#Redacted fanfic

[penumbra-mayhem]

Beautiful

David/Angel fic (t4t)

————————————

Angel groaned in frustration. It was useless, she wasn’t going to get it right. She slammed her hand down onto the bathroom counter, her bangles clinking in agreement.

Maybe it was sign. Maybe she shouldn't go. She aggressively wiped at her forehead, then groaned again as she could feel tears prick her eyes, threatening to ruin the makeup she’d spent so long perfecting.

"Angel?" David called from the living room, "Are you okay?"

She took a breath and brightened her tone, "Yep, I'm fine, just finishing up!" That tone was not bright. It was abysmally sad. And pathetic. And David could tell.

A moment later, he was marching into their bathroom. He looked dashing, decked in an all-black velvet suit, salt-and-pepper hair perfectly styled, wedding band gleaming on his finger.

The sight of him just made Angel more self-conscious. She fixed a smile on her face; he saw through it immediately.

"Beautiful, what's wrong?" he asked.

The pet name brought a flood of tears to her eyes. "Shit," Angel muttered as she threw her head back, willing the tears to stay put and not run down her cheeks.

"Angel?" David moved towards her, placing his hands on her waist.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Angel stammered, hanging her head once she got the tears under control, "Ugh, this is so stupid."

"What is?"

"Nothing,” she said, waving a hand dismissively.

"Angel..." David urged.

She huffed and looked anywhere but at him. "I just...I can't get this bindi right and I've tried like three fucking times and I don't want to wear a sticker one cause I hate how they feel on my skin but this shit is being uncooperative!" Angel ranted, shaking the bottle of liquid bindi in her angry fist, "And now I'm starting to think that maybe it's not the bindi that looks wrong and it's just my face!"

David watched as Angel caught her breath, his stare dark and unrelenting. She could hear a restrained growl rumbling in his chest.

"I'm sorry, I know I'm being stupid—"

"Angel," David cut her off, his voice like water rushing over stones, "look at me."

She sighed and raised her eyes to meet David's gaze. He looked at her like an artist looks at their muse—taking note of each detail of her skin, following the flow of her bone structure, noticing where the light hit her nose and cheeks and lips. Had it been anyone else, Angel would have felt studied and scrutinized. But with David, she just felt seen. And when he spoke, it was like being serenaded:

"Now, you know I don't say things flippantly. I mean what I say. So, hear me when I say this. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. —Ah, ah—" David interjected, cutting Angel off as she opened her mouth to argue, "The most beautiful woman. You look radiant. You look luxurious. You're breathtaking—always. With and without your makeup. With and without your bindi. No matter where you are, what you're wearing, what you're doing. You are the most beautiful. You hear me?"

Angel would have done anything to stay held in his gaze. "Yeah, I hear you,” she mumbled, not entirely convinced.

"Good. Now can I give you a kiss, or will that mess with your makeup?"

"No, you can give me a kiss."

David smirked and gingerly pressed a kiss to Angel's glossy lips. "Now give it here," he muttered.

"What?"

"The bottle," David replied, "Give it."

Angel passed him the liquid bindi and watched silently as he unscrewed it and pulled out the applicator.

"Hold still," David murmured, placing a delicate finger under her chin and tilting her head up. He held the applicator with a steady hand and dabbed her forehead with it once, then twice for good measure.

"Does that work?" David asked as he stepped back, putting the applicator back in the bottle.

Angel blinked from her love-induced stupor before turning to face the mirror. The angles of her figure that she had been agonizing over now appeared…softer. The royal blue fabric of her saree flowed over her curves just as she had been intending. Her jhumka earrings framed her jaw, the light reflecting off the gold bells and dancing playfully across her smooth skin. And the maroon bindi, placed precisely where she’d wanted it, brought the entire ensemble together. Angel started to see what David had been talking about. Radiant. Luxurious. Beautiful.

“It’s perfect,” she exhaled, before turning back around to face him, “Thank you.”

“Of course,” David said, giving her another small kiss, “anything for my angel. Now come on, let’s go.”

————————————

thanks for reading! i'm putting my thoughts here cause there are too many for the tags :P

I’ve been feeling like my fics have been a bit too dialogue-heavy, so I wrote this to practice my descriptive writing. (There still ended up being quite a bit of dialogue but oh well.)

I also kinda wanted to explore the struggle of dressing formally as a trans person. I often will have a cool formal outfit in mind for an event, but when I put it on everything looks wrong on my body and I end up not wanting to go to the event at all.

Also please note, I am not South Asian. I tried my best to do research and write accurately/respectfully, but if I wrote anything wrong feel free to correct me and please know it was not done maliciously. <3

tag: @angel-shaw

[escapisttt]

make up sex

porter runs. he always runs, but he never comes back. what will happen now that he finally has?

cw: nsfw! smut with plot read the title lol, mentions of a previous argument, some hostile dialogue

authors note: was interesting writing gender neutral smut for the first time but it’s literally not hard so anyone who tells you it is is either selfish, lazy, or uncreative.

word count: 3.6k (also the exact length of my only other redacted fic okay)

steam billowed all around the bathroom, penetrating every surface with moisture and sticking to the large rectangular mirror. treasure began undressing themself with lumbering movements, constantly tipping over left and right. after trying to take their slippers off while standing up, they again became unsteady and caught themself on the sink basin. they chuffed. when was the last time they drank like this? every time they went to a bar, they had their friends to look after. nothing’s quite as lame as being the designated driver, they thought. to them, that was another indication of their plainness; they weren’t fun enough to party with. instead, they were left to scroll on their phone while sitting on a barstool, catching themself gazing wistfully up at the chalkboard drink menu. but tonight they had indulged. not at a bar, but alone on their armchair, sipping wine and watching their ceiling go in and out of focus. they knew they’d had enough when they watched the ceiling slowly bend, rise, and fall as if there were a pair of lungs under the plaster.

once they were fully bare, they carefully stepped under the scalding water. they flinched and then froze, willing themself to not back away. they weren’t the one to run. they wouldn’t run.

they closed their eyes and let the burning water hit their front. they could already feel their chest turning a darker, uglier color. but they wouldn’t step back. they wouldn’t turn the temperature down. it felt good, the heat. images of him flashed through their mind, causing their brow to furrow in helpless frustration. his hands, his fingertips, his breath, it was all so hot. they had never felt so much heat before him. now though, they had been left cold for days. just like the outings with their ‘friends.’ after he slammed the door and ran, they were back on a lonely barstool. cold. freezing. they’d never felt so much ice before him, either.

a figure hovered in front of the bathroom door. the smell of hair conditioner wafted to the creature’s senses, his red irises eclipsed by black need. the smell called to him, screamed his name. but he shouldn’t even be there in the first place. the instinct, the guilt, the aroma—what was the matter with him? he’d fed on some poor soul minutes ago and still couldn’t focus? he wrapped his hand around the doorknob and squeezed. they weren’t singing like they usually do. was that his fault? he closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the door, focusing harder. a foul, shocking odor struck him. alcohol in their blood? was that his fault?

treasure heard the door creak open and yelped. before they could peek around the curtain…. “it’s me, darling. are you drunk?” they stayed silent and felt their fear morph into a melancholic frustration. any other well adjusted member of society would be full of terror and adrenaline if someone suddenly appeared in their home, but porter ripped away that sense of normalcy long ago. the mere sound of his voice caused an irritation, never mind him calling them ‘darling’ again. they rolled their eyes.

“what on earth are you doing here?! i thought you’d at least have the sense to throw away the key,” they spat coldly. porter’s shoulders shrank a little and he looked down at the tile. usually he would remark that he didn’t need a key anyway, but that attitude was exactly what had earned him this mess. his voice was low and small.

“you want rid of me that much?”

the rushing water dampened his sound a bit, but treasure could easily tell he was being wary and... something else. they pulled the curtain back just enough to reveal their head and took in the sight of him. a black blazer with a scarf, as usual, except his slacks were wrinkled. and his hair wasn’t even gelled. odd. they leaned against the shower wall as to not lose their footing and played off their disorientation by scoffing at him, ignoring his question. “did your king take away your wares too? you look shitty.” porter didn’t laugh, and he certainly didn’t miss the indignation behind the word ‘king.’ he approached and loomed over them, masking his annoyance.

“please, enough about him. you’re drunk.”

they scoffed again and went back to their shower routine, rinsing the rest of their hair. they didn’t close the curtain though. porter took the subtle invitation and leaned against the drywall, watching them through the gap in the curtain. he widened it a bit with his hand and started again. “i can fix that for you. give me your hand and you’ll be sober.” porter never knew them as one to indulge so heavily. he didn’t want to push as to why they had drank because he had a feeling it would only make them blow up at him, but he couldn’t deny there was a part of him that wanted to prod. the way they prodded him. but not this time.

treasure mulled over his words and extended their hand without looking back at him. they of all people knew how senseless drunk conversations can be. porter gently took their hand and tried not to linger on how whole it made him feel. using magic, he traced the excess amounts of alcohol in their bloodstream and dissipated it. he stood watchfully, trying not to overstep but wanting desperately to keep hold of them during the jarring sobering. they wobbled on their feet with their eyes closed for a moment before opening and snapping their gaze back at him. there was the alertness they were lacking. “clearer?” he asked, to which they gave him a curt nod.

now that they were in their right mind, they scanned over his form once more: he wasn't a drunken illusion. an awkward silence fell over the pair. treasure's eyes flitted back and forth between porter and the shower wall. when porter didn't take the hint, they eventually spoke up. “get in if you want. you just look stupid standing there,” they mumbled, yanking the curtain shut.

porter’s clothes instantly phased away as he yielded to the insult and stepped into the enclosed space. he stayed opposite of treasure and kept his back pressed against the wet tile, his arms wrapped around his middle. treasure threw him a look over their shoulder, snickering dryly. “you only have good manners after we fight?” the vampire let out an amused huff from his nostrils and hung his head.

“it seems it always takes something drastic to make me learn, yes.”

treasure turned around fully and reached for their body scrub, looking up at him as they bent down. their gaze was steely but their lips were tempting. “well i haven’t heard a ‘sorry,’ so do i have to beat one out of you?” they joked humorlessly.

those words caused the flame of guilt to lick at porter’s skin once more. ‘beat one out of him’—were they being sarcastic at their own expense? the inhuman strength in every muscle fiber in his body told him yes. god, he used that against them in their argument. he talked down to them, using ‘human’ as an insult, shoving in their face how much power he held over them. he didn’t start the fight, but he didn’t have to finish it like that. he’d never harm them, but he gave them such a strong implication that he could and made them feel bad about it. he called them stupid for even being with him, made himself out to be a monster they needed to run from. but they both knew porter was the one who was running. even so, in all of porter’s long existence, treasure was the first thing he’d ever ran back to. he could lose everything, but not them.

porter took a small step forward with his head still hanging and motioned for the container of body scrub. treasure gave him a puzzled look. the vampire sighed and took another step, gently taking the container from their hand and setting it down. “treasure, i….” he considered their choice of words again. he finally raised his head and looked into their eyes. “you can—you can do anything you want to me. i’m very sorry for what i said, but… whatever satisfies you. whatever gives you power.”

the vampire in front of treasure was not one they easily recognized. his eyes were nearly-black orbs and shone with desperate longing. porter solaire was a slighting creature, who was this? it was porter, just porter. treasure gave him a slow nod. “make it up to me.”

the vampire’s eyes lit up and he swiftly made his move. his lips attached to treasure’s neck, fangs firmly retracted. this wasn’t about him, nothing tonight was about him. his hands slid up the wet slopes of their hips and waist. a trapped moan escaped him when he felt them like that. he was touching god and it was burning, but he loved it. his kisses trailed across their neck and up their chin, aiming for their perfect lips. but when he tried to reach them, a resounding smack echoed in their steamy enclosure. porter blinked and his head was whipped around to the right, a red hot sting on his cheek. treasure’s hand returned to grip his jaw and pointed his head forward at them.

“i didn’t give you permission to kiss me. you think you deserve my lips?” porter could’ve cum right there. he shook his head.

“no, no i don’t. can i earn it?” his voice was like nothing they had heard before.

“you can. do what i said and make it up to me. you know what i like.”

porter nodded once more before sinking to his knees, his hands slipping down their body reverently. he groaned at the smell of their arousal, his eyes rolling back and then locking back onto theirs. he briefly recalled the night they first met. if only he had known how mad he would go for the taste of what was in front of him.

the vampire pressed light kisses around their groin with his eyes remaining trained on theirs. just how they like it. “i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm so sorry,” he repeated in between kisses. treasure's hand came down to muss up his hair and his erection twitched. they nodded at him with a pleased grin and gave him a tug as a reward. his precum dribbled onto the grout.

shortly, porter's efforts made it so treasure leaked more of their own arousal; that was porter’s cue. he licked a long stripe upward, collecting their slick on his flattened tongue and letting out a whine at their salty taste. he quickly dove in for more, moaning louder than treasure. his hands were planted firmly in his lap, not touching himself or the beauty before him; he knew he wasn’t deserving of doing either. treasure smiled and leaned their head back, their hips bucking in a smooth rhythm against his mouth. porter could cry at their movement—the gorgeous fluidity and the signal that he was giving it to them right.

nothing ever felt as right as when he was giving them pleasure. he couldn’t count how many nights he would spend god knows where, making god knows who disappear; it wasn’t in his nature to bring anything but pain. he was a sinner through and through, but that first night with treasure at skyside, he thinks, he began repenting. he found religion in every breath they took, every twitch of ecstasy he fed them. he felt holy at their feet.

“porter, i’m so close,” they gasped, causing the vampire’s dead heart to pound. he nodded emphatically, shaking his head side to side just to give them that extra stimulation. his desperate moans also sent vibrations to their sensitive flesh, setting their nerves alight. their grip on his hair was lethal and porter’s arousal was reaching a tipping point. he no longer had control over himself; treasure was pushing and pulling and holding his face flush against them until any normal human would’ve suffocated. porter’s mind was going hazy as if he was, his true feelings emerging from thoughtless bliss.

“i could die,” he panted as he gazed up at them, “let me die like this.” they climaxed only a second later.

ambrosia seeped onto porter’s tongue and he drank piously, catching every drop. treasure’s wanton whimpers and breaths filled the vampire’s ears and he couldn’t have been happier. he knew this is where he belonged, and he wouldn’t ever forgive himself for nearly forsaking it.

treasure finally let go of porter’s hair and he whined at the loss. they chuckled breathlessly and patted their chest, signaling that they wanted to be eye to eye. the vampire quickly stood, hissing quietly when his painful erection brushed up against their stomach. he swallowed at the closeup view of their blissed-out face; their eyes were in a lazy, seductive droop, but their grin was what ensnared him. he hadn’t seen one in days and now he’d earned one back, no matter the sadistic undertones behind it. they reached a hand out and cupped his cheek, smiling wider when his eyelids fluttered at the touch. porter didn’t notice their hand sneaking down to grip his base and his eyes shot open once he felt it.

“i’m assuming you want this taken care of?” they teased, tapping his cock against their stomach. he groaned pathetically, putting his hands on the wall behind them. he gripped at nothing, fingers clenching and unclenching around nothing and trying not to crack the tile. hovering over treasure was a beast of incomprehensible strength, holding himself back for one reason: forgiveness.

“treasure… i’m begging you.”

their wolfish grin slowly faded as they leaned in closer, squeezing his cock harshly. “and you’ll keep begging until i forgive you.” with that, they released him and shut off the water, promptly snatching their towel and stepping onto the floor mat without him. they left the bathroom before he could even process what they said.

the vampire blinked and hurried after them, bare and dripping wet. treasure was already laying on their back in bed, equally naked and damp. their towel was beneath them and they gazed at him expectantly. porter’s eyes widened as he realized what they wanted. he could hardly believe it. with vampiric speed, he was on his knees over them in a split second. their legs were spread and knees bent up, the sight making him look away and curse. god, he couldn’t take it. but treasure wasn’t having that. a smack to the thigh and his eyes were snapped open.

“you’ll look at me when you fuck me, or i’ll make you stop. don’t even fucking blink,” they threatened lowly. porter moaned but nodded, leaning down to be closer to them. without breaking eye contact, he spat on his fingers and rubbed it on their entrance, hoping to please them again. they sighed airily and reached down for his cock, unexpectedly prodding themself with it. porter gasped and almost lost his balance, catching himself on the pillow next to their head. they snickered and rolled their eyes, easing his length inside of them. it was still faster than porter ever started off, and he showed his unpreparedness by cursing and gripping their sheets. they swiftly got him fully seated and let them both settle into it, their gummy walls hugging porter’s cock snugly. he looked as if he was containing a scream.

“t-treasure you—gods, you could’ve hurt yourself doing that,” he heaved, his chest rising and falling as he tried not to cum. in response, they dug their nails into the small of his back and raked down to his ass, watching his head roll back and his mouth gape. always a sucker for pain, scratches were his favorite kryptonite. treasure had an unreadable look and gave the command he had been yearning for.

“i’m fine, just fuck me. don’t you dare go slow.”

porter was mildly concerned by their order, but he had to give them what they wanted. he would rather die than not. his hips pulled back until just his tip was inside before coming back down, thrusting smoothly into them. the sinful sound of his hips smacking into the back of their thighs drove them both wild. treasure’s nails only sank deeper into his skin, causing porter’s own wobbly grin to emerge. he fucked them faster, egged on by the delicious sting. he lowered himself more so their bodies were flush. their nipples rubbed against his chest and he panted in their ear, “like this, my love? tell me, please tell me i’m giving you what you want. fuck….”

in their own rapture, they nodded and turned their head to smile back at him. their words were mere breathy puffs of air. “uh-huh… yes, god yes. don’t stop ‘til i cum.” as if porter would’ve done otherwise.

treasure was making such a mess of themself it was audible. the vampire looked down and saw the telltale shiny slick, whining in their ear at the sight. they were so turned on for him. he put his weight on his left forearm which rested above their head and used his free hand to snake down their stomach, reaching their leaking essence. he put the pad of his thumb on their most sensitive spot and stroked up and down, up and down, earning strangled, surprised moans. his eyes bore into theirs as he continued his ministrations while fucking them, his expression one of a dog that just performed a trick for its owner: hopeful, eager, and aching for approval. “fuck, that’s how you like it…. i’ll make you cum, i’ll make you cum so fucking hard, treasure.”

the vampire was reaching speeds only his kind are able to, making treasure’s thighs ripple in ways they hadn’t felt before. porter never had a reason to fuck them this good before, and now that he was, they didn’t think they could ever go back. their body was bouncing as they lay down, mouth agape with licentious sounds pouring out. they hated that their hostility had crumbled under his hips, but they knew they’d have hated themself more if they pushed him away. right then, they just wanted to cum on his cock.

the bed frame squeaked and slid against the floor, banging against the wall. porter’s tempo was perfect, so fucking good against that sweet spongy spot inside them, his tip kissing it over and over. he didn’t know how he was holding it together. “i’m getting close, treasure. fuck, you have to cum, you have to,” he choked out in a frenzy. his thumb rubbed and stroked them faster, his hips losing rhythm but gaining speed. somehow through their pleasure-blinded haze, treasure looked porter in the eyes and raked their nails once more down his back. fuck, he wished he could scar.

“mm, beg me. beg for my cum,” they demanded with a groan. porter felt himself instantly melt under their authority and he whined in frustration, his knees almost buckling at their words. he fucked them faster and complied.

“fuck, please treasure! i need your cum, i fucking need it! i can’t—i can’t cum before you, i don’t deserve it. you have to cum for me, m-my love. i’ll never fucking raise my voice at you again, never. gods, oh my gods, please please please cum!”

he looked in their eyes the whole time, beggarly and despairing. treasure couldn’t help but succumb to all of the pleasure he was throwing at them. a few deep, swift thrusts later and they were creaming all over him. they went stiff and their mouth dropped open in a silent scream. porter felt their hole clench and pulse around him, effortlessly sending him down the same path. his cum pumped inside of them in thick ropes of ivory. he buried his head in their neck and let out a continuous string of groans and whimpers, hips shallowly bucking with each spurt of cum. his thumb never stopped stroking even as treasure reached the end of their climax. they enjoyed that slight bit of overstimulation, so they didn’t stop him. it was endearing how focused he was on making them feel good even in the throes of his own ecstasy.

porter eventually finished and collapsed beside them, eyes shut and breaths heavy. treasure remained on their back and stared up at the ceiling just as they were before he arrived. though, they were now drunk on him instead of wine. his cum steadily oozed out of them and they briefly thanked themself for having the foresight to put the towel underneath them.

“you’re cleaning this up,” they mumbled, breaking the silence. porter had practically rendered their shower useless, after all. the vampire cracked an eye open and wore a neutral expression.

“of course i am, my sweet, but in a moment. i missed this,” he replied evenly. treasure simply nodded and went back to staring upward. their gaze shifted to the ceiling fan and focused on a single fan blade, following it through each slow revolution. they felt a hand cautiously slide across their stomach, ending up cupping their side. porter scooted closer to them and held them like that, almost balling himself up in the fetal position beside them. they didn’t look over at him. they were afraid if they did, they would break. a part of them was still upset at him and knew they would confront him again, but the larger part told them that now was not the time. if they looked over at him now, they knew they would forget why they were even mad at him in the first place. for now, in this moment, they would let sleeping dogs lie and bask in the arms of a creature who would do anything for them, knowingly or not.

@vind3miat0r :)))

[aggro-my-beloved]

David and Darlin’ are the type to take walks during pack solstice parties and talk shit about other attendees like siblings and cousins do at thanksgiving. Passing a cigarette back and forth, possibly sneaking a bottle of something on the way out of the door. Sam and Angel have since been invited to these secret outings due to mate/in-law association, and encourage them to spill tea with the ingredients no more than a block away.

and that’s how you headcanon people.

[messenger-of-stupidity]

(Shhhhh i havent been dead, ive just been depressed anyways, have some angst)

Treasure stared at the door. How could they not? Porter's words were echoing in their head like some kind of discordant melody that was on loop, scraping at the darker edges of their mind that they always tried so desperately to ignore. To cover up. To push to the side like their laundry.

They had just been trying to help. Nobody liked them unless they were offering something, unless they were helping. Their friends used them like a personal therapist. It was one of the rare times that their friends actually initiate interactions. When they either needed an ear or a responsible driver.

But Porter hadn't needed that. And they didn't know how to handle that, how to come to terms with it. Treasure sat down heavily on their couch, feeling tears slide down onto to their already warm face. Pathetic. What would tears solve?

That glass house he had mentioned... it was shattering down around them. Cracking and fissures spreading. And the glass would fall on them as they stayed trapped in place. The glass would cut into their skin, sever veins and arteries. And their blood would spill, dripping like crimson seeds planted to bloom into macabre flowers.

The blood that had been the base of their relationship with Porter. Should they have just offered him their blood to cheer him up? Would he even have wanted it? Wanted them? They were so weak, so mundane, so irrelevant compared to him. He had decades on them, immeasurable power, unimaginable experiences.

If they couldn't help him, then why would he even bother to stay with them? Their effort to help had made everything worse.

Treasure's mind was running in circles. Over and over and over again. They were spinning, spiraling out of control. Their hands gripped their hair by the roots, pulling as their shoulders shook.

Where was their help? Where was their savior? Their therapist? Where were the people who were supposed to bend over backwards and press to check on them? Were they always destined to be alone and abandoned?

Their lungs ached. They hadn't taken a breath yet. Treasure forced a stuttering sharp breath to ease the burning in their chest. It did nothing to fix the burn in their eyes that morphed to a blur of colors and shades. More tears. Always crying.

Why were they always crying? Their problems didn't matter, not in comparison. Why did everything have to be compared to something? Why couldn't they matter?

Why won't the noise stop?

[sandypuppet]

Ever since Erik switched to posting every Friday the weeks have felt insanely longer

[heartf0ul]

Ok

WHICH ONE OF YOU SICK MOTHERFUCKERS MADE THAT GOSDS DAMNED SHAW FIREFIGHTER AU!?! I KNOW YO ASS IS ON HERE GET OUT HERE AND FACE ME COWARD

CUZ WHAT THE FUCK. ARE TOU OK? ARE U BEING HELD HOSTAGE BY A MASOCHIST? ARE U A SADIST? WHY 

[c0rvus-corax]

When Milo sleeps, he breathes pretty loudly. It's like a mix between snoring and breathing. Idk a better way to explain it. It's just a slight rattel when a breaths out. How loud this is probably depends on the way he is laying in bed (on his back, side, etc).

Sam is probably the quietest sleeper in the group. I just feel like him being a vampire makes him breathe really slow and quiet. This ofcours includes sleeping.

I can't decide if David makes no noise when sleeping, or if he snors like his life depends on it. The vibe he gives from an outside perspective is definitely being a quiet sleeper, but something in me is telling me otherwise. Idk, something just tells me that occasionally, he snors really, really loud.

Asher makes all kinds of noises while sleeping. He talks, grouns, moans, and breathes in very heavily. You get the drill. Now, he isn't always this talkative, but it happens.

[azzyangelfish]

Leather Jacket (Angel/David)

By: azzyangelfish

Description: Angel goes to put on their new leather jacket…at least they thought they grabbed their’s…

“Angel, you’re going to be freezing if you don’t put a jacket on.”

“But Davey it’s June it’s finneee.”

“Angel. Go put on a jacket please. Didn’t you get the leather jacket the other day so that we could ‘match’?” Davey asked with a slight grumble, trying to hide the fact that them buying a leather jacket so they could match him was actually really cute. Angel’s eyes lit up as their signature shit-eating grin appeared on their face. “If you wear yours I’ll wear the jacket!”

David sighed, performatively, feigning annoyance as he grabbed his leather jacket from its hook by the door. Angel dashed to the bedroom and rummaged through the closet to find their leather jacket.

Soon enough they found the jacket, and despite having only purchased it the other day, felt rather comfortable and didn’t have that same ‘new clothes’ feel. Regardless, Angel thrust their arms through the arm holes and the jacket fit like a glove. Running back to meet David in the foyer they still had their signature grin plastered on their face. Practically tackling David in a hug when they saw him.

“Ok now I’m wearing a jacket! Now can we go you grump?” They teased. David huffed, nose buried in their hair before pulling back.

“Hey, I’m jot a grump for wanting my mate to be warm you menace. But yes, we can go-“ David stopped midway through his sentence as he properly got a good look at his mate…more particularly what they were wearing. His eyes widened in confusion at first, and Angel cocked their head to the side curiously. “Hm? What’s wrong Davey?” They asked confused, their face no longer dawning their signature grin, now taking on a soft but concerned expression. David barely registered what they were saying as he had predator-like tunnel vision honed in on their jacket.

Or rather, Gabe’s jacket.

See Angel thought they had grabbed their new leather jacket from the closet. When in fact they had actually grabbed Gabe’s old leather jacket that was hanging out in the front of the closet.

David’s stare morphed from one of confusion to one of pure sadness. David rarely ever had puppy-dog eyes, but the old, stale scent of Gabe still lingering on the jacket, now mixed with his mate’s scent was enough for his eyes to go soft and wide. Angel met David’s stare with a soft but hesitant expression, finally catching a glimpse of themselves in foyer mirror.

They looked confused as the jacket they were wearing definitely wasn’t their’s and it looked identical to the one that David was wearing but it couldn’t be because he was wearing it so who’s…oh.

Oh no.

Angel looked up at David and blinked owlishly, “This…this isn’t my jacket is it?” They mumbled out and met David’s stare. The alpha shook his head stiffly while staring at his mate with wide, sad eyes. Angel stared back at David and the pair stared at each other in complete silence for several seconds.

Angel started to quietly slip the jacket off and hung it on the hook behind David. They put another jacket on and David blinked himself back to reality. He quietly pulled Angel into his arms, and held them for a moment. They hugged him back and the pair of mates just quietly held each other.

“I’m sorry David…” Angel mumbled quietly against David’s chest, prompting him to tilt their chin up with his finger. When they finally met his gaze, Angel saw that the eyes they were met with were soft and no longer filled with grief. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Angel, you didn’t make a mistake. You have nothing to apologize for.” David leaned down and softly kissed Angel. Angel smiled gently and held David’s body close against theirs.

They didn’t end up going on that walk, but in all honesty, it felt better to just hold each other. Gabe’s jacket nestled between the two of them as David explained the story behind each and every scuff and worn patch on the jacket.

@angelfiedyaz

[angelicaether]

'24 Sky Side Holiday Exchange!

It's the second annual Sky Side holiday exchange! We're back and bigger this year with almost double the amount of participants! I hope you enjoy these pieces and all of the love and care that went into them! The artists will be tagged above their piece! There's a few folks who posted google docs/directly in our server so I won't be sharing those - just know I appreciate y'alls efforts as well! To my server folks: I love you all so dearly and its always a joy to run projects like this! I hope you all had fun giving and receiving and I hope we can do it again next year <33

@pinksparkl - Guy/Honey https://archiveofourown.org/works/62031166 @gingerbreadmonsters - Lasko/Dear https://archiveofourown.org/works/62025559 @agentplutonium - Blake/Bestie https://archiveofourown.org/works/62031892 @androgynouspenguinexpert - Damien/Huxley (designs from @penncilkid )

@kilarthmac - Angel/David (Designs from @mr-laveau )

@/BlueWhispers (AO3 only) - Asher/Babe https://archiveofourown.org/works/62027428

@mars-mell - Gavin/Freelancer (Designs by @ryoko-san)

This was mine! - David/Angel https://archiveofourown.org/works/62032561/chapters/158641213 @nortyourself - Guy/Honey (Design by @/ratjams)

@deviarisa - Freelancer/Gavin https://archiveofourown.org/works/62026723 @cashandprizes - Vega/Pet https://archiveofourown.org/works/62032570 @me10dys - Freelancer/Gavin https://archiveofourown.org/works/62032843 @your-local-mom-whore - Porter/Treasure https://archiveofourown.org/works/62031805 @sincerelywhistler - Gavin (design from @mars-mell)

@mr-laveau - Vega/Huxley (A very cropped version for...reasons...) (designs from @sincerelywhistler )

@stardreamers25 - Christian/Alexis (designs from @autisticempathydaemon)

@sylentnights - David/Angel (This is my angel ^^ )

@/ratjams on Instagram - Marcus/Asset

@remcyart - Vincent/Lovely

@ryoko-san - Sam/David

@lovelylonerliterature - Guy/Honey https://archiveofourown.org/works/62035444 @pycth - Gavin

[aimedis]

WORST KIND OF FLIRT (A TEASE) | WIP WEDNESDAY !!

vincent x lovely actors!au | happy new year everybody! i hope 2025 treats you all well. as my gift to you i shall present you with none other than the unedited version of chapter one of this idea that i talked about ages ago. i've had this chapter written for like about a month and a half but don't get your hopes up for the remaining chapters 😭 i'm gonna try but i honestly can't write for shit and i have no motivation. but if you guys like it, i'll try harder ig lmao

cw - actor au obvi, directors!angel and david, love at first sight but it's literally just lovely and vincent flirting immediately (they don't actually fall in love until later), lovely being a bit insecure, mainly lovely's pov (it switches to angel and david for a second), korean!vincent and lovely, mentions of vincent being adopted by william at ten years old for unspecified reasons, we're ignoring the drama going on between them rn okay, darlin shows up for half a second and sam for even less, says 'laughs' way too much, i know nothing about acting and auditions and whatnot okay 😭

wc - 3.6k

hope you enjoy!

“You’re going to be a star.”

Lovely’s been told that close to a billion times in their life. It used to make them really happy when they were a kid. They’d grin up at their mom when she would tell them about all the awesome movies and TV shows they would act in once they were older. They’d practice in front of a mirror for hours at a time, reciting the few lines they were expected to memorise as a little eight-year-old. Even at that age, they wanted more. More lines, more chances to prove themselves worthy of the big screen, more of the spotlight. They only wanted to shine as bright as possible, to make their family proud.

“You’re a star.”

It feels egotistical to them, to say that they’re a star. But it would be completely ignorant of them to pretend they hadn’t made it far. Getting recognized every time they stepped foot outside, having people stand in line for autographs, people using their name and face for school projects, and not to mention, getting thousands of dollars just to say the name of a brand. As much as it warmed their heart, it got to be quite disorienting at times. To think that they went from being a complete nobody outside of their school plays and small commercials to being so… well known.

It was also really privacy-invading. Paparazzi was going to be the death of them.

But that’s the price I pay, Lovely muses to themselves as they try their best to breeze past the flashing lights and cameras being shoved in their face while they try to walk into the studio.

“..they could be a little less obnoxious about it though. Can’t believe this shit’s legal.”

Lovely looks up and squints to regain steady vision from nearly being blinded. Belatedly, they snort when they see Darlin glaring at the door they had just walked through.

“Yeah,” They say breathlessly, slipping their jacket off.

Darlin pats them on the head, “You need anything before they call you in? They said in about half an hour.”

Lovely leans into their hand, “‘M okay. I’ll just play games on my phone. Did Sam go in already for Daniel?”

The (slightly) taller of the two nods and gently leads Lovely over to a few seats in a slightly secluded area, “He should be done a little while though. I already went so do you want us to wait with you before you go in? We can take you home.”

Lovely was tempted to say no, say that they don’t need to look after them. They wanted to say that they weren’t a baby (even though they were significantly younger than both Darlin and Sam) who needed to be coddled.

But when Darlin guides them to sit down, fixing their hair, they only exhale softly. As long as they don’t need to call an Uber.

“Yes please. If it’s not too much trouble.”

Darlin grins, “Never for you, spark.”

Lovely huffs and pouts up at them, “Don’t call me that, weirdo.”

They only laugh and sit next to Lovely, sliding their phone out of their back pocket.

They rest their head on Darlin’s shoulder, going to scroll on their own phone to kill time.

✩★✩★✩

Lovely inhales sharply when their name is called out along with someone else. They clear their throat, and stand up, “Wish me luck, I guess.”

It shouldn’t still make them so nervous to do auditions after doing so many of them in their life. And it usually doesn’t. However, not only was this film one of the bigger ones they were called in to audition for, their agent said this one was right up their alley. And after they read the summary and script, they agreed. This one was perfect for them. The character Kaia was perfect for them. They wanted this role more than they’ve wanted any role in their life.

The male lead Lucas also happened to be their ideal type but that was neither here nor there.

“Good luck,” Sam flashes them a smile, “This is easy work for you.”

Darlin nods, “Don’t stress, you’ve got this in the bag.”

But what if someone better comes around?

Lovely leaves that unsaid, now was not the time to be insecure. They needed to have confidence.

But really they couldn’t help themselves, they read a couple hate comments too. Of course, they tried to tell themselves that the positive outweighs the negative and that the good comments were always so much more detailed and substantial than just “they’re not pretty”.

They take a deep breath and nod once, hardly noticing the other actor who stood up at the same time, walking back into the audition room. They smile back at Sam and Darlin before turning around.

They’re a star.

✩★✩★✩

Lovely walks slowly into the backroom where the auditions were being held, seeing only one other person standing around the door. They were so stuck in their own head about the person they would be acting with that they failed to notice the person they would be acting with.

They’re going over their lines in their head as they step into the hallway, reminding themselves to breathe when a voice knocks them out of their train of thought.

“So, you’re my Kaia.”

Lovely’s face prematurely scrunches in disgust before they even turn to look at whoever this guy was, not registering his tone and utterly annoyed they had to act with one of those guys. Again. They’ve worked with people like him before, revolting middle-aged men who only looked younger and thought it was okay to touch and sleazily flirt with their young co-star because they played love interests. Every other film they’ve acted in since they were 18. They were sick and tired and really wanted to enjoy this one so they turned to face this supposed middle-aged man so they could tell him off and set some boundaries.

However, they were met with the most handsome face they’ve ever seen in their life. He was smiling, not smirking, at them, his eyes shimmered even in the bright fluorescent lights, and his face looked sculpted by the gods. Lovely couldn’t help but let their eyes trail further down, scanning his body that they could somehow tell was just perfect underneath his hoodie and baggy jeans.

He laughs and—holy shit, Lovely thinks they’ve died and gone to heaven, he was so beautiful. Lovely snaps out of their little trance and meets his eyes properly, his beautiful brown eyes, when it clicks.

Oh my god, this is Vincent Solaire.

They also hadn’t known him personally, they acted in very different genres. They hadn’t even been a fan, per say. But he was just as well-known as they were. William Solaire, his father and agent, was a director they had worked under and that was one of their favourites.

Lovely inhales when Vincent brushes his hair out of his face.

“I would say you match Kaia’s description perfectly but.. I think you’re better.”

“Oh yeah?” Lovely laughs breathily, “Do you flatter all of your co-stars like this, or am I special?”

Vincent looks them up and down slightly and Lovely swears he looks at their lips, “You’re definitely.. special, Lovely was it?”

They nod, “Vincent?”

“In the flesh,” He grins.

Lovely smiles back, not having it in them to feel ashamed at the blush spreading across their face, only because he was blushing too.

“You don’t usually act in rom-coms,” Lovely hums, leaning back against the wall, “Why this one?”

Vincent’s grin widens, “You keep tabs on what I act in?”

Lovely shrugs, “I mean you’re not a nobody, I’ve seen you around. And where you are, Sam is. Gotta support my best friend’s man, you know?”

Vincent breathes a laugh, “Ah, that’s right. You’re Darlin’s twin flame.”

“In the flesh,” They repeat with a matching smile.

Vincent scoffs playfully, “Copy cat.”

Lovely snorts.

“Well,” Vincent continues, “I just wanted to try something new, you know? You can only act in thrillers and shit like that for so long before you need to switch it up to something more lighthearted.” He says, still smiling.

Lovely senses that wasn’t the whole truth but they nod, “I see. I’ve only acted in a handful of horror movies but I get it. They’re a little draining.”

“Oh yeah, you were in Locked Down.” He recalls, “I love that movie, you were phenomenal in it. Your acting was so realistic.”

Lovely smiles slightly, they always got a little sheepish whenever they got praised for their acting or any skill at all. You’d think they’d be used to it by now.

“Yeah well,” They clear their throat, “Screaming so much made my head hurt for days so I would hope it was good.”

Vincent laughs a bit hesitantly, “I’d say it paid off.”

Lovely laughs as well, going to say something else but the door in front of them swings open a little. They glance over only to freeze at the familiar face of Angel Shaw themselves standing in front of them.

Not familiar on a personal level, of course not. Lovely had never met them personally, but they and their husband were some of the most famous actors turned directors in North America. Lovely grew up watching Angel on TV and they were part of the reason Lovely even wanted to act in the first place. But even as they rose in popularity, Lovely always admired Angel and David and any film they directed. It was another recent dream of theirs to act under them, and this was their chance.

Angel looks at the two actors standing around the door and they smile, stepping out to show their full body, “Good morning, you two! Good to see you again, Vincent. We’ll be right with you both in a moment.” They turn to look at Lovely specifically, “Hi, there. I know we talked over the phone once and I’ve spoken with your agent but it’s nice to see you in person.”

You wouldn’t believe how happy I am right now, Lovely cried internally, trying to hide the star struck look on their face.

They clear their throat, “I-It’s nice to see you too. I’m a really big fan of your and David’s work.”

Angel laughs softly, “Why, thank you! That means a lot. We also enjoy watching you act, it’s truly beautiful.”

Lovely nearly died on the spot and they prayed to whatever god was listening that it didn’t show on their face. They barely squeak out a ‘thank you’ before Angel settles back into their professionalism.

They look at their clipboard, “So, you’ve both been called in to play the main characters and love interests Kaia and Lucas obviously. This “audition” is mainly just to see how well you two act together. Your chemistry, if you will. You’ll have like five-ish minutes to talk with each other and introduce yourselves and then we’ll start, okay?”

They both nod and Angel looks back up.

“Okay!” They smile and peer back into the room, “David? Are we good to go?”

“Yeah, send ‘em in.”

Angel nods towards the inside of the room, “Come on in then.”

Lovely dazedly steps into the room.

The room was bigger than it looked from the outside. There was a long table with six seats, four of which were occupied, the one to the right of David Shaw was empty, Lovely assumes that’s Angel's seat.

Angel points to the small table, “You guys can sit over there and get to know each other a little better and we’ll call you over, alright?”

Lovely and Vincent both nod and step in sync over to the corner. They both sit down and smile at each other.

“So Vincent, where are you from?” Lovely asks.

Vincent grins, “Well, I think it’s common knowledge that I was adopted by William when I was 10. But my birth parents were Korean and so were most of my foster parents until William adopted me.”

Lovely’s eyes light up, “Oh same!” They pause with a small laugh, “Not that- not that I was adopted but my parents are both Korean immigrants.”

Vincent laughs as well, “Really? Do you speak Korean then?”

Lovely’s nose scrunches, “I’m like- fairly fluent. I’m not as well-spoken as I am in English. My dad dogs on me for it all the time. You?”

“God, I have the speaking ability of a fourth grader.” Vincent scoffs, “Obviously, since I was adopted at 10 by a non-Korean man, my Korean just stopped ageing with me once I stopped putting in effort.”

They nod with a smile, “I get it. Have you tried learning more now that you’re an adult?”

“Not really? I think I tried a couple times when I turned 21 but I got impatient. But hey, maybe you could teach me,” Vincent tilts his head to the side, smiling at them.

Lovely stops breathing as they glance down at his lips.

“Yeah… I could.”

They blink when Vincent laughs, focusing back on his eyes.

“Mesmerized, Lovely?” He hums, beaming from ear to ear.

Lovely scoffs playfully, “You wish, pretty boy.”

“Think I’m pretty, huh?”

“Yeah well,” They smile a little more shyly, “I’m not blind.”

They delight in seeing the slight pink tint that spreads across Vincent’s cheeks.

He grins slightly, returning the small glance down at Lovely’s lips, “Yeah? I think you’re pretty too. Gorgeous, even.”

Lovely breathes a short flustered laugh, “Jeez, is this a part of the script? This is a lot of flattery for getting to know my co-star for an audition.”

Vincent laughs a little louder, “I’m only getting into character, of course. My Kaia.” He reaches over to gently hold Lovely’s hand laying on the table.

And Lovely feels their entire stomach light up brighter than a Fourth of July night. They swallow, forcing themselves to keep their breathing stable. They sigh shakily, “Yeah…”

Neither of them realize how long they’ve been looking into each other’s eyes until David’s voice calls from the other side of the room.

“We’re ready to get started, you two. Are you ready?”

Neither of them flinch. Not at all.

Vincent looks away first and gently drops Lovely’s hand, nodding at the directors. The two stand and walk over to stand in front of the table.

“Alright,” Angel looks up from the papers in front of them and smiles, “You can start whenever you’re ready.”

Vincent and Lovely both nod at the directors and then at each other, settling themselves into their roles. By the light waltz music starts playing softly in the background, they are both fully immersed into another world.

Vincent smiles completely poised in a way that is unlike earlier, holding his hand out towards Lovely, “Kaia. I’ve heard a lot about you from your father.”

Lovely grins back at him hesitantly, taking his hand, “That so? Lucas, is it?”

He hums as he pulls them into a slow dance of swaying back and forth, holding onto their waist loosely with his free hand, “That’s me. Prince of the House of Solaire.”

Lovely rests their right hand on Vincent’s shoulder, “Not the typical name for a royal, hm? I saw a picture of you and assumed James or Alexander.”

Vincent laughs.

✩★✩★✩

David leans over to whisper in Angel’s ear as the other casting directors spoke to the two, “They’re really good at this. I could hardly tell they were reading off a script.”

Angel snorts, tapping their pen against their paper, “Uh huh.”

He furrows his brows, “What, you don’t think they’re good?”

“No, no, not that. They’re wonderful,” Angel shakes their head with a laugh, “They’re just uhh- it feels like a little more than acting, no?”

David shrugs with a small smile, “I don’t know, Angel, maybe they’re just good at their job.”

“Right.” They roll their eyes, “And they were eye-fucking over there without the script for fun.”

“You shouldn’t speak about your actors like that, Angel.” David breathes a laugh, “And you know how insane actors are these days when it comes to getting into character. Remember Milo and the FBI Agent Incident?”

Angel stifles a louder laugh, “Oh god. They weren’t even using real guns for the shoot, he didn’t need to go to a shooting range everyday for a month.”

David bites his tongue with a grin, turning back to the two once Babe had finished speaking. He writes something down on his sheet of paper, “That was great guys, thank you so much. That’ll be it. We’ll get back to you in the next week.”

Angel bids the two goodbye and rests their head on David’s shoulder once they’re out of the room, looking down at his papers and snorting, “Didn’t need any time to think about it, huh?

David shakes his head, “God, no. They’ve had the job since they walked in here.”

✩★✩★✩

Vincent holds the door open for Lovely as they leave, to which they snort.

“Thanks, prince charming.” They pat his shoulder playfully.

He laughs and closes it behind him. Lovely jerks their head to the side to indicate Vincent follow them back to the main part of the building with a confidence they did not feel.

Vincent sticks his hands in his pockets, “Not to sound too proud, but I think we nailed that.”

“Obviously,” Lovely nods with a smile,”You could have looked at my lips a little less though.”

His eyes scrunch up into those little half-moons again to emphasize his amusement, “Well, who could blame me? They’re very nice to look at.”

Lovely raises an eyebrow, stopping once they reach the end-of-hallway door, “Only to look at?”

Vincent, once again, glances down at their lips as they spin around to face him whilst leaning against the door. He breathes a barely there ghost of a laugh, “Maybe more. Who knows?”

Lovely can’t contain the wide smile that overtakes their features, squeezing a fist behind their back to attempt to contain their excitement. Vincent looks back up at their eyes after a moment, shifting back into focus.

His head tilts slightly and he smiles sincerely, “You have beautiful eyes, Lovely.”

How they didn’t collapse right then and there, they’ll never know. Feeling crimson creeping onto their cheeks, Lovely laughs lightly and scratches their nose.

They had never been able to take praise of any kind without feeling like their entire body was on fire. They always laughed the compliment off or redirected it out of pure embarrassment. Recently, that is. Being in the spotlight so often since the age of 17 had indirectly forced them to be better at accepting the praise. Being ‘The Star of the Big Screen’ meant being continuously lauded all over the internet and often to their face during interviews or fan-meetings. They had spent so many hours in their bedroom, in cars, or in hotel rooms practicing their “poker face” and willing themself to never show a single person outside of their close circle how much a little praise flustered them.

The way Vincent spoke to them undid all of that. The tone of his voice, his gaze, his fucking confidence. If their body was on fire when it came to anyone else, he made them feel like they had just been thrown into a volcano.

And they could only thank whoever was listening that their days of tripping over their feet, choking, or sometimes straight up running away were over. The only thing that would be more humiliating than being complimented by the most beautiful person they’ve ever seen would be fumbling themself in front of him.

Shaking off their inner-monologue, they grin at him again, “Thank you. All the compliments today, are you sure this is still ‘getting into character’?”

“Of course, I have to really step into Lucas’ shoes.”

“Uh huh,” Lovely shakes their head with a laugh, “Sure.”

“Really! In fact, I’ll do the most Lucas thing ever and ask for your number!” He grins again, reaching into his back pocket for his phone.

They stare at him with barely concealed mirth, “The most Lucas thing ever? Really?”

“Nah,” He snorts, unlocking his phone, “It’s a Vincent thing for sure.”

Lovely doesn’t think their heart is supposed to skip that many beats but they chuckle and accept the phone offered to them, typing in their number quickly.

“Thank you kindly,” Vincent says, taking his phone back. Lovely hums and leans off the door, swinging it open and stepping in time with Vincent back to the entrance.

They both wave to Sam and Darlin’ still sitting there in the corner. Sam stops talking when he sees the two of them, waving back and the two stand up.

“Hey.” Darlin says, stretching their arms, “How’d it go?”

Lovely and Vincent exchange a short look.

“Good,” They both say at the same time, sharing a smile.

Sam raises an intrigued eyebrow but he smiles back, “That’s good. Do you know when you’ll get the call back?”

“Ah, David said within the next week,” Vincent says.

The two in front of them nod and Sam glances to the door.

“Is William picking you up, Vincent?”

Vincent nods and takes a look at his phone, “And he’s already here.” He looks up with a little smile that was mostly directed at Lovely, “Bye, guys. See you later.”

Lovely waves back at him, letting their gaze linger a little longer than normal until Darlin’ clears their throat.

And whatever confidence Lovely had vanished the second they were alone with Darlin’ and Sam.

────────

so uh, i meant to post this before 12am where i am buttttttt.... it's surely still january 1st somewhere 😄

[puffin-smoke]

Freelancer died young.

It didn't matter what of; a freak accident, an illness, something the doctors can't name. It didn't change anything.

Gavin thought he knew every part of his Freelancer. The way their body felt in his hands, the delicate way their hands cradled his. The way they leant into his touch and the way they'd chuckle when he'd do the same. The sound of their laugh, their sobs, their moans. He knew all of it, he would know it blind or deaf or in the grave.

But he didn't know. Not all of them. And he'll never get to know.

He'll never the know the way their skin would wrinkle like old paper. He'll never get to memorise the crow feet at the corners of their eyes, to count each line on their face like stars in the night sky. He won't listen as their voice grows hoarse, soft.

Freelancer will never grow old at his side.

All he can do is hold their hand in a desperate grip, until goes limp. Until he has to be dragged away from the hospital bed and the healer had to pry his hand from theirs.

And just like that he knows nothing. The world is alien and strange and foreign. But what can he do?

He goes back to a too quiet apartment he doesn't belong in. To a friend group held together by the loosest of threads, of which his had just been cut. To a world that doesn't need him in it.

Left with only the faintest memory of a hand on his shoulder and the ghost of a laugh in his ear.

[penumbra-mayhem]

Darlin’s Wolf Form

@krashkitty wrote this delightful little post, which in turn inspired this:

——————

Darlin’ doesn’t show Sam their wolf form for so long because they’re terrified of his reaction. They know how they look. Their wolf has always been frightening, even before they acquired the numerous scars carved across their body.

It’s partly their size; they’re just a bit smaller than David (and that guy is fucking huge).

It’s also their gait. They walk with a stagger, which makes their movements slightly disjointed and jerky.

And it’s their teeth, which are unusually sharp and too large for their mouth, causing their lower jaw to hang open in a permanent gaping grin.

Even the sounds they make are horrifying: every growl and snarl and howl is layered—haunting and gravely and resonant and raspy. Hearing them is fucking eerie.

——————

When the Inversion happens, Darlin’ is watching the games at home on the tv. As soon as they see the shades onscreen, they shift and race to the stadium. Fast as they are, though, the ward is already up by the time they get there. They claw and bite at that ward for hours before it finally comes down.

They don’t even think about how they look while they’re searching for Sam; they are just laser focused on his scent. Only after they see him, hurt but safe, do they shift back and tackle him into a hug.

After the Inversion, Darlin’ is still apprehensive about shifting for Sam. But now at least they can skip the formal presentation that most mates do the first time they shift. It takes away some of the pressure. They shift once when the two of them are attacked by Quinn’s cronies, but that’s about it.

——————

Until one day, Darlin’ asks Sam if he is scared of their wolf form. Sam bursts out laughing. Nothing—he assures Darlin’—nothing about them is scary to him. Impressive? Yes. Awe inspiring? For sure? But scary? Never.

Later that night, he finds a very large wolf sprawled in front of his fireplace.

Sam learns every spot on Darlin’s body that they like to be pet. He boops their scarred snout and gives their fur sweet kisses. Darlin’ gives tentative kisses (licks) back, until they realize they make Sam laugh. Then they barrage him with kisses (giant, slobbery licks), until Sam is on the floor in stitches.

——————

One time, Sam calls Darlin’ ‘pup’. He doesn’t mean to; it accidentally slips out. Cause that’s how he sees them, just a big adorable puppy. He splutters out an apology, mistaking Darlin’s scarlet face as a sign of embarrassment. Darlin’ then has to admit (quite meekly) that they actually really like the pet name, much to Sam’s relief and delight.

It’s pretty amusing from an outside perspective to see Sam cooing at this enormous, nightmarish wolf and calling them his puppy, and to see said wolf furiously wag their tail in response.

[literallyangelshaw]

This took me almost a month and I actually fucking hate it but for those who wanted the Treasure turning fic, it's your lucky day!!

Tag List: @darlin-collins @brainrotcharacters @aimedis @therealbr1gh7ey3s @spuffyfit and I think that's all

Warnings: Physical Violence, Car Accident, Unconsensual Turning, Mentions of previous arguments, suicidal implications, depictions of dissociation, probably some mischaracterization, and I will admit my writing here feels a little lazy so I apologise, also I didn't proof read because I'm tired.

Happy New Years/New Years Eve!! Depending on Timezone

"I'm not the only coward in this room"

Those words burned into their tender heart as they reminisce just moments before now. Their mind flooding with every blink of their eyes, their fists clenching as they glared at the laundry pile Porter had earlier ridiculed. They glared for what felt like hours until they felt a moisture slide down their cheeks. They couldn't possibly be crying. Their ears rang as the tears fell, and their body moved on it's own. Shoving through the door and wandering aimlessly and thoughtlessly.

*What am I doing?* Their thoughts finally coherent, the dissociation finally worn off. The feelings finally broken through their barricade. They continue to wander, to make any desperate attempt at escaping their thoughts. Their *feelings*.

Hours had passed, though it felt like weeks to them. Aimlessly trudging through damp, dark forest terrains, recklessly thudding into trees, bruising their arms and sides.

Their clothing now dirtied, their eyes sunken and red from the endless streams of tears, their nose stuffed with the agony of the earlier argument, their legs weak from the abuse they had given themselves to escape the abuse of their mind.

"If you think for one second that what we have here isn’t both of us running away, then you need to turn that appraising gaze inward for a bit."

There they were again. Those words burning and bruising their being as they question, everything.

Were they just an escape to him?

Did he ever truly care for anything *but* his escape?

Why them?

Their vision blurred as the tears stung their cheeks again, now stumbling out of the forst and onto a sidewalk.

"Look at that person over there, they look a mess!" A drunken voice cackled from across the street, followed by a group of friends laughing. Their gaze fixed onto the ground as their agony and despair turned to anger and a rage that would soon be unbridled.

Before common sense could stop them, they lunged off of the sidewalk and into the traffic, avoiding doom narrowly as they approached the group.

Seconds later, the voice's face was full of Treasure's fist. They pounded and pounded, wailing as all the emotion they carried finally poured itself out.

The moments blurred together, their arms were taken by another member of the group, one that unfortunately, looked a lot like Porter. The hair, the build, they screamed Porter.

"LET ME GO" They scolded in protest, flailing their limbs before the leader finally threw their punch. The Porter-lookalike, let them go just before the hit was landed. The impact threw their limp, weak body into oncoming traffic a car hitting them mid-fall.

Blood. It was all they could feel, all they could hear, all they could see. Barely conscious, in the middle of the street Treasure attempts to sit up, failing miserably.

Just as miserably as they failed at helping the one they loved.

Their body numbed as their thoughts continued to belittle them before unconsciousness finally overtook them. Their blood flooding the street as the driver leapt out of the car with urgency, Lovely. They rushed to Treasure's side, panic overflowing their senses.

Treasure would never be able to come back from this. Their bones snapped like twigs scattered across a park, bleeding out to what could've been death.

Lovely frantically rested their fingers on Treasure's neck, checking their pulse. Listening for their breathing. It was shallow, quiet, tortured and agonized.

***They aren't going to survive this.***

Lovely's head rushed as what little composure they could've kept cracked under the pressure. The adrenaline taking the reigns on their body, they bit their wrist before feeding their blood to the pitiful, withered, unconscious Treasure. Picking up Treasure's wrist and beginning to sip.

Blood for blood.

A new 'life' over a death that Treasure yearned for.

A death Lovely had almost granted them.

*Timeskip*

Ears ringing, heart pounding, body numbing like a corpse. Hushed voices came from behind the door as Treasure's exhaustingly heavy eyelids lifted themselves to reveal their unfamiliar surroundings. Their mind became frantic while their body was all too exhausted and broken to do anything but look around with anxious eyes. Taking in the exquisitely decorated room around them, it ever so slightly resembled the room Porter took them to, the night of their first dalliance.

Where am I?

Is this some sort of afterlife?

*Am I finally free?*

Questions arose within their mind as the doorknob turned, the long creak of the door opening ringing in Treasure's ears as Lovely entered. Their hands trembling with a guilt only a Maker would know.

"Are you alright?" Lovely chirped out, still shaken up themselves. They approached Treasure's bedside, resting their gaze on the pathetic creature.

"Wh..Who are you?" They sighed out, mind still rushing with questions their body wasn't ready to articulate.

"Lovely, Lovely Solaire. I'm so sorry I..." They trailed off, guilt dripping from their voice, their silvery crimson eyes avoiding Treasure's as they clasped their hands in a purely pathetic attempt of self soothing. "You.. were in an accident, and you weren't going to make it"

"Weren't?" Treasure's hoarse cracked voice interjected, "I'm not.." realization began set in. Making itself comfortable and torturing Treasure's mind almost immediately.

Death hadn't claimed them.

*Solaire*, this person was a member of Porter's house.

*Why can't I ever escape him?*

Their breath hitched as their mind began to rush again

*An accident?*

Their exhales became shakier as their lips began to tremble as they looked over at Lovely. Taking note of their eyes and paled skin, before looking down at their own hands.

Paled, dry, *dead*.

"What have you done?"

Lovely exhaled, trembling "I'm so sorry, I..I panicked and I lost control, it was the only thing I could think to do, and I know I shouldn't have, and I am eternally in apologetic debt to you, I'm so sorry" They sputtered, and stumbled over their words, sincerity dripping from their apologies as Treasure blankly stared down at their hands. Their senses blurring as their breaths became quicker, the thoughts became louder.

***This had to be a nightmare, right? They were going to wake up any second, in Porter's arms. Right?***

"You're lying. You have to be." Treasure muttered, their mind refusing to accept their new pathetically purposeless, eternal, reality.

"I'm so sorry...I'm telling the truth, this is all real and I'm so incredibly sorry"

The lump in Treasure's throat grew denser as realization had completed its task in making Treasure's mind its playground.

A strong tensioned silence filled the room, as Treasure began hearing what was once unhearable.

"..What does this mean for me?" A strange, unnatural, chilling calm had settled over them, still staring at their hands.

"I don't..I don't know. There's this house-"

"The Solaire house"

"Yes, the, Solaire house..they aren't, *ideal* but you'll need stability after something like this"

"Yeah. I get it."

Timeskip!!

Days passed like hours, the turning transition was rough, but Porter's absence was rougher. They'd never admit it after what he'd said but, they missed him more than any part of their humanity.

"Hey..you okay?"

Lovely's voice snapped Treasure out of their spiral, dragging back to their absolute shitshow of a reality. No matter how helpful their maker tried to be.

"You got everything?"

Treasure nodded, zipping up their last bag, full of their laundry.

"Whatever your equivalent conundrum would be, like..I don't know..should you actually do your laundry tonight or just push the pile farther over on the bed?"

***"Again?"***

Treasure hugged their arms into their chest, sitting on the floor of their old home looking around at its emptiness.

"Lovely"

"Yes?"

"Will I matter here?"

"What do you mean?"

"I've spent my whole life mattering the least, being told that, my problems are mere and trivial. Will that change here?"

"I can't promise that you'll be treated the way you should be, not by everyone in the house."

"So no."

"You didn't let me finish"

"And you didn't let me die."

"I..Treasure I'm sorry I-"

"Forget it. Please. Let's just get this over with."

Treasure's pained snarky response punctuated the conversation as they stood, picking up their bags and carrying them outside. The moon gleaming down on their paled skin as they released the bags from their hands.

"What now?"

"William has sent assistance to help you take your stuff to your new-"

With a woosh Lovely was cut off by a fellow vampire arriving to the scene in a car. Without another word they loaded the car and off they went.

The short minutes dragged on in Treasure's mind as they made their way, before they knew it, they had arrived.

Stepping out of the car, they gazed upon what looked like a palace out of a fantasy book.

"Cmon, I've gotta introduce you to William..ugh."

Treasure arched their brow silently following behind Lovely, striding into the castle, a light clicking of their heels upon the velvety floor as they made their way atop the staircase. Lovely knocked, almost immediately warranting William's silky voice in response.

"Come in"

Lovely inhaled shakily, pressing the door open and stepping inside, Treasure trailing behind.

A tensioned silence flooded the room after the door shut.

"Treasure..?"

Porter stood, once facing William now looking at his jewel. Eyes widening at their altered appearance he studied them, "Treasure what happened-"

"Why so concerned Porter? Oh..i see, do I finally have more than laundry to worry about now? Am I extraordinary enough to care about you now?"

William cleared his throat, the room filled with an awkwardness only a poet has the words to describe.

"Lovely, I believe this..conversation is best had another day." He says with a rare gentleness, glancing between Porter and Treasure

"Right." Lovely nods, signaling Treasure to turn and walk back out. As Treasure lifted their leg to walk out, a swift hand snatched their wrist. Porter.

"Treasure, please I'm sorry-"

Treasure yanked their hand from him, turning on their heel as the door shut behind them, now in the hallway.

"You're not fucking sorry"

"Treasure please believe me there is nothing I regret more than the way I left you that night"

"Good."

"What..?"

"You heard me. You've got super hearing don't you? Fucking use it. You said you wanted us to get to know each other. You promised a vulnerability that you then cut me down and hurt me for wanting. I guess you were right, Porter...

I don't and never will understand you."

[aggro-my-beloved]

one of these blogs following these tags is Erik in disguise. he’s watching us lose our minds and laughing maniacally. i just know it

who is it? fess up

[bazpire]

Thinking about cuddling with the shifted wolf bois rn.

Like with Asher: You're half asleep. It's been a really long day. You've worked so hard, and you need some rest. Slowly, you feel the bed deepening, and you know your lover is there. You don't open your eyes, but you smile and lift your arm, waiting for him. However, you don't feel the warmth of skin or the fabric of his t-shirt. Instead, soft fur tickles the underside of your arm, and you laugh softly, half-opening your eyes to find a wolf staring back at you, the head tilted, tongue out, tail softly swaying from side to side. You whisper groggily, "Ash?". All you can get as a response is your lover licking your cheek, making you giggle once again. You pull him closer to you, leaning your head against his soft, furred body and feeling his paws on your shoulders and hips. You just smile and fall asleep with him like that.

[sandypuppet]

It amazes me that people envision all redacted characters as white. You're gonna look me dead in the eyes and tell me milo ISNT the most sexiest Philippino man to ever exist, and that asher doesn't have vitiligo? I know it's all up for interpretation, these are headcanons, and whatever, but like... Seriously? You don't think that even ONE of those fine specimens is poc??