𝖉𝖊𝖊𝖕 𝖇𝖎𝖙𝖊!

𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖆 𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖑𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖋𝖚𝖈𝖐𝖊𝖗 𝖜𝖍𝖔 𝖍𝖆𝖘 𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖑𝖔𝖈𝖐 𝖒𝖊 𝖚𝖕 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖌𝖊𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖗 𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 𝖒𝖞 𝖓𝖊𝖈𝖐 𝖔𝖗 𝖋𝖎𝖓𝖉 𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙'𝖘 𝖇𝖎𝖌 𝖊𝖓𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍

[loudbarks]

LOUDBARKS ── a private, selective blog for musician frankie knox. follows back from ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀@skippingframes

⠀⠀𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖙 𖤐 𝖕𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖙 𖤐 𝖛𝖎𝖘𝖆𝖌𝖊 𖤐 𝖒𝖚𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 𖤐 𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖊𝖘 𖤐 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘

[commonmonsters]

The thinness of Frankie’s voice prompted Ardan’s arms to tangle around them tighter, as if to support those fraying edges in every desperate way he could. Tonight wasn’t supposed to go like this. This hurt wasn’t supposed to happen. Not when they finally had each other, another being who understood their pains and woes of living the way that they did. Another being who watched the world around them shift and change, but was seemingly always left out and had to fend for themselves. That loneliness and need to belong elsewhere should have been left at the door, because now they knew each other. But the universe, Ardan realized, didn’t work like that. There was always something that couldn’t be planned for. And that something played to the tune of the four sirens who decided this was a convenient time to reappear after all these centuries of abandoning Frankie. “I can understand, love,” he murmured into their forehead, lips kissing the skin there. “It should have never been them, especially if they loved you so much.”

At the siren’s command, the demon moved. He brought them inside the bathroom, turning the water to a warm but pleasant temperature before running the bath. Once it was filled enough, he placed Frankie inside, dipping her into the water with great care until her body floated briefly before settling onto the bottom of the tub. Ardan collected a loofah and some soap, immediately dropping to his knees so he could lean over the tub. He went straight to work, washing every wound left on his lover’s body. The sirens did not spare an inch of her skin, and as he scrubbed the dried blood, he felt his own anger flicker dully in his chest. A family reunion turned into a massacre; it wasn’t fair to Frankie. She should have been welcomed with open arms by women who searched as vigorously as they claimed they did. Instead… she received this. The demon’s jaw clenched at the thought and at their broken confession. “I won’t leave your side tonight or any night after this, a chuisle mo chroí.”

[loudbarks]

more than the blood, frankie hated the weakness. she hated that her arms felt too heavy to lift, that she had to rely on ardan to lower her into the water and keep her upright, that even breathing seemed to require more effort than it should. their sisters had hurt them, yes, but this helplessness made the humiliation settle deeper. she’d survived centuries alone, had dragged herself back from death more times than she cared to remember, and now she could barely sit in her own bathtub without trembling. when the loofah passed over the first wound, frankie winced sharply and gripped the edge of the tub. “that hurts,” they whispered, more ashamed of the admission than they should’ve been. the water around her clouded pink as the dried blood lifted from her skin, and the sight made everything feel horribly real. the tears came before the siren could stop them. they slipped down her face in quick, burning trails, joining the bathwater as she turned her head away from the damage across her body. “i hate this,” frankie said, voice breaking. “i hate feeling like this.” they wanted to be angry, wanted to summon some of the fury they’d carried into the water, but all that remained was grief and exhaustion. her fingers reached for ardan instead, catching weakly around his wrist as another sob pulled through her. “they were supposed to come back and love me,” they said. “not make me feel like i’m nothing without them.”

[alicentz]

dean + allie's hips

[winter-pear]

hope the pussy grips him in a way that freaks him the fuck out. hope he gets feverish when he gets a boner even

[almostbetter]

to: @loudbarks ma waife

The festival lights were still bleeding into the sky when he found them again. The water was dark. Not black, but a deep, shifting indigo that caught the last traces of sunset and held them captive. He approached slowly, letting his footsteps crunch on the sand. He was still in the clothes from his set. The same black shirt and dark jeans, unbuttoned at the top, sleeves rolled up. He could still feel the heat from the stage lights clinging to his skin, the ghost of the crowd's energy buzzing in his veins. He stopped a few feet away from them, close enough to be noticed, far enough to give them space.

"You look like you're thinking about something heavy," he said, his voice easy and unhurried. "Or someone."

[loudbarks]

frankie had been staring at the water long enough for the roar of the crowd to become a distant memory, her thoughts drifting beneath the dark surface toward saltwater, old songs, and the familiar ache of an ocean that’d always known her better than anyone else. even after headlining a festival, where thousands of voices had shouted their name and sung every word back to them, this was where they inevitably ended up: standing at the shoreline like the tide might offer an answer they’d forgotten how to ask for. stellan’s voice cut through the rhythm of the waves, drawing her back with a faint start, and she turned her head to fix him with those shifting watercolor eyes, iridescent beneath the fading festival lights. “you shouldn’t sneak up on people,” they told him, though the slight curve at the corner of their mouth betrayed any real irritation. her gaze swept briefly over his stage clothes before returning to his face, one brow lifting. “especially people thinking about heavy things. you might end up hearing an answer you’re not ready for.”

[commonmonsters]

Ardan’s eyes brightened in childish delight at Frankie’s claim. The cackle came soon after, reveling eagerly in the fact that he was, indeed, an asshole. That may be one of his best character flaws, if he said so himself. But it didn’t seem like Frankie shared in his joy. No, they were not having it. Between the eye roll and the forceful little shove on his face, he realized he may have baited his resident rager just a little too much. Normally, a threat of sex like that would have horrified the demon. That was Frankie’s trump card, and once played, it had Ardan sulking like a kicked dog. But between the amusement creeping across the siren’s lips and the way they licked his blood off their thumb (which, fucking hot), he might have a chance if he played his cards right.

And he knew exactly what he had to do before Frankie mapped it out for him. “That sounds like I got a chance to fuck ya then,” he replied jovially, offering a silly wink before straightening seriously at Frankie’s list of demands. Animatedly, he made sure to mentally note each statement with an exaggerated nod of his head. “Bag carriuh, lunch purchasuh, mug organizuh. I think I can handle that, kitten.” Each pat made his grin widen, so much so that he couldn’t stop the flash of his teeth as it happened. “I am well acquainted with cabinets, Frankie. Observe.” Sauntering to the kitchen counter, he opened the top cabinet and began to place the mugs back in their rightful place. As he did so, his eyes wandered back to the redhead, grin broad and ridiculous as if he wasn’t the single cause of Frankie’s aggravation this morning.

[loudbarks]

frankie narrowed her eyes at him, trying very hard not to let the ridiculous accent or that broad, pleased grin chip away at her irritation. it was deeply unfair that ardan could be this cute while actively earning their wrath. he looked like an overgrown menace congratulating himself for basic household competence, and some traitorous part of her wanted to laugh, kiss him, and forgive the entire thing before he had even finished moving the first mug. they refused. instead, she crossed her arms and leaned against the counter, watching him with a pointed glare as he returned each one to its rightful place. “you do not have a chance,” they corrected, even as the corner of their mouth twitched. “you have chores. there’s a difference.” her gaze followed the movement of his hands, making sure he put every mug exactly where it belonged, though she already knew he would. ardan loved getting under their skin, but he also loved taking care of them, and that made staying angry far more difficult than it had any right to be. still, principle mattered. frankie stepped closer once he finished, reaching up to hook two fingers into the front of his shirt and pull him down until they were nearly nose to nose. “and wipe that grin off your face,” they warned, entirely undermined by the reluctant fondness in their eyes. then she pressed a brief kiss to the corner of his mouth before releasing him with another glare. “that wasn’t forgiveness. that was encouragement to finish faster.”

[commonmonsters]

“Frankie,” Ardan started, cocking his brows as if her statement was the most baffling thing he’s ever heard. “As ya boyfriend, lover, man, whatever the hell ya wanna call me,” His smirk grew teeth, laughing at his own foolishness. “Knowin’ all about ya underwear is a part of my job description. I have to know these things, especially when ya put so much faith in my opinions.” He gestured vaguely at their bed and the sets of lingerie splayed on the mattress for their viewing pleasure. The demon anticipated Frankie to retreat back to her trunk to show him the royal blue set he mentioned, but instead, her fingers went to the waistband of her jeans. Ardan’s eyes widened briefly, only to be replaced with unbridled delight as they tugged it forward, revealing a beautiful splash of royal blue against their skin. He wolf-whistled lowly, licking his lips as his eyes remained fixed there.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, gaze trailing back up to Frankie’s. The preview was long gone, and instead, she stepped forward. Their bodies were flush against one another, and his hands were already clamped down on the siren’s hips. Their fingers were on his chest, tracing over his shirt idly as he hummed in satisfaction. The tease made him chuckle, thumbs pressing just above Frankie’s hips as he tugged her impossibly close. Leaning forward, he allowed his lips to hover over hers. “I figured ya needed some help with ya own things first. The gentlemanly thing to do is help ya love first, then yaself. Besides,” His voice trailed off the same way his mischievous hands did. Shamelessly, his palms cupped Frankie’s ass, giving it a firm squeeze. “What am I supposed to do when ya got a backside like this?”

[loudbarks]

it was hard for frankie not to laugh at the explanation, the sound bright and helpless despite how ridiculous he was being. only ardan could turn memorizing her lingerie into a sacred duty and somehow look pleased with himself for it. they should’ve expected nothing less; he approached loving them with the same shameless enthusiasm he brought to everything else, never embarrassed by how deeply he wanted them or how much attention he paid. that openness still caught her off guard at times. there was no calculation behind it, no effort to hide affection beneath indifference. he simply loved them loudly, foolishly, and without restraint. “you’re so lucky i love you,” she told him, shaking her head as the smile refused to leave her face. “because that may be the dumbest explanation you’ve given me yet, and there’s serious competition.” their eyes rolled the moment his hands slid lower, though they made no attempt to move away. instead, frankie lifted both hands to the sides of his neck and gave a gentle squeeze, thumbs resting beneath his jaw as she held him there. “what are you supposed to do?” they repeated, leaning closer until their lips nearly met his. “maybe finish unpacking like you promised. maybe keep your hands to yourself for longer than ten seconds.” her fingers tightened just enough to make the tease clear, amusement flashing through her gaze. “or maybe remember that the woman with the backside you’re so distracted by also has claws, fangs, and a very good grip.” they tilted his head slightly between their hands, smiling against the corner of his mouth. “though i suppose you’ve always liked learning things the difficult way.”

[pearlfoam]

he thinks you’re sooooo cute when you ride him and your legs start to shake and your breath comes out in quick puffs because you’re trying so hard to bounce on his cock and please him

[likecavities]

it's easy to slot back in like nothing changed. but everything had changed. shiloh changed. that ill fated trip to southie, that awful cloying knowledge in the center of her chest that she knows and frankie probably doesn't. but they're kinder about it than she expects. for clem. she never stopped loving them – it was never about that for her. but shiloh doesn't stay where she's not wanted, and she got it twisted up in her head somehow that she wasn't anymore. there's something painful in that, in knowing that everything fell apart over something that may not have even been true. they're saying right now that it wasn't. "i think – yeah." a nod, "i'm on an apology tour anyways." a laugh pulls through her, "kind of nice to have someone around that i'm not dreading talking to."

[loudbarks]

frankie laughed under her breath, though the sound carried more feeling than humor. “glad i made the safe list,” they said, giving shiloh a small sideways smile as they kept walking. she’d missed this more than she wanted to admit: the strange little jokes, how shiloh could make a room feel less exhausting just by standing beside her, even the pauses where neither of them quite knew what to say. for months, frankie had tried to convince themself they only missed the relationship, the routines, and the version of themself they’d been inside it. but this was shiloh — specific, familiar, and impossible to replace — and the realization settled into her with an ache that felt almost like relief. “you don’t have to rehearse some big apology for me, y’know,” they added, quieter now. “i’m just… really glad you’re here.”

[commonmonsters]

Ardan punched a laugh from his throat at the sound Frankie made. Oh, he would be absolutely insufferable this week, more so than he usually was. Remote location, scenic views, and unrestricted access to his girlfriend’s body—who needed more than that? He was already unpacking his carry-on as Frankie walked in. He packed modestly, bringing only the basics he would need for the week. He even stuffed a few things inside his baggage for Frankie, because he had a sinking feeling she would need every inch of space her trunks would provide for all her belongings. Ardan placed those down on the bed for them: some underwear, socks, and bras. He had a couple of other appliances of theirs tucked away, but there were more important things to unpack at the moment.

He heard the click of the trunk locks and the front of the trunk clunking down on the floor, clear as day. Ardan knew plenty of what was inside it, but he still found himself peeking anyway, Pavlov’d by the sound. At this point, his luggage was neglected, and his full attention went to every piece of lingerie he had laid out for him. He rose to his feet, strolling to the bed with his hands behind his back. He leaned forward, drinking in each set of fabric with the same intensity as a contest judge. Ardan hummed as Frankie presented each new set, his eyes immediately gravitating to all the deep colors. Black, burgundy, and emerald; each complemented Frankie’s body beautifully. The demon had an eye for fashion, it seemed. “It would be cruel,” he agreed, nodding so gravely he must have looked ridiculous. “And the royal blue balconette set?” He asked, the muscle memory working scarily well as he glanced down at Frankie. “Did it make the cut?”

[loudbarks]

frankie watched him abandon his own luggage without a second thought, and the sight drew a private warmth through her. ardan teased them relentlessly about the shopping, the trunks, and the sheer amount of clothing they somehow justified bringing everywhere, but he never once tried to make them smaller. he never asked her to spend less, wear less, want less, or dull any part of herself for his comfort. if anything, he encouraged every indulgence, offered opinions like they genuinely mattered, and then carried the evidence afterward without complaint. after centuries of men trying to claim ownership over her choices, or deciding what parts of her were acceptable, there was freedom in being loved by someone who seemed delighted by all of it. “you remember far too much about my underwear,” they said, rolling their eyes as though they hadn’t noticed how quickly he recalled the exact set. “that’s either very flattering or deeply concerning.” her hands moved to the waistband of her jeans, pushing it down just enough to reveal the royal-blue suspender beneath it, the delicate straps disappearing beneath the remaining fabric. “of course it made the cut,” frankie murmured, watching his reaction with open amusement. they let him look for another second before easing the denim back into place, deliberately denying him the rest. “if you’re good, i might let you see all of it later,” she told him, stepping closer until there was barely any space left between them. their fingertips trailed over the front of his shirt, tracing an idle path down his torso while their brow arched. “although, considering you slapped my ass, sprinted upstairs like your life depended on it, and left your own suitcase half-unpacked, i’m not convinced you know how to behave for more than thirty seconds.”

[commonmonsters]

Even if Frankie returned to him, they were in no state to just pick up from where they left off. There was an unnatural weakness to them that unnerved Ardan. Her lips moved weakly on his, and her body could barely support her unless he was holding her on. He felt their head on his shoulder, and a hand reflexively went up to stroke their hair before trailing that comforting touch all the way down their back. Frankie was so cold; he understood this was the touch of death. But it only made his already unstable feelings teeter further. He never wanted to see them die like that again. Ardan understood that it wasn’t permanent, but he just couldn’t. He refused to let Frankie feel that much pain again from those sirens or anyone else on this earth. They didn’t need to go through that again. “Aye,” The demon’s throat was raw from earlier as he spoke, and he swallowed reflexively. “Only for ya, Frankie.”

At their nod, Ardan was already moving to the bathroom. Frankie deserved to get cleaned up as soon as possible so she could rest as soon as possible. He’d offer her more of his blood if it meant she’d heal faster. Hell, he’d give Frankie anything of his to get back to their proper baseline. The demon almost missed the siren’s whisper, but his hyperfocus on them would have made that impossible. Ardan halted midstep, arms still devastatingly tight around her, as if he would lose her again if he let go. Taking into consideration everything that happened tonight, he understood Frankie’s request clearly. “Alright, love,” Ardan replied, nodding his head as he stood in the hallway. “I’ll hold ya for as long as ya need. Ya let me when ya’re ready for me to take care of ya.”

[loudbarks]

as ardan carried her, frankie’s eyes fell shut, every step sending another dull ache through the wounds her sisters had left behind. they’d died enough times to know there was no graceful way through it. every death hurt — the tearing, the fading, and the awful instant when her body finally surrendered — and returning only meant waking inside whatever pain had killed her. they hated all of it, but this death felt crueler than the others. menodora, sophia, athenais, and helene had once been the only people in the world who understood what she was, the only ones who had shared the curse and the hunger and the endless years beside her. now their claws had been the ones to rip her apart. that knowledge hurt worse than any bite still burning across their skin. “i always hate dying,” she admitted, her voice worn thin from crying. “but i think this one might be the worst.” they swallowed against the fresh knot in their throat, fingers tightening weakly in his shirt. “it wasn’t supposed to be them.” she remained curled against him for another moment, taking what comfort she could from the certainty of his arms before forcing herself to think about the blood drying across her skin. they could feel it pulling whenever they moved, could smell the salt and iron clinging to both of them, but they still couldn’t bear to look down and see the full extent of what their sisters had done. “just put me in the bathtub,” frankie murmured, her grip loosening only enough to let him move more easily. “you can clean my wounds once i’m in there.” the request felt childish, perhaps, but they’d already lost too much dignity tonight to care. she leaned further into him as they neared the bathroom, trusting him to guide her through the rest. “i don’t want to see any of it yet,” they confessed. “just wash the blood off me, love. and stay close, please. i don’t think i can handle feeling alone right now.”

[commonmonsters]

@loudbarks sent: warning for frankie & ardan. (actions speak louder than words non-verbal action prompts)

Ardan was a natural ragebaiter. He couldn’t help it; it paired well with his nature as an insufferable demon. From the way he spoke to his actions, he could drive just about anyone to the brink of insanity if you kept them in a room with him for more than five minutes. The reactions he elicited from mortals and immortals alike tasted just as delicious as human souls did, and who would he be to deny himself his sordid version of joy? So it made sense that Ardan would restart his antics with his fiancée, and he learned quickly just how full of rage she actually was.

He put all of Frankie’s mugs on the top shelf. Jiji watched as he woke up early that morning to enact his ridiculous little plan. The feline familiar chirped away, as if he were warning the demon just how bad an idea this all was. But Ardan pressed on anyway, showering the cat with pets until he hushed, hopped off the counter, and returned to his own devices. Once he had successfully migrated Frankie's mugs to the top cabinet, he slipped back into bed with them and pretended to wake when they did. The two of them descended the steps, chatting away about what the day had in store for them. Frankie mentioned shopping, and he knew immediately what that meant. A whole day of carrying bags, watching them try on outfit after outfit, and applauding each one, because Frankie looked stunning in everything—even a potato sack. Ardan watched silently, eyes bright as they fixed a pot of coffee for both of them. A tiny smile tugged at the edges of his lips as Frankie opened the cabinets, confusion evident on their face as their armada of mugs disappeared. They began to go through each cabinet and drawer until the only ones left were the ones Frankie couldn’t reach. She turned to him, glaring daggers at him, and finally, Ardan began to cackle. “Sorry, kitten,” he taunted, hopping off the stool and going to the top cabinet, swinging the doors open to reveal Frankie’s mugs. “I couldn’t resist teasing ya—”

As he turned back around to face her, he felt the cool steel of a kitchen knife at the side of his neck. His jaw slackened, and his eyes went wide. Slowly, Ardan’s gaze fell onto Frankie’s. Her gaze was half-lidded, absolutely smug as a pretty smile graced their lips. He did not let the sweetness deceive him; this was a threat through and through. Never touch my shit again. The demon blinked, half in shock, and half in disbelief because he didn’t think he’d be turned on as much as he was right now. Slowly, his lips pulled into a grin, baring teeth. The flesh of his neck leaned into the serration of the knife, slowly putting more pressure until the steel bit into his skin. Blood dripped cleanly from the wound, and Ardan groaned in pleasure, his hand clasped over Frankie’s that held the knife. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead into theirs before kissing her fervently. His teeth gnawed on her lower lip, tongue flickering against the roof of her mouth, and his free hand gripped her hip so tightly to keep her pressed against him. Once they parted, the demon stared at her with wild, dilated pupils. “At this rate, love,” he murmured. “We might not be makin’ it out of the house today.”

[loudbarks]

frankie had known the moment she found the first empty cabinet that ardan was behind it. no one else in the house possessed the particular combination of height, audacity, and complete disregard for their patience required to relocate every single mug beyond their reach. by the time she found him grinning beside the open cabinet, the knife was already in her hand, its serrated edge fitted neatly against his neck. “you’re such an asshole,” they muttered, rolling their eyes when he leaned into the blade instead of displaying even an ounce of self-preservation. the first thin line of blood made her mouth threaten to curve, her gaze lingering on the dark trail as it slipped down his skin, but she refused to give him the satisfaction. of course he’d managed to turn his own impending murder into foreplay. he was insufferable, and they loved him enough that it was becoming a serious character flaw. she allowed him to pull her closer and kiss her, meeting the fervor of it for several seconds before dragging the knife away from his neck and planting her palm against his face to push him back. “you’re insane if you think i’m fucking you today,” frankie told him, though the amusement they had been fighting finally broke through in the slight lift of their lips. her thumb swept through the blood at his neck, gathering it before she brought it to her tongue, eyes fixed pointedly on his as she tasted him. “you’re carrying my bags, you’re buying me lunch, and you’re putting every one of my mugs back where it belongs.” they gave his cheek two condescending little pats, then slipped from his hold to retrieve one of them. “maybe tomorrow, if you learn how cabinets work.”

[mommydgaf]

sex on the beach? ew

sex deep in the woods where no one can hear you scream? yes please

[commonmonsters]

Ardan drank Frankie’s eager giggles up, lips curving against her lips as they kissed. They were absolutely precious like this, and to be trusted enough to stand in this house with Frankie was enough to keep him warm all week. He felt his girlfriend’s fingers tighten in his hair, grazing at the nape of his neck, and he exhaled in satisfaction. Their lips were back on his, and Ardan hummed in pleasure at the reciprocated hunger dripping from Frankie’s lips. Her body pressed into his, and his groin was set ablaze. His fingers dug possessively into their hips, and a small growl exhaled from his throat as they kissed. Before he could suggest the first room for them to claim, Frankie pulled away from their kiss. Ardan chuckled, tongue flickering across his lower lip as he stared at her with blown-out pupils.

“You’ve told me before,” the demon replied, grin smug as he kept Frankie pressed against his chest. The siren’s rough grip in his hair grounded him, and he practically shivered in his delight. “I’m a demon, not a monster, Frankie. Ya got plenty of nice stuff in there; ya’re gonna have to give me a whole tour after.” He winked, only for him to growl at the well-placed bite the siren bestowed on him. Oh, this was torture; Ardan needed her now. But the comment about unpacking caused his gaze to snap immediately onto Frankie before drifting to the second floor. “Fine. Give me ten minutes to unpack, and then I’ll show ya just how ambitious I really am.” The demon grinned widely, pressing an exaggerated kiss onto Frankie’s lips. Hurrying past them, he made sure to give her ass a playful slap before hustling up the stairs to complete the task at hand.

[loudbarks]

frankie let out an indignant little sound at the slap, watching him hurry upstairs with all the urgency of someone given a deadline he fully intended to beat. her eyes rolled despite the grin she couldn’t suppress, and she followed at a far less frantic pace, amusement warming her as she climbed. ardan’s excitement should’ve been ridiculous, yet there was an intimacy beneath it that always caught them off guard. he wasn’t only eager to have her; he’d chosen pieces for her, imagined how they would look against her skin, and packed them with this trip in mind. being desired so openly still had a way of reaching places in them that centuries of attention never had. by the time she stepped into the bedroom, he was already making quick work of his things. frankie moved toward one of their trunks and opened it, lifting out neatly folded lingerie sets — black lace, deep burgundy and cream-colored silk, dark emerald mesh, each one selected under ardan’s enthusiastic supervision. “i suppose i should unpack the important things first,” she mused, glancing over at him as she draped one set across the bed. their fingers lingered over the burgundy piece before they held it up against themself, brow arching with playful consideration. “you did pick these out, after all. it would be cruel not to let you see whether your judgment was any good.”

[commonmonsters]

What else was there left to do? Ardan didn’t know. His body slumped forward, his knees slamming into the hardwood rough enough he nearly expected Jiji to come sprinting in and chirping over the offensive disturbance. But he never came, almost as if he also knew the tragedy the demon had dragged into their home. Ardan's exertion was finally starting to catch up to him. Between the relentless flying, hyper vigilance, and the blood streaming from his veins, he allowed himself to sit in his exhaustion. Death was something he controlled and something he decided. To have that choice ripped out of his hands and have death touch the one being in this world he loved was such a cruel, ironic fate.

But then Frankie returned to him. A rough, tachy gasp yanked from her throat as her fingers gripped deftly around his wrist. Ardan flinched in surprise first, before a tidal wave of relief crashed over him. Thank Lucifer and all His beings of the nine hells, Frankie has risen. His hands moved slowly to cup their face, caresses gentle as if they were made of glass. “A chuisle mo chroí,” Ardan breathed, pressing his lips on theirs with the same ferocity he flew them home with. His fingers cupped Frankie’s cheeks, claws scratching at the delicate skin. “Do not apologize to me,” he responded, fitting his arms around their body so he could bring them up into his chest. A hand cradled the back of their skull while the other fitted around their waist tightly. Ardan would hold her like this for however long she needed. He was fixed to her forever, a part of Frankie’s life for all of the eternity they were afforded. “I will wait for you always, as long as it takes.”

Wordlessly, he rose from the floor. As Ardan held them, he allowed himself to revert to his human form. He shrank, and Frankie’s vantage point lowered until she was two feet closer to the ground. But the comfort did not cease. The demon held onto her viciously, with genuine fear that maybe she would slip back into whatever place she was in before coming back to him. Ardan’s heart still ached, still hammering in his ribcage over what he had witnessed. Frankie died. She came back, but she died in his arms, and he was helpless to stop it. The memories seared him in a way he never thought heat could affect him. It angered him. “Let’s get ya cleaned up, love.” His voice was small, still shaken from the previous events. “Then we can clean up the wounds.”

[loudbarks]

frankie barely had the strength to return the kiss, but she tried, her lips moving weakly against his before she let herself sink fully into his hold. every shift of his arms stirred another pulse of pain through their body, the wounds left by their sisters still burning beneath their skin despite death having begun the work of repairing them. she rested her head against his shoulder once he changed forms, eyes drifting shut as exhaustion dragged at her again. his promise lingered in their mind, warming the part of them that still felt cold from wherever death had taken them. ardan had waited beside her body, bled for her, begged her to return, and now held her as though loosening his grip might invite death back into the room. “you’re sweet,” they murmured, voice rough and tired, the faintest trace of affection softening their expression. “far too sweet for a demon.” her fingers shifted against his shirt, tracing the fabric with what little strength she had. “you know that, don’t you?” when he mentioned cleaning their wounds, frankie managed a small nod, though even that slight movement sent an ache through their neck and shoulders. she knew he was right, that the blood needed washing away and the deeper cuts needed tending, but she couldn’t make herself think beyond the security of his arms. the image of their sisters vanishing beneath the water remained painfully vivid, followed too closely by the memory of waking to ardan’s devastated face. “don’t put me down yet,” she whispered, fingers curling more firmly into his shirt as if to reinforce the request. “just carry me for a little longer.” a tired, fragile smile touched their mouth as they pressed closer to him, careful of the injuries scattered across their body. “you can clean me up in a minute. right now, i just need to feel you holding me.”

[loudbarks]

frankie deserves the pretty woman plot of her dreams

[commonmonsters]

Everything was a blur. He couldn’t feel Frankie holding onto him anymore. Their breathing was tachy, and the stickiness of his blood built up against his arm. Ardan thought he heard them reply, but he was so lost in his own panic that he wasn’t certain in himself. Frankie was immortal, just like he was. He couldn’t die. How come it was starting to feel like they were going to die right in his arms? Once he was able to enter Frankie’s building, he finally regained enough sanity that his lover’s voice was able to reach him. He heard his name and then heard Frankie state that they loved him. Immediately, the body of the one he loved was limp and lifeless in his tight grip.

No… no, no, no. This wasn’t supposed to happen. No, they were supposed to hunt together tonight. They were supposed to feed, get stronger with one another, and enjoy the eternity that they had been cursed with. They weren’t supposed to meet those vile sirens, and Frankie wasn’t supposed to fight them all, and Ardan wasn’t supposed to feel so fucking useless with his dead fiancée in his arms. Dead? His vision tunneled, muscles spasming as he slowly looked down at the woman who was pressed into his chest. She was no longer breathing, nor could he smell the sweet pump of blood through their veins. They were dead.

A strangled cry rattled from his throat, animalistic and angry. Frankie was lying on the floor in front of him, and the demon didn’t know what to do. His kind didn’t give life; they stole it from every living creature they wanted to. What could he do? His claws dug more wounds in his arm, fresh blood dribbling down the muscle. He constricted it above her half-parted lips, thinking that maybe, just maybe, this could do something. “Frankie,” Ardan's voice cracked around her name, watching as his blood continued to drip against their slack lips. “Fuck, Frankie, you have to come back to me,” he continued, a sob daring to rip from his chest. They couldn’t leave him like this. No, not after making him understand truly what it meant to love another being more than he ever loved himself.

[loudbarks]

time passed without meaning for frankie. somewhere beyond the stillness, her body fought its way back piece by piece, repairing wounds that resisted every ancient instinct meant to preserve her. ardan’s blood gathered against their lips while they remained motionless beneath him, caught in a darkness that kept loosening and closing around them. there were fragments of awareness — his broken voice, the heat of his hands, the sound of him pleading with her — but she couldn’t answer. each time they tried to reach for him, consciousness slipped away again, leaving them with the memory of their sisters’ faces and the pain of what they had asked the redhead to choose. eventually, a rough breath tore into her lungs. frankie coughed weakly, fingers shifting before they curled around ardan’s wrist. when their eyes finally opened, his face hovered above them, stricken enough to make guilt cut through the exhaustion. she managed a tired smile despite the ache radiating through her body. “i hate dying,” they rasped, her thumb dragging faintly over his skin. “i’m sorry it took so long.” their gaze stayed fixed on him as their grip tightened with what little strength had returned. “i came back,” she whispered. “i’ll always come back to you.”