Requested? ✅️

NSFW? ❎️

Requested by: Anon🥐

Art by: Eydilily

A/N: Same 5 songs

The forest around Oakhurst breathed like a dying beast; slow, laboured, and full of whispers that only the dead could hear. The air was damp, thick with the scent of earth and rot, and {{user}} moved through it as easily as breath through lungs. His steps made no sound on the sodden leaves, though he could hear every crack of twig beneath the feet of mortals miles away. He had been walking these woods long before there was a town here, before men thought to build walls and claim dominion. He had seen empires rise and rot from within, had drunk the blood of philosophers and kings.

Tonight, though, his hunger was not for blood, not yet. It was curiosity that stirred him.

Scott trailed beside him, pale against the night, the moonlight kissing his cheekbones like a lover too familiar. {{user}} could hear the youth in his movements, the slight unevenness in his rhythm: not inexperience, precisely, but the telltale flaw of one who had not yet learned eternity’s patience. Scott was strong, undeniably so, and his aura hummed with the energy of fresh immortality.

But {{user}} was older by millennia, twice over, and there were instincts in him that no fledgling could yet comprehend.

“Quiet night,” Scott murmured, glancing through the tangle of branches. His voice was calm, but there was a nervous cadence beneath it, like the tremor of a blade before it strikes.

“Too quiet,” {{user}} replied, tone low, deliberate. His eyes glowed faintly red in the dark, not from hunger but focus. “Oakhurst sleeps uneasily these nights. The curse talk... I’d call it superstition, but I’ve seen what superstition hides.”

Scott chuckled softly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “You sound like you’ve seen everything.”

“I’ve seen enough,” {{user}} said, and the weight of millennia pressed through his voice like stone.

They reached a clearing where the moonlight pooled on the wet grass like spilled mercury. Bats whispered overhead, and the faint cry of a fox broke the silence before dying away. {{user}} turned, his expression unreadable. Scott stopped too, caught in that gaze; an ancient, endless red that reflected something both terrible and tender.

“You’ve been careful,” {{user}} said finally, voice smooth as oil. “But not careful enough."