#&&. RABID DIRTY DOG！☠ 𝐈𝐂。

[bloodtwin]

❝ You guys really think I'm naughty ？❞

[bloodtwin]

HIS EYEBROWS KNIT TOGETHER at Astarion’s questions. His head tilts to the side as he tries to understand. ❝ Why would I be upset ？❞

Because he killed you ; don’t be so naive. Yes, but he didn’t mean to do it. Why would I be angry with someone for something they couldn’t control ？That’s not fair. That’s hypocritical. 

❝ I know you didn’t mean to. It’s all right, ❞ he reassures again, voice soft & light as if it were the easiest thing in the world for him to say. ❝ I forgive you. ❞ 

His skin shudders as Astarion’s fingers wander down his throat then up to his lips. His eyes slip shut, so trusting & vulnerable for a man who was murdered. He’d likely trust him with his neck again & again, even if each time he died of blood loss.

He wonders if it was enough. If draining all of his blood was enough to satisfy Astarion’s hunger. 

Puck has a feeling it didn’t. If Astarion really was anything like him, then he knows it didn’t. Though he can feel the power, the new life, surging underneath the vampire’s every touch he knows whatever high he feels is temporary. Hunger starts to gnaw on one’s insides so quickly. 

His eyes peek open when Astarion speaks again. What is he ？ 

If only Puck knew. He asks himself that question all the time. What kind of half-elf can’t seem to die ？Has claws, fangs & a taste for blood of his own ？At least Astarion knows what he is. He knows what to do, what to expect. How to behave. Puck is stumbling in the dark, lost & painfully alone. He doesn’t mean to defy expectations; he doesn’t even know what those are meant to be. 

❝  I don’t know . . .  ❞ he mumbles, suddenly insecure & delicate. Fidgeting, his hands reach to touch one of Astarion’s arms. His claws idly trace up & down, featherlight. He wouldn’t normally touch someone else so freely, even when he yearns for it so deeply, but he needs something to do with his hands. He feels comfortable around Astarion. He can defend himself if Puck’s nails dig deeper, he’s sure. Or push him away if it bothers him.

 ❝ H- Have you ever not known who you were, Astarion ？❞

Astarion stands frozen, blinking in disbelief as Puck rushes to reassure him, grasping his hand and pressing it against the steady thrum of his pulse. The rapid beat beneath his fingertips feels shockingly real, despite everything——despite the blood, the death, the madness of it all. Alive. He’s alive. The truth of it pulses beneath his palm, and for a moment, Astarion can’t process it. His mind is still swimming in a thick fog of ecstasy and confusion, the lingering intoxication from Puck’s blood making it hard to think, hard to focus.

Puck is alive, and he’s… not angry. He’s not lashing out, not recoiling in horror. He’s… comforting him?? Astarion’s eyes widen further, his thoughts stuttering to a halt. He hadn’t expected any of this. Not even a little bit. Part of him had braced for an attack, for fury, or worse——for Puck to vanish into nothingness, confirming his blood-soaked delirium. But this? This easy forgiveness? This absurd, naive reassurance?

Astarion blinks again, his bloodied fingers still resting against the warm pulse in Puck’s throat. This is real. As much as his mind rebels against it, it’s happening. The fear, the panic that had gripped him moments ago, starts to fade into something quieter. A muted relief washes over him, dulling the sharp edges of his guilt. Puck is alive. He’s not angry. He’s not dead. The relief comes swiftly, but with it, the guilt lingers——an ugly weight pressing down on his chest. He killed Puck. He drained him dry, and yet here the man is, standing before him, more concerned about Astarion’s well-being than his own. It’s almost laughable, if it weren’t so deeply unsettling. Astarion lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, his fingers twitching slightly against the warmth of Puck’s skin.

❛ Just like that? ❜ Astarion asks finally, his voice a touch incredulous. His fingers remain pressed to Puck’s pulse, feeling the rhythm of life beneath his cool touch. He raises his other hand, pinching his index and thumb together, emphasizing his next words, ❛ You’re not even a teeny bit upset? ❜ His tone is somewhat teasing, but beneath it there’s an edge——a lingering disbelief that gnaws at him.

He feels his mouth begin to water again, an involuntary reaction to the proximity of that divine blood. He just drained him. He shouldn’t still want more, but, gods, he does. His fangs ache faintly, the hunger stirring once more, despite the fact that he’s just gorged himself on the man’s very essence. He should be satisfied. Sated. But the longer he stands here, the more the need returns, like a fire rekindling from embers. His mind is still a mess, a chaotic swirl of conflicting emotions——guilt, fear, confusion, lust, and an overwhelming, electric longing that hums beneath his skin. His fingers trail down the line of Puck’s throat, feather-light, tracing the path his fangs had taken earlier. The skin there is flawless, untouched, as if the entire thing had been nothing but both a wonderful dream and a terrible nightmare.

Astarion leans in slightly, his breath hitching as his fingertips brush against the smooth skin of Puck’s jaw, up to his chin, and then over the soft curve of his lips. There’s a charge to every touch, a static shock that sends shivers down his spine. It’s like he’s drunk, but not on wine——on the sheer impossibility of Puck’s existence, on the divine blood that still sings in his veins, on the electric pulse of life beneath his fingers.

❛ What are you? ❜ Astarion whispers, the words slipping out before he can stop them. His voice is low, reverent, like he’s speaking to something sacred. ❛ You defy every expectation I’ve ever had about anything. ❜ His fingertips linger on Puck’s lips, tracing the soft line of them, each touch sending a ripple of sensation through him. The world feels too sharp, too bright, too alive, and Astarion is lost in it, drowning in the impossibly of Puck’s essence, and his continued existence.

[bloodtwin]

❝ Girls get mad at you for ❛ cheating ❜ and then go & fuck your dad. ❞

[bloodtwin]

@silvertiefling ⸻ continued from here :

HIS HOLD TIGHTENS WHEN HE realizes what he said - because he was serious or because he knew she was about to seriously freak out. She wasn't all that sure. It wasn't really her main focus, nor problem, right now. They had just been making out, limbs tangled, and suddenly words are spilling out of his mouth that she didn't really think ever would. They had never really talked about it before, after all - so it wasn't her fault he had said it out of the blue and made her instincts work in overdrive. Every iota of her body and brain was telling her he was joking. That it was a cruel prank. That he was messing with her in the heat of the moment ... ... after all, he had never even told her he loved her. So how was she supposed to trust those words. She pulled back as much as she could with him gripping her so tightly, her silver eyes wide with panic. " T-That's not fuckin' funny Puck - "

          FUNNY  ？  SHE  THOUGHT  he found it funny ？That it was a joke ？

Seeing the panic in her eyes, Puck felt a horrible pit forming in his stomach. Well, now he was embarrassed. It seemed they were on very different pages from one another. Was the idea of marrying him so abhorrent to her that it had to be a joke ？

The passion in his eyes gave way to a flash of irritation, of thinly-veiled humiliation, instead. He fought against her as she pulled back, tugging her towards him again. 

❝ Excuse me ？I didn't realize devotion was a joke to you. A simple ❛ no ❜ would have sufficed. ❞

[bloodtwin]

𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐠 。。。

             latest grave robbed: shit i've said to my cat 。

@accultant ⸻ ❝ I know you're trying to tell me something, I just don't know what. ❞

             THE  BEAST  HUFFS  ;   this is much more difficult than it should be for someone who used to be something of a ventriloquist for him. 

That was when they were little, though. When they were attached by the hip with a telepathic link between them. When Iago could actually read his facial expressions properly. Puck didn't exactly have a snout back then.

Chain jingling behind him, he pads over to one of the windows & pushes the heavy curtains to the side with his paws. Then he points at Iago before bonking his head against the glass. You. Go outside. It would be good for you. There are birds.

At least, that's how he wants to say it. Instead Puck clears his throat then proceeds to speak in the only way he can. A rough growl: ❝ Igor. Out. ❞

          Ah, 

                 That sounds like he's kicking them out. Not quite what he meant. 

[bloodtwin]

❝ don't forget to include my pussy, too. equality, astarion. ❞

　　　is there anywhere he's stuck his dick that @bloodtwin hasn't stuck his dick too? a couple, perhaps. no more than three... . . .

[bloodtwin]

❝ i'm sorry for being so cute and charming and also the world's most fuckable bachelor. as if it's my fault. ❞

[bloodtwin]

𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐠 。。。

             latest grave robbed: unprompted interactions 。

@silvertiefling ⸻ ❝ I have somethin' to confess - before you and I got together or whatever... I kinda slept with Iago -  ❞

             ❝   。。。 IS  THERE  a reason  you would say something like this to me, Katya ？❞ His voice is uncharacteristically even, despite the confession. Void of reaction as he continues observing the lanceboard in front of him, not bothering to look Katya's way. 

Puck is not easily riled up. Not much truly rattles him, but it should be a no-brainer at this point not to ever bring up his twin in conversation. Especially not like this. Not if you don't have a deathwish 。Yet, after his question, he's silent. He doesn't yell. Doesn't lunge for Katya's throat. He merely stares at the board. Waits.

Then his grip on the table tightens. Deliberately, his head turns in her direction. His expression is blank, but his eyes burn with a thousand emotions. There's malice there, hatred 。Pain & betrayal. Anger so intense that it almost paralyzes him. 

When he speaks again, it is deathly quiet. The only evidence of his rage can be found in the faint tremor in his voice. He takes one step towards her. Run.

             ❝ You should know there are few things I despise more than a liar, Katya. I do not tolerate them. ❞ He gets in her face, leering down at her. His anger starts to bleed through his voice. 

             ❝ I cannot fathom whatever game it is you think you're playing with me, but it is a mercy that you still breathe. I should cut out your tongue for having the gall to speak their name. Do not ever lie to me like that again. I will kill you, and after I've plucked every bone from your corpse, I will forget you ever existed. Now get out of my sight. ❞

[bloodtwin]

@accultant // continued from here.

        HAD  THEY  ALWAYS  BEEN  so sassy with him ？ No. No, certainly not any time recently. He would not have allowed such a thing. ( He almost does not allow it now. Almost snaps back at them, but he swallows the bark before it bites. )  

        When they were children, maybe. He knows they used to tease him, but that isn’t the same thing as being sassy. Snappy. Within the privacy of his tent, Puck lets himself frown, for he cannot remember.

If he cannot remember, then that aspect of their youth, of Iago’s younger self & their personality, is lost forever. For a moment, Puck feels as if he’s been kicked to the ground, a giant’s boot weighing heavily on his chest. It cracks his ribs. Crushes his heart. He allows the feeling to wash over him, for it may give him even a sliver of understanding. 

He has, once again, stripped his own twin of another piece of their identity. ( He is always trampling over Iago. Cracking their ribs with his boot. ) He has so thoroughly rinsed them of any semblance of individuality that it startles him each time he catches a glimpse of who they used to be. 

        Of course, they had to forget him entirely for those glimpses to even exist. 

        A pretty bug. That’s all. They only want to show him a pretty bug they found. It’s endearing ; it’s sickening. It makes him want to cry. He doesn’t know when the last time they wanted to show him something so simple. 

There was a time once when they were little, though it likely wasn’t the last incident like it, where Iago showed Puck a worm they found & he ate it just to watch their nose scrunch up in disgust before they both started to laugh. Did they remember that before they forgot it all ？ Would they ever remember it ？

Bitterly, Puck wishes he didn’t remember. He never used to think about any of this, but now it’s all he can think about. Every time Iago looks at him but doesn’t see him, he thinks about their childhood. Every time they speak to him like he’s a stranger, he realizes just how much they’ve left behind & just how little he’s actually retained of it. And he’s the one who has to, now. 

Puck realizes he hasn’t answered them. They’re still waiting outside, and he hasn’t answered them. Briefly, he thinks about not answering at all, but he must have changed his mind without informing himself because he’s already opening the flap to his tent. 

Tense silence as he stares at Iago. His eyes flick from their face to their hands where the moth must be hiding before returning to their face. 

        ❝ Show me. ❞ He hates how cold his own voice sounds. 

[bloodtwin]

          LIKE  AN  OLD   &   IMPOSSIBLY  TIRED  DOG ,  Puck lets out a heavy sigh when she kisses his temple. Eyes flutter shut & the crease of his troubled brow eases up. He hadn't expected her to be kind to him after all of that, but his heart aches just a bit less than it did before because of it. 

          ❝ Thank you. It is good for them to have a friend . . .  ❞ 

He looks up at her again at the mention of a date , hands reaching to rest on her hips. ❝ Hmm. Have anywhere in mind ？❞

It has been a while since he went outside, too. He'll likely start foaming at the mouth if he doesn't get a change of scenery soon. 

SHE FROWNS AT HIS FACE, wishing she could take away that expression. Wishing she could help these twins somehow... but alas, she could not. This was something beyond her - even if that thought hurt to admit. She could not control the will of the gods, nor stop them from using mortals as puppets and playthings.

She leaned in and kissed his temple, squeezing his shoulder gently.

"Alright. I'll take 'em out for a fun day... there's a nice lil waterin' hole not too far outside the city, should be fun," she murmured.

Iago would love to go skinny dipping surely? What could be more fun and freeing than that?

"Maybe we should go out for a date at some point to, ya? It's fuckin' dreary in here - Iago ain't the only one that needs some sun."

[bloodtwin]

he wishes he was eating pussy right now . . .

[bloodtwin]

❝   。。。 ❞ 

                Something Very Bad Just Happened.

[bloodtwin]

𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐠 。 。 。

             latest grave robbed: puck is a beautiful princess 。To Me 。

@silvertiefling ⸻ ❝ "Fuckin' stay still you little shit - " Katya mutters as she tries to put some cucumbers over Puck's eyes. She's not really sure what the point is - but it's what she always sees the women in the city doing on their pampering days. She's forced Puck to lay his head on her lap and has been playing with his hair, cleaning his face and applying some weird topic mask she bought from a store. His hair is in little pony tails to keep it out of the stuff and now there's cucumbers on his eyes. Doing whatever the fuck they are. " ... Should I put a cucumber on your mouth? I dunno... that just seems right..." ❞

             𝐇𝐢𝐬   𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬   𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐞,   𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭   𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠   𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡   𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐲-𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝   𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞��,   as he lets his beautiful, lovely, utterly clueless wife have her way with him. 

Puck is used to being doted on by others, especially of the fiendish butler variety, but perhaps not in the ways one would ordinarily consider to be pampering. And certainly never by hands so clumsy & ill-suited for the task. 

He thinks he prefers it this way, far more relaxed than he's been in years. ( He might even start purring. )

             ❝ You have no idea what you're doing, do you ？❞ Puck chuckles around the words. ❝ The only thing you should be putting on my mouth is your own. ❞ 

[bloodtwin]

          ❝ IDIDN’TMEAN to ask that out loud, ❞ Puck says quickly, face flushing for the umpteenth time. ❝ I will not try to eat your bones. Promise. ❞

You’d think he’d learn not to make promises about that kind of thing, just knowing himself. He’d like to believe he has more self-control than he thinks he does.

Embarrassed, Puck focuses on the tendrils poking out from underneath Connor’s robe, but his head snaps up at the mention of eating people. 

          ❝ I DON’T ⸻ Well 。。。  I don’t know. I think I do. I don’t want to, but everything else tastes so dull. ❞ This admission is barely louder than a whisper, spoken as Puck’s tail curls around his ankle & squeezes. 

Bushy eyebrows furrow, troubled. Though they quickly rise with interest at the mention of devouring that which is alive. Puck doesn’t question it, but he does tuck the information away for later. He wonders how that works. Do they mean swallowing someone while they still breathe ？ That sounds fun. Stop that.

Luckily, he’s distracted from that train of thought as Connor continues to speak. 

Someone evil & mean to devour 。。。   Now that is a curious conundrum Puck suddenly finds himself in; one he hadn’t considered before. Is cannibalism morally justified when the one being eaten is a bad person ？？ 

          ❝ Would that- I mean, is that an okay thing to do 。。。 ？❞

"..."

Well, not the most expected question.

"No, I would not suggest eating my bones. They are foul when cracked open. You would not like them," Connor speaks with such a confidence of known experience.

He looks at the space around them. A pretty open forest right now. And none of the other teammates were around to listen to them--not that Connor would care. A lot of the group thinks that both Puck and Connor were meant for each other in a way--whether platonic or otherwise.

One was offputting physically, the other mentally. A match made in heaven. Or hell. Wherever. Whatever.

Tendrils underneath Connor's robe curl a little, until they begin to move out from underneath the fabric and reveal themselves a little more fully.

"You say you like to eat people, or something, didn't you?" Connor asks.

"Perhaps we can find someone--or something, we can eat together. Though... My tastes veer to something more... Alive."

Alive.

Like Puck.

Puck was prey. But Puck was a friend, not to be consumed. No matter how bad the hunger pangs would insist to Connor otherwise.

"How do you feel about finding someone evil and mean to devour?"

[bloodtwin]

&&.┆THE BAG OF BONES ☠️ INBOX.  

@murderreign sent: 

"So.... do you mind dying again for like, three or so minutes? The hot bitchy werewolf wants to see your corpse." Points at Katya.

STOP KILLING MY SON ！！！

OH, THIS IS A TOUGH ONE. He does like giving hot, bitchy werewolves what they want. Especially that one. 

Hmm . . .   Sigh. No. No, he thinks he prioritizes Iago's sanity more than sating a hot, bitchy werewolf's curiosity, unfortunately. No more dying for today.

❝ A tempting idea. I will have to decline, though. Sorry. ❞ 

[bloodtwin]

&&.┆@silvertiefling // continued from here.

Submission was not one of Katya's strengths, Puck knew. She could be something of a brat at times.

At first, this irritated the bhaalspawn. His mere presence would have anyone else bending at the knee, yet she stuck up her nose at him. Laughed at him. Taunted him. She had seen too much of him to feel intimidated, and this frustrated him more than he could even begin to express. It made him feel ugly. Forced him to confront a part of him that had spiraled out of control.

The truth was that Katya was not the only brat in the room. In fact, compared to Puck, she might have been the most obedient pup in the world because he was not only a brat but an entitled one. A royal brat whose every word was law & every action was correct. Either he got his way or his Father would hear about it.

Or he choked you to death. Usually he just choked you to death.

But Puck quickly learned there's a certain kind of pleasure to be derived from putting Katya in her place. Her defiance only meant her obedience was all the more satisfying. As if he'd earned it rather than received it simply because that was what people did around him. Once upon a time, he used to experience such a triumphant feeling more often as he needed to prove himself worthy of his title. He had long since proven authority, however, and the pleasure of another's obedience had become stale. Mundane. Mandatory.

Until now.

Warmth spread throughout his body when Katya got down on her knees without complaint. Puck combed his fingers through her hair, claws scratching with uncommon, practiced gentleness as her head laid on his thigh. With his spare hand, he tapped his fingers against the arm of his chair in thought.

❝ Hm . . . I was mostly curious to see what you would do, if I'm being honest. I expected you to pout. ❞ He leered down at her, still petting her head. Had she thrown a fit, he had recently acquired a muzzle he'd like to try on her.

Instead his hand fell from her hair, so he could hold her chin up with his index finger & trace her lower lip with his thumb. ❝ Does my good, sweet girl want a treat ？ ❞