#like would drink from him and then have daniel drink his blood

[brain-rot-central]

Book Daniel and Armand really are toxic young man yaoi

[iwtv-theories]

Similarities between Daniel & Armand (analysis)

In the iconography: 20 y old Daniel is on his knees (and 20 y old Amadeo is on his knees in the painting). I also have to point out that young Daniel has a startling resemblance to the white-washed Amadeo painting as well. A visual cue that they’re more alike than meets the eye.

"Bartering with desire" vs "in kind". At 20, both were 'rent boys'. Daniel 'bartered' himself for dr*gs. While Armand was 'donated...in kind' to pay for art work . "In kind" = payment in goods or services as opposed to money. "Bartering"= trade by exchanging one commodity for another. 

At the end of Louis' interviews both get their heads shoved into walls.This could be visual symbolism : both their ‘minds are broken’ because both of them can’t recall a decade’s worth of memories. Ironically, Louis may know more of his own story , than Daniel or Armand .

"curiosity"

“An instinct to self efface" . Effacement :“to erase oneself from a situation (to keep oneself in the background ) ” . Cough Armand literally erasing himself from memories & his Rashid disguise. Interestingly, out of all the traits Armand lists about Daniel this is the one trait Daniel agrees is true about himself. Both of them use ‘self-effacement’ as a manipulation tactic to find connection with others. Armand does so to stay with Louis. Daniel uses it to "get angles” and get people to "open up" to him. Literally right after Daniel said this he almost got Armand to open up about his life story

Armand:" That warrants investigation" vs Daniel the "investigative journalist".

Daniel & Armand lounging on the couch and saying Louis is being overly dramatic XD

being turned while having terminal illnesses : Parkinson's (Daniel) & in the show an unknown illness (for Armand) . Similarly , in the books Daniel was turned due to alcohol poisoning and Armand due to being poisoned.

Armand says in ep 4 his memories as a human are “fragments” vs Daniel saying his memories from the 70s-80s were a “blur” .

Both are called “boy” despite being old men. Santiago, the youngest coven member referring to the oldest : “I don’t know what the boy sees in him.” Louis: “he looked like a boy masquerading as a gentleman.” Daniel: “I’m not your f*cking boy! I’m an old man with all the triggers that come with it.” Daniel : “save it for the rent boy.” Armand looking visibly triggered by the comment then asking to leave the room . Armand to Marius (who often called him “boy”) : “I hate you! I’m a man and you deny it!”

As a human , book Amadeo had a drinking problem while book Daniel almost died of alcohol poisoning. Young Daniel (in the show) may also have drinking issues like his book counterpart /book Amadeo. Armand to Daniel in episode 5 : “a genteel drinking problem , like your father .” Armand’s dad : “Ivan the drunkard… Ivan was hopeless. Ivan would never see another sober night or day .Ivan would die soon poisoned by liquor./ a soft prayer for my father that he would not freeze to death tonight as he had almost done so many times, falling down drunk as he did in the snow. (*this echoes human amadeo getting so drunk he fell into the canal)”

Show Armand says Marius called him his "beloved Amadeo", which seems like foreshadowing/an easteregg of 70s dm since "beloved" was his nickname for Daniel in the books. Armand tries to emulate the Marius/Amadeo dynamic in his future relationships since he still equates it to love. Like how he tries to put himself in the Amadeo role with Louis as his 'Maitre (master) '. But for d.m he put Daniel in the Amadeo position (partially because it’s his first relationship with a human , since becoming a vampire and his relationship with Marius is the only vampire/human relationship he’s had) . So at least on some superficial level he recreates some aspects of the Marius/Amadeo dynamic, with Daniel .

In the books Marius feeds human Amadeo his blood, like Armand does to human Daniel. In the books amadeo says Marius’ blood tastes like “honey”.Cough- Louis describing Armand's blood as tasting like "honey" and Armand saying to Daniel in ep 5 "like honey on your tongue" (*this could be foreshadowing he will drink Armand's blood in the 70s/80s… or simply when he was turned).

Armand , during their first encounter, says “it’s okay it’ll be like a bath ” after he uses a rag (to remove the dried blood from his neck). This reminds me of when Marius first met amadeo and used a rag to clean his face / give him a bath. “He bathed me slowly . He had a soft gathered cloth with which he wiped my face.”

Human Amadeo/daniel were incredibly sarcastic and snarky to their future vampire makers

In the books, when Armand reunited with Marius in Tva he mumbled annoyed “same old tricks”. In tqotd , when Daniel reunited with Armand he says “same old dance.”

And both of their makers abandoned them

The parallels between Armand/Daniel persist throughout ep 5 , Daniel says he’d be a good companion to Louis because he has traits similar to Lestat and Claudia . 

But the IRONY is throughout the whole episode we see Daniel has A LOT of similarities to Armand . Possibly laying the groundwork for devil's minion in the 70s-80s.

I think while Armand was reading Daniel’s mind -whether it was as subconscious or conscious - it irritated him even more that they had so much in common. Or at least how similar Daniel was to Amadeo. Especially because he was trying to discern why Louis found him “more fascinating” .

For Example , all the other traits Armand lists out about Daniel’s could also be attributed to himself

'Dirty'

'deceitful'

'Enterprising'

'A splinter of coldness ' .

“He wants you in pieces for the privilege of putting you back together “

There’s also other more superficial similarities like Daniel saying he’d do night swims if he was a vampire (similar to Armand who swims often). Or the fact they both read the newspaper often.

I feel one of the MANY reasons Daniel and Armand were probably constantly butting heads and being snarky to each other in the present timeline is because on some subconscious level they remind each other of themselves (and they don’t want to acknowledge that). Especially Armand who is constantly playing a new character to placate his lovers . Young Daniel definitely reminded him of Amadeo . Similar to how Claudia reminded Armand of his past self as well .  

If I missed anything feel free to add to the comments or in a reblog :P

[ohthatsmiggles]

little repost

The dracula case.

Richard Chase , aka The Vampire of Sacramento.

He was nicknamed this, as he drank the blood of his victims and cannibalized their remains. Everyone in his life knew he was mentally ill, even his own mother! Please proceed at your own risk, as this case mentions children, the dismemberment of people, etc. It may be a little bad, this is my second time making this type of post!

Richard Trenton Chase was born on May 23rd in 1950, he was an American spree killer who murdered six people in Sacramento, California. He was allegedly abused by his mother whilst growing up, though his father also physically disciplined him but that was usual for the time. By the age of 10, he already checked out for the MacDonald triad, which is bed wetting, animal torture and fire setting. Chase realized very young about his dark urges, though not ever being able to be in with a girl due to his impotence, he in adolescence then became an alcoholic with a chronic drug problem. Chase, keep in mind, was a paranoid schizophrenic, moving out from his mother because he personally believed his mother was trying to poison him. He moved in with a couple friends, they often complained that he smelt of weed, though he never cared, paying no attention to guests, walking around naked, they eventually got tired of him, telling him to move out. But he refused, so they moved out instead.

Whilst alone, he began to torture animals, he would dismember these animals, making them into milkshakes blended into cola. He had a belief that his heart was shrinking, that it wasn't beating correctly since his childhood, he believed consuming blood and the animal remains would help him from not dying.

In 1975, he was institutionalized due to his blood poisoning from injecting animal blood into his veins. He scared the patients horribly, even the nurses, they gave him the nickname "Dracula", being described as awfully bizarre. He was then prescribed medication, being taken out from the ward in 1976 after being deemed safe (My god, were they wrong.) Anyways, he was placed in the care of his mother. His mother, the cruel woman she was, got tired of her son, kicking him practically out, forbidding him to take his anti psychotic medication, claiming that it made him boring, dulling his personality, like a zombie, even though advised not to by the doctors. So she instead got him his own apartment. When he got his own apartment, he began to eat dogs and birds, hanging them up. Chase's neighbor, said she saw cats and dogs enter the apartment then never go out, so she never knew what happened to them, though she could have reported it, as it was not allowed for them to have animals.

The killings

He used a .22 Automatic handgun to kill his victims, first was a drive-by shooting, then the rest were home invasions. After shooting his victims, he would mutilate, drinking the blood, he would engage within necrophilia with female victims only. The victims include : An unidentified woman ( Shot, but missed ) Ambrose Griffin, 51 ( Shot in the chest. ) An unidentified boy, 12 ( Shot, missed. ) Teresa, 22 ( Shot twice in the head, then once in the hand! She was repeatedly stabbed, her organs removed, cut off her nipples, forcing her to eat dog feces, partially eaten at. Also necrophilia was done to her body, three months pregnant. ) Daniel Meredith, 51 ( Shot, then mutilated. ) Evelyn Miroth, 38 ( Slashed throat, shot, disemboweled, partially eaten,  failed to take out one of her eyes, engaged in necrophilia. ) Jason 6, ( Shot, then brutally mutilated once dead. ) David 1, ( Shot, eaten partially and mutilated. )

Facts

In 1977, Chase was arrested in Lake Tahoe, he had a bucket of blood, also guns in his car. He managed to convince an officer it was just from an animal, so there was no report made. ( He claimed it was cows blood, specifically. ) Witnesses saw him with a dog once, though the dog was never recovered so they truly never saw it again, so they never knew what happened to it, this is the same time the lake incident had happened. He had delusions of an alien force, and insisted he only ate humans because the outside forces were going to steal his blood! He thought his heart was shrinking as I mentioned, so ingesting blood also helped him from not dying. He had schizophrenia noticeable in his childhood, but it worsened throughout when he got older. He had a stable life at 20, but it crumbled. He then got into the ward, though he had killed one before, his mother insisted and weared him off his medication, making him go onto a whole spree. He also had hypochondria. Neighbors heard him shooting at the walls, he claimed it was the voices he had heard. He lied about his mental illnesses, so he could get his weapon of choice, it happened after he had purchased it. He killed small puppies, trying to steal a large dog, but luckily, he failed. His sister was afraid of him. In prison, he spoke about ufos and nazis, being afraid of them, wanting to get a gun to protect himself, he also claimed to be jewish, drawing the star of david on his forehead. He believed the prison leagues were in contact with the Nazis, trying to kill him with the food. He was sentenced to death by , but instead, at 11:05 am, December 26th, 1980, he killed himself from an overdose when he was hoarding his medication. The reasons truly were unknown. more may be added later! I hope you enjoyed. :)

[collegeboysam]

Armand worries for/about Daniel in so many little moments even since season 1, it's driving me INSANE.

It's Armand the one who tells Daniel he's going to take his medicine there and how his doctor has already been contacted for the details. He says Louis arranged it, but did he? We have seen Armand arrange everything in there, we even see the doctor sitting next to "Rashid" after he gives Daniel the iv drip. When Louis is feeding from "Rashid" in front of Daniel, Louis asks Daniel if he wants a taste and Armand gets this weird look about it (we know Daniel gets addicted to Armand's blood in the books) and then starts to get upset telling Daniel he wouldn't let him near his neck/his blood. He has a worried/unsettled look when Louis says he would give Daniel the dark gift now. Armand even asks Louis if he can leave at that moment. He's the one who stops Louis when he's ramping up Daniel's parkinson's. He reassures Daniel when they bring up Alice and apologizes for it afterwards, he knows how to make drinks exactly how Daniel likes them, asks real Rashid if anyone approached Daniel when they were out, he mentions how doing drugs back in the day caused more damage to Daniel than anything Armand ever did. He looks miserable when Daniel says he doesn't forgive him.

Armand is Daniel's all-loving demonic god indeed.

[anjelicawrites]

Paring: Lestat de Lioncourt x reader

Synopsis: sick and tired as you are of Lestat’s treatment you decide to put your situationship on hold, until he comes for you. Inspired by the SDCC trailer.

Warnings: toxic relationship, kissing, p in v sex, blood drinking, biting, choking, clit pinching, edging, violence, butchering of the French language.

A/N: reader is AFAB. They/them pronouns used, but French is a gendered language, which forces me to decline the adjectives as feminine whenever Lestat uses them when referring to reader.

The bustling in the dressing room is doubled by the fact that there’s no space to move; the concert is due to start in no time and you are all still running about, trying to prepare the man of the hour, the rock star the people in the arena are cheering, whose name they’re screaming at the top of their lungs: The Vampire Lestat. The one and only.

NSFW and 18+ only please!

Your current walking, not breathing headache. The undead man you’re trying to ignore with all your might.

You had asked a colleague to do his hair and makeup these last few nights, even though you’re supposed to be his personal stylist, and threw yourself into working with the rest of the band as a revenge for the way he’s been treating you lately; you know you’re on borrowed time, that he’s letting you give him the cold shoulder that, if he truly wanted, you’d be still working on him, whether you liked it or not.

You almost crash in one of the documentary crew people: they swarm everywhere and are always in everyone’s general space, filming and asking questions. You try to lay low, do your job and then hide until the next concert, yet you feel like the journalist, Daniel Molloy, has his eyes trained on you behind his tinted glasses, and you don’t like it: Lestat has a rabid fanbase, if anyone had the inkling he’s fucking you (because to call whatever it is what you two have a ‘relationship’ would be an exaggeration), you’d have no peace.

Lestat has been a menace, more than his usual self, during rehearsal and in his dressing room, unhappy with the various options for the Halloween concert, changing his outfits too many times and now your colleagues are in a hurry to prepare him, hence why you’re here instead on your perch backstage, ready to do touch ups in between songs.

You ignore his stunning eyes as you bend to finish applying the last layer of powder on his forehead and nose.

“Ma choue.”

You can hear is deep voice in your head, almost snapping the small brush in a half in annoyance: he knows you hate it when he calls you ‘my cabbage’, it makes your blood boil that it’s supposed to be a term of endearment; who, in their right mind would call someone at least dear to them ‘cabbage’? Might as well call them ‘lettuce’ or ‘ tomatoes’!

“Tu me manques.” He continues, his face not betraying any emotion, while his hand moves sneakily to caress the inside of your tight; in your head his voice has taken that low timbre of when he’s deep inside of you, fighting his orgasm.

“Would that be all, Mr. De Lioncourt?” You ask, coldly, moving away from his grasp. “You don’t look like you need me.”

Your words echo his when he dismissed you, not longer than a week ago, right before the first day of shooting.

As used as you are to his mercurial moods, that day you were already angry with him, his careless words were the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back and made you decide to put whatever the two of you have going on (“Still better than Twilight” a voice in your head keeps telling you) on an indefinite hold or, as indefinite as he’ll decide it’s going to be.

Before leaving for the backstage, you let one single thought ring through your mind, positive as you are that he’s listening:

“Fuck you Lestat! The only thing you miss is my blood!”

To everyone else his face betrays no emotion, you’re used to read in between the lines with him and the twitch of his mouth tells you there’s going to be hell to pay: you’ll burn that bridge when you’ll get there, if ever, now it’s your time to be an asshole, and have fun while you’re at it.

You run into the dressing room swearing under your breath: how in the name of all is holy and sacred you forgot one of the foundation sponges here? You didn’t even use it on Lestat!

In a hurry you start rummaging through all the crap and garbage your colleagues and Molloy’s crew have left around: between your crazy work hours and the concerts dates being so close to one another, you don’t have the time to buy a new one and you find yourself hunting for this stupid one that’s finished God only knows where.

“Looking for this, ma choue?”

You turn around too fast, whipping the muscles of your neck painfully to look at Lestat, who has closed, and locked, the door behind his back and is leaning against it, pink sponge in his hand.

You know he’s fresh off the stage after the third encore, the pinkish red of perspiration is staining the dying makeup and collar of his elaborate shirt.

“I should have known you had taken it.” You growl back.

“What should a man do when he’s been ignored?” He says nonchalantly. “You left me with no choices, ma belle.”

Instinctively you start looking for a way out of the small room, knowing all too well there’s only the door, and that he stands on your pathway out of here and towards the safety of your hotel room.

“Perhaps, a man, should ask himself why he’s been ignored.”

You square your shoulders, yet your insecurity is betrayed when you start pinching the inside of your right arm, where he’s first bitten you.

The wound has healed nicely, the scar remains, too small to be truly noticed if not for the constant redness of your picking at the skin there.

You remember when he first drank from you, so many months ago when you still believed the whole ‘Vampire Lestat’ persona was just a stage play; he had looked at you with those eyes, mesmerizing, whose color you couldn’t truly name, making you feel like a lamb would in front of a hungry wolf, right before gently grabbing your uncovered arm to bite the delicate skin and drink enough blood to make you feel dizzy on your feet.

“And what did a man do?” He asks, advancing like the predator he is, as if he owns the room hell! The entire building.

You try to stand your ground, shoulders squared, legs firmly planted on the floor: the bridge is here, you might as well go down swinging.

“Oh, I don’t know, treat me like a blood bag and demean me in front of the cameras?”

Two days before your personal bombshell, he had complimented the taste of your blood, and responded a second too late, when you had bluntly asked if he looked at you like he would a steak, then the whole ‘Do I look like I need you?’ incident had happened: the proverbial icing on the cake.

To be absolutely clear, you don’t expect anything from him that is not great sex (narcissist or not, he knows how to show you a good time and not having to breathe to live helps when you’re going down someone) and a bit of consideration.

“Oh, that.” He stands in front of you, impossibly tall, cutting off any escape route. “Would you like me to apologize publicly? Perhaps in front of the crowd tomorrow?” He mocks you.

And you fall for it: hook, line and sinker.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” You growl, invading his personal space, as if you’d ever pose a threat for him.

In a second you find yourself against the wall, arms stretched over your head, your work bag on the floor.

“What would you do, ma choue, how would you stop me?”

You’re so angry you’d kill him with your mind, if only you could!

Uselessly you try to kick him, squirming in his light hold, until he’s plastered against you with your legs around his trim hips.

“Let me go, now!”

That wins you a laugh, a low rumble against your chest: he knows that you know that he loves when you fight back, that your fascination with him doesn’t stop your fiery spirit to burn bright, like a light in the darkness.

“Why would I do such a thing?” His lips leave butterfly kisses all over your pulse point. “After scheming to have you here. That would be most stupid, wouldn’t it?”

Slowly, seductively, his hips grind against yours, his erection already pushing against your core, almost forcing a wail of need from your lips: even angry you missed the liquid need pooling in your belly as soon as your bodies are near, how his touch would ignite your desire and burn any reasoning to keep him away.

“I hate you so much!” And you both know is a lie.

“Then why can I smell how ready you are for me, ma petite?”

You let your head slam against the wall, baring your neck to his fangs, now tracing a path of goosebumps leading to your collarbone and heaving breasts.

You squirm against him, not trying to evade him, but because you need him desperately: you want to tear his clothes off his body and fuck your rage and pent up desire until you are both spent on the filthy carpet of the dressing room.

The words almost leave your mouth, when knocking on the door, followed by the voice of your fellow make up artist stops you, and him.

“Are you coming or not?” She asks from the corridor. “I need to shower! Come on!”

“I’m on my way!” You shout back, your desire retreating as your brain reminds you of the way he’s been treating you.

Lestat eyes you with a smirk on his lips; for a moment you think he’ll not let you go and blow your illicit relationship for the whole crew to see. His eyes seem to shine as he stares into yours, searching, searching as you wonder, again, what color they truly are.

“Saved by the bell.” He murmurs in your ear, letting your shaky legs off from around his hips. “Off you go, ma petite lapinou. You’re not going to be as lucky the next time.”

You’re still trembling as you grab your bag and rush to your friend, cursing yourself for being so weak in your resolve.

As per your contract you, and the other two make up artists, are supposed to share the hotel room to kill the costs for the whole production; the rest of the crew does the same, while the actual band members have rooms for their own, usually in a better hotel than the one chosen for you all.

The wandering life you have all chosen has changed those plans: in fact you have the hotel room all for yourself, since one colleague is in a committed relationship with one of the sound technicians (they always crash together), the other is in a situationship with a girl from Molloy’s crew; the relationship is even more toxic than whatever you have going on with Lestat, yet the two always bunk down together.

You don’t mind having all the space, and the bathroom for yourself: you love the quiet after a concert and before you are all on the road again.

You exit the bathroom, your skin still warm after the shower. You hear the TV on in the background, not giving it much attention: it’s just white noise to keep you company as you dry your hair and decide what to wear to go out with some colleagues.

“Now, what is this?”

You screech in surprise and almost slip on your ass.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? Why are you here?! I’m naked!”

Lestat looks at you from the armchair where he’s sitting, long legs encased in skin fitting leather and a white shirt half unbuttoned to showcase the hard planes of his chest you’re trying very hard not to ogle.

“You haven’t answered my question, ma petite lapinou.”

He’s holding your Taylor Swift pink T shirt, showing it to you with a frown on his brow.

Him and Taylor, better, the respective fan bases have this crusade going on, sniping at each other: the swifties being absolutely rabid whenever one of Lestat’s songs is higher in the charts or his tours sold out faster than hers. Taylor has published another remastering of her latest album and Lestat responded with new songs that beaten her to the top: it’s an ongoing messy feud and Lestat loves throwing jabs at her and her fans in his interviews. Thank God he has no control over his X and Instagram accounts.

All of this considered, you bought it before your fallout with him, as a prank: you thought about appearing in his hotel room clad only in that to see how he would react, and reap the benefits. You deciding to withdrew from the ‘relationship’ killed that idea; you have been using it to sleep.

“It’s a T shirt.” You answer.

“That I can see.” He says reigning in his annoyance at your pretend ignorance. “I have never pegged you as a fan of mademoiselle Swift.”

“With the things you don’t know about me, you could build a ladder from here to the moon.” You shrug your shoulders, hoping he’s not snooping in your mind right now.

He throws the T shirt in the general direction of the bed and spreads his legs even more, the outline of his bulge clear against the tight fitting leather.

“Going somewhere, ma petite?”

His voice is a low rumble that goes straight to your core.

“Yeah.” You feign indifference. “Out with some people, have fun. I have decided I’m going to play drunk trick or treat.”

He’s not wearing any makeup now, he looks like a carved marble statue come to life, yet you can see curiosity etched on his beautiful, alien features.

“I am not, comment tu le dis, privy to this particular brand of trick or treating.”

You tighten the towel around your head, you’re going to need it.

“It’s pretty simple, actually. I go out, get drunk and fuck the first person I meet. Having an orgasm, finally, is going to be my treat. It has been too long.”

In a heartbeat you find yourself slammed against the wall. You should be used to his inhuman speed, yet he’s managed to knock the breath out of your lungs again.

Your ears are ringing, the towel having done a poor job at shielding your head from a hard knock against the wall: one of these days you’ll get a concussion. How fucked up is it that you’re accepting your fate so calmly?

Your vision swims as your eyes try to focus on his face, now contorted in rage: Take that asshole, you think.

“Who would be the lucky candidate, ma petite?” He growls, his hand finding home around your throat. “Perhaps one of Molloy’s subordinates? Or one of the sad men drinking themselves in an early grave in the hotel lobby?”

“Anyone would do.” You spat back, despite the pressure of his hand. “You wouldn’t know how to find my clit with two hands, a flashlight and a neon sign pointing at it!”

For a second his hold is too tight, cutting off your air supply completely: is this how you die?

The thought flies out of your head when you find yourself on the bed, coughing and trying to absorb as much air as your poor lungs can manage, Lestat between your splayed legs: you have gotten to him, to his pride and possessiveness. Revenge tastes so sweet, knowing you can slither under his skin the same way he does with you.

“Ouch!” You whine when he strips you of the towels, uncaring of the cotton burning your skin.

“Two hands, a flashlight and a neon sign, is that what you said ma belle pute?”

You try to push him away, fruitlessly: he’s far too heavy and strong for you, even if he were a human man, yet you trash under him and try to go for his eyes, like a cat, until two of his long fingers pinch your clit cruelly.

You cry out in pain, arching under him in the vain attempt to escape your punishment.

“I hate you so fucking much! I wish I could put a stake through your heart and see you die!”

He doesn’t move for a second; he truly seems a marble statue, Bernini’s masterpiece, betrayed by the shining of his eyes.

You scream when his fangs pierce the delicate skin of your neck, and his cock slams into you.

The pleasure is a wave that engulfs you and your senses. You don’t know where you are, who you are, you’re only feeling his heart beating to the rhythm of yours as his hips meet yours, again and again, fast and hungry in the desperate pursuit of his own end.

You can’t plant your feet on the mattress, too taken by the impossible high you’re experiencing, all of your senses drunk on him and on the pleasure burning through you, the tight band in your belly snapping, forcing another scream from your lips.

You whine when his fangs leave your neck.

Through the roaring of your own blood in your ears, you can ear his moans of pleasure when the pain of your nails in his back finally register in his brain. Through hooded eyes you look at his beautiful face, now marred by the red of your blood, his pupils so enlarged you can’t see the color of the iris.

He’s still hard inside of you, not pounding away anymore his hips have taken a sensual, slow rhythm, meant to savor the warmth your body provides.

He kisses you when you try to say his name, your taste, metallic and heady in your mouth, pushes you into a frenzy he doesn’t let you follow, forcing you to go slow and feel the way he owns your body.

You arch your spine when he starts kissing your neck and chest, unhurried and possessive, his cockhead finding your G spot to bully it again, to feel your walls clamp again around his erection, too slow to throw you into the throes of another orgasm but enough to keep you on the razor’s edge, your moans and keens music to his ears.

You buck under his weight when his skilled fingers find your center again, massaging your bud with slow, deliberate motions.

“Two hands.” He groans after a vicious push. “A flashlight and a neon sign, n'est-ce pas? Then why are you moaning, ma belle?”

You grab his arms, needy and desperate for the end he’s denying you, embarrassed by the squelching sounds your cunt makes around his cock.

“Anyone would do.” He spats in your face, pinching your clit cruelly, to enjoy your whines of pain and how your body squirms under his.

You want to beg for mercy, scream how sorry you are but his devious fingers have rendered you speechless and thoughtless, mad for an orgasm he’s denying you with a cruel smile.

His forehead meets yours, now that the pace is slow. He’s switched to French without truly realizing what he’s doing, too lost in feeling your muscles clench and massage his cock: he’s missed your body, something you must never know.

His tongue finds the bites on your neck, licking lazily at the blood still spilling as his hips pick up the pace again, grinding cruelly against your puffy clit, drunken words of appreciation fall from his lips when your cunt wounds so tightly around his cock, forcing him in deeper and deeper, the fullness blanking your mind to his words and to the world around you.

You shatter like crystal again, forcing him over the edge as well, your combined screams of pleasure reverberating against the cheap walls, his breaking the table lamp on the desk.

Your cunt milks him of all he can give and robs him of his strength; it’s a miracle he manages to pull out and fall by your side, unfocused eyes trained on the chipped ceiling.

You hear him stretch luxuriously next to you as you try to find the strength to go to the bathroom and deal with the mess of blood and semen he’s left on your body.

Your legs wobble when you stand and the room spins as you bend to retrieve your Taylor Swift T shirt fallen on the floor, after your ‘activities’; you hear him say something in French, his voice a low purr and you can feel his eyes trained on your naked arse.

“Shall I remind you I have taken Spanish in high school?” You say, wobbling to the bathroom as you feel his come slide down your legs, ignoring how he grabs his shirt to wipe the excess of blood on his face.

When you come back he’s still laying in bed, smoking, arms spread on the headboard as if he owns the place.

“This place is horrible.” He says, as if you had chosen it yourself. “Sincèrement affreux."

“Your tour manager picks the place for us, which means that you did.” You retort, sliding in bed to put your head on his naked shoulder. “This one isn’t so bad. The clown themed one was worse.”

“Clown themed?”

He wants to know more, but you’re already asleep, out like a light; he can hear the whooshing of your blood through your veins, now that your heartbeat has calmed into your usual tattoo.

Without waking you up, he kills his smoke and tries to make himself comfortable on the lumpy mattress: perhaps that’s why you have been in such a bad mood lately. He will look into it as soon as he wakes up from his slumber: he’s going to be famished and his tour managed looks delicious.

[gregrulzok]

Devil's Minion is an interesting title though, isn't it.

I mean one of them is a creature designed and all but required to kill. He could eat animals, technically, but we know that isn't sustainable long term - even Louis, who genuinely tried it, wanted it so bad, couldn't keep the diet up for long. That's just not sustainable for their bodies, not what they were made for.

And the many long centuries of isolation, many long centuries of being unable to go out during the day, to talk to people without raising suspicion - and the changing of times, watching the culture shift and drift away from you without being able to fully follow it... Anyone would be distant from humans, from humanity, it's a shift in the psyche supported from every angle to make you view people as prey rather than equals.

And then the other? Human. A guy. He had relatives, friends, probably. He's more than likely lost people before, knows the grief of death far more intimately than a being designed to take two or three lives in a day ever could.

And yet, night after night, he holds the hunter in his arms. Cuddles up to him, ignores the fact that any warmth in his lover cost another human being their life. He ignores the pain and suffering they went through despite being fully equipped to understand it, ignores the grief and heartache he knows their close ones must be feeling - more than that, he takes pleasure in it! He drinks the blood of the monster, for no reason other than his own pleasure, and he tastes in it the wails and screams and desperation of those that were killed for it, and he's addicted to it. He wants more. He craves it, needs it.

More than THAT, even, he wants nothing more than to be part of it. To have the power to take human lives, to be the same as the alleged devil. Armand had no choice in the matter, not really, and has no choice but to kill - Daniel wants it, more than anything, he's constantly preoccupied with it, begs for it over and over and over.

.

And on the other hand, it's Daniel who gets his wishes granted. Daniel who can point at anything he wants and have it in his possession the next moment. Sure, he has to follow Armand's whims and impulses, teach Armand, follow him everywhere, but at the end of the day Armand is serving Daniel as much as he is himself, if not more.

And it's Armand who has to, through arguments and tears and heartache, defend what he sees as the one boundary he set in the relationship. The one line he has begged Daniel over and over again not to try to cross, Daniel has to test again and again.

He'll do anything for Daniel, anything, except for the one thing that would hurt him most - and its still not enough.

...

Devil's Minion, huh.

[cosyvelvetorchid]

After watching a romcom with Tommy (who mentions offhand that nobody has ever romanced him like that), Buck activates his inner romantic (ie Season1Boyfriend!Buck) with one mission in mind: to completely and utterly sweep Tommy off his feet.

Tommy is this cool, confident and unflappable guy 24/7, and Buck has this need to see him blush.

Flowers, a candlelit meal, slowdancing in the moonlight. The whole shebang, and Tommy melts.

Im so sorry that this took an absolute age to get to! Lots of stuff going on and illness blah blah blah ANYWAY! Here it is, I hope you like it.

As Always if you have a bucktommy or saltommy prompt send to my ask box. Smut, fluff, whump.. whatever you want

🩶

********

RATING: T

TW: 1 use of the f-slur

WORDS: 2,432

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Buck knew that Tommy loved a romcom. He liked lots of genres of movies, and all for different reasons. But romcoms he loved because of the fantasy of them. He’d told Buck once that growing up with a father like his, and then spending the majority of his adult years firmly tucked away in the closet, that he’d wholeheartedly believed that a true love or romance was not in his own future. That living vicariously through two people on screen, even if they were straight, was the closest thing he’d get to a happy ending.

He’d very much changed his mind since he’d met his Evan, but still Buck had been determined to give him all the romantic moments he’d missed out on over his life.

It started with surprising Tommy with a candle lit dinner ready when he came home from work.. Which ended with Buck being bent over the table as dessert. Not quite the emotional response he was going for, but hey who was he to say no to that!

Tommy mentioned once a book he loved as kid and Buck spent three weeks hunting down a first edition. He was certainly blown away by Bucks thoughtfulness and showed him immediately by getting on his knees. Again Buck was happy to oblige - he always was - but it still wasn’t the response he was truly hoping for.

He wanted to sweep Tommy entirely off his feet. Woo him to the point of breathlessness. Make him feel so unbelievably cherished and loved that he forgets out to speak.

And then the idea hit him.

Oddly, while watching Carrie.

“Man, the worst thing that happened at our senior prom was Mikey Jacobs spiking the punch. I still can’t drink Jack Daniels” Buck reminisced.

“Better than pigs blood, babe. Or, you know, the revenge by telekinesis.”

“True. What about you? What was yours like?”

Tommy sighed. “I, uh, didn’t go to mine.”

“Really?” Buck looked at him in surprise. “I mean granted you were secretly gay, but I know the girls would have been killing each other to get the Tommy Kinard to take them to prom.” The idea seemed to bring such joy to his Evans face that Tommy almost didn’t want to admit the reality.

“I appreciate the support, babe, but I wasn’t exactly drowning in dates with girls.” He laughed “I was 6’2” by the time I was 15 but I didn’t know how to build muscle or even eat right for my body’s needs. I went from 5’8” and over weight to 6’2” and skinny, which my dad just loved to point out constantly. I was super insecure and had zero confidence to ask a a girl out.” A look of sadness flickered across his face.

“Did people not go stag at your school?”

Tommy huffed a cold laugh. “Only fags and virgins go stag to a prom, Thomas.” He mimicked his father’s voice. Buck gently rubbed Tommys arm.

“I’m sorry you had to hear shit like that from your dad. You deserved so much better than that.”

“I know that now and mostly because of you.” He pressed a chaste kiss to Bucks lips and smiled.

“Good.” He smiled back, already formulating his next plan to woo the shit out of his boyfriend.

This one took a few weeks of planning but Buck was certain it would knock Tommys socks off.

Tommy was surprised that Lucy had suddenly turned up at Harbour on what was supposed to be her day off. Even more surprised when she offered, nay - insisted - that she take Tommys remaining 24 hours of his 48 hours shift.

In the end their Captain had to practically shove him out of the harbour doors to get him out. He eventually relented and left for home.

Approaching their front door he noticed a note in handwriting so bad it had to be Bucks. God did he love him but the man’s penmanship looked like a doctor’s. A drunk doctor’s. Wearing a plaster cast. Thankfully after almost a year together he’d learned how to decipher Evans scribbles.

“Go straight upstairs.

Shower and get dressed..”

“Huh?”

“Don’t “huh” me, Kinard. Just do it. Then meet me in the dining room.

P.s: love you, Your Evan.”

Tommy chuckled to himself but did as he was asked and walked straight up the stairs to their bedroom. He was surprised, and confused, to see his tux freshly pressed and laid out on their bed.

After showering and dressing he made his way back down found himself knocking on his own dining room door for permission to enter.

“Come in.” Evans voice called from inside.

Tommy opened the door his mouth and eyes opened wide at what he saw.

The table had been pushed to the side wall, with a black cloth draped over the top, atop of which was a punch bowl filled with an orangey pink liquid. Surrounding it was lots of bowls filled with candy and chips and other kids favourite snacks.

A shiny disco ball hung from the ceiling with paper decorations swinging from the Center of the room and up to the corners. Twinkling lights hung all around giving the room a gorgeous warm glow.

And standing in the centre of the dining room, under the disco ball, in a tux that fit him so fucking perfectly was the most beautiful man Tommy had ever seen.

“What’s.. what’s going on?” Tommy asked not being able to hide his smile.

Evan took a few steps toward him and held out his hand. “Thomas Kinard. Will you go to prom with me?” Every time Tommy thinks he can’t fall in love with Evan any more, he’s proven wrong.

For the next two hours they do nothing but dance like idiots, drink spiked punch (tequila instead of Jack Daniel’s this time - buck would actually like to remember this prom), and snack on junk food.

Tommy couldn’t remember the last time he had let loose like this. Or even smiled this hard. Evan was by far the greatest joy to ever come into his life. He reminded Tommy of what fun was, what joy was and what it felt like to be truly unashamedly himself - something that nobody had ever made him felt safe enough to truly be.

Buck knew he’d achieved his task of sweeping Tommy off his feet tonight already, but there was one more thing he decided, last minute, that he was going to do.

Buck picked up his phone and searched for the perfect song, settling on Songbird by Eva Cassidy because it was on the soundtrack to Tommy’s favourite movie Love, Actually. He didn’t even need to do anything because as soon as the opening bars played through the speaker Tommy instantly knew what it was and pulled Buck into a slow dance.

They swayed slowly and silently for a few moments just breathing in the perfect moment with each other with Tommys arms wrapped around Bucks waist and Bucks arms around his neck.

“So, not that I’m complaining, babe, what with all the romancing lately?” Tommy asked.

“You deserve it.” Was Bucks simply reply. Tommy looked at him with a mixture of adoration with a hint of confusion. “You go out of your way to show me how much you love me and to do all these sweet and romantic things for me, but you deserve them too. You deserve to be shown how much you mean to me also.” Tommy was looking at him with those eyes again - the big bright ones Buck first saw right before Tommy had kissed him for the first time - and he had to use every bit of strength to hold back from jumping him, because he needed to say this before his courage disappeared.

“I see how you look at these little moments in the romcoms you love and I hate that you never got to experience them, so I wanted you to have some of them of your own. Our own.

“Plus, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to tell you just how much I love you. To tell you how unbelievably happy that you walked, well, flew into my life. To tell you that I have never in all of my life thought that I deserved to have someone so beautiful and kind and wonderful and just fucking incredible as you. And.. and to ask you to marry me.”

Tommy blinked. Did he hear that correctly?

“Wh-what?”

“I know, it’s.. we’ve not even been together a full year yet, and full disclosure I didn’t even know I was going to ask until like 10 minutes ago so I don’t have a ring, and-“ Tommy grabbed Buck either side of his neck and pressed his lips firmly against his. When Tommy pulled back his cheeks were wet with tears cascading over his beautiful lower lashes. Finally, Buck thought.

“Hold that thought.” He said simply before quickly leaving the room. He took 2 steps at a time as he hurtled upstairs, before running back down seconds later back to Buck still stood in the center of the dining room.

He lifted up his palm on top of which was a dark blue velvet box, opened, with 2 tarnished silver bands of differing sizes, each with a shiny silver strip running around the centre of each of them.

“You bought.. how long have you..” Buck could barely get the words out. His eyes kept flicking between Tommys beautiful face and the rings in his hand.

“About a month. Well, I ordered them custom made about 2 months ago but I’ve had them for a month.”

“Custom?” Was all Buck could get out.

Tommy pointed to the shiny part of the rings. “A couple of years ago I had this rescue and the husband of the woman we were life flighting was telling us about how they met. Anyway, he said that his family had this tradition of putting something sentimental in the band to give to your partner as.. sort of as a piece of you.

You know that piece of metal that sits on my desk in the study?”

“Y-yeah. It’s part of the blade from the first chopper you flew when you transferred to harbour.”

“Right. Well, it now has a little chunk missing.” He laughed. “Transferring to the 217 was the first piece of me finally becoming who I always wanted to be. You’re the last piece, Evan.”

Buck had this whole night planned - minus is own spontaneous proposal - and had wanted Tommy to be the feeling pleasantly surprised and loved.. yet here he was himself being loved so fucking beautifully it was taking everything within him to not break apart right there.

“What’s-what’s in your ring?” He asked.

“Well, that was.. a little trickier. And full disclosure on my part - Maddie knows because I had to enlist her help.”

“Okay..”

“It’s kinda difficult to pick something when your boyfriend loves so many things,” he teased “and then Maddie.. she gave me a little silver bracelet that she was given as a kid and-“

Buck inhaled a breath when he realised what bracelet Tommy was referring to. Immediately his whole chin began to quiver and tears fell from his eyes.

“The one that Daniel gave to her.”

“Yeah.” Tommy said softly. “She told me how he’d seen it one day when he was with your grandparents when he was 6 or something and insisted he give to her for her birthday.” Buck nodded, not being able to find words. “She said that this would be something that would be special to you because you never got to know him. Is-is that okay?”

Buck looked from the ring back to up Tommy; eyes completely blurred from tears pouring out of him.

“I.. this..” He could always find peace in Tommy eyes but this was all so.. it was overwhelming and.. he took a deep breath to try and calm himself.

“Tommy, this whole night was-was supposed to be about you.. a-and showing you just how much to mean to me and then..” he blew out another breath trying to center himself “and then here you are with the most beautiful fucking gesture, I.. I can’t..” The tears flowed once again and this time he threw his arms around Tommys neck and held on tight. Tommy, as he always did, reciprocated and held him tightly back.

“I love you so fucking much.” He cried into Tommys neck. Tommys own tears were flowing too, now.

“God I love you, too, Evan. More than I could ever even show you.”

“I don’t know-“ Buck pulled back with a laugh “I think you hit it out of the ball park with this one.” He gently thumbed Tommys tears from his cheeks. He looked closer at the rings.

“Are there inscriptions?”

“Only on yours.” Tommy replied, sniffing.

“For my Evan. Always.” Buck read out loud. Tommy wiped away Bucks next tears that came. They were the only type of tears he ever wanted to illicit from his Evan.

“I thought you would what to decide what to inscribe on my ring. Can I put it on you now?” Tommy asked.

“Uh, technically I should be putting on you because I asked first. Actually, you haven’t actually said yes by the way..”

Tommy reached up an gently placed back an errant curl that had fallen onto Bucks forehead and looked at him with those big earnest eyes again.

“Yes.”

Buck took the ring out of the box and slid it onto Tommy finger, then Tommy did the same with Bucks ring.

Buck gripped the lapels of Tommys tux and pulled him into a kiss. They both sighed into it. It wasn’t a kiss that they’d shared before; this one was full of promise, of hope, a future - the rest of their lives as husbands.

Tommy pulled back for a second “By the way, I did promise Maddie that the second we became engaged that we would face time her. Where’s your phone?”

“She can wait a little bit.” Buck replied aiming his lips at Tommys neck.

“You sure? She might be mad.” Buck lifted up and looked Tommy in the eyes.

“Tommy, there’s only one thing I want to do right now and it absolutely does not involve my sister.”

“She can wait a little bit.” Tommy repeated wrapping his arms around his Evans neck and pulling him in for another deep kiss.

[pia-nor481]

She…What? Part Seven

Oscar Piastri, Daniel Ricciardo, Lando Norris x reader

Oscar admits to her that he’s not particularly experienced in the world of sex, yet he doesn’t feel as ashamed about it as he expected. Lando and Daniel have their usual hotel chat in which Lando reminds his friends of his impeding bedtime. Although the Australian would rather spend an evening with her

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She pulled back slightly, remaining in his lap. "What do you mean, Oscar?" She whispered, eyes wide as her hands slid up his arms slowly. "I'm not really experienced with this kind of thing." The Australian's eyes were closed, hiding his embarrassment. "Ever? Or in terms of a contract relationship?" She questioned with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. Oscar's hands would have made dents in her skin if he was training any harder. "Well I've done some stuff. Just not all the way." A blush rose to his cheeks as she was finally able to see his eyes. 

She slowly moved behind Oscar, wrapping her arms around his neck. "That's okay. Usually I'd be a bit of a tease and and walk away from you right now, leave you high and dry. But I don't have to tease you too much." She giggled resting her chin on top of his head, making his hair impossibly messier. "There's no need to be mean." He pouted, crossing his arms over his chest in disgust. "Hey. I'm not trying to be mean." She gasped in false offence, squeezing his arms playfully. "I'm just informing you of what you're getting involved with." She smiled, pulling away and standing up. "Then we can just talk for a while. Perhaps we can get to know each other better in that time, more than that you're a voyeur." She giggled, taking a small sip of wine, lifting the bottle up slightly. "I don't drink wine." Oscar started, getting up from the bed. "I can only have hard liquor, otherwise my trainer will complain." He finished, reaching for the bottle of whisky. "So you don't drink beer or cider either. Just the the stuff that will get you drunk quicker?" She asked in disbelief. 

Oscar shook his head before speaking. "I hardly drink actually." He turned watching her slowly drink the red liquid, not once looking away from him. "That's going to change soon. Not just because you're winning races now." She smiled, moving through the room gracefully, noticing Oscar's lingering gaze. "You can speak you're mind, I wont judge you." He was finally pulled out of his gaze by her words. "I'm just taken aback." Oscar's filter slowly dissolving after a few sips of the drink. "You're gorgeous." He whispered once he was closer, reaching out to brush his fingers over her face.

Oscar was shocked with how forward he was being, yet he felt so draw in, and he didn't want to be let go. "How sweet of you Oscar." She smiled, pulling him in close, waiting for his reaction. The Australian could feel the blood pumping harshly through his body as his hands came up to cup her cheeks. He groaned quietly, finally feeling his lips against her, the level of relief he felt was unprecedented. Oscar pushed her down slowly, feeling his knee slip between her legs. He didn't know what came over him in that moment, his neurons were clearly delayed to his central nervous system. Oscar pulled back with a quiet 'sorry' before moving to the end of the bed, annoyed with himself, he wasn't one to wear his emotions on his sleeve and so sat there with a straight face, battling his thoughts. "Oscar." She repeated, trying to pull him out of the trance. "I know we said we would only talk, but that doesn't mean I'm upset with you." She reasoned, reaching for his drink and taking a small sip. He raised an eyebrow at her action but didn't move to stop her, if anything he wanted her to continue. He wanted her to completely consume him. 

"What did you want to talk about?" Oscar struggled to get out, his nerves coming through. "What you like, what you want. Anything." She brought the whiskey up to his lips, waiting for him to finish the glass. He was definitely out of his depth here, almost alarmingly so. But Oscar would do anything she asked. "Okay then...I want to know more about how this relationship works, at least in your words." Oscar was always straight to the point she soon came to realise. "Well, it's really whatever you want it to be." She brought her hand up to his hair, running her fingers through the messy strands. "So what is it to Daniel and Lando?" He questioned, focusing on her lips, mainly the colour of the gloss. "You may have to ask them. But from my point of view it feels almost like friends with benefits, at least in a way. It's difficult to describe. But I've know Daniel much longer than Lando so it's a little bit different."

"In what way?" Oscar quizzed, he was clearly a person who liked research. "I suppose it's a bit more romantic with Daniel, at least in a way. He sorts out hotels, flights, holidays and so on. He's much more involved in my personal life than Lando. Not that either of them mind, it's what they want." Oscar was slightly overwhelmed with the information being fed to him, some was left up to his interpretation. "And if i wanted to be more involved with your personal life?" Oscar's eyes fell to his lap momentarily, as if he was preparing himself for the worst. "If that's what you want, then yes." A weight was lifted from the Australian's shoulders and a small smile adorned his face.

A small sigh escaped Oscar's lips before he spoke. "Okay, then how does this work logistically?" She stood up slowly, walking towards the open bottle of wine. "It depends, we all have to talk about certain things, but mostly just call or text me and we go from there. If I'm honest i wouldn't suggest waltzing into this, or any, hotel room. Then again, you like that so." She shrugged her shoulders. "I'm never hearing the end of that, am I?" She giggled and shook her head turning back towards him. "So, what do you like, or at least what do you want to try?" A wave of worry washed over him when her words finally registered, too focused on the way the robe presented her tits. "If I'm being completely honest, I've only done oral, both giving and receiving, but not a whole lot. So I'm not very good at it." Oscar's shame was apparent, he didn't think that he should be as inexperienced as he was, especially at his age. "That's not world ending, you can learn, you can experiment and find out what you like too. There's nothing wrong with that." She tried reassuring him, rubbing her hands over his arms softly. "I don't really know what I want to try." 

At the same time, in Lando's hotel room, Daniel and Lando were discussing the ins and outs of the current relationship. "So, how do you feel about Oscar?" Lando questioned, jumping onto the bed in a childlike manner. "He's alright, we've had a proper chat so, I think it's all good now." Daniel started before placing himself on the end of the bed. "I was being bitter, he wanted the seat and he was concerned about me before signing so it's alright. I think if i drove that third year at McLaren it would have been a career ender for me, I don't even think RB would have me. So maybe Oscar signing was good for me. I don't know." Daniel trailed off looking at the ceiling, this was the first time he'd said such a thing out loud, and it felt good. "And how do you think he's gonna handle her?" Lando continued, rolling onto his stomach. "I think he'll be okay. She won't be as hard on him. She know's he wont be able to handle that level of teasing, I made sure of that." Daniel smirked, turning to see Lando's face. 

"Oh really, it only took a few days to end her teasing."  Lando stated, looking up as if he was imagining the first time he was with her. "You had it easy. Seven months of back and forth flirting before I even had the chance to go out with her. Trust me, you're lucky." The Australian confirmed, pulling his jumper off. "So what? Oscar's gonna get her tomorrow?" Daniel laughed at his friend almost mockingly. "Oh no. She'll make him wait, tease Oscar enough to have him begging for her. It's what she does well. You know that. You just broke before I did." Daniel pulled his phone out of his pocket quickly, looking at the messages she had sent him. "That's not very nice." Lando's hand came up to his heart, clenching the shirt, trying to feign offence. "Don't be dramatic. The amount of times I got blue balls was unreal." Daniel sighed, shaking his head at the painful thought. "I didn't need to know that." Lando groaned, running his fingers through his hair. "Oh please, you've heard worse." He rolled his eyes, locking his phone and sliding it back into his pocket. "Going to bed? That's good, you don't need RB to give you a bedtime." Lando joked, lifting his head up. "No actually, I know what toys she brought so..." Daniel smirked, closing the door before he left. 

Daniel hummed while walking through the hallway of the hotel, looking for room 609. He knocked loudly, excited to see her. "Hey Darling." He said in a husky voice, leaning against the doorframe. "Smooth." She laughed, pulling him into the room by the collar of his shirt. "So what did you learn?" Daniel's excitement was radiating from him as he walked towards her suitcase. "A few things, mostly that he's not that experienced." She stated, climbing on the bed, looking over at Daniel, who seemed to be in a very difficult internal debate. "Of course, both me and Lando are sluts. How could I forget." Daniel joked, walking back towards the bed. "You've got qualifying tomorrow, you need rest." She reasoned. Daniel had spent so much time and effort getting back into the sport, and she didn't want to be the reason he couldn't get a top seat. "It's fine Darling, it's not even late." Daniel emphasise his point by showing her his watch. She rolled her eyes playfully, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I can't believe you. Lando really is blind." Daniel laughed, stripping of his clothes. "You know I had to explain to him how long you were teasing me for. He didn't believe it." She stood up, slowly undoing the belt of the robe, letting it fall to the ground slowly, revealing lace underwear. She bent over slightly, reaching for the waistband before Daniel spoke. "I don't think so. Come here." He lifted his hand up, pulling her down. "And you complain about me teasing." She joked, reaching up to tug on his hair lightly. "Don't start with me, not tonight. And you were the one complaining about sleep, look at you now." Daniel hands came to rest behind her knees and he shifted his body slightly. His right hand traveled from her knee up to her thing, feather light touches teasing her. His fingers danced over her skin and his eyes shifted up, looking for a reaction. "Daniel." She scolded. "Oh government name. I really must be in trouble." Daniel's hands finally made it to her pelvis, toying with the lace before tugging on the waistband. Soon the sound of vibrating met her ears. "Danny." Her gasp bounced off the walls as her hands grasped the bedsheets. "Careful. Don't want Oscar to hear." Daniel's playful tone didn't go unnoticed. Daniel pressed the red vibrator onto her clit harshly, enjoying the look on her face. Daniel lifted the toy away from her before placing in back, teasing as much as he could. "That's it." He whispered, lifting her leg up higher, needing to get closer. She could feel the vibrations coursing through her whole body, sending goosebumps up her arms and pulling quiet moans form her lips. "Stop teasing me Danny." She spoke though gasps, eyes wide open, noticing the smirk adorning his face. "Oh but you like teasing" 

Daniel was quick to push the lace to the side and line his cock up with her cunt, rubbing the tip over her clit lightly. "Always making me wait. Lucky I don't do the same to you." He uttered, slowly pushing his cock in, inch by inch. Her legs wrapped around Daniel's waist quicky, pulling him in closer. "That's it." She whispered as Daniel began to rock his hips, slowly to start, before he connected their lips. There was a level of almost unknown passion, almost as if she had manifested it. They both knew that there was a romantic aspect to their relationship, but even now, they were surprised. Daniel's hands didn't move from her skin. He wanted to be close to her, he didn't want her to ever leave him, he needed her with him. Daniel's groans and grunts filled the room as he got closer, her voice only edging him closer. "So close, Darling." The Australian gasps, pushing into her cunt fast, desperate to finish. "Gonna cum. Fuck." Daniel painted her stomach white with a loud groan, his head fell into the curve of her neck, panting loudly.

"So good to me, Darling." Daniel whispered into her skin, although those were the only coherent words the only ones she could understand. She threaded her hands through his hair, playing with his curls. "So pretty." The Australian had is eyes closed, thinking about their time together, from when they first met to six months ago. He focused on her, no matter if they were in a hotel or a beach, it was all her.

They laid on the bed in comfortable silence, just enjoying the feeling of each other. "We can shower in the morning, I just want to stay here." She whispered, pulling Daniel impossibly closer. He nodded into her skin before speaking, "Come here...Just want to stay with you." They shifted so they were covered with the quilt, Daniel's arms circled her middle, keeping her close. "What's the plan for tomorrow then?" She asked, looking up at Daniel with a sweet smile. "We'll go get some food and take a nice track walk before free practice." She nodded wordlessly, resting her head on his chest. Darkness filled the room as her eyes closed, feeling Daniel's fingers draw shapes mindlessly on her back. Just as sleep began to overtake her she felt Daniel kiss her cheek before she heard his words. "I love you, Darling."

[cowpokeomens]

Blood Born

Hi hello! Sorry I disappeared, life has just been happening lately no matter how much I tell it not to. Anyways, below the cut you'll find Noah Sebastian with a mysterious secret doin the nasty bc I'm nothing if not a monster fucker.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, mentions of weapons, dirty nasty p-in-v smut, Noah's monster cock (canon), praise kink, there's some biting too. I think that's everything but I'm really tired so if I missed something, let me know! Enjoy!

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New Orleans had always been one of Noah’s favorite cities.

He’d been partial to the French, anyway. Liked the way they baked absurd little confections, the way they fucked without remorse- the way they’d put each other’s head on a pike just to get a leg up in court. He’d been fortunate enough to be endowed with a pretty face, and there were few things the French liked more than that. 

Which is where he found himself now, walking through the French Quarter, looking for dinner. There were approximately a million restaurants with old signs beckoning him inside, but Noah had lost a taste for that kind of food long before he stepped foot in this city. 

He smelled you before he saw you. 

It was the off season, if such a thing existed for a city like this. You were bundled up in a jacket, hurrying through the streets. It was chilly, even for this time of year, the wind making its way through your hair to whip in every direction. That must have been what blew your scent his way, the intoxicating scent of jasmine and an uninterrupted heart beat almost making him stiffen up where he stood, across the street from you. He mourned your scent as you ducked into a building, trying to escape the chill. You didn’t reek of alcohol the way most people in this area did- if he had to guess, he’d say you probably hadn’t had anything stronger than a glass of wine tonight. The thought of how that would taste had him darting across the nearly empty street to follow you into the building quickly.

He didn’t get a good meal often. The drunken strangers he usually managed to entice sated him in the way a pint of blueberries would satisfy a black bear. It was hard to find a sober person who would let you bite them, and the ones who did come along were, well, strange to say the least. As if he had any moral high ground. 

The inside of the building was warm, dimly lit. He spotted you immediately, in a far corner by the bar, alone. 

Blessed be to the old gods and the new. He thought to himself. He wouldn’t even have to lure you away from a group. He could easily seduce an individual, but multiples were hard when he was hungry. 

He made his way over to where you sat, sitting around the corner so he could face you, but not be in your personal space. “Whiskey neat, please.” The bartender nodded once, pouring something foul and cheap-smelling into a glass with an ice cube. Noah fought back a grimace at the stench. 

“Oh, come on, Remy, don’t give him the fucking Jack Daniel’s.” A voice called next to him. “If you want to cheap out, do Crown. Who the hell voluntarily drinks Jack?”

Noah slowly turned his head to where you sat, frowning at the bartender, who was rolling his eyes in return. He did remake Noah’s drink though, with something decidedly more palatable. 

As he sat the drink down and walked to another patron, Noah turned to you. “Thank you. I was having a difficult time coping with the thought of that on my palate.”

You flashed him a grin. Briefly, he wondered what it would feel like to breathe again. 

“No worries. Remy likes to give the tourists the bottom shelf shit, but you seem like the sort of guy who knows his whiskey.” You took a small sip of your wine, something deeply red that made Noah shift in his seat ever so slightly. 

He inhaled once. “Grenache?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You know your wines, too. How could you tell?”

He shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. “Lucky guess.”

You cocked your head to the side curiously. “I’ve never seen you here before.”

“I’ve never been here before.” Noah responded, emotionless.

“January is an odd time to visit for someone who’s never been here before.” You prodded further.

Noah couldn’t fight the smirk on his face. “Must you always play with your food?” Jolly had sighed once. “Maybe if I had a better tour guide, I would know that.”

He turns to look at you know, registers every emotion that crosses your face. Your pupils widen noticeably, your back going a little straighter. You were making this too easy for him. 

“You’re in luck, I happen to know a gal.” You’re beaming at him- a sweet, lopsided grin as you take a gulp of your wine and introduce yourself. Noah watches the movement of your throat as you do so, responding with his own name. He takes a moment to drink you in. 

Your jacket is gone now, but you’re still wearing a sweatshirt for a school he’s never heard of (Which, to be fair, is most of them.) Dark jeans cling to your legs where they sway idly from the barstool, your feet not touching the ground. Your hair has been pulled away from your face, but a few wisps escape and kiss the sides of your cheeks. He realizes, almost startled, that you’re beautiful. 

A dignified kind of beautiful, not the otherworldliness that his kind manages. He knows he’s attractive, but it’s the same kind of beauty that humans see in tigers, snakes-  A warning sign, a mark of predation. The kind of beauty you admire from the other side of bullet proof glass. 

You, though- you’re so warm. He can feel your warmth, even from over here. It transcends physicality; Warmth that is visceral, in your eyes and your lips and the scrunch of your nose reacting to the cold. 

“Hey, you okay?” Your soft voice shakes him out of his thoughts. “You looked sad.”

His eyes lock with yours, finding such human concern that if he could have wept, he would. You looked like you cared for people. He had not been cared for in a very long time. 

“Yes, sorry. Zoned out for a second there.” He quickly finished off his drink. “I would love to take you up on that offer, though. It would be nice to see the city from a local’s perspective.”

He was a dirty liar. He knew the earth of this place before the French could even see it from their ships. It was wild then, and wild now- though in different ways. He could see the old wild in the eyes of workers practicing their vaudou and the shadows that lingered at the edge of the swamps surrounding the city. It beckoned, a siren’s call out to the murky depths of the region. Colonizers said they “settled” the territory, but everyone old enough to remember knows that lands like that don’t settle. 

He supposed he was, in some ways, a marriage of those wilds. He remembered the things that lurked in the shadows… and now he was the thing lurking in that same darkness, however many lifetimes later.

“You know,” You interrupted his thoughts again, grabbing your coat in the process, “You get this really old-and-wise look on your face when you zone out. Are you thinking about war crimes, or mac ‘n cheese?”

He smiled despite himself. “Mac ‘n cheese.” 

You blinded him briefly with a smile in return. He knew instantly that he would regret this, but followed you out the bar nonetheless, throwing a bill onto the counter without looking back. 

You walked alongside each other in companionable silence until you spoke up. 

“So, what brings you to the city alone?”

Noah smirked at the ground. You didn’t even try to disguise your inquiries. It was refreshing.

“I was supposed to be visiting friends, but they’re not here anymore.” It wasn’t a lie- not the truth, but certainly not a lie. 

You frowned. “You didn’t think to check that your friends lived here still before you came?” 

Noah shook his head. “I was actually just passing through- decided to stay a few days.”

You nodded, as if his non-answers made any sense. It reminded him of how he would nod at the eloquent words of his elders when he was a child, like pretending he was wiser than he was would somehow allow the wisdom to materialize out of sheer will. A thought occurred to him. “How old are you?”

“Oh, I’m 25.” You responded, turning to cast a glance up at him. “You?”

He found he didn’t want to lie to you. “Older than you.” Was the answer he settled on. 

You snorted, surprising him. He raised an eyebrow in question. 

“Come on man, that’s like, the most ‘Guy Older Than 27’ thing to say.” You rolled your eyes at him. He couldn’t remember the last time someone rolled their eyes at him. 

He grinned anyway, not looking at you. “Fair enough. I am older than 27.”

You gave him a sidelong glance. “Why so cryptic? Scared I’ll send you back to the nursing home you escaped from-”

You were cut off as he crowded you up against a wall, staring down his nose at you, arms on either side of your head. “You’re kind of mouthy, you know that?”

“Then shut me up.” Your words were rushed, like they escaped before you could think them over properly. He hesitated for only a second, then leaned in to kiss you. 

You bloomed like a flower in spring for him, lips parting in a gasp, chest heaving as color rushed to your cheeks. He felt drunk as his tongue traced your lip, hands coming down to grasp your hips. You parted after only a few moments, breath ragged. 

“I live about a block from here.” Your intentions were not lost on him. 

He took a step back, gesturing for you to lead the way. You finished your nighttime stroll soon after, quickly pulling out your keys to unlock your front door.

Noah pauses at the door. Some of the superstitions were all too true. You turn around to face him, framed by the light of your entryway. 

“Well, come in then. It’s cold.” You urge him, holding the door open. He lets out a breath he didn’t need.

He follows you inside to the warm interior. He’s taking in your interior decoration choices when you pounce, pulling him to your mouth. He happily obliges, deepening the kiss and wrapping an arm around your back. He felt your hands come up to his chest, pushing him away. 

“Did you want to stop-” He began, until you interrupted him. 

“No, but thanks. I’m just trying to get us to a flat surface that isn’t my hardwood floors.” You gave him a sly smile, taking him by the hand and tugging him through the house. 

His eyes could see in pitch black, but he was still thoroughly impressed by how you could navigate in the dim light. You must have lived here for a while.

You flung open a door with ease, still pulling him behind you. He could see the bed as you shoved him onto it, crawling on top of him. He was grinning as you leaned in to kiss him again-

Then you stopped. 

He suddenly realized, not reacting quickly enough as you scrambled off him and flipped on the lights.

“Your teeth-” You began, then froze as you took in the sight of him. He already knew what you were seeing. Blood vessels protruding around his eyes. His irises, sclera- blown pitch black. Cold skin even paler than usual. He could feel them now, behind his lips-

Fangs. 

“What the fuck is going on?” You were too calm, given the circumstances, given your words. 

Noah could only imagine the look on his face; Shame, embarrassment, regret. “I’ll go-”

“No no no, nuh-uh. You’re going to stay right there and explain what’s going on or I’ll scream bloody murder and Mr. Joe will come over with his 42 and we’ll have real problems.”

Noah stilled, though probably not for the reason you were wanting. “I’m sorry, did you just threaten to shoot me? I grew teeth, I’m a big scary monster, you can’t just shoot-”

“Yes I can! And I will! I’m crazy! I’m not scared of sexy scary monsters, I’m from backwoods Louisiana, pal! I’ve been hunting! I-”

“You think I’m sexy?” Noah could feel his eyes returning to normal as he grinned at you.

“Shut up.” Your voice cracked, betraying you.

Noah stood up, cocking his head to the side. His fangs were retracting now, disappearing from view. He gave you a long look. 

You looked pissed, which was new. He was more accustomed to fear, knew how to respond to it, soothe it. You had a glint in your eye that looked different from just anger, almost like-

Betrayal. The earth whispered to him. 

He took a deep breath. He could still smell arousal on you. “I’m sorry, this wasn’t… how I wanted this to go.”

“Then how did you want it to go?” You threw back at him. 

“I- I don’t know! I thought we could hook up and then I’d leave when you fell asleep and I’d find some rando on the way home and-” He stopped short, unsure of how to continue.

“And what?” You prodded, sounding fearful for the first time that evening. Good. You should be scared. He was a monster- an old one. For all you knew he ate virgins and burned down villages. 

He looked down, unable to meet your eyes. “And… drink their blood.”

You exhaled, long. “You kill people to eat?”

His neck snapped up at you. “No, no! Oh my god, no. Just a nibble and I’m on my way-” He stopped at the giggle you let out. “Excuse me?”

“It’s just,” You straightened your face. “You eat people and refer to it as a ‘nibble?’”

“I don’t eat people.” He deadpanned, giving you a look. 

“You just drink their blood.”

“Right.”

You both stared at each other for a long moment. 

“So why-” You began.

Noah motioned for you to continue. 

You blinked. “Why the fangs, then? If you weren’t going to… y’know.” You averted your gaze.

A movement Noah quickly mirrored. “Oh, um. It’s like- an arousal thing. Pretty girl kisses me, fangs pop out.”

You were looking at him again. “You think I’m pretty?”

He met your eyes. “Yeah. Prettiest thing I’ve seen so far, and I’ve been around for a while.”

You took a slow step towards him. “How often do you eat?”

“Um, once a week, if it’s good. Maybe twice if it’s not.” He responded automatically, trying not to think about how bizarre this conversation was.

Your head tilted slightly. Another step. “How long has it been? Since you’ve… fed?”

He was watching you carefully now. Then, very quietly, he said “Two weeks.”

Something like concern flooded your eyes, and you almost winced at him. “That’s a long time to be hungry.”

He could see your jugular on your neck, pulsating with life. He said nothing in response. 

You took another step. “Would it help if you… fed on me?”

He looked at you sharply, processing your words in seconds. “No.”

“Why not?” You countered, cocking a brow.

Why not? The earth whispered at him again, voice a caress in his ear. He could smell you- Alive, fresh and-

Fertile. The familiar voice supplied. He fought the urge to roll his eyes. I’m not going to tell her she smells fertile, he retorted. 

“You can’t think of a good reason.” You assumed, staring almost directly into his silence. 

“I could hurt you.” He supplied helplessly.

“And that’s worse than hurting someone else?” 

He tried again. “No- it’s not, but-” A deep breath, “I can’t stand the thought of hurting you.”

You placed a hand on his arm, too warm and too close. “Then I’ll just hurt you back.” You were so close to him, when did you get this close- “You look awfully hungry, Noah.” You murmured, looking up at him through your lashes.

It was impossible for him to misread your body language as his hands came up to grip your hips, tugging you closer to him. He could feel your nipples hardening where your bodies met. 

“You can tell me to stop, okay? Whenever you want, just say the word and we’ll stop.” He was panting now, salivating in anticipation as his canines slid back out. 

You nodded. “I’ll let you know if anything changes.” Then you kissed him again, sliding your tongue over his fangs in a move that made him outright moan into your mouth. He scooped you up in what was obviously a feat of superhuman strength, chucking you onto the bed. 

He made quick work of your clothes, pulling your shirt over your head in a swift movement that had him pausing to stare. “Blessed be to the old gods and the new.” He breathed, taking in your pert nipples, breasts swaying at his hasty movements. He leaned in, running his tongue from your sternum, up through your breasts, stopping only at your neck. “Do you taste as good as you look, love?”

Your cheeks reddened. “Let’s hope so.” 

He grinned, a wicked, awful thing, tugging on your pants until they slid off, leaving you in just your underwear. “Wanna see a trick?” 

You did not want to see a trick, you decided as your body betrayed you and nodded anyway. 

He came down to eye-level with your mound, slowly and carefully hooking a single fang on the fabric, sliding it directly through your panties until they were completely torn open. 

You gaped, unable to form words. 

“Sorry, those were cute. I’ll make it up to you.” Noah promised as he spread your legs open for him. 

You felt exposed, vulnerable. Your entire body went red as he watched you. He ran a finger up your slit, making your entire body shudder. “Oh? Baby likes that?”

You nodded, blinking rapidly. Noah swatted your inner thigh, not enough to hurt, but enough to get your attention. “Use your words.”

Your cheeks grew even pinker. “Y-yes, I liked it.”

He leaned down, caging you in. “Want me to fuck you?” 

“Please.” You whispered. His eyes went pitch black again. 

“Good girl, already knows to beg.” He backed off of you, tugging off his turtleneck sweater, revealing a fully tattooed torso. Your mouth went dry at the sight. “Again.” He demanded.

“Please.” You obeyed, still barely above a whisper. 

“Prettier.” He demanded again, unbuckling his pants.

“P-please, Noah, please-”

“Almost there.” His pants hit the floor, revealing a pair of equally as inked legs.

“Please, I’ll be so good, Noah, please, let me be good-”

“That’s a good girl, good job. C’mere.” He sat back down on the bed, the outline of his cock clearly visible in his briefs. You wanted to feel, to taste.

You obliged his command, crawling over to straddle his lap. 

“Here’s how this is gonna go, pretty thing.” He began, sliding a finger inside of you as he did so. You gasped, latching onto his shoulder for support. “I’m going to get you nice and loose, then you’re going to ride me, like this. Understand?”

“Yes sir.” You stammered as he added another finger. 

“Ooh, nice manners.” He praised, dropped a kiss to your jaw. You shivered at his touch. “When you feel like you’re close, you’re going to tell me, and then I’m going to bite right-” he rubbed a small line on the side of your neck- “Here. Does that sound okay?”

You nodded, then remembered to say “Yes, yes, sounds wonderful, sounds amazing, Noah fuck me please-”

He chuckled quietly, lifting you up ever so slightly to align himself where he had pulled down is briefs. “You ready?”

“Noah I swear to whatever gods, old and new- fuck.” Your rampage broke off into a moan as he slid himself into you. His thrusts were short at first, letting you adjust, until you finally sank all the way down. 

You were panting when you finally bottomed out. “Big- ‘S so big.” You whined, clenching and unclenching on him involuntarily.

Noah’s breaths were equally as ragged. His hands had come to rest on your hips, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on them. “Whenever you’re ready.” He placed another kiss on your forehead. 

You waited another few seconds, then pulled up experimentally. The drag of him inside you had a long moan escaping your throat. You dropped down, gasping, rising up again. You repeated this until you were riding him in earnest, moans and gasps escaping you both. 

You didn’t know how Noah was managing to hit that bundle of nerves inside of you every time you sank down, but he was. You draped your arms on his shoulders, leaning in to kiss him deeply, fangs tugging on your lip ever so slightly. “You look so good riding my cock baby, look so good with a big cock in you, like you were made for this-” Noah’s profane train of thought continued on until it was white noise in your ears. You registered that your thighs were shaking from the effort, but you couldn’t stop, not when you were so close-

“Close.” You panted. “Fuck, Noah, I’m so close, so close-”

He pulled your hair to the side quickly, teeth lining up with your throat.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum-” 

The world went white as Noah sank his fangs into your throat and you came, release squirting all over the both of you as your body shook. 

You panted as he sucked at your throat, eyes fluttering shut. One of his hands was rubbing at your back, the other snaked around your waist. You stayed like that for a few minutes more, until you almost felt light-headed and he released you with a soft “pop.” 

You blinked at him sleepily as he laid you down against your pillow. He stood up, tugging up his boxers and turning to walk away. “Are you leaving?” You slurred, sounding sad even to yourself.

You could hear his little laugh. “No, I’m getting you a snack and some water. I know I’m dreamy, but I can’t have the ladies passing out on me.”

You rolled your eyes as he disappeared, faint clattering alerting you of when he found the kitchen. 

When he returned, you were more alert, taking the water and gulping it down. You took a second to look at him. 

He was beautiful before, but now- wow.

His hair was silky, skin still pale but not so lifeless. His eyes were richly dark, amusement seeming to dance in them. “Y’know,” You began, “You’re really pretty when you’re not starving to death.”

If he could have blushed, he might have. “Back at you.” Was his response, handing you crackers.

You nibbled on them while he went about dressing himself. “You’re not staying?” You did your best to not sound disappointed. 

Noah shot you a smile. “Sadly, no. I have to get back to my hiding hole before the sun comes up.”

You nodded, looking down. “Will I get to see you again?”

“I have a feeling you’ll be seeing entirely too much of me.” Noah responded, sounding amused. 

“What makes you say that?” You questioned, confusion written on your face. 

“Because you broke the cardinal sin of running around with a vampire.” Noah grinned, looking devious. “You invited me in.”

[desertfangs]

The Parallels Between Armand and Daniel's Turnings

I’m rereading Blood and Gold and I was struck by how similar Armand and Daniel’s turnings are.

Armand and Daniel were both mortals in love with vampires. Armand (Amadeo at the time) knew Marius was something “other” pretty quickly, and eventually Marius even shows him that he’s a monster as a sort of test to see how he’ll react. Armand is no less smitten and still wants to be with Marius (and be like him - he even cutely asks if he just needs to drink the blood of evil doers to become like him.)

Daniel, of course, knew Armand was a vampire when they met, and he is also enamored with his monstrosity as well as his humanity. He wants to be a vampire when he finds Armand, but by the time he's turned, he also wants to live forever with him.

Both were given little drinks of vampire blood repeatedly as mortals before their turning, although for Daniel this went on for 8 years, and while it only lasted 2 or so years for Armand.

Both Armand and Daniel are dying when they’re turned (Armand from poison and Daniel from alcoholism). Marius had decided to turn Armand already, though he was waffling a little, and I'd argue Armand had made the same decision about Daniel.

Both Marius and Armand are brought to tears when faced with the reality of turning the one they love and both Armand and Daniel tell their would-be makers not to cry. From Blood and Gold: He smiled. And it was never innocent, no matter how beautiful, his smile, "Don't weep for me, Master," he answered. He struggled to rise a little from the pillow, his eyes very wide. "When the ikon fell, my fate was made, Master."

From Queen of the Damned: "Don't cry! It's not fair," Daniel said. "This is my rebirth. How can you cry? Don't you know what this means? Is it possible you never knew?" Both Armand and Daniel have to affirm that yes, they do want the blood, and to be with their soon-to-be-maker:

Blood and Gold: “Would you truly have the Blood, Amadeo?” I asked. “Say it to me, that you forsake the light of the sun forever, and forever you will thrive on the blood of the Evil Doer as I thrive.” “I vow it, I will it,” he answered. “You'll live forever, unchanging?” I asked, “feeding upon mortals who can be your brothers and sisters no more?” "Yes, forever unchanging," he answered, "among them, though they are my brothers and sisters no more.”

Queen of the Damned: "Say the word, my love," Armand said. "I'll do it. We'll be in hell together after all." "But don't you see," Daniel said, "all human decisions are made like this. Do you think the mother knows what will happen to the child in her womb? Dear God, we are lost, I tell you. What does it matter if you give it to me and it's wrong! There is no wrong! There is only desperation, and I would have it! I want to live forever with you."

Anyhow, I just think the parallels between Marius/Armand and Armand/Daniel are really neat and this is a really stark example.

[nalyra-dreaming]

COMMENTS on 2x07 - SPOILERS

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . *FIRST OFF: GOD HAVE I CRIED *No breath, no relief, all the pain This… contains a lot of swearing. . . . . . . .

The fucking rat box - there is a significant time gap between Claudia being shoved in there and her on stage. I BET that will become "that" time frame later, when Armand.... finally gets to it.

Btw, the iron boxes... an iron entrapment. I'm not sure if deliberate, but there is a piece of lore from Blood Communion that could come into play here IF they should pick it up again, later on

I’m glad they made the mental influence clear right away. Like… it’s not even subtle. And Lestat acting weird AF isn’t subtle either. It’s clear. It’s scripted. It’s the “last play”. It’s been “designed, and rehearsed.”

The Achilles’ heel slashed is so… vicious

Louis sensing and smelling Lestat… oh honey

Like that they referred to “the old place” for the other theater

Them making him swear on her diary is sooooo…💀

Santiago is so PLEASED when Lestat returns to script lol… we don’t see it but I wonder how many of the jury it took

A story of love... 💀

They are using the music box music … the fuckers

Awwww Armand being “punished” to watch… nawwwwww glad Daniel is not buying it either... and by Sam, the playwright... with a scythe... nawww. Okay, everybody buying that after that little restaurant display raise their hands, lmao.

That Lestat sleeping in the dirt is just... wrong. We already KNOW he returned to Paris twice. Another hint!!!

The repeated hint at the “ancient blood”… very on the nose

Their eye contact

Them trying to make it seem as if Louis “hunted” Lestat… lmao. As if Louis could have if Lestat would not have wanted him to????

Santiago prompting Lestat…. they seem to have pushed the narrative into his mind

on a random note: the blue contacts look so much better this season???

Oh…. Lestat SNAPPING at “fags” - loved it - so fantastically intense and creepy

“where lies their disgust now”?

Lestat making that man feel what he feels - WHY didn’t you just show this to Louis?????

THE HAIR CHANGED!!! There is that strand again! And the perfect hair in other scenes!!! INFLUENCED!! Manipulated!! I’ve been fucking saying.

OOOOHHHHH MY GOD Claudia’s turning … Louis knowing about the laws, did Louis really promise to stay???? I mean that’s just bargaining, and Louis just… begging… oh god, AND THEN THE FUCKING CUT TO ARMAND’s LOOK OH YOU FUCKER

“you were manipulated into it”… yeah. Say it, Santiago

God. Lestat there. And Louis the way he sees him.

Lestat confirming that Louis did not share affection with him anymore, as said, for years

Yeah, no, Lestat’s pose there for the Antoinette reveal is totally… natural 💀

God, Claudia cackling at Lestat saying “she’s the best of my vampiric self”… 😭

Ep5 revisit. Uhhhhh boy did they expand on what we already knew. And I KNEW something happened in the coffin room that made Lestat snap!! I KNEW IT! Okay, they kept the weird logistics of the fall (for now at least), but… yeah. This makes at least��� more sense than before, I guess. Also, Lestat fully breaking script and admitting it. KNOWING he had hurt Louis there. Knowing. (I still stand by the Amel theory for the outside part and the comment in 1x06. Since they are taking from Prince Lestat….)

“A wolf congratulated for not killing her pup”!!!!!!!!

Louis is wearing something other than black again!!!!

“and then - something real” - and Armand chiming in… how… inconspicuous 💅🏼

A Stoning. Indeed.

I’m not sure how much I believe of them waking Lestat tbh… like... with the supposed trial rehearsals... and the crossing over... nawwwww

That eating blood with a spoon is so… inefficient. Like, they drink so much more???? What kind of blood is that to savor it like that? Must be special??? Or it's just show.

Oh god. Madeleine choosing Claudia. She is my coven. God.

Ugh. Lestat breaking script for Claudia. AND BY GOD I HOPE CLAUDIA FULFILLS THAT PROMISE

Oohhhhwwwwwww and Armand working SO HARD ON SAVING LOUIS!!!!! YOU LITTLE…. GNAAAHHHHH I don’t even have a word. "bites something"

God the pebbles/rocks. The entombment. And the SAME stones at the Dubai tree…

Lestat, swaying on his feet

So. Armand tells us of Claudia facing her death bravely. And defiantly. And the stare of shock and pain on Lestat’s face. Armand… the last to know the truth… for now. -.-

PREVIEW

And Armand getting Louis out.. afterwards. When… the coven did not care anymore, right??????? Mh hmmm.

Louis getting their asses

Louis going to kill Lestat??? MHHHH

EPISODE INSIDER

"it’s a fake setup - props in a play". Yeah. THAT.

Claudia doesn’t give an inch - "she knows she’s right"

“She has Lestat’s blood - if they do anything, it’s come back with a vengeance”!!!!!!!!!!! YES PLEASE 😭

Claudia’s death represents Louis’ last connection to this world

“[Claudia] was a brilliant vampire.

IN - fucking - DEED

God, what an episode.

I am... somewhat irritated that the reshot the turning and did not really revisit murder night, because the discrepancies there still stand. Except they have always intended to return to it in s3, which might make sense. Still. A bit weird, all of it. And Lestat breaking out of the control and script to admit to hurting Louis. 😭

God.

[stayinlimbo]

she kissed me and i tasted you again

summary: the second worst thing to happen in minho’s life was losing you. he’s still living with the first.

pairing: lee minho x f!reader genre: angst (and i mean it) WARNINGS: implied character death, a non-consensual kiss, grief, drinking, swearing, slightly unedited, intended lowercase please do not read if any of these themes are triggering. word count: 1.91k note: please read the warnings! i had "leave me alone" by daniel seavey on repeat while writing this. i hope you enjoy ♡ please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are always appreciated

minho shouldn’t have listened to chan. 

the blend of colorful strobe lights, though vibrant, does little to illuminate the dark room he finds himself in. the smell of alcohol and smoke permeates the air, stinging his eyes and nose as he blindly pushes through the numerous people blocking his way. an involuntary gag almost escapes him at the overwhelming body odor of the man he just brushed past.

at first, a “boys’ night out” to end a stressful work week didn’t sound like the worst idea minho had heard come from his friend’s mouth. now, though, the combination of being pressed between sweaty bodies and the mediocre club music pulsating in the background was reason enough for him to want to end the night prematurely and return to the familiarity of his home.

but he can’t. not if he wants chan’s disappointed face to haunt him for the rest of the weekend.

because chan is just trying to help. or at least that’s what minho tells himself every time he is dragged out of his small one-bedroom apartment to entertain his friend’s version of fun. last week was camping, which minho would normally enjoy if chan had bothered to check the weather forecast’s warnings of heavy rain and strong winds (he only lasted twenty minutes before sprinting back into the car, forcing a reluctant chan to take him home drenched and in a darkened mood).  

the thinning crowd reveals minho’s destination; the bar is too small for the number of people surrounding the countertop but chan’s broad stature is identifiable enough in the poor lighting for minho to walk over and squeeze himself beside him. on the other side of his friend, a woman holds chan’s attention as the two talk animatedly about somethi- 

minho’s eyes widen, sparing his friend’s back an incredulous glance. his pulse quickens, a rapid rhythm pounding in his chest, as snippets of their conversation reach his ears; the phrases knows how to cook, really good dancer, three cats, single, spew haphazardly out of chan’s mouth and echo in minho’s mind. the woman’s cheerful laughter resonates against the music's throbbing bass and the blood rushing in his ears. 

oh. oh. they’re talking about him. 

“chan,” minho’s voice is a low murmur, barely audible enough for the older man to hear, “what’re you doing?” 

minho’s question hangs in the air as chan’s rambling suddenly stops, carefully turning his body to face minho’s intense stare. 

the discomfort radiating off the younger is obvious. shifting in his stance, minho can’t help the slight furrow of his brows; the hardness of his eyes wanes as they flicker between chan and the woman before finally resting on his friend’s face.

softly exhaling, chan gives him a knowing look. 

fuck. 

minho remains silent as his grip on the bar’s edge tightens, avoiding chan’s sympathetic gaze. he knows what’s coming—the well-intentioned yet painful words that carve a hole in his heart every time they are uttered:

“its been over a year, minho. she’d want you to be happy… i want you to be happy”

minho’s eyes screw shut at his friend’s words.

perhaps it’s the pitiful expression etched on chan’s face, mirroring the ache minho feels within his own chest, or the alcohol flowing through his system that makes him truly consider the weight of the elder’s words. or maybe he’s seen enough of chan’s desperate attempts to mend the fragments of minho’s shattered heart, only to reveal more irreparable damage. 

he’s right…

“just try, okay?” chan quietly pleads.  

regardless, a small nod is all he manages to give in response. minho opens his eyes, tracking his friend’s movement as chan gives his shoulder two reassuring pats before walking away from the bar and disappearing into the sea of bodies. 

…you’d want him to be happy. 

“hey” 

flinching, minho snaps his head in the direction of the feminine voice. his posture straightens, a tight lipped grimace threatening to reveal itself.   

oh, right, she’s still here.

a hesitant smile graces the woman’s expression. the gentle glow of the pulsing lights caress her face with various colorful hues, the radiant shadows enhancing her black-dressed figure as she grabs her half-full drink from the countertop. taking a small sip, her eyes glaze over his tense form. a soft chuckle escapes her glossed lips as she locks her eyes with his. 

minho won’t deny it; she is beautiful. and he must’ve been staring too much because her name falls on deaf ears when she attempts to introduce herself.

“...hello? you are minho, right?” the woman questions, eyebrows furrowing with slight doubt. 

“uh, yeah i am, sorry,” minho answers, his sweaty hands fumbling to grab chan’s left-behind soju, ultimately choosing to shove them into his pockets instead. he can feel the awkwardness emanating off of him, filling the room with a lingering tension he doesn’t know how to escape.

the woman’s smile widens, eyes crinkling with pleasure at his reply. 

well, she doesn’t seem to notice at least.

“ah, great! chan, i think that was his name, was telling me all about you. you have a really dedicated wingman.” 

“yeah, he’s a good friend. i’m lucky to have him,” minho sighs, turning his body to fully face her. 

“you’re a dancer, right?”

the rigidness of his stance loosens slightly at the comfortable subject. talking about himself isn’t hard; it never has been.

“mhm, i’m a dance teacher for a studio nearby,” minho replies, a faint smile playing on his lips. the flow of conversation remained focused on him: he’s been a dance teacher for three years but has danced since he was in middle school. yes, maybe he’ll audition for a company one day. yes, he has three cats named soongie, doongie, and dori. 

the passage of time blends together with their laughter. the nameless woman’s drink has long been finished and replaced with a new one. chan’s soju finds its way into minho’s hand, nursing the bottle carefully as he finishes it with a final swig. the stress mounted on his shoulders has finally lifted, the buzz of alcohol brushing the pain off as they rise and fall rhythmically at her drunken attempt to finish recounting an embarrassing date.

“do you live alone?” the woman’s speech is slightly slurred, tone breathless from laughter. a lopsided grin adorns her features, as if she already knows the answer, “i forgot to ask you earlier.”

minho’s smile begins to fall. “no, i told you about my cats, remember?” 

“i meant do you live with another person? a roommate? chan told me you used to live with your ex, so i was just wondering if anything had changed since then.”

the room freezes over. icy tendrils of shock and disbelief squeeze his hammering heart, his blood running cold at the woman’s words. his ex?

silence fills the tense space. the intensifying pain from his clutch on the soju bottle thrusts him back into his dreadful reality. he lets go, placing his hand flat on the counter.

minho sucks in a deep breath. “oh. what else did chan tell you?”

“wellllllll,” she drawls, a flirty smile appearing on her face. the shadows seem menacing now, their elongated forms dancing along with her slow, deliberate words, “he said you needed help getting over her.”

the woman reaches towards him, fingers closing firmly on his forearm. minho doesn’t have time to react before she lurches forward and seals her lips with his. 

the kiss lasts for two seconds before she pulls away. paralyzed, minho can’t move until she attempts it again, forcefully shoving her away. tears well into his widened eyes, quickly threatening to spill onto his cheeks. the transferred lipgloss feels sticky against his mouth.

“get the fuck away from me, now.” 

the woman doesn’t move, her mouth stammering as she tries to form a coherent sentence. “i-i’m sorry. i was just trying to-”

minho doesn’t wait to hear her justification, swiftly pushing away from the bar and stumbling in the direction of the exit. the rush of air as he pushes the door open makes singular tears streamline down his face. the chilled breeze burns his eyes as they dart around his surroundings lit by the sparse scattering of street lamps. 

no, he really shouldn’t have listened to chan. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

minho doesn’t know how he made it home (well, actually, he does but he’d rather pretend he doesn’t than admit that chan saw his distressed state leave the nightclub and called him an uber).

the taste of the woman’s lipgloss remains on his lips, no matter how many times he tries to wipe it away. he hates how he doesn’t hate it because it tastes like you.

you, who wore the same strawberry lipgloss every time you went on a date, only for minho to kiss it all off by the end of the night. 

you, who was so excited to move in with him in this small, dingy apartment until the two of you could find a better place; a home.

you, who promised you’d be right back before kissing his cheek and heading out the door.

you, whose hands he will never hold again. 

you, whose spot on the bed his cats now sleep on every night.

you, who one year, four months, and six days later, still occupy his every thought. 

you– a sob wracks through his body, echoing around the bedroom’s walls. the empty mattress trembles with him as he curls into himself, breath hitching with every whimper of your name, as if calling it enough times would bring you back into his arms once again—right where you belong. 

no, you were never his ex. you were everything. you are everything. 

your presence is everywhere in the apartment. your favorite coffee mug (that he gifted you) rests on the counter next to his. the book you swore you would finish reading one day is left bookmarked inside the drawer of the bedside table; the same place a velvet box is tucked away and hidden since he knew you’d never pick it up again (but god, he wishes you did). he had to throw away your toothbrush but your skin care products taunt him every time he retrieves his from under the sink. 

his heart aches with a feeling that refuses to fade; he loved you. he loves you.

everyday becomes harder to breathe, to exist. the apartment, once filled with loud laughter, gentle whispers, and promises of love, is now a silent void. the absence of your soft footsteps, a careful dance to avoid stepping on the cats crowding around your feet, claws at minho’s heart. the sanctuary he knew he could run to and be welcomed with open arms and a warm embrace crumbled before his eyes the moment you were gone.

minho’s breaths evens out after a few minutes, each inhale pulling the familiar scent of the apartment. the tears leave damp marks on his pillow and lines on his face but its nothing he isn’t used to; a ritual, a routine he’s sadly accustomed to. it's not the first time his tears have stained the sheets, and it won’t be the last. the cruel cycle will repeat itself until one day he wakes up and doesn’t instinctively reach out for you in hopes that his reality isn’t just a hellish nightmare. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

the second worst thing to happen in minho’s life was losing you. he doesn’t know if he can keep living with the first.

────────────────────────────────────────────

liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡

[sugarushwriting]

“look what you made me do.”

you have a past you’re not proud of. the people you hung around and the things you went along with.

but now it’s came to bite you back.

trigger warning: blood, gore, harassment, SA, just know you’ve been warned. it’s not as explicit as many others, but it’s still different than what i have written in the past.

not proofread

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

it’s been 2 weeks since one of your friends from high school passed away in a terrible car accident.

“it’s so empty without kelly here.” asa pouted.

maya smiled. “her soul is in a better place, asa.” maya was definitely being sarcastic.

currently, you and your friends maya, asa, and danielle were sitting in a cafe.

you all decided to meet each other after a stressful two weeks when you all had time after your part time jobs.

you’ve all been friends since high school. about 6 years have passed since, but your guilty conscience wouldn’t let go of all the bad you’ve done to others then.

it seems you were the only one.

you sighed. “do you think karma is finally catching up to us?”

all three girls looked at you. “why would you say that? nothing bad has happened to us, only kelly.” danielle said.

“what we did happen years ago, we were young, dumb teens. i’m sure our classmates got over it.” maya waved off.

“i just can’t shake this feeling of being watched for the past month.” you shook your head, gripping your cup of hot liquid in front of you.

“you’ve felt it to?” asa asked shocked. “i have been feeling as if someone has been watching me too!”

maya scoffed. “you all are so paranoid! no one cares about us enough to follow us around.” maya then laughed, “well at least not you all. maybe me.” she flipped her light hair over her shoulder.

maya, you could say was the ring leader, and the worst one of you all.

just then, the bell over the door rang, and you all were back to arguing in hushed tones when danielle slapped mayas shoulder.

“what was that for?” maya hissed.

danielle pointed to the boy waiting in line. “he looks familiar, no?”

mayas loud laugh could be heard throughout the room, “you’ve got to be kidding! loser wonie?”

you and asa looked at the boy that maya had pointed out.

“only, it’s not loser wonie anymore, huh?” maya smirked crossing her arms.

the boy turned around, a shocked expression on his face. his cheeks began to turn red.

“it is you!” maya hit her hand on the table. “yang jungwon? no way!”

yang jungwon? you remembered him. he was a target of yours and the girls back in high school.

you had to stop your mouth from hanging open. you were sure the girls would agree with you—jungwon has gotten a lot more attractive. seems like he’s been hitting the gym more than books over the past years.

jungwon bowed in embarrassment and shyly. after all these years, he’s never once forgotten or forgiven what you and your friends done to him and other classmates.

“not gonna say hi? hello? how you doing?” maya teased.

jungwon quickly turned around and walked out the cafe.

“maya, will you ever stop being a bitch?” you snapped. you were tired of her high school mean girl personality.

maya narrowed her eyes at you. “what did you call me?”

“let’s not start this okay!” asa sighed.

“yeah, can we focus on the fact how hot yang jungwon got over the years? i thought he left the city for college?”

you shrugged. “maybe he came back after graduation? or maybe on break?”

“makes me wonder what other boys got hot over the years.” maya leaned back in the seat. “maybe huening kai? riki?”

“oh, i’ve seen updated pictures of riki! he’s very handsome and a dancer and photographer!”

this time maya slapped danielle. “and you didn’t tell us?”

“it’s not like he’d be interested, he was a target of ours, remember?”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

it was a typical day for you after work. you got home around 9 in the evening, throwing your shoes off and plopping yourself on your couch.

you texted the girls.

you: anyone wanna go out for drinks? i need maybe one or two, or maybe ten

danielle: early shift tomorrow :(

asa: has anyone heard from maya? i texted her yesterday and never got a reply.

danielle: she’s probably still pissed about being called a bitch

you: not my problem

maya: oh boo-who, you didn’t hurt my feelings

you: asa, see? she’s fine.

except maya wasn’t fine. and it wasn’t maya who replied.

the girls went radio silent after that and you huffed in annoyance. you really needed new and better friends.

instead, you opened a bottle of soju you had and chugged it before taking a quick shower.

not because you wanted to, but because the hot water ran out after ten minutes.

getting out, you just decided to slip on shorts and an oversized shirt. you’re somewhat used to the hot water running out, especially this late at night.

the soju seemed to do nothing, so you decided to drink two more within 30 minutes. it wasn’t long until you fell asleep on the couch.

you woke up, to see your television was still on, and looked over to the clock on your stove.

2:56 am.

turning it off, you decided just to stay on the couch and lifted the blanket higher on your body.

you sat up quickly.

blanket? you didn’t fall asleep with a blanket. quickly reaching for the lamp beside you, turning it on, you studied the blanket in fear.

because the blanket was covered in pictures of you. pictures that were clearly taken from afar without your knowledge.

pictures of you at work, at the pool, sleeping, naked.

“what the fuck?” you threw the blanket off your body quickly in disgust before you stood up looking at the room around you.

“you bitches are never grateful for anything.”

a deep voice said and you quickly turned around trying to find the source. you spun in circles finding no one.

“i got you a nice present and the first thing you do is throw it to the ground?”

when you turned around again, a figure in all dark clothes, and a mask was standing in front of you.

but before you could scream, the hooded figured took a bat and hit you over the head, sending you to the ground.

with a headache, you attempted to crawl, but was weakened by the blow. the figure hovered over you, and his hand holding a cloth came over your mouth.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

you awoke to being tied to a chair. your hands and arms bound behind your back, your ankles bound to each chair leg.

your mouth and eyes remained uncovered.

once your vision came to, a scary sight came to.

asa and danielle bound by their wrists, hanging from the ceiling, their feet off the ground. their mouths were gagged so they couldn’t speak.

it seemed you all were outside in a barn.

“asa! danielle!” your voice croaked out.

both girls eyes went wide and they started moving around and crying.

your eyes went to further to the left and you wish you had not looked.

it was maya. she was bound from her wrists, hanging from the ceiling of the barn. but she was barely alive.

her head was hanging at a weird angle, a pool of blood underneath her, leaking from her mouth, and gashes all over her body.

you screamed.

“oh shut up! don’t act like you actually cared for her.”

a man came out of the shadows. danielle and asa started wiggling like crazy once again, and you sat there silenced.

yang jungwon.

he was wearing black sweats, black boots, and a black tank top showing off his arms that he’s clearly been working on.

“jung—jungwon?” you whispered out. you closed your eyes tightly hoping this was just a bad dream. but when you opened your eyes again, he was still there.

“boo.” he said and laughed. jungwon threw mayas phone to the ground beside you. “asa here was the only one worried about poor maya. turns out she had a reason to.”

jungwon walked over to mayas barely hanging on body, a bored expression written on his face, but behind his eyes, you saw the twinkle of excitement.

he caressed maya’s cold cheek with a smile. “so pretty on the outside, but so ugly on the inside.” he scoffed. maya grumbled as much as she could with little energy.

“what—what are you gonna do with her now?” your voice trembled. there was no way he could get away with this, right?

he smiled happily. “that, im glad you asked.” he walked closer to you. “first, i have a wood chipper im excited to use.”

you swallowed in disgust and disbelief. asa and danielle were freaking out behind him, knowing they were probably next.

“after that, i learned something very interesting from criminal minds.” he stared at you with a dark look, that smile never fading.

“what—what’s that?”

“pigs are the best for crime scene clean ups.”

yes, because pigs would eat anything.

“please, please jungwon don’t. don’t do this.” you reasoned. you had to try something, right?

“let me ask you something.” jungwon asked. you nodded, signaling for him to continue, “if it meant your friends stayed alive would you give yourself to me in exchange for their life?”

you nodded without a thought. “yes, yes, yes.”

jungwon laughed in disbelief. he turned quickly to the other girls in disgust. “you hear that ladies? your friend here is willing to give her life for yours.”

asa and danielle were trembling with tears.

jungwon turned back to you. “might wanna rethink that answer sweetheart.” he said through gritted teeth. “your friends here had the opposite to say.”

you looked behind jungwon, seeing the girls shaking their heads. jungwon looked behind him, angered, “don’t fucking lie now!” he walked over to them, grabbing an axe on his way.

asa was full force crying now.

“i asked you three the same question, and you said you wouldn’t give your life for her!” he pointed the axe to you.

they said that? you knew every life was important and whatnot, but isn’t that what most friends say in a time like this? or anyone who cares for another? that they rather the killer take their life than the one they cared for?

tears filled your own eyes.

“i’m done waiting.” jungwon threw the axe off to the side as he walked over to maya. “say bye bye.”

what happened next seemed unreal as you felt it was a total out of body experience. the trauma already being embedded into your brain.

jungwon carelessly carried mayas barely holding on body to a machine off to the corner which must be the wood chipper he was talking about. he threw her to the ground, turning it on.

he did it all with a genuine smile. ranting on how you all were going to get your karma for not only the way you treated him, but others in high school.

you screamed and screamed, jungwon laughed stating no one would hear you. your throat began to hurt but you didn’t care.

danielle and asa were crying, trying to properly breathe as their mouths were restricted.

you could barely see maya, but you knew she was crying, and mumbling, probably begging for her life.

“too late to beg for forgiveness now.”

you nearly threw up at the sight of maya being placed in the wood chipper. there was a bag covering the other end, possibly to contain evidence.

you looked back at the other two and notice asa’s pants were wet as tears flowed harder down her face.

“i’m not cleaning you up!” jungwon said to asa. “don’t think i have forgotten the many times you all bullied me so hard, it made me pee on myself, or when you all would dump my head in the women’s toilet.”

jungwon took the bag off of the chipper, tying it up. he dragged it to the door of the barn. “time to feed the pigs.” he smiled wickedly.

“i’ll leave the nightlight on. i know you’re still scared of the dark, danielle.” he smiled and winked towards the curl haired girl.

he closed the barn doors behind him, leaving you three in a barely lit barn.

danielle and asa were tired from fighting the ties, and for were too. you sat there off in space, disbelief, disassociating from the world around you.

you started thinking about all the terrible things you and your so called friends did to those in high school.

although you were never the instigator, you shook their silently, watching the girls do what they did. you and asa both did. if you were to rank, kelly and maya were the worst, danielle behind, just trying to fit in.

did jungwon someone make kelly’s car accident, not an accident? maybe maya wasn’t his first victim. maybe it was kelly.

you continued to tug at the bounds, refusing to be a victim. and it paid off. you were able to free your hands from behind you, bringing them in front of you.

your wrists were raw and and you leaned down to untie your ankles. when the chair creaked form your standing up, danielle and asa both opened their eyes wide, clearly begging for you to help them.

although what they said to jungwon hurt, you weren’t like them. however, if you were to help them, it could just slow you down. it would put on a few extra minutes for jungwon to come back.

or what if they betrayed you? what if they ran and left you behind?

you apologized to them, “i will be back, i promise! im going to get help!”

you clasped your hands together, hoping they would forgive you, as you quickly but quietly ran over to the barn door.

you opened the door carefully, the darkness of outside immediately greeting you. no sound was to be heard but crickets and occasional howls from coyotes.

your bare feet pounded on the ground beneath you as you went towards open woods.

you didn’t know your way around here, didn’t even know where you were, but you wanted to survive.

the adrenaline of trying to survive kept you going. you ran for what felt like miles or hours, as your legs and muscles became weak and tired.

dogs barking in the distance scared you. taking a quick second break, you went to step forward to immediately feel pain.

a trap.

a bear trap got you.

you screamed in agony as the trap dug into your skin, immediately feeling the blood leaking from your body.

you fell to the ground, trying to get the trap off, but it seemed the more you struggled the tighter it dug.

great, is this how you were gonna die, rather than the hands of jungwon?

you screamed and screamed with tears, soon you began to scream jungwon’s name for help.

“jungwon, please help! im sorry!”

you felt your body grow weak, hoping your blood wasn’t being drained.

“jungwon, please!”

little did you know, jungwon was watching. he had cameras in the barn, and around the vicinity of the woods and house. he had set those traps up specifically for you or if any of the other girls happened to get loose.

but mainly you.

he hadn’t tied your bounds as tight as the other girls. he wanted to see if you would leave them behind, and he was proud to see that you did.

he would never set up traps to capture an animal. why would he hurt an innocent animal?

he had livestock guardian dogs for that need. he also had a watch dog, but the dog was trained not to attack people.

that was jungwon’s job.

you heard footsteps and a dog barking getting closer.

soon a small light came into view, and you squinted, seeing jungwon holding a flashlight with a dog.

you cried. you hoped he would help you and not kill you. “please help,” you mumbled, “i’m sorry.”

“shh, it’s okay.” jungwon soothed.

he helped get the trap off of you. “i’m gonna carry you back.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

jungwon held you tight as he walked you back to the house, his dog beside you.

he wasn’t that mad at you, he couldn’t be.

you may not remember but he did, and he was sure the girls remembered too.

you weren’t always like them or friends with them, no.

once upon a time, you were like him and friends with him.

the girls would tease and bully you too, in middle school. but something happened this summer before high school.

you blossomed, and maya and kelly felt threatened you would dethrone them of popularity in high school. they asked you to hang out at the park. you were so excited, but jungwon was worried something didn’t feel right. he was correct.

kelly and maya ended up pushing you, and you tumbled off the playground structure, hitting your head.

thankfully jungwon was there, looking at you from a distance. kelly and maya hadn’t realized jungwon was there, but they ran.

that accident put you in a small coma, and you ended up losing your memory. to make sure you never remembered, the girls took you under their wing and from then, you always thought you were one of them.

anytime jungwon tried to get you back, kelly and maya would be on him.

he didn’t blame you. he didn’t want to hurt you. but he felt hurt himself. betrayed.

since then, all he thought about was karma. all while in high school and after high school, he planned carefully on the revenge. he got smarter, stronger, developed and harder mindset.

he made a list of you all, and who he wanted to target. kelly and mayas name both at the top, with red underlined marks.

from then, he felt he couldn’t trust anyone for the longest time. but he thought it was finally time to kill the old him and burry it.

there’s a reason kelly was targeted first and maya second.

the car accident wasn’t an accident. kelly was in the drivers seat, maya was in the passenger seat, but maya somehow got away from the car engulfed in flames.

jungwon was in the backseat, playing it cool as the girls were giddily with excitement thinking he wanted a threesome with them.

maya and kelly recognized him. and they were shocked he approached them with the question.

he mentioned the “fun” they had with him in high school other than the torment of harassment.

it was fun for them; but not for him.

without the other girls, kelly and maya would corner him in the locker room or bathroom, pull his pants down, exposing him. they would tease him with kisses and touches.

jungwon was too scared to fight back, scared he would hurt one of them too badly. he was taught to never hit a girl. he want to respect that although he was being violated.

maya and kelly would tell him not to tell anyone and that no one would believe him anyway.

everytime he thinks about it, it angered himself.

he was even more angry that maya walked away fine, and acted like she wasn’t in that car when it happened.

he placed you on the couch of his house, and as you slept still, probably worn out from the adrenaline, he cleaned your leg and the blood, making sure your leg and foot wouldn’t become infected.

“thank you.” you whispered, barely awake. “i’m sorry.”

“no need to be sorry. i’m just glad you’re here with me now.”

“jungwon?”

“mhm?”

“what’s going to happen to me?”

he caressed your cheek. “don’t worry about that right now. just get some rest.”

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

[the-quiet-youve-been-longing-for]

This is 99% ramblings

Thinking about Devil's Minion again and how they are perfect for each other just for the fact it's a freak to freak communication

- their meet cute was a 6 day torture session

- "I can be on my knees in a session" *gets shoved there with his mind* (luckily Daniel didn't fall over otherwise there would be a hole in the floor due to his d-)

- "I'm not sure there is anything to you other than a hole"

Somehow in Dubai it gets crazier, "Rashid" being all sweet and Daniel having none of it

- the save it for the rent boy comment even if he knew him for less than a week

- Louis drinking Rashid's blood and Daniel wondering how he tastes (crazy behaviour because the "how much does he weight" question made sense in the context of mirroring Rashid with Damek, but the other one is simply Daniel being a freak)

- I could write a thesis on the little glances he steals to Rashid

Then we move to s2 and oh boy

- "Yeah? Yeeeeah :)" like what is THIS, Armand your boyfriend love of your life etc is right THERE

- Generally Armand looking at that old man with no thoughts that are in the Bible

- Daniel giving it his all

To not talk about "Haven't you heard from MY maker?". It could have said Armand, or any other nickname, but nope

And they are still not together (according to what we saw). But since DM is on the way, what will happen once they actually decide to be in a relationship? How will they bring it to new levels?

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Hi!! I wanted to start by saying your writing is so captivating and I’m just in love.

I’m not sure if you are still writing for him but can I request #40 Tentative kisses given in the dark or #50 A kiss, followed by more that trail down the jaw and neck for Daniel le Domas? If you don’t write for him anymore, can I ask for Art instead? Thank you!

*I'm not currently taking any more requests from this list

Nonnie when I saw the name Daniel le Domas? The gasp I gasped. The scream I scrumpt.

"Take a break."

"I'm not due for a break."

"Take one anyway."

You shot Daniel a sidelong glance before returning your focus to the drink that you were making. You couldn't count how many times you'd bartended for a shindig at the le Domas home. The catering company that you worked for was one of their frequent picks and you were where you always wound up: behind the bar.

Daniel had always been a polite and frequent visitor, but the more often you were there, the more he spoke to you. He was about the only family member that bothered to.

You'd been warned going into that evening that you were supposed to keep your head down and your mouth shut. You just weren't able to warn Daniel. You didn't have his number, and from what you could find, the guy didn't have social media.

It was strange. His life was so glamorous, but seemed so...Contained.

"Come on, go on break," He urged again.

"Daniel, I'm working."

"I can see that. Looks awful."

You glanced toward where your manager was lingering in the doorway to the kitchen, watching you closely. You smoothed your smile away, topping off your glass and passing it to the gentleman that was waiting.

"C'mon, take your break," Daniel urged. "Take a walk with me."

"Not now, Daniel," You muttered.

"I know you get twenty minutes, we'll only take ten...Five?"

You jolted at the sound of your name, straightening up as your manager came over.

"Has she served you, Mr. Le Domas?" He asked.

"Yes, she has."

"Is there an issue with your order?"

"No," Daniel's eyes darted between you and your manager.

"Excellent. I will be taking over here," Your manager stepped in pointedly beside you. "Your help is needed in the kitchen."

You nodded your acquiescence, turning away and heading to the kitchen without another word. Damnit, you were worried that this would happen.

--

"C'mere."

"Jesus!" You hissed, whirling around at the sound of Daniel's voice. When you'd finally taken your break, you'd ducked out to the service entrance to get some air, but you hadn't expected for anyone to be waiting for you.

"C'mere," He urged again, taking hold of your hand.

"You're going to get me in trouble again!" You groaned, but you didn't bother to stay put or let go. You followed him unthinkingly, glancing back toward the door nervously to ensure that no one heard or saw you before you lost sight of it.

--

"You're not planning on murdering me out here, are you?" You asked, glancing around the stables.

"No."

"Helluva place to do it, you know, if you did. Use the hay to clean up some of the blood—You probably can't put a horse on trial. Probably."

"Are you trying to give me ideas?"

"I don't think you need 'em."

"I really get you in trouble?"

"A little."

"...What're they gonna do if they find you out here with me?"

"Fire me, probably. I don't know how they'd find us, though. This place is a fucking labyrinth."

You stopped looking around as you felt the heat of Daniel's body against your back. You bit your lip, fighting to keep yourself still as he stepped around you.

"Hey, but if you are gonna murder me, could you do it quickly? I'm not really into the whole edging thing with sex so I'm definitely not gonna find it hot with, like, death—"

You went still as he cupped your face, swiping his thumb across your cheekbone. You peered up at him, taking in the sweep of his lashes as his gaze lingered on your lips. You stepped a little closer, nudging your nose lightly against his before closing the gap between you. For all of his flirting and teasing at the bar, Daniel seemed almost as nervous as you felt. You slid your hand up into his hair, drawing him closer as he teased his tongue between your lips. His hands settled on your hips, steering you back against a beam. You tipped your head back as the kiss broke, sighing as his lips trailed along your jaw.

"Daniel..."

"Mm."

"I can't be late."

"I'll take care of it."

"But—"

Daniel grasped your jaw, turning your head toward his again, pressing a tender kiss to your lips.

"I'll take care of you."

[ac-19]

Fight - D. Franklin (Bravo 6)

Warning: mention of physical abuse.

Summary: when you show up to base bloodied and bruised, Drew is determined to find the guy that laid his hands on you.

"What are you doing over here by yourself?"

I chuckled lightly as I looked over at Drew, who was pulling a stool out to sit beside me at the bar.

"Probably the same thing as you, hiding from Sonny. And Omar."

Drew nodded.

"Yeah, sounds about right."

I smiled as I took a hold of my beer bottle and downed the rest of it.

"Hey bartender, can we get two beers? On me."

The bartender nodded and proceeded to put two beers down in front of Drew and I.

"I can buy my own drinks, you know."

Drew shrugged as he picked up his beer bottle.

"You shouldn't have to."

I smiled to myself as I picked up the beer bottle off the bar. Drew and I grew on each other over time since we both joined Bravo around the same time, and both had the same lone wolf attitude. Plus, he wasn't hard on the eyes either, so that was a plus.

"Look at you, still the same ole slut I see."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. This was not happening right now.

"What the fuck did you just call her?"

I opened my eyes back up and put my head down. I really didn't feel like dealing with my ex-boyfriend right now so if Drew was willing to take on this fight for me I was going to let him tonight. Daniel and I's relationship was over long before I joined Bravo so there was no need to mention him, but I guess they were going to find out about him now.

"Sorry man, but she's just a plain old slut. Isn't that right (Y/N)? This the new guy your fucking this week?"

"Daniel, you need to leave."

"Fuck that, let's go outside. You and me."

Drew pushed himself up, and I quickly got up. I couldn't let Drew piss away his chance at staying on Bravo for this guy. Plus, if he was gone, that meant I was stuck with Sonny and Omar, and I couldn't handle them by myself. I put my hand on his chest, and Drew looked down at me. I could tell he was angry from the look in his eyes, and as much as I wanted him to lay Daniel out right now, I couldn't let him do that.

"He's not worth it, okay? Let's just go."

I took him a few seconds, but finally, he nodded.

"Yeah let's go."

Drew took a step back and I quickly walked off towards the exit. I caught Sonny's eye as Drew and I were leaving and he gave me a questioning look and I just shook my head. I pushed open the door and ran a hand through my hair as I walked outside.

"Who was that guy?"

"My ex."

"You should have let me lay him out."

"And let you get kicked off Bravo? No thanks. I'm not going to be the reason that happens."

"Would be a damn good reason. He has no right to talk to you like that."

I nodded.

"Hey, you okay?"

I nodded.

"Yeah. I'm gonna go home."

"I can drive you."

I shook my head.

"I'm good, really. I'll see you tomorrow."

Drew nodded.

"See you tomorrow (Y/L/N)."

I walked off towards my car and headed back to my apartment. After the night I had, I took a quick shower, put my pyjamas on and curled up on the couch with my blanket and pillow and put on my favourite TV show.

I must have fallen asleep because I woke up to someone pounding on my front door. Once I gained my senses I could hear the yelling that was coming from Daniel who was obviously the one pounding on my door. I looked at the clock on the stove 3 am. Shit. I really didn't want to get kicked out of this apartment so I quickly got up and opened the door.

"What the fuck Daniel?"

"Where's your boy toy to protect you now huh?"

"Go home Daniel. I'll call you a cab. Hell, I'll even pay for it."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"(Y/N) open up. We see your car out front."

Daniel pushed past me and I sighed as I let the door close behind me. I really wished I had gotten my gun out of my safe. The next hour or so consisted of Daniel and I screaming at each other and before I knew it I was looking at myself in my bathroom mirror with blood dripping down my lip and bruises forming on my face and neck. Daniel had left a little while ago and I was honestly surprised that nobody in my apartment building called the cops. I had locked up behind him and sat on the floor by the front door for a while until I got the energy to get up. While I was lost in my thoughts, a knock on my door almost made me jump out of my skin.

Shit that was Sonny. Did I miss a call from the team? I hurried to the living room and picked up my phone off the floor. Shattered great.

"She has to be here."

Another knock on the door and I sighed. I should open the door, but the last people I wanted to see right now were Sonny and Omar. Eventually they left and I quickly got myself put together and I cleaned the nasty cut on my lip, threw on a black quarter zip sweater, some faded blue jeans and my sunglasses and decided to head down to base anyways. Worst that was gonna happen was that I would get benched for this mission.

I pulled up to the base and took my regular parking spot and headed inside. First person I saw was Liza and I ducked into another hallway to avoid her. I made my way to the basement where my personal equipment was without seeing anybody else and I was grateful. I pushed open the door and sighed as I pushed my sunglasses to the top of my head.

"(Y/L/N) that you?"

Shit. I pulled my sunglasses back down over my eyes and pulled my hair in front of my collarbones to try and hide the bruises as much as possible, but even in this dark basement I doubted I could hide my busted lip.

"Yeah. Overslept, did I miss anything?"

"Sonny covered for you, said you were on a weapon run."

I nodded as I walked past Drew and headed over to my makeshift cage.

"We're spinning up tonight."

I nodded.

"Sounds good."

"Everything okay?"

I nodded and before I knew it Drew was standing in front of me and I swallowed the lump in my throat. He reached up and pulled my sunglasses off my eyes and I could tell by the way his jaw clenched shut that he was livid.

"Who did this to you? Was it that asshole from the bar?"

I shook my head.

"Doesn't matter."

"Like hell it doesn't. Tell me where he is."

I shook my head as I reached over and grabbed my sunglasses out of Drew's hand.

"Just drop it."

"Where the fuck his he?"

I flinched at the tone of his voice and swallowed the lump in my throat.

"Can you just brief me on the mission?"

"(Y/N) it's just the two of us here."

I shook my head.

"I'm not weak."

"I know you're not."

"All this is making me feel weak enough and you feeling the need to fight my battles for me isn't helping. I'm just here to do my job."

Drew put his head down and nodded.

"We're heading back to Thailand."

I nodded.

Drew reached out for me and I backed up and shook my head. He backed off and I took a deep breath, blinked away the tears and started to get my gear sorted. I didn't see the rest of the team until I was boarding the plane alongside Drew.

"Thank you."

"There she is... (Y/N) what the fuck happened?"

"I'm good."

"If you're coming to scold me, I already took one beating today I don't think I have it in me to take another one."

I walked past everybody and headed to an empty corner of the plane and laid my bag down on the floor and slumped down in my seat. Drew sat down not too far away from me but I didn't mind. We took off and nobody came to talk to me until Jason walked over to me.

Jason nodded as he sat down beside me.

"You solid?"

I nodded.

"I'm solid Jase. Wouldn't vbe here if I wasn't."

Jason nodded.

"Look I know you don't like to share things with us but everyone in here is here for you. We're family. A disfunctional one but family nonetheless."

I nodded.

"I've already got the I'm gonna kill him speech from Drew. I'm not gonna let you all risk your careers over me."

He nodded.

"Anything you need."

I nodded as Jason pushed himself up and looked over at Drew.

"Look out for her."

Drew nodded and I put my head down and closed my eyes. It had been a long night and I could really use some sleep.

The events of last night flashed before my eyes and I could feel someone's hand on my shoulder and I started hitting the person who was standing in front of me.

"Hey, hey it's me. It's Drew."

I opened my eyes as much as I could. I could feel that one of them was swollen and instantly started bawling. Drew wrapped his arms around me and I clung to his chest as he sat down beside me.

One by one the other guys came over and sat down beside us and I could feel someone rubbing my back, which I was pretty sure was Drew.

Jason was right this was my family. A disfunctional one but a family.