#thirdwoe

[shedaevil]

@thirdwoe​    𝓶𝓮𝓮𝓽𝓼    𝓽𝓱𝓮    𝓼𝓱𝓮-𝓭𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓵    !

i𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝓫𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓵𝓸𝓬𝓴𝓼 𝓫𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓸𝔀 𝓪𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭 𝓱𝓮𝓻   with   each   confident   step   she   takes   ,   her   strides   followed   by   the   resounding   𝑪𝑳𝑰𝑪𝑲 , 𝑪𝑳𝑰𝑪𝑲 , 𝑪𝑳𝑰𝑪𝑲   of   red-bottomed   stilettos   against   asphalt                         and   though   aera   is   nothing   short   of   BEAUTY   personified   as   she   holds   her   head   high   ,   there’s   no   doubt   that   something   dangerous   lurks   in   obsidian   depths.   the   air   still   tastes   like   H   I   M                        the   beautiful   little   frenchboy   ,   still   steeped   in   the   church’s   treachery   &   deception.   oh   ,   how   young   he   had   been   ,   so   pliant   &   desperate   to   taste   the   unknown.   his   mouth   had   tasted   sweet   ,   but   his   BLOOD   had   been   nothing   short   of   ambrosia.   𝙶𝚁𝙴𝙴𝙳𝚈 𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚃𝙻𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶                        aera   knows   all   too   well   that   her   thirst   for   indulgence   has   always   been   her   achilles   heel   ,   but   that   had   done   little   to   stop   her   from   wrapping   taloned   digits   around   thick   biceps   &   sink   her   fangs   in   until   she   became   drunk   off   the   power.   unfortunately   ,   the   little   churchboy   had   been   just   as   quickly   dumped   on   the   curb   as   she   had   arrived                        and   though   the   sensation   isn’t   a   new   one   by   any   means   ,   the   fact   that   fate   had   landed   her   squarely   back   into   his   lap   an   entire   century   later   had   snagged   her   ever-shifting   attention.

it   had   only   taken   a   giggle   &   a   whisper   to   learn   how   the   death   dealers   in   the   city   moved                       and   with   her   newfound   knowledge   as   her   latest   weapon   ,   the   she-devil   moves   ;   sinclair   portier   (   oh   ,   she   hadn’t   even   remembered   the   poor   thing’s   name   !   )   had   ducked   his   way   into   brooklyn   to   traverse   the   lycan   pack’s   territory   all   on   his   lonesome                       and   aera   couldn’t   have   that   !   there’s   a   bounce   in   her   step   as   she   exhales   a   huff   past   scarlet-painted   lips.   ❛   oh   ,   my   beautiful   boy   !   ❜   her   croon   is   deceptively   LILTING   ,   laced   with   breathless   sigh   as   she   closes   the   distance   between   them   ,   chest   pressing   to   his   back   &   thin   arms   wrapping   around   his   throat.   she   senses   his   growl   before   it   rips   from   his   chest   ,   but   it   does   little   to   hamper   her   as   she   rubs   their   cheeks   together   ,   like   that   of   a   spoiled   cat   looking   to   scent-mark   its   territory.   ❛   hasn’t   anyone   told   you   it’s   unsafe   to   be   out   on   your   own                       oh   !   what   would   i   do   if   you   were   hurt   ?   no   fear   ,   i   am   here   now   !   ❜   mockingly   saccharine   ,   deceptively   sweet                       a   viper   with   venomous   fangs   ,   coiled   to   strike.

[becomesdeath]

𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 : 𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙲𝙻𝙰𝙸𝚁.

𝐎𝐇 , 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒  allowed   to   love   ?   the   sensations   of   tangled   digits   twining   together   with   sudden   intent   ,   the   tight   ferocity   behind   the   innocent   gesture   ,   &   the   certainty   with   which   sinclair   guides   him   into   the   flat   they   have   since   adopted   as   theirs   is   enough   to   render   the   beast   lurking   within   zaiden’s   ribcage   silent.   drawing   free   from   the   confines   of   the   coven’s   manor   had   brought   with   it   a   certain   level   of   reluctance                         for   it   echoed   in   his   expression   ,   within   the   set   of   his   jaw   &   the   quiet   hum   of   unenthused   acceptance   that   accompanies   each   minor   quirk   of   finely-done   brows                       but   in   spite   of   himself   &   the   whims   of   the   king   he   so   dutifully   served   ,   zaiden   allows   sinclair   to   pull   him   close   until   he’s   falling   ,   falling   ,   falling   into   him   wholly   &   completely.

though   the   reality   of   their   evening   had   slowly   begun   to   settle   in   when   they   had   first   risen   with   the   first   inklings   of   dusk   ,   zaiden   had   yet   to   shake   the   promise   of   a   GIFT   that   sinclair   had   so   graciously   mentioned   to   him   the   evening   before.   while   their   relationship   had   evolved   from   the   organic   𝙋𝙐𝙎𝙃 & 𝙋𝙐𝙇𝙇  of   their   mutual   fascination   ,   the   dark-haired   death   dealer   could   hardly   say   that   the   promise   of   a   physical   token   to   express   gratitude   didn’t   stir   his   intrigue   ;   in   fact   ,   head   cocks   curiously   to   the   side   even   before   the   key   finds   its   home   within   the   lock   ,   studying   clair   through   calculating   hues   until   a   low   hum   rumbles   deep   within   his   chest.   lips   part   &   brows   furrow   ,   pensive   expression   slipping   into   minor   confusion   until   finally   ,   𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘   ,   clair   slips   free   what   exactly   the   gift   in   question   is.

❛   you’re   lying.   ❜   the   low   ,   incredulous   murmur   is   spoken   with   a   spike   of   accusation   ,   sapphires   glinting   with   muted   shock   ;   beasts   that   they   were   ,   chased   by   the   hunger   for   blood   &   carnage   ,   rarely   indulged   in   something   as   inane   as   pets   --   but   OH   ,   how   he   melts   as   soon   as   they   step   into   their   apartment   to   let   his   gaze   rest   upon   the   small   tuft   of   fur   as   black   as   night.   grip   falls   slack   automatically   &   as   a   soft   ❛   𝑶𝑯   ,   ❜   falls   from   pierced   lips   ,   the   vampire   is   crouched   with   poise   at   the   small   creature’s   side.   the   kitten   mewls   ,   jarred   at   first   by   the   newfound   presence   ,   but   the   delicacy   with   which   tattooed   digits   reach   causes   the   feline   to   squirm   ;   small   paws   reach   to   bat   at   his   touch   ,   causing   zaiden   to   exhale   a   breath   of   a   chuckle.   

❛   she’s   beautiful.   ❜   head   cants   &   his   gaze   lifts   to   study   clair   with   intent   ,   watching   as   the   other   vampire   leans   close   by.   ❛   what’s   her   name   ?   ❜ / @thirdwoe​ 

[oldmcncy]

@thirdwoe​ asked for a RANDOM starter 🤠

"Well, full offense but you look like shit.” Bluntness was one of Alyx’s gifts. “What is it? Dry spell? Someone pissed on your cheerios? Or do you just have a resting miserable bastard face.”

[becomesdeath]

𝙰𝙲𝙲𝙴𝙿𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶.

@thirdwoe​ said : 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴

𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐌𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅𝐅   into   long   ,   slender   digits   --   and   though   steady   hands   rarely   quiver   or   tremble   in   the   face   of   terror   ,   knuckles   remain   scarred   by   centuries’   worth   of   carnage   ,   destruction   ,   &   bloodshed   ;   newfound   ink   needled   into   pale   flesh   has   since   covered   up   the   numerous   calluses   that   have   surfaced   against   capable   hands.   tattoos   range   from   simple   designs   to   intricate   artistry   wrapped   around   his   digits   ,   patchwork   pieces   to   symbolic   imagery   ---   the   dark   ink   stands   out   against   ivory   skin   ,   obscuring   the   scar   tissue   that   has   since   collected.   knuckles   are   rounded   &   prominent   ,   a   product   of   beating   his   fists   until   they   run   crimson   with   blood   or   until   they   break   &   splinter   under   pressure.   while   fingers   are   long   &   slender   ,   they   are   decidedly   masculine   in   nature   ,   down   to   the   way   his   fingernails   are   clean   ,   rounded   ,   &   perfectly   trimmed   to   prevent   a   sudden   injury   when   handling   his   weaponry.   veins   stand   out   ,   visible   &   prominent   to   even   the   untrained   ,   naked   eye   --   but   in   spite   of   the   danger   ,   the   chaotic   beauty   ,   that   lingers   within   hands   so   deeply   stained   by   the   blood   of   thousands   ,   they   often   remain   tucked   neatly   into   a   pair   of   black   leather   gloves.

[becomesdeath]

𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐.

@thirdwoe​ said : ❛ 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 . 𝘪’𝘮 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘰𝘸 . ❜

❛   𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐔𝐓 𝐔𝐏   ?   ❜   the   mild   irritation   prickling   through   his   words   is   far   from   vitriol   ;   baritone   groan   is   laced   with   tired   annoyance   ,   addled   &   muddled   by   the   exhaustion   that   has   worked   its   way   through   his   brittle   bones.   their   bodies   are   twined   together   ,   long   legs   hooked   into   one   another   &   zaiden’s   face   pressed   NEATLY   into   the   curve   of   sinclair’s   throat.   he   inhales   ,   slow   &   steady   ,   until   the   other   vampire’s   scent   settles   over   him   ---   and   as   the   comfort   works   its   way   through   his   veins   ,   the   rage   that   often   roars   deep   within   the   death   dealer’s   chest   falls   silent.   ❛   why   would   i   want   to   kill   you   ?   after   everything   that   we   are   ,   we’ve   become   ...   ❜   a   soft   hum   follows   &   finally   ,   he   allows   himself   to   grow   quiet   as   lips   smudge   lazy   kisses   along   clair’s   collarbone.   ❛   𝙖 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙚   …   i   suppose   i   like   the   sound   of   that   ,   anyway.   ❜

[therelentless]

@thirdwoe​ asked: “Did you do that on purpose?”

“On purpose, what you say on purpose?... no, not really, I was only trying to get your attention.” A bit nervous, he looked at all the humans present in the house, before returning his attention to the other. “I know these humans might look delicious to you with their rosy cheeks and everything, but they’re our friends and you can’t just eat them, they’re off-limits, are we clear on that? -- Keep your fangs to yourself.”

[blooferarch]

*      ❛❛      @thirdwoe​      –      [   𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫  𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥   ]

𝙷𝙴𝚁  𝙻𝙰𝚄𝙶𝙷  𝙸𝚂  𝙱𝚄𝙱𝙱𝙻𝙴𝚂  ,   𝙴𝙿𝙷𝙴𝙼𝙴𝚁𝙰𝙻  𝙰𝙽𝙳  𝙴𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙽𝙰𝙻  𝙰𝚃  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝚂𝙰𝙼𝙴  𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴  .   lucy  runs  through  her  hallways  with  the  addled  uncertainty  of  a  girl  in  a  strange  house  ,   darting  and  twirling  and  gasping  pointlessly  for  air  as  she  runs  .   a  manic  sort  of  frenzy  blooms  in  her  air - light  laugh  ,   as  she  runs  out  of  rooms  to  move  through  .

❛❛      𝔦𝔱  𝔰𝔢𝔢𝔪𝔰  𝔶𝔬𝔲  𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔩𝔶  𝔯𝔢𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔱  𝔣𝔬𝔯  𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤  !!      ❜❜      lucy  exclaims  ,   her  vibrant  voice  tinged  with  a  playful  brand  of  fear  around  the  edges  .   in  truth  ,   if  she  thought  sinclair  the  sort  to  abandon  a  game  then  she  never  would  have  asked  him  to  chase  her  .

it  is  in  the  library  where  the  chase  ends  .   it  is  the  last  room  on  this  floor  ,   but  the  stairs  are  far  in  the  centre  where  lucy  has  run  from  .   she  turns  to  the  door  ,   grinning  at  her  friend  .   with  a  sing - song  shout  to  try  and  distract  him  ,   lucy  darts  to  the  side  and  tries  to  get  around  .

[amiabel]

*    ♥     :      ⎛  @thirdwoe​  ⎠    /     𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑟  𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙  !

𝚂𝙷𝙴  𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙺𝚂  𝙾𝙵  𝙰  𝙱𝙰𝙳  𝙵𝙰𝙸𝚁𝚈  𝙶𝙾𝙳𝙼𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁  𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙸𝙽𝙶  𝙰  𝙲𝚄𝚁𝚂𝙴  .   it’s  what  it  sounds  like  to  her  ,   after  all  ,   the  horror  of  someone  whispering  to  one  so  young  that  they  will  not  sleep  forever  .

it  is  a  choice  where  she  is  concerned  ,   for  who  could  blame  a  human  creature  who  fears  death  ?   but  it  wasn’t  so  in  sinclair’s  case  .

❝      𝑤𝑒  𝘩𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑛'𝑡  𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠  𝑜𝑓  𝑣𝑎𝑚𝑝𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑠  ,   𝑎𝑡  𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑡  𝑖  𝑤𝑎𝑠  𝑛𝑜𝑡  𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑑  𝑜𝑛  𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑚  .      ❞      she  admits  ,   appearing  at  a  loss  for  words  .      ❝      i  am  wholly  ignorant  ,   mister  portier  so  you  will  have  to  forgive  my  questioning  .      ❞