#me when I want to be a vampire but I don’t want to kill people

[leafatlaw]

that finale actually made me so angry

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

i love getting calls going “hi we’re a cancer support group at the hospital-”

[moonstruckme]

pls hear me out 🙏🙏 vampire!james is recently turned and doesn’t feed cause he’s such a sweetheart he doesn’t want to hurt anyone.

reader notices how weak he is and finds out he hasn’t been feeding and basically offers herself to him and it’s just really comforting and cute

Babe I hear you !!! I hear you soooooo clear (the voices omg, I was so excited to write this). Thank you for requesting!

cw: blood mention

vampire!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.7k words

James never had a problem with eating animals before he became a vampire. You pointed this out to him, once, but he only said it’s different. You suppose it is. The chicken nuggets he used to devour came to him cooked, fried, and with sauces, utterly unrecognizable from what they’d once been. There’s no separating the live-ness from what James has to eat now. 

You spy on him over the top of your book. He’s sitting on the other end of the loveseat with your feet in his lap, massaging your arches through your thick socks while he watches a football match on the telly. His dusky skin had paled after he was turned a few weeks back, but he looks even paler than that now. If he were still human you’d think he was anemic. It’s four in the afternoon, and your ball-of-energy boyfriend looks as tired as if he’s ready for bed. 

“Jamie,” you say, and he squeezes your heel to indicate he’s listening, “can I ask you something?”

“Of course you can, lovely, yeah.” 

“Have you been feeding?” 

James stiffens at the term. “Mm, why do you ask?” 

It’s as close as he thinks he can get to a non-answer, and it’s an answer for you anyways. James can never stand to lie to you. It’s terribly endearing. 

You turn your foot to poke his abdomen. “I can hear your stomach growling.” 

His lips curve. He glances at you. “I’m not sure that’s how it works.” 

“Really? How does it work?” 

“I don’t actually have a clue.” James smiles, which was your aim. He’s been far too downcast for your liking, his new condition entirely to blame. 

“Well, you’re looking pale.” 

“I’ve been pale.” 

“Paler than pale.” You set your book on the side table, moving closer to him. You sit with your feet folded under you. “Also, you haven’t been going out to feed like you used to.” 

James finally looks a bit sheepish. You smile and cup his face in your hand. Though he knows you know, James has still been a tad secretive about the vampire business around you. He sneaks out after he thinks you’re asleep. You’ll hear the front door open and shut when he leaves and then again when he comes back, the kitchen tap running as he cleans himself up. You wish he’d just use the shower. You don’t mind him walking through your bedroom with blood and dirt on him if it means he gets to feel clean when he slips back into bed with you. 

You rub your thumb over his cheek. “What’s keeping you?” 

He sighs. His face weighs a bit heavier in your palm. You think this must be progress, and you repeat your ministrations to his cheek to encourage it. 

“Everything’s hibernating,” says James, a quiet shame underlying his tone. “The…things I used to feed from are gone, and I’m not left with a lot of choices.” 

You hum. “Well, you’ve gotta eat, Jamie.” 

He hesitates, and you give him your sternest look. 

“You do. What about the deer?” 

“They’re harder to catch. And…I…I just feel bad, you know?”

You nod. Take his hand and press a kiss to his palm. Your poor sweetheart. You know James hasn’t killed anything he’s fed from, but even scaring them and potentially hurting them for the time it takes him to feed rattles him terribly. He’s too good, good and kind down to his core, but you know he’s going to have to find some way to cope other than starving himself. 

“What about people?” 

James’ eyes round behind his glasses. “Wha—no, I—”

“I wouldn’t mind you using me.” 

He seems to falter for a moment. His thick brows draw together in stages, from disbelief to confusion and back again. “Angel,” he says, “I couldn’t do that.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because, it’s—it would be—” 

“Or maybe we could try someone else. Someone bad, like a corrupt politician or one of those people who siphons money away from charities.” 

“No.” 

“Then we’re back to me.” You smile at him, one part teasing and two parts genuine. “James, I want to. I don’t like seeing you like this, and I really don’t think I’d mind it.” 

James looks like he’s still having trouble processing. “You don’t think you’d mind?” 

“I don’t,” you repeat patiently. “I’m sort of curious, actually. It could be fun.” 

He looks, to your surprise, like he might actually be considering it. He’s gnawing on the inside of his cheek. “I don’t know if it’d be fun, angel.” 

“That’s okay,” you promise him. “I want to do it for you. You’re hungry, yeah?” You try to make your voice serene and persuasive, your hand coasting up and down his arm. “Let me help.” 

James looks you in your eyes. You hold his gaze. After a while, the fight seems to go out of him. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says. 

“Oh, baby.” You kiss him on his cheek, your heart bulging. “You won’t. It’ll be fine. How do you want me? Hair up?” 

He shakes his head. “It’s good the way it is. I think, um, it might be easier if you were in my lap.” 

“Okay.” You grin, lifting your thigh over his so you’re straddling him. His hands settle on your hips. “Are you romancing me? Is this part of it?” 

James lifts the corners of his mouth, but you can see the trepidation lingering beneath his smile. You do your best to soothe it away with your hands on his shoulders. 

“I want to be gentle with you,” he says.

“I bet you say that to all your victims.” 

“Sweetheart…”

“Sorry, sorry.” You’re nervous. You kiss his nose in apology. 

“If I hurt you—if you don’t like it for any reason, I want you to squeeze my shoulder. Okay?” 

“Okay.” You nod, trying to look certain. “Does it usually hurt?”

“I don’t think so,” James admits. “With animals, they don’t usually…move much after I’ve bitten them. I’m not sure if it stuns them or what.” 

“I’ll report back,” you say seriously. You glance down at the couch cushions. “Will it be messy? Should we go to the bathroom or something?” 

“No, I’m—I’ve gotten better at it. We should be fine here.” 

You smile at him, your pride genuine. “Sounds good.” 

James is starting to look worried again, so you kiss him. On the lips, as sweet as you can muster, and imagine all your love pouring through it. Then, you pull your hair to one side and bear your neck. 

His pupils splay out.

“Remember to squeeze my shoulder.” He sounds hoarse. One of his hands slips up your back to steady you beneath your shoulder blades. 

“I will,” you vow. 

James looks dazed, almost reverent. He wets his lips, and when he opens his mouth you see his tongue skim over pointed teeth. Some prey animal’s instinct sends a shiver of fear through you. Your blood hums with anticipation. But just before James’ teeth skim your neck, he pauses. 

“Jamie.” It’s soft, a murmur, a plea. “It’s okay. Do whatever you want with me.” 

He makes a quiet sound, like a sigh or a whine, and closes the gap. 

At first, it’s only like he’s kissing you. He’s exceedingly sweet about it, lips opening warmly over your skin, his tongue pressing over your artery as though testing the waters. He splays his palm wide over your back in silent warning before his teeth sink into you. 

There’s a sting, but you were ready for it. You keep yourself from wincing, from doing anything that would make James move away, and after a second the pain dulls. Everything does, except for the extraordinary feel of James’ mouth on you. 

“Oh.” Your mouth opens of its own accord, head lolling further to the side to give him better access. You want more, more of this, more of him. Your brain fuzzes and your heart pounds, every nerve in your body narrowing its focus to where James is sucking at your neck, lapping you up. 

You wind your arms around his neck, wanting to be closer to him, and his palm coasts up your back comfortingly. You feel molten, spectacularly, transcendently languid, like you could press your fingertips to his shoulders and they’d melt right in. You don’t, not wanting him to misinterpret it as your signal and stop, but after a while James’ arms are the only thing keeping you from tipping sideways onto the couch, and he stops anyway. 

He finishes with a few chaste kisses, and you think giddily that you weren’t too far off about the romancing. 

“Y’okay, lovie?” he mumbles into your skin. 

You hum in reply. 

James presses one more sweet kiss to your neck, almost a thank-you. He seals the wound with his tongue. A giggle bubbles out of you, one shoulder coming up to ward him off. 

“Sorry,” you say to James’ surprised look. Your head is starting to clear. “That part tickled.” 

His grin splits his face, one part tentative and two parts relieved. “Yeah? Are you really okay?” 

“Super okay,” you promise him. You can’t help grinning. “You were right, it didn’t hurt. That was nice.”

James’ expression eases, some mix of relief and interest in his gaze. “Was it actually?” 

“Mhm. I would be your blood donor any time, really.” 

James scoffs, but he’s clearly elated. He strokes from your hip to your ribs with a big hand, trailing tender kisses up to your cheek. You’re thrilled to see how much more energy he already has. 

“I don’t know about that,” he says in between kisses. “I’d still rather not make you my victim if I can help it.” 

“I didn’t feel like a victim, if that helps.” Your words go mushy as he reaches your lips, but you keep talking, wanting to make your point. “I just mean, I wouldn’t mind doing it again. Maybe when you’re lacking in other options.” 

“Mm, maybe. What was it like?” 

“Like a really good kiss.” 

James backs up from you to give you a dubious look. “Better than the ones I give you normally?” 

You grin. “Maybe a little.” 

His eyebrows shoot up and his mouth drops open, curving on one side. “Oh, yeah? Bold claims.” 

“I don’t know if you can compete with whatever vampire magic that was, Jamie.”

“My kisses are very magical. It seems like I may have to remind you how good they really are, though.” 

You shrug coyly. “If you think you can top that, you’re welcome to try. I mean, you’re really only competing with your—”

James is on you before you can finish.

[zkaus]

At the back of my copy of The Vampire Armand, there's an old interview with Anne Rice talking about creating that novel. I've never forgotten her answer to one of the questions... It haunted me for years.

It gives incredible insight into how and why she wrote such beautiful, brutal and broken characters, and what she endured in the creation process.

BUT before you read this, I'm going to STRONGLY warn you, it goes to very very DARK places

Q: What are your work habits for a novel?

A: Once I truly begin to write, I work obsessively, in twelve-hour days, punctuated by days of long sleep and vivid dreaming. Starting time and ending time are no longer important. I might begin at 9 A.M., or after noon or at eight in the evening. I go from there. I turn on the computer and write, write, write.

My room is a mess. Notes are scribbled on the walls so that I can look up at them at the appropriate moments and insert the date, the name, whatever, when I need it. Books are stacked so high that people have to search for me when they come into the room. Opened books with marked-up pages are stacked on top of one another.

I become suicidal. I go through a horrid despair some time or other before the final page, during which everything seems meaningless—from the dawn of history to the very hour in which I am writing.

I’m intolerable to live with. But I spread myself thin over a number of loved ones and staff members so that no one person has to put up with how intense, hysterical, and miserable I am.

When I get elated and talk fast and furiously about wonderful aspects of history or the characters, or good developments in the story, people run away from me. I don’t blame them.

While the novel is being written, I try to avoid dressing for outdoors. No one can make you go out if you don’t have shoes on. Not even in the south. I wear long velvet robes and soft velvet slippers. I refuse to go out. All food is brought in. I eat hamburgers because they are easy to hold with one hand while reading and holding the book with the other hand.

In the middle of the night I read, sometimes on the carpeted floor of the bathroom, just because it’s warm. I am wretched. I don’t care anymore about being abnormal. Writing is everything. Everything. It seems impossible to write the book. It seems impossible to lift a hairbrush to brush my hair. But I do it. I put on mascara every day that I write.

This period of intense work lasts about six weeks. It’s best that way. My imagination is overheated, and my memory clogged with data of varying importance. If I go over six weeks, I begin to forget things; I feel the loss of intensity and information and I become all the more self-destructive and obsessed.

The end of the book is a big event for me. A big event. I start screaming. I put the hour and the date at the end of the last page. I expect everybody to understand, at least a little. It’s a triumph! The darkness of destiny has been driven back for a brief while. I celebrate. I scream, eat chocolate, and sleep.

Right near the end of writing The Vampire Armand, I realized I had to return to Italy, especially to Florence, and at once I began to make preparations for the trip. As soon as the novel was finished and off to the publisher’s, as soon as it could be accomplished, I flew to Italy. That gave me hope, a way out of a life threatening darkness that often follows the climax of a book. But I still ate chocolate and screamed.

While writing, I don’t want to rest. I don’t want to sleep. Why sleep? It seems stupid, except when weariness overcomes me like a giant cloud of poisonous vapor. Then I sleep fifteen to twenty hours. I tell people to go in and out of the bedroom and ignore me lying there, as if I were dead. I won’t talk on the phone. I won’t open my eyes if I don’t have to. I dream terrible, upsetting dreams.

I want to kill myself. But I can’t. I can’t do it to other people, and I have work that must be done, novels that must be written. So I don’t kill myself. Besides, I don’t think it’s good to kill oneself. It’s a horrible idea. It has a horrible effect even on acquaintances.

I think a lot about people I loved who are dead. I think of how dead they are, year after year, ever more dead.

[specialagentlokitty]

Elijah Mikealson x reader - just one person

Hi! Do you still write for Elijah mikaelson? If so could you write a fic where the reader is a newly turned vampire who can't control their bloodlust and was friends with Elena but after the reader was turned the Scooby Doo gang all kind of ignored her? So Elijah finds them and learns them how to control their bloodlust? With a fluffy ending please 💜 - Anon💜

Sitting on the floor of your room, you buried your head in your arms, hands clutching at your hair, jaw clenched tightly as you tried to fight the feeling inside of you.

You hated it, and if you left your apartment you knew you would act on the bloodlust, you didn’t want to hurt anybody, at least inside with the door locked, your room locked you could stay inside.

You reached for you phone, dialling the first number you saw you waited for a response but you never got one.

It went to voicemail and you threw the phone across the room, shattering it.

They were supposed to be your friends and help you, they were supposed to be showing you what to do, at least Damon and Stefan were, they understood.

Getting up, you threw your room door open, breaking it, and you stood, running a hand down your face, and made your way to the front door, opening it a bit more carefully.

Making your way down the stairs you had to stop, balling your hands into fists, nails digging into your skin causing you to bleed a little.

You were going to find them, you were beyond angry, and hurt, and you wanted to make them hurt the same way you did.

As you were walking, you got sidetracked and found yourself holding someone against a wall, they were unconscious and you felt the hunger growing.

“Now, I’m sure you wouldn’t want to do that.”

You spun around, dropping your victim and you swung your fist only for it to be caught mid air.

Elijah smiled at you, lowering your hand back to your side and he let go.

“This is not the path that you want to be going down (Y/N). I know you’ll beat yourself up over it, and it won’t make it any easier trying to adjust to being a vampire.”

“I can’t help it.. I just… I’m so hungry..”

He offered you a gentle smile.

“I know. I understand quite well what it was like to be a new vampire, that hunger. The fact that you’ve been this way for nearly two weeks and you’ve locked yourself away without feeding is only making it worse.”

“Take it away Elijah.. I just.. kill me if you have to.”

He shook his head.

“No, I can’t do that. Not to you. However, if you allow me, I can help you learn to control this bloodlust that you are feeling, I can show you how we are able to live among humans.”

Elijah reached into his blazer pocket, pulling out a blood bag and he held it out to you which you immediately took to down the contents.

It was a relief to your system to get something inside of it, and you felt some of the bloodlust subside a little bit.

When you were done you looked at him, and he offered you the handkerchief from his pocket so you could wipe your mouth and you put it in your pocket after.

“Come with me, allow me to help you so you won’t hurt somebody.”

You looked at the person who was starting to regain consciousness.

“I’ll handle it, don’t worry. Everything is going to be alright (Y/N).”

You nodded, waiting for Elijah to compel the person into forgetting what had just happened, and he guided you away from the empty street.

He took you back to your apartment and you invited him inside, letting him close the front door as you laid down on the couch.

“I see you have some issues regarding your strength as well.” He chuckled slightly.

“I hate it…”

“It just takes some time to get used to it is all, and a guiding hand to show you along the way.”

Elijah picked up the door, setting it against the wall, inspecting the frame to see if it was still able to hold the door or not.

“Yeah, because people have been doing a great job at that.” You scoffed.

“Your friends have not been helping you?” He asked.

“Apparently they don’t give a shit about what happens with me. I’ve tried calling, texting, even tried sending an email, nothing. They won’t help me get a daylight ring, they won’t do shit.”

You rolled over, facing the back of the couch and you closed your eyes.

“I guess I was stupid to think they’d help… maybe I can find someone to stake me. Least I wouldn’t have to put up with this crap.”

“Absolutely not.”

Elijah turned around to look at you.

“(Y/N), I know what this feels like. How lost you feel, hopeless in fact, as if you have nobody.”

“You got your brother. Your sister.”

“Perhaps, yes. Though I haven’t always had them, believe me I do understand what it is like to be lonely, you can’t live for as long as I have and not understand the feeling of loneliness, the feeling of hopelessness and not being able to have a normal life.”

You didn’t say anything.

“Why did you agree to follow me if you are not going to trust me?”

“I don’t know…”

“(Y/N), I may not be able to hear your heart anymore, but I still know when you are lying to me, you have a tell.”

You rolled over, opening your eyes so you could look at him and you offered him what he could only guess was a shrug.

“You’re the first person to actually speak to me since I turned…”

Elijah walked over, crouching down in front of you and he frowned a little bit.

“If you were going to kill me I guess you probably would’ve by now… I know everybody hates you and all but it’s just nice somebody notices me…”

“You know I’m not all that bad (Y/N), perhaps I have done some bad things yes, I will not deny that. But I will not leave you here to struggle. I can offer you the help you need if you would let me.”

You studied him for a minute.

You knew he was right, it was either let him help you control and learn how to be a vampire or lose control and hurt somebody.

You nodded your head and he smiled.

“Pack a few bags, I will take you away from the town, away from people so you won’t have to worry about hurting anybody.”

So, that’s what you did.

You packed a bag and you left Mystic Falls with him, going somewhere quite so he could teach you how to control your bloodlust and learn to be a vampire.

It was hard, and most of the time Elijah had to start from the beginning but he never once lost his patience.

He had gotten you a daylight ring, and it’s how he was able to find you so easily, because you liked sitting in the sun.

You had missed how warm it was, and the way it felt to just sit there enjoying the peace. 

You were sat on the gravel road, leaning against his car, tossing small pebbles down the drive.

Elijah walked over, sitting next to you.

“You’re doing well.”

“I’m not, I’m doing shit.”

“Considering how hard you’ve found it, you have made a huge improvement, don’t knock yourself down for a small set back.”

“Elijah I threw you through a window, that’s not a small set back, that was pure rage because you wouldn’t let me eat.”

“I’ve been throw through worse believe me, I know you never meant it.”

You didn’t say anything and he rested his head on the car, watching as you threw another small pebble down the drive.

“Will it ever be the same?”

“No.”

You nodded your head.

Placing your hand on the ground you moved around, laying down, you rested your head on his leg, and looked up at him.

Elijah smiled down at you, placing his hand on your forehead.

“That does not mean you can’t adjust.”

You shrugged a little.

“Maybe some things just aren’t meant to be, you know?”

“Perhaps not, and I am terribly sorry for you having to become like us. Though, I can’t say I am all that disappointed about it because I’m not.”

You furrowed your brows a little bit.

“You were dying, you had been attacked, so you remember?”

“Yeah, by a werewolf I think. I think it may have been Tyler but I’m not sure.”

“Yes, well, Damon and Stefan weren’t willing to turn you, so I did. Because you did not deserve that kind of death. If this makes you angry with me I understand, and I do mean it when I say I am sorry.”

You just stared up at him.

“You turned me?”

He nodded his head.

“It’s why I wanted to help you, because I couldn’t just leave you like this and not take responsibility for what I had done.”

“Why did you do it?”

He smiled softly at you.

“Because it was you, I couldn’t let you go in such a way.”

“That’s so corny Elijah.”

He chuckled a little bit.

“Perhaps, but it’s true. They were willing to just let you die like that, not even attempt to ease your pain.”

“Shit friends.”

He hummed, nodding his head.

You closed your eyes, placing your hand on his arm.

You didn’t need sleep, but you still felt tired all of the time, so sometimes you would take quick naps and Elijah just stayed there with you.

He didn’t move, he let you fall asleep there in the sun.

He took responsibility for you being a vampire, but he wasnt going to leave you alone he was going to keep helping you no matter how long it took.

What Elijah wasn’t telling you is that your friends had tried to get in contact with you since you left, but he never passed along any of the messages.

He didn’t want you to be angry or stressed, it wasn’t what you needed right now.

Right now you needed to be relaxed and calm, and you needed someone by your side the whole way to show you the ropes, and he was that person, he was going to keep guiding you down the right path so you didn’t turn up like some of the others.

You were sweet and kind, he didn’t want you to loose that sense of yourself.

He rested his head back, closing his eyes as well.

“Hey Elijah?” You mumbled.

He opened his eyes, looking down at you.

“Yes?”

You smiled a little.

“Thank you…”

“For what?”

You rolled on to your side, grabbing his arm to put over your shoulder, resting your head on his knee.

“Everything…”

He smiled at you, patting your shoulder a few times.

He didn’t know if you had fully processed what he had told you, he was the reason you were a vampire, but for now he’d take the small win, and face the rage if it came later

[livelaughlovesubs]

Nini, what about vampire Fyodor x vampire hunter reader (〜^∇^)〜 like you’ve been assigned to hunt down and bring the head of Fyodor Dostoevsky to uhh.. a king idk.

So you track Fyodor down and instead make a deal with him. You won’t kill him and actually let him feed off you and he lets you fuck him (ゝз╹)

At first he’s hesitant. A well ranked hunter coming to him and proposing a friends with benefits arrangement sounds pretty suspicious, but hearing the offer that you let him feed off you makes him agree since it’s an easy meal and he was planning on betraying you later on.

Thats until he’s bent down on all fours and being pounded like wild animals in heat. The vampire is so touch starved that he can’t handle the pleasure and tries biting anything he can (let’s just say you were left with a bunch of bite marks) After that experience he traps you in his manor and begs you to stay with him, maybe he turns you into a vampire as well

-🍮

I had so much fun writing this haha, and I had to brainstorm trying to fill in some plot holes

Dom!reader x sub!vampire!fyodor

Warning: teasing, pet name (lil’ vamp), pegging (I use dick), a tiny bit of dacryphilia, biting, hierophilia (blood), vampirism, contract sex

Edit: I think I’m based towards fyodor, this ended up so long again-

You were a mercenary, one specified in hunting down those bloodsucking monsters known as vampires. Your name was infamous among the humans and vampire race, known for your amazing methods and efficient execution. Though you don’t care much about fame, the only good things about it is it lands you many missions. Which is why you’ve been summoned to the castle of a faraway country, one that resides close to a forbidden forest.

These mysterious forests are strictly forbidden due to vampires living within them. It’s always dark and quiet in those places, befitting their taste. So you might think it’s alright if people just don’t go into the woods. Sadly something like that can’t be prevented. There are many valuable resources beneath these trees, and everyone is dying to get their hands on those. The price for material from the forest is also really high, and sometimes that’s the only hope for the commoners.

Even though it’s been agreed upon that humans shall not disturb the vampires for they own safety, your client, the king, wanted to raid the forest. He had his eyes set on the wood planted around the mansion of the monster, it had a beautiful dark colour and was very sturdy. Yet out of fear for the power of the entity, he didn’t dare set a single foot into the woods. That’s when you come into the spotlight, he wanted you, the most famous vampire hunter, to take care of this. Once the vampire is gone, he won’t be breaking any rules, right?

This was a common case for you, everyone used you to do their dirty work. That’s the life of a mercenary, disposable and self-destructive.

You walked through the lavish halls of the king, meeting him in his throne hall. He didn’t spare you more then one glance, shouting loud enough for his voice to bounce off the walls, “y/n, vampire hunter. I have an honorary task for you. I want you to bring me the head of the demon Fyodor Dostoyevsky and for that you’ll be greatly rewarded.”

Despite it sounding grandiose and imposing you knew how to stand your ground, asking for the exact amount you’ll be rewarded and an advance payment. The king on the other hand refused to answer, saying he doesn’t want you to run off with the money. What a joke, your previous feats aren’t just for show after all. There was no helping it, that’s life. You swallowed your anger and left, rolling your eyes as you prepared to set off.

The home of that demon was grande, almost as huge as the castle, he sure loved luxury. You circled around the house to secure your escape route before heading inside, the door opened with a climatic creak. What a cliche, does vampires not know how to take care of their home? Without sparing it too much thought, you stepped inside and called out for that monster, wondering why the ruler knew his name. They must have a long history between them.

“Fyodor! Heyyy, come out, do me a favour and make this easy.” You yelled, and soon enough, a shadow emerged from behind you. Before you got the chance to turn around, he mumbled with grace and elegance, “Y/n, the vampire’s greatest enemy. The one who pulled out the fangs of Dracula with your bare hand, and forced him to drink the blood of his comrades.” A shiver ran down your spine at his voice, it was low and pretty, enough to stir something inside you.

“That’s an exaggeration, I never did such things.” You turned around and chuckled, staring into his purple eyes. Before you stood a black haired young man with a puffy shirt and fitted pants. He wore many silver accessories, tons of necklaces hung around his neck. His appearance was very eye-catching, pretty features and pale skin, sickly so. “…but I may have a record of flirting with the enemy.” After seeing how beautiful he was, you decided to indulge yourself, flirting with him.

He didn’t pay your words any attention, instead he continued with his speech, “Mortal children strived to be like you, while we use your stories to scare the kids.” You stopped, a sense of pride engulfing you from the inside. “My, I am quite famous after all.” Fyodor furrowed his brows, as if he’s agitated, then he relaxed his expression and said, “I knew you’d come for me one day. And, I’m dying to try out your blood.” After saying that, he licked his lips before covering his mouth with his hand.

You laughed, catching him off guard. The sound of your voice was annoying, he felt like you were mocking him. Then you teased, “dear, do you really think you can touch my blood?” That was clearly a provocation, you looked down on him. He clicked his tongue, glaring at you. The moment you blinked, he rushed over to you, planning on taking you out with one swoop attack. You dodged him with ease, commenting, “not bad, but is this all?” And he ignored your remarks once more.

Seeing how serious he was, you’ll have to stop the joking soon as well. To be honest you weren’t in the mood for fighting, which is why you suggested, “How about this, fyodor-” “I didn’t give you permission to use my name.” He snapped, showing his fangs. “…then, lil’ vamp it is.” You chuckled, noticing how that pet name annoyed him further. “How about a deal? I’ll spare your life and you can have as much of my blood as I’m able to give you.” His pointy ears perked, intrigued by this proposal. It sounded enticing, but there’s nothing for free in this world.

“And what do you get out of this?” Fyodor asked, keeping his distance. He wasn’t going to heed the rules of a deal anyway, especially when made with a human. “Allow me to be a bit crude, but I want you to sell your body to me.” The boy froze in place, eyes widened in shock and disbelief. Were you aware of the implications of your own words? Was this another one of your mockery, your way of insulting him? “What makes you think I’d agree?” He questioned you, staring at your face with his scarlet eyes, trying to read you.

“I’m simply proposing a deal, you can decline or agree, it’s up to you.” Somehow you managed to sound unbothered and cheery despite the situation. No matter how fyodor wanted to decline, he knew this was his chance. If you fought with him seriously, he would eventually lose. Now, with you giving him new opportunities, he had to take them and put it to good use. “I’ll accept this for now, so, show me how sincere you are.” The demon demanded, and you answered with, “my pleasure, please show me to your room.”

Who would have known a day like this would come, where he got shoved into his own room, pinned to his own bed and humiliated in front of a human. It didn’t take long until you got him bend over on all fours, face pressed into his soft pillows. Any of his attempts to overpower you were futile, because you were physically stronger than him. That allowed you to pretty much manhandle him, denying him access to your neck. Once you got him into this vulnerable position, you didn’t held yourself back, asking him one last time if your deal still stands. After he nodded, you went all in.

Now you were breathing heavily while slowly entering his hole. His rim was tight and didn’t allow you any entrance, but you stayed stubborn, gently pushing your way in. “You are so tight, lil’ vamp.” You muttered, occasionally glancing over at him to see how well his reaction is. “Nghhh…! S-slow down, it hurts!” Fyodor groaned, cheeks flushed red as he realized the situation he was in, and that he never shared such intimate moments with anyone before. “…if I go any slower I wouldn’t be moving anymore.” You tried to reason with him, leaning down to press your body against his.

“HnnGh… t-then pull out…” He snarled, glaring at you while he felt your skin against his back, pressing him down, reminding him of your presence. How did things turn out like this? Why was he participating in such vulgar acts with his greatest enemy…? “Do you want me to? Then you won’t get my blood as well.” You whispered into his ear, licking his earlobe and the earring he wore. “Ha-haahhhH…! No, d-don’t.” The boy gasped, and you weren’t sure what he meant. But he seems to be enjoying himself, so you continued.

His hands gripped the white sheets with all the remaining strength he had, his ass reddened as he struggled to take you whole. That poor guy’s entire body was shivering, shaking as he tried to get used to this pressing sensation inside him. He could feel you stretching him apart, rubbing against his squishy walls. You smiled as you observed his efforts, one hand clasped over his hand as you intertwining your fingers with his. He had sharp nails, you could even call them claws. So you were worried that he’d poke holes into his sheets.

Your other hand explored his body, trailing down his spine with your fingertips, brushing over his body as if you were caressing a flower. “Hmm..! Uh-uhhng..! It f-feels weird..” It tickled him, yet it wasn’t uncomfortable, at least he thinks it wasn’t. Next, you stroke his silky hair before grabbing his hip and mumbling tenderly, “you are doing good, don’t worry I plan on being nice for today.” What do you mean for today…?

Soon, your hips met with his, and you stopped moving until you were sure he was alright. “Good job.” You said, rubbing his blushing cheeks slightly. Then you held your wrist right in front of him, inviting him to bite you, giving him your approval. Without any once of hesitation, he sunk his teeth into your flesh, sucking viciously. He was feeling so weak from your actions, he needed that replenishment. Since he was distracted, you took that chance to start moving again, making sure to take your sweet time. Well, he looked like he’d break if you weren’t gentle with him. He had such a slim and frail physic after all. Just look at his waist, it’s so skinny you fear you could accidentally break him into two pieces.

Fyodor suck on your wrist, mind getting cloudy from the taste of your sweet blood. It tasted amazing, and it made him feel all foggy inside. As if he was getting drunk on it, addicted even. He made sure not to waste a single drop, lips pressed against your skin while he gulped down more and more of your vitality. Apparently he was so distracted he didn’t notice you pounding his cute ass, not until it was too late. You fucked him slowly but roughly, each time you’d thrust yourself as deep inside him as you could, feeling him clench around you so sweetly.

“HnMnh, nghh…” the vampire only whimpered meekly as he sipped your blood contently, feeling pleasure blossom everywhere inside him. You eventually quickened your pace, now rutting into him without any care in the world. It was instantly met with his mewling, a high pitched noise as he screamed in ecstasy. Fyodor couldn’t pull his thoughts together, tongue hanging out as some tears rolled down his face.

Then you pulled your wrist away from him, saying, “that’s enough for now. If you want more, you gotta work hard.” His eyes bore such a pitiful look as he begged you for more, face melting as he moaned around you, some of your blood sticking to his lips. “Ahhh… it felt so good, I-i don’t wanna stop..” he admit, hands shaking underneath you, his primal urges kicking in, infesting his desires and hunger.

“What is it that you want, fyodor?” The way you voiced his name made his knees go weak, tremble even. He panted heavily, trying to fill his lungs with air, to keep his composure. “I-I want more blood… I want your blood.” You smiled, seeing him so desperate fed into your own desires. And you felt like if you denied him any longer he was going to cry, considering his eyes were getting watery already. “Then come here, lil’ vamp.” You told him and wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him closer to you as you sat up, positioning him in your lap.

His first response was to whine as he arched his back forwards, legs turning into pudding as his hands shakily let go of the sheets, now clutching your thighs. “Ah-nGhh.. it’s so- so deep inside me.. it’s so foreign..?” Out of nowhere you turned him over, and he wanted to immediately bite your neck, but you covered his mouth with your palm. “Not yet.” As soon as he understood what you wanted, he wrapped his arms around your neck, bouncing up and down your dick like he was in heat. Your hand was still over his lips, so his moans all got muffled as they seeped through, “mHhnff, HnnGh, hmm…!!”

He rode you with fever and need. On one hand because he needed you and your blood on a carnal level, on the other hand due to him starting to enjoy getting fucked by you. After a while you took your hand away from him, now squeezing his waist with both hands, guiding his movements. Fyodor nuzzled against your neck, pleading with you, hoping you’d let him have some of that delicious red liquid again. “Y/n.. ah-huuHhn~ l-let me fed off you..? P-please..♡♥︎～?” You giggled to yourself, entertained and delighted, duty all pushed to the side as you said, “go on, take as much as you need.”

Needless of say, you two shared a long night together, and somehow, both of you ended up in endless love bites. Ops, what’s this? Oh no, his door is stuck! It must be because it’s so old~ oh no, seems you’ll have to stay at the mansion longer than expected… and his impending heat is coming up ♡

My friend send me this after I told them what I was writing haha

[little-diable]

Unspoken nicknames and lost loves – Dean Winchester (smut)

I crave Dean Winchester as if he's a drug. How insane. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader walked out on Dean and his lifestyle years ago, and yet she has never managed to let go of her love for him. Perhaps a nest of vampires in her town is exactly what needed to happen to bring them back together. Honestly, just pwp.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, mentions some heartbreak and talks about leaving, fluff tho

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (3k words)

Darkness wrapped itself around (y/n), it crawled up her tired body like a snake slithering through Eden, knowing that chaos would unfold soon enough. The stone bench she was sitting on did little to shield her body from the cold night, leaving her trembling as she waited for his arrival. And yet she didn’t even know if he would show, if he had listened to the panicked voice message she had left hours ago.

Her eyes wandered over the rows of endless graves, trying to decipher the unfamiliar names to keep herself distracted. A part of her wondered why she was so sure that he’d show, after years of silence on her end – years of his calls she had ignored, of sober and drunk messages she had deleted. And yet a small part knew that he’d always come when she called, keeping the promise he had made years ago.

Dean Winchester had always been her enigma, the one she found herself clinging to for years, tied to him from her teenage years on, all until the day where she had packed her bag to leave the brothers and their lifestyle behind. A day that had flipped her life completely, luring her away from the places she had called her home for years on end, ripping it all out of her hands because her anxious overthinking mind had gotten the best of her.

And yet she didn’t regret running, at least not from the unstable lifestyle she had never managed to adjust to. But no matter how many years had passed since that day, she couldn’t shake her longing for the man she had once wanted to marry, the man she had hurt more than words could express, the man she expected to find her in moments of desperation.

“A cemetery, how fitting.” Dean Winchester’s raspy voice rang in her ears, forcing (y/n)’s glassy eyes towards his frame. He towered over her, letting his green eyes dance over her features while hers did the same, taking in every inch of the handsome face she’d never forget, no matter what may happen to her.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d come, but I thought this spot was far away enough for you to at least consider meeting me.” Dean sat down next to her on the bench, letting one arm rest behind her back. It wasn’t the first time she was seeing him again after leaving him, they had run into one another every now and then, and yet it was the first time they were all alone, without Sam or any of her friends near.

“You know I’ll always come whenever you need me, (y/n).” The use of her name cut deeper than she thought it would, instantly missing the nickname he had once used, a familiar sound she craved like a starving woman in need of food. She had to avert her gaze for a moment, no longer able to get lost in the eyes she’d always find, no matter how big a crowd may be, lured towards Dean Winchester like two magnets made to fit.

“So, vampires, huh?” She was glad for the change of topic, all too aware of the doubts that began to grow louder, leaving her to wonder if this had been a mistake.

“You know I don’t want anything to do with this, but I knew I had to call you. I’m sure you picked up on the series of missing people around here, the second I saw them killing that woman, I knew you could help.” Her mouth felt dry, struggling to speak about the things she had sworn she‘d keep away from. But no matter where she was, no matter what she was doing, it seemed as if there was no way out of this mess she had once lived through.

“I will call Sam, we will take care of this.“ Dean‘s hand found her knee, softly squeezing it before he dropped it once again, instantly making her miss the soft touch. (Y/n) couldn’t stop herself from smiling at him, allowing her a handful of seconds to properly look at the man her heart was still aching for.

“You can stay at mine for the few days you two will be around, if you want.“ The offer had rolled off her tongue before (y/n) could even have tried to stop it. For a moment, Dean kept quiet, not speaking up while she silently cursed herself for making this even harder for her. But before (y/n) could try to pull the offer back, Dean let go of a soft hum.

“That would be nice, thank you.” A soft smile was shot her way before he rose to his feet, letting his hands disappear in the pockets of his trousers. Both allowed one another to have one last look, giving the moment an almost melancholic touch before Dean parted his lips once again. “Sam will call you once we’re on the way. Be careful, (y/n).”

And all she could do was watch Dean Winchester leave her side once again, taking another piece of her heart with him.

……

“Thank you for letting us stay, (y/n). I’m sure this isn’t easy for you.” Sam had his hand placed on her shoulder, holding her close while Dean was taking a quick shower. She had missed having Sam around, the one she had kept in touch with over the past years, desperate for updates on the man she still longed for.

“I’m happy to see you, both of you.” She didn’t manage to speak another word, didn’t want to dwell on the feeling of regret and anxiety simmering inside of her. All she could do was turn from Sam, focusing on the bottles of beer she had bought, very well knowing that some things won’t ever change when it comes to the Winchester brothers.

“Shower’s free.” Dean’s raspy voice lured Sam from her side, forcing (y/n)’s eyes to Dean who leaned against the door frame with wet hair and clothes that hugged his frame a tad bit too well. With heat clinging to her, (y/n) tried to busy herself with preparing some snack, anything she could do to keep her eyes from wandering back to Dean.

“It’s a nice place you’ve got here.” He plopped down in one of the chairs, shooting her a grateful smile as she reached a beer out for him to take. (Y/n) was grateful that he hadn’t commented on the pictures she had hung up around her place, old memories of her and the two brothers, of shared friends and long lost loved ones. She was grateful that he didn’t tease her about any of them, well aware of the way she had struggled without them close, even though she had been the one who had decided to run.

“It’s enough for now.” His hum rumbled through him, echoing through the kitchen like a cry she struggled to keep bottled in. “So, no boyfriend or roommate you share this place with?”

“Oh come on, Dean.” (Y/n) scoffed at his words while shaking her head. She knew that he couldn’t be this oblivious, unaware of the heartache she had caused them both and still hadn’t managed to overcome. Even back then, when she had left him, (y/n) had known that no other man would ever come after him, after the one she had loved more than life itself, the brightness to her darkest days, the air she needed to breathe. She was choking without him, dying a slow death she was to blame for.

“What? Don’t tell me you haven’t been with anyone, it’s been years, (y/n).” Dean’s words cut deep, dripping with spite. She couldn’t stop her body from turning towards him, from staring at him with glassy eyes that were filled with unshed tears. She wasn’t stupid, was well aware that Dean had been with many women, spending nights or even weeks with them, at least until another hunt called him and Sam away. And yet she didn’t manage to swallow her jealousy, the biting sensation that left a bitter taste on her tongue.

“I haven’t, and I doubt I ever will.” With her back turned towards him, (y/n) kept her eyes focused on the kitchen island she was leaning against, palms pressed flat against the cold material. She had to blink away her tears, unable to stop a few from rolling down her warm cheeks. The sound of his chair screeching rang in her ears, followed by the sounds of his feet softly meeting the ground, telling her that Dean was moving closer.

“Look at me, (y/n).” His hands found her waist, turning her front back towards him. His green eyes were filled with pain, a sensation so strong, it forced a sob right out of (y/n). Wordlessly he wiped her falling tears away while a soft smile played on the lips she had last kissed years ago. “Talk to me, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“It’s so pathtic, god, fuck.” Her eyes fluttered close, she didn’t endure looking at him any longer, needing a few moments to deeply inhale some new air. Dean kept his hand placed on her cheek, holding onto her while silence wrapped itself around the two ex-lovers who clung to one another as if it was their final moment together.

“I know it’s my fault. I walked away, I couldn’t cope with this life. But I left my heart with you, I knew that I won’t ever get to love another person the same way I love you. And for a while I thought I could live with that, away from you and that unstable life. But now,” a shaky breath left her as her eyes flickered back to his. “Now I am no longer so sure about that.”

Dean pulled her into his chest, letting his chin rest on her head while another sob clawed through (y/n). With every passing moment, it felt as if Dean was tightening his grip on her, scared that she’d run before he found the strength to reply.

“You know, I was angry at you for leaving, probably for years. But the older I get, the more I understand it. It wasn’t fair of us to drag you into this, to force you to move around and live without any perspectives while we were both so young. You deserve better and I’ve accepted that. But I also always knew that you were it for me, no other person will ever manage to make me feel that love we shared.” His words felt like another punch to her gut, forcing her through these memories she had tried to drown with the love she had once felt – unsuccessfully.

“I don’t want to let go of you, Dean. I know I have to, but I don’t know how much longer I can live with this pain.” With his hand finding the back of her neck, he pulled her tear-stained face away from his broad chest. She was high on his scent, the comfortable scent she had craved to smell for years. His thumb rang along her lower lip, feeling the bite marks her teeth had left behind while trying to stop herself from speaking up.

He didn’t have to ask for permission as he dipped his head down to kiss her, to press his lips against hers like he had once done numerous times each day. Instantly, she felt hurled back in time, letting herself fall back into a familiar routine as her arms found their way around his neck and his tongue met hers.

Only as the sound of Sam nearing managed to reach them did they pull away from one another. Breathlessly, they looked at one another for a handful of seconds before she turned back towards the snacks and Dean moved towards the chair he had been sitting on.

“So, how’s life around here, (y/n)? Is it as quiet as you wanted it to be?”

……

“Dean?” She mumbled his name as she woke to the feeling of someone slinging their arms around her frame to pull her against a broad chest. (Y/n) could instantly tell that it was Dean, wrapping her in his comfortable embrace as she shuffled around, needing to look up at him.

“I can’t stop thinking about what you said to me earlier.” His confession filled her bedroom, weighing heavy on both their souls. Slowly, she moved her hand up his shirt, letting it rest on his chest while her fingers traced his exposed collar bones.

“I meant it, every part of it.” The heavy exhale that followed her words interrupted their silence, drawing their eyes back to one another. It felt like a deja-vu, happening just like hours ago where he had finally kissed her again after all these years. Their lips melted together, hearts and souls intertwined while he pulled (y/n) on top of him.

“Do you want this? I need you to be sure, sweetheart.” Her heart skipped a beat at the use of his old nickname for her, leaving her dazed while a soft “Yes” managed to leave her slightly swollen lips. Without letting go of her, Dean flipped them around, hovering over her while he got rid of his shirt. He took his time, teasing her for a few moments before he exposed his upper body to her wandering eyes.

Dean allowed her to trace his marks, to explore the skin she had once been all too familiar with, needing a few seconds to adjust once again. But he grew impatient all too quickly, letting his hands disappear beneath her shirt to pull it from her frame. Within seconds his mouth found her chest, kissing their way to her naked breasts.

(Y/n)’s quiet moans were like fuel to the fire, begging him to suck on her hardening nubs while she bucked her hips, feeling his hardening cock press against her covered heat. Nothing could happen now to pull them away from one another, to stop them from what was about to unfold, they were too far gone, set on moulding a perfect mess they never wanted to get rid of again.

“It’s been too long, I need you, need to feel you inside of me, Dean.” She was proud of herself for even finding her words while he kept rubbing himself against her, leaving her bundle of nerves pulsing. His eyes flickered up to hers, filled with a teasing anticipation that shook right through her like lightning striking her body. All while she laid still, with her hands resting next to her as if she was scared to touch him, to mess something up.

“You’re still such a needy girl for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?” With her breath hitched in her chest it felt as if she was drowning, drowning in everything Dean Winchester emanated. He rose back to a sitting position, chasing the distance between them to pull her panties down her legs before he stepped out of his boxers. (Y/n)’s greedy eyes wandered up and down his naked body, thanking whoever was listening for giving her a second chance.

“I want you bare, let me feel you.” She trusted him, knew that Dean would never risk harming her in any way, and yet she didn’t dare look at him while speaking the words that drew a gritty moan from Dean. He found his way back to her, hovering over (y/n) while he dipped his head down to kiss her. The kiss seemed to wake her from her state, letting her hands find their way up his neck to his hair, tugging on the soft roots to wordlessly beg him for more.

Dean brushed the tip of his cock through her slit, spreading her arousal on her skin before he finally sank into her. A loud moan left the both of them in unison, a sound he tried to swallow with another kiss pressed to her parted lips. He gave them a few seconds before he started to fuck her with slow thrusts, enjoying every second of their all too intimate reunion.

It felt like a dream, a surreal experience she was only dreaming about but would never experience in real life. Having Dean oh so close, being buried beneath him while he fucked her with calculated thrusts that made black dots appear in her vision – a dreamy state she never wanted to escape from.

“Look at me, pretty girl. Let me see how good I’m making you feel.” Dean’s teasing words dripped with confidence, leaving her buzzing in heat as her eyes snapped towards his. They held eye contact while his thrusts grew faster, knowing that they couldn’t drag this out even if they wanted to. Too many years had passed, years they had been forced to spend without the other near, years they were now trying to make up for.

“I love you, Dean.” She wouldn’t have managed to stop the words from leaving her even if she had tried to. Words that left him chuckling in delight before he repeated them, making her heart flutter in her chest. A blissful state that only grew more prominent as she sneaked her hand between her bodies to rub her pulsing bundle.

“I want you to cum with me, don’t let go yet, sweetheart.” (Y/n) could only let go of a choked sound while she clawed her fingernails into his shoulders, trying to stop herself from letting go. They kept looking at one another until Dean finally nodded his head, allowing her to let go as his ferocious thrusts pushed them over the edge.

Both moaned in unison as they came together, breathless sounds they couldn’t care about. The blinding sensation felt as if they were burning alive, robbing them of their breath while they were certain that it had never felt this good before.

“I’m sorry for leaving, Dean.” (Y/n) mumbled the words into the darkness of her room. She clung to him as he slowly pulled out of her, only to plop down on the mattress right next to (y/n).

“I’m sorry for just letting you go. I will never be this blind again, sweetheart.”

[deadghosy]

🪓 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑|| 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐗 𝐆𝐍! 𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

Diagnosis: fearing to harm your lover, you drink blood from another. Making the riddle himself feel jealous and angry at how you could think he can’t take it.

Warning: possessive behavior, possessive!mattheo, death/blood/killing mentions, slight maybe, suggestive.

Being a vampire in Hogwarts was and is a dangerous game to play. Especially when you had fallen inlove with a mortal human from a rich Slytherin family. The Riddles. Mattheo Riddle was a Slytherin boy who had taken a liken to your “cold” & “loner” personality. He liked how you kept to yourself when really you were trying not to hurt people.

Mattheo did a slow, and friendly approach. Which slowly but surely turned into flirting banter between you two. Gaining your heart, and gaining your trust after almost a year of dating each other. You finally told him that you’re a vampire. You thought the worst, the worst being that he would tell everyone and break up with you. Only for you to gain the opposite of your imagination. He was supportive and didn’t tell a soul.

But he mostly definitely asked a lot of questions.

But last night, you killed a student. Hungry. You were so hungry you lost control and killed a former Hogwarts student that happened to run into your clutches for it to be a death trap. You were lost in a daze, sinking your fangs into their neck and draining them dry til their life and blood source was destroyed. And gone. You could’ve drunk from Mattheo, he had told you to drink his blood if it was serious. But the thought of harming him made you wanna throw up. You felt terrible, so terrible you didn’t talk at all today. Gaining attention from some students and mostly Mattheo. He walked into your dorm seeing pacing back and forth until you seen him. He stared seeing your slight baggy eyes.

“What’s wrong? You look like you had a crazy night or somthin'” he said jokingly. You stayed quiet before nervously laughing. “Yeah…�� Mattheo stopped laughing hearing that laughter. He heard that laughter enough to know something actually did happen. “What happened?” You immediately tried to walk past him. You felt scared, you didn’t want him to know you lost control and killed a student.

He pulls you by your arm, gripping it slightly as his eyes darken at your nervous gaze. He hated how he can tell that you’re lying. “The fuck happened last night?” You kept avoiding eye contact making him pull your face close to his with his other hand. “What. Happened.” Breaking the last thread that held you in, you started to ramble from the events. Closing your eyes shut you spilled it, “I drunk another person’s blood and accidentally killed them because I didn’t think you could handle me sucking your own blood, and I’m so sorry!”

Mattheo let out a deep breath and let your arm and face go. Feeling a bit guilty at how he grabbed your arm and stated to massage the arm he held. Worried it might bruise. “Darling…it’s okay. I’m a Riddle for a reason. I can handle you sucking my blood. Plus killing someone isn’t a shock to me much.” You smiled at his words. “But.” Your smile dropped looking at his darkened eyes. It was like an empty void as he tilts his head at you. “But I’m yours, and you’re mine. I can’t let you drink some filthy blood that’s not mine.” You gulped as he moved his hand towards your lips.

He uses his thumb to pull your lower lip down, showing your bottom sharp fangs. There was emotion hidden behind mattheo eyes. You felt fear for a little before he leaned into your ear. “Drink my blood baby. Drink it til it make us dizzy together.” And there goes that crazed smile you fell in love with as he withdraws from your ear and looks at you. Completely towering over you. Your heart felt it was going to leap.

“Cmon. Don’t be scared love. I promise I can take it.” He smiles again, but this time his eyes are different. They soften as he undo his tie while keeping eye contact with you. With one hand it came undone. You felt your mouth water at the sight of his naked neck. Mattheo smirked seeing your eyes dilate. He knew that you were now hungry. You inch closer, and closer. Leaning your head, but your consciousness kept telling you that you were gonna hurt him.

“I..I can’t—” “but you can.” Mattheo quickly interrupts you. “I know you can. I know you’re strong enough to know you can’t hurt me. I can handle it.” Bringing his hand and caressing your cheek. You nodded, you trusted Mattheo to tell you if you are hurting him. You bit into his neck.

With a hiss, Mattheo puts his hand on your waist. Bring you closer as you sink your teeth in deeper. Breaking the flesh and sucking in his blood. You could hear Mattheo chuckle lowly, but what you didn’t see was the light blush and euphoric look he had on his face. His low eyes as he grips the side of your waist. You hummed at the delicious iron taste. Filling your mouth while Mattheo let out a small moan. “That’s right baby…drink as much as you can. Drink it all..” he whispers as he lowers his eyes at you. You hummed and finished the last drop you could drink.

Your eyes were glossy when you pulled back from his neck. Licking the bites that threaten to spill more from Mattheo. “Sorry if I hurt you…” you say lowly, embarrassed at how you also feel on cloud nine from drinking his blood. “You didn’t hurt me.” He kissed the temple of your head then wipes your red stained lips. “Didn’t even feel a pinch.” He smiled while you just roll your eyes. “Whatever…”

At least you knew how he feels if you don’t drink his blood.

[athenamikaelson]

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader!Soulmate x Elijah Mikaelson PART 4

Word Count- 3.1k

Warnings- Swearing, spoilers obi.

My fingers graze the texture of my history textbook. My eyes read through each line. Before I know it I’m at the end of the page, and yet I can’t recall a single sentence I had just “read.” I let out a loud sigh and closed the book, placing it back in place on my desk. Ever since the day I got kidnapped this has been a problem. Without being on edge, I can’t focus on school work, the people around me, or myself. Every time I walk by someone I instantly tense up to the idea of them being something supernatural. I know that Elena has told me everyone in town that she knows is a part of that world but she can’t possibly know when a complete stranger is. 

Worrying about who is supernatural isn’t the only thing that’s been plaguing my thoughts, either. All night I was tossing and turning with the thought of Elijah. Damon and Elena knew as much as I did about how he was still alive. Elena had told me that a vampire could be killed with a wooden stake, and yet it had only affected Elijah temporarily. 

“He’s going to destroy you.”

Kathrine’s words ring in my ears. Stefan had told me not to believe a word she says, but given that these people don’t seem to know what the hell is going on either, I’ve let her words get to me. The look of fear in her eyes at the thought strikes me to my core every time I think back to it. If a vampire that is magically locked up is afraid of this Elijah guy, then I sure as hell will be too. 

I jump slightly in shock as I hear knocking on my door, I untense when I hear my mother’s voice on the other side though. 

“Y/N, you have a friend here to see you,” I stand up and open my door to talk to her but freeze when I see Damon standing behind her. His lips curve up into a smirk and moves his fingers up and down in a wave as he stares at me.

“Your friend Damon here is so kind to drop in to check on you. I had no idea you were feeling under the weather.” 

I glance at my mother and fight the urge to roll my eyes. Although we look so much alike I couldn’t be more different from her. Where I actually take the time to listen to people and try to understand people my mother seems to only care about what benefits her. I’m not surprised at all that she hasn’t noticed my change in attitude these past few days since she never seemed to care before. 

She clears her throat at the silence she gets from me, “Well, I’ll let you talk. I have to be going anyways,” She turns to Damon who fakes a smile at her, “I have a work trip this weekend.”

“Work on the weekends, well that’s no fun,” Damon responds with a flirtatious tone that makes me want to gag. My mother on the other hand turns red.

“No worries, I always find a way to liven things up,” She leans closer to him, “Even though it would be more fun with some company.”

“Mom, you should be going now,” I interrupt before I throw up on both of them. 

My mother nods and says her goodbyes to both of us, mostly Damon, and walks back down the hallway. I let out a sigh of relief but then tense up when I realized that Damon had just entered my room.

“What are you doing here,” I watch as he looks around my small room. After my mother and father’s divorce, my mother wasn’t left with very much money so we had to make do with what we could scrounge up. After moving and divorce costs we left with a tiny 3 bedroom 1 bath single story home here in Mystic Falls. It looks like a shoe box compared to the other houses in this town, but I don’t really care since I plan to move away from here the second I graduate. 

“I need a favor,” Damon says to me as he picks up the stuffed frog I have on my bed and tosses it around in his hands. 

“What kind of favor?”

Damon places the frog back on my bed, “Well, after your and Elena’s little suicide excursion yesterday we’ve magically locked her in her house, and I need you Pukerella to go babysit.” 

I send him a glare at the nickname, “If Elena’s locked in her house why do you need me to babysit her?”

Damon rolls his shoulders and walks towards the door, “I don’t need you to do anything. I want you to go to Elena’s and let me know if she plans on calling the big bad vampire to come sacrifice her.” 

“So you want me to be your spy?”

Damon thinks at the question for a moment before shrugging his shoulders, “Ya, pretty much.”

I shake my head, “I’m not going to spy on my only friend.”

Damon lets out an annoyed groan and pinches the bridge of his nose as if this is the most annoying conversation he’s had, “Fine then you won’t be my spy, you’ll be the babysitter I hired for Elena. There happy? Now come on I got other stuff to do today other than arguing with you, people to go kill and stuff like that you know?”

Damon grabs me by my upper arm and practically drags me out of my room and down the hallway toward the front door. He ignores my yells of anger as he opens the door to his car and pretty much pushes me in. I huff as he speeds over to his side and starts the car.

“Oh and by the way,” I slowly turn my head to glare at him as he starts talking, “You might want to get some vervain for yourself and your family. It was too easy getting your mother to invite me into your quaint home.” 

—-

“We could watch Pretty Woman?” Elena asks Jeremy and I as we sit on the couch. Jeremy lets out a loud groan at the question making Elena laugh.

“Guess not,” She flips through some more channels before she lets out a sound of excitement, “Oh! Grease!” Elena goes to play the movie but Jeremy snatches the remote from her hand.

“No way, not happening. I have seen that movie far too many times because of you and Mom. I’m going to decide.”

It takes Jeremy another 10 minutes to scroll through the channels deciding on a movie. Every time he picks one Elena disagrees and they start arguing over it until they start searching again. This has pretty much been what we’ve been doing for the whole hour in which I’ve been at the Gilbert residence. After Damon kicked me out of his car and drove off I’ve just been listening to the Gilbert siblings argue. It’s not that bad though. Jenna, Jeremy and Elena’s aunt, supplied us with snacks a bunch of snacks before she had to leave for something she had to go do.

“Aha!”

I turn to the TV to see what Jeremy picked and cringe as I see the beginning credits for “The Human Centipede.”

Elena’s sound of disgust mirrors mine as she stands up, “This is no use. Y/N do you just want to go up to my room?” 

I glance at the TV again momentarily and nod my head, “Defiantly.”

—

“You’ve got to read this book I just got,” Elena jumps up from her spot on the floor next to me and goes to her bookshelf, “The romance in it is so steamy and the main male character in it is so hot!” She stops and blushes at what she just said.

“Don’t tell Stefan,” She points at me.

I laugh as I bring my fingers to my lips and pretend to lock them, “You’re secret is safe with me.”

Elena and I had been making small talk until I had mentioned that I liked reading, which caught her attention. She had told me she does too and we began talking about our favorite books and genres. To which we found out we’re both fans of romance, jumpstarting an hour-long discussion. 

Elena sits back down next to me and hands me her book. I strum through the pages.

“I’ll make sure to read it and let you know what I think.”

She nods and looks away as if in thought, “I can’t believe we didn’t become friends earlier. Why is that?” 

Her question has me stirring uncomfortably, “Honestly I’m not that surprised. I’m not that noticeable.” 

This comment has Elena furrowing her eyebrows and shaking her head, “You’re joking right,” At my look of confusion she continues, “Of course I noticed you. I mean when you come to a small town like this it’s hard not to be noticed but what I mean is that I always thought you were cool.”

I can feel my cheeks warm up at her compliment and I glance down at my fingers to hide it.

“You thought I was cool?”

“Ya of course,” She responds instantly, “You’ve got great style and you’ve got this mysterious aura about you. I just never approached you because I thought you didn’t like me.” 

Her confession has me looking up and frowning, “Why would you think that?”

She shrugs her shoulders, “You just kind of sometimes look like you don’t want to be approached by anyone. I just assumed. I’m sorry.”

I shake my head at her apology, “Don’t apologize! And no, I never hated you I always thought you were the cool one. I just think I have that look on my face all the time.”

Elena laughs and smiles at me, “OK, good.”

“Good.”

We’re about to start talking about books again when we hear the front door open.

“Jenna must be home,” Elena says as she stands up and reaches her hand down for me to grab. I grab it and pull myself up and we walk downstairs. 

We turn the corner and we both give each other a look as we see Jenna on the ground rummaging through some boxes. 

“Hey. What are you doing,” Elena questions her Aunt.

“Oh perfect timing,” She grabs a cardboard box and hands it to Elena, and then gives another to me.

“Whoa. Oh. What is this stuff?”

“Your mom’s files from the historical society. I got roped into helping Mrs. Lockwood,” Jenna grabs her box and stands up, “And by roped, I mean very excited to participate.”

I silently laugh as I try to balance the heavy box in my arms, the laughing stops though once Jenna closes the door and I lock eyes with the man who’s been haunting my every waking thought. 

“Hey, I’m Elijah.”

Elena and I stand there frozen as we watch Jenna interact with the vampire. 

“Elijah’s in town doing research on Mystic Falls,” She introduces us not knowing we’ve already had the displeasure of meeting. 

I freeze up and grip the box I’m holding tighter to my chest as Elijah walks closer to us. He quickly greets Elena, skating her hand before turning his full attention onto me. I’m visibly shaking right now and it only worsens as Elijah reaches his hands up and grabs the box from my hands. His fingers grazed mine for longer than needed. 

“Here let me take this,” He places the box back down and reaches his hand up to me in greeting. 

We both stand there looking at each other for what seems like forever as he waits for me to shake his hand.

“I don’t like being touched,” I blurt out. Elijah slowly lowers his hand and I might be mistaken but from the look on his face, he almost appeared saddened by that. 

Jenna joins us again telling Elijah that he can stay here and rummage through the boxes, to which he turns down. I try to find the wall behind Elena interesting to keep my line of sight away from the vampire, but I can still sense him staring at me. After another moment he tells Jenna he’s going to have someone pick up the boxes tomorrow and bids Jenna and Elena a farewell. I almost think he’s left us but when I look back over I find that Elijah has moved even closer and he gives me a warm smile and leans down.

“I hope to speak with you again soon, Miss Y/L/N.” My chest starts moving up and down rapidly, which he seems to have noticed, as I nod at his words. He doesn’t seem to get that I won’t be saying anything back to him because he stands there staring at my face. After what seems like a lifetime I watch as he moves by me towards the front door, but not before he lifts a finger and grazes the end of my sweater. 

I watch with bated breath as he shuts the door behind him. Elena doesn’t waste any time before dragging me up the stairs and banging on Jeremy’s door. As she goes to open the door I feel a hand grab my waist and pull me. My back hits something strong and I go to squeal but it comes out muffled as a hand moves over my mouth. I look up and freeze as I stare up at Elena to whom he motions to be quiet. I hear Jeremy open his door but I can’t focus on any of the words he’s saying as I watch Elijah’s face. I make note of the light stubble that runs across his jawline and the practically flawless skin he has. Lucky ass vampires. My staring must’ve caught his attention, as his dark brown eyes meet mine. Once again the corners of his lips turn upwards into a small smile as he watches me watch him. 

Jeremy walking by us catches my attention and Elijah drops the hand from my mouth, but not before leaning down, and what I could’ve sworn was sniffing my hair. Elena quickly grabs my hand and pulls me away from Elijah and for a second I almost feel annoyed at this. Clearly not as annoyed as Elijah though was lets out a snarl, making Elena go rigid. 

“What do you want?”

Elijah composes himself once, “I think it’s time we three at a little chat.”

—-

“Forgive the intrusion. I mean your family no harm,” Elijah tells Elena as he walks around her room.

“Why did you kill those vampires when they tried to take me,” Elena questions him as she comes to sit down next to me on her bed. 

“Because I didn’t want you to be taken,” Elijah says confusing both Elena and I, “Klaus is the most feared and hated of the Originals but those who fear him are desperate for his approval. If word gets out that the doppelganger exists there’ll be a line of vampires eager to take you to him and I can’t have that.”

A cold feeling runs up and down my spine at the mention of Klaus. 

“Isn’t that exactly what you’re trying to do,” Elena questions him again. 

“Let’s just say that my goal is not to break the curse.”

My eyebrows furrow in confusion at the confession. Elijah looks at Elena and then brings his eyes towards me for a moment before turning back to Elena as she begins speaking. 

“So what is your goal?”

“Klaus’ obsessions have made in paranoid. He’s a recluse. He trusts only those in his immediate circle.”

“Like you?”

“Not anymore.”

“An old ass paranoid vampire, how much better could this be,” I whisper out loud to myself sarcastically. I look up and see Elijah looking at me with a small smirk on his face as he must’ve heard my comment. 

“You don’t know where he is do you,” Elena questions but he doesn’t turn his gaze away from me, “So you’re trying to use me to draw him out.” 

Elijah lets out a sigh as he turns his attention back towards my friend, “Well, to do that I need you to stay put and stop trying to get yourself killed.”

He gives her a smile and I have to stop myself from smiling at it. 

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“Well, if I wasn’t being truthful, all your family would be dead and I’d be taking you to Klaus right now. Instead… I’m here and I’m prepared to offer you a deal.”

And the smile was instantly gone. 

This grabs Elena’s attention, “What kind of a deal?”

Elijah stands up and starts walking around, “Do nothing. Do nothing, live your life, stop fighting. And then, when the time is right, you and I shall draw Klaus out together and I shall make certain that your friends remain unharmed.”

“And then what?”

“Then I kill him.”

“Just like that?”

Elijah smirks at her, “Just like that. I’m a man of my word, Elena. I make a deal, I keep a deal.”

“How are you going to be able to keep everybody safe?”

“You know, I notice you have a friend, Bonnie, is it? She seems to possess the gift of magic. I have friends with similar gifts.”

“You know witches.” Elena nods her head to which I fight the urge to say “duh” to. This guy is oldddd, of course, he knows witches. 

“Together we can protect everybody that matters to you.” 

I watch silently as Elijah walks over to Elena and reaches his hand out for her to shake, “So do we have a deal?”

“As long as you keep my friends safe,” Elena looks over to me, “Y/N is one of those friends.” 

Elijah looks over to me and smirks, “Trust me deal or no deal. No one will be laying a finger on Y/N. That I give you my word on.”

I fidget under his intense stare.  

“I need you to do one more thing for me.”

Elijah turns back to face Elena with an incredulous look, “We’re negotiating now?”

Elena tells Elijah she’ll accept his deal if he gets his witches to free Stefan from some vampire tomb he’s been trapped in. Why has no one told me this yet? Elijah reluctantly agrees and they shake hands, cementing their deal. With one last glance toward me, Elijah nods his head and speeds away. 

Elena and I both let out shaking breaths as we stared at each other. 

“Any chance you want to spend the night,” Elena asks me hopefully with a sheepish look.

I nod my head quickly, “My mom is out of town and my brother’s at a sleepover. There’s no way in hell I’m going back to that empty house tonight.” 

[luveline]

Could we please get vampire Sirius? Like maybe he originally lured reader in to drink from her but was just totally enamoured by her because she isn’t scared of him? Love you xx

love you!!

“Do you often accompany strange men to cemeteries?”

You pick a little piece of lint from your sleeve and move on through the gravestones, “Only ones in need. Padfoot! Come here, boy.”

Sirius feels bad for lying to you about his dog that he doesn’t have, but he’s hungry. It’s like blaming a cat for killing a mouse. Nature is nature is nature, and you’re pretty enough to make feeding from you a thrill and a half. He can’t believe you’d been this potent a fool as to believe his lie in the first place — the moon is heavy as a silver medallion in the sky, light like silk pouring over the cemetery, but it is still a cemetery, and you are still alone with him, a strange man you barely know. 

“You should call him more, he’ll recognise your voice,” you suggest, turning to him with a very nice smile, as smiles go. This is the part where he jumps on you and holds you down. But you’re smiling, not a hint of suspicion about you. “You really don’t know what breed he is?”

“He looks like a mixture of every dog on earth.”

“A creature, then. Nice.” You wait for him to catch up with you before you point to a darkened area of the cemetery. Maroon pitch stains the floor, evidence of past misdemeanours. “Ooh, gross. That looks like blood. How many people do you think get murdered in places like this?”

“Definitely a few.”

“Is there even really a dog?” you ask. 

Sirius takes your hand into his. Your hands are almost as cold as he is, your fingers stiff with frigidity. He doesn’t bother trying to warm them, impossible, but he does attempt a seduction of sorts. He likes when his victims are scared; it gets the blood pumping quickly, and it tastes different. Not sweeter or anything so fanciful, but different. You aren’t easily scared, it seems, so he brings your hand to his lips instead for a kiss pressed against delicate knuckles. 

“Why wouldn’t there be a dog?” he asks. 

“There are other ways to get someone alone, you know?”

“Like what?”

“Like flirting,” you say, your shoulders relaxing as he continues his touching, his fingers dancing up the length of your arm and netting behind your shoulder to pull you in. 

“There’s a dog,” he lies, he promises, staring into the innocent pools of your eyes as hunger burns with the ferocity of tears in his throat. “Why? You thought I wanted to be alone with you?”

He leans in, forcing you to close your eyes as he closes his. “You don't?” you ask. 

His gums sting as the razor tip of his fangs slide over his canines, sharp and thing. There’s no room for words now, only action. He kisses you softly, because if he’s going to kill you he thinks he can manage a kinder goodbye, your glossy lips parting at the pressure of his wading. He opens his mouth and yours opens with it, a gasp rushing between you as you feel the sharpness of his fangs and pull away. 

“Ow,” you say, frowning, “you vampires are all the same.”

“We— what?”

“You have no sense of sweetness about you. If you kissed me nicely at first I wouldn’t mind letting you feed on me." You scowl, pressing your pinky to your bloody lip, dissatisfied. 

"You want me to kiss you nicely?" Sirius asks. 

"I thought so, yes." You turn away from him. "Not very much anymore." 

For some reason, the idea that he could overpower you flees his mind. "Now, wait a minute, darling. I'll kiss you very nicely." 

"Sure you will. My lip is bleeding, I know exactly what you're like." 

"Nuh-uh." Something about your lack of fear —he's shocked, but it's hot. Really, really attractive. "Sweetheart, I've been kissing people for longer than you've been alive." 

"Ew." You giggle at him, your reluctance fading. "Okay, fine. But no biting, okay? You can bite me afterwards." 

Sirius grins and pulls you forward, barely caring about the implication of afterwards as you melt into the circle of his arms and kiss him with an ardency he hasn't felt for a few decades, at least. You shiver at his cold hand where it disappears under your shirt, but you smile into his mouth rather than shriek. (He's in love, probably.) 

[s-4pphics]

A/N: me vs writing what i’m supposed to aka moth aka vampire possession aka anyway here’s post santa barbara angst don’t ask questions im not really sure LOL

“You’re back.” 

Determined hands freeze in the dirt, the freshly watered daisies glistening under the beaming sun rays. Your soiled fingers halt all movement at the soft acknowledgment from behind. A sigh leaves your lips. 

“… I am.” 

An exhausted one, and it’s not from your strenuous labor in the garden. Your body refuses to turn, but holes burn in your spine, leaving behind lasered streaks of green. 

“Can you look at me?” Ellie pleads gently. The softest you’ve heard her be in months. 

What she doesn’t know is that you’ve been back. For a week actually, hiding out in other people’s homes throughout Jackson, assisting in places where Ellie’s least likely to go. The garden in particular; Pollen makes her sneeze. 

Time is vital and interesting; Dina left her and Ellie’s farmhouse with her son when you fled Jackson. She sought you out, but you weren’t there. You spent most of your time alone, walking, running, killing what you had to. Searched for peace, internal and external. The sight of the waterfall was worth the months-long trip. Your home is different now. Eerily quiet. The kids you helped teached to read don't play outside or laugh as often anymore. You hardly see Tommy or Maria around. Jesse is dead. Joel is dead. Dina isolates with JJ. Hugs him like she’ll die if she lets go. 

Ellie’s forever changed. The town’s forever changed, and you’ve finally accepted that it’s for the worse. 

“Is listening not enough?” 

Cordiality is beyond you. Spite is evident. Even the flowers can feel it. 

You tried to be patient, to coddle, to mourn and aid and tend. Sacrifice your own wellbeing for the sake of hers. You tried, Dina tried, Tommy didn’t but he did at the same time. Oddly, destructively, but in his own way. You blame him and don’t. Hate him and don’t. He’s violently and permanently scorned, but so are you. So is Ellie. She says nothing from behind you. You rise with a pop in your knees and an upturned lip. 

When you face Ellie, your knees wobble. Scarred: emotionally, physically, mentally. Permanently. Her eyes are more breakable than glass, the shattered hand that displays defeat hid shamefully behind her back. But her cheeks are fuller, no longer the hollow vacancies they were before she left. Maria was always on her back about finishing her meals. 

Grief is complicated. Hurt. Anger. The flowers wilt. Listening isn’t enough, and neither is sacrifice.

Ellie’s nose always twitches when she thinks. Your heart gives a sporadic pulse, but not enough to revive the shell you're trapped in. 

“I don’t want an apology from you.” 

She shakes her head, “I know.” 

“Then why are we talking?” 

Another twitch of her nose. She searches for something. “I—“

But then she flinches away from you, a bent arm coming up to cover her nose and mouth when she sneezes. A painful jerk thrums through your chest, but still not enough. 

“Bless you.” 

One more sneeze, but softer. A bit squeaky. Remnant of when you first met her at 13 and she followed you out to the greenhouse to watch you water the orange trees. 

“Thanks.” 

You nod stiffly. When she doesn’t say anything, you move to leave. Your work is done and she knows you’re back; There’s no point in being alone with her. 

Ellie doesn’t follow, but she does speak. 

“I’m trying.” 

You pause, one foot in front of the other. A doe learning how to walk for the first time. 

“I’m trying to be normal. I’m trying to be okay but it’s not working.” Her voice trembles.

You weren’t expecting a confession. Normal. An interesting use of the word. No one feels that anymore. 

“It probably won’t for a long time.” You state, just as quietly as she, “But if you stop trying, you’ll rot from the inside. If that’s what you want, then fine. But if not… That's all you can do now.” 

“Will we ever be okay?” 

‘We’ means many. ‘We’ means two. Your back’s to Ellie, but you can see her. Unmoving, but frantic. Her mind cranks at a million miles a minute. You feel her eyes on you. Too familiar. 

You’re not sure how to answer, so you don’t. You take one last look at her before you walk away. 

Flowers never look the same the next day. 

[scarlethexelove]

Death Dealer

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ!ᴋᴀᴛᴇ ʙɪꜱʜᴏᴘ x ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1712

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱ!ᴋᴀᴛᴇ, ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ!ᴋᴀᴛ, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴀ ʙɪᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ʙʀᴀᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀᴛᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ ᴋɪɴᴋ, ꜱᴛʀᴀᴘ-ᴏɴ ᴜꜱᴇ, ʀᴏᴜɢʜ ꜱᴇx, ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ ꜱᴇx, ��ᴀʀᴋɪɴɢ, ʙɪᴛɪɴɢ, ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ᴅʀɪɴᴋɪɴɢ, ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ ʙᴏɴᴅ, ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ.

ᴀ/ɴ: ꜱᴏ ɪ ᴅᴇꜰɪɴɪᴛᴇʟʏ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴡᴀʏ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀꜱ. ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ ʟᴏʀᴇ. ɢᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ᴀ ʙɪᴛ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴛ. ɪ ᴍᴀʏ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʀ ʟᴀᴛᴇʀ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ʟᴏʀᴇ. ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ!ᴋᴀᴛᴇ. ᴀɴʏ ᴡʜᴏ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

A body presses up against your back, hands laying firm on your waist. Normally you would pull away from strangers but your girlfriend is late so you figured why not have a little fun. With the hands on your hips you sway together to the rhythm. Your arms stretched out above your head as your hips sway and grind back into the girl behind you. 

“You’re really beautiful.” A low and sultry voice says in your ear over the music. You can feel her hot breath as it fans over your neck sending a shiver down your spine. 

“So my girlfriend says.” You have to yell a little over the music. The interaction with the girl becomes a game. You know Kate won’t be happy but what’s the harm. 

“I don’t see anyone here.” Her grip tightens on your hips pulling you flush against her. 

“Mmm she’s late but she won’t be happy to see this when she gets here.” You smile to yourself. 

“I can take her.” You can’t help but chuckle at the girl's confidence. 

“I doubt that sweetheart but I would love to see you try. The only reason I’m letting you so close is because I want to make her jealous.” 

The girl behind you growls but before she can speak again you feel her body being pulled away. You turn around and see Kate holding the girl up off the ground with one hand by the collar of her shirt. “Why are you all up on my girlfriend?” Kate's voice comes out rough. The girl looks at you and you shrug your shoulders, a smirk playing on your lips. “Don’t look at her, look at me.” Kate demands of the girl. Her head snaps to look at Kate. “Don’t you ever touch my girlfriend again. Don’t think I won’t kill you.” Kate’s eyes flash a vibrant purple making the girl in her hold tremble. “Do I make myself clear?” Kate’s voice is dangerously low which only stands to turn you on. The girl furiously nods her head and Kate lets her go. As soon as her feet hit the ground she is running out of the club.

Vampires are known to exist but they are few and far between. So when a vampire reveals themself to a human it is normally used to instill fear in them. You cross your arms across your chest and roll your eyes. “Katie what was that for?” 

Kate stalks closer to you gripping your hips. “You’re mine Y/n. What was that hmm? Being a slut for what?” She growls out. Her stair and grip are unrelenting on your body. 

“I was just dancing and she came up behind me. I told her I have a girlfriend.” You tell her nonchalantly. You want to play into this. Enjoying how much it gets on the nerves of your girlfriend. 

“I saw you grinding up against her. Hmm you want my attention sweet girl, is that it?” Her voice is low, and your resolve crumbles. 

“Y-yes.” You stutter out. Kate has this ability to combat any thoughts of bratting out from you. You never seem to make it very far with her, but you don’t entirely mind that either. 

Kate’s eyes darken as she releases your hips and grabs one of your arms dragging you through the crowd of people. You’re honestly surprised none of them stopped for the whole confrontation, but they’re all probably high on drugs or drunk. She pulls you through the crowd towards a side fire exit. She flings the door open pulling you outside. 

The alleyway is dimly lit with a light that flickers. Surprisingly, it isn’t too dirty along the brick walls. You can barely see the sidewalks from where you two are. 

Before you know it Kate is pushing you against the brick wall across from the door. Her solid body flush against your back. You can feel the undeniable bulge pressed against your ass. You can feel her cold breath fan over your ear. “You want to whore yourself out, I'm going to show you exactly who you belong to. Let them all know that you are mine.” You feel a gush of arousal at your girlfriend's possessiveness. 

Kate pushes your skirt up around your hips. She grabs the waistband of your panties, pulling and ripping it. You shiver as the colder air meets your wet folds. You can feel as she breathes in deeply. “ You smell so fucking good sweet girl.” A shiver rolls down your spine. You push back into her wanting her to hurry up. “Already so wet for me and I haven’t barely touched you. Such a perfect little whore for me aren’t you baby.” 

You nod vigorously. “Yes Daddy.” You breathe out. “Please.” You whine as Kate keeps a strong hold on your hips. 

“Hmm do you deserve my cock baby?” You whimper and nod. 

“Yes please Daddy. M’sorry for letting that girl touch me. I’m all yours.” You plead with the Vampire pressed against you. 

Kate smirks at you. “I love when you beg for me.” She takes pity on you stepping back slightly before pulling her pants and boxes down in one swift motion. You feel as the strap slaps against your ass. You can’t help but grind back against her. 

Kate lines the strap up with your entrance before thrusting herself fully into you. You let out a choked moan. She doesn’t give you time to adjust to the stretch as she starts jackhammering her hips into yours. You have to brace yourself against the wall so your face doesn’t scrape against the wall. Small little rocks from the brinks dig into the skin of your palms. The pain mixes with the pleasure. 

Your moans bounce off the walls as Kate thrust her hips into yours. “Fuck.” Kate grunts. Her fingers digging into your hips sure to leave bruises behind. She pulls herself back just far enough to watch as her strap disappears inside of you, a moan tumbling from her lips at the sight. “This pussy was made for my cock.” She punctuates each word with a thrust. 

“Da-Daddy so… good.” You pant as you try keeping yourself up as your legs start to feel like jello. The bricks continue to dig into your palms starting to cut into the skin with her rough thrust. A whimper escaping your lips from the combination of pain in your hands and the pleasure in between your legs. 

What you don’t see behind you is Kate’s eyes flashing purple as she smells the blood of your palms. An animalistic desire burning inside of her. Her fangs popping out. She leans forward scraping the tips against the sensitive flesh of your neck. You let out a moan as she sucks harshly on your skin and her hips speed up. 

Kate starts to litter marks across the skin of your neck and shoulders. Leaving reddish purple marks behind, covering your skin. “Mine.” She growls against your neck. “Only mine.” She lets her fangs sink into the sensitive flesh. Blood pours into her mouth as sucks at the wound. 

“Ah-ahhh.” You whimper. Feeling as Kate drinks from you for the first time. Her inhuman strength holds you tightly against her as she thrust hard into you. She continues to drink from you as she brings you closer to the edge. Your head gets fuzzy from loss of blood and overwhelming pleasure. “Daddy, too-too much.” You whine.

Fangs retract from your neck as Kate licks over the blood drops from the wound. “Sorry baby I can’t help myself when you’re so delicious and all mine. No one will ever touch you again.” She mumbles against your skin as one of her hands moves from your hips up around your neck. She wraps her hand around your neck and squeezes lightly. The other hand moves down your stomach and swipes through your folds finding its place on your clit. She pushes down eliciting a scream that is trapped in your throat from her grip. “You’re mine now, pretty girl.” 

Kate had explained before that if she were to drink from you and doesn’t kill you that it would form a bond. A bond that is unbreakable unless one of you dies. She is just as much your as you are hers. A bond that is not formed often.

“Ye-Yes Daddy yours.” You moan as you push back, meeting her thrust. Your body feels on fire as the bond connects you and the pleasure builds. The knot tightens as it is closer to snapping and you falling over the edge. Your walls tighten around her strap as her hand tightens around your neck and she circles around your clit. “Please.” You breathe as you feel about ready to fall over the edge. 

Kate angels her hips perfectly, hitting that spot deep inside of you with each stroke. “You wanna cum like my pretty little whore? Coat my cock with your cum hmmm. Do it. Fucking cum on my cock.” Her voice is low, dripping with desire. 

Your body trembles in her hold as she squeezes your throat and rubs your nub. Your walls suck her in as your orgasm washes over you. Your hands reach anywhere you can, grabbing at her. A moan squeaks by as you coat her strap in your cum. “Fu-Fuck Daddy.”

Kate continues to rut her hips into yours riding you through your orgasm. Your legs giving out under you, her strong arms keeping you against her. Her hips come to a slow stop as she kisses any part of your skin that she has access to. “Good girl. Such a good girl for me.” She mumbles against you. You hum as you lean back into her. “I love you so much Y/n.” 

“I love you too Katie.” You pant slightly. 

Kate pulls her strap out of you slowly so as not to hurt you. She pulls her boxers and pants back up, tucking the strap back in. She grabs you and tosses you over her shoulder making you squeak. “Time to continue this at home. I’m nowhere near done with you.” She slaps your ass that's hanging over her shoulder as she walks you two out of the alleyway.

[slowlyoats]

The Lost Boys: What they like in other people

Marko

- creativity

- Absolutely HATES the idea of blending in

- Hence why his jacket is so different from his brother’s jackets

- He’s drawn to creative people who outwardly express their creativity with their appearance

- This is why he loves the board walk!! There are TONS of people who dress originally and In an unapologetic way

- I think one of his biggest struggles with being a vampire is that he can’t be outside during the day, and it’s not because he misses the sun or the warmth, it’s because thats the time of day people are usually outside creating wall murals, doing chalk art, painting landscapes.

- He misses interacting with those artists

- So, if he is at the board walk and just so happens to see someone set up with an easel, painting the lights of carnival rides, you BET that boy is going to introduce himself

- And find out everything there is to know about you

- And try to convince you to stay in Santa Carla forever with him

Paul

- Music taste

- Paul is a music snob

- He will totally judge a person based off the music they listen to, and will, on many occasions, choose his victims based off their poor music taste

- His favorite place on the Boardwalk is the record store

- It’s run by this older lady who shares Paul’s love for music

- He goes in at least once a week to say hi, and discuss music with her

- I feel like her name is Gretchen, but Paul insists on calling her Gretch

- He usually sits behind the cash register and talks to her in between customers

- And if it’s one of those nights where Paul can’t sit still, Gretchen makes him unload boxes in the back room and set up any new displays

- She LOVES to play matchmaker with Paul

- Because she is the only record store around, she knows the music taste of most people who live in Santa Carla

- So she try’s to find Paul a date, by matching up his music taste with a regular’s

- This usually doesn’t work out, but she LOVES to try

- *whispers* “look at her Paul! Isn’t she lovely?? And she listens to Motley Crüe!”

- He went on one date that Gretchen set him up on, and it didn’t end too well….so he swore he would never do it again.

- Let’s just say that the girl smelled a little TOO good and he couldn’t stop himself from having a taste

- He cares too much about Gretchen’s companionship to ruin it with him loosing control and eating all her customers

Dwayne

- kindness

- The boys don’t get shown a lot of kindness because…you know…they kill people and stuff

- But that doesn’t mean they don’t have feelings!!

- Dwayne might be the silent, stern type, BUT if anyone shows him the tiniest bit of kindness this man will become your devoted follower

- He may be a vampire, but he remembers what it was like to be human, and how easy it is to be selfish and just plain mean

- He also remembers that kindness is a choice

- And the kindest people tend to be the strongest

- Being kind to him is one thing, he might keep an eye out for you on the boardwalk in case you find yourself in trouble, or change your tire if you get a flat.

- But

- If your kind to Laddie?

- Maybe he got lost and you helped him find his way back to the boys? Or bought him a ice cream? Or maybe even helped him reach an arcade game he so desperately wanted to play?

- Oh boy.

- You just found your self a guardian watch dog angel. Trust me when I saw NO ONE will lay a hand on you or look at you the wrong way EVER and live to tell the tale

- And if you just so happen to be his type?

- Well, I hope you like Santa Carla because you won’t be leaving

David

- courage

- He admires someone who can stand there ground

- Who can get in the face of a surfer nazi and tell them where they can stick it

- Who won’t put up with Paul and Marko teasing them, and will dish it right back to them!

- Who won’t be intimidated and has no problem telling him and the boys “no” with a smile on their face

- Someone who doesn’t give a flying you-know-what about what anyone has to say to them about hanging around him and his boys

- Their confident in their decisions, even the bad ones

- When offered a drink from that sparkly bottle they give him a wink, and take a huge swig!

- And PROMPTLY spit it out all over their prized poster, because like HELL will you be tricked into doing anything you don’t want to do

[gothsoyl]

vampire!rio vidal x reader

✧. ┊ rio has been a vampire for hundreds of years, if not thousands. she has seen nations rise to the top and burn down in search of their own greatness. she has seen the deaths of billions of people, with the blood of millions on her hands. she stopped being surprised by anything, but... then you appeared.

✧. ┊ initially, rio didn't think too much – you were just another victim, just a piece of meat for her. she killed so many young girls that she stopped feeling anything, but there was something strange about you. probably your desire to serve.

✧. ┊ you joined the rio’s household as a maid – her palace was huge, but it was so empty and cold that you felt uneasy at first, and memories of all the horrors that people told in the streets, when it came to the vidal estate, began to pop up in your head.

✧. ┊ you needed money and a roof over your head, so you weren't picky. the manor was gloomy, except for the fireplace in the living room, and the furniture was covered with dust. of the inhabitants of the house, there were only two old women, servants, and an equally old watchman.

✧. ┊ you saw the owner of the estate, rio vidal herself, only after a week of your stay here. she was pale and tired – it seemed a little more and she would collapse from dehydration. you immediately approached her with a desire to help, but instead she pinned you against the wall and clung to your neck with sharp fangs. you wanted to scream, and tears immediately sprang from your eyes, but not a single sound left your lips. you froze, and then completely lost consciousness.

✧. ┊ you woke up in the living room. head was buzzing and body was in pain. you couldn't really move your neck, but you noticed her right away – lady vidal was sitting in a chair opposite you, lazily turning the pages of a book. she no longer looked so painfully pale, and there was a sly smile on her lips.

✧. ┊ “you don't have to get up – I'm going to have a second dinner now,” her voice sounds like honey and you don’t argue. just lay there and stare at her as if fascinated. she's threatening to kill you, so why not try to escape?

“do you rarely eat?” you don't know why you asked, but you've clearly attracted attention to yourself. lady vidal immediately looks at you, and her eyebrows knitted, “I can help.”

“why do I need your help, child?” a logical question. the woman slowly gets up from her chair and takes a few steps towards you, stopping only in front of the sofa on which you’re lying.

“you’re starving. give me a day and I'll find food for you,” your voice sounds even quieter than before, and your neck hurts unpleasantly from any sound.

“and what do you want in return?” bingo. lady vidal is interested, or is having a dialogue with her dinner out of boredom.

“a place to stay”

✧. ┊ you kept your promise – once every couple of days you started bringing a human to the estate, listened for ten minutes as they kicked under the onslaught of rio and entered the room to clean up the mess. you helped kill people, so why didn't it bother you in any way?

✧. ┊ but it also happened that rio invited you to her place, and you didn't hesitate – you gave her a taste of your blood. it still hurt, but rio found a way out. her hands slide over your bare body, her lips press against your neck, and soft moans escape from your mouth. her fingers persistently stroke your crotch before entering inside, pushing the warm walls apart with a squishing sound. and only when your breath catches from the sensations of her finger, which moves so rhythmically inside, she bites your neck. your back arches and you hug her, scratching her back and exposing her neck even more. she growls back, burying her fingers deeper.

✦✧✦✧ it's worth helping with the murders for that ✦✧✦✧

[theeoriginals]

“It was- not love at first sight, but familiarity. Like, oh, it’s you.” With Klaus or Elijah please! Something to make me feel better while I do this awful assignment 🥲

deep breaths | elijah mikaelson

pairing: elijah mikaelson x reader (no y/n!)

warnings: noneeee this is just sweet

author’s note: i wrote this at work on my phone just now so sorry if it’s not the best <3

The thing is, Elijah Mikaelson has lived many, many lives. He has had so many names, faces, stories, and voices he can hardly remember them all at this point. That, he supposes, is just part of the curse of immortality. Esther likely didn’t think that far ahead out of her grief when she turned them all into monsters. She didn’t think to consider that she wasn’t saving herself anymore loss, she was cursing her children, leading them to damnation and then blaming them for what she did.

Elijah would likely live another thousand years before he was able to fully comprehend all of the tangled, contradictory emotions that came with vampirism. A gift and a curse, like most things.

What he could for certain say was that he’s loved just as much as he’s hated. He would even argue that you can’t possibly know what it means to hate someone unless you loved them before, unless you still loved them. And although he believed that, he was not someone to give second chances often. At least not to anyone besides his siblings— though that was a different beast altogether.

Elijah knew that even if he hated someone, someone else could love that person just as much. He’d seen it often enough, felt betrayal in his gut like a stake to the heart.

Love, in all of its glory, was not often kind to Elijah.

So whenever his siblings found it necessary to tease him for being so uptight and closed off, he did nothing more than roll his eyes, because it was much easier than telling them that he was scared. Truly, deeply, in his ancient bones, he was scared. Not of love itself, but of the continuously growing sense that he would never truly find real love. And perhaps it was entirely too human of him to think that way, and perhaps it made him weak to some, but Elijah knows that his brothers and sisters more than anyone crave love just as much as he does. He knows they feel it just as deeply as he does, that want in their bones that rushed through their blood, the want for someone to just come in and never leave.

It’s hard to find that when you outlive most people. Harder than one might think, even if you fall in love with an immortal being. It’s not just that he’ll outlive most everyone he could fall in love with, either. It’s that every time it seems he’s done it, he’s fallen in love even knowing it won’t last but letting it happen anyway, it doesn’t— it doesn’t fill that void inside of him.

It doesn’t flood his mind and his body, it doesn’t fill him with life, it doesn’t make him want to breathe.

Elijah doesn’t have to breathe, but he wants someone to make him feel like he has to.

For the past thousand years he’s fought and won and lost, and he’s done his best to keep his family alive despite everything they do to drive him insane, despite the fact that they try to kill each other more than anyone else. He has been holding his breath for a thousand years, fighting and fighting and fighting. He wants to exhale.

He can’t explain this to his siblings. They would understand, he knows, but it’s something he’s never said out loud to himself let alone anyone else. Saying it out loud makes it real, and he can’t— he can’t admit it. When you are drowning, when you are holding your breath, you don’t realize you’re drowning for a long time. And the moment that you do, you realize that you can’t breathe and suddenly you’re gasping for air and you’ve all but killed yourself.

Elijah can’t admit that he’s drowning.

He sighs loudly, and it’s not an exhale and it doesn’t lift that weight off of his shoulders. It’s an expression of his annoyance with his siblings, because this far into their collective immortality, all they live for is getting on each other’s nerves.

And here at Rousseau’s is the last place he wants to entertain their petulance. You never know who could be listening, and Elijah really doesn’t want anyone less than favorable to hear about his love life, or lack thereof.

“I wish you’d just bring someone home to meet us at least once!”

“I wish I could go out and have a drink without being harassed by you people,” Elijah says moodily.

Rebekah pushes her bottom lip out in a pout and widens her eyes in a way that has always gotten her anything she wants from anyone ever. Elijah is, in fact, very aware that he and his brothers have worked overtime in making her as ridiculously spoiled and entitled as she is and yet he still manages to be surprised when she behaves like this.

“We aren’t harassing you, Elijah, we want you to be happy. Is that so wrong?”

He sighs again and closes his eyes for a moment before opening them again and fixing them on Rebekah and Klaus. “It’s not wrong. But I don’t know what you expect me to do about my lack of prospects, it’s not like the perfect person can be conjured at whim.”

Klaus lifts a finger and Elijah knows that he’s going to say something ridiculous before he even speaks. The gleam in his eye never bodes well for anyone. “I bet we could find a witch to do just that. We could compile all of your wants and desires in a partner and get a witch to mix it all together for you. Problem solved, Elijah has a soulmate!”

Elijah gives his brother a deadpan look. “Is this witch Victor Frankenstein?”

Rebekah snorts in amusement, and Elijah dutifully ignores it.

“Be creative, Elijah! Open your mind,” Klaus swipes an arm out dramatically, sloshing his drink over the side of his glass, splashing a few drops of bourbon onto Elijah’s suit jacket.

Elijah’s lip curls in distaste and he gives his brother a look of disdain that goes ignored.

“I have an open mind, what I don’t have is an open schedule,”

“You are not as busy as you like to believe,” Rebekah drawls out, finishing off her own drink. “Your life will never change if you don’t go out and do something different! You’ll be stagnant forever, and I do mean forever, brother,”

“I will never be stagnant with your dramatics, Rebekah,”

She rolls her eyes at his avoidant response. “Your love life is stagnant. I don’t even think stagnant is the proper word, it is downright nonexistent. It is extinct.”

“Thank you, Rebekah,”

“Even if you have a sleazy, completely forgettable one night stand, you need to do something. You’re constantly dealing with us, you need to focus on yourself!”

Elijah pours the rest of his bourbon down his throat, barely tasting it as he swallows. “Maybe if you did less idiotic things that I have to deal with I’d have a more active love life. And truly, I’m not sure why I’m being lectured when you two are the furthest thing from romantically successful.”

“I have a child, I’m plenty romantically successful!”

“She was conceived during a drunken one night stand with a werewolf who is now married to someone else.”

“The details don’t matter, I have a child to show for it. I have a father’s wisdom now, you should listen to me!”

Elijah raises an eyebrow. “Unfortunately, I am not part dog and therefore am actually incapable of reproducing much like you thought you were. And considering the trials and tribulations we went through with Hope, I can’t imagine I’d have any better luck in my own venture to fatherhood.”

“You’re being purposefully obtuse,”

“That doesn’t sound like me,” Elijah simpers, gesturing to the bartender for another round for them.

“I have a challenge,” Rebekah cuts in before Klaus can continue their bickering, and Elijah narrows his eyes at the determined gleam in her eyes.

“I don’t like this,”

Rebekah dismisses him with a flutter of her fingers. “The next person to walk through that door, I want you to go and talk to them. You don’t have to have a one night stand, you absolute prude, but you need to speak to someone that you’re not related to, and that isn’t trying to kill you.”

“Rebekah—”

“I don’t want to hear it. Just do this one thing for me, for your darling little sister,”

“My darling little sister—”

“Shut up, look! Someone’s walking inside, get ready to go be your charming self,”

Elijah groans and turns to look at the door as it opens and someone walks through. He sighs again, weighted, empty, scared.

When he lifts his gaze, though, he finds a woman. He takes her in— eyes, nose, lips, hair— and thinks beautiful.

The bar is as crowded as ever, no breaks in sight for the bartenders and waiters, and he’s tucked away at a table with Klaus and Rebekah in the back corner because they are particularly antisocial and Klaus really just wanted to use this outing as a way to remind everyone that they are still here, and that New Orleans is still theirs. The exit is across the room, Elijah has not paid much attention to the distance at all, and yet now.

Now, the crowd of people in between him and the door is frozen and endless. Elijah’s standing before he realizes, and it feels like he’s stepping around the people frozen mid-laugh, mid-drink, mid-bite, because the world has stopped just long enough for him to cross the room.

He parts the crowd and stops before her, eyes roaming over her face. Committing it to memory and vowing to keep it there for the rest of his eternal years.

She looks at him with a smile, blinking at him slowly like she’s got all the time in the world. There’s a necklace sitting on her chest that has a familiar blue stone hanging off of it and he inhales sharply.

He thinks vampire, perhaps a coincidence but things rarely are for him and it’s something new to think that she is immortal, too, of course more fragile than an Original but if she’s smart, and he knows that she is, he can feel it, then she’ll last just as long.

“Hi,” She speaks first, and the world starts up again, the noise comes back and people unfreeze. Now that he’s stood here before her, the world can keep spinning, but it had to wait— it just had to wait for him to catch up.

“Hello,” He responds quietly, too quiet for the bar, but she hears it anyway. “I’m Elijah.”

Her smile widens and she says, “I think I knew that already,” and then she tells him her name and Elijah repeats it for himself, and then for her, and then he turns it over in his head a hundred times over so it never gets lost.

She tilts her head slightly, looking up at him. “Were you trying to leave? Am I in your way?”

“No,” He responds quickly, almost rushed. “Not unless you’re leaving, too.”

She seems pleased at his response and the longer he looks in her eyes, he thinks he’s found a new favorite color.

“I’m not leaving,”

Elijah exhales, and the weight is gone, and the void is no more. And he thinks— oh.

There you are.

[heliza24]

I want to talk a little bit about Daniel in the Interview with the Vampire show, because the new trailer material has me stuck thinking about him, and also I’ve never written about how meaningful he is as disabled character to me before.

I don’t see many people thinking about show!Daniel in these terms, but he’s a canon disabled character. And I think the way he is written is just SO good. The acerbic wit, his relationship to doctors and his medication, his rueful acceptance of the way his disability has changed him. It is all so correct!! It’s really incredibly rare to have not only a disabled character written this well but specifically a chronically ill character written this well. His illness is always present; it doesn’t get forgotten about by the story. It gives Daniel insight into the vampires (more on this in a min), but it also gives Louis and Armand leverage over him. When Louis triggers his Parkinson’s symptoms? Deeply not ok. But that’s what made it such a great scene, and really made Louis feel dangerous and threateningin that moment. Armand and Louis arranging Daniel’s meds is a sign of great care and also great power over Daniel. It’s the perfect way to communicate the complicated power dynamic in their relationship.

I also just fucking love that this show takes place in 2022 and doesn’t erase the pandemic. Covid is a very present concern for Daniel and I cannot describe how validating that is for me as someone who is clinically vulnerable to Covid and who has had to really limit my life and take a lot of precautions because everyone else has decided to stop caring whether they pass on Covid or not. The fact that Daniel gets on a plane to Dubai is a BIG DEAL. He’s risking his life to talk to Louis and Armand before he’s even in the room with them. He really wants to be there. I have to make a similar calculation every time I travel, and trust me, getting on that plane knowing getting sick could spiral you into even worse health or kill you is really hard.

I think making Daniel disabled and including the pandemic is kind of a genius level decision on a thematic level. Of course Daniel is now facing down his mortality, which gives him a whole new lens on the vampires and the fact that he once asked them to turn him. And the pandemic further highlights his fragility, and is also possibly being used as a cover for drama that’s happening in the vampire world. But I think it also really sets Daniel up as a foil to Louis.

There’s a lot of analysis of the vampire chronicles that reads vampirism as a metaphor for queerness. But I would actually propose that it’s a much neater parallel for disability and illness in a lot of ways. So many of Louis’s initial experiences after being turned resonated with me, as someone who became chronically ill in my 20s. My appetite and relationship to food completely changed, much like Louis. My relationship with the outdoors and the sun changed, because of dysautonomia and allergy reasons. I was very mad, and very depressed, and I too have missed out on birthday parties and big life events like Louis did because I was too sick to go. Hell, you can even say that the way that Louis is treated as evil by his family, that the way vampires literally can’t be a part of society during the day, is reminiscent of ableist exclusion and ugly laws. (Ugly laws were laws that forbid disabled people, especially those with visible differences, from being out in public, and they were on the books in many American municipalities until the 1970s.) You can look at Lestat being an out and proud vampire in the first few episodes on the season and imploring Louis to leave his shame behind as a queer thing, but you can also view it as a disabled thing. Disabled people are portrayed as monstrous so often (and in a way that has gone relatively unexamined compared to say, the queer coded villain trope) that sometimes it’s just easier to embrace that label: I’m the monstrous Crip, but at least I’m not ashamed of or disgusted by who I am anymore.

I do think the real strength of this adaptation is that while you can find parallels between queerness or disability or other forms of marginalization with vampirism, ultimately it’s not a one-to-one parallel. It speaks to the real world but ultimately it is a gothic horror story about supernatural monsters. So I don’t mean to say that vampirism directly equals disability, because it does not. But I do think that making Daniel disabled was an intentional choice to help draw out some of those parallels, and I think the text is richer for it.

So Louis and Daniel have had these kind of parallel experiences of uncontrollable and difficult things happening to their bodies. It sets them up perfectly as foils, and even, I would argue, as the A plot and B Plot protagonists. This is one of my favorite ways of kind of examining the structure of a TV show (or maybe it’s that most of my favorite shows seem to be structured this way?). When TV was all episodic, it would be common to refer to the A plot (mystery of the week), B plot (interpersonal drama happening as the mystery gets solved) and C plot (any overarching plot tying the season together) in an episode. Now that stuff is serialized, there’s often a main protagonist, who has the main dramatic question and the most agency, and then there is often a secondary B plot that explores similar themes and mirrors the A plot, or presents a second main character who is the ldifferent side of the same coin” to the main protagonist. (My favorite example of this is Flint and Max in Black Sails, and I’ve also made the argument that Wilhelm and Sara fit this pattern in Young Royals.) In IwtV, Louis is obviously the main protagonist of the show, especially in the A Plot, which is the stuff taking place in New Orleans/Paris. But I would argue that Daniel is the protagonist of the B Plot set in Dubai. At the very least they’re intentionally set up as mirrors of each other:

They are both unreliable narrators, who are struggling with the way memory contorts (through memory erasure, illness, deliberate obfuscations, and just the passage of time). The most recent teaser trailer, where we hear Louis saying “I don’t remember that”, with panic in his voice, further underlined this similarity between Louis and Daniel to me. I don’t know if it means that Louis has also had his memory tampered with, as I’m assuming Daniel has, but I do think it means that Louis is going to be struggling with feeling out of control of his own narrative more in season 2, a thing that was already starting for Daniel in season 1.

They are also both locked into power struggles with people more powerful than they are. The fact that Louis is under Lestat in the flashbacks and above Daniel in the Dubai scenes in terms of power/status makes it all the more interesting. And, if we want to go ahead and assume that the Devils Minion’s years have happened in the past by the time we get to Dubai— it’s possible that both Daniel and Louis are united in being the less powerful partner in their own respective fucked up gothic romances.

They’re also both the audience’s entry point into their respective stories. Louis’s narration guides us into the world of vampires. Daniel’s questioning satisfies our human curiosity in Dubai.

I think one of the things that makes the show so special is the way that these two protagonists interact. In a lot of shows the a plot and the b plot stay pretty separate. I love talking about Black Sails for this because I think it’s such a good example; Flint and Max never exchange dialogue the entire show, even though they’re so clearly affecting each other the whole time. But the way that Louis and Daniel clash in Dubai is so exciting. We see them both wrestling for control of the narrative. It’s thrilling to watch and it just hammers home the theme of how complicated and changeable stories can be.

I am SO excited to see how the Dubai scenes play out in season 2 because of it. I really can’t wait. I’m really hoping we’ll see Daniel and Louis’s relationship evolve in surprising ways, and I’m holding my breath that we’ll get a lot of Armandaniel material to work with. (I have a whole other post drafted that’s much less smart than this one and is just me waxing poetic about Devil Minion’s theories which I may post at some point. You have been warned.)

I do have two wishes for Daniel in the new season, and they’re 1: that he gets to have romance/sex, because disabled (and older!) characters are so often seen as unworthy of being desired, and I would like to see that challenged and 2: that he continues to refuse to be turned/is not offered a vampiric cure for Parkinson’s. The magic cure for a disability or chronic illness is probably my least favorite disability trope, because it serves to erase disabled characters and representation from the narrative, and I want to see my experiences continue to be reflected in Daniel’s. That means that whatever ending Daniel’s story has will probably have at least a bit of tragedy baked into it, but I’m ok with that.