#vampires are fun to write

[xxnashiraxx]

Friday Snippet/WIP Whenever

I like it when he's a creepy undead creature ❤🦇🩸

Felt like updating again! I'm now working on Chapter 11- on a roll!

WARNING: Just a bit bloody?

She does the only thing she can think of to shut him up and slashes down the center of her forearm, wincing from the pain as a river of red gushes from the cut and runs down her angled arm into her palm. “Nice warning,” He mutters, nostrils flared and eyes that pretty, bright crimson. His fangs are digging into his lower lip and he looks like he’s fighting an invisible battle as he tilts the cup and lets her dangle her hand over it. Drip. Drop. He paints a vivid picture of the undead- menacing and frozen. The uncanny pale of his skin and the way his chest remains still, free of breath, makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. There’s a soft wheezing noise and she’s drawn back to the way his pupils unnaturally fluctuate, jaw shifting back and forth unconsciously. “Astarion… are you breathing?” He startles and looks up at her, gasping around an inhale as it creaks through his hollow lungs. “I wasn’t… can’t, really… it smells too strong.” She nods, pitying his state, as her blood slowly starts to fill the chalice. A bright idea flashes through her mind, too fast to catch up to logical thinking, and she quickly anchors the razor between her teeth before breathing deeply and swiping the sharp edge against her thumb. He watches intently, every muscle taught, but she squeezes the flesh until blood seeps out of the cut. “Open up,” He obeys, lips parting as scarlet fluid starts to weep from the wound and drip onto his tongue. A full-body shiver runs down his limbs, his dark lashes fluttering shut over his cheeks. Hers burn at the way he swallows, his hands trembling and his chest finally beginning to rise and fall. His free one comes up, presses her thumb to his mouth, and gently licks until the bleeding stops. It lights some kind of forbidden, hungry feeling inside her, and she makes a muffled whine of frustration before he brings the cup to his lips and drinks.

Tagging you all again if you've got more fun stuff to share! 🖤

@verbenaa @inkymoonbunny @khywren @preciouslittlebhaalbae @ladyduellist @justabiteofspite @elinorbard @pinkberrytea @kalmiaphlox @roguishcat @sashitf @bhaalsdeepbat

[allmyhomieshatelawns]

DC x DP prompt kinda thing

Danny is Damien’s twin. In the League, they believe twins are born as opposites, usually complementary. one twin is always the “good” twin and one is always the “evil” twin.

the League will usually kill the twin they believe as “good” since they’re assassins and all that.

Talia being Talia and this being the prompt, she refuses to kill one of her twins, and instead hides one in the states, far from his father and across the world from her. he was supposed to be safe there.

she never “decides” which twin is supposed to be which, and even hides the fact she had twins from the rest of the League. Damien doesn’t know he has a twin.

normal Danny Phantom stuff happens to him. things happen he somehow ends up meeting Damien or one of the other bats or even a JL member that would recognize Dami’s or Bruce’s face, and they go “oh no”

when Damien finds out he’s got a twin, he freaks out trying to figure out which of them is the “evil” twin, and which is the “good” twin.

is one of them the “good/evil” twin? or is it arbitrary self-fulfilling prophecy? you decide~!

[pnfc]

assorted bits from historical australia au that was inspired by an old textpost. and also by 1800s naturalist lit on platypuses and other fauna

something like: charlene cajoled roger into letting heinz have a light sentence and he ultimately takes up naturalist studies. but ultimately he doesnt get credited for any of his work, and ends up unanimously blacklisted from the research community for being too much of a freak. like theyve all already figured out the secrets of the platypus but he's hung up on one particular specimen and refuses to kill him or any others to send back home for further dissection, what's up with that?

[freedomfireflies]

Bite Me*

Summary: Part of Halloween Kinktober, Freaky Fun

The one where your boyfriend, Harry, is a vampire.

And you wish you could feel what he felt.

Word Count: 3.2k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

“Easy…easy, sweet dove. Need to relax for me. Can smell how nervous you are. Take a deep breath, hm?”

Shaky fingers gather in front of your stomach as you nod nervously. Staring up at your boyfriend with anticipation and remorse. “Sorry, I just…I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Nothing,” he says quickly, reaching up to brush some hair behind your ear. “There is nothing wrong with you, darling. It’s chemical. You’re meant to feel nervous around me. It’s nature’s design. To keep you safe.”

You nod again, catching a glimmer of light from the sharp tooth peeking out from behind his lip. “I know, I just…I wish it would stop. I wish we could just be, you know? Without me being so…”

He studies you for a moment, a look of adoration on his face as he hums again and cups your cheek. “I know.”

You nestle into his touch rather contently before he begins to smile, now dipping down to nudge his nose with yours. 

“If you want…I can make the bad feeling go away,” he whispers with a slight purr. “Can make it all better again.”

Hopeful, your lashes flutter. “Really?”

He nods once. “Mhm. Just wanna help you, dove. Want you to feel good.”

And now you understand what he means, the thought sending a spark down to your toes. It’s rare he feeds from you. After all, he considers the act to be degrading and disrespectful. He only ever feeds from animals or blood bags unless you’ve specifically asked.

But the truth is, you love when he feeds from you. For a plethora of reasons, one of which being the overwhelming sense of need and dependance on him that follows. Or the way his eyes grow darker and his entire demeanor changes. How much stronger he becomes feeding on human blood, specifically the blood of someone he loves.

But another reason lies with his fangs. The venom that becomes injected into your bloodstream, forcing you to feel whatever emotion or desire he feels. 

It’s a trick used to lure and calm his prey into submission while he feeds, but you find another use for it. Because if he’s filled with serenity or anger or lust…you feel it, too. You feel him. Only him.

And it’s your absolute favorite feeling in the world.

His other hand now reaches for your neck, fingers gently tapping the sides of your throat. “Just say the word, darling. And I’ll give you anything you want.”

You feel your chest deflate, all the air evaporating from your lungs as he slowly urges you back against the wall. Bracing you there as he awaits your decision.

He knows what you want. And he knows that you’d tell him otherwise. 

Your fingers tangle in the dark shirt on his chest, desperate to keep him near you. “Do it. Please.”

He tilts your head back, letting his lip curl up until his fang is revealed. “Are you sure, my dove?”

Another fervent nod. “Yes. Please, Har…please, need to feel it. Need to feel you.”

He leans closer, letting the tips of his sharp teeth graze over the sensitive skin of your throat. Right above your pulse point. “Gotta be really sure, darling. Don’t want to hurt you. Or lose control.”

“You won’t,” you exhale, feeling more confident than you sound. “Know you won’t.”

Truth be told, you wouldn’t mind if he did. Even in his darkest moments, he remains your fiercest protector. Never allowing anyone to hurt you.

Not even himself.

You feel him breathe against your neck, perhaps preparing himself for what he’s about to do. Or maybe he’s indulging in your smell. Reveling in the realization of what he’s about to do. What he’s about to taste.

Then, almost as if overcome with a surge of confidence, he bites down – hard. Enough to break the skin and allow his venom to travel into your system.

It’s instantaneous, the feeling. The way your muscles dissolve into jelly, the way your mind fills with a certain haze, and the way your stomach begins to coil.

It’s overwhelming, but it’s him. And you whimper as his other hand falls to your hip to keep you steady, making sure you remain upright and in his arms.

He waits a moment or two to make sure the venom has taken effect before he slowly retracts his fangs and pulls away. You know if he’d punctured you any deeper or kept the sharp teeth inside of you any longer, the taste of your blood would have driven him mad. Tempting him beyond reason until he began to lose control.

But he knows his limits by now. Knows exactly how far he can push himself around you, and you admire him for it.

Your legs shake as you slump against the wall, held up by his grip as he studies you carefully. Looking for signs of remorse or panic.

He’s learned a trick for sucking a majority of the poison out of your system – if it were to come to that. And while it’s tricky and tedious, you know he’d do it in a heartbeat if he felt you were in danger or if you regretted your choice.

Instead, you simply smile at him, and nod languidly. “M’good, Har,” you assure him. “M’so good.”

He seems to exhale a grateful breath, thumb stroking your cheek gently as he now glances over your wound. “I need to clean it—"

“No,” you whimper, keeping him close. “Not yet. Don’t go yet.”

He chuckles, the corner of his mouth curling into a smirk. “All right, dove. I’m here. How do you feel, hm? You feel calm yet?”

You nod again before your lashes flutter. “Yeah. Calm, and…and happy, I think?”

He hums. “I imagine. You do make me happy.”

“It’s strange, though,” you admit, brows furrowing in thought. “Feels…heightened. Or more potent. There’s this…this yearning. This need for something.”

He regards you for a moment more. Curious and seemingly amused by your confusion before suddenly, your eyes snap to his.

You suck in a sharp inhale – something akin to a gasp. “Are you…are you horny?”

You expect his surprise, but all you find is smug fascination. “Well,” he begins slowly, letting his knuckles graze delicately beneath your jaw, “the term horny is a little juvenile. And it could never even begin to describe what I feel for you.”

He steps closer, lips ghosting just above yours while you feel your breath hitch.

“But…yes,” he whispers, glancing down at your mouth with a smile. “I suppose I am. Can’t exactly help it, darling, can I? When you look…and taste…and smell so goddamn divine.”

Another whimper bleeds from your throat as he begins to guide you away from the wall and toward the bed just to the left of you.

“Tell me…how does it feel, dove, hm?” he murmurs, touch strong yet determined. “Do you feel me? Feel how much I need you?”

This nod is quick and zealous. Because you do. It’s all you feel. This desire to have – to take and ruin. In the best possible way. It’s a similar sensation to the lust you already feel for him. Your hunger to explore the dangerous but loving man you call your own.

“Yeah?” He’s grinning like a mad man at the way you so quickly fall apart. “Can I tell you a secret, darling?” 

You whimper pitfully as you gaze up at him.

Lowering his voice, he tightens his grip. “When I’m with you…I always feel like this.”

With that, he nudges you down to sit on the mattress before surging forward to press his lips to yours. Kissing you so hard, you feel dizzy. It’s perfection. Like quenching a burning flame. Like taking that first drink of water on a hot day. Fixing a desperate need – succumbing to a craving. 

And it feels as though this kiss fixes every one of your problems. Because it does – he does. Breaks you and puts you back together again all in the same moment. It’s almost addicting. You feel insatiable, hands disappearing into his curls as you yank him down until his chest is flush with yours.

The two of you roll and writhe around on the bed for a minute or two before he leans back to offer you air. He knows you won’t take a moment to breathe otherwise, and his smug smirk merely worsens the ache between your thighs.

“Not so nervous now, hm?” he muses.

You hook your leg around his hip and attempt to grind yourself against his thigh. “Please…”

“Please what, dove?” He presses his lips to the base of your throat, trailing them down your sternum and toward your chest. “What’s it feel like, what do you need?”

But you don’t have any answer for him. Instead, all you can do is stare at the stunningly generous man as he works his way down your body. As he unbuttons your shirt and kisses over the swell of your breast. 

The stain of your blood from his lips smears across your nipple before he takes it into his mouth. Sucking and licking at the tender skin while he kneads the other one in his palm.

You arch from the mattress, desperate to disappear into his strong frame while he chuckles darkly and allows his fangs to reemerge. 

He uses them sparingly – not as a weapon but as a toy. A tool in the game of your lust.

The sharp edge pricks your skin, enough to make you gasp his name and tug on him harder. He smiles a bit bigger and carries on with his quest. Moving down your stomach and toward the waistband of your pants.

Cold, nimble fingers pop the buttons free and tug the fabric down your legs. Revealing your trembling thighs to his hungry gaze. He looks at you like you’ve been served to him on a platter. But not in the way another vampire might.

No, Harry’s look of mesmeric adoration lies in the idea of your body. In the warmth of your cunt and the soft skin of your legs. In the way you draw him in, the way you hold him, clench around him.

It’s hard for him to feel most things these days. 

But he always feels you.

He settles his body near your ankles, providing him the right angle and amount of space to spread you open and study you.

His thumb reaches for you. Pushes into your clit before dragging down between your folds as you gasp.

His expression reveals nothing. No inkling as to what he’s thinking but you know his mind is running wild with ideas.

He finds your soaked little hole, circling it once before dragging the wet substance back up and through. 

“Shh,” he coos, taming your desolate cries. “It’s okay, dove. I’ve got you.”

“Har,” you whimper, fingers itching to reach for him as he settles onto his stomach. “Please…”

You can see the reflection of light on his fangs. The way they extend past his red, swollen lips and ghost above your skin.

He nips at your hip a time or two – a slight sting that dissolves into something excruciatingly pleasurable – before he dances his mouth down. Torturing you with what’s to come instead of simply giving it to you.

“You smell divine, darling,” he purrs, groaning deep within the back of his throat. “Just might kill me again.”

You’d laugh if you had the strength, instead peering down your body at him with a desperate need. “H, I need…need—”

“Need me, hm?” He exhales a gentle breath across your clit and it’s so very cold. But it makes you jump, a new wave of arousal seeming to soak the sheets beneath. “Need me to make it better, yeah?”

You nod swiftly. “Yes…yeah. Hurts, Har.”

“Hurts?” he repeats with faux sympathy. “Oh, dove. Bet it does. Bet it’s all achy.”

Your head moves on its own accord, and you feel your stomach quiver when his cool hands curl around your thighs, keeping them spread.

“I imagine,” he whispers, returning his eyes to your pussy. “Cause I know how much it aches for me.”

He dives in, tongue lapping at your warmth and wetness without mercy as you cling to the sheets and arch from the bed.

His arms fold over your hips, keeping you pressed down and pliable to his intentions as he begins. Licking, sucking, and nibbling at certain spots – but never the spot you need him most.

The tantalizing edge of his fang grazes your soft, sensitive cunt. Sometimes harder, sometimes softer. But always impatient, desperate to feel you anyway he can.

Truth be told, you suppose he enjoys feeding on you this way just as much. In fact, this is what he claims is his nourishment whenever he’s feeling weak and unwell. One taste of your pussy and he’s a changed man.

He has you every day. Makes sure you’re at his beck and call – which you already are, anyway. 

If he’s working, if he’s cooking, if he’s reading. He merely gives you a look and calls you by that familiarly loving nickname, and next thing you know, you’re sitting on his face.

The stretch of your muscles is almost distracting, but not nearly as distracting as his groans of pleasure. The way he curses to himself as he swallows you down. Nudging at your cunt with his mouth like you’re the best meal he’s ever had.

And then…those perfect lips find your clit. He sucks, and moans, and you cry out his name. Grasping onto his hair in a futile attempt at stability and more.

He lets you tug him closer. You imagine – if he were still alive – he’d be suffocated by your pussy. Which…he’d probably enjoy.

As it is, he continues his ministrations almost mercilessly while you squirm beneath him and attempt to buck up against his tongue.

“I know,” he whispers, almost soothingly, and it feels like a vast contrast to the way he forces you into so much pleasure. “Know, darling. Can hear your pretty, little heart racing. Try to breathe, yeah? While you still can.”

You suck in a greedy gasp, eager to obey, as you focus on the sounds coming from between your thighs. It’s sinful and sensual and it echoes around the room until it’s all you hear.

“Doing so good, babydove,” he murmurs, glancing up just long enough to see the first tear slip from your eye. “It’s a lot right now, I know. I know, but you can take it. Always do so good for me. Let me see you cum, yeah? Let me see this pretty pussy cum for me.”

And you want to more than anything. Chasing the need in your own belly along with the need from his venom. The combined rush of ecstasy that makes stars explode across your eyelids as more destitute sounds fall from your tongue. 

His hands suddenly slip beneath your back, forcing you from the bed as he repositions you and nearly pulls you right through him. 

Large fingers grope the tender flesh of your ass as he holds you against his mouth and sucks the sensitive nerves between puckered lips. 

“Tell me,” he ushers softly, a golden hue to those vivid eyes watching you closely. “Tell me how bad I need you. Tell me how much I love you—”

“Har,” you gasp, trembling in his touch. “Can’t…can’t…m’gonna cum, I…please—”

“Try. Tell me. Tell me that you feel me—”

“I do,” you whine. “I do, I feel you. Feel you, Har. So good. It’s so good, please—”

“All right, darling. You gonna let me taste you? Need to taste you, darling. Can’t live without it—”

“Harry—”

He pulls away just enough to raise his hand and smack it down your cunt. The cold metal of his ring catching your clit before two more spanks are laid in succession.

You moan loudly – almost undone by the eroticism itself – before he dips back down, and grazes the delicate bud with the edge of his fang.

You feel him slip a finger inside. Pumping you once – twice – before he adds a second. Wanting to fill you and finger-fuck you to the edge as quickly as possible.

It hits you then. Overpowers you and knocks the wind from your lungs. 

You fall apart in his hands, against his tongue. Moaning and whimpering as your toes curl and your eyes roll to the back of your head. It feels as though you cum twice as hard – perhaps a result of the venom or the symbolism of his need for you. The way your taste has satisfied his thirst.

“Yes, yes…there you go, that’s my fucking girl.” His tone is rough but riddled with lust. He groans like he’s never been filled with so much devotion. An anxious almost obsessed sound that drags your orgasm on at least a few seconds longer. “Give it to me, dove…fucking give it to me—”

“Harry—” You gasp his name like it’s the last sound you’ll ever make. Tears building in your eyes before they cascade down your warm cheeks. 

Ever the sadist, Harry works you through until your cunt is throbbing and far too sensitive to the touch. Despite your cries and whimpers for mercy, he carries on. Thrusting, licking, and sucking until you can hardly breathe.

Eventually he releases you and leans back. Perhaps able to hear the erratic racing of your pulse beneath your chest as he now works to hush your anxious mewling.

Crawling up your body with care, his fangs retract, and he buries his face in your neck to keep you still. Pressing his chest to yours in an effort to help calm you.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, lips grazing your skin as he speaks. “It’s okay, dove. You’re okay. God, did so fucking good for me, darling. Always taste so good, make me so happy.”

You tiredly grasp onto his arms, needing to hold onto him just as tightly as he’s holding onto you. Wanting to share in this moment as he smirks against your throat. 

“You okay?” he asks you now. “You’re nervous again.”

“No, I’m…I’m okay,” you assure him through a pant. “I just…it feels so good. So…heavy, you know? Overwhelming.”

He chuckles softly and pushes up onto his elbows to get a good look at you. Thumb finding your cheekbone as he traces the delicate curve of your face with great adoration. “Are you saying I overwhelm you?”

You nod, smiling giddily as you tug your bottom lip between your teeth. “In the best possible way.”

Grinning himself, he leans down to capture your lips with his. And it’s soft and slow and an oddly angelic end to such a devilish evening.

“Har?” you whisper, lashes fluttering shut as you nose your way under his jaw.

“Yes, dove?”

Your kisses trail below his ear, making his fingers flex. “You know what I think?”

“What's that, darling?”

You begin to smirk wickedly as you slip your hand around the back of his neck and tug him closer. Allowing the edge of your teeth to finally make contact with his skin.

He stills.

“I think it’s my turn now.”

Just wanna put in a quick note and clarify that even though she was feeling a bit of his horniness and desire, she was still very much horny all on her own HAHAHA this was 1000000% consented to from beginning to end from both parties!

Also vampire!harry is so fun?? And I loved this?? WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME??

~ Freaky Fun Masterlist

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Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @scndsofsummer @theofficialprongs

[ervotica]

pretty little bird

vampire!azriel x fem!reader – blood, feeding, rhys watches (more on him soon!). approx. 600 words.

Azriel's ears perk at the shuffling of bare feet in the next room, both his and Rhysand's heads turning curiously as you stumble into view, eyes teary.

You're rather akin to a newborn deer, unsteady as you creep on the balls of your feet, shivering and cradling yourself for comfort.

Rhys doesn't think he's ever seen Az soften with such urgency, his steely countenance turning on its head as that first fat tear rolls over the swell of your cheek.

"My angel," he coos. "Come to me, baby."

You seem to hesitate, but you're quickly enticed closer by the roaring fire at the edge of the room, lulled into his arms without much protest at the crackling promise of warmth. Hues of gold and orange split into dappled rays that climb the expanse of Azriel's bare chest, the milky skin stark against the dark of the sitting room. It's an incentive for you to venture closer, a reward for spending your days shrouded in cold and darkness with this creature that calls you mate.

Rhys quirks a brow. "Who's this?"

It's as though those two words have set every fight response Azriel's body possesses alight, his temper flaring; a growl rumbles through him, his grip tightening as he snatches you up to his chest as though somebody will attempt to steal you away. Rhys lifts his hands in surrender.

"She's mine," Azriel snarls, baring honed canines. "Mine."

You go soft, submitting in an attempt to placate the vexation that crawls through his every vein like molten lava. Your head spins, fatigue weighing down your every limb as though they're filled with molasses. He grazes the edge of a fang along your pulse point. Just enough to break the first layer of skin.

He watches the drop of blood well, ooze and drip, settling in the hollow of your throat.

You sniffle, stomach flipping. He knows what you want; he just enjoys the desperation lacing your tone. You need the release of the feed as much as him. "Please."

Onyx strands of hair sweep over his eyes as he dips his head low to flatten his tongue across your throat, humming lowly at the tang of copper that bleeds over his tastebuds. He nudges your jaw with the tip of his nose.

"So polite, little bird," he hums. "Lean on me, baby. Az has you."

You hiccup, pushing closer into his space. A scarred hand brushes the hair from your throat, fangs entirely unsheathing as the tips of his teeth pierce your tender flesh.

You whine and thrash like a wounded prey animal, but you're quickly subdued as his venom seeps into your bloodstream. Euphoria bursts behind your eyelids, skin buzzing with the high that a feeding always brings you.

The other male's voice is muffled as though your ears are wadded with thick cotton. You sigh when Azriel slips his arms beneath your shoulders and hikes you upward with frantic urgency as he takes longer, dragging mouthfuls, squeezing as though the blood will pour from your wounds more rapidly.

"Az, you should stop. You'll kill her if you feed for much longer."

Azriel pulls away just enough to pant and growl, "She's fine."

The twin puncture wounds pulse and gush when Azriel tilts his head to watch his brother, irises entirely engulfed by inky darkness.

Your head drops, limp against his shoulder. Your limbs are flooded with warmth, body heavy like treacle and sated with the venom that twines around your veins like ivy, burrowing beneath your skin. Azriel's tongue flattens against your throat to clot the blood, sealing your seeping punctures.

"Shall we get you to bed, pretty bird?" he coos, mouth tilting upward blissfully. Your nose scrunches and you mouth at the bare skin as his silk shirt falls away from his form.

You're simply too tired to open your eyes, or protest, or even respond.

[ivyithink]

okay, but armand getting to see baby!vamp lestat? still so excited about how different the world is to a vampire?? teaching him stuff and witnessing the joy that brings???

[juicysnoop]

watched like 7 seasons of buffy in half a month something is wrong with me anyway ... him

[smittenwithlouis]

One Last Time

Main Pairing: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson Rating: Explicit Status: Complete Word Count: 24k Summary: “I mean it, Harry, this is the last time,” Louis breathes out as Harry kisses down his neck.

“Sure,” Harry mumbles into his heated skin.

The action makes Louis shudder. He hates how good it feels. He knows he should be revolted. Disgusted. But god does it feel so damn good.

Or: Louis is a werewolf, and Harry is a vampire. They’re supposed to hate each other, but they’re too busy fucking to care.

Written for the @bottomlouisficfest 🐺🦇

[nandermoenthusiast]

The coffin lands with a crash, Nandor already out of it gracefully as his vampiric nature grants him.

“Have you survived the fall Guillermo, are you allright?” he asks haughtily and with a barely concealed predatory grin at the yelping heap of limbs and clothes that is Guillermo right now. Of course he was never truly worried for his well being, Guillermo might be human, but he is no regular human, if his van Helsing blood has anything to say about that. Nandor just likes to tease.

“Yes master, im fine, i just wasnt prepa-“

Nandor offers him a hand out of the coffin, the way Guillermo has done so many times before for him. Nandor looks at him curiously, Guillermo looks all flustered right now, hes cute. Hes always cute of course, but damn. He hasn’t even realised the obvious parallel yet, just took his hand absent-mindedly as he was rambling about something. His hair is all mussed up too. Cute.

Probably the moment registers into Guillermo’s mind as Nandor hears his muttering protests suddenly cut short. He’s looking at their gingerly intertwined hands and kinda looks like hes about to swallow a frog, or maybe like he’s about to start crying again. This fucking guy. Always a theatrics with him. But Nandor has learned to lean into his little guy’s moods. He leaves him to his maybe horny maybe emotional thoughts and finishes helping him out of the coffin.

The air is thick between them now. He can sort of hear Guillermo’s heartbeat from this distance, the little guy probably has a concert thumping in his ears right now. Nandor enjoys playing with his food, always has, and today is no different. He takes a step closer. Guillermo takes an infinitesimal step back. There is a wall very close to his back. Right where Nandor wanted him.

“You know as i was saying about the cameras, Guillermo…” he starts feign-casual as he very not casually hovers over him, black eyes boring into him with the fire that only very rarely comes out in front of the crew. Guillermo looks like he’s a mixture between disbelieving and like he’s gonna pass out from hyperventilation at a moments notice. It’s an endearing mix.

“Y-yes, you -were saying something about your hair…” Guillermo couldn’t physically look away from Nandor if his life depended on it right now.

“And other reasons”, very seriously.

“- Yeah”, an exhale.

Just look at his eager little eyes. Should he put the guy out of his misery? Well come to think of it, should he put himself out of his own misery? He’s been in love with the guy for the better part of a decade now. Of course he’s not about to say that now. Let him play the part of suave vampire for his Guillermo, let him fullfill any fantasy he’s ever had, at the very least this very first time they do this dance. There will be time for the mushy stuff later. Come to think of it, what is Nandor doing?? Acting on years of pent up sexual and romantic tension, of course, but what is he setting himself up to? Heartbreak.

Violent, earth shattering heartbreak. Maybe not today, maybe not in 10 years, but soon. Soon to a vampire anyway. No- you don’t know that. If Guillermo loves me, he might find a way to not leave me like he always does. He always does leave. But then he also always comes back. Doesn’t he? Nandor loses himself in these thoughts for a moment, and Guillermo seems to notice his mind is suddenly somewhere else.

Oh, to be known so completely. Oh, to have a worthy partner, a partner who knows everything about you, a Lazlo to your Nadja, a Charmaine to your Sean, a Sire to your Baron. And to have to lose it in a matter of years. Just his luck. But also like Colin Robinson said, dont be sad cause its over, smile cause it happened.

Nandor’s eyes keep searching Guillermo’s as he draws closer and closer, eyes intensely registering every microexpression on his beloved’s face, the little crinkle between his brows and the small nervous smile that’s forming around his lips. His hands land seamlessly and delicately on either side of Guillermo’s face, and he feels his breath hitch. He really doesn’t give a flying fuck if he’s gonna suffer for a thousand years, Guillermo is here right now and he looks like he’s gonna break under his touch. One hand goes to cradle his head, thumb delicately swiping over Guillermo’s ear and pulse point, as Nandor brings their noses together and they breathe the same air for a moment. The other hand is held gently across his cheek, just there, a reassuring weight. “I’m going to kiss you now”.

And Nandor kisses him.

[vole-mon-amour]

here

here

Bonus (because I can):

tweet

[itsthebiting]

the reunion between louis and lestat in tvl is so sweet and then it ends like this??? (also i need this to be in the series!)

[lordsukunas]

vampire!choso who likes watching humans bc he thinks their lives r interesting, but he finds u especially beautiful :3

he doesn't hide his vampire side from anyone, but it's not like he could if he wanted to. he's pale asf, dark eyeshadow around his eyes, dark stringy hair, and has fangs. it's pretty obvious lol

despite that, he doesn't wanna scare u away. so he makes sure to try and hide his fangs, to look a little more alive and less corpse-y, and he does his absolute best not to stare at your throat. he really, really does. he can't help a little glance every once in a while tho bc it just looks so yummy n enticing, kind of like the pastries he watches u take bites out of

n its rlly awkward bc u can tell he's trying not to smile w his teeth but u don't really get why. vampires r kinda like myth n nobody takes them too srsly bc theyre never out and about. thankfully for choso u find his awkward smiles and absolutely dead, pale complexion a little endearing

u also notice him staring super hard at ur neck sometimes and u have to go "???" before he snaps out of it with a buncha apologies. kinda weird dude but ok!

anyway hes just a silly little vampire guy who has a crush on u pls give him a chance. pls.

[vampirenicotine]

oh lestat, you got a big storm coming.

[lizardkingeliot]

the moment i allowed myself to think "could this rockstar lestat/photographer louis fic be a multi-chapter thing tho" i doomed myself to it not only absolutely being a multi-chapter thing, but one of those multi-chapter things that starts exploding in my head to the point i need a notes doc to keep track of the vibes and the yearning and the scenes that force their way into my head while i'm just trying to live my life and do my lil tasks...

[collegeboysam]

My main Devil's Minion theory for the finale, taking into account both the show so far and parts of the books, is this:

Armand has been giving Daniel his blood (in his drinks, in his food, in his IV drip) to cure his Parkinson's. But, without realizing, it caused secondary effect he didn't expect: the blood is what helped Daniel remember what happened in San Francisco. And will continue to help him remember more and more as time goes by. Perhaps do even more than that in season 3.

Leaving the long ass explanation as to why I think this could be it along with heavy book spoilers:

To me, one of the biggest clues for this is that Daniel does not remember anything about the first interview beyond the moment Louis invites him to his place (Daniel says he always wakes up at that moment anytime he thinks about it), which is the exact moment when Armand appears.

He does not remmeber him this until he goes to Dubai and is around Armand for the first time in decades.

Daniel's answer about him "waking up" at that point everytime indicates he has tried to remember that day all these years but he never could go beyond that point. And I don't think that talking about it with Louis is what made the memoris return.

The first time Daniel sees Armand in the dream after all these years, is the exact same day that he gets his levodopa transfusion. That night, after he falls asleep on the couch, he sees Armand arrive at the bar and from then on he continues remembering more and more details.

This ties back to the books, since in Queen of the Damned and more so in the Devil's Minion chapter we find out in the 70s-80s Armand used to feed Daniel his blood. Since the first time Armand feeds Daniel, he has visions. It creates a connection between him and Armand but later on also allows him to have very vivid dreams and have visions that only vampires should be seeing.

It's an established canon detail that consuming Armand's blood as a human makes Daniel have dreams/visions related to Armand and other vampires.

We still don't if DM's happened as it did in the books (at least the part about his 12 year relationship with Armand, since he ofc never got turned in his 30s), but there is a clear connection with the book.

In the show, he shouldn't be dreaming and remembering Armand in the first interview, since Armand erased his memory with his mind gift. Armand is a really old vampire, he has Marius' blood, his erasing of Daniel's memory should not have stopped working randomly.

And I don't think is random, I think it's happening because of the vampire blood is mixing with his medicine and food. It's making him remember and see things he once forgot since the mix is not only curing him, it's taking down the walls Armand himself put in his brain.

I don't think this is what Armand intended, it can be a secondary reaction he didn't anticipate.

Why the mix works on Daniel in particular? Could be any reason they want: Armand's blood is that powerful since he's ancient, it works because Daniel used to drink his blood in the 80s so his body is used to it and now mixing medicine with said blood has a reaction it never has with anyone else, it works because it's mixed with this particular medicine, etc. They can go with many options here and change it depending on what they decide for DM's in the 80s.

Now, another reason why I'm suspicious about the blood-in-medicine bit is another spoiler from the books: Doctor Fareed is actually a vampire. Not only that, he and his immortal companion and maker (Seth) develop medical science on vampires. Additionally, they run a clinic for the treatment of mortals, particullarly for incurable medical conditions. Parkinson's is incurable.

To me it's not too far fetched that Armand has asked Fareed this favor, of mixing the levodopa with his blood.

What vampire blood can do in the books isn't really a deus ex maquina, since it has it's limitations and it doesn't seem like it could be so potent it can cure every human condition ever and recover vampires from all injuries, but the show has not followed 1:1 all the rules from Vampire Chronicles either. Armand being immune to the sun being one of them, and it's a pretty important one, yet they added that right in.

This doesn't have to mean that vampires could now cure all incurable condutions with ancient vampire blood. It could be only Daniel: because he had it before in the 80s and formed a connection to Armand, or maybe because it's Armand's blood in particular (and he's not interested in helping anyone else lol.)

Transfusion aside, we now have the hint that Daniel likes his martinis better when Armand makes them. Because Armand puts more vermouth in them. Per Armand himself, Lestat tasted "like vermouth and annihilation". Could it be that vermouth is just generally what vampire blood tastes like?

Daniel could like the taste of Armand's drinks because they had traces of his blood in season 1. Armand could know how to make them perfectly because he remembers how Daniel likes them (maybe he used to add the blood as an ingredient just for the taste back in the day lol, since Daniel liked it so much.)

There are other scenes where we see Daniel asking "Rashid" personally for a refill of what looks like wine in one episode. And Armand does grab the cup to bring him more. We see him making Daniel a martini in another scene in particular, when Louis tells him "he's lingering."

Daniel having different drinks, courses of food, more drinks, dessert, it's shown many times in the first season and Armand is always around.

Perhaps Armand saw that only feeding Daniel his blood wasn't doing much and that's when he decides to go with the IV drip. More direct method, straight to Daniel's veins. As soon as he does, Daniel starts to remember.

Being "Rashid" is what gave Armand this advantage, since it would have been suspicious to have an ancient vampire who supposely "doesn't know Daniel", making him martinis and bringing him drinks, keeping tabs on his medical treatments and scheduling him a doctor.

But as a supposed member of the staff and pseudo asistent, Daniel thought it was kinda normal that Armand was doing these things for him.

And why would Armand want to help Daniel? There's a couple of options to choose from:

DM's did happen in the 80s and he still cares for Daniel, loves him even: It's important to note that one of Armand's big hopes when he's with Daniel is for Daniel to grow old. Armand wanted him to live his mortal life and mature, experience life as a human to its fullest. Daniel would argue and constantly try to push Armand to turn him when he was "still young". (Also motivated by Armand's own looks, he wanted to be with Armand as an immortal and also appear young next to Armand.) But for Armand, what was important was Daniel living his human life, as he would love him regardless of his physical age. Not to mention Armand is sure the maker-fledgling bond is destined to fail, and all fledglings will eventually resent their makers, he doens't want Daniel to hate him and end their relationship. Daniel argues that as a human he could die at any moment, as a vampire he can be strong like Armand, he doesn't have to worry about protecting him, and they can be together forever, young and now. This causes tons of fights between them. The show has actually given Armand what he wanted in the books, and it's Daniel growing old. In the show, he made Daniel forget their relationship when they reached the impass of Daniel wanting to let himself die on purpose so Armand would have no option but to turn him. Armand, not wanting to take Daniel's life away, erases his memory to protect Daniel and let him have a normal life. (There's also the theory that erasing so much, 12 years, out of Daniel's mind is what have him parkinson's eventually.) Additionally, per the books, Armand was correct and once he turns Daniel he starts to resent him as his maker and they break up for a while. Armand knows Daniel is strong and can take care of himself, so he doesn't force him to stay. But Daniel loses his mind while being away from Armand (Armand doesn't know this), ends in the care of Marius of all people, but eventually Armand goes looking for him and Daniel becomes his immortal companion once more, choosing him over Marius. Daniel and Armand end up together as endgame. I think the show has changed the time Daniel spends with Marius, and has instead made the breakup happen between them from the 80s to the current timeline, by the means of Armand never turning him and erasing his memory instead.

DM didn't happen: Let's say DM has not been a thing so far (but with all the looks between Armandaniel and all the devil minion's easter eggs they have put in these 2 seasons, I doubt it. But hey let's consider!) Louis said Daniel was a testament of their relationship enduring. Armand is currently desperate to save it, so he's saving Daniel to somehow show and hint to Louis their relationship should too. Daniel can't die when Armand knows his relationship with Louis is deteriorating, it could be taken almost as a sign that is time to end their relationship as well. In this scenario, I imagine DM's happens after Dubai. Louis and Armand break up, Armand follows Daniel because he blames him for he breakup (since he opened cracks in their relationship) and is when he tells Daniel to keep him entertained or he will kill him, starts stalking him, etc. This also makes sense because originally, Armand starts stalking Daniel in a time period he and Louis have broken up.

Extra: Does Louis know of Armand's plans? Unclear to me. I think it could go either way. Armand is so good at making plans and knitting webs to get wat he hopes/wishes for, he could be doing the entire thing without letting Louis know, going along with the interview because he has other interests for having Daniel close. At the same time, I think Louis wouldn't mind helping Daniel stay alive so he can live longer, publish the book, and I think he considers Daniel a friend. He even offers him the dark gift at one point in the 1st season. But does Louis know of the time Armand spend with Daniel if DM's happened? We'll see.

Finally, I believe this leaves them with many options for season 2:

Does Daniel start to get addicted to the blood? Does he need to keep consuming it to continue to get better? Will consuming it more and more cause for more memories of Armand to return?

Not only that, he can start having visions that directly connect "The Vampire Lestat" with the main plot of "Queen of the Damned". He can be the one to start seeing what Akasha is planning.

The actor for doctor Fareed is going to appear again in season 3. I think that's particular. Even if he's a vampire, he doesn't appear until way later in the books and so far he has only appeared for Daniel's sake. He could be continuing his treatment, giving him more of Armand's blood, and in season 3 Daniel could keep on remembering more and more about Armand or start to form a connection with him because now he needs his blood to stay/get better, but that connection could lead to many other feelings and situations.

That's what I think so far.

I'm more inclined to believe DM's did happen in the 80s, since there have been many clues scattered around these two seasons, but even if they decide to make DM's happen in the current timeline, the blood-feeding could still make sense to me.

But hey, there's also the option that DM did happen, but something health related affects Daniel and Armand sees himself forced to turn Daniel into a vampire in the season finale, since he cannot live with the idea of Daniel dying. Which is why he was maybe giving him his blood in the first place. Having fed him his blood before (and now) could affect how Daniel behaves as a vampire.

And hey, if all this is for nothing and Armand never gave him his blood and I'm fully delusional 🤡, then I guess I'll use it for a fic or something hahaha since I think it makes sense to me anyway lmao.

One way or another tho, there are enough hints for Armandaniel to come to usssss in season 3 FOR SURE.

[oddsconvert]

I dunno if magic ones are okay but if so, body swap w august and Declan?

If not: Declan + cute puppy (or other animal if he’s allergic)

BODYSWAP?!?! YES. THAT ONE! I HOPE I DID IT JUSTICE! 😅

TW: body swap, mentions/reference of previous torture/captivity, vampire whumpee, vampire caretaker, bloodbag whumpee, drug mention

-

Declan’s eyes snapped open, adrenaline gushed through his veins. An unquenchable thirst clawed at his throat and a primal hunger wrenched his stomach. Never, in his whole sorry life, had he felt so starved - even throughout all his stolen years in Vince’s cruel hands. A desperate craving needled him, but a craving for what exactly? He couldn’t quite put his finger on it…

He cast off the blanket and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, but the familiar numbness and heaviness in his limbs had somehow completely vanished. Instead, a sudden surge of energy pulsed through Declan. He felt light, almost buoyant. His frailty had washed away - his muscles now toned again, bulged beneath his clothes, and his bones no longer felt the weight of concrete. 

Disorientation overwhelmed him as he stumbled to his feet, movement still so foreign to him. His eyes frantically scanned his surroundings. He found himself not in the room he had drifted into a pain-filled sleep in hours ago, the room he had lay helpless and dormant in. 

Crystal chandeliers bathed this room in a soft, ethereal glow. Rich, velvet curtains draped the large windows, blocking out all and any harsh light of day. A stone fireplace, currently dormant, dominated one wall, its mantle adorned with a collection of antique artifacts and towers of leather-bound books. The air was thick with the scent of exotic incense. There was no mistaking that this was the vampire’s bedroom. 

Declan’s mind raced, fear and confusion warring within him. Why would August move him to his bedroom? He feels more and more like a caged animal by the day, even if the cage is gilded. The vampire’s intentions are forever a mystery to Declan.

He staggered towards the bathroom, eager to quench that nagging thirst. He spun the tap on, cool water rushing into the basin. He leaned over, lapping greedily at the running water like a dog. But it wasn’t enough. He drank and drank, until his tongue grew fatigued, but the thirst persisted. Gasping for breath, he gripped the edge of the sink. In the corner of his eye, he caught his reflection in the mirror.

A scream tore from his lips as he recoiled in terror. 

Staring back at him was the monster. The vampire holding him captive. August. Blood-red eyes, fangs like daggers and skin as pale as the moon. But as he moved, the creature moved with him, mimicking his every gesture. A cold dread settled over him, he was violently shaking. He lifted his hand to touch his cheek and the reflection, August, strokes his cheek too.

It couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be. It must be yet another nightmare, so strung out on painkillers that he’s hallucinating out of his mind. But as he reached out to touch his reflection, his fingers met cold, hard glass. Panic took over. This was real. He was trapped in August's body, no longer a prisoner in his own body… but a prisoner of anothers.

He could run. He could fight. In this body, he could do anything. He could go home. But at what cost? He could escape August’s clutches, but he would forever be bound to this monstrous form. He wouldn’t even step past the border to human territory before Hunters would dogpile him.

A more terrifying thought struck him: If he was in August's body…then where was August?

Declan bolted out of the bedroom, rushing to find his own room, the room he had been locked in. One by one, he tried each door, his hope dwindling with every failed attempt. Finally, a glint of light caught his eye. With trembling fingers, he turned the handle and pushed the door open.

There he was, laying on the four-poster bed. A husk. His own broken body lying beaten on the bed. A skeletal figure, barely human at that, its skin stretched taut over protruding bones. Tubes and wires snaked beneath the covers and buried into his flesh, pumping god knows what into him. He’s so frail, he looks like if the wind blew too hard, it would snap his twig-like legs. His eyes were so dull and lifeless, just gawking at the ceiling.

A sob burst from his heaving chest. He trembled uncontrollably, muscles seizing and spasming. Declan fell down to knees, hands clutching at his hair. He couldn't bear to look at himself, how pathetic and helpless he looked. Like he was knocking on death’s door.

“D-...D-e-cl…an?” his own voice rasped, strained and struggling. Declan looked up, watching his own body weakly writhe on the bed, the Adam's apple fluttering and gulping as it choked on defiant words. Declan pulled himself to his feet, stumbling back - a hand clutching his heart….well…August’s heart.

“August?” Declan speaks, though it’s August’s deep voice rumbling confidently out from his chest. It’s no great feat to speak, he doesn’t stumble and stutter over every painful word.

Declan could see the light in his eyes, August’s soul in his body. He could feel the terror and anguish.

Declan, heart heavy with a mix of horror and disbelief, sank onto the edge of the bed. He reached out, tentatively touching the cold, limp fingers.

For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt a strange sense of peace. The comfort and connection he had yearned for. But it was a bittersweet solace, knowing it was born from such a tragic circumstance. Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision.

“Do you understand now? Why I am the way I am? Why I’m so *scared*?”

August weakly nodded. Heavy breaths huffed through nostrils, shuffling in pain and discomfort. Of course, he understands now. Ten seconds in that infernal hell that is Declan’s body and mind is enough suffering for ten lifetimes.

Declan stroked his hand. “What do you feel?”, he asked, knowing all too well what the vampire is feeling. He was suffering. August whined in response, lips working overtime to try and form the shapes of his words. “D-D…eath-”, he groaned.

“-Like any second you’ll see the light and when it comes for you, you’ll run towards it?”

August nodded again, a tear rolling down his…no, Declan’s cheek. Declan thumbs it away as quick as it falls.

“That’s why I need to go home. I’ve lived a near decade, scared that every day would be my last. I just…want to go home. I want my mom. I want my dad…before it’s too late. I don’t want to waste another day.”

August silently sobs and nods ever so slowly again, eyes squeezed tight and pressing more salty tears free. He signalled for the whiteboard on the bed stand, pointing his trembling finger towards it. Declan handed it over. His heart ached as he looked at August, a mirror image of his own suffering. He knew the vampire understood now, the depth of his fear, the weight of his mortality. 

How did you survive this?

"Sometimes I didn't want to," Declan whispered.

August's hand trembled as he scribbled on the whiteboard again.

You're stronger than I could ever dream of being.

As he looked at the vampire, weakened and vulnerable, Declan realised he'd been horribly wrong this whole time. August was no threat, he was capable of suffering, of feeling fear and despair. They were two sides of the same coin, bound by the fragile thread of life. 

You didn’t deserve this. 

Declan squeezed his hand harder. “I don’t believe you deserve this either. As terrifying as it is…this was my lot in life…my burden to bear. I can’t just leave you like this. This body...it's mine. It's broken, but it's all I have. And you...you belong in here.” Declan points towards him with a smile.

August's forced a reciprocated weak and pained smile, his lips twitching.

-

In my mind, they'll return to their own bodies at midnight (we love a cinderella dilemma). But boy do I love suffering, in pain August....need him crying more tbh.