leech-indie

[leech-indie]

💛 for a moodboard of our muse’s friendship

“Stay close to people who feel like sunshine.” -Xan Oku

@seeingvivianne & @leech-indie Nikolai

[leech-indie]

“Kinda convinced he holds his lovers’ head while kissing them irl too,” 💋

[leech-indie]

[leech-indie]

gabriclsanson​:

          a gift for @leech-indie​,

yay ex-torture buddies

          The remnants of sporadic torture that aided the experiments done on him tended to find him late at night, in the deafening lull of the evening. He hardly remembered the tests and observations done at his expense, The Eye ever curious as to what made a halfblooded dhampir different than the rest. He had gathered that he was apparently lucky enough to live a smidgen longer than the rest, being half-vampire a damning reality now. Though his mind remained a clean slate, the horrors still gripped him in waves of detrimental panic at certain sounds, smells, times of day; intransigent to the waning effect of time. Gabriel had tried his hardest to escape the present when captured by The Eye, filling the memories and gaps with slivers of good; woeful companionship and shared traumatic misery pushing them through to the bitter end. Indie.

          Gabriel never forgot those that wronged him or had a penchant for his blood, and he would never forget a victim who was parallel to him on said journey. Not one who was halfblooded even, but a fully fledged vampire who changed Gabriel’s tune on their kind evermore. Indie had been right next to him through the quotidian torment they faced together, different procedures that had been curated for a vampire and a dhampir; but they were never absent from each others presence for long. There had always been a wonder if it was just another duplicitous game from The Eye, the duo at the mercy of being under constant surveillance, but the need to connect and filter through the torment was vital and a key reminder as to how he survived and inevitably escaped.

          Seeing the familiar face struck him in overwhelming surprise, merely chalking them up to a phantasmic delusion, filtering through the crowd at an anxious pace. “Indie? Indie?” Gabriel often wondered if that was even his genuine name, humanity lost by being mere subjects and toys for The Eye, grappling the other in a sudden hug despite what he figured was going to be inevitable protest to the action. “I… well, I thought–” he couldn’t even breathe through the flurry of thoughts that clouded him now, overcome with both bewilderment and relief at the sight of Indie, squeezing the vampire tighter now.

Indie tried not to think about what had happened to him, what was still happening to him, though things had improved slightly. His mind was happy to supply all kinds of details if he wanted to think back on those years in the lab, of imprisonment and experiments and all manner of other horrible things that had happened but he tried not to do that. He couldn’t always control his reactions to people, to gestures, even to certain tones of voice, though. The Eye had trained him well, after all. When hands were raised he flinched and expected a blow. There had been little relief during that time other than the bond he’d formed with another prisoner, with Gabriel. If Indie could be said to have a friend of any kind it would be Gabriel...well, would have been Gabriel. While his memories of the dhampir were fond they were tinted with sadness now, ever since the other’s cell had been empty and remained that way. Indie only assumed that he’d succumbed to the torture or they’d straight up killed him. Indie missed him with a fierceness that surprised him sometimes and tried to subsume his grief into the rage that always simmered below the surface. The Eye had truly taken everything from him. 

Crowds were not Indie’s favourite things, there was too much chance of brushing against someone or being touched unexpectedly, but they were somewhat unavoidable in Rome. He tried to stick to the outskirts of the throng of people, to move quickly...but then he heard someone calling his name. Not Nicolai that people had been calling him lately, but Indie. The voice was familiar and Indie froze. How? How could it be? He turned slowly towards it but before he could really see if it was true there were arms around him in an embrace. He stiffened and wanted to thrash but that would likely only result in more punishment so he tried to go limp so that any imminent blow wouldn’t hurt as much....but that didn’t happen. The arms tightened and the voice and the smell was familiar...

“Gabriel?” It seemed very much like it was him and maybe Indie just wanted to believe it. He pulled back just a moment so he could really look at him...but there he was and finally Indie relaxed a little, his arms coming up to finally return the hug. “How? I thought....your cell was empty....I thought....” He wet his lips and hugged back tighter, unable to help the smile that stretched over his face. What an unfamiliar expression. 

[leech-indie]

malefactcr​:

where. on the way to just a bite who. @leech-indie​

It wasn’t often that Kieran found himself wanting to go to a vampire bar. Rather, he preferred the chase, the teasing that came from feeding from the source. As it were, he wasn’t keen on going in search of anyone in particular, and found himself approaching towards the bar that boasted of the best offered. That is, until a set of familiar features drew his attention, causing him to slow his step, and instead approach. “Well, well, what do we have here? You certainly look worse for wear.”

...

Indie tried very hard to avoid the vampire bar. If he went in there he knew there was no way he’d be able to control his hunger and would probably just lose control and cut a swathe through as many as he could before they put him down. He couldn’t risk exposing himself like that but sometimes he was drawn there anyway and drifted close. He was always so hungry and there were so many vampires congregated there....Indie couldn’t help it. His fangs ached. He was supposed to hunt but carefully and his handlers only fed him in small doses. Tonight was one such night and he hovered in the darkness a couple of blocks away, unwilling to get closer but unable to leave. He sensed someone approaching, a vampire, and his fangs ached. The hunger was so intense that he almost missed what the man said and he blinked, trying to pull it in, taking a couple of steps back. He couldn’t reveal himself....but he was starving. 

“What?” He was distracted. There was no heartbeat but the scent and nearness of the other’s blood were all he could really focus on. There was no familiarity, no sign that he recognized the other, just the craving. 

[leech-indie]

seeingvivianne​:

The flinching was telling and Vivianne had instantly regretted scaring him. Instinct, and experience, told her terrible things had happened to him. She knew what it was to cower and recoil from hands, or even words and ideas. The young witch had spent years learning and healing from the pain and manipulation of Father, many years realizing that she was safe and under her own control. He was defensive, he was angry. She remembered that feeling. But she suspected something far worse had happen to Nicolai, something which would have him acting so differently and look at her with such cold, unrecognizing eyes.

Her friend had not been like this.

“Indie,” Vivianne murmured, her eyes narrowing. “Your name is Indie… Okay.” She breathed out, trying to release some tension. But her eyes would not stop searching his face as if she was looking to find something. She just wasn’t sure what she wanted to find, because the truth was unfortunate either way. If it wasn’t him, well then she was dealing with a spirit and if it was him than… She preferred not to think too hard on it just yet. “Okay… Is it possible for you to tell me where you’ve been all these years? Is it possible that… you may not remember some things?”

...

She repeated the name like she didn’t believe him but there was clearly distrust on both sides here, at least now. Maybe, if she was telling the truth, that hadn’t always been the case but here there were and that’s how it was now. At least she accepted it, eventually, and that helped, a little, so he nodded to confirm it. The witch kept looking at him, searching for something, and it was...disconcerting. The questions got his back up again. What if it was a test? What if he told her about what had happened to him and she secretly worked for The Eye and they just wanted to see how he would answer? No doubt the wrong answer would get him dragged back there and if he was being dragged then...then nothing good would happen. Just the idea made him stiffen. 

“Why does it matter? Why do you want to know?” She would probably say something about being friends before but that could have easily been a story they gave her. It’s not like he’d remember any details that could confirm or deny whether anything she said was true or not. Indie set his jaw and crossed his arms over his chest, clearly tense. Part of him wanted this to be true, wanted to hope that she was some kind of link to the past, but how could he be sure? How could he trust her? It wasn’t like hope was something he was familiar with anymore so he might as well not bother. 

[leech-indie]

tabula-rasa-renata​:

She hadn’t expected him to acknowledge her. He seemed to like to be alone, or at least dislike being with other people. It was, apparently, rude to approach people who wanted to be alone, a lesson she’d learned but was still working on. Was it really her fault that everyone was so fascinatingly different? 

“Oh, hi!” Getting up, she reminded herself not to get too close or touch him because he’d been clear that he didn’t like that. “We can kiss cheeks if you want. So we look normal. Or not!” Sitting in a seat closer to him (but maintaining his perimeter because boundaries), she offered him the book she was supposed to be reading instead of focusing on him. “Elena Ferrante. She writes about people, mostly women. Families. This one is My Brilliant Friend. They’re set in Naples. I’ve never been to Naples. Well, I don’t think I have. I like stories about people and places. Though I guess all books are about people and places, but do you know what I mean?” Sipping her drink, she tucked her notebook away. She’d discovered people didn’t always like it when you made notes about them or drew sketches. “Do you like it here? I can go somewhere else, if you want to be alone.” She didn’t really want to, but it was the polite thing to say. 

...

She seemed surprised that he talked to her but he figured he might as well. He appreciated that she seemed to be keeping enough of a distance so that he didn’t have to flinch or tense because he thought she might get too close or touch him. “No.” He didn’t want to kiss cheeks, definitely not. As much as he was trying to blend in, he had limits. He took the offered book and studied the cover, front and back, as she spoke. When he’d finished looking at it and she’d finished speaking he set it back on the table in front of her. “I think so.” Indie couldn’t remember the last time he’d read a book. Maybe he should start. It seemed like a nice activity. Quiet, one you generally did alone. The stories usually weren’t real, either. That seemed...comforting. 

He sipped his coffee and shrugged when she asked her question. It was still a novel question for someone to ask him, at least someone that knew him. He liked that she’d asked, though, that she didn’t treat him like everyone else at The Eye did. “I like it when it’s quiet, like this. It smells good.” The coffee smell was pleasant, warming, but not too pungent or overwhelming. “You don’t have to go.” Indie felt that his conversation skills weren’t very good so she might want to, soon, but he could try. “Do you like it here?” That’s how this worked, right? Asking about the other person. It seemed right. 

[leech-indie]

arastirmacii​:

There was a brief moment of silence on her part, as she watched him, as she listened to his answers. The recoil, the automatic rejection of feeding from a seemingly willing participant; it was precisely what they had strove for when implanting the device into the vampire. “Very well,” as if his rejection had been out of disgust for her blood, rather than the simple fact that he would have suffered had he so much as flinched in her direction. The sleeve of her blouse was rolled down, returned to its proper place as she moved herself away from the vampire.

“I want to test your abilities, see how they might have changed due to your continued new appetite,” she stated the words as if the vampire had chosen this path, as if he had volunteered to be altered in such a way. “I’m going to take you to a training ground of sorts. Follow me,” she gathered up the few belongings she’d brought with her, and moved out of the room they occupied. For if the plan was to send this vampire off to feed on those of his own kind, she needed to ensure that he was remaining strong, remaining intact and up for the job.

“Have you noticed any differences? Dwindled hearing or smell? Lethargic in any capacity?” The questions were directed over her shoulder, Sanem seemingly less terrified of this creature than she was of walking alone at night. He was incapable of hurting her, and for that, she didn’t bother keeping her guard up. Though, that didn’t stop her from keeping a weapon close at hand, the pen clipped to the folder in her arms not exactly as it seemed. 

The silence, though brief, seemed to stretch on for a long time as he waited to see if she accepted his answer or if she would choose to hurt him anyway. When she seemed to accept it, a little of the tension eased out of him, at least the tension of waiting. There was still no reason to relax, not fully. How could he, given where he was? But at least she wasn’t going to hurt him in the next minute or two, so he hoped. He gave no visible reaction and no verbal response since it wasn’t required of him. 

She explained what would happen next and his jaw tightened. More tests. It wasn’t as though he could refuse, though, so he just nodded when she told him to follow and trailed after her. He couldn’t even imagine doing violent things to her as he followed because the phantom crackle of electricity always warned him and maybe he even imagined a pang from the chip in his head. But he did hate her. Vehemently. Not that he could let it show, but it was true. 

Indie only spoke again when she asked him direct questions. “Not from the blood but the longer I go without the weaker I get.” They should know this but he might as well remind them that he was starving and it was their fault. Supposedly being out in the world meant he could take other vampires but he had to do it carefully and wait until he was given a target. Which meant he starved, slowly and torturously, unless they gave him blood on his check ins. He was hoping they would and did his best not to think about how or where they got the vampire blood from. He’d already said he was hungry but he dared to repeat it. “I’m hungry.” 

[leech-indie]

muertevelasco​:

There is a moment, a brief moment that could have been counted between a heartbeat and the next if any of the current individuals in the Roman street had any, in which Marisol thinks Nicolai is joking. She had never heard of a vampire with amnesia, never heard of it happening more than a century after they were turned. Then the expression in his face dawns, and the truth dawns. She had spent countless hours dancing with the man in front of her, talking about anything and everything. She knew when Nicolai was lying, and the expression he made when he was is nothing like the one she is being facing right now.

“Aw, shit. Did you lose your memory? That sucks,” she winces in sympathy, as she tries to think on whether any of her knowledge as a nurse would help her here. She isn’t sure, mostly because a vampire’s healing factor would get rid of any physical factor that would bring amnesia forth, which meant —  well. Nothing good. Perhaps he had been cursed? “As far as I am aware, you are. Or at least were the last time I saw you. Nicolai Dragos, Mars Vampire and dancing queen. But if you don’t dance… Well, I am guessing that a lot has happened.”

...

For a second, it looked like she wasn’t going to believe him, like that other woman hadn’t, or like she thought he wasn’t telling the truth. He waited, tensed, but she seemed to accept it and he relaxed a little. Or at least she brought up a possibility. Yes, he knew he’d lost his memory. It was why he could only remember the last...well, the time he’d been with the Eye. Sometimes it seemed like there’d never been a time Before but he figured there must have been...right? It was very confused. 

His eyes narrowed when she asked, always wondering if these people who supposedly knew him were just elaborate plants from The Eye, tests. “Maybe.” He neither confirmed nor denied, watching her carefully. That name again. Nicolai Dragos. Maybe...this was the second person to call him that. Maybe that had been his name. Still, he wasn’t about to trust any of these people. Dancing queen? That was...new. “What’s it to you if it has?” He continued to hedge, wondering why it should matter to her if he no longer danced or went by the same name. It was hard to believe he’d had people in his life before and he was suspicious of anyone who claimed it. Mars vampire, though...that felt right. But The Eye had obviously known that so they could’ve given her the information. 

[leech-indie]

greatest fear(s)?

Having to go back into the lab. Indie has some freedom now that The Eye have let him out but he’s constantly afraid that they’ll call him back and just won’t let him leave again. That they’ll decide he’s a failed experiment and that they’ll have to do more tinkering or tests or just that they want him back there for research. The very idea makes him nauseous and panicky and while he can’t fight against them, not in any real way, he likes to think he could somehow escape them if they really considered returning him to that existence. 

[leech-indie]

best accomplishment? / a song that describes them? / what would their hogwarts house be?

best accomplishment? 

Nic would’ve told you that his biggest accomplishment(s) were his continued interest in infrastructure in Bucharest and the charitable donations he’s made over nearly two centuries. He made charitable donations and worked with organizations in other places but since Bucharest was his home he took an increased interest in it and made sure to help in whatever ways he could. He would’ve added, as a sidebar, that he’s an excellent dancer. 

Indie’s best accomplishment is that he survived. 

a song that describes them? 

“The War” by SYML pretty accurately describes Indie currently, his situation and his feelings about it. 

what would their hogwarts house be?

Nic was a Hufflepuff. Loyal, kind, generous, and a pretty fun person to be around. 

Indie is a...Gryffindor, maybe? It takes a lot of bravery to continue to exist the way he currently does, though he certainly doesn’t think of himself as brave. 

[leech-indie]

biggest flaw?

Oh, boy. Take your pick. Given his current state he essentially doesn’t think he’s a person anymore, only a tool or a sort of animal to be set loose on others. He’s constantly angry with with nowhere to direct that anger unless he’s finally given permission to feed or attack another vampire in which case he goes nearly feral and incredibly violent. He also can’t remember anything about his life before the Eye took him so he’s really just a stewing mixture of flaws at this point. 

[leech-indie]

NAME. Nicolai “Indie” Dragos AGE & BIRTH DATE. 277 & February 3rd, 1795 GENDER & PRONOUNS. Male & He/Him SPECIES. Vampire OCCUPATION. Warehouse Worker FACE CLAIM.  Sebastian Stan

BIOGRAPHY

( tw torture, violence, brainwashing, manipulation, starvation, abuse ) Once there was a man who loved to dance.

He wasn’t born in a time where it was feasible to pursue this as a career, but it was socially expected for a man to be able to dance and dance well and so he did. Perhaps if he’d been born in England or France he could’ve lived a leisurely life of balls and parties and danced to his heart’s content. He’d been born, however, in Bucharest, Wallachia which would later unite with Moldavia to become Romania. Nicolai Petre Dragos grew up loved but in a country in turmoil, a country that wasn’t even a country yet, part of a people who had to fight hard for everything. He learned how to fight but he also learned how to enjoy time with people he loved, to fight for a cause, to laugh, dance and soak up the good things in life amidst turmoil. In spite of that, he did join the revolutionaries to fight for what would eventually become his nation and fought for a long time. He should’ve married but didn’t, never quite settled down. Eventually what happened to many soldiers finally happened to Nicolai; he died.

At least, he should’ve died.

He was bleeding out in a forest, filled with musket balls and slashes, wishing he could’ve danced with that pretty girl one more time when someone approached him. A demon, maybe? An angel? Nic wasn’t sure and it was never really clear to him. But he was fairly certain he died in that forest…until he woke up again, miraculously healed and aching with a thirst the likes of which he’d never felt before. He was still in the forest, there were still people bleeding and dying…and it was the blood he wanted. The blood? He acted more on instinct than anything for that first little while and found himself drinking the blood of the wounded, fellow revolutionaries and enemies alike, the only thing that slaked his thirst. Was he the demon now? He learned, soon enough, what it was he’d become. He’d heard stories of creatures of the night, folktales, and yet it seemed they were real. Vampires, specifically, were real and he’d become one of them.

Over the decades, he learned to control his thirst. He became better acquainted with his sire, learned about this new world. While he’d loved his people, the nation they were trying to build, there was more of the world he could see now, more circles to move in, and he’d been too afraid to stay near family or those he cared about while he was still learning how to control his thirst. So he left, travelled, learned. Soon enough, he was dancing again, enjoying things again. The vampires had their own world, their own hierarchy, and while he wasn’t desperate for power he was good enough with people that he eventually moved up so that the vampire queen learned his name. He was fairly certain it was because he was a good dancer that he was invited to court sometimes but he would take it because it was a good time.

For about 175 years, Nic kept dancing his way through this new immortal life. He learned languages, made friends, took lovers, and fought for things he believed in. The fighting was less physical than it used to be but sometimes it got that way and he never minded that. He invested in charitable causes, went back to Bucharest semi frequently, and thought he was making the most of what he’d been given.

Then they took him.

It was sudden but brutal on evening in 2007. Nic didn’t go down without a fight but eventually they overwhelmed him, the Eye, and the relatively good life he’d been living vanished. It became a true nightmare of labs, cages, knives, scalpels, wooden stakes, but never to the heart, no that wouldn’t have been what they wanted, would have been too easy. Pokes, prods, experiments, dissections, and always pain. He fought against it for a long time but after a while it became hard to remember what he was fighting for. Had there ever been another life or had he always been here? Leech, they called him. He had a feeling that wasn’t his name, didn’t want that ugly string of letters to be his identity but what else was there? He had an aversion to the very idea, engrained in him by his sire and his bloodline. A leech? No, he wasn’t that. Sometimes, when they thought he couldn’t hear them, they referred to him as ‘N.D.’. He could no longer remember what that stood for but it was better than Leech so he started to think of himself as Indie, to at least have a name that wasn’t Leech. While names and details and memories of a life he used to have (had he had it?) began to fade, it was harder to forget what he was. There were instincts in the body, ways to use it to fight, even if they’d weakened him, hurt him. As long as he could fight, as long as he could vaguely feel his sire, the connection to his bloodline, there was a reason to get out. Surely there were those who knew him, who could help him remember if he got out, who might be looking for him? He just had to hold out, to keep fighting.

So he’d thought.

They began to starve him. No blood, nothing, until he got so desperate that he would’ve eaten anything just to get some relief from the gnawing hunger, the ache in his fangs, the desperate thirst. Anything was put in front of him; another vampire. He’d been reduced to an animal version of himself, practically feral, so desperate for survival that he did what he needed to to survive and fed from the other vampire. Relief and power flooded him at the same time that those vague connections that were more a part of his being than consciously felt snapped and were gone. Power he’d never wanted, that he’d only needed to take for survival, and now a true loneliness that overwhelmed him. He cried that first time, broken sobs even as they dragged him back in for more abuse. A surgery, training, electricity thrumming through his body as he begged for it to stop and aversion to mortal blood so strong that even the idea made him sick, that his body would shudder with the remembered pain. There was only enough food, enough of the new food, to keep him on the edge, to make it so that was often the only thing he could think about or want. He’d become theirs now, had been molded into their weapon, and finally they released him into the world with the purpose of going after the other vampires. He would have to report back, be controlled, but he had a measure of freedom now if only to satisfy his hunger and complete their plans.

He doesn’t dance anymore, he hasn’t for a long time.

PERSONALITY

+ obedient, loyal, efficient  – violent, guarded, distrustful

PLAYED BY SAM. MST. She/Her.

[leech-indie]

Sebastian Stan for Men’s Health Magazine 2020💕

Bonus photo: (not from the same shoot)

I could stare at this man shirtless all day.. and I do.

[leech-indie]

20, 52, 65

20: Where was the last place you snogged someone?

“Snogged...like kissed? I don’t know. I don’t remember. I don’t think that kind of thing has happened for a long time.” 

52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason?

“No. Fuck that. I can’t believe that. If I did then it would mean I’d have to believe that everything that’s happened to me was for some kind of reason. There’s no reason for this. There’s just...people doing terrible shit to each other. No, wait, never mind. I’m not a person, if I ever was. But no, I don’t think there’s a reason for any of this.” 

65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

“What’s there to like? I’d tell them to run. Don’t bother. Get out while you can. I’m too...there’s no coming back from this so they might as well just leave.” 

[leech-indie]

35

35: Who was the last person you cried in front of?

“Person? Try people. Not a lot of privacy in my situation. The people in the lab, my handlers. It was...I think it was when they made me what I am. When all the links snapped and I couldn’t feel...and I was...alone. Most of the time I don’t know their names, they don’t think it’s important for me to know. But them.” 

[leech-indie]

68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

“I don’t have a lot of deep conversations these days. There’s not a lot of people to have them with. The witch girl, maybe. The one who was convinced I’m...someone else.” @seeingvivianne