bludstaind

[bludstaind]

⸻ Cassian's grip on their hand tightened instinctively as he noticed the tears welling up in their eyes. A pang of worry hit his chest like a brick, but before he could react, they had smiled and squeezed his hand. Such a simple gesture, but the touch sent his heart racing. He'd always felt this way, intense, heavy, about everything…and Kindred only amplified that whenever they were around.

He forced a smile of his own, masking his frayed nerves the best he could. "You really know how to make an entrance, don't you?" he teased gently, half smile found it's way onto his face and in his eyes, you could see a glimmer of genuine warmth. "Just…thanks for coming out here. I needed the company more than I realized."

Still, for a mere moment, an uncomfortable feeling skittered up his spine. The hairs on his arms stood on end, something deep and primal warning him that something was off. As if there was a mental shield he could put on his own mind, he swallowed it back, pushed it down, and told attributed the sensation to his stress.

Drawing Kindred a little closer, an act of defiance against his own nerves, he brushed his thumb across their hand; a featherlight touch. "Let's just stay out here for a bit longer, alright? Just you and me, away from all the bullshit." His voice softened, a familiar, cheeky smile on his lips. "Besides, I think I owe you a proper thank you for rescuing me from those vultures. What do you say, my hero?"

The moment his hand touched theirs, the world was completely enshrouded in darkness. All sound had vanished in but a second, the cold air of the night turning into something lukewarm, unnatural, and there was only Cassian and Kindred standing there. He spoke, and they listened, though it wasn't his words they could focus on. The eerie growl that rippled across his mind, ever-encompassing in an unearthly pitch that was familiar to only Kindred.

There, there, little Lamb. Our prey is all alone, cornered and unsuspecting. How eager he is to be slaughtered, offering his throat for the rending. How sweet his entrails must taste.

Kindred stood there, looking at their friend, tears welling up in their eyes before they smiled wider and squeezed his hand. "....Huh? Sorry, I didn't catch that." The growl became a mocking laugh, and the more Kindred blinked, the clearer their vision became. "I didn't want you to be alone."

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⸻ A knot tightened in his stomach as he took in her furious glare. Her words cut through him like hot knives, making him acutely away of just how badly he fucked up. Still, her fiery temperament always sparked something wild inside of him, even now, tied to a in her basement. "Come on, dollface," he said, charm and genuine concern mixed into his voice, "Listen, I know things got pretty messy…but you and I, we've always been able to handle messy, haven't we?"

He shifted uncomfortably in the chair, the ropes digging into his skin, a stark reminder of his predicament. His eyes flickered nervously to her purse. Those plush keychains, each one smiling innocently, seemed strangely sinister now, especially with that mysterious pill rattle. His mind raced with questions, but he knew better than to push her further in this moment. "Look, I know I've got some making up to do, baby, why don't you just untie me and give me a chance? It's a little hard to win you back when I'm losing circulation to my hands-…"

"Do you have any idea how many people want you dead right now?" she snapped. Dottie's nerves were wound tighter than her ponytail. It was an instant facelift that cost only three hair elastics, a scrunchie, and the ability to furrow her eyebrows.

Scuffed heels had been kicked off in a trail from the basement door. The rug was a pink shag and the walls were soundproof.

"Including me?"

Her purse slammed against the floor with a thud. Inside, something metallic clinked and a bottle of pills rattled. A collection of small, plush keychains clipped onto the strap handle smiled up at Wade with their glittering eyes and stitched blush.

"There is like, so very, very little that I consider a deal breaker," she said, voice trembling. "But this? Pookie bear, this is too far."

[bludstaind]

@chocalafolie // WOT NATION RISE UP

⸻ Wade Warren awoke with a dull ache in his head, his senses slowly returning to the dimly lit basement around him. Blinking against the harsh light, he feels the rough dig of rope in his wrists and ankles, realizing that he's been restrained to a chair. Tightly, might he add. His heartrate quickened when Dottie approached, pacing in front of him, a fierce expression etched onto her face. She'd approached with purpose, ripping a strip of tape from his mouth with a force that made him wince.

"Baby, come on," he began, his accent thickening as the nerves settled in. "I thought you'd be happy to see me! Didn't you miss me at all, Dottie?"

He tried his best to gauge her mood, his admiration for her tenacity mingling with a growing sense of unease. "Come on sugar, you know I had to lay low." he pleaded, struggling against his bonds to no avail. "I'm out now, ain't I? 'Sides, you've always liked my nerve, haven't you?" He couldn't help but smirk a little, despite the situation, "Come on, baby, admit it, you missed me. I'll admit, ropes and tape wasn't how I'd imagined my welcome home party, but I dig your style, babe."

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⸻ Wade grinned at her, her dry humor and composed demeanor something he'd admired. Her readiness mirrored his own as they prepared for the night's work ahead. "You know me, always finding ways to keep things interesting," he replied with a nod of appreciation as he navigated the sedan through the city's labyrinthine streets.

As they merged into the flow of the late-night traffic, his expression turned thoughtful. "Tonight's job's gonna need finesse. High security, tight timeline," he said, his voice low and focused. "We'll have to be ghosts—quick, quiet, and precise." Taking a glance over at her, a glint of anticipation in his eyes. "But you and me, we've danced this dance before. I say we get in, do our job, and slip out like shadows in the night."

Adjusting his grip on the steering wheel, his confidence radiated through his every move. "What's your read on the security setup?" he asked, his voice betraying a hint of curiosity. They were a team forged in the crucible of countless operations, each knowing their part in the intricate ballet of their chosen profession.

She wears her standard all-black outfit, fitted cargo-style pants, boots, turtleneck and lightweight spidersilk gloves- a gift from her friend Myrad, hair slicked back into a sleek ponytail and a backpack hangs loosely from her shoulder. Min waits for her friend patiently in the doorway of the building, eyes scouring the darkness into which she blends so perfectly. She'd received the notification mere minutes ago and when that car pulled up in front of her, she waited for Wade to greet her before moving. "How lucky, we get to see the sights this evening." she replies dryly, stepping forwards and grabbing the opened door carefully, dropping her bag behind the seat as she climbs into the vehicle before closing the door gently behind her. She huffs a laugh through her nostrils, looking across at Wade with raised eyebrows "safety first" she echoes sincerely, clipping the belt together and looking ahead "let's go, then."

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⸻ "You smell absolutely delicious, darling. Is that cologne?" A nose brushed along his jaw, inhaling the scent on his throat.

"Don't touch me." Cassian's hand trembled as he took another puff from his cigarette, desperately clinging to the thin thread of his calm facade amidst his fraying nerves.

"Feisty one, aren't you? Come on, handsome, it's a party." Foreign hands snaked up his arm, pressing him against the balcony's edge. Cool, porcelain teeth grazed his neck as he shoved them back. "Don't fucking touch me, do you hear me?" His voice was raw, cracking at the end as his stress surfaced. The cold night air bit through his thin shirt, his mind spiraling as the cursed bloods circled him like predators hunting their prey.

The balcony doors creaked open, and Kindred appeared, their presence an unexpected lifeline. The creatures of the night dispersed in fear, hisses slipping from their lips as they retreated like shadows before the dawn. Cassian exhaled, relief flooding through him. He reached for Kindred's hand instinctively, pulling them close.

"Yeah, I've been out here for a bit," he confessed, tension easing from his body. "Needed a break from all the... festivities. But I'm better now that you're here." His gaze softened with gratitude and a hint of longing. "Thank you for finding me. Will you stay a while longer? It's quieter out here, and we can keep each other warm." His grip on Kindred was firm yet gentle, seeking reassurance in their presence.

closed. location: de sade castle

To some, walking across a ballroom full of blood sucking, murdering, merciless monsters as a mere mortal would've been a bit of a challenge. To Kindred, however, it was like they were a hot knife gliding through butter. Better yet, it was as if a sea of cursed bloods had parted in front of them. They couldn't imagine what the big fuss was about! Cursed bloods weren't even that mean! There was a delighted smile on their features as they made their merry way towards the enormous doors that opened up to the balcony, where they hoped to find @bludstaind after a very long thirty minutes of not seeing him.

The fresh air was cold against their lungs. Freezing, even. Yet it made no difference once their eyes had settled on the familiar face of Cassian, standing there surrounded by three thirsty and persistent cursed bloods.

They seemed to have grown bored as soon as Kindred approached. Lucky! With the three spawns skittering away, hissing in their direction, Kindred smiled at Cassian. "Have you been out here the whole time? Aren't you cold, silly?"

[bludstaind]

@lcvebvtes // wademin shenannies

⸻ Wade leaned against the graffiti-covered wall of a dimly lit alleyway, his sharp eyes scanning the street beyond. A cigarette dangled from his lips, and he exhaled a cloud of smoke, adjusting the collar of his jacket. His phone buzzed in his pocket, the screen casting a glow on his features as a new message popped up: the target's location had changed. "Figures," he sighed, shaking his head. "They never make it easy, do they?" He flicked the cigarette to the ground, crushing the ember under his boot before sliding into a sleek black sedan. The engine purred to life, and he navigated the city streets with the ease of someone who’d spent a lifetime here. Minutes later, he pulled up outside a nondescript building where Min, his partner in crime, was waiting. He rolled down the window, a playful grin spreading across his face. "Looks like we've got ourselves a little detour. Target's moved. You ready for some fun?" He leaned over to push the door open for her from the driver’s seat. "Don’t forget your seatbelt, safety first."

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domi @ roland: “Why do beautiful people taste better?. It hardly seems fair on the ugly - they have such wonderful personalities.”

⸻ "Are you calling me pretty, Princess? I didn't know you'd felt that way about me. I'm flattered, truly, but I think I'll be keeping my blood for the evening. I'm quite fond of it, you see." He flashed a charming smile, his chin raised, the pale flesh of his throat exposed and radiating heat.

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tristan @ roland: “I really wish I could cast a Hold spell on you.”

⸻ Roland winced involuntarily as his cousin worked on the infected wounds on his back. Through gritted teeth and a hiss of pain, he managed to speak, his words laced in discomfort. "It's a little difficult, cousin, when every muscle in my body is burning. I'd prefer not to feel like a statue, if you don't mind."

[bludstaind]

kindred @ cassian: “Eyes on victory, tummy on dinner.”

⸻ "Sounds like a plan, pretty. You handle victory, I've gone dinner covered," he replied, a familiar, playful smile spreading across his face. As Kindred's stomach rumbled across from him, Cassian couldn't help but give their tummy a gentle pat, teasing them. "Someone's eager, aren't they? I promise it'll be something delicious, if you're good, I'll even let you sneak food from the pan."

[bludstaind]

domi @ arturo: “Enough waiting. I crave blood.”

⸻ His response to Dominique was swift and solicitous, "Of course, Mistress. What type of blood do you grave tonight? O negative? Or perhaps something more exotic? I can arrange for the finest selection of virgin blood, ensuring your satisfaction. Your thirst is my command, and I'll see to it that your desires are met with the utmost care and discretion." He refused to lose another sweater.

[bludstaind]

tristan @ cassian: “I'm not built to crouch.”

⸻ Cassian lounged comfortably on a worn-out couch, a haze of mellow satisfaction lingering in the air as he puffed and passed the remnants of a joint lazily. The room was bathed in the soft glow of his TV, a cheesy cult-classic filling the room with background noise. He'd practically melted into his seat, all of the stress from the week dissipating as his buzz kicked in. The sudden sound of Tristan coughing up a storm and the remote flying off the couch shattered the tranquility, pulling Cassian out of his reverie with a jolt. "Whoa, dude, are you good?" he asked, concern lacing his voice as he leaned forward, clapping a hand on the other man's back. "You're not kidding. Don't worry, I'll rescue the remote, just try not to cough up a lung, okay? I don't exactly know how to put it back-"

[bludstaind]

domi & veronica // a closed starter for @babygirlhq

"Claw at the frozen wall all you want, sister, but it will not bring your favorite spawn back. Perhaps he found a more amiable master. One whose cages have bars close together enough so that he cannot slip through them, and right under their nose, like he did with you. But, as much as it hurts to admit, you are right. I shall mind my own business, for it is far more enjoyable than watching you flail around in the dark like a pathetic mortal wretch."

⸻ In the ancient halls of Castle De Sade, where shadows danced upon the stone walls, Dominique's voice sliced through the frigid air like shards of ice, each word dripping with venomous mockery that reverberated through the very foundations of their ancestral home. It was a move in the centuries-old game they played, a calculated gambit to exploit the fault lines in Veronica's carefully constructed facade. Bound by blood but fractured by an icy disdain, the sisters existed in a delicate balance of power and politics, their interactions veiled in layers of simmering resentment and unspoken animosity.

As Dominique reveled in her barbed taunts, the weight of humiliation pressed down on Veronica like a suffocating cloak, her blackened fingers twitching with the restless urge to lash out. Her very essence seethed with a tempest of rage and indignation, a primal urge to rend and tear, to slice and claw, to unleash the full force of her fury upon the scum that was her sister. Each syllable was a dagger, piercing through Veronica's composure. Yet, beneath the cool exterior of the cursed queen lay a heart that yearned to unleash its wrath upon her sister.

"Your words ring hollow, Domi," Veronica retorted, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade. "You speak of cages and masters, yet you're blind to the bars closing in around you. Enjoy your petty taunts, but know this: your arrogance will be your undoing. And when that day arrives, it will be me standing over you, denying you any hope of salvation. A reckoning awaits, dear sister."

[bludstaind]

It is winter, my season.

Helen Dunmore, from ‘A Spell of Winter’

[bludstaind]

𝐚 𝐭𝐰𝐨-𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭 // jacqueline & alvie. @chocalafolie

⸻ The midnight air clung to Jackie as she perched on the front steps of her trailer, tendrils of smoke twirling around her disheveled hair. Dark circles etched beneath her eyes, stark evidence of sleepless nights and the worry that had gnawed its way into her. Each drag she took seemed to carry a layer of her anxiety, dissipating into the tense quietude hanging around her like a vice. Her voice, usually laced with sarcastic quips, now frayed with a fear that clawed at her insides.

"He never does this, Alvie," she began, hands trembling slightly with each drag of the cigarette. "It's not like Jean to just vanish. It's been days... days and days of nothing. At first, I was pissed, you know? But now..." A shaky exhale escaped her lips. "Now I'm just so scared. What if something is happening to him, Alvie? I know something isn't right; I can feel it when I'm around him... something is off." Panic etched itself across her features as she cast a desperate glance towards the man beside her, searching his face for solace in the midst of her escalating anxiety.

"I've done this to him before..." her voice dropped to a whisper, laden with a profound ache. Somewhere in the dark, hot tears spilled over her cheeks. "Being on the other end... it hurts. What if this is my fault?" The last words hung in the air, a haunting question that added a deeper layer of intensity to the already charged atmosphere.

[bludstaind]

⸺ The salty breeze carried with it the scent of brine as Roland's grin widened, his eyes reflecting a mixture of amusement and challenge. "An elusive siren offering protection, can't say I'm not intrigued," he remarked, his tone holding a hint of playfulness. "I'm not so easily lured into the depths, unfortunately, it takes more than a melodic voice and a splash of scales to ensnare me."

He kicked a piece of driftwood, meeting her laughter with a confident smirk. "I'm more accustomed to doing the protecting, but I'll admit, a bit of company might be a welcome distraction. From a distance, of course." Sauntering a few steps back, his hands raised in a playful mock-surrender, her studied her with an exaggerated curiosity, head cocking to the side. "Do you usually have a target on your back?"

⸻ The damp, salty air clung to Roland's clothes as he wandered along the shoreline, the rhythmic crashing of the waves providing a familiar backdrop to his thoughts. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the sands. His path unexpectedly crossed with a figure emerging from the foamy embrace of the sea, the silhouette of a woman graced the waters, her glistening scales caught the fading sunlight, creating an ethereal dance of light and shadow.

Roland's gaze, sharp and ever-curious, locked onto the mysterious eyes of the singing woman, a siren of the seas. As the waves harmonized with her enchanting voice, his lips curved into a polite grin. "What's a life-threatening quest without a bit of music?" he quipped, a mischievous spark gleaming in his eyes as he spoke to the mermaid. "Though, I must warn you, my dear, there's been word of Cursed Bloods in the area as of late, so tread cautiously.

ariel's always had a fondness for beautiful things. the man in front of her no different from the various trinkets she often finds on the ocean's floor. ariel unable to fight the thrall that longs to claim him, keep the curly haired blonde in the safety of her shelled cover bosom. and after the betrayal she's suffered at the hands of her kin, the siren could use a distraction. so she quietly admires the giant of a man, harmonizing with the timbre of his voice as he speaks. all while perched happily on her rock. face tinted with a shade of coral pink.

at the pet name, she dives back into the water, hiding. her voice able to be heard amongst the crash of the waves. ❝I am not an easy target.❞ the mermaid then giggles, face peaking from underneath the foamy tides. ariel slowly rising from the ocean's depths to reveal her frame, legs surprisingly included. the redhead wildly frolicking to further prove her point of mobility. ❝but don't worry, if we see any, I'll protect you.❞ she laughs, hands rubbing against her sea silk covered thighs. ariel trying to remember the lessons of seduction she's learned from her sisters. but adorably failing.

[bludstaind]

I tried to murder myself: to keep from being an embarrassment to the ones I loved and from living myself in a mindless hell. 

Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath — 12th December 1958

[bludstaind]

⸺ Elia's gaze locked onto his with a mixture of wariness and resignation. The silver thread against her throat cut through the air as a chilling reminder of their situation. She swallowed, acutely aware of the sting, the scent of his blood, and the conflicting desires swirling within her. A careful tilt of her chin upward, Elia's eyes met his icy blue stare. "You wouldn't be the first to try," she murmured, her voice slow and delicate. It wasn't a challenge, nor a threat, but simply an observation. The scent of cedar and cherry surrounded her, an earthy contrast to the metallic taste in her mouth.

As he demanded his answers, her gaze flickered to the moonlit silver of wire, the cold glint of metal reflecting the silent thread between them. "Your clothes are gone, I've burned to rid them of the blood and beast's scent," she replied, her words measured. A fleeting thought of keeping Benny and herself safe crossed her mind, and did her best to be as honest as she could, while keeping her curse a secret. "I brought you here because I couldn't you die…I couldn't let that beast claim another victim." Taking a shallow breath, ever so still, she continued, "I found you after the beast's attack. You were wounded, nearly freezing… I dragged you inside, dressed you and tried to keep you warm. The smell of your blood, though… It's making me so dizzy."

The burn in her throat only intensified as she continued, her eyes reflecting an unsettling hunger, fitted to his neck. "I'm just…so…thirsty," she admitted, biting down on her own tongue and filling her mouth with the taste of her own blood, "I haven't fed in days, and it's just so overpowering…" The struggle in her eyes was evident as she fought against these primal urges that threatened to consume her.

"I don't want it to control me."

"It would be the last thing you ever do."

Nimble hands draw for a dagger that isn't there, gone along with his clothes. A flannel shirt catches on the edge of his bandages. It drapes over him, generous in both fabric and the scent of wood. The odor's richness bubbles around his neck, sharp cedar and the sweet, aromatic heart of cherry.

Jean struggles to alertness. The shirt must belong to a third person, and he's too weakened to survive a two-on-one fight. Stripped of his armor, there's nothing to stop this woman's fangs from shredding his neck.

A silver string materializes in his hands, but it is more threat than thread. It glints the cold, silver shine of metal. Jean holds it taught against her neck, and the moonlit sliver of wire cuts flesh. The wound is superficial, its paltry sting like papercuts. But, there is no hesitation in his eyes to slice further, slice clean through flesh and bone.

"If you saved me from the beast, I owe you a debt," he said. "Do not make me kill you before I have repaid it, cursed one."

Perhaps the other knights had been right: he'd returned to patrol too soon. They'd laughed and underneath their thick helmets, it was like hearing the husks of seeds rattle in a tin can. It had been irksome, how they assumed they knew better than an immortal who'd lived double their lifetimes. As his head throbbed, he wondered if the hasty return to his post was a mistake. It wasn't like him to fail. When he came for a beasts head, they were dead the moment he took his vow. Jean didn't fail; he always followed through and kept his word.

"Tell me what happened."

The immortal's eyes are icy as the silk he holds. They're blue like a gunmetal scrap of armor, cold from a winter's snow.

"And where are my clothes?"