#pre canon
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everything stays
#but it still changes#mdzs#mdzs fanart#mo dao zu shi#grandmaster of demonic cultivation#wen ning#wen ning fanart#lan sizhui#wen yuan#wen qing#wen siblings#ghost general#post canon#pre canon
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get a room guys come on
#red dead redemption 2#rdr2 fanart#rdr2#art#digital art#arthur morgan#dutch van der linde#hosea matthews#john marston#dutch x hosea#illustration#artists on tumblr#van der linde gang#vandermatthews#pre canon#vandermatthews wednesday
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Betrayal :<
Gortash and Karlach, sometime a decade ago.
(Baby Karlach without all her scars and tattoos and metal implants… 🥺)
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#karlach#bg3 fanart#fanart#enver gortash#gortash#karlach cliffgate#pre canon#pre bg3#10 years prior#headcanon
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Some more pre-canon doodles!
Alternative title: Katniss and her blondies :)
#hey look colored sketches#in my head district 12 everyday school clothing is akin to mid 20th century school fashion#i always liked the idea that the wrestling competition was some school event#and katniss pretends she doesnt notice but madge is like hmmmm#my art#thg#mine#artists on tumblr#sketch#doodles#katniss everdeen art#katniss everdeen#peeta mellark#madge undersee#primrose everdeen#everlark#pre canon
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Mia’s new assistant: Phoenix Wright!
NEED a game where we play as Mia Fey and Phoenix is Mia’s stupid weird assistant;
BUT! he’s still a college aged Himbo.
Mia dealing with the horrors beyond comprehension, about to lose her mind after her client is the equivalent of Milo Murphy and almost dies 15 times:
Phoenix: Don’t worry Mia! We can do this probably!
#ace attorney#phoenix wright#mia fey#ace attorney au#feenie wright#feenie#pre canon#ace attorney investigations
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I never blamed you for loving me the way you did.
Lestat De Lioncourt x reader
Summary; Lestat De Lioncourt had a wife once. And a beautiful life. Until he lost everything. Warnings; fail marriage, blood and injuries, vampire sex, character deaths, suicide, self-hatred, penis in vagina sex, creampie, sex as a coping mechanism, child loss, grief and mourning, ANGST, hurt no comfort, BISEXUAL Lestat de Lioncourt
Word count: 11,181
(Pre-canon)
Lestat had spent decades on this planet. He had known thousands of people, been to hundreds of cities, lain with both women and men. He had fallen in love, once upon a time. And he had known loneliness. He knew it even before he was turned into this vile creature. When he had to spend his days in his cold bed as a little human child. As his father and brothers torture toy, his mother’s suffocating burden, when had to spend days in Satan’s dungeon with the dead and the undead, waiting for his final day see his god for the first and last time. The nights he prayed to God to spare his life and how his prayers turned to pleadings for his death. He begged it to be quick and painless. He wanted his mother’s comfort that he never knew. He wanted to go back to church and attend the sunday service with the people of his small town. He wanted to hold cross one more time and feel the love of Christ in his bones.
He thought about God and Jesus and his mother when Magnus nearly ripped his neck open with his sharp fangs one night. He drank so much that Lestat thought he saw a bright light in the corner of his eye. He felt his soul slip away from his body and the lightness wash over him. It was a comfort that he never felt in his entire life before. Not when he used to lay beside that tree on the hill and exchange glances with the pretty looking shepherd boy as the warm breeze danced with his own blonde curls. Not when he fell asleep with that beautiful daughter of the baker by the river, naked, arms wrapped around one another, his head on her chest, listening to her heart beats.
He had tasted blood for the first time when Magnus pressed his bleeding wrist to his lips. Lestat started to drink. He had no idea why he was drinking. It was an instinctual command coming from his body, from his very existence. He felt life come back to him. But not his soul, it was gone. He felt his flesh harden like rocks and the colour drain away from his rosey cheeks of humanity. He felt Magnus’s blood flow trough his veins, fast and burning. He felt the warmth in his chest. His fingertips hurt with the sharp nails that grew in seconds. His eyes were sore and when he opened them again, the bright colours made him dizzy. He could hear everything and everyone. He could feel everything at once. He wanted to die. He wanted to beg Magnus to stop playing with him and let him die peacefully. And he was alone one more time when Magnus died in the flames, in front of his eyes. He smelled his burning rotten flesh. Dying like him disgusted Lestat.
Over time his yearning for God’s love turned into grudge. He wondered why God let him turn into this blood thirsty monster. Yes, that was what he was. A monster trough and trough. And no one would dare to love a monster like him. Even tho the monster would love anyone in the purest way possible if he was given chance.
And he did. Lestat loved Nicolas. As much as he could at least. Nicki was a troubled man since the first moment Lestat laid his eyes on him. He thought that being with him and having countless adventures could change him and plant seeds of happiness into soul. But it didn’t. He hesitated turning him into a vampire when Nicki was begging him to do so. He could sense the consequences of doing it. But spending centuries with the man he loved convinced Lestat. Nicki sinked into his dark thoughts more. His violin played with sadness and sorrow more than ever. Lestat felt his darkness in himself. He could not hear but see Nicki’s feelings in is empty looking eyes. He felt the guilt filling his heart as his first love was turning into someone he didn’t know. Armand’s presence wasn’t helping at all.
Lestat never thought about being loyal to his spouses when the world was full of fruits in different shapes and colours and tastes. There was so much to explore in his infinite life time. Armand was a capturing thing. With his eyes looking into his soul and reading him like an open book. Armand was offering so many things to Lestat that no one ever could. He yearned for the care and affection from Armand. He wanted to drink from him, lay with him and taught by him how to survive, live with the nature of a vampire. But being with Armand in front of the eyes of Nicki pushed the poor boy into madness more and more every passing day. Lestat was hungry but not for the destruction of the ones he loved.
He left Paris with his mother. He had left Nicki and Armand and the theatre. Only to receive the news of Nicki’s death. He fell onto his knees when they sent his violin to him. He touched the places where Nicki’s fingertips traced over. And he played it for the last time to feel his lover again. It didn’t matter if he was feeling Nicki’s love, rage or sadness. He only wanted a piece of him. His lips trembled when he played his favourite melody. The melody Nicki would play for Lestat after the moments they spent in each others arms, tasted one another and explore the corners of pleasure. He remembered that fearless little boy that he met with back in the day, when they were both humans. He remembered the shy glances of Nicki when he was looking at Lestat’s eyes, lips and every detail on his face. He remembered the moments they danced together and his mother would sing for them. He remembered their last happy moments. Tears of blood flowed down his cheeks and stained his white shirt.
He was alone again when his mother left him. He felt unlovable. Even his own mother couldn’t stand his presence. How could anyone in this world would love a man like him? By that time he had forgotten how it felt like being close to god and feel his love. He knew that God left him when he was turned into a seed of devil. He wanted to scream and shout and tell God that he never had a chance to choose. If he could he would choose God over everyone and everything without a second thought. Therefore Lestat knew believing in something higher and more powerful than you was a great comfort and happiness a man could ever have.
He traveled for years after his mother left him. He wondered around the countries, saw humans kill one another, cheat on one another, trick one another and destroy one another. He saw that it was not only him that was hungry for something he couldn’t name. Then his bright greyish blue eyes found the figure of a little human being in the crowd, dancing with a beautiful smile on her face. His eyes watched you for the whole dance. He heard your fast breaths, how they go trough your delicate nose and reach to your lungs that were still fresh and youthful compared to his rotten body. He saw the drops of sweat sliding trough your temple, your hair damp and the braid crown that was about to fall off. He heard your laugh, full of life and joy. He saw your skirts fly off as you tap your feet on the floor with your human strength. Your dance made him smile. His smile widened as you kept dancing and laughing. He felt like he never saw something or someone more alive. He felt a warmth in his chest. So different from the one felt when he first drank Magnus’s blood. It was type of warmth he felt when he was still human, when he had fears of a human and desires of a human.
He took you into his arms as you were still dancing. The dance floor was crowded as you felt his hands on you. You turned around and saw the most beautiful pair of eyes that you ever saw in your entire life. It felt natural to be in his arms, to be close to him and smiling at him. Lestat looked into your eyes as both of you danced trough the song. You didn’t want this song to ever finish. His body was pressed against yours and it felt like you were the only ones in the dance floor, in the world. He felt your gentle hands on his arms, going to his shoulders. It felt tingly and he realised how much he missed this human feeling. He laughed when you accidentally stepped on his feet and his laugh sounded more beautiful than thousand melodies that you ever heard. Which musician could ever write a song that sounded like his joy? Who could ever be the inspiration and make any musician to write it?
You watched his blonde long curls shine under the colourful lights. The thought of running your fingers trough his curls sent shivers down your spine. Lestat shook slightly when he heard your thoughts. You didn’t think about laying with him right away or take advantage of things that he might offer you. You only wanted to caress his hair. Something his mother never did. He closed his eyes and leaned down to your neck. The flavour of your blood filled his nostrils in seconds. He felt dizzy and wrapped his arms tighter around you. You felt his lips ghost over your skin and you had to hold onto him.
“Wait for me, ma cherie.” He whispered and you opened your eyes. Your arms were on the air, hugging no one. You felt coldness wash over your burning cheeks.
“Wait for me.” You heard his voice again. You turned around but he was no where to be seen. Your hands held your long skirts and put the strands of hair behind your ear. People around you kept dancing as you walked out of the dance floor with shaky legs.
Lestat watched you for the rest of the night from far afar. You didn’t dance again or laugh. You sat down, sipped on your drink, answered question when they were referring to you and looked for him with curious eyes. He felt sense of pride in his heart. Not because a mortal girl was mesmerised by him but because it was you that was mesmerised by him. You were not his prey of the night. He could fill that place with someone anytime, anyone could be his meal tonight. No, you were meant to be alive, and you were meant to be by his side.
For eight long weeks he watched your every step. He watched you wake up every morning, have breakfast with your family, attend your daily lessons, sew with your lady friends, read your books by your window and think about him. He could hear your sweet dreams about him, even when he was in his house. You were waking up everyday, hoping to see him somehow. You thought about telling your mother many times. Maybe she would’ve known about that otherworldly lord that attended the party in the gambling club. He watched you blush like a cherry in summer when one of your mother’s friends pointed out that you were zoning out and getting lost in your thoughts pretty often, just like a young lady in love would do. Your mother laughed it off as you kept your eyes on the floor and your thoughts on Lestat.
He watched you go home that day. Slip away from the heavy layers of your dress, undo your beautifully braided hair and lay on your back on the bed. Your room was lightened by the few candles on your desk and nighstand. He could hear your heart beating fast as you pictured his eyes again and again. Oh how beautiful he was. As if carved by God himself carefully within the image of an angel. You could feel that weird, tingly sensation in your stomach when you remembered his lips on your skin. Lestat smiled softly as you drifted into sleep thinking about him. And he was in your room. He walked to your desk first and looked over the poetry books you were reading, and the some poems you tried to write. A little poet i have hear, Lestat thought.
He walked to your bed. His hands traced over your neck to your chest and lastly to your stomach. His touch was so soft and light, he could feel you hardly. But he could feel your warmth so clearly. He could feel it even with just being in your room. He tried to remember the last time he felt the warmth of humanity in him. Nearly two centuries. He sat on your bed and looked at your sleeping figure. You looked so peaceful. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to sleep for night without all those memories haunting him? He listened to your heart beats for a moment and the way your eyes were moving slightly during your sleep. He leaned over you, to your neck. He inhaled deeply as his lips were close to your skin. For a moment he feared that his cold lips would wake you up but you didn’t open your yes. Your blood made his mouth watery. He was so hungry. For blood yes, but he was hungry for something more. Something that could make him feel alive after two centuries of being dead. Something that would make his heart beat faster with excitement again.
He wondered if God was looking down at two of you in that moment. If he was, would he let Lestat to defile one more of his human children? If yes, why? Wasn’t it both torture for Lestat and them? He had the blood of thousands on his hands. And there was no soap or water in this world that could wash it away from him. He was carrying all his victims within himself. They were in his veins, staining his fangs.
He laid his body on top of yours slowly, gently. His broad shoulders blocked your eyes and his legs trapped you between them. Your eyes opened wide with the pressure on your stomach. First you could only see darkness, then you felt a cold hand against your cheek.
“Don’t be afraid, mon cœur.” He whispered. Your fast breathing calmed in seconds. He looked down at your face and your gaze met with his own. You looked divine under the moonlight, under him. The way your eyes were still half open, in the grasp of sleep. And the way your cheeks were flushed with shyness and excitement. But not fear. His eyes found your lips lastly. Your lips that were slightly open, sucking in little breaths, looking all soft and warm. Lestat felt your hardened tetes peaking trough your nightgown, pressed against his tough chest.
You saw his bright blue eyes go darker with lust and his teeth grow into sharp fangs that only a wild animal would have. You felt his sharp nails digging into your skin and make you bleed. You both hissed as his fingertips got covered with your blood. He snarled just like an animal as the smell of fresh blood surrounded his very being. Your body trembled and you held onto his arms tightly
“Are you going to kill me?” You whispered. You did not feel horror, or rage or sorrow. You were only exited as he held you in his arms. Lestat smiled softly at your question. He pressed his nose against your cheek and inhaled your scent one more time. Your humanly, sweet smell made him dizzy. He felt an unfamiliar sensation down below his stomach.
“No, I will give you life. Better than the one you have.” He said and bite down your neck. First thing you felt was a sharp pain that made your neck go numb. You could not move, rather dare to move. It felt like if you moved, the pain would get worse. Lestat let his body go and laid on top of you fully, giving his whole weight. You opened your legs and welcomed his slender figure. And for the first time in decades, Lestat felt like he was home.
The wound that his fangs made on your neck started to burn when he licked and played with it with his tongue. The tears filled your eyes as Lestat laid his head on your neck. He kept drinking from you, slowly, taking little sips with the tip of his tongue, still breathing in your scent. His arms were wrapped around you and you could feel him all over you. He felt himself harden against your hips. He had to do it. He had to put an end to his loneliness.
He slashed his wrist with his nails, deep enough for him to bleed. Then he pressed his wrist against your lips. Your slowly closing eyes opened up at once as the strange taste of blood hit your tongue. Lestat shifted his position to open up the breaches of his trousers. He watched you drink him up hungrily as he lifted your skirt up to your waits. You felt his cold fingertips tracing over your bare stomach and thighs. His blood tasted sweet. Sweeter than the liquors you tasted in the balls, sweeter than the sherbets in the centre of the candies you ate, sweeter than the tropical fruits that your father bought very rarely.
You felt your whole body burn in need, in lust. You felt the buzzing sensation in your brain and your ears ringed. You pushed his hand away and pressed your lips against his own. You had to have him. It was a primal instinct that made you think so. Lestat held your back and positioned himself against your leaking entrance. Your warm walls welcomed him. You were sweet, warm and wet. In that moment it felt like it was all he ever needed. You tasted each other’s blood on your lips as his tongue explored your mouth. The he pushed you back and pressed his wrist back onto your lips. He wanted you to drink, cure your thirst and hunger with him.
He thrusted into you hard and deep as you kept drinking and drinking. He had to tend to you, he had to care for his fledgling. You were his. From head to toe, you belonged to him. Magnus had never claimed him as his own. His mother had no maternal instinct for him. He belonged to no one in this entire world. Nicki was in his own little world despite the love Lestat gave him. And Armand would never belong to anyone. Oh but you, you were perfect for him. Your walls tightened and it drove him over the edge. He ripped his arm away from you and held your face. You whined in need for his blood. His length went deeper and deeper into you as your shaky breaths hit his face.
He heard your heart sync with his own as he looked into your eyes. Your face was covered in blood as you moaned in pleasure. Lestat wanted to get lost in you. He wanted to be buried in you. He spent himself in you with one last thrust and felt your walls tighten more than before as you choked on your breaths and held him tight against you. He looked down at you and saw your thighs and his pubes sticky with blood. I had claimed her in every way possible, he thought.
He let you lay back down as he laid himself on top of you. You tried to catch your breath and he laid his head on your chest, between your breasts. Lestat kissed your skin, his lips left marks of blood on you. Then he felt your hands in his hair. Your fingers played with his lose curls that was ruined when he lost himself in pleasure. He felt your fingertips caressing his forehead and temple, gently, softly. You were still gentle with him even after what he did to you. His shoulders relaxed under your touch and he let out a shaky breath. What was he going to do now? He should’ve ask you before turning you and prisoning you into darkness. How he was different from Magnus when he just grabbed you like a piece of meet and drank your essence of life just to replace it with his rotten, blood of death?
“My family will think I coupled with the devil.” You whispered as you kept caressing his hair. Lestat’s breath hitched in his troath. He looked up to you under his lashes. He looked like a scared little boy in this light. A little boy that feared the monsters under his bed, scared of his father’s rage, scared of life and death. The tears of blood filled his eyes as he looked into your eyes. He saw the bright colour of your irises that matched your new nature. He nodded as he agreed with your statement.
“You have.” He said quietly as he avoided your eyes. He heard your small chuckle, felt his arm move as your chest rised up. You were still so calm. Maybe you were in shock after what he did to you. Poor girl, Lestat thought. I have driven one more innocent into madness.
“How come devil is so pretty then?” You asked as your fingertips trailed around his eyebrows. He stopped frowning with your touch. Then your touch continued to his eyes. Then to his nose. You caressed his straight bone. Finally your fingertips reached to his lips. Your hand brought grace to his well shaped lips. He planted a small kiss to your fingers.
“I never knew devil would look so perfect.” You whispered. As if even you couldn’t believe what you were saying. But Lestat heard you. He heard you so well that he received your compliment as a sharp pain into his heart. Growing up he had always heard that he was a pretty boy. Many of his lovers had said so even after his humanity was ravaged. But he couldn’t see anything but a monster when he looked at himself in the mirror. He had a attraction for violence. He couldn’t feel fulfilled if he didn’t kill. And he couldn’t satisfy himself if he didn’t hurt.
“You don’t know what I am. How can you say I am perfect after what I’ve done to you?” He asked his his tears started to spill from his eyes. You caught them before they could flow down his cheeks. Your small, soft smile remained on your lips. Lestat thought that he never seen someone so beautiful. He was surrounded by your smell, your beauty and compassion. He was covered in your blood and you were carrying his blood. He felt himself warm next to you. Centuries of coldness in his chest was replaced with your smile. He could feel your body calling for him, desperate for his touch and taste. There was a soreness in his troath. He wanted to scream it out.
“You have bewitched me.” You said, almost like a confession. His sharp gaze found your eyes immediately. Lestat’s tears kept spilling from his eyes as he laid his head on your chest again. He stayed in your arms who knows for how long. How could he let you go know? When you were calling him perfect, even after seeing his blood thirsty animalistic side, touching him with love and passion, carrying a piece of him in you, opening your arms for him without a question and accepting him as he is?
The next time Lestat knew loneliness was the hardest time.
You were a great companion, lover and a wife for him after the night he had you in your room, in your bed of youth and innocence. You were a brave little thing that was ready to face an army for him. He felt like the luckiest man alive when your laughs echoed trough the walls of your home. After decades he was finally living, sleeping in a house that he called home. He tried to taught you french but you were impatient and often ran away from his grasp to play his favourite melodies on the piano. He couldn’t get mad at you and watched you for hours as you played, looking at him for the whole time with a big grin on your face. He bought you the finest dresses in your favourite colours, had beautiful jewellery made for you. He loved making you happy more than everything in the whole world.
You were getting into an excited hurry every time you two decide to host a party in your home. People of your city were adoring both of you as a couple. You were so cheerful that there was no room people didn’t smile and the place didn’t lighten up as you entered. Men and women considered themselves lucky if you danced with them. But Lestat knew your first and last dance always belonged to him. Your heart and soul belonged to him. He didn’t know how many nights he pressed his forehead against yours, smiled like a teenage boy in the bliss of love and lifted you into air as your skirts flied behind you and your laughs filled ears of fortunate mortals. His heart was syncing with someone that loved him deeply. And he was so full of love, that he couldn’t remember the times he had lost himself in darkness.
He would have children with you if he could. If he was still a human. He would love to raise a boy that looked like you and a girl that looked like him. He had imagined the picture many nights as he closed his eyes in his coffin, his arms wrapped tight around you. He could see them running around the house, laughing beautifully like you. He could see them growing up and having their own lives as he grew old with you. I was so close to have a life, he thought after every single time he dreamt. The thought brought him sorrow. But he had you. It was more than enough for him.
Lestat met with your family when you two decided to get married. Your parents loved him. They called him a great gentleman with knowledge and culture. A husband fit for my daughter’s hand, your father said. But as the years went by and you still didnt have children or added wrinkle over there and there, your family sank nto silence. The letters became lesser and lesser. By the last letter, it was a dry piece of paper with few words written on it. No feelings, no longing or great love of your mother. You two attended the funeral of your father as he passed away after 15 years of your marriage to Lestat. Your mother’s eyes filled with tears and hatred as you watched your father getting buried. Lestat held you as you fought so hard to keep your tears back from spilling. You could see everyone’s eyes on you, examining you with fear planted in their heart, convinced that you are no longer the girl they knew. You tried to approach your mother and got blocked by cousins and other relatives.
“Tell that devil to leave my poor girl's body and find someone else to be the servant of satan.” You mother’s harsh voice made you step back. And Lestat could hear your heart shatter into pieces. He knew her words were referring to him. How many times I will hear the same thing, phrased differently? He thought. After the funeral you refused to leave your bed chambers for days. You didn’t eat even if Lestat hunted for you. You refused to sleep either. As the sun rose from the east and Lestat closed his coffin, he could hear your muffled cries in your own coffin. You couldn’t get yourself to sleep with him. You couldn’t get yourself to face to world. Your mind kept drifting back to the times you were with your family and how much they loved you. Lestat never wished something as much he wished to hear your thoughts and take your pain away. If he could, he would take all it of to himself. He was used to be in pain since he knew himself. But seeing his sunshine fade away was like tying his hands and feet and abandon him to starve to death.
After days, you left your coffin for the first time. Lestat’s bright eyes scanned your body head to toe. All he could see was a hungry vampire that was broken. Your under eyes were purple and your skin was paler than usual. The veins under your skin was showing trough. You could barely walk and talk as he held you in his arms and carried to the living room. Your hands fell to your thighs and he fell to his knees in front of you. His eyes were filled with concern and fear.
“Ma cherie, you need to eat something.” He said as he tried to make eye contact with you desperately. But your eyes were avoiding him by all cost. Your lips parted and some whispers left your mouth. Lestat leaned closer to hear you.
“It’s you.” He heard you say. He frowned and his mouth opened but nothing came out.
“I don’t understand.” He said quietly after a moment. You looked like a mess in front of him. And he wanted nothing more than pulling you back into his arms and never let you go.
“You never did.” You said as you finally made eye contact with him. “You are the reason of my current state.”
Lestat felt your words form into a dagger and stab him on his heart. His stomach dropped and he fought the urge to get away from you. He wanted to step away and take one more step away and one more… Your eyes were looking at him differently. There was a feeling he never felt from you before. Hate.
“You made me what I am and you ruined me.” Your voice sharp and your eyes full of bitterness. You collected all your strength to get up but it was not enough to keep you standing. Lestat held you gently before you could fall. Then he felt your sharp nails scratch him and rip his hands away from you.
“Don’t ever touch me.” You hissed and crawled away on the big sofa. Lestat’s eyes could not leave the empty space that you used to sit. He could hear your heart beating fast and he could almost taste the poison in your words you spoke out and you were going to speak out.
“You put me in a prison that I will never be able to leave. No matter what I do.” You said. Lestat looked over you and saw the tears of blood flow down your cheeks. Your fragile figure broke his heart repeatedly. He came in front of you on his knees and tried to hold your hand but you pulled away again. He sighed and did his best to hold his tears back.
“It will get better. In time everything will feel less weird and more normal. You will embrace what you are.” Your eyebrows lifted and a cold smirk appeared on your lips.
“And what is that? A murderer? A sinner? A cursed woman?” Your voice raised with each word and Lestat moved away. He turned around to avoid your eyes and words. His left hand found the corner of the window to lean down and his right hand covered his mouth. Muffled cries left his lungs as he shut his eyes tight.
“You will carry this feeling for the rest of your life.” You said and your presence left the house in seconds. Lestat did not move from his spot as he felt you going away from him. Your heart beats faded away in the night until he couldn’t hear you anymore. Me and you both, he wanted to say.
8 years.
He didn’t see you for 8 years after that night. He knew you were out of the city, far away from him. He called for you every night for a year at first. He screamed your name in darkness, hoping desperately that maybe you would hear and answer him. But you didn’t. Once his voice became hoarse, he wrote letters to your family. But got nothing back. Was it still possible for them to take you back after everything? Your mother couldn’t look at you and your siblings had nothing but fear and disgust in their eyes when they glanced at your direction. You were truly all alone in the entire world. You had no one but the person who trapped you into loneliness.
Lestat wandered around the city for days, searching for your scent, your gentle figure. You were no where to be found. He stopped going out after some time and trapped himself into his house. His coffin was full of pictures he could find of you. For nights he stared at your smiling face, frozen in those moments of happiness and joy. He missed your smile. He craved for you in every way possible. The house felt like a grave and his good old friend, the coldness was back. The memories of his youth started to haunt him one by one as he laid in his coffin during daytime. He could not find sleep when your side of the coffin was all empty.
He thought about his life before and after Magnus. He wondered if he would have a good life still if he wasn’t turned into a vampire. The thought of not meeting with you sent a gut-wrenching pain to his stomach. You’d be centuries apart, in different lives and countries. The picture of you marrying a decent man that your family found for you, wear a wedding dress for him, have his children, raise kids that looked like you and some man, have fights and love making nights with him, grow old with him and hold his hand while you greeted by the merciful arms of death made him tear up. He felt his heart pound painfully fast in his chest. A sob ripped from his throat and this time he didn’t cover his mouth. The guilt ate him from inside out. The honeymoon was over and now, he had the face the fact that he stole your whole life, your one chance of being alive, only for him to take your love for himself, selfishly and hungrily.
As the days turned into weeks and weeks urned into months, Lestat started to lose his hopes of seeing you again. Once again he was assured that no one could love a man like him. He didn’t want to stay in the house that use to be the home to two of you. Every corner was you and he couldn’t finish a day without thinking of the times you had spent together. But the small chance of you coming back made him stay. If you wanted to come back, you would love to see everything same and your husband waiting for you, Lestat told himself in the moments of doubt.
And one day you opened that door and came back. He was in the music room when he heard your heart beats. He felt like the time had frozen and his heart skipped a beat. His fingers on the piano stopped, his lips twitched with longing and tears formed in his eyes. When he saw you again, standing in front of him, beautiful as always, he wanted to get on his knees in front of you and beg you to forgive him for what he did to you. Then his eyes found the little body of the human boy in your arms. The child was maximum 4 and he was shaking uncontrollable. His blonde hair was dump on his forehead and weak breaths mixed with moans were leaving his mouth. Lestat didn’t need to be doctor to know that the boy was in great pain. And perhaps fear.
“He is going to die.” You said and hearing your voice after years made Lestat break down. He had to turn around at the doorway to hide his tears.
“Help me. Please.” Cracked noise from your sore throat was heard in the room. The boy was clinging to your dress, like a little lamb. You walked towards your husband as you held the little child tighter.
“Please save him. For me?” Lestat didn’t know if he was feeling grateful that you were back, guilty for his mistake or angry because you only showed up when you needed something from him. He looked at the boy. He was cute little thing with blue eyes like ocean and long blonde lashes that framed his doe eyes. He saw his clear tears run down his face as he coughed. An innocent, Lestat thought. An innocent dying in the arms of the woman I love.
“You can turn him. I don’t know how to. But you do. Please Lestat.” He saw your tears dripping down to the boy’s hands on your dress. The pain in your voice twisted his stomach. You sounded helpless and he whished nothing more than take this feeling away from you.
He shook his head no.
“I can’t.” He spoke. The dryness in his voice made more tears fall down your eyes. You held the boy closer to your heart. His head rested on your heart as you caressed his blonde curls. The curls that reminded you so much of Lestat.
“Yes, you can. Do it for me, please!” You were ready to beg if you needed to. There was nothing more you wanted than saving his little life. He had to live. He had to survive this filthy world and show everyone that he was strong. And maybe you would have a chance of being a mother.
“Children cannot be turned.” Lestat said as he reached out to hold you but you took a step back. You were shaking your head endlessly as tears kept flowing down your cheeks.
“Great laws forbid it. Otherwise a vampire child would live in misery.” He remembered Marius’s voice as he spoke these words to him before he sent him away. Someone under 17 cannot be given the dark gift.
“Laws? Are you serious? He will die if you don’t save him!” Your scream echoed through the walls and found his ears and heart. Your anger and sorrow shook him slightly. He knew he was walking on thin ice in this very moment. You could turn around and leave him again. And never come back this time. Who knows maybe you would find another vampire out there that could be your companion? Or turn this little boy for you to only make you happy? The thought hardened his blood and tightened his chest.
“My love, he won’t be saved if I turn him. He will live his life in desperation. For something more. Something he will never have.” He said gently as he wiped his tears away. He had to be strong. For both of you. His eyes found the boy again. He was so thin. Lestat wanted to put an end to his suffering. The boy’s eyes opened slightly and he looked at you. His fingers were shut tight over the fabric of your dress. Lestat could feel your love and care for him. You felt like you had to protect him. The boy’s big eyes found him. He looked at him with softness and hope. His eyes are full of life even when his life slips away from his body, just like hers were once upon a time, Lestat thought.
“We can be a family Lestat. He can be our son.” You said quietly. As if you feared that the world would take him away from you if they heard your words. “He looks just like you.”
Lestat didn’t look away from the boy. Yes, he did look like him. His blonde curls were just over his shoulders and his nose was small like Lestat’s nose when he was little. His mother loves him, unlike mine, he told himself.
“You and I and him. We can be happy together. We can try again.” The desperation in your voice broke his heart. You were willing to go back to him. To where you belong. Lestat wanted you back in the house, in his arms, in his coffin. He wanted you on his lips, on his skin. He wanted your fangs back in his neck and your heart on his. He wanted to be the one made you smile again and he wanted to be your dance partner in your extravagant parties. He wanted the boy to watch two of you as you danced and clap for his parents. He wanted to take him into his arms and feel a father’s strength in his bones. He wanted the pure and unconditional love of a son. The one he used to have for his father, way before he became his father’s unexplainable enemy. He wanted to see the boy become a man and be his pride.
“We are killers. A child has no place among the demons.” His words cut sharp as the boy started to cough again. The blood covered his lips as you tried to calm him down. Your own tears were spilling uncontrollably and sobs were coming between your lips. Lestat heard your irregular heartbeats.
“He cannot die.” You said between your sobs and cries as the boy kept coughing his blood out. You fell to your knees and kept his little head on your heart. His small, fragile hands were holding your hand tight. The fear in his eyes were piercing trough Lestat chest. He knelt beside you, held your back to his chest as you rocked back and forth. Both of you stopped breathing as the boy’s heartbeats started to slow down. His breaths calmed down and he closed his eyes. He clinged to your cold skin and did not let your hand go. With his last breath your head dropped back to Lestat’s shoulder. His arms were wrapped tight around both you and the boy. His long fingers intertwined with your and the boy’s hand. His decreasing temperature was slowly matching the coldness of both vampires.
“My son…” he hard your whisper. Your eyes were focused on the ceiling. Lestat buried his face in your neck when your cries filled the room. If only I could take all your pain away, he wanted to say but words did not leave his mouth. He could take your pain away, if only he made you a mother and gave you another family.
Lestat carried you to the coffin when you were exhausted from crying. He took the boy’s lifeless body and burnt it while you slept. He stayed until he was nothing but ash. He looked at the scene as the flames took him away and listened as his bones cracked and his flesh melted down. He didn’t let himself cry. It was his vilest murder. He had no right to feel guilt or shame.
He laid beside you in the coffin. You were whispering and crying still, even in your sleep. His fingers traced over your hands gently. He looked at your sleeping form and took a deep breath. Your scent filled his lungs once again after many years. His insides blossomed and he felt the life come back to his body. You were his home. It didn’t matter to him which form you were in or how you looked like. It didn’t matter if you were laughing or in sorrow. As long as you were beside him, he was happy to have you in any way. And you were back. Lestat knew he could not let you go again. Not after this night. Not when you needed him the most. He was the only one you had left with and he had no intention of leaving you alone. He was going to make you happy again. Just two of you were enough.
“You came into my life when I needed you the most. Now it is my turn to bring you joy.” He whispered to your ear and wrapped his arm around your waist. Your eyes opened as he closed his own. Your gaze traveled trough his beautiful features. He was beautiful as the first day you saw him. Years ago, in that party, where you were still innocent and human. Now I know that devil can be this pretty, you thought.
Lestat was in the corner of your mind for 8 years. You were carrying him in you wherever you traveled to. His face was carved onto your eyelids and you were too afraid to close your eyes. His voice kept echoing in your head when you killed, drank or spared a life. You played his favourite songs on the piano when you needed him by your side. But no matter how much you missed him, you couldn’t forgive him. You knew Lestat De Lioncourt loved you. You felt it in your bones, in your flesh. You carried his love in your veins. But you knew he cursed you forever. And you weren’t naive like you used to be to forgive and forget what he did to you. You were young and in love. How could you know it meant to lose your everything when you gave yourself to him that night?
You could not deny the fact that you were happy at first. Lestat gave you things no one ever did. He respected you, he loved you gently and made you feel like the only woman in the world. And you loved him. There was something in Lestat that pulled you to him. You were like opposite sides of a magnet. It felt right to touch and kiss him. Your heart craved for his heart just like your body craved for him. When he was deep in you, made you scream his name and planted soft kisses to your face, life was good. Until you started to see question marks on people’s faces. You were in peace with your fate and the things came with your new life. But everything seemed meaningless once it cost you your family. Lestat’s arms failed to comfort you when you were invited to your own father’s funeral at the last minute and saw that no one wanted you there. Not even your own mother.
You were motherless and fatherless. You were a demon who could only see the world under the dark sky. You could only stay alive if you killed humans. And seeing Lestat every single moment of your life vexed you. At the time you needed someone to blame other than yourself. You were already aware of your mistakes. And knowing that Lestat still turned you despite the fact that he knew what kind of a curse he was bringing on you, made his existence unbearable. You had to leave. You had to be alone with yourself after decades of marriage. Still, no matter where you went, Lestat was the only thing your heart ever wanted. You would always love him.
Then you found him. Leonardo. That was his name, you tried to remember. He was the son of a homeless woman that lived on the street of your small home. It was nighttime when you heard his cries. You saw his dead mother and him crying his eyes out over her body. You felt your heart shatter into pieces with the sight in front of you. He was so small and so scared. When his blue eyes found you and you could see his face clearly, you knew that you could not leave him to die. His arms reached out to you when you knelt beside him. He didn’t know why his mother wasn’t waking up and taking him into her arms. He was shaking and coughing between his sobs full of fear.
“Mummy.” He cried as you caressed his blonde curls to calm him down. He was cold and hungry and sick. I want to help you. I need to hold you, you thought as he snuggled to your chest. There was only one person who could help you. But could you go back to him? After everything that happened between you? Could you find that strength in yourself or would he take you back?
“Mummy!” Leonardo screeched in your lap in pain as his coughs got harder. His little hands were trying to hold your arms. You had to do it. Both for yourself and him. So that was now you found yourself in front of the door of your home.
You reached to hold his cheek. His breath quickened with your touch but his eyes kept shut. You were pressed against him. Your lips were nearly touching and you could feel his breaths all over your face. Your fingertips traced over his face to his neck and to his chest. His body shook. The soft touch made you both shiver when your hand slipped under his expensive shirt. It has been years since you last touched one another and you realised how much you missed him. You needed to touch him. When you pressed your lips against his, Lestat’s arms wrapped tighter around you. His kisses and biting continued to your neck and to your chest. The soft lips of your lover were sending you into oblivion. You had to be closer to him. Closer than being skin to skin, something more, something more painful, something full of love and the suffering that comes with it. Something that would destroy that pit in your stomach and be worth of all your sorrow.
“I love you. I live you. I-“ Lestat’s raggedy voice stopped as he kept kissing you hungrily. His words weren’t able to keep up with his desire. Your mind was foggy as he undressed himself first, then you. Tears were flowing down your cheeks and you were feeling his cold fingers spread the wetness between your legs. His fingertip caressed your leaking opening and moans left your mouth. You could barely see because of tears when you held his face and made him look at you. He was crying too. You kissed him. His tears and yours mixed up and found your pressed lips. The taste of blood was exquisite, vibrating, destructive.
The next thing you knew was you were on top of him, the lid of the coffin was wide opened, he was inside you, fully. You rode him to the bottom of the coffin, hard and deep as his impressive size stretched you out immensely. Your eyes rolled back when his hands groped your breasts. He was talking but you couldn’t hear him. Your ears were ringing and the pain was too great. Your moves became faster and harsher. Your sharp nails digged into his chest and scratched him all over.
“You’re crying.” Finally you heard him and opened your eyes again. It was a mess in his coffin. His chest, between your legs, his face, your body, you were both covered in blood. Yet Lestat managed to smile when he saw the unsettled look on your face. He held your waits tight and moved you back on forth gently on him. He kept caressing your body and say sweet nothings as he controlled your movements.
All the memories of your shared life passed before your eyes as you went closer to the edge. Your legs shook when Lestat’s thumb found your pearl and circled it skilfully. There was a soreness in your throat and your climax was building in your lower belly. The image of two of you filled your mind over and over again. The image of you happy. Would you be able to be like that again? You didn’t know. And learning the answer of this question scared you to death.
“I can’t.” You cried out when your orgasm hit you hard. Your body froze as Lestat kept his hands on you and reached to his climax. His dead seed spilled into you. Deep into your dead womb that was never going to be a home to a babe. Was Lestat enough for you to be fulfilled? Were you going to be enough for him when he got bored of searching for things that made him feel human, made him feel young again?
When you made eye contact again, you could see fear and doubt in his eyes. He was scared that you were going to leave him, just like everyone he ever loved. And he was not sure if it was still you in your body. He was looking for you in the eyes he saw for thousands of times and more. Yet nothing about your eyes felt familiar. Your body felt like you, your kisses felt like you, your heart felt like you. But it was almost like a death itself looking down at him in this moment. He left out a deep breath when you leaned down and laid on his chest.
His heartbeats were fast under your cheek. You turned a little and pressed a tender kiss to his chest. And another. And another. You kissed him until new tears stained your face. You hoped that you could find him again one day. You hoped that you were both humans when you meet again. You hoped that you had a life in another world, with the love of your life. You knew Lestat would find you no matter what. He would love you the same if not more. He would be yours in every lifetime until you had no more love to give.
“I’ll love you forever. Now and always. Until my last day and after.” You whispered but your quiet words reached to Lestat’s ears. He smiled sadly, his tears spilled down to his paper white pillow. He tried to speak but his voice shattered.
“And I you.” He could only say without sobbing. He shut his eyes tight when he heard you fall asleep on him. Tomorrow was going to be better. Everything was going to alright. He had you in his arms. And he needed nothing more.
—
When Lestat opened his eyes again, the first thing he felt was pain. His eyes were watering and he couldn’t even press his lips together to cover up his moans. He licked his dry, chapped lips with the last strength before he was breathless again. In the darkness of his coffin, his shiny eyes looked around desperately. He could feel the air hitting his burned body and make his wounds boil. He cried out your name. You were not in his arms. Where could you possibly be? Were you harmed too? What if you were harmed worse than him? You were younger and weaker than your maker. Lestat had to put himself together and find you, his dear fledgling. When he pushed opened his coffin lid, he saw the the wide open curtains that were usually closed. It was dark outside. The moon light was the only thing that was bright in the pitch black room.
It was only then he saw his burned body. Front of his arms, his whole chest, his thighs and his face were all covered in ashy wounds that were slowly healing. His blood red flesh was showing trough the burned skin pieces. They sizzled as the new skin was forming over them. But before he could think about his wounds, he had to find you. Why the curtains were open? They were always supposed to be shut. Just in case if any of you had to wake up when sun was still up during the day. He dragged his feet to the short, wide corridor of the second floor. All the doors and the windows were open, he frowned in confusion. His head was banging quiet like a bomb explosion. His body was aching and he was afraid. He was afraid just like the night Magnus took him from his room.
He walked fast as he could and entered the music room. You were no where to be seen. Lestat’s nose scrunched when he breathed in the strange smell in the room. He felt the smell stick onto his lungs and enter every bit of him. It was haunting and indescribable. It almost felt like he could taste it on his tongue. That strange, unpleasant, obnoxious flavour was so familiar on Lestat’s throat, yet he could find no name for it. He took few steps to his piano. His favourite tunes ringed in his ears. He could see your ghost of a fingers on the keyboard, playing all gracefully.
When he looked down, a pile of grey, powdery substance caught his attention. How could he possibly not see this when he entered the room? He got on his knees and the source of smell was undeniably found. As he touched the powder, he felt his whole body shake in horror. His eyes closed tight when the faded memory of you getting up from the coffin came back.
“I love you. I love you. I love…” the words were repeated over and over again. Not thousands but maybe hundreds and thousands of times. He could hear you. You were not in the coffin. He could hear your steps in the room. Then he could hear your steps in the corridor. You were going in and out of rooms. Lestat could hear you mumbling things under your breath. He could hear your heartbeats and your rushed moves.
He wanted to open the lid of his coffin and get out. It was probably near sunrise and you had to go back to sleeping. When he pushed the lid, something blocked his exit. He tried to kick it and punch it when he heard you play the piano and keep talking.
“I want to see the sun rise in the sky again.” You said. “I want to see the clouds on the blue ocean of time.”
He called for you but you were not listening to him. As you played the melody from start to end, the fear in Lestat’s heart grew stronger. And when your fingers stopped, he felt a sharp pain all over his body. It was something he had never felt before. The greatest pain he felt was when he was transformed. He could never forget what it felt like for the next thousand years. But this, this was different. It was coming from somewhere deep. He wanted to rip his stomach open and find the core of the pain. His coffin got filled with his dreadful scream and he heard you shout in agony. He felt the pain in every inch of his body. With one last hard kick, he opened the lid successfully. Only to be greeted by bright, warm sunlight that was glowing beautifully in your shared chambers.
His skin started to burn immediately, and it was then Lestat knew what was happening. His jaw clenched and his tears burned his wounds when he heard your screams from the other side of the house.
“What have you done?!” He shouted but you didn’t respond. The sunlight was nothing compared the pain he was in as you kept burning. He could feel his blood boil in veins as yours dried up under the daylight. You were leaving him.
‘I have loved you, with everything I had in me.’ Lestat didn’t know if you spoke aloud or he just imagined, rather wished you have said it. Maybe it wasn’t too late, Lestat tried to get up but his body was damaged enormously. He could feel the sunlight penetrate into his bones with every second he was spending in front of the open curtains. But he had to save you! He cried and tried to get up again. And again and again. Until he couldn’t hear your screams anymore.
The house fell into a dead silence in seconds. Only thing that could be heard was the silent sizzling of Lestat’s burns. He stoped breathing and he stoped trying to get up. His lifeless eyes fell onto his hands. He laid back in his coffin and pulled the lid back on with a stinging move.
It was a nightmare. An unbelievably bad nightmare. Maybe the worst one he had have been for decades. You were sleeping in your own coffin peacefully. Lestat was going to see you when sun came down and he was going to kiss your lips with a smile on his face. He was going to carry you around the house like a princess and read your favourite poems just for you. You were going to forgive. And maybe in time, you were going to forget. He was going to change and try to be someone better than who he was now. Both of you were going to be happy again, together. He smiled with excitement with the thoughts on his mind. The smell of burned flesh tickled his nose.
—
“You do not know this girl!” Lestat said aggressively as he watched Louis lay the little girl on the bed carefully. Louis’s bright green eyes were full of fear and guilt when he faced Lestat again.
“Make her like us!” He said with a bitter hope in his voice. Lestat pressed his lips together when he heard him utter those words. This cannot be happening, he assured himself hopelessly.
“Non c’est impossible. Elle est trop jeune!” Lestat said in frustration as Louis walked closer to him with hurry. Lestat's heart was pounding fast in his chest. The images of a distant memory was blurring his vision. The same eyes from decades ago were looking at him again. The same eyes that were full of guilt, sorrow and hope with an innocent child at the edge of death in the arms of the person he loved. His chest tightened when Louis kept talking, pleading to save the little girl’s life. What could Lestat do? Was he curse to live same life over and over again for the rest of the eternity?
He could never forget you. He didn’t know how long he mourned you. Days, months, years? Maybe he was still mourning you with the little box in his closet that was filled with your ashes. It took him years to find the courage to try again. And when he kissed Louis for the first time, he felt like finding light in his murky world. But guilt ate him inside out. He wondered if you would be wounded when you learned that he was capable of loving again. He tried to reassure himself that the thing he had with Louis was different than what he had with you. You would always be his wife. Your wedding ring on a necklace that was around his neck was the proof of it.
“Please I can’t have her die!” The pain in Louis’s voice broke his heart. He remembered this feeling so well that it almost hit him on the face. He remembered how it felt like to be helpless when his lover was begging him to change things, set things right and how he couldn’t do it.
“The gift cannot be given to children.” He said when his anger and fear filled him to his limit. The look on Louis’s face twisted something in his stomach.
“What do you mean? Yes it can.” Louis said breathlessly as he tried to find his strength back. All he needed was to save this girl’s precious life. She laid on the bed, unconscious, coughing out the flames silently and she was all he needed in that moment.
“The great laws forbid it!” Lestat spited out as if he had poison on his tongue. Anger appeared on Louis’s face and Lestat regretted what he just said.
“The great laws?” Louis said mockingly. He sounded bitter and every octave of his voice cut both men deeply. “She gonna die in front of us!”
The next thing Lestat knew was that Louis dragged the little girl on the flour, cried, begged, cried, fell on his knees in front of his companion and cried. Louis’s usually gentle hands found Lestat’s body, he held onto him like he was the last thing on the world.
“Please, please.” It was all Lestat could hear. And the little girl’s raggedy breaths that were becoming slower and slower.
“My beautiful little daughter.” Lestat could not swallow, could not hold his tears back or his heartbeats stable when he heard Louis’s voice shatter as he said the words. He hated how his story repeated itself. He hated how he was always the one who had to make this decision.
“Please I’ll be anything.” Louis begged and cried. Lestat wanted to curl into a ball and never wake up again. He looked down at this companion, his lover, the man who saved him, begging him to make him a father.
“Please, please, please…” It was all Louis was saying when Lestat remembered your screams after your little boy died. He remembered how yours eyes looked dead inside and even your smiles were full of grief. He remembered how you begged him and he didn’t listen to you. And then how he lost you. He was a fool to think that you were going to be alright after your son died. He was a fool to think you were going to forgive him and be happy again. And he was a fool to think that you were going to stay with him after what he did to you.
There was a no day passed after your death that he didn’t regret not turning that boy. Great laws forbid it! At what cost he had followed the laws when he was on the other side of the world, oceans away from the last vampire he had seen? He regretted his choice everyday of his last few years and he didn’t know if he would be able to mourn one more person.
He looked down at Louis and saw your crying eyes stare back at him. He looked up instantly.
“You will regret this for the rest of your life.” He said. Yet he didn’t know if he was talking to himself or Louis. Maybe both. He walked to the little girl on the floor and picked her body with ease. Poor thing was covered in burns and couldn’t open her eyes. His blue eyes found Louis’s relieved shoulders and his fangs found the girl’s small neck.
#interview with the vampire#lestat de lioncourt#lestat x reader#the vampire lestat#lestat x louis#sam reid lestat#reader insert#smut#iwtv spoilers#pre canon#Lestat de lioncourt x reader#louis de pointe du lac#original child character#tw death#iwtv
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I saw that your requests were open and rushed over here as quick as I could!
I would LOVE to see more D-16 and Orion Pax, maybe a poly relationship of how they would act as a dynamic. Reader would be whatever you'd like for them to be and a miner as well, maybe they are the balance for the two to keep them in check? Can be fluff or angst, I'm not picky!
Im so excited to see what you do! Keep up the amazing work!
Pairing: D-16 x Orion Pax x mech!Reader Rating: SFW-ish Summary: When a balanced duo meets a like-minded bot like them, how will this shake the dynamic between the newly formed trio? Warnings/Tags: Pre-canon, does this count as spoilers?, angst, fluff, romantic gesture(s), oil baths, secret relationship(s), Elita-1 cameo, Orion gives you a nickname, reader is an archivist (lmao WAS an archivist). Word Count: 1600+ words
How did you three meet?
It was a normal day sorting through the records and making sure everything was in its proper place. You adjusted your spectacles before moving the box from your hip into two servos. The corridor you were walking in was long, empty, and cold. Not a single spark in sight and you preferred it that way.
As you pressed a button, the doors to a room slid open and you carried the box inside. Whistling a small tune, you placed the box on a table and paused when something clicked.
Looking over your shoulder, you found two pairs of optics staring at you. One as blue as the sky, the other as bright as the sun.
"....hey?"
"AAAAAAHHHHHH-MFPH!"
First Impressions:
D-16
🟡 Thought you were rather skittish and weird, especially after you almost got them both in trouble had it not been for Orion shushing you with his servo.
🟡 Thankfully, you were rather understanding, a bit naive, but understanding of their innocent intentions.
Orion Pax
🔵 You seemed like a nice mech.
🔵 A really nice mech when you didn't rat him and his buddy out to the guards when they approached the room to investigate the scream from earlier.
🔵 Your derpy spectacles and timid mannerism (he caught onto your nervous tics) made him believe you were one of those uptight bookworms. Not the bad kind or snobbish, but not a social type of bot.
🔵 He was proved wrong twice when you had the opportunity to turn them in, but choose not to after hearing the purpose of their 'visit.'
Shared interests:
Oh boy, who knew you were a fan of Megatronus? Orion had a 'pleasant' time hearing D-16 and their new acquaintance ramble on about how cool and awesome the Prime was.
When the conversation (more like fangirling) about Megatronus turned on Orion, the aforementioned mech spoke about the matrix and his goal in helping seek the location of it.
Cue flapping servos and a squeal that was shushed by D-16's servo over your intake.
Not only were you interested in learning about the Primes, mainly Megatronus, but you also were interested in finding the lost lore of the Matrix and any information you could get your servos on.
A friendship blossomed on that day and the three of you agreed to meet up at a bar or park whenever all of you had the time to do so.
Overall dynamic a friends:
You fit in pretty well with the duo.
Your eagerness to learn more despite the consequences and sometimes good judgment was a nice balance to D-16 sticking to protocol and Orion Pax's exasperating ideas.
Although your time spent with the two wasn't a lot compared to them working together in the mines, it didn't stop the bond from strengthening between you three.
You were D-16's backup whenever Orion had a ridiculous plan that could lead him getting demoted severely.
You were Orion's hype mech and source of information whenever the two of you felt like you had a lead in your goals.
You tend to call the red and blue mech Pax, even after being assured that you can call him Orion. After a while, Orion didn't mind the way you said his name, it felt…nice, like a 'special' thing between himself and you.
Overall, I'd say the three of you were great friends.
Until….
You picked up your pace and rubbed the glass of your spectacles from the smudge that happened to get on it. It was your off day and you wanted to spend as much of it with your friends as possible, especially when you had exciting news to share with them.
You nearly bumped into a few bots, apologizing to them anyway, as you maneuvered around the busy streets of Iacon. It did not take long for you to arrive at the mines. You skidded to a halt when you spotted a pink femme chatting with a few other bots.
You approached and before you could raise a digit to gain her attention she had long since spotted you.
Elita-1 rolled an optic and jabbed a digit in one direction, then you were off--scurrying towards the showers to find your friends.
"D? Pax?" You called as you stepped into the communal showers. The showers, which you've seen in some blueprints, were a shared space with only one or two baths built in.
Mutterings echoed off the tiled area that appeared vacant. If it wasn't for the sound of oil, you would've assumed so. You rose a ridge before continuing to walk deeper into the area, only to stop when the murmurs grew clearer.
"...Orion, we're going to be late…"
"C'mon, a little fun isn't going to make us late."
When you heard your designation spill from D-16's intake and more reassurance from Orion, you quickened your pace and rounded the corner to find a…well…sight to behold.
Orion was partially submerged in the bath with D-16 straddling him. Their gazes were filled with a passion you never saw whenever the three of you were hanging out. For some reason, a pang seized your spark and you took a step back but bumped into the wall.
The noise caused Orion and D to separate.
"___?!"
Energon shot to your faceplate added with the heat of the bath fogging up your spectacles caused you to stutter out a 'quick' sorry while attempting to escape. Oil splashed around as D-16 moved to the other end of the bath to cover his flushed face and Orion ran out of the bath to catch up…or rather, catch you.
Running in a slippery area was not a good idea.
You crashed onto the floor and shrieked when your ankles were snatched and you were pulled back toward the bath. Clawing at the floor, your futile attempts at breaking free caused Orion to drop your ankles and walk around to your front to grab both sides of your helm. D-16 watched as he leaned against the edge of the bath.
"____."
"Yes?" You squawked.
Orion smashed his dermas against yours. You felt weak and nearly melted into the kiss had it not been for the 'd'aww' coming from your other friend. You found the strength to withdraw from Orion and scoot back until you were a reasonable distance from both.
"What..why…huh??" You pointed to the two of them, you and Orion, and then to your dermas.
"We've…been meaning to tell you," D-16 started.
"Just hadn't found the right moment, but now that you know…we can finally tell you how much we like you!"
"...classy."
"Whaaat? ___ deserves to know about us and how we feel about them! All these secrets just felt..wrong, anyway-" Orion turned to look at you with a wide smile. "Whaddya say, starlight? You in?"
"Call a medic cause I'm about to have a spark attack."
Cue them panicking along with you.
And that's how you managed to become more than friends with your…well, friends.
First date?
A bar :)
Twas a fun time walking the two of them back to your home when they were drunk off of their processors
In the morning, you all comforted each other with the hangover pains
First kiss?
Orion already stole your first official kiss.
You and D's first kiss happened on the second date when you managed to 'borrow' some merch of his favorite Prime at a invite-only Iacon event. D legit swept you off your peds and kissed you hard enough you felt like you were seeing stars.
Demotion…
Yeah…courting a mech who's becoming notorious for sneaking into archives to look at restricted and sensitive data did not go over well with your higher ups.
You were demoted to a lower title that stripped you off your access to most records.
To say you were devastated was an understatement.
You couldn't even look at Orion in the optics for a while.
Arguments
This incident definitely caused a few disagreements in your relationship
First, D stopping Orion from visiting you too much so that you could have the space you needed
You felt like scrap for the boiling resentment you were feeling toward yourself, the relationship, and with Orion.
It all boiled over when Orion disregarded D's warning to stay away and managed to catch you during your working shift.
And…it didn't end nicely.
Names were called, not-so-good things were brought up, and you even called Orion a fragging screw up.
Making up
After the big fight and 'cold war' that was going on between you three, mainly you and D-16 vs Orion. Things…settled down when all of you sat down to talk about it for once.
Starting the conversation wasn't the easy part, discussion and apologizing was, especially when you and Orion were 'fighting' over how sorry you two were. D-16 had to shut the two of you up by holding you two idiots close in a hug.
Lots of servo-holding and cuddles happened that day :3
Overall dynamic as a polycule:
Healthy when communication isn't disrupted.
It's easy to play mediator if something does arise between two of you, but when all three of you are angry at each other? Eh, let's say there is a rule in the relationship to never bottle up your emotions for too long and communicate if you're upset about anything.
Jealousy….ohhhh, it doesn't happen often, but when someone gets a little too close Orion and D are on you like a starved bot on a pile of energon cubes.
Your relationship is discrete, only a few bots (including your higher ups) know of the true nature of your relationship with D-16 and Orion Pax.
Overall, it's a beautiful relationship....hopefully nothing bad will happen in the future wink wink.
😼 - I do not give permission for anyone to translate, copy, republish, or plagiarize any of my written works. I provide no permission for any of my literary works to be used in artificial intelligence. banner(s) by @dollywons !!
#spectacles are glasses if that wasn't clear#transformers one spoilers#pre canon#megaop#orion pax x reader#d 16 x reader#polyamory#slight angst#fluff#headcanons#dating headcanons#x reader#listening to 'when he sees me' while writing this lol#quixotical answers#thanks for requesting
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steddie | 888 words | angst | mature
CW: drug use, implicit violence
Written for @steddieangstyaugust Day 3
Prompt: "The sunset looks lovely, don't you think?"
Part 2 | Part 3
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"The sunset looks lovely, don't you think?"
Eddie looks up from the joint he's rolling to find the only face he never thought he would see out here.
"King Steve," he says, and maybe it's his imagination but Harrington seems to flinch at his words. "What can I do for you?"
Eddie goes back to rolling his joint. There's a part of him that thinks this could be a trap. Last week the entire swimming team had to do a test to make sure they were all clean and one of the guys didn't pass it.
He didn't pass it because Eddie had sold him some stuff the week before so maybe now Steve was here to put Eddie in his place.
Eddie lights up the joint and takes a long drag. If he's going to get a beating, then he might as well do it while high out of his mind.
"I was hoping you'd sell me something," Steve says. Eddie looks at him with the joint between his lips, trying to assess him.
"Sorry man, I'm all out," Eddie knows best than to create evidence against himself.
Steve looks at the open metal lunchbox on the table and raises a brow. "Really?"
"Really," Eddie says. He doesn't bother closing it and he doesn't mind if Steve knows he's lying.
"Jordan told me all I had to do was say that bullshit thing about the sunset and you'd get me something."
Eddie turns his face to blow out smoke. Fucking Jordan. He had come up with that password phrase to avoid getting in trouble. If people really wanted to buy something, then they would have to come up to Eddie and say it.
"He lied," Eddie says and he can see Steve's getting annoyed.
He gets up and put his joint out, pocketing it for later.
Eddie could definitely use a few extra bucks this week because their kitchen sink stopped working and Wayne doesn't get paid until the end of the month, but it's not worth the risk of getting in trouble. Eddie knows the money he brings home is what helps keeping them afloat, even if Wayne likes to pretend he doesn't know where Eddie gets it.
He closes his lunchbox and moves to walk past Steve, but feels a hand wrapping around his wrist, stopping him.
It's not a strong hold, he could easily break free and walk away, but Eddie stops. He doesn't think he ever got this up close with Steve, which is both thrilling and terrifying.
"Please, man," Steve says, his voice is really low and he's wearing sunglasses, so Eddie can't see his eyes. "I just need something to get the edge off."
Eddie looks down to where they are touching and feels a fucked up thrill going down his spine. Steve's hand is big enough to circle his wrist without much effort and Eddie wonders how it would feel to have that in a different scenario.
He wonders how it would feel if Steve were to grab him and throw him down on the table. He could probably hold both his wrists with one hand, and Eddie would be helpless to do anything but take whatever Steve wanted to give him.
Steve moves and Eddie doesn't even flinch, thinking he might get what he wished for after all, but Steve just takes out his sunglasses and Eddie's breath catches in his throat.
Steve has a big bruise around his left eye. It's ugly and it can't be older than a day. It must hurt like hell and Eddie has to fight the urge to touch it.
"My head is killing me," Steve offers. He looks defeated and Eddie can't ignore the way his heart twist at the words.
Eddie should ignore it. He should pull his arm away and walk out, leave him out here alone. But Eddie is not a fucking monster.
He picks up the barely smoked joint and offer it to Steve, who lets go of Eddie's arm and takes it immediately.
Eddie decides not to think about the absence of his touch, and instead watches as Steve puts it between his lips and how that essentially means their lips touched, somehow.
Steve is giving him a hopeful look and Eddie should walk away but instead he picks his lighter and lights him up.
The first drag floods Steve's expression with relief and he lets out a low moan that makes Eddie's whole body tingle.
"How much do I owe you?" Steve asks, already moving to get his wallet. His arm brushes Eddie's but he doesn't seem to mind the proximity.
"Consider it a free sample," Eddie says and Steve eyes him suspiciously.
"You gotta let me pay you," Steve says and Eddie has to stop himself from saying 'you can pay me with something other than money.'
Even if he doesn't say it, Eddie is under the impression the words float around them like ghosts. Steve raises a brow and Eddie has to laugh it off before he starts taking off his clothes.
"Don't worry, big boy. Enjoy your free sample."
And with that, Eddie retreats before he does something stupid like kiss King Steve. That would get him a beating for sure and Eddie likes a little pain, but he probably wouldn't like that.
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“I need to tell Pen about you,” Odysseus said, looking at his patron with puppydog eyes. “I know you training me is a bit of a secret, but I couldn’t keep anything from her, please, you won’t be mad, right?”
Athena raised her eyebrows, sighing. “You’ll be absolutely useless in training until I let you, right?”
A wide grin. “My grandfather didn’t name me ‘a pain in the ass’ for nothing!”
Athena sighed again. “Truly blessed with the gift of prophesy, that man. Fine.”
Your honor I love them
#ody's name is derived from the greek word for 'to make angry' apparently so that's the background here#also his grandfather was an absolute madman /affectionate#epic the musical#epic athena#jorge rivera herrans#epic odysseus#athena and odysseus#pre canon#etm#epic fanfic#epic fandom#epic penelope
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Some writing practice lol
There was a saying in Iacon.
"Some bots were just created lucky."
D-16 had never known anything beyond the mines. Had never once defied the rules, like Orion, and had never once tried to venture beyond what he knew.
D couldn't blame Orion for his curiosity; there were times when he was tempted to know more. When he got to ride on the trains, his gaze was always drawn to the windows, watching the landscape change from the dark confines of the mines to the golden glow of the city, with shimmering buildings bathed in sunlight.
On a rare day, Orion listened to him and came along to do his job. The train was packed this time, leaving little room for either of them. Suddenly, the train jerked to a stop, causing D to stumble, nearly bumping into another bot. But before he could steady himself, Orion crashed into him, sending him jolting forward; a quiet "oomph" came from before him. Groaning, he opened his optics and nearly went offline, coming face to chest plate.
"Oh…Oh my Primus. I'm so sorry," D stammered, stepping away quickly. His optics took in the intricate designs of the bot before flickering up, his spark stuttering in his chassis; he was sure he was going to be demoted. The bot brushed themselves off and looked at him with a kind, but amused smile. "It's alright," a tilt to their head as they looked him over, "No harm done."
You introduced yourself, holding out a delicate, polished servo. D felt unworthy as he took it, so sure that you must have been internally disgusted by his own, "And you?"
"D-16," he managed, feeling every bit out of place. Why were you letting him touch you? You noticed his unease, your expression softening, "It's a pleasure to meet you."
A firm tug on his arm pulled him from you. Orion—with a big grin on his face—motioned with his helm that it was time to go. Stepping off the train, D-16 turned to get one last look at you; the sunlight reflected on your armor, a smile still on your face, "Hope to see you again soon."
And for the first time, D felt warmth. Warmth that had nothing to do with the sunlight beaming down on him
The formatting is probably clunky bc I'm not used to Tumblr. I'm an avid ao3 writer👩���🦯
#pre canon#d 16 x reader#d-16 x reader#cybertronian reader#you have a t-cog#transformers one x reader
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Do you think that during the two years between Dazai joining the ada and the start of the series he would read the newspaper to keep an eye on mafia dealings and would just get second hand embarrassment.
Like, "Don't enter into that deal, it's a scam and you know it."
"Who the Hell hired the lemon guy?!"
"No Akutagawa, do not blow up another police station, that's the third one this month."
"Ace? So can anyone just become an executive now?!?"
#bsd#bsd dazai#bungo stray dogs#bungou stray dogs dazai#dazai osamu#bsd fandom#ada dazai#pm dazai#armed detective agency#bungo stray dogs akutagawa#bsd akutagawa#akutagawa ryuunosuke#port mafia#bsd port mafia#pre canon
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Random thought: in Taking On Anxiety, Virgil acts much more like a typical villain or "dark side", he's confident and laid back throughout the episode. In the end card for the video he's like "if I didn't convince Thomas not to go to that party something bad could've happened" and Roman's like, "yeah he could've had fun or smth," Virgil responds to that with a loud and confident "YEAH!" before going "wait what," my new headcanon is that that's how he used to talk and act when he was hanging around Janus, Remus and Orange pre-canon, or that's how they used to talk and he's copying them (or both), he wasn't expecting a contradiction like that because he's lived around people who acted like that his whole life
The whole, "I just wanted to look out for him so I made him do it" makes me think of Janus specifically, which fills my momceit heart, imagine Virgil looking up to and copying him before they fell out
#yes this is just more dark side family brainror#sanders sides#virgil sanders#remus sanders#pre accepting anxiety#orange side#pre aa#janus sanders#roman sanders#pre canon#dark sides as family#dark side family#anxceitmus#familial anxceitmus#because orange name and function ain't revealed yet so no ship names
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"Dogs Playing Poker" ♠️🏜️
#rdr2#rdr2 fanart#red dead redemption 2#red dead#red dead fanart#rdr2 art#arthur morgan#rdr2 community#red dead redemption#hosea matthews#john marston#dutch van der linde#pre canon#saiyan druid art#digital art#fanart#video game fanart#big boah arthur morgan#red dead art#red dead redemption two#red dead fandom#red dead redemption ii#red dead redemption community#rdr
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an old photo from 1993
#not ship art!#unrendered fish!!!!!!#sorry for the bad drawing i just wanted to get this idea down#too lazy to draw the background :3c#rdr2 modern au#rdr2 arthur morgan#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#rdr2 fanart#rdr2 arthur#rdr2 headcanons#rdr2 john#rdr2 john marston#rdr2 hosea#hosea mathews#arthur morgan#john marston#modern au#pre canon#rdr2 precanon#young arthur morgan#young john marston#john with braids mwhehe
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teenagers
#katniss madge and gale: :/#peeta and delly: :D#delly is my baby girl truly my fav side character#my art#artists on tumblr#thg#katniss everdeen#peeta mellark#madge undersee#delly cartwright#gale hawthorne#thg books#thg art#thg fanart#pre canon#peeta freckles truther#and by extension delly bc in my head theyre twinsies bc she used to say he was her brother
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My personal headcanon about Rhaelya is that the elopement was not pre-planned. The way they disappeared and eloped in such a sloppy manner, so out of either of their established characters, just leads me to believe it was a spur of the moment decision.
I headcanon that Rhaegar and Lyanna did meet eachother for the first time at the Harrenhal Tourney and left eachother deeply moved after the whole KoTL ordeal. At Harrenhal, Lyanna's heroism moved Rhaegar to win his first tourney and crown her. Crowning her as Queen of Love and Beauty was the only way his society allowed a woman to be honoured at a Tourney, even if she deserved the honor of winning the Tourney. That was Rhaegar's intent at least is what I believe.
And after that incident, I believe they both went back home to lead their normal lives but couldn't stop thinking of eachother. But even so, it couldn't be so they kept trying to move on. But I believe they had a chance encounter when she came back south which somehow resulted in their "dissappearing together". Now imagine Rhaegar had set out to Isle of the Gods with his closest companions, imagine Lyanna wanted to see that place before her wedding, imagine they just ran into eachother then and one thing led to another.
And I also believe there was a jenga of other people who would profit from a war that benefitted from the circumstances. Someone certainly spread misinformation to Brandon at the very least, like who told Brandon that Rhaegar kidnapped Lyanna? I suspect Varys to be involved certainly, because come on he has a history of pitting Aerys against Rhaegar and later conveniently shows up with a Blackfyre heir? Almost like he wanted Targaryen downfall all along (I buy into the theory that he's a Blackfyre himself). And I can't shake the feeling LF was somehow involved as well because hey who wanted Brandon dead the most at the time and knew enough of his personality to know he'd go charging in recklessly given the right information?
Anyways before I get sidetracked, I can't help but believe that R+L's elopement was much more spontaneous and confused than a well-designed masterplan.
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