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fandom: vampire smp
rating: mature (due to blood and kissing <3)
focus: avid x scott
warnings: blood (minor but still there)
words: 5k (its LONG yall)
ao3 link!!
in the shadows of a forgotten town, avid tries to confront scott, desperate for truth â but beneath the skeletal mask lies a secret burning crimson. a confession made not with words, but with a kiss that tastes of blood and fire. in that moment, fear and desire collide, blurring the line between hunter and hunted, leaving only the fragile promise of something dangerously beautiful.
read under cut :D
Cassandra: The prophet who saw everything, yet changed nothing. She spoke in flames and ruin, her words dismissed until the world proved her right.
Oakhurst was a strange town.
It was suffocating, the air too thin, too claustrophobic. Trees rose like bones, ribs of the ever breathing forest. The ground seemed to break every time someone stepped on it a little too hard. Plants spidered from the rotten soil, bright blooms of poppies and alliums dotting the monochrome floor.
Avid sometimes could hear voices echoing from the woods, be it screams or secrets he couldnât tell. Sometimes he swore they called his name. Sometimes he swore he knew the voice. The sounds never scared him anymoreâit was background noise, like the chime of a clock you couldnât escape. He had learned not to listen too closely. Those who did never came back right.
He didnât need to know. Because he could see one secret that was in front of him.
Scott.
Scott and his impossibly cyan locks of hair, the way it caught the dying light like fractured jewels. The way his eyes shined like the stars. The way he talked, smooth like silk. Scott didnât just stand out in Oakhurstâhe didnât belong to it at all. Looking at him was like staring at sunlight through broken glass: brilliant, cutting, impossible to ignore.
Avid hated him.
Hated the way people bent toward Scott like flowers to the sun. Hated the ease, the charisma, the infuriating smile that seemed to plague his lips, concealing something that Avid couldn't pin down. Hatred was an easier route than admitting Scott unsettled him.
His own sable hair fell into his violet eyes, dark and âbroodingâ, shadows clinging to him like a second skin. He was preparedâhe always wasâbut Scott⌠Scott was chaos incarnate in silk and shadow.
The aforementioned stood a couple strides away from the brunette, smiling withâŚÂ Shelby.
Instantly Avid snapped out of whatever trance he was previously in, storming up to the pair.
Shelby noticed him instantly, honey eyes widening. âAvid!â She shot him an almost pleading look. She hated when he and Scott fought but Avid had to protect her.
His glare didnât soften.
Avidâs steps were sharp against the brittle of the ground, each one punctuating the fury buzzing through his veins. Scottâs back was to himâcyan hair folded neatly into a braid, shoulders straight and all proper, as though nothing the cursed town could touch him. Even the infuriated Avid.
He wanted to rip that smugness off his face.
âScott.â His voice was low, almost a growl.
The man turned.
And Avid froze.
Instead of the bright, beautiful, face that he despised was a stark white mask, carved from bone, empty sockets gaping where eyes should've been. A grinning skull staring back at him.
For a moment, the whispers stopped. The forest stilled. Even Shelbyâs breath hitched beside him.
Avid blinked hard, waiting for the trick to breakâfor the mask to slip, for Scottâs amused laughter to fill the still air. But the skeleton grin held. Silent. Unshaken. His chest twisted, something colder than anger digging under his lungs.
Shelbyâs voice broke the quiet, âAvid?â
Nothing had changedâScott was still standing there, still smiling, only now his upper lips were replaced with teeth.
Avid curled his fingers, âTake that off,â
Scott tilted his head, the mask catching the dying light. As if amused. As if daring the vampire hunter. âNow why would I do that?â
His eyes, though hidden by shadows, twinkled with mischief. His perfectly blushing lips turned into a smile, cold and conceiting. Avid hated it. Hated him.
Avidâs blood boiled.
âY-you think this is a game?â
âAbsolutely,â Another perfect smile.
Scott leaned forward, pointer finger tracing his jaw before stopping under his chin. Then the man forced Avidâs chin up, making him look straight into the voids of the black sockets. Another shiver ran through the brunette.
âTake it off,â Avid said, punctuating each word.
âWhat if I don't?â His face leaned closer, causing a flush to cover the shorterâs face. Just the cold.
âBecause if you donât, Iâll rip it off myself.â
Another smirk.
âOh-kay you two, letâs calm down.â Shelby interjected, her face scrunching into a smile. Her voice was high and bright, attempting lightness, but it trembled at the edges. She stepped forward, planting herself between them with a practiced ease, her notebook clutched like a talisman.
The brunette glared at Scott once again. Scott, as almost feeling Avid's glare, cocked his head towards him, a smiled painted onto his red lips. Avid tore his gaze away, barely able to breathe. His skin still buzzed where Scott had touched him.
Shelby frowned. âSeriously, what is with you two lately?â Her lips turned into a pout, she didnât like it when they fought.
Scott turned, mask still grinning, voice laced with silk and blood. âJust a little⌠tension in the air.â
Shelby narrowed her eyes. âTension that ends with someone dead?â
Avidâs lips parted, a retort on his tongueâbut Scott got there first.
âIâm not that cruel,â he said smoothly, glancing at Avid. âNot unless Iâm invited to be.â
Avid stiffened, his fist clenching at the attention. His cheeks flushed once more, turning a bright bloody red. âYouâre not funny.â
âNo,â Scott mused. âBut Iâm pretty.â As if to emphasize his point, his fingers splayed beneath his chin like the petals of a dark bloom â a gesture too graceful to be anything but intentional.
Shelby groaned. âUgh. I hate this town.â Then she turned on her Mary Jane heels. âJust⌠try not to kill each other? Please? The last thing we need is a murder.â The redhead had barely rounded the corner before Avid spun around, jabbing a finger into Scottâs chest.
âYou think this is funny?â Avid hissed, voice low and sharp.
Scott blinked slowly. The bone-white mask tilted just so, catching the moonlight in a way that made Avidâs stomach twist.
âI think youâre funny,â Scott said softly, almost fond. âAlways so angry. So ready to burn.â
Avidâs hand trembled. He hated how close Scott stoodâclose enough to feel his breath, close enough that his presence wrapped around him like fog.
âTake it off.â
âOr what?â
âI swear, Scottââ
âSwear what?â Scottâs voice was a silk-wrapped knife. âThat youâll stake me? Right here? In front of your little friend? In front of the whole cursed town?â
Avid faltered.
Scott leaned closer, breath brushing his ear. âYou wonât.â
The silence between them crackled, thick and charged. The mask grinned. Avidâs fingers twitched.
âI will.â His voice broke on the last word. âIâllââ
Scottâs hand caught his wrist. Gently. Almost lovingly. âYouâre shaking.â
âIâm not.â
âYou always tremble before you fall.â
Avid shoved him backâbut Scott didnât move. Not really. Not like someone with weight should.
âYouâre not normal,â Avid whispered, voice ragged. âYouâre not human.â
Scott smiled. âMaybeâŚâ he trailed off, hand caressing Avidâs face, making the brunette flinch. âGood luck proving it, allium.â
And with that he left, fading into the ink of the night. Leaving a blushing man with too many questions and too little questions.
â˘Â   â˘Â   â˘
The door slammed with the rage of a man scorned by something ancient and irritatingly attractive.
Avid all but flung his cloak across the banister, muttering curses in a dozen dead languages. His boots were soaked from the marsh path, tracking muddy water across the stone floor as he stormed into the parlor.
By the fire sat Drift, her legs tucked beneath her, coat draped neatly over the chair. She was reviewing hand-scrawled notes beneath candlelight, monocle somehow not falling off, eyes sharp.
Without looking up, she said, âYou're late. Was there a corpse, or just your pride again?â
Avid threw himself dramatically onto the worn velvet settee. âHe called me allium.â
Drift blinked. â...The genus of garlic?â
âYes!â Avid shouted, sitting upright. âHe looked me in the eyeâwith that mask, I mean, not reallyâand said it like it was a compliment! As if Iâm a bouquet in a funeral! A garlic flower! AÂ joke!â
Drift tilted her head. âYou are kind of a bouquet of threats and seasonal depression.â
Avid groaned, flopping backward. âWhy is he like this? Why does he have to speak in riddles and metaphors and... and caress my face like some tragic poem?â
âDid you stab him?â
âIâno! He wasâDrift!â Avid stuttered, unsure of how to reply. He had wanted to stab him, to see the blood bloom on the silky fabric. Had, past tense, he noticed numbly
âShouldâve stabbed him.â
âI wanted to! But then he touched me and the world went allâweird, and I was warm and cold at the same time, and now I think Iâm having a breakdown.â
Drift finally looked up, one brow arched. âSo, a normal Thursday.â
Avid sat up, scowling. âHe moved like he wasnât even real. Like air pretending to be a person. And that maskâI donât think it was painted. I think it was actual bone.â
Drift nodded slowly. âFascinating. And youâre sure you werenât just⌠seduced?â
Avid blinked. âBy death?!â
âWouldnât be the first time. You have a type.â
âI donât have aââ He stopped. Glared. âDonât say it.â
Drift leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. âA pale, mysterious, probably cursed type who calls you by plant names and invades your personal space while whispering sweet existential threats?â
Avid shoved a pillow over his face. âIâm going to throw myself into the forest.â
âIâll pack your garlic.â
âDrift.â
She chuckled and leaned back, eyes narrowing just slightlyâthoughtful. âHeâs testing you.â
Avid lowered the pillow. âWhat?â
âScott,â she said simply. âHeâs drawing lines. Seeing which ones youâll cross. Flirting, yes. But also... measuring.â
Avidâs jaw tensed. âMeasuring what?â
Drift looked into the fire, voice soft. âHow human you are. How far you'll go. How much of yourself you're willing to lose to chase him.â
A long silence.
ââŚHe still called me a garlic flower.â
Drift smiled faintly. âCould be worse. Couldâve called you thyme.â
âI hate you.â
âYou donât. You just hate being seen.â
Avid pulled the pillow back over his face with a grumble. âI hate poets.â
He closed his eyes, pressing a hand to his temple. Heâd been trying to convince himself that Scott was just a problem to be solvedâa puzzle, a threat, a game. But the truth was slipping through his defenses, a quiet whisper in the dark. He was turning, slowly and painfully, into an obsession he couldnât shake. And that scared him more than any vampire ever could.
â˘Â   â˘Â   â˘
Eventually he decided to go to bed. The night had stretched far too long before he had complained to Drift into the early morning, and now all he wanted to do was collapse and fall into oblivion.
But, of course, nothing could ever be so simple.
The first thing he noticed was the draft tumbling through the room, causing a shiver up his spine. The breeze came from the slightly opened window Drift must have propped open during the day and forgot about, too enthralled by her work.
A soft smile on his lips, he walked over to close the pane, when something shiny caught his eye. Hidden among the layer of salt he had sprinkled, was a shine of silver.
Examining it closer, it was his.
The chain that he always wore after the incident. The charm was a locket, made of ironâfor faeiresâand inside was a dyed spider lily petal.
Avid stared at the locket, unmoving.
It shouldnât have been off his neck. He never took it off. Not sinceâ
He thumbed the latch open. It clicked softly, a sound like a whisper from a coffin.
Inside, the petal was still there, pressed and dry as ever. But folded behind itâdelicate, hidden like it had always been thereâwas a slip of parchment.
Avid's breath caught. He hadn't put that there.
With trembling fingers, he unfolded it. The paper crackled like old skin. The ink was brownânot quite black, faded by time and perhaps something olderâand the writing curled with impossible grace, slanted and flowing like water.
It was handwriting. Not modern. Not even close.
It looked like it had been written when gods still walked in daylight and people still whispered about monsters instead of posting warnings on fences.
He squinted at the strange, looped lettersâ
And felt the blood drain from his face.
You dropped this, Allium.
His eyes, a muted violet, widened, rereading the line over and over. Allium. Allium
His face blushed, the nickname oddly sweet. If only it wasn't from him...
The brunette sat lightly on his mattress, the bed squeaking under the added weight. His fingers brushed against the dried cursive that seemed to belong to centuries ago. It did, he reminded himself.
And yet, the words felt like a trap disguised in silk and flirts.
He had to be careful, Avid decided. Had to watch the vampire, carefully. Watch for some sort of slip up that Avid could use to prove, to everyone, that the man was a vampire.
Because no matter how much Scottâs smile beckoned, no matter how dangerously close he pressed, Avid knew that beneath that charming mask lay something far darker than the myths whispered in Oakhurst.
And he wouldnât be the one to fall into that darkness without a fight.
He slipped the necklace over his head, the metal burning cold against his warm neck. The hung heavy, a comforting weight that he hadn't realized had left him. Blowing on the half melted candle on his night stand, he fell into a light sleep. One full of nothing but silence.
And if his hand snaked to his locket, with a smile brushing his lips. Well that was between him and the spirits.
â˘Â   â˘Â   â˘
Avid had attempted everything to get the vampire to accidentally out himself.
Lured him out into the sunlight (which he did with no hesitation) to tried to expose him to holy water (that wasn't actually that holy, he later learned), he had tried them all over the last couple of weeks.
He had one last idea.
Avidâs boots crunched against the brittle ground, each step deliberate, carrying the weight of months of silent plotting. In his hands, a bouquet of alliumsâblooms of garlic and wildflowers, sharp and fragrant, a quiet warning wrapped in petals.
Scott stood at the edge of town, mask gleaming in the fading light, arms crossed like he was waiting for a joke. Or a challenge.
Avid stepped forward, holding the bouquet out like an offeringâand a gauntlet.
âI picked these for you,â he said, voice low, steady, but with a hard edge beneath it. âAllium. Thought you might appreciate the irony.â
Scottâs eyes, shadowed beneath the bone mask, flickered with something unreadableâamusement? Approval? The smile beneath the skull widened.
âWell, arenât you clever,â Scott said, reaching out to take the flowers. His fingers brushed against Avidâs, and a sudden heat bloomed up the shorterâs arm, sharp and unexpected.
Cleo, watching from her garden, which was filled with thriving plants, rolled their eyes, whispering, âFinally. About time you two stopped pretending and just flirted.â
Avidâs jaw clenched, but Scott only laughedâa smooth, chilling sound that danced between mockery and something dangerously close to affection.
âYou think these flowers will make me show my true self?â Scottâs voice lowered, threateningly. âOr is this just another one of your little games?â
âMaybe both,â Avid said, stepping closer, feeling more confident than usual, the scent of garlic thick in the air between them. âMaybe Iâm daring you to drop the act.â
Scott leaned in, the mask almost touching Avidâs face. âOr maybe Iâm daring you to look closer.â
The tension crackled like the forest around them, a spark ready to ignite.
Pearlâs voice, who was sitting on her porch--petting the air?--cut through the silence again, light and teasing. âYou two are hopeless. But at least itâs entertaining.â
The bouquet hung between themâa symbol of challenge, threat, and something dangerously close to something neither wanted to admit.
He hated Scott. Or at least thatâs what he told himself. But lately, the edge of his mind was caught, tangled, twisted around the vampire in ways he didnât want to admit. It wasnât just suspicion anymoreâit was something else. Something dangerously close to obsession.
And in that moment, no one saw what was really happening.
Except Avid.
â˘Â   â˘Â   â˘
Avid had enough.
He was going to reveal Scott one way or another.
He just needed to corner him. Threaten him by holding a stake to his heart. Make him confess.
Avidâs breath hitched as he rounded the side of the house. Moonlight spilled over the cracked wooden siding, casting long shadows that tangled with the dark underbrush.
He spotted Scottâs silhouette near the garbage bins, hands casually tucked into his pockets, leaning against the peeling paint like he owned the place.
âScott,â Avid called out, trying to keep his voice steady but knowing it sounded like a challenge.
Scottâs head tilted, and that lazy smile curved his lips. âLooking for me, darling?â
Avidâs pulse sped. This was it.
He moved closer, narrowing the distance between them â but Scott slid away, smooth as smoke, a glint of amusement in his shadowed eyes.
âNot so fast,â Scott teased, stepping aside. âWe could talk all night.â
Avid clenched his fists. âNo more games.â
The vampireâs smile deepened, but then, in a flicker, he stepped backwardâright into the corner of the porch where the house jutted out.
Avid lunged, trapping Scott between him and the wall.
Scottâs smile faltered for just a second before he leaned forward, voice low and teasing, âSo bold, allium. Careful, you might get burned.â
But Avid didnât hesitate.
Avidâs hands trembled as he gripped the stake tighter, the cool wood pressing against his palm. His eyes never left Scottâs skeletal mask â that cruel, mocking facade that hid too many secrets.
Scottâs smile was a sharp slash beneath the bones. âIs that so?â
Before Avid could react, Scott moved â slow, deliberate â until he was mere inches away. The warmth from his body pushed against Avidâs like a challenge.
With a surge of reckless courage, Avidâs fingers found the edges of the mask. He yanked it free in one swift motion.
Beneath the cracked bone and shadows, Scottâs real face shone â beautiful, impossible.
âRedâŚâ Avid trailed off staring into the depths of the others eyes.
âHm?â Scott mused, raising a perfect brow.
âY-your eyes⌠You're a vampire!!â Scottâs eyes widened before being replaced with a glare. âYouâre a vamââ
He was cut off by Scott spinning him, around against the wood of the house behind him. Avid squeezed his eyes shut, praying to the spirits that it wouldnât hurt. And that he was sorry.
But the sharp pain of death never came, instead replaced by the soft warmth of lips against his.
He opened his eyes to see Scott, eyes shut, way too close to him.
Avid, only then, dumbly realized what was happening.
Warmth flooded through his already flushed face, feeling the silky softness of lips brush against his own chapped and bitten raw ones. Scottâs hands trailed their way to one on his cheek, the other on the nape of his neck.
Shivers flooded his body at the caress, how sweet it was. How gentle it was.
Avid, against his better judgement, pushed into the kiss, deepening it. His hands didnât move, they stayed trembling by his side. The vampireâAvid reminded himselfâpushed back, the brunetteâs head hitting the rotted wood, tilted upwards.
The vampire's hand snaked down to his jaw, pulling him farther up. Avid, in a clearer mindset, might have complained about the pull in his neck, but now, his brain was too dizzy to think straight.
Instead his hands finally moved, carding his fingers the silk of Scottâs hair, messing up the perfectness that he always had. His fingers tangled in the thick strands of Scottâs hair, pulling gently as if grounding himself in the moment â despite everything screaming that this was madness.
Scottâs teeth worried over his bottom lip before biting down.
Avid felt it before he registered itâsharp and sudden, a sting that burned across his mouth. The bite was sharp, a sudden sting that burned across his lip â but beneath the pain bloomed a strange heat, spreading outwards, intoxicating and overwhelming.
He jerked back, hand flying to his lips. A taste hit his tongue, a sweet but bitter linger, iron heavy on his tongue. Warmth slicked his palm. A drop trailed down, slow, deliberate. Blood. Crimson like⌠like Scottâs eyes.
His gaze snapped up. Scottâs hair was mussed, his clothes creased, his smile just a little too wide. That look in his eyesâwild, hungry, beautiful. Avidâs cheeks betrayed him, flushing warm.
âY-youâŚâ
His gaze lowered, back to the ground. Darting anywhere elseâcracks in the cobble, the dying grassâanywhere but those eyes.
âMe?â Scott purred, coy and pretty. His fingers cupped Avidâs jaw again, tilting his face back up, forcing him to meet those red, red eyes.
Avidâs words stuck. His violet eyesâwide, tremblingâlocked on Scottâs. It was dizzying, to look in his eyes. The dark vermillion pulling him in like a siren's song. They looked wrong, if Avid was being honest. He had grown used to the pretty blue they were before, the one that looked like stars.
âI-i..â
âCome on, darling..â his voice was like silk, too soft and smooth to be genuine. His thumb brushed against Avidâs lips, before bringing it to his mouth, tongue darting out.
Avidâs chest tightened. His gaze flicked to Scottâs lipsâvibrant, red, almost soft. Too soft for someone who had just bitten him. They curved into a smile, gentle and cruel all at once, as though Scott knew exactly how flustered he was.
âMm,â Scott hummed low in his throat. âYou taste divine.â
Avid shouldâve run, shouldâve screamed. He shouldâve grabbed the stake strapped to his belt and drove it straight through the vampireâs heart.
Instead, he stepped forward, arms circling Scottâs neck, dragging him down into another kiss.
Scott didnât hesitate. His mouth caught Avidâs with practiced ease, lips pressing too deep, too hungry, like heâd been waiting for this. Avid gasped, and Scott took it as an invitation, tongue slipping past, tasting, claiming.
The taste of blood lingered between them, copper-sweet, intoxicating. Avid tried not to shiver, tried not to think about how his knees nearly buckled. This wasnât right. It wasnât.
Scottâs hands slid down his sides, steadying him, pulling him closer until their bodies pressed flush. Avidâs fingers curled against his shirt, clinging without meaning to. His thoughts were a messâdrawn between fear and, horrifically, want.
Scott smiled against his mouth, feeling the hesitation, the betrayal of Avidâs trembling. âThatâs it,â he murmured between kisses, breath warm, velvet. âDonât fight it, darling.â
Avid wanted to shove him away, stake him, scream at himâanything but this.
But his hands fisted in Scottâs shirt anyway, yanking him closer, kissing him back like heâd drown if he stopped. His breaths came short and desperate, every brush of Scottâs mouth sparking heat through him.
Scott, by contrast, was maddeningly slow. His lips curved in a smile against Avidâs, teasing, deliberate. One hand at the small of his back kept him steady, the other cupping his jaw, guiding him as though Avid were something fragile. When Avid pressed harder, Scott eased away just enough to make him chase.
âCareful,â Scott murmured, voice brushing warm against his mouth. âYouâre acting like you actually want this.â
Avid growled low in his throat, too breathless for words, and kissed him harderâmessy, furious, desperate. Scott only laughed softly, kissing back with that same agonizing patience, like he had all the time in the world.
Another sharp nip at his lipâScottâs teeth dragging slow, purposefulâmade Avid shudder. He hated how it pulled a sound out of him, hated even more how Scottâs smile widened at the noise.
âMm,â Scott whispered, almost tender, though his eyes glinted red. âYou taste better when you give in.â
Avid wanted to argue. Wanted yell and scream. But his cheeks burnt red, and he pushed forward once more. Into oblivion. Into death. Into surrender.
Scottâs thumb lingered at the corner of Avidâs mouth, smearing the faint trace of blood before dragging down to his chin. His touch was light, maddening. âThere you go,â he breathed, lips brushing the words against Avidâs swollen mouth. âSo much prettier when you stop pretending.â
Avidâs chest heaved. He shouldâve shoved him back. He didnât. His grip only tightened, nails catching on fabric as if he could anchor himself in the very thing undoing him.
Scott tilted his head, nosing along Avidâs cheek, down to the hinge of his jaw. His breath was hot, his voice softer, lower. âYouâre trembling.â
âIâIâm notââ The denial caught in his throat when sharp teeth grazed his skin, a warning, a promise. Avidâs knees nearly gave.
Scott laughed, low and wicked, and kissed him again, stealing the sound from his mouth. This kiss was differentâslower, deeper, a languid claiming. It made Avidâs pulse roar in his ears, dizzy with want and dread all tangled.
And still, when Scott finally drew back, lips glistening, Avid leaned forward like a fool chasing the ruin of him.
âAh,â Scott leant backwards. âBe patient, allium.â
Allium. The flower of garlic. Unity, patience, mockery.
Avid, ashamedly, whined. The sound slipped out before he could bite it back, high and desperate, and his face burned hot.
Scottâs grin widened, sharp and devastating. âOh, donât pout, darling. It doesnât suit you.â His hand slid up Avidâs chest, slow and deliberate, pressing flat over his racing heart. âBesides⌠you smell far too sweet to keep me away.â
Avidâs throat bobbed. He shouldâve shoved him off, said something sharp, anything. Instead, he stood frozen under Scottâs touch, trembling, breath ragged.
Scott leaned in again, close enough that his lips brushed the shell of Avidâs ear when he whispered, âBeg, and maybe Iâll give you what you want.â
The words sent a shiver down Avidâs spine. He hated it. He hated him.
And yetâhis hands stayed locked in Scottâs shirt, clinging like it was the only thing keeping him upright.
When he didnât answer, Scott hummed, soft and taunting. His teeth scraped the curve of Avidâs neck, not quite breaking skin, not yet. âPatience, allium,â he murmured again, savoring the way Avidâs breath hitched at the threat. âI promise it wonât hurt.â
âW-whaââ
Scott didnât let him finish. His mouth opened against Avidâs throat, fangs sinking in clean and sharp.
Avid gasped, a choked sound that tumbled into a ragged gasp, body arching forward as pain flared brightâfollowed by something hotter, heavier, that dragged his breath short. His fingers tangled in Scottâs shirt, pulling instead of pushing. The vampireâs hum vibrated against his skin, low and satisfied, as he drank in slow, deliberate pulls.
Every heartbeat felt stolen, his pulse thrumming out of control. Avidâs chest heaved, heat spreading dizzy and sweet, wrong and intoxicating. His lips parted on a sound he couldnât swallow.
Scottâs hands were steadyâone firm at his back, the other cupping his jaw, tilting his throat just so. He licked between pulls, savoring the blood, eyes glinting red with teasing hunger.
Instantly, Scott froze, fangs slipping free. The bite ended, leaving a shallow, pulsing mark. His lips glistened red, but the predatory gleam in his eyes softened.
For a moment, there was only Avidâs ragged breathing, his trembling fingers brushing at the wound, knees nearly giving out. Scott leaned back slightly, slow, deliberate, but there was gentleness now in his movements.
âAre you alright?â he murmured, voice still low and silky, but softened, almost intimate. He brushed a thumb over the trace of blood at the corner of Avidâs mouth, smoothing it away.
Avidâs chest heaved, heart racing. He expected mockery, hunger, another bite. Instead he got Scottâs gaze holding steady on him, patient and watchful.
âYouâreââ Avid swallowed hard. âYouâre a monster.â
Scottâs lips quirked faintly. âMm. Maybe. But not with you. Not tonight.â
He leaned closer, thumb lingering at the corner of Avidâs lips, eyes teasing but gentle. âAnd yetâŚâ His grin returned, softer, warmer, just enough to make Avidâs chest twist. ââŚyou still want me, donât you?â
Avid could only blink, trapped between exasperation, embarrassment, and something else, something wild and irresistible.
âI wouldnât say wantâŚâ He turned away from the now gentle stare of the vampire, praying to the spirits that the moonlight covered up his flushed face.
A laugh echoed through the silence, soft like a windchime. Pretty, warm, and it made Avidâs cheeks burn all over again.
He spared a glance at Scott and froze. That grinâplayful, teasing, but somehow gentleâheld him in place, making his chest flutter.
âYou really are something, allium,â Scott murmured, tilting his head just so. âSo frazzled, so stubborn⌠yet somehow, utterly captivating.â
Avidâs hands hovered awkwardly over Scottâs chest, unsure whether to push away or lean closer. He tried to speak, tried to insist he wasnât⌠affected. But the words felt small, pointless against the pull of Scottâs red-tinged eyes and soft smile.
Scott leaned in, close enough that his warm breath brushed Avidâs ear. âYou donât have to fight it,â he whispered, gentle now, but playful still. âI like it when you blush.â
Avidâs heart thudded in his chest, loud and impossible to ignore. His fingers twitched, longing to reach out, and yet he stayed still, caught between embarrassment and the weird, dizzying comfort of Scottâs closeness.
Scott chuckled, quiet and affectionate, resting a hand lightly over Avidâs. âSee? Nothing to worry about,â he said softly, thumb brushing over the back of Avidâs hand. âYouâre safe with me⌠at least for tonight.â
Avid blinked, the warmth pooling in his chest spreading to his stomach, to his fingertips. He wanted to argue, to protest, but instead he just let a small smile slip, flustered and helpless.
Scottâs grin softened, lips just a fraction curved, eyes twinkling. âThere it is,â he murmured, voice low and teasing. âThe real you⌠beautiful, stubborn, and entirely mine.â
Avidâs knees threatened to give way, and he caught himself against Scott, letting the moment wash over himâsoft, silly, intimate, and entirely, deliciously theirs.
âThere you two are!!â yelled a voice in the distance.
Avid instantly pushed Scott away, spinning around to see a familiar redhead running.
Shelby came barreling toward them, notebook clutched like a shield, cheeks pink from running. âI thought you were dead!â She exclaimed, adjusting her glasses. Then her amber eyes widened, with something akin to worry. âYou two were fighting again werenât you?â
Her lips formed a pout as she glanced between them as her brow cinched together. âWhy canât you two get along?â
Avid was about to say something, to reassure her, but Scott beat him to it, âDonât worry Shells. Avid and I⌠have come to an agreement..â
Avid froze, cheeks burning hotter than the sun. âW-we have?â he stammered, eyes darting between Scott and Shelby.
Scott gave him a slow, teasing smile, thumbs brushing over Avidâs shoulders. âWe⌠worked things out,â he said, voice deceptively soft, eyes glinting with mischief.
Shelby blinked, clearly unconvinced, but her brow furrowed as she studied them. âUh-huh. You definitely were fighting. You canât lie to me, Scott.â she said, tapping her notebook as if that proved it. âI mean, I was so worried. One of you couldâve been deaâgone. And look at you twoââ Her gaze flicked between their flushed faces, lingering on Avidâs trembling hands and Scottâs too-perfect smirk. âThis doesnât look like an argument to meâŚâ
Avid groaned internally, wishing the ground would swallow him whole. Scott, on the other hand, leaned closer, resting his hand on Avidâs shoulder, voice playful but soft. âSee? Nothing to worry about, Shelbs. All is well. WeâreâŚÂ cooperating.â
Shelby blinked, unconvinced but relieved, hands tightening around her notebook. âCooperating? Hmph. You two are impossible. Just donât kill each otherâ
Avid shot Scott a glare, half embarrassed, half exasperated. Scott only chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from Avidâs forehead, eyes sparkling. âWeâll try.â
Shelby groaned, dropping into a dramatic flop against the nearest house. âI give up. You two are hopeless,â she muttered, shaking her head. âBut donât make me worry again. Seriously.â
Avidâs cheeks flamed hotter than ever, and he wished the earth would swallow him whole as Shelbyâs sharp eyes flicked between him and Scott, clearly reading more between the lines than she let on.
Avidâs heart was still racing, and Scottâs soft laugh vibrated against his ear. He wanted to protest, wanted to claim that nothing had happenedâbut somehow, the warmth pooling in his chest, the teasing smile of the vampire, and the way Scottâs hand lingered over his, made all words impossible.
Scott whispered, just for him, âSee? Even Shelby canât ruin this moment.â
Avidâs blush deepened, but a small, helpless smile escaped anyway.
Agnarr shook in the rain, tied to a rock. He was stripped of his clothes, royal dark green with hints of purple and dark brown boots, and forced into reindeer skin clothes and thick boots of skin. They were soft, but also irritating from the beating he had received when the Northuldra hunted him down. He was told that he was a sacrifice, to the Northuldra's wind goddess, to pay for his father's actions within their forest. So now, here he waited.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
(@noratheelk)
fandom: vampire smp
rating: mature (due to blood and stuff<3)
focus: avid x scott
warnings: blood (minor but still there)(also read the tags<3)
words: 5k
in the shadows of a forgotten town, avid corners scott, desperate for truth â but beneath the skeletal mask lies a secret burning crimson. a confession made not with words, but with a kiss that tastes of blood and fire. in that moment, fear and desire collide, blurring the line between hunter and hunted, leaving only the fragile promise of something dangerously beautiful.
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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
(@artistic-gremlin :3)
fandom: vampires smp
rating: teen
focus: firelocke <3 (pyro x abolish)
warnings: vsmp spoilers, blood, potential ed (not rlly but to be safe)
words: 3.1k :D!!
summary:
hellebore: hope, serenity, delirium
the woods are full of cold and hunger.
pyro walks through frost and shadovw, craving something he cannot name.
abolish waits, impossibly alive, a human beacon framed in lamp-gold and moonlight.
a taste, a tremor, a moment suspended between desire and restraint.
in the silence afterward, something fragile remainsâa bloom that may survive the night.
six hundred years after his fall, scottâs garden still breathes â red poppies growing from the graves he once tended with love and guilt.
pyro finds him there one storm-drenched night, drawn by the flowers and the ache that wonât heal.
blood blooms, old memories wake, and somewhere between devotion and damnation, something alive begins to grow again.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
fandom: vampires smp
rating: teen
focus: avid x scott (idk what their ship name is lol)
warnings: vsmp spoilers, blood drinking,
words: 2.7k
summary:
beneath a bleeding moon and the bones of an old tower, avid finds him again â the vampire cloaked in silk and smoke, all crimson eyes and velvet lies.
he came to save a life.
he didnât come for scott.
but when their eyes meet across rusted gates, the world shifts, and every forbidden ache returns like blood to a wound.
this isnât a rescue.
itâs a haunting.
and avid isnât sure whoâs hunting who.