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murfpersonalblog · 10 months ago

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I wanted to respond to this post & tags by @mdeitrick13, after I saw @fishjellylou's response here.

I HATE book!film!Louis. It's actually a very popular opinion, esp. wrt film!Louis--there's a lot to hate, without ever getting into morality politics--from his plethora of stupid life choices, to his hypocrisy, to his whiny attitude, etc. And wrt to pimps & slavery specifically, we can get into all the ways owning & controlling people's bodies, freedom, & autonomy/agency is effed up. But where exactly does LOUIS exhibit any of that behavior towards Armand--book, film, and esp. on the show??? 🤔

Almighty all-powerful all-gifted uber-privileged vamps can get away with literal murder: Lestat can spitefully beat the hell out of Lou, Armand can sadistically torture HUMAN!Daniel, the coven can gleefully kill Claudia & Madeleine (who literally did nothing), Armand can petulantly drive the mentally ill (Nicki & Louis) to suicide--but disenfranchised weak AF desperate HUMAN!Black Louis is "worse" than all of the vamps, cuz he was a pimp who tried navigating the crap hand he'd been dealt the most effective way he could? 🤨🤨🤨

What did Louis do as a human pimp that makes him so much "worse" as a person than Armand is? Since when does AMC/the show or Lou absolve himself of guilt for being a pimp OR a vampire? In Lou's eyes, evil is evil, and he doesn't give vampires a pass AT ALL--eff all the "biological imperatives" Rashid was simpering about. Since when are demonic serial killing cannibals given a pass in the IWTV Morality Olympics, over prostitution? Cuz prostitution & vampirism BOTH exploit human vulnerability & weakness & bodies, and by the show's logic, one is no better or worse than the other--ALL vampires on this show are COMPLICIT as predators feeding off the lives & miseries of humans. Santiago only used the stupid "vampires are monsters" excuse to justify his personally-motivated vendetta to kill Louis, dismissing Lou's experiences to absolve Lestat's flagrant abuse of power against the man he claimed to love whom he knew was weaker than him and thus intentionally "broke."

The whole point of show!Loumand's dynamic is right here:

ARMAND, the 400+ year old Coven Master, stalked & approached & invited & courted LOUIS. Louis never spoke or utilized his past as a pimp when they met. Armand knew Louis was afraid of him ("I thought he was going to kill me....I sensed his ancient power"), and he promised Louis (who'd suffered from SEVERE PTSD after the last older more powerful vampire broke every bone in his body), that he would never hurt Louis, "and I never have," LOL.

In ANY of Loumand's courtship, where does Louis having formerly been a pimp give him ANY advantage over Armand, or the coven? 🤔

Where does pimp!Louis factor in as the "gross" part of their meeting & courtship--when Lou explicitly told Armand & the whole coven that they were NOT companions, and that he had ZERO interest in Armand tryna RECRUIT Louis to join Armand's coven (*cough* CULT *cough*)? 🤔 Who's pimping whom in this situationship? 🤔

Esp. since Claudia's the one who was actually recruited, to try to lure LOUIS in as the one they REALLY wanted to join, so offended when Lou refused ("[Madeleine] must join or die."). They used the same Charles Manson-style cult tactics on Claudia AND Louis!

Rolin explicitly used Charles Manson music in 1x5, but y'all keep missing the links between Lestat & Armand's treatment of Louis & Claudia to talk about how Armand was groomed & abused--by WHOM?! Certainly not LOUIS! And here the tags go AGAIN tryna link Louis with Marius. 🤦‍♀️ (I cannot WAIT till y'all show-onlies actually see Marius in action, not just picking up crap from hearsay.)

Where is Louis the predator out to harm Armand? How is Armand the one being "grossly" threatened by Lou, pimp or otherwise? When did Louis rape Armand, or pimp him out, or "donate" him to someone else? For all Louis' claims that "he's mine" cuz Lou got to top someone who's not his Maker, how does Louis actually come out on top or benefit, being with Armand? 🤔

For all Armand's simpering about "Are you asking me or making me, Maitre?," where does Louis FORCE Armand to do ANYTHING? Louis states what he wants to do/happen (make Madeleine for Claudia; save Daniel from Armand killing him), and Lou gives Armand the CHOICE to do it it or not. Armand could've had the whole coven descend on Lou the night Lou made Madeleine (as we see in the movie, which clearly noticed the same thing)--instead, we learn that he was actually writing/rehearsing the Trial script the whole time jfc 💀💀💀. He could've snapped Daniel's neck, and what could crispety!Lou have done to stop him, hobbling around all burnt up? But he complies, cuz he'd already sabotaged Loustat's chance to get back together by not telling Lou that Les said he loved him; instead CHOOSING to stay with the man who literally just said he's bored & hates being with Armand & literally just tried to kill himself rather than be with Armand anymore--like WTF???? But ARMAND'S the one who's been in danger from Louis!? 🤣 THIS dude!?

OK, Lou was a pimp, but Armand was running the frikkin vampire MOB in Paris--a literal biker gang of Charles Manson sickos! An effing wet room full of offed "heretics and rule breakers" (inc NICKI, who was NEITHER--SUS!!!) buried in the frikkin walls of his torture-basement, but Lou's "worse" for being a HUMAN!hustler, when Armand's a whole cult-leading mobster his effing self!?

On top of the legit torture we see him do to HUMAN!Daniel, playing with his effing food worse than anything we saw Lestat pull in S1.

(x x x x x)

How does Lou having been a pimp protect him from Armand lying about "Banishment," or having his mind wiped for 77 years, or Armand going behind Lou's back to tear out Claudia's diary pages Lou didn't even know about, or Armand throwing Daniel (& Sam & the Talamasca) under the bus to keep gaslighting Lou about the script?

Where does Louis abuse Armand's trust, lying to control Armand's actions? When has Lou hobbled Armand's bodily autonomy, and the thing Armand can(not) physically do? When did Lou donate Armand to other people? Or act outside of Armand's boundaries/consent?)

The whole point of IWTV is to emphasize LOUIS' vulnerability, and how it's constantly exploited & abused by people more powerful than he is--from humans in NOLA & Romania/Eastern Europe, to vampires in Paris, and especially Lestat.

Armand knew immediately that Louis & Claudia were lying about Bruce being their Maker, cuz he's THE best vampire with the Mind Gift. He knew EVERYTHING, and told Louis to his face in 2x2 that Louis's a terrible liar who can't hide anything or keep secrets from him--just like the last older more powerful vampire read Louis' thoughts & used them to seduce him; "Come to me, Louis."

Armand & the whole coven were Europeans who'd never even met an American vamp before--but they knew Louis was a pimp from New Orleans with a whole failed sugar plantation--cuz they they read his mind; what Claudia explicitly called "invaded their thoughts." Santiago called them BOTH out in 2x3 (more subtly with Claudia but straight up explicitly with Louis, as someone whose mind they could all read way easier than hers).

It especially confuses me when show fans complain all about pimp!Louis being with Armand on the show; but make no noise about slaveowner!Louis being with Armand in the books? (Or they're against pedo!Marius being with Armand, but make no noise about pedo!Lestat being with Armand? Let alone Daniel (who, unlike Marius & Lestat, is NOT an Old World European vamp from a different time period with different morals/ethics), or any adult attracted to a 17 year old's body--including book!Louis?) People have shipped Loumand for decades, yet it's only once Lou's a pimp (amongst other things....) that people suddenly care about poor innocent Armand being abused by the evil thug jezebel who got Armand's daughter killed and lied to Armand about his Maker and allowed Armand to be tortured & humiliated by the public with his ankles slashed open & buried alive for over a MONTH so he couldn't escape? 🙄😒

The Vampire Armand is only ever beaten TWICE: by Santino & the Children of Satan in the books, and by Daniel on the show. That is IT. NO ONE else gets the jump on Armand, or gets the upper hand over him--he's not even one of the ones Rhoshamandes kidnaps! NO ONE effs with TVA, or effs TVA over--HE'S the boogeyman of the vampires preying on his own kind, not the other way around.

The sheer IRONY of Mr. "I Could Not Prevent It" Armand as a character is understanding cycles of violence.

You're missing the whole point of AR/RJ putting the former sex slave Armand in relationships with a slaveowner (book) or a pimp (show). It's about realizing how a former sex slave (kidnapped & trafficked overseas to be tortured so bad that his PTSD gave him amnesia) became a powerful vampire with THEE strongest Mind/Spell Gift powers, leading entire covens/cults purging ALL fledglings in their territories who resisted--thus perpetuating SYSTEMIC & INSTITUTIONALIZED ABUSE.

Armand used & abused Claudia's naivety & Louis' trust in him, cuz he lulls victims into a false sense of security before the trap springs open--"NO PAIN."

AR put Loumand together NOT to make a point about how "gross" it was that slaveowner!Louis was taking advantage of former sex slave Armand. It's about how effing ironic and SAD it is that Armand (the one who IMO experienced THE WORST horrors as a victim of abuse in all of TVC) was now the ONLY one in a position of power to PREVENT things that happened to him from happening to anyone else--and did NOTHING. Or rather: he made already bad situations even WORSE.

Armand weaponizes his past to destroy other peoples' futures, victimizing & harassing & abusing everyone as the Coven Master of that EFFED UP coven. He CLAIMS he cannot prevent bad things from happening, flashing 🥺 all day--only for us to find out that behind the scenes, this mofo was a master manipulator who gaslit & schemed against his lover Louis ("alright, I sold him out"), tricked & abused his frenemy Lestat, mutilated Claudia's body and hid the evidence (I PRAY that ghost!Claudia reveals that the Frankenstein scene from TVA happened), and psychologically tortured his human/fledgling Daniel.

Armand was originally intended to be the main villain of TVC, all the way up until the 3rd book, when AR softened Armand's edges & gave it to Akasha in QotD, and Rhosh in the PL Trilogy. ALL of AR's vamps are sympathetic villains, not cuz one is morally/ethically "better or worse" than the other--arguments have been made even to understand Rhoshamandes & Akasha's perspectives. YES, Armand had horrible things happen to him--but LOUIS is NEVER the one who does those horrible things to him, nor does he EVER benefit from Armand's past. Armand ALWAYS had the advantage over Louis, pimp or no. STOP overestimating the Maitre stupidness! AMC already told y'all what that was about!

But y'all pointedly isolate every other vamp from culpability & accountability under the thinly-veiled guise of caring so much about the freedom/autonomy of people's bodies, when really it only serves to spread hate & vitriol for Louis. All I'm seeing in this fandom is the "GROSS" inequity of how Louis is treated & talked about, versus everyone else, and it's fishy AF.

#louis de pointe du lac #the vampire armand #interview with the vampire #loumand #louis de pointe du black #democracy of hypocrisy #iwtv tvc metas

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nightcolorz · 1 year ago

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so funny that people are only simping this hard for Louis because he tells us every single episode he's the saddest most tragic serial killer in the land. Literally seeing people with my own eyes say Louis has experienced trauma and loss Armand can never imagine under gifs of Louis making fun of human trafficking and the palazzo attack.

Like obviously Armand is a deranged bbgirl torturing and manipulating those men for love!! But people treat it like it's a 1v1 pvp whoever has the weakest finishing move is the Objective Innocent Victim, like abusive relationships between two mass murderers aren't more complex than numerically tallying who you think has the most strength points at any given moment. like louis has barely been concealing his disdain for armand since they met. He gives armand NOTHING. all he does is recreate every shitty abusive act he's ever complained about other people doing to him and doing them to armand.

swear the only thing that man thinks about when armand shares his tragic backstory is embarrassment at finding out that the entire time he was bragging about how everyone in the avant-garde movement tooootally like his art more than Picasso, Armand had paintings in the louvre.

Cw iwtv typical sexual abuse talk and spoilers for iwtv s2

ur so right literally say that shit 🙏‼️ I love Louis and I honestly find it so gross ?? How some people act like Louis is only capable of being objectively the exclusive victim in any given situation or relationship. like it’s fucking weird that someone would reduce him so exclusively to victimhood bcus he was in an abusive relationship to point where theyd insist Louis is not capable of causing harm or being a complex flawed person beyond his victim hood. It takes away his agency and reduces everything that is interesting about his character to one dimensional victim which like, why would u die on that hill as someone who loves Louis’s character?? It’s once again, fucking weird. Louis has been presented to us from the beginning as capable of violence cruelty and selfishness, and him being abused by lestat doesn’t take away his capability of being cruel to Armand 💀 I think that some people were so attached to their assumption pre s2 that Armand would be lestat part 2 who is even more abusive that they refuse to accept or embrace the much more complex reality. Loumand is toxic but very much mutually so, there has been thus far nothing to suggest that Armand is forcing Louis to be with him or abusing him in anyway akin to how lestat abused Louis. Jacob Anderson has even spoken about how louis and Armand are mutually toxic and louis mistreats Armand 😭and louis being a fucked up person is like, smth I wouldn’t understand why anybody would want to deny, it’s very overt. And dying on the hill of “Louis is never ever bad” is like, very weird to me especially since Louis is like canonically capable of being sexually exploitative (literally a pimp) and violent and selfish. Like I love Louis!! In all his horribleness 🙏 and you can too believe me 😭

it’s also fucking weird to insist that Armand is always 100% being manipulative and abusive in everything he does towards Louis bcus, especially in the case of him talking about his trauma, it makes some rlly uncomfortable and gross implications?! Like, I’m not here to say that Armand is the most ideal partner of all time who does no wrong 💀 obviously, he’s pretty mf gaslighty and horrible and violent, but suggesting that what is presented non ambiguously as Armand being vulnerable with Louis about his sexual abuse trauma because louis wanted to know the real him is definitely abuse and manipulation is…like fucked up? 😭 like?? The jump to “oh this character I don’t like is talking about being sexually abused to his partner after having a conversation about how they aren’t vulnerable enough with each other, yes this is Manipulative” is genuinely kind of fucking insane I’m sorry 😭🙏 what Armand has been through is incredibly horrific and noticeably difficult for him to talk about and the assumption that since everything is black and white and Armand is bad he must be talking about this with evil intent is dumb and it’s ignorant. Like yes abuse victim talking about his abuse to his partner who explicitly asked for him to share that, wow that is so emotionally manipulative of him. What a hill to die on 🙏I hope u guys who think like this don’t think this way about ur friends when they vent to u cuz omg 😭

I guess my point with this is that I’ve noticed a lot of people in their refusal to interpret Louis as anything but unambiguously in the right all the time r being like unintentionally offensive and ignorant in a way that’s wild to me 😭 Like guuuys, you can love Louis and talk about how his relationship with Armand is bad for him and Armand harms him without insisting that Louis mockingly telling Armand that the man who groomed and raped him as a child “made him into a little bitch” was justified 😭. Also, friendly reminder that Louis’s daughter was raped and abused in a similar way that Armand was, which rlly goes to show imo how fucked up the way he treats Armand’s sexual abuse is. Like if he is so willing to say shit like that to Armand the moment they have an argument I imagine that his empathy for Claudia does not extend so far. He still was a pimp lol 🙏 and it’s been pretty overtly portrayed time and time again that living a good portion of his life having a position of power where he sexually exploits women for money has limited Louis’s perspective and capabilities for empathy for the people who have been sexually abused in his life 🙏 and guess what!! 😋 this is the horrible abusive murderer show, u can still love Louis (I do) while knowing he is horrible 🙏

thanks sm for the ask ‼️

#armand #iwtv #interview with the vampire #amc iwtv #the vampire armand #louis de pointe du lac #loumand #iwtv s2 #iwtv amc #iwtv spoilers #iwtv season 2 #amc interview with the vampire

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mythuzalasheir3 · 3 months ago

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MORE SAF IWTV AU DRABBLES

I wanted to write Lestat!Owen so here’s the end of 1x01 where he turns Louis!Curt :)))

@paranormaltheatrekid @missholloween

~*~

Curt's desperate pleas for absolution and redemption for his weaknesses— his disreputable businesses, the shame he pretended never existed as he was normal and sane and a proper man, and the guilt over seeing his cousin, his only friend, fall off the roof— fell on deaf ears as the confession booth shook and the priest screamed and fought against something attacking him.

The wooden booth stopped moving and someone emerged.

The door to Curt's half of the confession booth was torn off and he was horrified at the sight he was greeted with.

There, in a white shirt, stained with blood, was Owen Carvour, his dark hair loose and pupils blown out as his face was covered with blood.

The British Devil smiled and Curt recoiled, sick to his stomach at the carnage behind Owen. The pews were on fire and there were at least two corpses in sight.

"You think God heard you in there, love?" Owen asked. "In that box with that charlatan? How can you humiliate yourself like this?!"

Thunder crackled outside as something dawned on Curt in horror.

"You killed Lily." He said, afraid and shaky. "It's not fever in town… It's you."

"I give death to the deserving." Owen offered a slight bow. "I'm not the Devil, love, you're wrong about that. But I'm able to give you death."

Curt was stunned into silence and Owen stopped speaking to sprint across the room at an unnatural speed, grabbing a surviving priest by the throat and shoving him against the wall. He savagely tore into the man's throat, spraying his blood across the wall.

"This country shackled you into permanent exile, trapping you within all the roles you've had to play. All of them false, not your true nature."

Curt hated how that made sense. He hid parts of himself, buried so deep that he couldn't face them and wouldn't be able to for a long while. He had to play these parts, so he and his mom would have a decent life, so he would be taken seriously among the older businessmen he rubbed shoulders with on the regular, so no one would suspect that he was… defective, for lack of a better term.

"I saw from the first time we met, how you choke on the rage and the sorrow, like I had." Owen walked closer and took Curt's hand, guiding him out of the confession booth. "I can take that away."

Curt stumbled and they sat down on the floor, Owen's bloody face staring on top of him.

"I can give you the death you begged that degenerate God for." Owen gently cupped Curt's cheek, smearing blood across the human's cheek. "But I will make it pleasant. I can end this life of misery and give you a dark gift, power that you couldn't even dream of. You just have to ask for it. Not even that, just nod that lovely head of yours and say yes."

A part of Curt wanted to protest, to say no, to throw up at all this carnage. But it was continually silenced as Owen truly saw him, the first person to ever do so in his life. And what he was promising… freedom from everything that caused him hurt and destroyed him.

He couldn't help but nod and accept what Owen was promising.

"You are loved, Curt." Owen said gently, his fingers feeling the pulse point of Curt's neck. "And I have seen that reflected back toward me."

"…Truth be told, It frightens me as much as it does you." Owen looked down at the ground nervously before looking back at Curt. "Be my companion, Curt. Be every last part of yourself, and be it without apology. Forever."

Then Owen wiped his mouth before he carefully extended his fangs and bit into Curt's neck, the same place he had taken that 'little drink' weeks ago.

It was not painful, being drained to the point of death.

Curt's head spun with a heady mix of fear and pleasure as he gripped onto Owen's arms, his grip weakening as he lost more blood.

He let out a small gasp as Owen removed himself from his neck. Then Owen offered his own blood to Curt, letting it drip into his mouth before Curt latched on to his arm.

It started with a dull roar, rumbling loudly in Curt's head as he drank, letting it fill him.

Then a loud, even drumbeat reverberated loudly, and Curt began to feel it in every last inch of his body, in his temple, his fingers, his teeth. A second drumbeat joined the second, sending Curt's head spinning. The drumbeats were loudest and most prominent in is veins.

Owen finally removed his arm from Curt's mouth, the wound sealing up quickly. Curt laughed breathlessly as he realised what the drumbeats were. His heart and Owen's, beating in sync.

Curt opened his eyes, seeing Owen on the steps a few feet away from him, the fire behind him making him look radiant.

They sat there, giddy smiles on their faces, in throes of increasing wonder.

#yes I had to title drop at the end #Lestat!Owen my beloved #saf iwtv au #myth’s fics #amc iwtv #interview with the vampire amc #spies are forever #tin can bros #curtwen

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thenightling · 7 months ago

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Someone just tried to use some of Neil Gaiman's horror writing to prove he has a "Dark Soul" because we "Write what we know."

This is un-related to what he has been accused of. This is about writing and writers.

Neil Gaiman was an eclectic writer. He wrote and writes horror, scifi, fantasy, and even books for toddlers.

One of his books is about a sneezy panda bear. In fact it's a whole preschool level book series. Does that mean he's a cute baby bear?

It doesn't matter if Neil Gaiman is innocent or guilty, don't ever pretend writing horror automatically makes you a bad peson.

_________________

Here's my response to the person.

No! No! No!

"What kind of person..."

What kind of person assumes everyone who writes bad things must be a bad person!?? Do you go down the horror section of the book store go "Mary Shelley must play with corpses." or "That Bram Stoker probably drinks human blood and is into necrophilia." or "I bet Stephen King lives in a sewer and lures down children with balloons and promises."

I don't want ANY "Person" in this group who thinks if you write something terrible you are terrible.

Do you believe Anne Rice was abducted by a vampire who was impressed by her killing a wolf pack?

Write what you know doesn't mean what you literally have done or every fantasy writer has been on acid and Tolkien was probably visiting another dimension.

"Write what you know" means what you can emotionally or psychologically relate to. That doesn't mean horror writers agree with their killers and monsters. It means they know the pain of loss, or have been very afraid, or experienced terrible physical pain. The sensations described, the emotions of the victims, that's writing what you know.

What you said creeped me out because long ago I was playing Dracula on IMVU.

I think I was fairly good at it, I incorporated the Vlad the Impaler backstory that is popular in pop culture and hinted at in the novel (though only added at the last minute). One day on the IMDB forums, while discussing role play a girl who plays another vampire actually posted with "I don't think anyone should play a vampire unless they've actually experienced killing a person because you should write what you know."

It may have been trolling but since she, herself, played a vampire it made everyone very uneasy.

Gary Oldman has never murdered anyone, nor has Luke Evans. The guy playing Lestat in the Interview with the vampire TV show has probably never killed anyone. And I'm pretty sure Angelina Jolie never cursed a real baby.

Write what you know has to do with emotional or psychological connection- the ability for empathy, and realism. It's not about only writing what you have specifically experienced. If that's the only thing anyone wrote- we'd never have The Wizard of Oz, we'd never have Wonderland, we'd never have Narnia, we'd never have Middle Earth. Those places aren't real. Tolkien had never met a Hobbit or elf.

I am going to take your post down in ten minutes because YOYU f--king scare me. And anyone else who thinks "Well, he wrote this so that must mean..."

Pat Benatar Wrote "Hell is for Children" an anti-chid abuse anthem that was mistaken as Satanic and pro-Child abuse. Anne Rice wrote Tale of the body thief from the POV of a male, bisexual, vampire with two sex scenes. I'm pretty sure Anne Rice didn't have an anatomical penis.

I've Role played on IMVU as several canon characters and OC (Original characters). I've played Count Dracula, Heinrich Faust, The Frankenstein monster, Jareth from Labyrinth, The Vampire Lestat, Abe Sapien from Hellboy, Lucifer from The Sandman, Morpheus from The Sandman, Loki from Marvel, and several others. I have never killed anyone. I have never sold my soul. I cannot shapeshift.

I can describe these things because I have an imagination. I know my own fears and anxieties. I know descriptions from other authors. I have seen scenes depicted in movies, books, and TV shows. You just have to be creative and detailed and it can look like you know what fifteenth century Wallachia was like or sixteenth century Germany, or nineteenth century New Orleans. I wasn't in any of these places but I know what they looked and even smelt like from books and deduction from my own creative mind.

Write what you know doesn't mean Ray Bradbury had an evil Carnival or Walter Tevis was really a martian, you know.

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foxydivaxx · 2 years ago

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Zosan: Look What You Made Me Do Chapter 5

Sanji will speak to us directly here and boy are you all in for a treat because we finally get to hear from the man in regards to his ahem….perverted dirty mind. Just picture Sanji smirking as he tells you all the naughty things he does. He kinda sounds like Lestat here xD. TW: mentions of sex and abuse

Henceforth, I shall take over the story here since this is my show now. Chopper suggested I write a diary as it helps with my thoughts. At first I thought it would not work given how crazy I tend to be. Turns out it did work as I can now properly digest and dissect my thoughts properly before doing something reckless.

I have always been different. Too kind to many. Too intense for some. Too meek for others. Perhaps that explains my bad luck with women and people in general. Always been a controversial person due to my status as a perverted cook. Many forget I kick ass. But considering my attitude towards women, I do not blame their dismissive attitude.

Truth be told, I kind of took Zeff’s stance towards women too seriously. Listen, I owe that old man my life because he saved me from starvation hence why I take food wastage seriously. So when that man says something, I would stick to it even if it would not serve me any good.

Every single relationship I had prior to Marimo either ended in tragedy or in disaster. I have lost Lord knows how many lovers now. The last thing I want is to lose Zoro. I have always been in love with him ever since the day I met him but did not bother to hook up with him as I thought I was not his type. Yet here we are a happy couple years later.

For years, I have struggled with relationships and my sexual identity. All this is thanks to that useless bastard that called himself my father. I have since disowned him but clearly, he refuses to take the hint hence why he killed Zeff and destroyed the Baratie and everyone in it. He expected me to crawl back to him. Stupid old fool.

As if that wasn’t enough, he had the audacity to send that delusional idiot Akuma after me, pretending to be a pirate with demon powers. Oh how I laughed in my head at that one.

You see the thing about Akuma is that he is a genetically enhanced human like I am. That is why his powers appear demonic. But he has clearly never met a bigger more monstrous demon that could kill him until he met me that is. Yes I can be a demon when you push me that far.

Now why did I mention these two men? Okay, I told the crew about it especially Marimo.

You see, my gentleman image is kind of a mask, an illusion to hide my true sexuality. The ladies must have seen through it and chose not to follow through. I am glad they rejected me because I would not have had the sexual awakening I would have had years later.

Chopper and Zoro both stated that my excessive nosebleeds was as a result of sexual inactivity. They are absolutely right because after Akuma and his guys started fucking the shit out of me day in day out and now Zoro, I feel a lot better.

Oh yeah, I love sex. I will not deny that fact. What made me love sex that much was ironically the way I lost my virginity. There was this customer at the Baratie named Marissa.

Beautiful blonde lady about her early 20’s wearing a beautiful purple qiqao alongside a black coat. She had a welcoming smile and an inviting presence that made every man at the Baratie weak in the knees. Yet for some reason, I attracted her eye. I was just 17 then.

I was trying to be a good boy here, obeying Zeff’s command in regards to not simping after any woman I saw after my young hormones almost lost control when I was just 8.

The woman beckoned to me. I remember freezing in my tracks. Zeff grunted at me, signalling that I go attend to her. I took some small tentative walks towards the woman and gave her a polite smile. How I controlled myself that day is beyond me.

Either way, later that night once I had finished with work, I headed to my living quarters. As soon as I opened the door, my jaw dropped. There was Marissa seated seductively on my bed.

“How did you…get in here?” I say as I immediately close the door behind me. Last thing I wanted was for the old shitbag to find me in a compromising position.

She smiles sweetly and raises up from the bed, gently making her way towards me, like a cat who had just found her prey. “One of your fellow staff members helped to sneak me in here.”

I thought as much. I was in awe of this beautiful lady in front of me. Usually, I do the chasing. So this was a first, the first time a woman would willingly give herself to me.

“I may have to punish some miscreants for that later.But right now…” I then wrap my arm around her waist and pull her closer. “How about you and I have our little moment mon cherie?” I say in the most seductive voice I could muster.

She immediately melts under my touch and without hesitation, locks lips with me. I was a virgin at the time and yet, here I was acting like a pro.

She drove me insane with her gentle touch, the way that hot mouth of hers took my cock and sucked me off. I am surprised I did not lost it there because when someone sucks me off on a good day, I can be quite loud.

Her soft moans were music to my ears as I fucked her that day. I went overboard and fucked her hard. She herself was also a virgin making it even more exciting. That day was amazing. Shame it was a one-off affair. But a good one at that. But that moment began my deep erotic awakening.

It was not just some of the ladies that lusted after me. There a few guys too. One of them followed me to the bathroom one day and gave me a mind blowing blowjob. He also fucked me in the bathroom.

A few of the younger guys at the Baratie have also fucked me as well and it felt so good. Zeff found out and kicked my ass. I did not care and just kept on feeding my sexual appetite. He eventually just let me be. Now, there is a downside to my sexual side which conincides with my nosebleeds.

If I don’t have sex for a long time, I would lose my mind. Yeah you heard that right. I, Black- Leg Sanji am a sex freak. At least I admit it this time.

Whenever we end up on an island, I will do my usual flirting. Now here is the thing; I always knew that Nami and Robin never had feelings for me and that I was never their type. Yet I continued simping for them because well….it was fun. Plus they were beautiful. Still I thought I had a shot with either of them and went for it like the fearless fool I was.

There was also this part of me that constantly wanted love and attention and when I did not get it, I got pissed. Comes with growing up in an abusive, toxic environment. Yet, I also felt I did not deserve any love or affection. So for someone like Marimo to love me the way he does is truly a blessing.

However if a lady showed interest in me, which is rare, that takes me by surprise, especially when I am not being a prude. Unfortunately I allowed my moral code get the better of me and so many people took advantage of my weakness.

For all the gentlemanly shit I do, the truth is I am that boy no one should take home to their mamma. Don’t get me wrong, I can be nice and gentlemanly but the truth that I have slowly begun to accept is that I am a bad boy at heart.

I am so wild and insane and my sex addiction gets the better of me at times. Certainly not something anyone’s mamma wants to deal with.

It’s weird that I refused to acknowledge my sexuality for a long time. I needed release so I would sleep around on the different islands we went to save for a few exceptions.

I couldn’t help myself. Whenever people willingly relieve my sexual frustrations, I oblige them. All that bickering Marimo and I engaged in was him trying to force me to accept myself for once. Ace did part of the job when we started our relationship.

He deserved better than to end up the way he did. I am glad Luffy was accepting of our relationship.

That brings me to Akuma. Now how it happened was this: the fool approached me when I went to the bathhouse alone. Yes Germa has a bathhouse and in said bathhouse, there is an onsen.

I was alone because I needed to separate myself from everyone. I was going through so much shit then and this after I overheard the shit Pudding said about me.

I was still deeply hurt by what she said because I have heard others say similar shit about me and I got reminded of my family and the hell they put me through.

Just when I was deep in thought, I felt a pair of arms wrap themselves around me. I was taken aback by this because as far as I knew, I was the only one in the onsen.

Just then a deep baritone whispers in my ear in the most sinful of ways, “Give into your desires.” He then parts my legs and begins to finger me.

Looking back at that moment, I feel disgusted. So Judge knew that I was bi and decided to weaponise that against me eh? No worries.

What these fools did not realize was that my Haki skills had heightened. So I can read emotions and hearts. So I knew Akuma was planning to use me anyway. Yet I played along because I realized something; he and his stupid crew could be useful.

And so I upped the ante. I became a whore for them whilst gathering enough information to carry out my revenge plot. How did I know Akuma destroyed the Baratie on Germa’s orders? I saw the letter Judge sent to him on his desk. Talk about careless.

Using my Haki skills, I began to manipulate and seduce everyone on that ship. That whole schtick about them being a demon empire? That was all my doing. Yes, I can alter people’s memories and play games with their minds. All I had to do was to seduce them into doing my bidding which is what I have been doing for a while.

I guess the Germa enhancement programme has special benefits especially when my crew mates are being threatened. I love my fellow Strawhats and I will do anything, absolutely anything to protect them. And if it meant selling my body for information, which I have done loads of times, taking my clothes off and getting fucked by Marines and several others, masturbating to distract people, and getting my hands dirty and executing any threats, then so be it.

That is the difference between Marimo and I. He is the warrior whilst I am the spy, the Homme fatale and assassin. I am done being nice. Nice guys always finish last. I am willing to be a monster for the others. No worries, my heart is still there otherwise Marimo would not fall for me.

Speaking of Zoro, he is straight forward yes but he is a great listener. I did not expect him to be that wise. Being a former pirate bounty hunter I guess taught him a lot about people. He can be silly but he is my silly Marimo.

Today, we arrived at an island to stock up on provisions and also take a much needed break. I chose to wore thigh high shorts that showed off my body, especially my most famous asset which happens to be my ass.

Compared to my old self, I walked onto the island with renewed confidence with sex appeal radiating from me. I did not chase after any woman this time around. Instead, all eyes were on me, especially my ass. Jaws dropped as no one had ever seen an ass quite like mine.

I smirk deviously because I secretly relish the attention. Zoro being Zoro wraps his arms around protectively and shoots warning glares at anyone that dares to look my way. That is my ferocious Tiger. Ever the territorial creature. I find that so adorable.

“The motel is right over there. I say we just chill there.” says Nami, pointing at a tall ash grey building a couple blocks from where we were . The gang agreed as we head inside.

Once the accommodations were sorted, we all head into our various rooms. As expected, Zoro and I got a room to ourselves.

“Is it me or does it feel like a vacation?” Zoro asks. I nodded. “Yeah it kind of does. Though knowing the Marines, they are on high alert.”

Zoro snorts. “Yeah. Well, no one touches my baby.” he says with a little growl as he begins to kiss my neck. I giggle and pull him closer. “Come on Daddy. Let’s have some fun.”

He smirked and soon our clothes fly in different different directions as we head towards the bed and begin to another one of our insane sex sessions. We do not even notice Usopp walking in and then out once he sees us naked and Zoro’s cock deep in my ass.

I spread my legs wide so that Zoro can go deeper into me. “Ah yes!! Ah Gimme more Daddy!!” I mewl out. Zoro did not disappoint as he continues to pound into me.

“God you are so beautiful like this.” He murmurs as he pulls me into a kiss. We switch positions and now I am on top, riding him like crazy.

“F-Fuck..” Zoro grunts. I just giggle and continued to bounce on his cock. I then begin to stroke my cock and within minutes, I cum all over my hand and Zoro’s chest. Zoro cums soon afterwards.

“You are making it difficult to concentrate at times.” says Zoro as we get ourselves cleaned and then get dressed. I just laugh. “Oh my apologies Dr Roronoa.”

He takes my hand and leads me to the restaurant of the motel where the others were waiting.

As the story progresses, Zoro and Sanji are gonna fight over who is the actual main protagonist and narrator. Lord help us with this chaotic couple.

#sanji #one piece #zosan #Zoro #roronoa Zoro

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hekateinhell · 2 years ago

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"DA girl if you read all this lol bless you because you asked for thots and I guess I had them big time" but of course 🥹 a good @hekateinhell meta post (so basically, any @hekateinhell meta post) is like chicken soup for the soul.

Such a good point re: the use of "waif"! Lestat constantly thinks of Armand as a child or something close to it (specially in TVL) in a way that is very specific imo. He's obviously meant to look very young and boyish all the time, but the contrast between his looks and his personality, the sheer contradiction of his existence is so shocking to Lestat at first (so innocent, so seductive, so cruel), so it would make perfect sense for him to think of cult!Armand as a "filthy waif" in the context of a dirty, disheveled child.

"That's my all-time favorite Armand description btw" QUOTE OF ALL TIME. I tear up every simgle time I read it, starting from "this was the coven master, surely" lmao Anne was so outta pocket for that one 🤧

"some of my friends and I have this theory that she based Armand's later physical characteristics off of the character Alexi" I haven't read CoSB but I know of Alexi because of you of course! Honestly grateful for Alexi, who knows how Armand's whole backstory would've been like if it hadn't been for him 🥹

"you'd been seen in New York, as handsome and vigorous as you ever were. But I had to lay eyes on you to believe it." I love this one because I feel like the only other person who'd describe Armand this way is Armand himself. imo Louis' version of Armand and Armand's version of himself are actually very similar (and I can only imagine how rare that is) which goes to show just how well they know each other.

"And it's an excellent example of how differently we see ourselves, even superficially, compared to how others see us." Absolutely, specially for someone like Armand who's both been defined by the way others see him but is also at odds with the way he's perceived.

"Daniel romanticized vampirism and Lestat romanticized humanity and they're at opposite sides of the spectrum at these respective points in time" and it's fascinating when you put it like that because even though they were coming from opposite sides of the romantic spectrum, they both reached the same conclusion (and the fact that they probably exchanged notes on all things Armand while at NI as Lestat was writing QotD will never not drive me insane).

tysm for indulging me and turning my silly musings into monumental meta as usual xoxo DA ❤️

Lestat constantly thinks of Armand as a child or something close to it (specially in TVL) in a way that is very specific imo.

He really does! Armand was no innocent when Lestat met him, yet his natural manner with Lestat in the chapter when he's opening up to him and sharing his life story is incredibly vulnerable and childlike (i.e. how he holds the backs of his arms when he's upset, like he's comforting himself). And at the same time he's just recently massacred his own coven! For most of their subsequent canon interactions, I think Armand maintains this demeanor around Lestat — it's something intrinsic within their relationship.

I'm suddenly reminded of where Marius in B&G describes newborn vampire Amadeo (still in Venice, pre-cult) as having a faint cruelty in his eyes. Lestat in TVL sees much more of the evidence of Armand's capacity for cruelty than Marius ever did, and still it's Lestat who feels a greater responsibility towards Armand after the cult is destroyed. He tells Armand how to survive in the current era the best way he knows how to, he gives him gold and the theater, etc. He doesn't even blame him for what happened to Nicolas because he could perceive the level from which Armand was operating. I go back to this quote from MtD often because I find it so interesting that it's Lestat who's saying this to Armand, and to me it's a testament of the guilt Lestat carries when it comes to him, given how everything has played out thus far:

"Why do you care about me?" I asked. "After all the bad things I did to you? Why?"

I haven't read CoSB but I know of Alexi because of you of course! Honestly grateful for Alexi, who knows how Armand's whole backstory would've been like if it hadn't been for him 🥹

I'll just say Anne was so wild for all of that lmao especially as a woman, especially back then. But it's interesting looking at some of her other stuff and recognizing aspects of various VC characters' physical attributes and personality traits scattered throughout. Would I have liked to not have the most tragic blorbo of all time? Probably yes, pretty sure Armand Pain™️ has taken years off my life. Would he still be Armand though? No. (btw there's another sex slave called Laurent that really gives me Lestat energy even though he doesn't look like him js)

imo Louis' version of Armand and Armand's version of himself are actually very similar (and I can only imagine how rare that is) which goes to show just how well they know each other.

DA... fucking ouch, babe 🤧 but I think so too, given what we have to go on! Armand even calls Louis his mirror in TVA ('mirror of patient misery' to be exact). It might not be how others see Armand, or even how we see him, but it is how he saw himself at that point in time. I think as much as they share this all-encompassing love for Lestat, they're able to understand each other in a very simple, fundamental way that Lestat just can't.

You and me both! Since they never actually interact on paper and Lestat's so fucking traumatized post-Akasha, I always wonder how it played out in-universe — either way, I think they'd both agree Armand gives the best Puss-In-Boots Eyes™️

tysm for indulging me and turning my silly musings into monumental meta as usual xoxo DA ❤️

no THANK YOU for always giving me such excellent jumping off points every single time whether it's meta or filth or both!! the way I want to study your brain I swear 🥹♥️

#extra helping of chicken soup for you i hope ♥️#you ask and hekate answers #dungeon anon #armand #vc

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slasherscream · 5 years ago

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ok hear me out. platonic claudia and reader BUT reader is like the rich lesbian wine aunt archetype

this is everything

it all starts when claudia has run away from home. louis and lestat are beside themselves with worry. although admittedly, lestat is more angry at her audacity to run away than concerned for her safety.

claudia doesn’t expect to be away from the pair for long, she just needs a moment. an instant of peace. a peace that alludes her no matter how diligently she searches for it. she wonders if the emptiness inside of her, that tears her chest wide with longing, is anything like the turmoil that so easily eats away at louis day in and day out.

she doesn’t know what she’s looking for when she leaves. she didn’t know she was looking for anything at all. until she finds you.

she ran in the dead of night during one of the many tiring spats between louis and lestat. nothing but the clothes on her back and the shoes on her feet.

when she thinks she’s traveled far enough to rest it’s been days since she’s fed. she only used the night to run, and slept fitfully during the day. she finds and eats her meal with relish and is then left to wander the city streets with her dress and golden curls dripping with blood. that’s when she comes across you.

you gasp at the sight of her and move quite fast for a human, rushing to kneel before her, tugging her this way and that, looking for wounds you won’t find. you smell sweet and heavy. the perfume of a rich woman lingering in the air around you, blending pleasantly with the sweetness of your blood beneath your skin.

just because you can find no source of the blood doesn’t mean you jump to the conclusion that the child is a murderer, obviously.

you take her in your arms - intending to bring her to the law in order to get to the bottom of whatever horrible ordeal she’s been through - when she asks you where you’re going in a voice as light as wind-chimes. you tell her to the police and she begins to weep and crushes you to her body with a strength that startles you, the blood upon her dress seeping slowly into the fabric of your own.

against your better judgement you’re overtaken by a motherly instinct that has never gripped you before and you walk back to your estate, intending to calm and care for the young girl and deal with the law later.

you didn’t know, at the time, that you are living out your last few moments as a human. claudia, as well, did not know that she was going to keep you alive.

you strip her of her bloodied clothing and run her a warm bath. you clean her skin gently with a washcloth made of fine, soft materials. you tilt her head back to wash her hair and tell her to close your eyes now, sweet girl and though she has entered a period of fierce rebellion she finds herself listening to you mindlessly.

there is a moment, while you are washing her hair that she opens her eyes and your gazes meet. she’d been observing you as you went about your task with a seriousness that was nearly comical (you had been around few children and were already considered a spinster by everyone who knew you or knew of you). you look briefly from her perfect, spiraled curls to her piercing eyes and your face softens.

claudia is no stranger to people being disarmed by her looks. it is what makes her such an effective, deadly predator. but for once when she sees your face soften her own does too and she wants.

she doesn’t know what she’s feeling but then you kiss her forehead and tell her don’t worry, love and i’ll take care of you now and in an instant she knows. lestat as her maker, she doesn’t know how to deny herself anything, and already she knows she wants to keep you with her always.

in immortality she gained two fathers, louis and lestat, but she was robbed of so many precious things mortal girls experience, like growing old or having a mother.

she hadn’t known she’d wanted a mother until you.

there was still a hole in her chest that she knew could never be filled. that hole was for things like becoming a woman, watching as her face lost its baby fat and gained wrinkles and lines, falling in love, having a family of her own one day. but looking at you the hole ached less, which was more than enough for claudia, as she was nothing if not realistic.

you only spend one night and morning together with you as a human. claudia knows her fathers are not far behind her and she can’t risk lestat killing you as a punishment or being talked out of turning you by louis.

she turns you while you are sleeping. you wake to her bite. she is not a gentle feeder, but she is draining you of blood so quickly that you faint from sheer lightheadedness, let alone the pain. when you wake you are forever changed.

claudia has already hunted down a human for you to feed off of by the time your heart has stopped and your eyes reopened. they are the same eyes but the person who looks through them is transformed. you are a predator now. you react like a predator when claudia throws the weakened human she has caught and injured onto the bedside beside you. your newly formed fangs rip through tender flesh to taste the most delicious thing you’ve ever smelled and all the while you hear the sound of a delighted laugh and excited clapping.

when louis and lestat find you two it’s been two months since you were turned. long enough that claudia has taught you some semblance of control but more importantly, long enough for you two to grow close. you are both maker and creation. new friends and yet old, kindred spirits. sisters damned by the same curse, the same affliction. mother and daughter bound by affection.

claudia is ready to be reunited with louis and lestat by the time they find her, but only on the condition that she is allowed to keep you. that you are allowed to be part of their family.

louis, while disappointed that claudia turned anyone else, agrees nearly instantly. he’d been beside himself with grief and guilt (which, although not a new state of being for him, was much more severe considering the circumstances) over her disappearance. the mere sight of her cherub face had brought him to his knees.

lestat was angry at the beginning of her disappearance but though he could, potentially, live for eternity, the longer he was without claudia the more his anger transformed to worry. he’d thought louis doted on the girl too much until she was out of sight and suddenly his every thought was consumed by her. was she alright? was she alive? was she lonely? was this, finally, the all consuming bond of a maker and their fledgling that he staunchly ignored?

he pretended to think the decision over so as not to give claudia the gratification of him caving to her will like softened candle wax but she knew and he knew that she knew, that she would be coming home with you, and that you would all be a new kind of family.

it’s an interesting transition for you all.

you’d already been eccentric in life. an orphan who was lucky enough to be left with a family fortune, you’d never had to marry to secure wealth and comfort. you’d kept mostly to yourself despite the depth of your inheritance and the pull it could gain you and you were considered strange by the high society you were born into, to say the least.

being removed from the limitations of human morality was terrifying and freeing. you’d thought you’d been a rebel before. someone on the outside looking in, mostly by choice, and the choice had empowered you. claudia hadn’t offered you the choice to become a vampire but nonetheless you felt more free than you ever had before you met the young vampire.

the two of you would prowl through the streets, dressed in finery, hand in hand, looking for prey and then playfully competing on who could take it down the fastest.

there were many nights that you two would come home covered in blood, melodic laughter drifting through the halls of your estate that had once been occupied by only you.

it amused you endlessly that the halls you’d once lamented had been void of life were now occupied by your newfound, undead family.

matching high society outfits you had made so that the two of you match one another when you go out onto the town? yes, absolutely. what’s the point of being wealthy if not to get matching dresses made for you and your vampire daughter?

i cannot stress enough how lestat, who cannot fathom being close to anyone without using the powers of seduction, would be baffled by your lack of reaction to him. he wonders at first if claudia has already poisoned you against him but you seem perfectly content to be in his company. you just don’t react to any of his flirtatious comments or physicality.

he doesn’t understand until he takes you to a bar and a prostitute, seeing your fancy dress, playfully straddles you and asks if you’d like to spend a night with her. no longer is there enough blood in your cheeks to make you blush but instantly your body language becomes sweeter and softer.

lestat, a known and notorious bisexual, understands immediately 👀

lestat bursting into a room where claudia and louis were peacefully playing piano together: don’t worry everyone! it was a false alarm! i’m still beautiful! it’s just that y/n is gay

claudia is ENRAGED, by the way, that lestat kept making passes at you. you’re hers. you’re the only thing in the world that’s not immaterial and that’s just hers. for awhile it was just a fight to get claudia to let you talk to either man alone. louis was honestly a bit shocked that he was also subject to such treatment by claudia.

( bitter that he is no longer the #Favorite Parent? ..... maybe so... )

louis belongs to lestat, though claudia is sure louis loves her more; and lestat is taken by louis, though he is her creator as well. most days she feels like she is a pawn in a game she didn’t want to be part of.

with you she is just claudia. claudia, your beautiful girl. claudia, your maker. claudia, the family you’d lived without for so long. claudia, the daughter you never would have had or wanted if she’d been forced onto you by way of marriage.

you found one another in the perfect, shakespearean way. a maelstrom of beauty and tragedy alike. two lonely souls, never meant to truly belong anywhere, coming together.

despite being a strictly familial relation the passion and fierceness of your devotion is enviable to all who meet you two.

women will come up to you, drawn by your charms and looks and claudia will cling fiercely to your skirts, fangs barely suppressed. the women, unfortunately, never live for long once they’ve spoken to you.

when you catch eyes lingering upon your brilliant, vicious maker you tug her closer to your side and thank the lord - who you’re sure sees you as an affront to his grand plan - for the unholy strength in your body, fueled by the sweet blood of man. you imagine ripping apart the people who look at your claudia limb from limb.

claudia encourages this protective, instinctual display of your love and affection. she praises you, no matter how bloody or careless a scene you leave behind. she doesn’t say it but you can see it in her eyes. she’s never experienced a mother’s love. maybe she’d had it once but she holds no memories of the woman who gave birth to her. for so long there was just louis and lestat. now there is you mother. the first face she has ever been able to conjure when hearing the word.

after you kill a despicable man who smiled too charmingly at claudia from a darkened alleyway you ask her if you feel so strongly towards her because she is your maker or because you’re family. she places a bloody hand gently upon your equally bloodied cheek and says ‘can’t it be both, my dearest y/n?’ you share wide, fang-tipped smiles with one another.

#the vampire chronicles imagine #claudia x reader #interview with the vampire imagine #iwtv #interview with the vampire #slasher x reader #monster x reader #me: writes one thing for the first time in a month: queen shit??#im a little tipsy so excuse me for spelling errors

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bestnoncannonship · 7 years ago

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Alright..I'mma get in on this VC fancasting debate.

As a director, I often have a LOT of opinions on people's casting decisions. A LOT. (Someday, I'll write a novella on Ken Brannaugh's casting.) So as I see a LOT of fancasts casts based on how people look and few based on whether or not the actor can likely handle the role, I'mma throw my hat in the ring. (Warning....the more I write the less technical and more shitposty this is gonna get!) So here you go! The Vampire Chronicles series if I got to cast and direct it!!

The Brat Prince:

Most importantly....we gotta get us a Lestat. And the choice is clear:

Evan Williams: this fabulous shitposting aesthetic trash is as close to the one and only Vampire Lestat as we are gonna get on this plane of existance. He is all charm and quite light in his loafers and a complete mess.......but most importantly, he has proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that he is able to play a character that does inexplicable and morally reprehensible things while still being read as highly sympathetic, likable, and even a hero. That's what I worry about most with Lestat. He really is a very terrible person who doesn't learn or face too many consequences. And he has to be very very very sympathetic. Not just "Oh I Stan that villain" likeable.....but a true hero. And it takes a very. Special. Actor. To pull that shit off. And this is it. This is the guy. He was hired to play an Iago-esque gay villain type in Versailles, STOLE THE SHOW OUT FROM UNDER GEORGE BLAGDEN (no mean feat as Blaggy was giving a hell of a performance) and made his character a beloved icon. Yeah....I trust him to lead a show. I trust him to be Lestat.

Nicholas L'enfant:

Okay not gonna lie I struggled with this one. There was someone else I wanted to see in this role....but I decided he was better employed elsewhere. And this is who I ended up with:

Yep. George Blagden. See...in the grand scheme of things Nikki is a very low-screentime role that has a LOT of impact on the story. And who better to trust with low screentime that the god of grantaires, who took a few small shots and lines and GAVE US A FULLY CHARACTERIZED GRANTAIRE in the Les Mis film. He is very sweet faced, and easy to like, can make being an on screen depressive fascinating instead of dull and has proven time and time again that he is the master of the complete mental breakdown, complete with horrifying but tragic crazy eyes. Also.....he bears a strong enough physical resembles to.....

Louis!!!!:

Our beautiful depressed dark angel with a vampire eating disorder who has no self esteem and is still in love with his abuser needs nuance. He needs soul. And he needs a sweet and delicate beauty. And so:

Alexaner Vlahos!!! The soulful eyes!! The delicate bone structure!!! The slight tones of simmering resentment!!! The ability to play a character that could have become VERY one note VERY quickly with goregeous amounts of nuance and sympathy!!! Vlavla has quite the varied resume. Mordred. Phillipe. Romeo. Captain Hook. To put it lightly he has a LOT of range and the one through line is he is NEVER boring. He plays a lot of roles that could very quickly become boring and one note (Romeo? Captian snooze right there!). But every second he's on screen or stage he is so completely alive in whatever he is feeling. I TRUST him to keep the entirety of Louis's brooding nuanced and fascinating for an audience and to physically and facially convey Louis's very important internal monologue that we will not be able to hear because this version is going to be from Lestat's point of veiw. I toggled with the idea of making him Nikki for a while....but ended up with Louis for 2 reasons. 1) he doesn't need the scripted plot drama Nikki has written in to make a compelling character and 2) he and Williams share such beautiful chemistry. Whenever they're together, even off screen, their focus shifts so that they orbit each other like bianary stars and any director can see that that's something that should be explored and exploited to add demension to the Louis/Lestat relationship and justify why they keep coming back to each other.

(And so ends the Men of Versailles segment of my fancast. So sue me. There's some incredible actors there.)

Let's return with

Gabrielle De Lioncourt:

The incomparable Alex Kingston, lately of River Song fame, though I met her as Elizabeth Corday, and Doctor Corday is driving this casting choice. I wanted an actor who was an appropriate age to play Williams's mother cause we don't fuck with that women are "old" at 30 shit in this house. And she can carry off the kind of "I will not hesitate to kill a man" BDE that Gabrielle requires without trying, but she's also proven herself comfortable and competent with the level of CAMP that VC requires. I can see her easily showing up on set for a few scattered episodes, slipping easily into the verse, and nailing the kind of woman who can put Lestat in his place then run back off to the jungle. Also....that De Lioncourt hair!!!!!

Marius "Daddy" Romanus:

Yep. This fuck. I can hear it now.... "Why isn't he lessssaaaat??? He's so blonde and prettttyyyyy????" Well....mainly because....I ain't sure this lil fuck can run a show as a very despicable but likeable hero yet. He's admirable. A good actor. A great villain. But not a hero and not heroically likeable. Personally, I'm of the opinion that in 10 or 15 years he will have grown into the ability to play something as complex as Lestat with likability....but for now.....DAMN is he a creepy imperial thing. He's got that "My house, my rules" vibe down. He's preditory. He's distinguished. He is Marius. And he's go the best Roman coin profile I've ever seen.

Armand:

N/A

Ok. Controversial decision....but I want to see a complete unknown as Armand. Send casting out to cast a wide net, scour the world for the Botticelli death machine. But definitely don't pull him from the pool of already famous younguns. Because your Armand needs to be deep. Skilled. And primarily UNSPOILED by the school of child acting that is forced upon child actors. (I was a commercial kid and child stage actor. It was terrible.) Go out and get some twinky fresh faced raw talent so you get depth.

Claudia:

N/A

Big old ditto on what I said above about child actors. A nice doe eyed unknown, preferably without a stage mom.

AKASHA:

Yikes. So many amazing choices!!! How do you follow Aliyah??

With literal human perfection Gina Torres of course!!! Again....I wanted to go with an older woman. Someone who would be seen as an authority to all vampires. Someone god damnned goregeous. And someone who I find intimidating. Also, since I'm skewing a little tall with this cast (at least as TV actors go) I wanted someone who comfortably stands among and above most of them! She's a seasond tested actor, and certified badass. And we know she can steal a scene. Besides if she can look regal as a queen in that weirdass dress they gave her in the serenity movie she can pull off whatever monstrosity costumes comes up with to follow the Aliyah getup.

Khayman:

Don't @ me but....I have a LOT of feelings about Khayman. I love his particularly breed of immortal insanity. I love the way immortality drove him mad into a childlike enjoyment and curiosity. And I knew exactly who has to be casted to play that combination of intimidating ancient and innocent curiosity:

This is Howard Charles. He is capable of playing both an intimidating giant and a sweet soulful cinnamon roll at the same time. I cannot sing this man's praises enough. Am I scared of him? Do I want to hug him? Both? He's also one of the best scene SHARERS I've seen on screen in a long time and that's very important in a supporting role.

Maharet:

Just because Anne Rice doesn't know shit about Mesopotamia doesn't mean we have to follow her in that. I wanted to pull from Middle Eastern or Indian populations for her to best reflect the look of the region in a time that's roughly in line with the pre-dynastic Egyptian mish-mosh associated with Akasha.

So I'm gunning for Indira Varma. When I say this woman has timeless beauty.....I mean timeless. She's as prehistorically hot as she is today. And she's such a strong actress, I want to give her a role that isn't 50% sex scenes. She's got both the warmth and the commanding strength to play Maharet. I would ideally like to get a dancer to play Mekare....someone who can handle the physical interp of the role. Probably an Indian dancer to match Indira Varma.

David Talbot:

In the newly declared tradition of Doctors playing Talbot:

This is the only current Gif I could find of Sylvester McCoy. Known to many as the Seventh Doctor. And to many as Ratagast the Brown. He embodies that sort of huffy aging britishness that David projects, but has the over the top personality that can give us those hints of the vitality of David's youth. Basically I can see this man telling stories about hunting tigers in India. Then when he gets the hot young Raglan James Body:

Luke Pasqualino. Swarthy young troublemaker. But for all the youthful good looks, he proved that he was able to play grace and gravitas as D'artagnion in the final season of the BBC Musketeers. I'd love to give him a chance to explore that deeper part. I also trust his ability to match the energy of a cast, which he did repeatedly on musketeers, and portray both the impulsive self aggrandizing Lestat in the Raglan James body and to play the DarkAU Musketeer type that is Raglan James himself.

That's literally all the Gifs I can put in a post. I know I skipped Daniel......but that's because I have surprisingly few opinions on Daniel.......he's very much a vanilla audience connecting character. I'd almost like to see an unknown in that role....just to see what we a new face could make.

And thus ends my casting of the Vampire Chronicles!!

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whosjunglejim4322 · 6 years ago

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A Bitter Taste-JJK

Summary- Your new roommate happens to be a vampire. He also happens to have a peculiar distaste towards humans, ironically. What happens when he realizes, that you're the only person he’s sorta liked in over a century?

Genre | vampire!Jungkook x reader, best friend!Taehyung x reader, angst, some fluff between bff Tae and Y/n

Warnings | slight nsfw content, mentions of blood

So a vampire and a human walk into a shared apartment..."

The joke will never be even remotely funny, not even when it is passing the pink lips of your best friend Taehyung, his eyes transforming into crescent moons as he laughs exuberantly at his own wit.

You roll your eyes with the ghost of a smile still lingering on your pout, chin in your palm as your metal straw clanks against the melting ice in your empty glass. You finished your Bloody Mary an hour ago, but you just can’t bring yourself to leave the company of Taehyung.

Mostly because the creature who has been your housing mate for the past three months, sort of despises anything that has an actual heartbeat.

You don’t exactly blame him, considering what humans have done to vampires in the past, and the fact that in some other parts of the world vampires are still hunted and killed rather than accepted.

Your city, in fact, is one of the only ones that actually considers vampires as common folk, even having functioning blood banks filled with volunteers ready to help cater to them as to create a safe and healthy environment for everyone involved.

Of course, there are a few bad apples, just as humans, which is why your city does things the way it does.

If they have a safe place to get their meals, there are less rampages or hungry vampires going rouge.

Not that vampires really scare you, which is why you had little to no inhibitions when signing the lease to become Jeon Jungkooks roommate.

Though, it was safe to say that he wasn't exactly thrilled to have you in his quarters. But he was desperate, and honestly was willing to accept anyone. Even people like you, with your rose scented hair and bright, blinding smile.

Disgusting, he had thought to himself. Who even are you? To come waltzing in smelling sweet, to have such warmth within your aura. You didn’t flinch, not even when he was telling you the rules you’d have to follow when living with him.

“First and foremost, keep all of your refrigerated food on the bottom shelf. My meals stay on the top at all times, to keep them colder, and fresher.”

You felt your skin crawl at the mention of his meals, but it’s no like you hadn't expected it. He’s a vampire for god sakes. It still doesn't mean that trying to make yourself a sandwich and seeing a bag of blood is very pleasant, though.

He met your eyes for the first time since you met him, the almost obsidian irises feeling as if they were boring into your soul. You are sure he could hear the beating of your heart, the pounding of your pulse. Maybe it’s because he looked like a walking, fallen angel; dark hair shadowing the sharp planes of his face, eyes hooded as if even looking at you is a task.

Or maybe it was because, quite frankly, biting your tongue was becoming difficult, especially with the tone of his next statement.

“And for no reason should you ever go into my room or study, no matter how urgent your mundane mind thinks the situation might be. Understood?”

You grit your teeth, remembering that he simply is a disgruntled creature and that you shouldn't let it get to you. “Of course, your majesty.”

You aren't quite sure what compelled you to think that a being like him would find sarcasm to be even partially amusing, but it was already to late to take it back.

“Your room is down the hall.”

His face remained stone cold, pink lips set into the same, straight line as they had been throughout the entire introduction. You leaned down to grab the handle of your suitcase, and gave him a jubilant grin as you turned on the heels of your boots and trotted off towards your room.

He grimaced, suddenly feeling as if he needs a drink. He really didn’t know how he was going to put up with you.

“I think I’m gonna head home, feeling woozy.” Taehyung pouts as you push your empty glass to the side, stretching your limbs before you slide out of the booth.

He stands with you, gently grasping your wrists and pulling you towards his lithe figure. You let out a sigh as he looks down at you with puppy dog eyes. “Why don’t you stay over? We can have a movie night and eat our weight in snacks, for old times sake.”

You smile warmly as you wrap your arms around Taehyungs middle, feeling contentment when surrounded by his warmth and sweet, lavender scent. You remind yourself to steal a dollop of whatever lotion he uses the next time you visit his place.

“I wish I could, but I don’t want to piss off grumpy pants by coming home any later than midnight. Isn’t it you and Jimins anniversary anyways?”

You look up at him through your lashes, watching his expression change from one of disappointment, to giddiness at the mention of his lover.

“Yeah but he loves you, and so do I. Besides, why are you worried about coming home too late? Does someone have a crush on Mr. Cullen?”

You groan against his chest before pushing yourself off of him, giving his broad shoulder a swat as you glare up at him, his dark eyebrows wiggling about.

“First of all, he’s much more of a Dracula and-hey! I don't have a crush on him! I’d never-he’d never even look at me like that.”

Taehyung pulls you back into him with a goofy, boxy grin, chuckling at your tipsy state as he whispers in your ear.

“Whatever, lightweight. Just remember who your first and best kiss was.”

You squeal as the mint haired boy begins to assault your face with a series of loud, obnoxious smooches, causing you to push yourself off of him with a grimace as you wipe your face with your sleeve.

You giggle as he throws up a finger heart, your eyes rolling for the tenth time tonight as you pull your phone out of your back pocket to call an Uber.

It is, in fact, true. Taehyung was your first kiss all the way back in sixth grade, underneath the sunset at an empty park after band rehearsal.

There was a time you had a helpless crush on the boxy smiled boy, how could you not? He’s all soft, honey colored skin, long eyelashes shading chocolate irises, and plump pink lips serving as the centerpiece of his canvas.

But, you soon realized that he is much more of a platonic soulmate than a romantic one, and you were more than ok with that. In fact, you were thrilled when you found out that he and your universities most famous dance major, Jimin, began dating.

“Uber is here, gotta go.”

Taehyung groans, reaching over and giving your hands a squeeze. “That was fast, want me to walk you out?”

You smile, shaking your head. “I think I can survive one night without TaeTae’s protection. Plus, your lover boy will be here any minute.”

His lips turn upwards at the mention of his childhood nickname, given to him by you, and his grin only grows at the thought of Jimin arriving shortly to begin celebrating their anniversary early.

“Ok, I’ll see you tomorrow? I’ll have to tell you all about tonight.” he gives you a playful wink as you walk towards the exit, your eyebrows wiggling mischievously.

“Of course, use protection!” you shout at him from across the bar, both of you ignoring any stares or expressions of distaste, You and Taehyung have always been like this, shameless around the other. It’s refreshing, having a best friend like him that seems to break you out of every shell that you are trying to hide in.

“Always, baby!” he shouts back, causing a boisterous giggle to bubble in your throat as you exit, giving him a small wave goodbye.

When you push your key into the lock belonging to you and Jungkooks shared apartment, you realize Taehyung was right. You are a lightweight.

Stumbling through the cold and dark apartment, you begin to think about how obvious it is that you live with a vampire. Speaking of Jungkook, it really bums you out that he doesn’t like you.

Maybe it’s just the alcohol and exhaustion that is making you feel this way, but the more you dwell on it, the more it gets to you. You have been nothing but nice and accepting these past three months since the day you met him, and frankly, its unfair that he treats you the way he does.

So, instead of walking to your room, you decide to make an admittedly unwise detour. You know that this isn’t a good idea, but hey, fuck it, right? If he was going to kill you or drain you of your blood he would have already, it’s not like this is going to suddenly make him angrier than what he already is.

It’s the moment before your palm touches the cold door knob, that a petulant sound graces your ears.

Actually, the more you listen and the louder the sound grows, you realize its far more than just petulant. It’s a cry, sharp and enough for your fight or flight senses to kick in.

All your last two braincells can piece together is vampire, girl, crying, and before you know it, you are impulsively swinging Jungkooks door open.

There are a few things you are expecting to find. Perhaps, a girl getting her throat ripped out. A room covered in blood. A sight that would undoubtedly be Lestats wet dream.

But, to your surprise, there are none of those things.

Just Jungkook, with one knee propped up on his messy bed, fingers digging into a soft pair of hips as he fucks the stranger into his mattress with enough force to make the person hang onto his nightstand for dear life.

You don’t even realize how long you've been staring until you hear Jungkook yelling, one arm in the air as he uses the other to cove his still hard manhood with one of his beige colored sheets.

“Get the fuck out! Didn’t I tell you to never come in here?!”

One look into his raven eyes, and you seem to come back down to reality, feet finally moving as you run out, slamming the door behind you before scuttling into your room, out of breath.

You close your eyes, back against your door as you try to figure out what in the fuck just happened.

You thought Jungkook was murdering someone, but instead, you just found him clapping cheeks.

You feel like crying, quite honestly. You have always been like that, too sensitive for being scolded, too soft to be yelled at. You should have taken up Taehyungs offer and just stayed with him and Jimin, it would have been a hell of a lot better than making your already irate roommate dislike you even more.

You don’t bother to remove your clothes as you slip into your bed, underneath the weight of your comforter. You try to think of anything other than the sight you’ve just seen, but it proves to be even harder than you think when you hear his bedroom door creak open, footsteps padding towards the front door before it opens, and then slams shut.

You are going to hear it in the morning.

The sun warms your skin as its golden rays peer through your blinds, light being the only thing you can see from behind your eyelids.

For a moment you almost forget about last nights disconcerting events. Key word, almost.

Dread fills your empty stomach as you hear rustling coming from the kitchen just down the hall, signaling that Jungkook is awake.

You have three options.

Number one: pretend it never happened, go on about your business.

Number two: just wait until he’s gone, then go make breakfast, and continue to avoid him at all costs.

Number three: talk to him.

In your head, none of these will go particularly well. Pretending it never happened just isn’t going to happen, considering Jungkook practically jump at every opportunity he has to scold you. He will definitely give you hell for this one.

Avoiding him is also literally impossible, since you literally live with him and will have to cross his path sometime or another.

Talking to him, even with all the options being bad, is the best one. Perhaps he will understand once you explain to him that you were tipsy and totally misinterpreted what was going on.

Or maybe the situation is just as helpless as you think it is.

You open your door just enough to make sure Jungkook won’t see you as you scamper off to the bathroom, only catching sign of his back before you are in the clear.

Emptying your bladder and brushing your teeth gives you time to think. Not nearly enough, though. But you figure if you brush any longer your gums will start to bleed, so it’s time to suck it up.

You hype yourself up enough to actually feel semi confident as you walk out, giving your reflection a sigh. You look tired and scared, an image you don’t like.

You know Jungkook knows you have entered the room, he’s a vampire, a stubborn and irritable one at that. But still, he leans against the counter with his broad back facing you as you sit at a bar stool opposite of him.

He is sipping something out of a mug, what most people would presume to be coffee, but with all things considered you know better. Although, it probably is sort of like a vampires breakfast, so it doesn’t really bother you as much as it used to.

It’s quiet until you speak, and you are sure he can sense the lump in your throat, the pounding of your pulse. Sure, like you've stated, you aren't scared of Jungkook by any means, but you are most definitely intimidated at times.

It’s funny, because his appearance can sometimes juxtapose his personality and nature so much, that any one else would think of him as a soft young man with a charming smile and sweet eyes.

If they only knew.

“Listen, I really want to apologize for last night. I-I should have respected not only your wishes, but your privacy above all.”

You take a deep breath, some of the blood returning to your face as you finally get your initial statement out into the open.

He doesn’t reply for a few minutes, which should freak you out, but instead honestly gives you more time to breath properly before he finally does.

“I honestly don’t know if you are an imbecile, or just human. Did you not hear what was going on? Did you just decide to barge in anyways despite specific instruction to never enter my room?”

Despite his words being venomous, his voice is eerily calm. Still, you hate how it’s making you stammer over your own words, how it’s making you feel inferior in a way that's unlike any other.

“T-That's the thing, I didn’t know what I was hearing exactly-” he cuts you off, whipping around to face you with both of his palms flat on top of the granite countertop. A gasp passes your lips as his wicked gaze meets your meek one, your eyes instinctively flicking to his chest as to avoid his malevolent stare.

“Oh I’m sorry, was the please Jungkook don’t stop, not a clear enough of an indication?!”

At his voices rise in octave, you find yourself shuddering, trying to fight back the tears that burn the back of your throat. You don’t want him to see you cry, that's the last thing you;d ever want, in fact. For people like him, you feel as if it will only give them more of a reason to call you weak.

“Cat got your tongue?” he spits as you fail to respond. It’s only a few more moments before you manage to find your voice

“You know what I really heard before I barged in? What I thought was crying. And for a moment all I could see was an image of you, ripping some innocent girls throat out. For the first time, I was scared of you. Terrified, even.”

His countenance twists into one of disgust and confusion, as if you’ve just used a slur.

“And the worst part is that, after I realized I was wrong, I felt awful. Awful for going against your rules, awful for thinking you could ever do something like that. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that I wasn’t too far off the mark. Turns out you don't have to rip some ones throat out in order to be a vile person. I will be out of your hair by next week.”

He’s stunned, for the first time in a long time as you scoot away from the counter while wiping your cheeks free of the tears that spilled from your eyes, hopping off of the bar stool and disappearing into your room.

He feels odd. No, he feels sick, if this is even what sick feels like. He can’t really remember the last time he felt like this, like if he had a beating heart, it would be bleeding out. Ok, that's dramatic, but he can’t explain it any other way.

He doesn’t care if he hurts you, right? No. He does care, that's why he feels like this, right? You have never even shown an ounce of fear towards him, yet you were actually scared last night? Of him?

No. No. This doesn’t feel right. You are Y/N, with an annoying bright smile and sweaters that are two times two large for your frame and who always manages to annoy him to the highest degree with your loud ass laughing whenever you’re watching Brooklyn 99.

In fact, he actually remembers being pissed off at first, at the fact that you never even batted an eye at anything he did that showcased his vampiric characteristics. He is a monster, he feeds on your kind.

Why are you acting as if he is just like anyone else?

Some where deep inside, Jungkook wanted you to see him as evil. That's what he’s thought of himself for an entire century.

But having you cry because of him, admit that you were terrified, to see a dark cloud of sorrow above your head; it doesn't feel as satisfying as he thought it would. In fact, it doesn't feel good at all. It feels like it’s shredding his insides.

What the fuck are you doing to him, and how does he make this right?

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maevefiction · 7 years ago

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Your Light in the Mist - Chapter 35

All the way to Kauai Pasta our phones chirped and rang incessantly, Anne being among the first to reach out. She loved my ring, thought it was the most wonderful news, and THEN I asked her if she’d be willing to be a participant in the wedding party. Her shriek was delightful, quickly followed by her asking me if I wouldn’t rather have someone closer to my own age, to which I retorted that I might have seriously injured myself due to rolling my eyes so hard at her bullshit.

Veronica called as well, and I booked her immediately to help with styling for the event. I was never the sort of girl who had a vision of THAT DRESS, so I had no idea where the hell to even begin. All I knew was that I wanted to be comfortable and not look like a Disney princess, but if I was going to avoid showing up in baggy shorts and a T-shirt, guidance from a professional was definitely in order. Norman texted his congratulations to us both, but other than that, most of the attention was directed to Tom’s device, though I chimed in with my thanks on every call because he insisted upon using speakerphone mode. Such an outpouring of support wasn’t something I was used to, and by the time we got to the restaurant I was ready to hide in the hotel room for a few hours and adjust to being someone’s fiancée.

The fettuccine alfredo was even better than I remembered, and Tom’s penchant for stealing my food even worse. After we’d finished inhaling all the goodness, Simon sauntered over to the manager and suddenly the entire establishment was singing happy birthday to me. Every time I tried to slide down the booth seat and under the table Tom grabbed me and pulled me back up, ignoring both my pleas for help and my obviously empty threats to withhold sexual favors from him if he didn’t comply.

Once we returned to the hotel, Simon nabbed the garment bag that contained my costume as well as the duffel of accessories that he’d brought from back home, and we adjourned to my and Tom’s room while Tom remained with Luke, who’d been the transporter of his contraband. I hadn’t actually SEEN my costume yet, having put my full faith in Simon when he talked me into opting for Lady Loki instead of just plain old Loki. When he unzipped the bag, I peered at its contents, looked back at Simon, back into the bag, then settled my gaze upon a pair of grey eyes alight with mischief.

“Um, Simon? WHERE IS THE REST OF THE COSTUME?”

The left side of his mouth turned up in a lopsided grin. “I don’t understand what you mean, Maude. That’s the costume. Lady Loki.”

I pulled out the pieces. All four of them. “This isn’t a costume. This is a bikini, two pillowcases strung on a belt, and a cape.”

He nodded. “Uh HUH. Lady Loki. The horns and the boots are in the duffel bag. You are going to LOVE the boots, by the way…”

“SIMON. Where is the SHIRT? Where is the SKIRT?”

“Lady Loki doesn’t wear a SHIRT. She wears a TOP. A midriff baring top. And kind of a skirt, but the sides are OPEN so you can, you know, SEE. How do you not know this? You’re fucking…oh, wait, sorry, you’re engaged to the man who plays him. Her. Whatever.”

I flopped down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, left wrist and hand resting on my forehead. “Somehow I doubt that particular look is set in stone. I’ve seen the comics, and looked at a ton of cosplay pictures. There are shirts. There are skirts. And, by the way, even though we’re engaged I’m still going to be FUCKING HIM. My god. What the hell am I going to do for a costume NOW?”

He sat down next to me, the black faux-leather top and bottoms held aloft in his hands. “You know, it’s NOT a bikini. It’s actually a push-up bra and booty shorts. And they’re LEATHER.”

An entirely new sound came out of me as I sat up, a hybrid of a terrified scream and maniacal laugh. “HA! Well, if it’s a push-up bra and booty shorts I suppose that makes everything JUST FINE then.” I touched the shorts to ascertain the exact material. “And that’s not REAL leather. So pffft on you. And my midriff has not been seen in public since…since…like, never and…”

Simon dropped the bra into his lap in order to cover my mouth with his hand. “LIES! Your bathing suit has cutouts in that area. You’ve also exposed bits of yourself on that very balcony out there, and then THE REST of what the good lord gave you as you walked across this very room. And heaven knows where ELSE you’ve stripped down for the sake of carnal pleasure. Come on, Maauuudddeee. At least try it ON.”

My head shook back and forth as I pouted. “I don’t WANNA.”

He leaned in, cheek brushing mine like a cat demanding attention. “But…but…imagine Tom’s FACE when he SEES YOU.”

I stood, snatched the pieces from his lap and charged into the bathroom, peals of his laughter echoing behind me. After stripping naked, I stared at myself in the mirror, taking careful note of the fact that I appeared to be somewhat…smaller. I hadn’t weighed myself since New York in July, and admittedly my clothes had seemed to be getting a little bit looser, but we’d been so busy it wasn’t something to which I gave more than a passing thought. While I’d spent a good amount of my time naked during our road trip, said time was typically spent pursuing matters other than gazing at my reflection, and it was only when faced with the prospect of putting on a ridiculously skimpy outfit that I finally viewed myself with a critical eye. And, realistically, after more than a month of frequently skipped meals and constant activity, I supposed I shouldn’t be surprised that I’d shed a few pounds.

First I wiggled into the booty shorts, my back to the mirror, then stared at the push-up bra. It fastened in the front, which typically spelled massive wardrobe malfunction for me, but I swallowed hard, took a deep breath, slipped it over my shoulders into place and hooked the clasp. As I exhaled, I fully expected it to pop open, but it didn’t. Nor did it pop open when I reached in to adjust the girls. The shoulder straps were easily an inch and a half wide, which perhaps distributed the load more efficiently than most others I’d tried. And my lord, push up indeed. I yelled to Simon.

“Dude, I could serve drinks off my tits. Seriously. It fits perfectly.”

“Of course it does. Boobs may not be my thing, but I’m dead on with sizes every time.”

I snorted. “You’re full of shit. You either peeked or Tom did and told you.”

He scratched at the door with his fingernails. “Whatever. Fuck you. Let me IN.”

As I turned to unlock the door I got a glimpse of myself, mainly my ass from the side.

“Sweet baby Moses, I look like a fucking Kardashian in these shorts.”

Simon flung the door open, grabbed my shoulders and spun me around to face the mirror, busily studying my rear end, shaking his head vehemently.

“Oh honey, no. No you do not. But if you want to I’m sure I can get my hands on some padding…” His eyes roamed over my body, then met mine in our reflection. “Maude. You look so beautiful, I may weep.”

I rolled my eyes. “Please.”

“No, I mean it. And not only are you lovely on the outside, you’re even more gorgeous on the INSIDE. Tom is a lucky, lucky man.”

I turned to face him. “You’re not switching teams on me, are you?”

He pinched my cheek. “Not unless you’re hiding a cock in those shorts.”

“We’re both being very non-PC right now, aren’t we?”

Roaring with laughter, he slapped my ass and ran out of the bathroom. “Being indiscriminately insensitive to all of humanity is one of my favorite things to do with you. Now come on out of there and put on your BOOTS. Then we have to call the wig and makeup person, because I need help too, and then we’ll both finish putting on…”

I interrupted him as I entered the living space. “I’m sorry, did you say wig and makeup person?”

Sighing, he patted my shoulder. “Yes. Tom borrowed someone from the Skull Island set for himself, and we get to use her too. YAY!”

Words escaped me as I wondered what the hell Tom was up to, needing an actual professional for his costume. And it was a wig AND makeup person. My god, could he…would he…I grabbed Simon by both biceps.

“You know, don’t you? You know who he’s dressing up as. You have to tell me, Simon. HAVE TO TELL ME.”

“Woman, I kept the whole proposal nonsense a secret…if you think I’m going to spill something so insignificant you are sadly mistaken.”

I leaned in so we were nose to nose, knowing staring into his eyes was my best chance of detecting a falsehood. The man had a poker face like none I’d ever seen, but I’d witnessed him being less than truthful enough times at the office to figure out his tell. “Lestat. It’s Lestat, isn’t it?” Just the slightest tick to the left. “OH MY FUCKING GOD IT IS I AM GOING TO DIE.”

He took a step backwards, crossing his arms. “Totally not Lestat, Maude.”

“Don’t you try and lie to me, old man. You have a tell, you know. Your eyes shift to the left every time. Every. Time. And they did just fucking now.”

“Um, I’d like to point out that if I’m an old man that makes you an old woman because, HELLO, same age.”

My index finger connected with his chest. “Your attempt at diverting my attention to a potentially inflammatory topic in order to disguise the fact that you’re a lying liar who lies is neither appreciated, nor will it be successful.”

He covered his face with his hands. “Oh lord help me she’s using her Smartypants Businesslady words. Make it stop.”

“Apologies, but this will continue until you opt to proffer a full, one-hundred percent factual, truthful confession…”

His hands fell from his face as he fanned out his fingers in exasperation. “FINE. You’re right. Happy now?”

“NO. Because now I’m afraid of WHICH Lestat he’s going to be. Old school? Rock god? Modern tailored suit with flair? I think I need to sit down.”

Simon shoved me down onto the bed. “Please do, you naughty spoilsport. I’m making my call.”

He wandered out onto the balcony, and I completely forgot about the fact that I’d soon be traipsing around half-naked in public on purpose as visions of Tom in all of Lestat’s various incarnations flooded my brain. Simon’s knuckles rapping on my noggin snapped me out of my trance.

“Martina’s on her way up. Look alive, woman.”

Blinking as I looked up and met his gaze, I reached out and poked his thigh. “So…who are YOU dressing as?”

“Draco Malfoy.”

“You’re joking.”

“No, I’m not joking. Luke and I are coordinating. Harry Potter universe.”

I leapt off the bed. “Luke as Harry? That is just…it’s too…adorable. I can’t wait…”

Simon shook his head. “Ah, ah, ah…not Harry.”

My head tilted to the side. “Not Harry?”

“Not Harry.”

“But…who…Ron?” He shook his head. “Dumbledore?” Another shake. “Hermione?” A snort, then a wide smirk, followed by a deadpan expression as he spilled the beans.

“Snape.”

“GET THE FUCK OUT.” Just as the words were out of my mouth someone knocked on the door. “Shit. Go get that. I’m going to hide.”

He answered, and an hour and a half later we were dressed and ready to roll. Martina had painted my nails gold and adorned me with varying shades of green eyeshadow, heavy black liner, and black lipstick. The wig was black as well, the very realistic faux hair nearly reaching my ass. Golden horns topped it off, thankfully made entirely of plastic, the headband portion set with a huge faux emerald smack in the middle. There were strips of gold sequins taped onto the edges of my bra that formed a triangle, and a matching band to go over the belt portion of the skirt. Elbow-length pieces of fabric that resembled gloves with no fingers were wrapped with gold elastic string, and then came…the boots. They were black leather, skin-tight thigh high lace-ups with a two and a half inch platform at the toe, a 4 inch chunky heel and I loved them more than I’d ever loved any other pair of boots I’d ever worn, ankles be damned. The cape turned out to be way too long…like five inches too long, so that was scrapped because that plus platform boots was a perfect recipe for disaster. One or the other, yes. Both, no fucking way.

Simon’s wig made his eyes stand out even more than his natural blond, and his gleeful expression when he exited the bathroom in his robe made me wonder if he was wearing anything underneath it, at which point I closed my eyes and thought of truffles to distract myself. Martina gathered her things, wished us luck, smirked in my direction and away she went.

I rested my right hand on Simon’s shoulder. “Gotta say, you make a damn lovely Draco. So is this like a May-December romance thing after you’ve left Hogwarts or what? Of course we’ll have to ignore the fact that Snape, you know, DIES…”

“Maude, since you’ve attempted to put a damper on my fantasy I’m going to call your fiancé because if seeing him…and I know what he looks like, Luke sent me a pic…doesn’t shut you up, nothing EVER will.”

“You realize you’ve just essentially invited me to tackle your sorry ass and snatch your phone, don’t you?” As I moved my hand to his chest and began to push, the door opened, and I spun around so quickly I almost fell over. Luke was in the doorway, his black wig in motion, tendrils of hair brushing his chin as his head turned forward. He bit his lip at the sight of Simon, and I heard Simon gasp behind me at the same time. Luke began to stride in our direction, and as he drew closer I saw an arm holding the door open, the body attached to it not yet visible. The fingernails were black, arm ensconced in what appeared to be a very finely woven black metallic netting, the outer portion of the bordered sleeve gaping open, held in place by a black metallic fabric tie between the wrist and the elbow that matched the border. When I noticed that the sleeve didn’t end at the wrist but instead formed a V-shaped hand wrap also made of the border fabric, crossing the top and slipping between the middle and ring fingers, it dawned on me which Lestat I’d be spending the evening with. Surprising myself, I began walking toward the source of my imminent doom instead of running to lock myself in the bathroom.

A bit of blonde hair dangled into the formerly empty doorway, followed by an incredibly pale face…his blue eyes resembled ice crystals, ringed with black liner, lids darkened with shadow, lashes ridiculously pronounced as the result of a heavy application of mascara. His lips were pinker than they normally were, a dusky shade, and the hair, my god, THE HAIR. It reached his shoulders, curly and so, so blonde and I saw FANGS and was just about to lose my shit when he slid fully into view and into the room, knees buckling at the sight of me, leaning on the wall for support.

I nodded. “Same, asshole. Same.”

He laughed, completely exposing the fangs, and I resumed my walk, grabbing hold of his jaw with my right hand when I reached him, tilting my head and leaning in to inspect his canine teeth.

“Are those, like, really…you know…attached?”

He nodded, chin still in my hand. “Uh huh.”

“As in, ‘I can totally bite stuff’ attached?”

His eyes widened, and I felt the warmth of his hand on my belly. “Uh huh.”

I released his jaw and turned to Luke and Simon. “So, um, how set are you on going to this party, exactly?”

Simon whipped his wand from his robes and pointed it at me. “Maude GALLAGHER. You can shag vampire boy LATER. We are GOING OUT. It is your BIRTHDAY. There’s a DJ and we’ve never really been out dancing before and that’s essentially CRIMINAL. I will curse you if I must. I swear it.”

Sighing, I turned to Tom once again, noting that the shirt material was actually rather iridescent as opposed to just black metallic. My eyes closed and my chin fell to my chest as I responded.

“Fine. Fine. Let’s go dancing. But I think we should take separate vehicles.”

Luke cleared his throat. “I hate to be an utter downer, but you’re our designated driver, Maude.”

Eyes still shut, I rested both hands on Tom’s shoulders. “Right. Designated driver. Okay. I can handle this.”

Tom’s arms wound around my waist as he whispered quietly in my ear. “I can’t. I’m on the verge of fucking you right here, right now, right in front of them.”

In reply I ran my tongue along his jaw, not expecting the makeup to be quite so…vile. My eyes flew open as I shook my head back and forth, tongue still sticking out, as if that would help even remotely. “Bleech. That is…man, that tastes HORRIBLE.” He responded by biting my neck, and as I felt the tips of the fangs sinking into my soft flesh I pushed back and away. “Thomas. No. No no no no no. Honey. No.”

As he chuckled I grabbed my phone and keys from the dresser, handed them to him since he had pockets in which to store them, then headed for the door.

“Come on, let’s do this before I change my mind. And you’d better move your asses, because if we aren’t on our way to the lobby in the next twenty seconds it’s game over. I mean it.”

****************************************

Tom had followed me down the stairs, muttering to himself the entire time, eventually jogging down to be by my side as I tried to focus so I wouldn’t fall and maim myself permanently. His right arm linked with my left, steadying me, voice even with a hint of incredulity.

“Lady Loki.”

I nodded. “That’s me. Were you surprised?”

“I fear may never recover from the shock, actually. Luke told me you were dressing as Loki. He left out the ‘lady’ bit.”

A very indelicate snort escaped me. “Lady bit. Lady bits. Heh. Wait, Luke told you?”

“Believe me, it took a considerable amount of effort to even get that much out of him.” His hand squeezed my forearm. “You knew who I was going to be, though.”

“Why would you think that?”

He grinned. “You didn’t faint when you saw me.”

“My, my…what a large ego you have there, Hiddleston.”

“Matches my…”

“Shut. It. And yes, I knew…but all I managed to ascertain from Simon was that you’d be turning up as Lestat, so I didn’t know WHICH Lestat.” I stopped in my tracks, three steps from the lobby floor, as I realized I hadn’t given him a complete once-over yet. His pants were black leather, but a matte finish, as were his boots, the toes squared off, and around his neck was a Sid Vicious-style padlock choker…not an official accessory, but damn, I loved it. “I’d ask if that was the actual Queen of the Damned costume but you’re four inches taller than Stuart Townsend and the pants aren’t short so…” His abs through the shirt were downright obscene, and the waistband of the trousers was low…so, so low…leaning in, I could see not only his entire happy trail but a sneaky peek of the top of his pubic thatch poking out as well. “Okay, I might faint now. Rock God Lestat equals too much hotness for poor old Lady Loki.”

His arm unlinked from mine and slipped around my waist, spurring the completion of our descent and walk toward the exit. “Ah, that’s better. That sort of compliment makes the thought of wearing leather pants to go out dancing in Hawaii much more palatable.”

“Caution is advised, Thomas. Can’t have you chafing anything and ruining my fun.”

We decided to take the Jeep…’decided’ meaning my stating that since I wasn’t drinking, I was driving whatever I wanted. Tom offered to take the wheel for the drive there, and as Simon bitched about how horrific it was to have to climb into the back seat of a Wrangler while wearing a robe I leaned back against the hood area of the passenger side. Tom, waiting for the clown circus to cease so he could tuck me safely inside the vehicle, looked me up and down repeatedly.

“Maude…honestly…you are so, so sexy in that get-up…a level of sexy that should likely be illegal.”

I lifted my arms above my head, feigning a stretch, watching his jaw clench as I wiggled my fingers high above. “Misdemeanor or felony?”

He growled as his head tilted to the left. “Woman. Get in the Jeep.” A slap on my ass as I climbed aboard made me shriek with delight, and another one followed immediately, harder, and I moaned softly for the sole purpose of torturing the poor man, smirking as I heard him mutter ‘bloody fucking hell’ under his breath.

Rob’s Bar and Grill was eight miles from the hotel, and on the twenty-minute drive my gaze moved from my ring, to Tom, back to my ring, then back to Tom, again and again. This beautiful man beside me, currently a living, breathing incarnation of my most favorite fictional character, wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. His life. With me. Us. Together. Which we’d both already known, but somehow, having a circle of silver with a stone in it on my finger made it REAL. We hadn’t been alone since he proposed, and my mind was scrambling to think of exactly how to convey how much everything he’d done today meant to me, but kept coming up blank. The words I wanted wouldn’t fall into place, only floating around my head, scrambling away as I reached out to grab them.

The parking lot was nearly full, but Tom found an out of the way place perfect for a Jeep near the very back. We walked in, four unrecognizable people merging into a crowd of a hundred or more of the same. I hadn’t thought about it until that moment, but tonight, no one had a clue who we were, any of us. Granted, if someone was a huge fan they’d know Tom upon close inspection, but at a glance…no way. For him, it was probably a very freeing feeling…but for me, it was license to behave badly on the dance floor. Dancing Queen was cranking on the sound system, the giant wall of televisions displaying an endless array of sporting events, and Simon immediately bolted for the bar, Luke in tow. I turned my head to meet Tom’s gaze.

“Do you require a beverage as well, or shall we just get down to it, Mr. Hiddleston?”

He took my hand and pulled me out onto the dance floor, wiggling his hips seductively as we worked our way through the crowd. “Down to it, if you please.”

My brows rose as we found our place and he faced me, then placed a hand on my lower back, pulling my hips in to meet his own. “Oh, I please. Do do that voodoo that you do, baby.”

Luke and Simon joined us midway through the next song, Calvin Harris’s Feel So Close, and we all lost ourselves in the music, dancing with abandon to Lean On, Connected, 1999 and Brick House before I needed to take a bathroom and soda break. Not dipping my costume in the bowl was a challenge, but I figured I’d continue to make it through the night unscathed since I wasn’t getting hammered, as long as I remembered LIFT came before SIT. The music was too loud for conversation, so we stood together between the bar and the DJ, admiring all the creative costumes. There were superheroes, of course, Superman, Batman and the Joker among them, along with werewolves, Dracula-styled vampires, zombies, witches, a ballerina, a Playboy bunny, someone who was either dressed as Weird Al or was actually Weird Al, and my personal favorite, an older couple with the woman in costume as Jimmy Buffett and the man as a giant margarita glass, complete with salt on the rim.

When Wonderful Night by Fatboy Slim began to play, we ditched our drinks and wormed our way back into the middle of the dance floor, and as I watched Tom gyrating and spinning and jumping I was reminded of how music was such a powerful force in both our lives, how it moved us, allowed us to express our own through someone else’s words…and in that moment, I thought of THE song, the one that could say for me all the things my mind couldn’t seem to put to order as yet. As Wonderful Night finished, I yelled in Tom’s ear.

“I’m going to see if the DJ takes requests, okay? Be right back.”

As I walked to his table, he looked up, saw me, then looked back down and began typing on his phone. Upon reaching him, I bent down and shouted above the din of Cotton Eye Joe, which, frankly, I was thrilled to me missing out on.

“Hi there! Love your set so far…I was wondering…do you take requests?”

He nodded, stood, then motioned for me to follow him into the kitchen, where it was insanely busy but much quieter. Shorter than me, native Hawaiian if I had to guess, slightly overweight with dark hair back in a ponytail and tucked under his backwards baseball cap, dressed in a black Walking Dead T-shirt and white board shorts, a huge smile lit up his face and made me smile in return.

“For you? I absolutely do. Especially if you promise to keep dancing. You and your fiancé are the life of this party, man.”

My head tilted to the side, and he laughed heartily, extending his hand. “I’m Sammy Hale, otherwise known as All Hale the DJ. My wife Melanie is a huge fan, of you and Tom both. You should have heard her screeching when she saw his Tweet earlier…heck, maybe you DID. It was that loud.”

I laughed as well, accepting his proffered hand and shaking vigorously. “Maude Gallagher. But you knew that already. So, you recognized Tom? Nicely done.”

“Do you have any idea how many pictures of that man I’ve seen? But honestly, I knew who you were first, and once he started dancing I was sure it was him. She shows me videos, too. Congratulations, by the way. Here, look at what she posted on Facebook when she found out.”

He handed me his phone, and I focused in on the screen.

“Tom and Maude just got engaged right here on the island…I’m so happy for them! What an exciting time! And imagine…what if they decide to get married here? Even crazier, what if they choose my place for the reception? I’m such a hopeless dreamer, LOL.”

Eyes wide, I returned my gaze to Sammy. “Her place?”

“Well, it’s not really her place…but she’s been there since college so it feels like it is, I guess, plus she’s very passionate about her job…she’s the head event coordinator at the Coconut Beach Marriott.”

“Seriously?”

He nodded. “It’s a beautiful hotel, perfect setting, amazing beach…”

“Oh, I’m aware. That’s where we’re staying.” I pulled up his contacts, which was probably rude, but when fate intervenes you have to set such things as. “This is my personal cell number. Will you have her call me, please? We are getting married on Kauai, and the Marriott never crossed my mind as a reception location until right now. June 29th, 2016…that all needs to be kept under wraps, though…”

He looked shell-shocked as I handed him back his phone. “She has prior experience with celebrity weddings that required thorough confidentiality. Wow. This is…this is off the hook. It’s going to take me a good while to convince her I’m not yanking her chain when I tell her.”

Hand on my hip, I pointed at him. “Tell you what…Tom and I will do a video hello for her to send first so she knows for sure you met us, then you can break the news later. Sound good?”

His head shook back and forth slowly. “Sometimes, the universe just sets such amazing things you never expected right in front of you…”

“HA! Tell me about it. So…about my requests…” I provided him with my short list of songs, then revealed my plan, which he seemed nearly as excited about as I was. I went out and brought Tom into the kitchen to film our video hello for Melanie, who was, we were told, out trick or treating with their three little ones, ages eight, five and two. Once it was sent off, it was back to dancing. And, for me, waiting, riddled with anxiety and wondering if I’d be able to pull off what I’d decided to do without fucking it up too badly.

I lost track of time and space, especially after being whirled around to You Should Be Dancing, and how many songs had played between that and Poison by the Prodigy, I had not a clue…but that song and the one after were my cues, and I was at once grateful to have recognized the first but terrified that it was almost…time. Tom grinned fiendishly when he heard the opening notes, and we danced separately at first, him pausing during one section where the beat allowed me to do some hula-like hip shaking, then spinning me around so he could grind up against me until it was over. That was followed Steve Aoki’s Freak, during which I fully exercised my right to behave badly. Very, very badly, rubbing my scantily clad nether region up and down his leather covered thigh, bending over in front of him, his hands on my hips as he bucked against me, grabbing my ass occasionally, ending with his turning me back towards him and lifting my leg up so I could wrap it around his waist. After the last beat, I pulled away from him and headed once again to the DJ table, and Sammy handed me a microphone. Several deep breaths later in the strange silence, I began.

“Um, hi. Terribly sorry to interrupt the tunes, but…” I pointed at Tom, whose makeup had begun to run just a tiny bit, hair damp with sweat, body glistening with it as well, standing and staring at me with an expression of puzzlement upon his face. “That beautiful man right there…a few hours ago, he proposed to me in the most spectacular way possible.”

The crowd cheered and I held up my left hand, waggling my fingers. “Of course I said YES.” Everyone laughed, and I honed in on him, everything else becoming a blur. “Tom, I love you. So much. You…you are my everything. What you did for me today, how much my life has changed since we met here, on this island, back in June…I can never seem to find the right words to properly convey how it’s made me feel. So, I’m going to use someone else’s. And I’m going to sing them, because I think you kind of like it when I sing.”

The crowd had cleared around him, and he’d come closer, now standing six feet away, and as he nodded I could see his eyes had filled with tears. The song began to play, Flyleaf’s All Around Me, which was probably unknown to most of the folks at Rob’s, and perhaps to Tom as well…but it was perfect, and I sang along with Lacey Sturm, though Sammy had muted her vocals down to what essentially amounted to background noise.

“My hands are searching for you My arms are outstretched towards you I feel you on my fingertips My tongue dances behind my lips for you This fire rising through my being Burning I’m not used to seeing you I’m alive, I’m alive I can feel you all around me Thickening the air I’m breathing Holding on to what I’m feeling Savoring this heart that’s healing My hands float up above me And you whisper you love me And I begin to fade Into our secret place The music makes me sway The angels singing say we are alone with you I am alone and they are too with you I’m alive I’m alive I can feel you all around me Thickening the air I’m breathing Holding on to what I’m feeling Savoring this heart that’s healing So I cry (Holy) The light is white (Holy) And I see you I’m alive I’m alive I’m alive And I can feel you all around me Thickening the air I’m breathing Holding on to what I’m feeling Savoring this heart that’s healing Take my hand I give it to you Now you own me All I am You said you would never leave me I believe you I believe I can feel you all around me Thickening the air I’m breathing Holding on to what I’m feeling Savoring this heart that’s healed”

As was my habit, I lowered my chin to my chest once I finished. I knew I’d struggled with a few bits that were at the upper edge of my range, but to my ear, at least, it had sounded okay overall. When I raised my head up, I saw Tom, openly weeping and rushing towards me, wrapping his arms around me and burying his face in my neck as the crowd began to applaud and cheer. I rubbed his back as he murmured words of thanks and adoration in my ear, finally pulling back to look into my eyes.

“Pretty sure I already knew it, but now it’s completely crystal clear to me…asking you to be my wife was by far the smartest decision I’ve ever made, and likely ever WILL make. Thank you, for saying yes, for being willing to spend the rest of your life with me, ME, for loving me, and for that song. I will never forget this day, this hour, this moment…my god, how I love you…”

I poked his shoulder. “Dude. Shush. You’re totally stealing my thunder.”

We both laughed, and when we heard ourselves do so over the sound system, it dawned on me that the mic was still hot, and I brought it up to my lips again.

“Well, now you know why I had to resort to singing, right?” The crowd erupted in laughter as I flicked the off switch, and seemingly out of nowhere Luke and Simon arrived, embracing Tom and I from either side. Simon’s wig was mildly askew, and I made a huffing noise.

“Um, Simon…did you, like HEAR me sing or were you, like, BUSY?”

A rare blush spread across his cheeks. “So, who’s ready to head back to the hotel?”

Luke was red as a beet as well, and I snorted.

“I’m not sure whether I should be pissed or proud. How about I decide on the ride?”

They bolted towards the door, and Tom took my hand, leading me outside and to the Jeep without another word.

****************************************

The relative silence continued as I drove, just the noise of the wind, all of our windows rolled down to let in the night air. We said our goodnights in the hallway, and as soon as the door closed behind us Tom had me up against the wall, a sense of deja vu washing over me. His mouth found mine, tongue thrusting in roughly, groaning as I bit down on it gently before sucking firmly. Moving my head the way I wanted was entirely too challenging with the horns on, so I yanked them off and tossed them across the room, along with the arm wraps. He buried one hand in my fake hair, and I could feel him fumbling behind me with the other, searching for the bra clasp. I grabbed his arms, pulled them in front of me, then placed his hands on my breasts, hoping he’d get the hint. Instead, he opted to show off his motorboating skills, followed by testing his fangs, dragging them back and forth across my still-covered nipples.

“Fuck. Tom. Front. It’s in the front. Take it off. OFF.”

A moment passed as he pondered the mechanics of the thing, followed by my boobs springing free as he slid the straps off my shoulders, down my arms, off my wrists, pulling it from behind me and finally dropping it unceremoniously onto the carpet. The right nipple was his first target, laving it with his tongue, sucking it into his mouth, then biting it gently until I swatted him away, at which point he switched to the left one. Using his hands, he pressed my breasts together, tongue sliding back and forth quickly from nipple to nipple, my head flopping back against the wall, eyes closed. Suddenly, he was gone, and when I opened my eyes he was staring at the belt, and when the latch that closed it couldn’t be easily located, he forced the belt and attached fabric over my hips, taking the booty shorts along with it, tapping first one leg, then the other, prompting me to lift each in turn so he could slip the shorts over my boots and move the belt out of the danger zone.

I watched as his eyes roamed over me, standing naked but for my thigh-high boots, and I could see he was rock hard right through the leather. Reaching out, I lifted the hem of his shirt and yanked upward, and he lifted his arms, licking his lips, eyes rolling back into his head as I paused to flick his nipples with my tongue. He stepped back, completing the removal of the shirt himself, grunted, then rotated me roughly until I was facing the wall. It was then that he spoke his first words, other than wishing Simon and Luke a good night, since we left the bar.

“Arms above your head, all the way up. Hands on the wall.” Short, curt, and nearly a growl. I complied, moaning as his hands grasped my inner thighs, pushing outward, indicating that I should spread my legs. I complied with that, as well, hearing the sound of a snap coming undone and zipper being pulled as I moved. His cock dripped into the crack of my ass as he gauged our alignment.

“That’s it. Just like that. Don’t move a muscle.”

His left hand wrapped around my wrists, holding them to the wall, and with his right he guided himself to my entrance, just the tip of him nudging inside. As I began to push backward, the same hand moved first to stroke my belly, then downward, his middle finger reaching into my folds to circle my clit as he thrust forward, my hips hitting the wall as he slid home. He’d left just enough room to allow his finger to continue its stroking, but left me no way to move, pinned in place hanging on his cock. And because apparently that wasn’t enough torture, that’s when his fangs sank into my neck, causing me to orgasm without even the slightest warning, clamping down on him, desperate for friction but unable to attain it.

“Oh god oh my god ohmygod Tom…I need…need…you…move…you have to move. MOVE. Please. PLEASE.”

He ignored me, focused intently on my neck, biting, sucking and finally licking the spot he was finished with, then moving on to another. That pain, mingled with the pleasure originating from his consistently stroking finger, drew me to the brink, easing off whenever his mouth relocated, and just when I was ready to begin to genuinely protest against his edging, he began circling his hips in time with his finger.

“Is that better, Maude? Need my cock in motion, do you? Need to feel it rubbing against every bit of you, pressing against your walls, round and round we go, where we stop, nobody knows?”

“Fuck off.”

He stopped moving.

“Okay, fine. How about fuck ME instead?”

Nothing but stillness. Even his finger had ceased its ministrations.

“Thomas.”

Nada. Time to break out the big guns, then. Fulfilling, months later, a request he’d made back in New Orleans. I started to sing Closer.

“You let me violate you, you let me desecrate you You let me penetrate you, you let me complicate you Help me I broke apart my insides, help me I’ve got no soul to sell Help me the only thing that works for me, help me get away from myself”

He swallowed, hard enough that I could feel it against my back. I continued.

“I want to fuck you like an animal I want to feel you from the inside I want to fuck you like an animal My whole existence is flawed You get me closer to god”

He began moving again, but much faster, adding thrusts to his circling.

“You can have my isolation, you can have the hate that it brings You can have my absence of faith, you can have my everything Help me tear down my reason, help me its’ your sex I can smell Help me you make me perfect, help me become somebody else”

When I got to the word ‘perfect’ he groaned, loud and long and full of neediness, almost throwing me off my tempo as he let go of my wrists, pulled out of me and spun me around.

“I want to fuck you like an animal I want to feel you from the inside”

He lifted my left leg by the back of the knee, holding it aloft and allowing me to wrap it around his waist as he shoved himself back into me, eyes on mine, wild, pupils fully blown, jaw clenched, tips of the fangs resting on the edge of his lower lip. I leaned back against the wall, his weight pinning me again as I lifted the other leg and wrapped it around his waist as well.

“I want to fuck you like an animal My whole existence is flawed You get me closer to god”

He began slamming into me, pulling out, then slamming in again, our gazes still locked, my hands clenched together behind his neck. I leaned forward to run my tongue across his lips.

“That’s it. Come on. Fuck me.”

His breathing was labored, his reply more of a grunt as he moved faster and faster. “Like. An. Animal.”

“Mmm hmm. Just like that.” I began bucking against him as his finger found my clit again. “More. Harder. More. Make me scream.”

He lowered his head, breaking eye contact in order to sink his teeth into the unmarked side of my neck, and that’s when, I did, in fact, scream. Entirely too loudly for well past 9 PM, even on a Saturday. The bite grew ever harder as he stifled his own scream, spurting inside me as my walls convulsed around him, finally letting go just as I thought the skin would break.

We stilled, coming down, without separating. He leaned back a bit, inspecting his work.

“Well. That…I…lord, are you all right?”

I snorted. “I think it probably looks worse than it feels.”

“I sincerely hope that’s the case. Sorry, love. You singing to me in conjunction with watching nearly every man in that bar gawking at you resulted in my feeling incredibly…territorial.”

“Men were gawking at me?”

Both eyebrows shot up. “You didn’t notice?”

I shook my head. “That’d be a big ‘ole NOPE. Probably because that, like, never happens. And don’t be sorry. I spent a good portion of the evening relishing how those fangs felt on my neck and dying for…more.” A huge grin spread across my face. “I adore your feeling territorial…like you enjoyed my jealousy, I suppose. Next time if the urge to shout ‘Stop ogling my girlfriend you blood louts!’ arises, I totally won’t hold it against you if you succumb to it.”

“Fiancée.”

After unwinding my legs one at a time and ensuring the solidity of my feet on the floor, I removed my hands from behind his neck and stared at my ring as he slipped out of me. “Fiancée. By the time I’m used to saying that, it’ll be ‘wife’.”

He kissed the tip of my nose. “But that will be the only other name you’ll ever have to get used to. Well, except for mum…”

I looked down at myself, naked but for the boots and the ring, and began to giggle.

A smile spread across his face. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, really. Just that there’s a man in leather pants, wearing a blond wig and sporting vampire teeth with his cock hanging out, talking to a woman wearing only thigh-high lace-up leather boots, an engagement ring and a smile about…about…” My giggles turned into chortling. “KIDS. About having kids. And I can’t help but see it…us, when we’re like, fifty, sneaking into a bedroom late at night, neglecting to lock the door and a Hiddlespawn wandering in and seeing us…like this…ohmygod…”

He threw back his head, laughing that infectious laugh that was uniquely his. “We’ll just explain that sex is a natural thing, that it’s a wonderful, beautiful expression of love between two people and that sometimes…”

“Bwhahahaha! SOMETIMES, kid, you inadvertently discover that your parents are kinky as fuck when you don’t KNOCK before entering a room.”

After composing ourselves, we provided wig removal assistance for each other, then hit the shower. Tom got out before I did, and just as I finished drying off and putting on my robe there was a knock at the door. I turned to Tom, eyes wide.

“Christ, Simon and Luke have to be passed out by now for sure, so who the hell is THAT?”

He shrugged and answered it, his black shorts hanging low on his hips, and when the door closed he turned around, a covered dish in his left hand. He walked to the desk, set it down, and removed the lid, revealing a cheesecake topped with strawberries, a tiny Happy Birthday pick and six candles. I swiped the side of it with my index finger, then licked…and as soon as it hit my taste buds, I gasped.

“Hiddleston. That’s a Carnegie Deli cheesecake.”

Nodding, he leaned in to kiss my cheek. “Did you think I’d dare forget CAKE? Happy Birthday, Maude.”

I pinched his arm. Hard. He jumped, squealing. “Sorry. I just needed to make sure you were real. So now I have confirmation of that, which is cool. But a real…what? That’s the question. Because you CANNOT be human. And…whatever it is that you are…how is it that you’re…mine?”

His arms wrapped around my waist from my left side, chin on my shoulder. “I hope you realize that I ask myself those same questions. Repeatedly. And, I think in order to answer them, we have to consider that…maybe…maybe apart, we’re human…but together, we’re something that transcends that, those earthly, tangible limitations.”

“Huh. You know what? I think that together…that something…it manifests itself as human again. That’s…it’s…that’s…children.”

A sharp intake of breath from him, followed by a gentle kiss on my neck. “I believe you’re on to something there, my love.”

Twisting my head so I could meet his gaze, I winked. “I believe I totally one-upped you there, my love.”

He laughed. “Oh, you most definitely did. I’m impressed.”

“Heh. Prepare to be even more thoroughly impressed as I devour this entire cheesecake.”

His nose nuzzled against my clavicle. “None for me?”

Sighing, I patted his arm. “Well, I suppose if you do a decent job of singing happy birthday you can have a slice. A SMALL slice…”

He lit the candles, sang it Hank style, and as I blew out the candles I realized that there really wasn’t anything left for me to wish for. Everything I could ever have wanted, or needed, was right there in that room, and as we gorged ourselves sitting out on the balcony, admiring the three-quarter moon reflecting on the water, the truth of the lyrics from the song I’d sung for him overwhelmed me, ‘I can feel you all around me, thickening the air I’m breathing, holding on to what I’m feeling, savoring this heart that’s healed’ and I leapt up from my chair and stood before him, taking his face in my hands, tilting his head upward as I spoke eight simple words that made us both weep.

“Thank you. For everything. I love you. Always.”

#chapter 35 #your light in the mist

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