with a loud sigh.

"WHAT WITH WHO?!?" Hazel practically screams. You slightly luagh at her loudness untill you remember what this conversation is about.

"With Maddie" You slightly shift so you're in a more comfortable position on the bed

"Really? I didn't even think they talked"

"Me neither, but here we are"

It's silent.

Not an akward kind of silence though.

One that makes you want to go to sleep.

The one that makes everything okay.

You find comfort in the silence with hazel.

Untill she speaks up.

"I'd never do that to you" she whispers. Your face heats up what did she mean by that you wonder, but right now your main focus is making sure she doesn't see how red your face is.

"What do you mean?" You question while sitting up, putting all ur weight on your elbows while staring at her, trying to keep eye contact but she just won't look at you.

"Cheat. I wouldn't cheat on you" She finally looks at you. But all of a sudden your confidence dissappears and you lay back down and turn away from hazel.

Hazel doesn't like that and grabs you so you're facing her again. You're both laying on your sides staring at eachother. Your eyes flick to her lips and back up God I hope she didn't see that . "Whatcha thinking about?"

"You"

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms movie #cliffhanger #uhm #hazel callahan x you

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spreadwardiard · 3 months

Text

The Rot (part 1)

In the dead of night, Orion Pax received a call from Megatron. Not knowing what was happening, but sensing the urgency in his companion's tone, Orion followed the instructions given. Unbeknownst to him, the Rot had already begun to spread.

I was super inspired by the My Little Pony Infection AU so had to try my hand at something like that, so I came up with this thing. I wanted to try my hand at some zombies. There is an BIG THANK YOU TO @lets-try-some-writing for all your encouragement and help! (sorry everyone, for keeping them so busy XDXD)

Part 2 Here

Orion woke slowly, the edges of consciousness still unable to grasp reality. The persistent pinging on his private comm link, however, was quickly forcing his processor to rouse from his dream state to deal with it. A part of him hoped that if He just ignored that ping long enough, it would cease, and he could slip back into his dreams. His wish was not granted.

The pinging continued, and finally he roused enough to note that he had only been in recharge for a couple of joor. It was well into the night, far beyond what would be considered polite to call someone. Orion groaned softly as his optics came online. He had always been one to recharge deeply and come online slowly. It was an unfortunate side effect of processing so much raw data for the Archives.

The pinging stopped and Orion sighed audibly in relief as he rolled over onto his side to try and drift back to his dreams, only for the pinging to resume abruptly. Obviously there was no escaping this. He sluggishly pulled himself into a seated position, and rubbed his optics slowly as he finally took note of the data attached to the caller: MDT-425-B-D-16.

Megatronus? That was odd. They had just spoken at length, right before Orion had drifted into recharge. Orion wondered what could possibly be so important that it couldn’t wait until he came online in the morning.

He accepted the call and put his best effort into sounding as if he were more awake than he actually was.

“Megatronus?” Orion inwardly flinched at how much he had failed in his efforts. His voice was deep, and slow in the way that only showed with exhaustion.

“Orion?” He heard some shuffling come across the connection, and he heard Megatronus mutter something under his venting, that sounded suspiciously similar to ‘thank Primus.’ He was about to open his intake to begin to jest at him for that, but Megatronus did not give him the time.

“I need you to listen carefully. In approximately two and a half groons, there’s a train coming directly to Kaon from Transport platform 3-5B. I need you on that train. Do not pack. Just get up and get on it.”

Orion frowned as he took in Megatronus’ words. This wasn’t making any sense.

“What are you-” But Orion couldn’t finish his question. Megatron cut him off with urgency.

“There’s no time for questions. I promise, I will explain everything when you get here.” Something was wrong. Orion’s tanks churned with unease. “Promise me that you will get here, Orion.”

He didn’t have time to think, his legs were moving without his conscious consent, pulling him out of the comfort of his berth and into the unforgiving chill of his apartment. “I promise, Megatronus. Please, tell me what this is about.”

“I wish I could. There isn't time.” Orion paused only for a klik with his servo hovering in front of the access panel to his door. He was still largely trying to wake up. Hardly any of this was making sense. He half wondered if he was recharge-walking and this was all a bizarre dream, but Megatronus continued to speak. “I love you, Orion.”

“I love-” the distinctive click of a comm being dropped slapped him in his audials. “-you too…”

Orion was suddenly left with an agonizing silence. He felt too alert for this to be a dream, and yet none of what was happening made any sense. He locked the door behind him and sluggishly made his way down the long hall of his building towards the elevator.

Megatronus said he had two and a half groon to get to the station. As the elevator lowered him down to ground level, he did the calculations in his head to determine if he could make it there on pede or if he’d have to use his alt mode. As long as he didn't stop, he should be able to make it. Using his alt mode would take up too much energy anyway.

Orion rubbed his optics once again as the elevator dinged, and he stepped off and out into the street. The air was cool against his plating, a sensation that he normally welcomed as it aided him in recovering from his recharge cycles. This late into the night, however, the chill left him wanting to turn around so that he could crawl back into his berth and nestle himself in the warmth of his thermal sheets. His pedes continued to take him towards the station, despite his desire for more rest. He had promised Megatronus, after all.

It wasn't an especially long walk to the station: he just had to take a left three blocks down by the local pub, and then a right two blocks from there. The route was as familiar to him as his route to the Archives, by this point, which was an excellent excuse for him to allow his frame to fall into auto-pilot mode to get him there. It took up much less of his energy that way, and would allow him to stay firmly planted in his half daze between being fully alert and slipping into recharge. If he could maintain it then he'd be able to slip right back to his dreams as soon as he sat on the train. The thought brought a smile to Orion’s face.

If he recharged on the train, he would be fully ready to come online just before they reached Kaon. He’d be rested and fully ready to tackle whatever issue had come up that Megatronus required his assistance with. It was the perfect plan… if this wasn’t all a strange dream, that is. If he had dreamt up this entire encounter, then he would at least be able to claim a surprise visit.

The further down the sidewalk his pedes took him, the more he was convincing himself that this was a dream. Megatronus’ call had been eerily similar to the one he had had just a deca-cycle ago. The Megatronus in his dreams had used the guise of urgency to lure Orion to kaon for a romantic date that had started with dinner and ended in the fantastical way that dreams tend to do, with them dancing together amongst the stars themselves.

Orion was pulled from his memories by a shrill, yet far off scream. He paused in his steps as his finials twitched, to try and locate the source of the sound. Wherever it had come from, it was far from his location. There was no time to investigate, and it was highly probable that the situation was already being dealt with by Iacon’s dutiful Enforcers. Even so, he found that it put him a bit ill at ease.

With quickened pedesteps, Orion continued his trek and felt slightly more at ease once he rounded the corner by the pub. He’d never gone inside, but it was a well known landmark in his neighborhood, where many mechs would congregate at the ends of their shifts to unwind. It was strange to see it this late at night with no music or boisterous laughter emanating from within its walls. The audial absence made the area feel cold, and lifeless. Unwelcoming. That is what it felt like when the streets were silent and the city largely in recharge.

At least the station wasn’t much farther. Once he got on the train, he’d be able to relax and the odd foreboding feeling that comes from walking alone in the dark would pass. He’d be able to slip back into his dreams, and he and dream space Megatronus would dance amongst the stars to pass the lengthy journey. It was a perfect plan.

He could already see the welcoming lights at the front of the station, and he hurriedly crossed the street, a bit more eager than he expected to be to step into a well lit area. The station was nearly deserted, but that was to be expected at this late time of the night. That was fine by him, that only meant that the line to purchase a ticket would be as well.

Orion was not disappointed. There was only one mech in line, and by the time Orion’s pedes got him there, it was already his turn.

“Archivist Pax, its-zzz great to see you again. Heading out to Kaon again? There’s a train about to leave.” The mecha behind the glass was smiling at him, but Orion couldn’t help but notice the viscous optical lubricants leaking slowly from the mech.

“Ah, that’s right. Can you add my designation to the roster, or am I too late for that?” The service mech raised his servo in a polite gesture. Orion had always been on friendly terms with the mechs at this station. He valued their hard work and commitment to getting everyone where they needed to go, and he tipped them well once he received his bill at the end of each stellar cycle.

“Anything for you, Archivist Pax. There we go… You’re all set to go. Better hurry, you’re cutting it a little close.” Orion uttered a quick and polite thank you as he turned towards platform 3-5B.

The whistle blew loudly, and Orion cursed softly under his venting as he started to run. He’d come too far to have to turn around now. The service mech was absolutely correct in that he was cutting it close. The doors shut immediately after he boarded the front compartment, and he allowed himself a heavy sigh of relief as he took his seat towards the middle, giving him plenty of space between him and the other passengers. He only jostled slightly as they began moving.

He already knew that slipping back into recharge would be impossible. After that eerie scream and then having to run, he had fully entered wakefulness. The trip would take about four joors. If he was lucky he’d be able to recharge for half of that now and there was no way he’d be able to slip into a romantic dream again, after how strange everything had been since he’d been ripped from recharge.

It wasn’t normal for Megatronus to call him like this, outside of his dreams, of course. He’d been too tired before to really think about it, but now that he was awake… Megatronus had sounded less urgent and more concerned. He sounded worried…

A loud groan shook him from his thoughts, and he glanced towards the front of his compartment, towards a mech that looked as if he were about to be sick. He had his helm between his knees, and the mech beside him had a servo on his shoulder. They must have been some of the last patrons of the pub, probably on their way back to their work duties.

Orion looked back to the ground between his own pedes. It was rude to stare, and he had other things to think about anyway. Like the strange tone Megatronus had on that call. How he had made Orion promise that he would make it to Kaon… how he had said that he loved him….

Megatronus never expressed his affections in such an open manner, especially over spoken comms. They had already agreed that they would put their romantic attachments on hold until after they were able to plead their case to the Senate. There was too much at stake to be distracted by their feelings for each other.

A heavy, twisting feeling began to settle in Orion’s tanks. Something must be wrong. Megatronus had said there wasn’t time to explain, but Orion had nothing but time now. He accessed his contacts, and set up a secure, private line, opening a comm link to Megatronus, ready to get to the bottom of this.

………………ERROR 638aaaaaaaa:: UNABLE TO ESTABLISH LINK………….

That… was strange. What was going on? Had Megatronus blocked his commlink? That made no sense, especially after that cryptic and worrying last call. Perhaps Megatronus’ private line had been hacked? It was unlikely, but possible. He could try calling Megatronus’ public line, but that had its risks as well… He tried the private line again.

………………ERROR 638aaaaaaaa: UNABLE TO ESTABLISH LINK………….

Perhaps trying the public line would be the way to get through. He had to sort this out, or he’d be an anxious mess this entire trip. He vented deeply, preparing himself for an audial full for not using the secure line to call but…

………………ERROR 638aaaaaaaa: UNABLE TO ESTABLISH LINK………….

That unsettled weight in his tanks surged. This wasn’t normal. Was Megatronus alright? Had something happened to him? Was that concern and worry in his voice because he’d been fatally injured? Orion felt himself begin to spiral, and couldn’t stop himself from immediately trying to reach Soundwave next. The two weren’t exactly close, but Soundwave knew of he and Megatronus’ arrangement, and thus would understand Orion’s concern.

………………ERROR 638aaaaaaaa: UNABLE TO ESTABLISH LINK………….

Orion then recalled the audible click that had cut him off and ended his previous call. He’d assumed Megatronus had simply ended the call a bit prematurely, having said what he felt he needed to say. But now… Had comms gone down?

A harsh retching drew Orion’s attention back to the drunken mech in the front of the compartment. He looked up just in time to see him purge his tanks of a thick, lumpy, viscous dark green goop. The mech beside him groaned in disgust, but immediately leaned in to assist his companion. “Get the frag-zzz away from me!” The drunken mech half yelled and half slurred.

Orion didn’t stick around to see what the outcome would be. He was unarmed, and barely armored. He couldn’t afford to lose his life in a drunken brawl when he and Megatronus were finally making progress with their movement.

Orion made his way to the back of the compartment, and quietly slipped through the door, intent on making his way to the rear of the train, as far from this scuffle as possible. He passed by the security station in the middle of the train, and informed them of the problem that was brewing in the first compartment. They quickly thanked him, and they parted ways.

By the time he made it to the last compartment, he was ready to slump into the closest seat he could find. If he was perfectly honest… That was disturbing. He’d spent a lot of time with Ratchet, and had gone over his fair share of medical data. He was no medic, but he definitely knew that purging your tanks wasn’t supposed to look… like… that.

He’d never seen anything like that before. But maybe Ratchet had? If it was something medically significant, Ratchet would want to know what he saw. Yes, comms to Kaon were obviously not working, but Ratchet should still be reachable.

………………ERROR 638aaaaaaaa: UNABLE TO ESTABLISH LINK………….

Orion’s spark pulsed in anxiety. In all his life, he’d never had this happen. Something was wrong. He should have picked up on it immediately, as soon as Megatronus had called him. He should have especially known after that admission of love. Now that he replayed the conversation over in his processor, Megatronus had sounded afraid.

A spark-freezing scream tore him from his thoughts. That… came from the front end of the train. A tremor of fear rang through him, and he quickly got up from his seat to engage the locking mechanism on the door of his compartment. Before he could return to his seat, his audials were assaulted by the screech of brakes ripping into the tracks and the explosive groan of metal crunching against metal. He didn’t even have time to brace himself before he suddenly was airborne.

And then Orion’s entire world went black.

#spreadwardiardfics #infection AU #tfp alternative universe #maccadam #transformers #transformers prime #pre war cybertron #zombie apocolypse au #body horror #cliffhanger #megaop #megop #megorion #MLP 🤝TF #i was inspired by the mlp infection AU #fanfiction #The Rot AU

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