#armand x reader

[madnessr]

Reunited Chapter 1

Summary: 300 years had passed since 1725, where three vampires had lost the only thing that mattered to them. Now in the year 2025, they are reunited with the one person they cannot lose again.

A poly Lestat, Louis, and Armand x Reader relationship

Warnings: Slight gore, cursing, mild angst

Word Count: 5k

Here it is guys! The first chapter to this series. Please let me know what you think, your comments make my day!

Masterlist

The Queen Mary, a ship built alongside the RMS Queen Elizabeth, was constructed to express service between Southampton, Cherbourg, and New York. The intention was to provide competition to super-liners built by European companies in the late 1920s. However, by 1965 the Queen Mary was no longer profitable and soon retired in 1967, retiring in December on the shores of Long Beach, California. 

All of this happened 31 years before you were even born, the notorious ship now growing roots against the harbor, nourishing a reputation for being hunted and cursed. Attracting self-proclaimed ghost hunters and other psychics to try and connect to the ship's past. 

But winds were changing, and in early January of 2023, the descents of Cunard White Star, the original owner of the Queen Mary, announced a revival. A luxurious experience reliving the thrills of the 1920s, promising to carry the Queen Marry across the oceans once more for a final and elegant vacation for anyone who wanted to set sail on history, departing from California and arriving in Italy. 

Social media and dedicated Queen Mary fans went wild over this news, claiming this could be the next generation of the Titanic, while paranormal enthusiasts couldn't wait to explore the ship for longer than just a night. However, you, along with many others, saw the announcement for what it actually was, a job opportunity. 

Inflation being at an all-time high since the 1980s, you, along with 63 percent of Americans who are also living paycheck to paycheck, could use the extra cash, a place to stay was a given, no matter how small the staff rooms would be on the ship, you wouldn't complain. Having nothing to lose, you handed in your resume along with hundreds of others. You felt confident in your chances of being accepted, making a note to highlight your previous career in the American Symphony Orchestra as a cello, and when worst came to shove, you also were a waitress at one point. 

The Queen Mary was not set to sail until 2025, leaving the hiring staff an entire two years to sort and select applications. Leaving you and many others in a state of radio silence. So, you promptly forgot about it. Moving on with your day-to-day life, you continued working ungodly hours, living off unfair wages, and living one day at a time. Until you had the wonderful delight of experiencing your boss, someone you furthermore supported through extra shifts and on days off, made a choice to fire you. 

Or, as she said, "Needing to let go of such a valuable employee due to the current economy." A load of bullshit if she asked you, but she didn't, and with your belongings sitting in the classic cardboard box, you made your way back to your apartment. 

Unlocking your door, letting your feet kick the old wood on its rested hinges closed behind you. You dropped the box carelessly, letting yourself sit on your second-hand couch with your head in your hands. 

You had faced many challenges since moving to America, leaving your family in Austria to make it big in the symphony orchestra only to be eventually let go by an abusive boss. Leaving you as a waitress at Denny's for the past two years. Of course, your family didn't know; how could they? 

You had left them. Had promised and gloated about your upcoming success just to end up in a shabby apartment in a dangerous area and now unemployed too. You were tired and have been for the past two years, but today was your breaking point. Like a cold shower, realization gradually washed over you, forming a heavy puddle in the pit of your stomach. You had failed. 

You wouldn't return as the prodigy you had hoped to be; you wouldn't return wealthier than when you left. Damn it, you couldn't even sustain yourself anymore; the only way you'd be returning is with a walk of shame. How were you supposed to look them in the eyes again? People who unconditionally believed in you, people you made promises to like prayers. 

You were ready to finally give up, throw the white towel, raise your flag, and surrender. You could already hear your grandmother, rotted in old sexist views, present you as an example to your younger siblings. You could practically hear her nasally voice, "Women have no place pretending to be anything they aren't." She always said that; it was almost her slogan. Whenever you had a new idea, when you aspired to be in all kinds of careers, from pilot to singer, she denied every single one. She wanted you to be a wife; nothing more or less was suitable. 

The dawning realization hit you that not only did you fail, but you proved her right too. Your young siblings looked up to you and watched you prove her wrong as you lied to them. Yet, you still pretended to be successful, that you were a part of symphonies, and that employers were constantly looking to recruit you. So not only would you return as a failure, but a liar too.

In your well-deserved moment of self-wallowing, you heard the rusty sound of your mail slit open, watching a letter fall to the floor. You stared at it, silently praying that this wasn't the icing on the cake, and your landlord decided to hand out eviction notices. Then, slowly pushing your lethargic body onto its feet, you hobbled over and picked up the letter. 

Ripping the envelope open carelessly, your eyes scanned the paper. You had been hired as part of the staff regarding the Queen Marys voyage, glancing at your calendar briefly, nearly two years after fucking applying. Due to a staffing issue provided by a system failure, you were hired as part of the waiting staff and, on occasional afternoons, a part of the on-sight orchestra. 

A dry laugh escaped you, flipping off the air as you grinned tiredly. "Not yet, grandma, not fucking yet.." 

The sound of seagulls singing, the smell of seaweed, drying kelp rotting on the shore, and the salty mist of ocean air surrounded you as you passed the crowd. It was boarding day, and you and the rest of the staff members were instructed to board early. But how was that even possible when you had to survive a sea of people instead of boarding a ship. Kids running around, clerly excited, young adults in their groups babbling about the cruise, while you and another worker, Ella, stuck out like a sore thumb in your 1920s-style work uniform. Considering that was when the ship was built and set out to sail, the owner of the Queen Mary only deemed it fitting that the boat preserved its history. 

Along with all the "excuse me's" and "pardon me's," your eyes caught on to a peculiar pair of men. Both sporting shoulder-long locks, one a cheerful blonde and the other a content-looking brunette. Their odd fashion was comparable to yours if they wore formal uniforms. But the clothes looked so ideally suited to their bodies, not an inch of fabric out of place. You just assumed they were history enthusiasts and wanted to match older decades. You caught the gaze of the blonde man, whose laughter and smile stilled as he watched you. A chill traveled down your spine as the eye contact was far too intense for your liking. Ella grabbed your arm carefully, guiding you through the crowd so you two would stay aware of the situation. Finally, you managed to get to the elevator, showing your employee passes before being able to board. 

You glanced out through the glass elevator walls, once again catching sight of the two men from earlier. Yet this time, six pairs of eyes stared at you; a look of shock and utter disbelief fell across their features. There was this incredibly odd, almost indescribable feeling of deja vu washing over you like those handsome faces were familiar. Finally being out of the rush of guests, you had a moment to stare. A man with black hair joined them, his strands of dark locks reaching further down than the others. He looked stoic, calm even, but his gaze connected with yours when you looked at him. He smiled, a gentle soft one that you barely even noticed. But it made you feel something—content. Like the man rarely ever smiled but had done so for you. Before you could fall further into your ridiculous daydreams. You looked away, feeling creeped out as the doors opened, letting you walk up the ramp and board the ship. 

The ship's interior was a work of art all on its own. The lobby, displaying a decorative wall resembling a fountain behind the reception desk, stretched from one corner to another. Several seats and booths were set up to serve as the reception worker's primary domain. Being guided through the halls, past the main entrance seating area. You passed a golden elevator; there was something old-time about it, displaying a large panel to indicate which floor it was on at the top. A large, almost clock-like arrow guided its passage. 

The staff was then split up and shown to their rooms. The halls had a fancy, royally red carpet as the floor. Beautiful golden embroidery gives it a more meaningful design as you pass the countless rooms. Having been given time to settle yourself, you glanced at your room. It looked similar to a standard, single-bed hotel room. A door leads to a closet on your right, being reflected by a body mirror parallel to it. There was a sliding door made of glass on your left, leading to a simple bathroom. A regular-sized bed and a simple bedside table on either side are in the middle of the room. You had put your suitcase against the chairs, flopping onto your bed for a moment to breathe. 

A sharp, almost tapping or knocking sound was heard from your window. Making you snap your head up; nothing should be able to hit your window, considering you were on a ship, high above the waves. Standing up, you glanced outside, watching the night nearly overshadow all the waiting guests if it weren't for the street lamps and store lights. Shrugging, you turned around once more and were later ushered to the restaurant you would serve at with Ella. But, again, given the summary of what was expected of you, you wouldn't be a waitress tonight. 

The restaurant was built to look fancy. Circular tables have neatly, if not ironed tablecloths draped over them. Two plates, four pieces of cutlery, wine glasses, and a white cloth napkin folded in a triangle on each plate. Pointing to the grand chandelier in the room's center, casting the room in a delicate orange glow. Along one side of the restaurant stood a small stage, a few instruments being displayed along with a cello. 

Tonight, you would be entertaining the dining patrons from 6:00 pm till 7:00 pm as the ship's doors finally opened to the public. So, you took your place on stage, skillfully preparing yourself for your session. 

The ship boarded similarly to airplanes, where more exclusive—or affluent passengers got to board first, following up with different groups sectioned by letters. Eventually, the calming silence in the ship slowly became something more welcoming. A soft, joyful buzz of people waiting for their upcoming vacation, or rather journey with bated breaths. 

You, on the other hand, couldn't care less. You were getting good money and had yet to decide if you were even returning to the ship to sail back to America. So instead, you might just stay in Italy for a few weeks. 

There was something so comforting in the idea of just doing as you pleased. No one to find you, just wandering down a road and seeing where it would take you. You were a day-to-day kind of person, and you saw nothing wrong with that. But recently, your days have grown to become boring. 

So, as you heard the loud roar of the ship's horn. You smiled to yourself. You had officially set sail to hopefully new and more exciting adventures. 

Gradually, guests began to appear in the restaurant. So, you started playing a casual, soft jazzy tune. Chatter filled the room, almost like a chorus as you played. You found yourself enjoying the atmosphere; everyone in this room came here for one thing: enjoyment. 

For your scheduled hour, you did nothing but play and enjoy. Playing Tchaikovsky's The Nutcracker, Waltz of The Flowers; to Saint-Saëns The Carnival of The Animals. You played it all, a gentle smile tugging at your lips whenever a note hit so beautifully. Sending shivers down your arms and goosebumps, you never failed to get when music was played. 

You hadn't changed one bit. 

Perhaps you would've grown shy while performing if you knew, but this moment had no significant meaning to you. You're just doing your job, simple as that. But what meant so little to you made dead hearts begin to leap again. What it meant for them to see you again, thriving, living, and mortal. Three-hundred unforgiving and torturous years did they spend without you. They spent years getting over your death, and while getting over you wasn't ever accomplished, continuing to survive was. Although blood lacked its taste, the night air its crispness, and music its charm. You stood there on a small stage. Single-handedly providing their miserable lives with color again. With meaning. Although they had long forgotten what it meant to be, or instead feel human again, this was the closest they'll ever get to being so vulnerable. 

Lestat, although having been the most stubborn about accepting your death, was now struggling the most to understand that you were, in fact, alive. Right in front of him, so reachable, so obtainable. But he didn't dare move, frozen in his chair as he watched you. He had dreamed of you every cursed second you were apart, and some part of him didn't want to accept this as reality. Countless nights did he awake in his coffin, arms that had been around you in his dreams now empty. He never minded how cold his skin felt, but nothing was more challenging than the loneliness you left behind. His grief denied him this moment, compared to Louis, who felt nothing but joy; he just couldn't, unlike Armand, who shared the same happiness and disbelief as Louis. 

He was certain you weren't really there. 

To wake up alone after this moment once more, after something that felt so real. So Lestat stayed where he was, silently grieving the only sun in his life that didn't hurt, and enjoyed the sight of you in front of him, alive once more. 

But before you knew it, and any of them wanted to accept, your time was up, and a young pianist came to take your place. You bowed, unaware of the three men who had watched your entire performance with bated breaths. 

As you left the scene. One thing was understood between the three of them; the world wasn't the same without you. They had been given one thing they never had themselves, a second chance. One thing was for sure, they won't lose you again.  

Now that it was seven pm, you were finally able to properly explore the renovated ship. Heading out onto the deck, the breeze gently ruffled your hair. A familiar coldness from the night air hugging you close, enveloping your entire being. You leaned over the railing, tall, half-drunk champagne glass in your hand as you chatted and joked with your newly acquired friend, Ella. A little younger than you, she was a college student who had dropped out of her recent major and decided to take a year off. To find what she really wanted to do. 

You couldn't really judge her for it; teens were forced to make such detrimental decisions way too early, in your opinion. But there was more to life than grades and results. 

A soft clearing of the throat could be heard behind you two. Turning around, you still saw one of the gentlemen from earlier. The one with shoulder-length brown hair tied neatly into a low ponytail and old-fashioned attire. You could tell that he tried looking more modern, but the way his dress shirt and waistcoat snatched his waist so beautifully, you refused to believe the man would ever wear modern-day, baggy clothes and sweatpants.

"Pardon my intrusion, ladies; I just wanted to compliment the wonderful cellist this evening." He mused, a crooked smile framing his face. Ella glanced at you, a playful, bowing smirk tugging at her lips before she nodded. "How wonderful; I'll leave you two be then. My break is over now anyways." She mused, quickly slipping away as you stood there. 

Turning your full attention to the stranger, you smiled welcomingly. This was your favorite thing about traveling. The number of strangers you meant along the way, the people, the stories, the lessons. People never seemed to become boring to you; there always seemed to be something there that always kept you intrigued. 

But something about this stranger didn't feel comparable to all those previous experiences. This man seemed to feel so familiar. "Thank you." You mused you weren't shy by all means, but this man and his companion gave you the oddest of feelings. 

"Excuse me," you began. Then, fully capturing his attention with your words, "But have we met before?" The moment the question escaped your lips an expression painted his face you couldn't quite decipher. 

"Mind if I join you?" He asked, keeping a distance before you nodded. Inviting him to stand beside you, leaning against the railing and staring out at the dark sea. The lights from the ship give the only indication of the waves beneath you, the light softly reflecting against the surface. 

"I don't think we have." The man finally responded to your previous question, his eyes watching the light reflection paint the waves beautifully. "I wouldn't have forgotten someone like you." He hummed with a playful glint as he turned to you and smiled, his forearms resting against the railing. 

"Someone like me?" You asked, chuckling at how broad that phrase was. But, of course, that could mean anything, good or bad. 

"It's a wonderful evening." The brunette mused, occasionally glancing at you as you continued sipping champagne. You awaited his reply to your question but gradually accepted that he would leave your curiosity hanging. "It really is. Have you sailed before?" You asked, attempting a light conversation. The man couldn't help but chuckle as if your question had been silly. Now getting your attention, you stared at him, eyes requesting an explanation for his outbursts. 

As if sensing your confusion, he turned around. His elbows rested against the railing along with his back. "Yes, I have, many times, actually." You nodded, "To where?" But, you added, all kinds of travel interested you, so this wasn't strictly special. 

"You'd be surprised where you can go just by ship." But, although you nodded, traveling by ship was rare besides the vacation cruise or exporting cargo. Perhaps you just didn't know better, but you didn't feel like prying or exactly learning anything at the moment either.

"You know, Mr.—"you trailed off, not knowing the man's name. He smiled at the gesture, having no problem filling in the title for you. “Louis de pointe du lac.” 

You raised your eyebrow, finding such a long name an oddity. "Well, Louis de pointe du lac–" You began again but were again cut off, "Louis. Please refer to me as Louis." 

"Well then, Louis, it was a pleasure meeting you." You mused, not noticing the minor quirk of his smile as you said his name.

"Louis!" A loud voice called in a chiding and scolding manner. The man was obviously annoyed, he was the one with blonde hair styled similarly to Louis's. However, his anger seemed to dwindle when his gaze flashed to yours. He stared for a moment, before softly bowing. You raised your hand to try and prevent the man from literally bending to you, but he simply grasped it. A touch ever so gentle as he kissed the top of your hand, cold soft lips meeting your blazing skin. “Pardon me my chérie, I’m Lestat de Lioncourt, at your service.” 

After your shock finally calmed, you couldn't help but chuckle at the theatrics of this display. Bowing sheepishly, grabbing the edges of your uniform as you did, "Hello, gentleman, I'm Y/N L/N."

The soft sound of someone clearing their throat shifted your attention again, directed at the last man with long black hair in the group. "As lovely a name as ever, I am Armand." He hummed, making you realize the soft accents they had. Louis had an American accent, Lestat carried a faint French accent, and the man who had just introduced himself as Armand sounded European. 

"How rude of us to bombard you like this chérie, care to join us for dinner? I'm afraid the night isn't getting any younger you know." Lestat mused, an eager smile stretching at his lips as he chuckled. You smiled at the offer but shook your head in refusal. "Although I'm not usually the type to deny a dinner with strangers, I'll have to pass this time. I'm too tired to provide any enjoyable company this evening." You hummed, slowly stepping away from what appeared to be a disappointed blonde. 

"Perhaps another time." You added, smiling softly as you turned to the brunette. He shook his head playfully, "Don't mind him, have a good night Y/N." You nodded, waving a little as you finally left. Entering the ship once more as you made your way to your room, letting out a small sigh. The first day of anything was constantly exhausting in your eyes, but today sure gave you hope for more eventful journeys ahead of you. 

You completed your routine rather quickly, but it was still odd to feel the occasional sway or shift of the boat. It was very subtle, but you would notice if you focused on it. Removing your uniform, you let it against one of the vacant chairs before hopping into the shower. Luckily the bathrooms were made to look more modern than the rest of the ship; you were a stickler when it came to bathrooms. Being quick to shower, you dried yourself off and put yourself in some loose clothes. You would consider yourself someone who doesn't wear specific pajamas for bed; you would wear whatever was comfortable. 

Laying down after such an eventful day was pure bliss, even though you didn't do anything that was physically exhausting. Your feet still ached from all the walking, your lower back complained from the luggage you carried, and your mental state was even more drained. If there was one thing you were ready for tonight, it was to clock out until someone would bother you again tomorrow. Turning off your night lamp, you were quick to doze off. 

Although your sleep was quick to come, it didn't stay. You sleep in two-hour increments but eventually give up after five A.M. You get dressed, not in your usual work uniform, since you would only have to check in for work late into the day. So at the moment, you were a simple guest. Stepping out of your room, you walked past the halls and suites. But you halted at the loud crash of what you could only assume was furniture tipping over. The noises erupted from the room as if a band of wild animals had been let loose. 

You should have continued walking; this was none of your business. But the thought of it being a case of domestic violence or any other situation where your interference might've helped had you backtracking. You stayed silent, letting your ears strain to make up any conversation through the door. 

"Absolutely not!" A loud yet familiar voice boomed as glass shattering followed the commotion. 

"Why the hell not?" Another voice followed; this was a heated debate between two men. "What are you waiting for, Louis?" A moment of silence, like a glass of ice-cold water, was splashed onto you. You knew these men; this must've been Louis and the other's suite. At least, that's what you assumed. 

You could hear stomping, the screeching of a chair against the wooden floor, then again silence. "Three-hundred fucking years. Three-fucking-hundred! Now you're suggesting that we let her go? Live a human life, a vulnerable, fragile, dangerous human life?" The man's voice, who you pinned as Lestats argued. But the mention of humanity, as if implying that there was something outside of that spectrum unnerved you. We're they rehearsing for some play? 

"No, that's not it, Lestat, and you know that." Louis's voice spoke calmly, but there was a clear, agitated tone. For how long have they been arguing? 

"Leaving her mortal makes her fragile, yes. But turning her could leave her hating us." The accented voice of Armand spoke, making you sincerely wonder who this 'she' was. 

"You're risking everything!" Lestat couldn't believe they had this conversation for the last hour. After your sweet self had retired for the night, there was tension between them. It wasn't until Lestat lured a slightly drunk woman into their room and decided to celebrate his lover's reappearance with a bloody gore fest. Armand had partaken, not with much interest in the human blood-bag, and Louis was his sympathetic self as he drank. It wasn't until Lestat's small comment about how cute you'd look, all bloody and desperate for blood. Fledglings were always so needy once they got a taste, and he couldn't wait to indulge you. Then, of course, there was still the probing question of who would be your sire, your maker. 

But Louis had cut him off, stating that you needed to stay human longer. To grow accustomed to them and eventually to their life. Louis understood where Lestat was coming from; perhaps he would've been more rational if he wasn't so exhausted from their argument. He sat slouched in a soft, red-cushioned chair. Rubbing his temples in an attempt to soothe his headache. He sympathized with you because he knew someone would turn you sooner rather than later. He just couldn't bear you going through the terrors he went through; he could still recall the way you had refused to turn the first time they had all met. They had foolishly allowed you to stay human for a little longer, where you had found yourself in a riot and subsequently lost your life in the raging mob. 

He would be a liar if he said he didn't want to turn you too. To have that security, they had an eternity to properly court you, but you were human. Weak and fragile, with so little time compared to them. 

Armand was the calmest in the situation. He, too, wanted nothing more than to hold you like he had always done, to share his gift with you like he had wanted to all those years ago. But you didn't want that then and didn't seem open to something so life-altering now. The risk of developing a bad relationship through actions rushed by their emotions was too risky, despite his creeping fear at the idea of you being human. If they were on a ship, there would be no civil unrest and certainly no outright threats that could actively harm you. 

His coffin has felt so empty without you; for once in his miserable immortal life did he feel at peace. All of them did, and although they all felt torn. They eventually decided to wait to develop a small relationship before changing you. 

You still stood outside, shaking your head at what you had heard. Utter nonsense, complete nonsensical sentences. Finally, you walked off, unaware that your footsteps had been heard. And three protective vampires were not too keen on the idea of someone knowing about them, about you. 

[free-for-all-fics]

Just binge watched the IWTV series and it gave me many thoughts. No pun intended when I say it made me very thirsty. So I wrote some prompts! Warning: Some of these contain spoilers for the AMC show! Most of these prompts are written with the AMC show in mind, but they can probably be used interchangeably for either the 1994 movie or the 2022 tv series. Whichever version is up to you. Please tag me if you’re inspired by or write any of these ideas. I’d love to read it! ❤️🩸

Content Warning: Almost all of these prompts contain dark themes! Including: Toxic behavior, unhealthy relationships, power imbalances, abuse, racism, murder, and incest. If Dark! Fics aren’t your thing or you can’t handle such themes, that’s okay. These prompts just may not be for you, so ignore them and kindly move on. If you don’t like, then don’t read. Please don’t act as morality police and harass me or others. Don’t start arguments in the comments. Thank you.

1. You meet Lestat and Louis at a ball celebrating your arranged engagement to an odious man you don't love. While taking turns dancing with them, you're rudely dragged away by your jealous and controlling fiancé. Seeing how innocent and miserable you are, they later kill your unwanted groom and take you from your home, eventually giving you the choice to live with them and have a better life as a vampire.

2. You were Lestat's lover and companion heart when he was human. You were forcibly separated when he was abducted and turned into a vampire by Magnus. He believes you later perished in the French Revolution, until he’s delightfully surprised when he finds you in New Orleans while living with Louis and Claudia. You don’t look a day older than when he saw you last, and he realizes you had faked your death over a century ago. As he watches you seduce and feed on a couple of unfortunate humans, he falls in love with you all over again. You’re even more beautiful as a vampire.

3. Lestat feeds on you and drains you of blood to the point of near death. He gives you a choice: Join him in eternal life as his new companion heart and lover, or don't. Help him adapt to the modern world, or he will leave you to die and move on to someone else.

4. Haunted Mansion-esque AU: When Lestat was human, he was deeply in love with you, a black or mixed woman, despite it being unconventional and illegal. You may have had many plans for the future, but your love was like playing a most dangerous game. It ended tragically with you killed and him kidnapped by Magnus and turned into a vampire. But what if you’re reincarnated looking exactly the same as you did before in the early 20th century. Lestat becomes obsessed with you at first sight, discreetly following you around or using his powers to hypnotize you to come to him.

He acts overprotective and possessive when he courts you. Even if you don’t remember him or your past life yet, he’s undeterred in his advances. He’s determined to keep you safe with him and not let such a cruel fate befall you again. If that means turning you into a vampire, so be it. You’re his forever and he’s yours. You may hate him at first, but you’ll thank him for the dark gift in the end. He has loved you in death as he did in life and whether your memories come back or not, he’s going to stay by your side. What if in this life, you’re Louis’s neighbor/friend and he loves you too? Maybe not romantically, but there are many forms of love.

5. You’re Lestat’s younger sister and the only other person he loves in his family apart from yours and his mother. He cherishes you so deeply that he often protected you from your abusive father and other brothers by taking countless beatings and starvations to spare you. While you were only a teenager, you’d tend to his wounds and bring him food and drink. He insisted you came with him and Nicolas to Paris, where he would look after you as your legal guardian until you could be free as an adult woman. But after he was turned into a vampire, he tried to stay away. For years, he kept his distance and watched over you from afar as you blossomed into womanhood, while using his inheritance to send money and lavish gifts so you could live comfortably. He still wanted to provide for you, give you everything he felt you deserved but couldn’t have while living in poverty.

Until something happened that made him hyperaware of your fragility in your mortal state. He realized he was too selfish and loved you too much to condemn you to permanent death. He couldn’t bear it if you were lost to him forever, so he snuck into your house and turned you into a vampire. You live together for many decades before you go off on your own to explore the world. But you still correspond and visit regularly. You’re surprised and delighted when you stop in and discover your brother has a lover and a…sister? Daughter? Are you an aunt now? You’re not really sure what the family dynamic is but you’re happy for him.

6. Crimson Peak/Flowers in the Attic-esque AU: You’re Lestat’s sister. You sought comfort and protection from your abusive father and other brothers through each other, and your unhealthy coping mechanisms spiraled into a toxic incestuous relationship. After taking countless beatings and starvations, you’d tend to Lestat’s wounds and he to yours. While locked away together, you’d silently admire your bodies and touch each other gently, mindful of your scars. Your curiosity gave way to darker thoughts, and neither of you could help the urges you began to feel. Lestat and you are so fucked up. You’re overly co-dependent on each other, you both can be manipulative to get what you want, etc. You and Lestat are aware you might love each other too much, since you’ve had ugly fights fueled by jealousy where you’ve threatened to kill the other.

“If I can’t have you, no one can!”

“Do it, coward. You won’t. You and I both know a life without me would be even more unbearable.”

But neither of you would ever actually go through with it. Despite your issues, you cared for each other and wanted to get into a better situation. Even after Lestat became a vampire and inherited endless wealth, he couldn’t let you go. So he snuck into your Paris bedroom and seduced you. Afterwards, he used his powers to render you immobile so he could kidnap you. He turned you into a vampire and your bond can never be severed now. You may have been livid with your brother for turning you, but even that argument ended with angry hate sex to blow off steam. It’s no different than the many times he killed or otherwise drove away all the men and women who vied to be your lover while you were both still human. You were angry with him then, and retaliated by doing the same with all his lovers. These kind of sibling spats are common. If there’s one thing you both hate, it’s competition.

But still you slept together and all was soon forgiven. As vampires your lovemaking can be bloody and violent but it hurts so good. You can’t hear each other’s thoughts, but are so in tune with one another that you still know exactly what the other is feeling. When everything is good, you either hold hands or embrace without needing to say anything. You have your own coffins, but often crawl into each other’s so you can cuddle within the enclosed shared space where you spend hours talking into the early morning before going to sleep. You’re addicted to each other’s company. To the outside mortal world you may act as husband and wife. This is your eternity. You both fear loneliness and abandonment more than anything in the world, so as long as you stay together, neither of you will be alone and you’ll both be fine.

7. You’re a whore and have threesomes with Lestat and Louis. Unlike Lily and the others, you’re a woman of many talents with a unique spirit, so Lestat and Louis want to keep you forever as theirs. What started out as purely transactional sex and pillow talk has become so much more. They’re addicted to you and each other. Being a human and having sex with two vampires is on another level you never knew existed. Levitating in the air while your body is sandwiched between the two handsome devils, Lestat feeding on you while Louis may refuse to at first before Lestat convinces him to do it. Un petite coup, they call it. The little drink. Not enough to kill you, but just enough to keep them fit. The feelings of intimacy it awakens in you is beyond words. And all your senses are only heightened once your lovers turn you into a vampire. While you have your own coffin, you sometimes share a special coffin that’s big and spacious enough to fit 3 people.

8. You’re a human who willingly lets Louis feed on you in modern day. What Daniel doesn’t know is that you actually live in the house with him and Rashid. They take good care of you after the feedings and it’s like a poly relationship. Daniel doesn’t know how to respond as he watches Louis feed on you while you just nonchalantly talk to him like nothing is happening to you. He finds it so off putting how you hold eye contact with him.

Spoilers: Or you’re actually a vampire who pretends to be human by putting on a good show of acting faint and woozy after Louis feeds from you. You go by a fake name and wear contacts just like Armand. Louis and Armand are your lovers.

9. Phantom of the Opera-esque AU: You’re an opera singer or a First Chair in the orchestra and you’re elevated in Lestat’s eyes due to your immense musical talent. You’re one of the few human attachments Lestat keeps. He acts as your patron, providing you with money and lavish gifts. He visits you in your dressing room before and after performances, where you often get hot and steamy. He sometimes takes you back to his home where you sing and play piano (or another instrument) together. You may not know about his vampiric nature yet, but make no mistake: He will inevitably turn you one day.

10. In the books, Lestat mentions bedding a whole lot of women before he was turned so it’s possible he had children he never got to know. He finds out he had a secret accident baby over a hundred years ago when you, his daughter, show up at his and Louis’ home after tracking him down. Lestat being Lestat, he may not believe you at first, but you have substantial proof: A birth certificate, old belongings of his, miniatures of him and your mother, handwritten letters from the 18th century, etc. And then there’s your uncanny resemblance to him in both physical appearance and personality/mannerisms that even Louis points out. You’re not only a grown adult, but frozen in time. Maybe you had a family of your own before your vampire transformation, maybe not. But Lestat tracking down his descendants could make for an interesting story. Because he’s not your maker, you can hear each other’s thoughts. Lestat wants to know everything about you: Who your maker was, how you lived after parting ways with your maker, etc.

He doesn’t want secrets. In hypocritical fashion, he’ll probably keep secrets from you, but he doesn’t want you to keep secrets from him. You and your father are alike in so many ways, and sometimes that causes you two to butt heads and get into petty quarrels. It’s like an unstoppable force meets an immovable object. It’s like two walls trying to get the other to move. Whenever your father annoys you too much, you’ll block him out of your mind or he’ll do the same to you. From what your mother told you about him, you were expecting him to be a bratty and spoiled prince. She used to say you were his perfect copy and called you princess to annoy you. He does love you and you do love him, it’s just expressed and shown in very weird, unusual ways that don't make sense to anyone else. Your form of affection is unique to only you two.

11. You and Lestat are vampires in a complicated love-hate and co-dependent relationship. It can get very toxic and manipulative, especially since both of you are varieties of possessive and jealous or vain and narcissistic. Sometimes if either of you are bored, you do your best to goad each other into losing any sense of decorum or restraint. Like playing with each other’s emotions is a game. Your arrangement of, “You can fuck whoever you want as long as you come home to me.” quickly becomes “I thought we could have an orgy. You can fuck them and I can eat them.” Your sex life is full of depraved fantasies and decadence you indulge in. A hedonistic existence of drink, drugs, and parties. You’re both different flavors of fucked up, but you’re addicted to each other. You want him dead, you want him all to yourself. He wants you dead, he wants you all to himself. It’s far from healthy, but it’s all you know and neither of you care. You’ve let go of human attachments ages ago.

12. You’re a vampire who’s in a romantic/sexual relationship with Lestat and in his own twisted way, he actually cares about and loves you along with Louis. You were given the dark gift by your maker when you were a full grown adult, unlike Claudia. So you’re like an older sister or aunt to her. Claudia is envious of your mature body and asks you questions of the female sort that you do your best to answer, no matter how awkward they are. Some of the questions she has are similar to ones she writes in her diary. (If you know, you know.)

13. Ghost of Thornton Hall-esque AU: When Lestat was human, he was in love with you, a renowned singer. During a masquerade ball celebrating your birthday, a fire started that quickly spread out of control. You got trapped in the burning building and were killed. You’re the only person Lestat has cried rivulets of blood over in his vampire life. All Lestat has left of you is a necklace you always used to wear. That’s why he’s hesitant to turn Claudia after Louis saves her from the fire and tries to make excuses that she’s too charred and he doesn’t know where to bite. During the Mardi Gras ball, Lestat hears your voice whispering and singing sweetly to him. He may be losing his mind due to fasting, but he swears he can see you in the crowd, wearing the same blood red dress that you burned up in. Your black lace mask hides your eyes from him. He follows you, but keeps losing sight of you in the crowd when other men and women get in his way. It’s like trying to follow a ghost. Finally he catches up to you. When you turn around, you are indeed wearing the very same red dress you wore when you “died”. It’s now charred and black in some areas. He removes your mask and looks into your eyes - your vampire eyes.

14. You and Lestat go out to Lover’s Lane because it’s one of your favorite spots to hunt. The many lovey-dovey couples fueled by passion and sexual desire makes your meals that much more tasty. After you feed together, who could blame you if you also wanted to get romantic and passionate yourselves and make love outdoors or in the car of some victims before you disposed of the bodies? It’s practically like going out on a date anyway. Lestat and you go on date nights like this often. Your dates have also included going to the movies, sometimes watching vampire flicks to laugh at them and have a good time. Lestat uses his vampire powers to make an annoying movie goer who keeps shushing you start slapping himself repeatedly, just to entertain you and himself.

15. The relationship you have with Lestat is…complicated, to say the least. You’re human, but musically talented or have something else about you that makes him very possessive and obsessive over you. Maybe you remind him of his first love, Nicolas. He fears loneliness more than anything, so he tries to make you dependent on and love only him. He tries to isolate you and prove that he’s all you need. He can take care of you and give almost everything you desire. Toxic Lestat is so against you leaving because he doesn’t want to be alone. He lets you know of his plans to make you a vampire, whether you like it or not. It’s inevitable, he’s more than clear in no uncertain terms about that. But instead of rejoicing at his plans to give you this most precious and coveted dark gift, you tried to run away. He killed all the other passengers of the train you tried to stowaway on and blamed you for their deaths. You made him do this by acting out and being ungrateful, their blood is on your hands.

He used the conductor’s head as a macabre puppet to scare you before he coerced you into coming back home. You should be thankful he’s still respecting your compromise to stay human for a little longer after you pulled that stunt. You should show him some appreciation for all he’s doing for you, instead of acting like a spoiled and bratty princess. One time, you get into a nasty fight that ends with Lestat dragging your weak but still alive body outside, leaving a bloody trail. He then uses the Cloud Gift to fly high up into the sky while holding you in his arms. He tells you, “How I’ve waited. I have patiently waited in vain for you to love me as I love you.”

“Let go of me!”

“Anything for you,” he says as he strokes your cheek and wipes away your tears before letting you fall from the sky. As your heart pounds loudly in your ears and can be heard over the whistling wind, you thought surely you’d splatter on the ground below and be nothing but an unrecognizable mess of mangled flesh. But no. Lestat wouldn’t give you the mercy of permanent death. He only let you free fall for a few seconds before swooping down and catching you. As if to teach you a lesson and further prove his point that you need him. You need him to protect you from others and yourself. But who’s going to protect you from him, you think to yourself as you lose consciousness in his arms.

16. During the Mardi Gras Masquerade ball, Lestat had Tom appoint you, his vampire bride, as Queen while he was Raj. After fasting for three days before the ball, you play your part well. Both men and women try to crowd around you and vie for your attention, but you’re very particular about who you hand out boutonnières to. You can see Lestat surrounded by middle aged women he seduced but can’t remember from 10 years ago. They’re still fawning all over him. Ah, these must be the ladies from the Women’s Opera Society. They’ve gotten so old and wrinkly in such short time, poor dears. You use your hand fan to hide your smirk as you try not to laugh when you overhear their voices coated with sympathy. So they really believed him to be ill all those years? Just when he asks which of the ladies did he pull under the stairs during that dull lecture on Don Giovanni, you take that as your cue to pull him away. You can feel the ladies’ questioning and jealous gazes on you as you loop your arm through his and kiss his cheek then his lips.

You’re so radiant, all dressed in white and diamonds. But all the women’s eyes are drawn to the matching rings on your and Lestat’s fingers. You love putting on a good show. Even more so when you’re covered in blood during the after party when you and your vampire family start feeding on the selected victims from the ball. While you walk towards them in a straight line and assert your power, they run and scream in terror. In vain, they try to break down the locked doors and windows. It’s a massacre, a bloodbath, and one hell of a good time. (Whether you know of Claudia and Louis’ plan to kill Lestat or not is up to you.)

17. Vamps inspired AU: You’re a vampire who was turned against your will. During the 1970’s, you met and fell in love with Daniel, a fresh young journalist who was aspiring to achieve more as a writer. You were only together for a few short years before you left. As much as it pained you to do so, you knew you had to leave him before he noticed you weren’t aging and got suspicious. He could have a normal life and hopefully find another love. You loved him so much that you didn’t want to be selfish and condemn him to vampirism. So you parted ways both for his sake and to protect your secret, before he had his first interview with Louis.

Now it’s 2022 and Daniel is an old man. When he’s interviewing Louis again, he’s surprised to see you, seemingly either living with or working for the vampire, just like Rashid. When he questions you, you lie. You say you’re not his past love, but her daughter, and that your mother died. It isn’t until much later in the interview, after Rashid reveals his true identity as Armand that you also come clean. You tell Daniel that he was right about you, and that you’ll answer any questions he has. You spend a great deal of time catching up as you ask him about his life, family, career, etc. And he asks you about your own life, why did you leave, why didn’t you tell him or turn him, etc. (Maybe you’re Armand’s sister and over 500 years old so the sun has no effect on you either.)

[nightqueen1221]

Update

i finished IWTV today, so it's getting added.

[nightcolorz]

we don’t give devils minion era Daniel enough credit bcus imagine ur boyfriend (who can kill you) has the emotional volatility of an ultra mentally ill teenager and u fight constantly and not only is this bitch prone to tantrum style throwing and breaking things when he’s angry, he can also *read your mind* and 100% is going to call u out and break down cry and scream etc over something you DIDN’T EVEN SAY OUT LOUD 😭😭 like omfg Daniel can have the most restraint in the world during an argument and his uncontrollable stream of consciousness is still going to get him in deep shit, it’s a miracle he fared as well as he did actually

[cece693]

Pain (Lestat de Lioncourt x Male Vamp. Reader)

This small fic came to me while looking through Pinterest. You know those little 'aesthetic' quotes? Well, it came from this one specifically:

'I loved you even when it hurt.'

This fic includes things from both the movie and TV show, so no specific Lestat was used for inspiration. Enjoy.

Summary: On the anniversary of his transformation, m/r can't help but remember his past: one that includes his ex-lover and sire, Lestat de Lioncourt.

M/n was tired. Though his outward appearance betrayed no signs of aging—no wrinkles, no gray hair, no creaking bones—the weight of centuries bore down on him. As he gazed at the midnight sun, a harbinger of his impending retreat to his coffin, m/n decided to indulge himself and spend more time out in the open. After all, this was the only time he could enjoy the new wonders of the world, yet this was not just any ordinary day. Tonight marked the anniversary of m/n's transformation into one of the undead.

Reflecting on the past, m/n reminisced about the persuasive allure of Lestat, the vampire who had sweet-talked his way around rationality, promising a life brimming with pleasure and abundance. In the initial decades, it was a splendid existence.

Lestat had a way of making m/n feel truly special. The once mundane aspects of mortal life were now elevated to extraordinary heights in the vampiric realm, and Lestat made sure m/n felt the full extent of his newfound powers.

There were moonlit strolls through shadowy alleyways, where Lestat shared the secrets of their immortal world. He spoke of the intoxicating thrill of the hunt, the taste of forbidden blood, and the freedom that came with transcending the limitations of mortality. Lestat created a world where every moment felt like an eternity of bliss. However, m/n should've known his novelty would wear off. Lestat was a man driven by desire and ambition, wanting to taste the newest and finest things in life. What would m/n offer to such a monster who had already taken everything? So when Lestat's attention was redirected to another human named Louis, m/n felt pain.

He was angry at Lestat for casting him aside, yet the blame couldn't be placed on him alone—m/n should've known that a creature such as Lestat could never be tied down, despite how much he proclaimed to love you. So, when the ethereally beautiful vampire introduced Louis as his newest creation, a realization dawned on m/n. Lestat wasn't his anymore.

And Louis, the unwitting figure in their love triangle, bore no blame for his and Lestat's fallout. M/n grappled with conflicting emotions, attempting to cultivate hatred towards the vampire who seemed to have stolen Lestat away. Yet, against his own efforts, all he could muster was pity. For as much as Louis and Lestat showcased their 'love' through tender kisses and clandestine touches, m/n saw through the facade.

In the quiet moments when Lestat thought no one was watching, m/n observed the flickers of longing and boredom in the vampire's blue eyes. It became evident that the passion between Louis and him, while palpable, was also marred by perpetual restlessness. Not even months into Louis' stay did the cracks in their relationship begin to manifest themselves.

"Out with Antoinette?" Louis would hiss, the accusatory tone hanging heavy in the air, ensuing another argument between the two. As the discord between Louis and Lestat escalated, M/n found himself unwittingly becoming a refuge for Lestat. The vampire, seeking solace in the familiar, turned to M/n whenever the storms of conflict raged with Louis. In those moments of anger, Lestat was M/n's again, yet it also drove him to the brink of madness and unhappiness.

He had days, if lucky, where things would go back to how they were—a semblance of the love they once shared. But whenever the storms settled between Louis and Lestat, m/n would be relegated to loneliness once more. One day, unable to bear the emotional rollercoaster any longer, he confronted Lestat. The air was thick with tension as they stood facing each other, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between them.

"You can't keep doing this, Lestat." M/n pleaded, the frustration and anguish evident in his voice. "Keep me here when you clearly love Louis. How would you like it if I were to do the same?"

M/n regretted saying anything as Lestat's eyes darkened, and a snarl emerged on the vampire's lips. In a sudden, swift motion, Lestat pinned m/n to the wall, his grip firm and possessive. The room seemed to close in as Lestat hissed, "You belong to me."

"I don't belong to anyone." M/n retorted, anger engulfing his body.

Lestat laughed coldly in his face, grip tightening, he smirked. "That's where you're wrong, love," he taunted, his voice dripping with both amusement and cruelty. "I own you…"

The possessive declaration sent a chill down m/n's spine, his anger giving way to a growing sense of unease. Lestat's dark laughter reverberated in the confined space, echoing the shifting power dynamics between them. Trapped against the wall, m/n felt the weight of Lestat's control, a dominance that left him conflicted and vulnerable.

Lestat's smirk widened, his gaze predatory as he continued, "You're mine to protect, mine to control. I've tasted your blood, felt your heartbeat sync with mine. You're bound to me in ways you can't comprehend."

M/n, trapped against the wall, felt a cold chill run down his spine at Lestat's words. The once cherished intimacy between them now felt like chains, binding M/n to a fate he hadn't fully understood.

In a moment of intense emotion, Lestat, fueled by the strange dance of power and desire, leaned in, capturing m/n's lips in a possessive kiss. The meeting of their mouths was both a declaration of dominance and a desperate attempt of Lestat's to re-establish his control over m/n. Perhaps, in his pursuit of novelty and excitement, he had unknowingly neglected his first creation in favor of the alluring Louis. However, what neither m/n nor Louis knew was that, hidden beneath the layers of Lestat's charismatic exterior, there existed a capacity for love.

As Lestat's lips sought dominance in the heated kiss, there was an intricate play of emotions beneath the surface.

The neglect that m/n had felt wasn't an absence of love but rather a reflection of Lestat's internal struggle to navigate the complexities of immortal relationships. Lestat, a vampire with a history of numerous lovers, had reveled in the pleasures of passion without feeling a deep emotional connection—until m/n entered the picture. Even his intense relationship with Louis didn't compare to the profound connection he shared with m/n.

As the intensity of their heated kiss began to wane, Lestat pulled away, his eyes fixed on m/n with a mixture of possessiveness and intensity. "If you dare to run away," Lestat whispered, "Know that I'll drag you back to my side. And that's a promise."

[st-armand]

Hobie Brown & Anarchism: A Discussion Pt 2 (Race)

Authors Note: This is my dissertation for the discourse about Hobie’s politics being misrepresented as your friendly community radical leftist

Warnings: Political Ideologies, mentions of violence and oppression

Hobie’s politics are intertwined deeply with his race, as previously stated in my random headcanons post I talked about Hobie being a Jamaican Brit, he has a lot of great analysis on colonization and imperialism, living in a colonized state of New London

(Again I’ve headcanoned Hobie to live in Lenapehoking **New York/Brooklyn and the surrounding areas** that was recolonized by the British Government and renamed New London, I’ll say he was raised in Camden but he relocated to New London when his family decided to leave due to many poor people being displaced to the new settlement. He still exists in the 70s for the most part but sometimes I do set it in modern times, there are some books ill add that are after Hobie’s time period)

Hobie is in touch with his Caribbean roots, a roadman, but an islander at heart, his grandparents raised him very similarly to their own upbringing in Jamaica, he’s well versed in the liberative politics of the Caribbean, keeping track of coupes, falsely installed leaders, environmental activism, labor strikes and organizations, and queer liberation movements, he knows he’s unable to support their struggle physically but as Spiderman he’s vocal about the efforts of those overseas fighting against settler colonialism.

There are often times where there a diaspora groups who have movements in the colonial lands for their homelands, and those are instances where he can be present to fight, and protect.

Hobie is a dark skinned black man, he’s spent his life navigating colorism and antiblackness, whether you headcanon him as other, he still has existed in spaces where black men and women trans and cis have faced antiblackness, misogynoir and trans-misognynoir, from his family, himself and his community.

For many years he spent time witnessing these acts from people around him (Like how many of us know what family members to trust with our identities and politics because of how lax and unaware the adults we were raised with speak), I don’t see him as the person to spew hate, but he has had to unlearn constructs around colorism and his social political understanding of the world, first through lived experience, then through learned information, and then through community action—praxis.

I’d personally headcanon him as possibly genderqueer and asexual (like myself) due to how often he’s the receiving end of unwanted sexual attention, he enjoys sex, but sees it as an intimate act with people he needs to trust. Saying this he still had to navigate being queer in homophobic and transphobic in black spaces, (This is for all my black trans friends, white trans people please don’t use this as a reason to be anti-Black, this is a intracommunity conversation.)

He was lucky to have an expanse of siblings with varying gender expressions and sexuality so his home was a safe space, but he still wasn’t immune to facing this violence.

He goes hard for dark skinned black people, and black people who aren’t conventionally attractive, he knows he has privilege with his looks and how that bends people in his favor, but regardless of that Hobie wants people to KNOW him on a deep level, and isn’t shy about deep emotional connections and emotional maturity, he knows people intimately, in ways where people expose their inner most turmoil to him and he accepts them as they are, and asks before offering advice.

Considering his feelings on treating people with respect regardless of appearance this is best shown with the way he interacts with houseless people on the street, he doesn’t shirk away from the smell or their appearance, he is knowing and emphatic to the circumstances they’ve been forced into, he isn’t deterred by their delusions, hallucinations of breakdowns, and he is an expert at deescalate them when they’re having a mental health crisis. He doesn’t openly antagonize people (for the most part) but he kinda has this aquarian way of showing his authority through his intellectual capacity and cool demeanor, he does speak down to people who are treating people in a discriminating fashion, he’s very shady.

Like lets say he’s in a group of people and their spewing colorist remarks he’ll dramatically sigh and rub his temples and say shit like,

“Ya don’t really read do you?”

“C’me off it mate”

“Someone’s new ‘ere”

And if the person or conversation continues in that direction, he’ll openly state his opinions instead of making the tension palpable with his shade.

“Y’know ‘s quite simple innit? Dark skinned black people are the lowest on colonial racial pillers, dark skinned women navigate it the hardest, having to live in the confines of racialized ideas of beauty and attraction.”

If the person is open to learning he’ll continue to teach them in a nuanced fashion, taking his time to explain and highlight the histories and how they connect with modern social standards, but if they aren’t he just continues to be annoyed and exasperated, usually before that happens his group ushers them away, their space isn’t for people who want to debate the livelihood of other people.

As a taste of the romance and platonic parts,

Hobie finds all people attractive, he sees past their physical traits, and focuses on the content of their character, their morals, their personal goals and aspirations, that is where he finds beauty in people, sexually or romantically? As I stated before he has to know you before initiating a relationship like that, but he does recognize that there are beautiful people, he prefers to get into relationships with black people or non-black people of color only if they are willing to navigate antiblackness alongside him and for the safety of other black people, and don’t expect him to stay in a relationship with someone who’s family is racists or discriminatory especially if you don’t verbally set boundaries and hold the defensive.

He does have non conventional ideas of romance, but he gives and shows love in all kinds of way that it makes it worth feeling insecure in the basis of the relationship, I don’t believe that his consistency joke was meant to be understood as jumping between person to person, or manipulating you into a relationship with no future goal in mind, he doesn’t mind spending the rest of his life alone, especially taking into consideration his role as Spiderman, but he wants to have someone who will anchor him in the chaotic inconsistent world, that the roles they play in love are adaptable, a giver, a provider, a support system, a friend, a comrade he plays all those roles effortlessly and knows which you need and when. He isn’t devastated by moving on from someone he loves, he recognizes that people are in your life for a reason for a certain period of time, short term and long term, and he doesn’t fight the change when the tides of life are moving against him.

I got all yalls request imma reply so you know I see them, will work on them in the next few weeks since application deadlines are coming up <33

[verysmolnerd]

You know what? Frik it!!! Some characters are getting booped!! By you!! 🐾🐾🐾

Otto Octavius:

He wasn’t expecting it one bit. He was hard at work and this attack came out of nowhere!

You had caught him overworking so many times, you’ve lost count at this point!

So, when it comes to dragging him away from the desk, you’ve gotten more creative.

There are times where you have lured him away by using your newlywed charm, and then there are times when it’s absolutely bonkers.

You’ve pulled him away with his spinny chair, you’ve even pulled it out from under him.

It gets a laugh out of him every time. Why? Because it shows him how much you care. When he loses track of time, you’re there to remind him.

He sometimes gets excited when he notices what time it is. Because it’s time for your mischief again.

You walked up to his chair and rested a hand on his broad shoulder.

“Hello, my dear. How are-“

You booped him right on his crooked nose. 🐾

What was once a look of adoration turned to one of shock. His eyes are wide and mouths agape; he couldn’t make heads or tails of it!

In fact, the piece of machinery that was in his hand fell to the table.

With the power of the boop, You powered off Otto. Cute and absolutely priceless.

Doc Ock:

How many times must he bolt the entrances down?! It seems like you’re always finding ways in here!!

He seems to close off one exit, and then he turns around to see you -his loving partner who’s more stubborn than they should be- arms open ready to embrace him.

You love him far too much, and he can’t take it at times. He’s no longer in control of his body, his free will is gone. He’s a slave to his own creation.

And yet.. you’re still there, for kisses, for comfort… it’s amazing, gobsmacking even. To have someone who will show him the light when he’s stuck in the darkest pits.

Regardless, he’s working nonstop: welding, wiring, or stealing; Doctor Octopus has been always working. Never resting.

He was placing another one of the components for his containment chamber when he heard a crashing noise.

He huffs when he sees that you had fallen out of the air vents. Scabs, dust, and dirt littered your face; but still a smile grazes your features.

He opens his mouth to say something, but you are quick to rise to your feet.

“For the last time. Get out-“

Boop attack!! 🐾🐾

The arms stop whatever they are doing and fall to the ground, limp.

They soon rise up and become docile for a brief moment. Chirping, nearing you.

And Otto? He’s in shock.

He looks at you with an aghast smile appearing on his face as you both discovered a way to fight the actuator’s influences.

The power of the boop. In the palm of your hand.

Maxim Horvath:

You were practicing alongside him. As per usual, he’s showing that tough love you’re so “ever” fond of.

It’s not like you hate training, it’s just that it gets tedious at times and there’s no banter between the two of you.

When you preform a spell correctly, you hear his huff of approval. Yep. That’s your indication.

When it’s time for a break you sit across from him in the fanciest chairs known to man. He has style, you’ll give him that.

He has a critical eye, reading a person is almost second nature to him. He’s been a live for a thousand years, after all.

Nothing seems to catch him off guard anymore, well, you don’t think anything ever did… until later in the evening.

It’s your turn to cook, despite his protests…. So when he took back the stove using magic, you weren’t surprised.

So, you had your own trick up your sleeve as you slowly approach him.

“Whatever you’re trying, I suggest you stop. It’s not going to work-“

Beep bap! Boop attack! 🐾🐾

You laugh at his shocked expression…. But then you start running when the furniture starts floating and is launched at you.

Snidley Whiplash:

With all the criminals piling into the bank, you would think that you’d be shaking in your boots… you’re not.

It’s Snidely and his hang you can see the top hat set atop his proud head as his incompetent criminals part like the sea.

“Give us your money and all of your gold.”

You roll your eyes despite the shouting you’re getting from your boss.

“Or what? You’ll drop an anvil on me?”

An array of clicks could be heard from all the pistols.

“Or we’ll shoot you!”

You can’t even count how many gun muzzles are pointed directly at your head.

Snidely looms over the counter, while you swat away your boss. Silently urging them to call the police. They run away, covering the ulterior motive by saying, “You’re on your own!”

“Hoo hoo,” you almost laugh from his stupid cackle. So you decide to lean forward, challenging him instead.

Snidely starts to lean back, unsure of what you’re planning.

“You think you can oppose, Snidely k Whiplash. Well, thing agai-“

You’ve been hit by🐾🐾 you’ve been struck by🐾🐾a boop criminal!

A blush adorns his face, as does the blinding police sirens outside.

He has heart eyes locked on you while he’s being pushed inside the squad car.

Hugh Weldon:

He had taken you star gazing. A common date, but a lovely one nonetheless.

You happily sit on the blanket while he excitedly tells you everything about the constellations he could see.

You felt like you could be his best student if you weren’t dating. Seeing him smile feels like your lifelong mission… and who are you to deny him of such happiness?

He had draped his coat over your shoulders, smiling with how it essentially swallowed you.

But now, you find that his ways of showing affection are short and sweet while dates are long and romantic. Cute.

He kissed you right before he went to view the stars, leaving you wanting more. So you swore for revenge.

So when he sat next to you, the trap was set.

When he opened his mouth, you got ready to strike.

“I think I saw the Orion constellation-“

He just triggered a boop attack!! 🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

He laughs and allows you to attack him with kisses as well.

You got him back, in the best way.

Comte de Reynaud:

The spring festival is in full swing, and you couldn’t help but notice that the Comte was watching from afar.

You don’t know why it s a shock to you considering that he’s there every single year after his wife left him.

He always looks so gloomy or cold and calculating. Always looking out for his people, never for himself.

Well, it’s about time someone looked out for him.

You made your way over to him, and you find that his demeanor is a tad bit different. He looks uplifting, like he had a sudden change of heart.

And you’re especially shocked when he asks, “May I have this dance?”

He’s not light on his feet, however, when the music slows…. That’s a different story.

He holds you like a man deeply in love and you couldn’t help, but wonder what caused this change.

When the songs softly decrescendo to an end, he pulls you closer.

“I believe that I-“ he stops himself.

Oh hell no! Boop for answers! 🐾🐾

His eyes flutter as he finishes his sentence, “I love you.”

That passionate look in his eyes was the last thing you saw before he claimed your lips…. And your heart.

Kostya:

The landowner makes frequent visits to your humble shop. You find that he does a lot of the manual work himself alongside others.

You know he likes you, by the way he gazes at you from across your shop. Some of the people who work here as well can see the adoration in his eyes. It’s as clear as day.

However, the shy landowner is famously known for holding his own words. Dying with his own verbal desires.

So, if you wanted anything to do with him, it would be on your own accord. You’d make the first move.

It seems like all the patrons are rooting for you as well, as you tap your fingers on your counter; thinking on what to do.

So when he enters the shop the same time he always does, you’re quick to accompany him; offering your help.

Rather than wanting anything, he takes the opportunity to talk to you. He’s very flustered when he admits it.

Honestly, he’s just a flustered mess to begin with.

“I’m sorry, I-“

Take that! Boop attack! 🐾🐾

His mouth is agape and it seems his flushed expression spread to you.

He quickly composes himself and asks you out on a date. That was his plan after all.

The boops brought him out of his shell.

Armand Gamache:

Reading together in the evenings is a common occurrence between you two.

You sit on his lap while he’s facing the fireplace. Three Pines is a cold and grueling place, but when you’re together, the freezing temperatures don’t appear to be all that bitter.

You’re cuddled right up next to him as he reads the page, pausing for you to read as well.

He had chosen another book about escapism. You’ve read so many with him that you don’t remember the names of the books, just the plot.

You don’t mind at all, you wouldn’t trade these moments for anything. Because normally, it ends up being a de-stressor for the both of you.

However, you were feeling a bit of mischief tonight. You’re always antsy when you’re plotting a scheme, he knows it all too well.

“What are you planning?”

And it was at that moment… he got booped. 🐾

He arches a brow, not sure what to make of this at first.

But then he marks the page he left off in and tightened his embrace on you. Peppering you with kisses until you couldn’t breathe.

Then he boops you as well, making you burst out in laughter.

It seems he has a few tricks of his sleeve as well.

[storiesforftm]

Could I request 1994 Armand x male reader? I don't think I've ever seen one of those 🥹 although I haven't checked in a while. Perhaps the reader is a recently turned vampire who attended one of the Theatre's plays? It's your choice whether it's an imagine or one-shot. Thank youuu in advance!

Absolutely!! Thank you for your suggestion! I hope this doesn’t disappoint!

Warnings: forceful feeding(?), blood, nudity (not in a smut way).

Synopsis: Louis takes y/n to the theatre of vampires to meet an old friend, Armand. Armand notices the new vampire, and how he must be thirsty, and tries to get him to feed, but guilt plagues Y/N’s mind.

—

Meeting Armand

“Here, change out of your clothes into these.” Louis had lent me his clothes for the night, as mine were bloodied from being turned, and from feeding on small animals, who’s corpses now lay across the room. It was a chilly night, and even though the cold didn’t bother me now, I could still feel the crisp air hit my skin.

I walked into a separate space so Louis couldn’t see me without a shirt on. Although my chest was flat, I was uncomfortable changing in front of another man, mostly because before I met Louis, I was presenting as a female, and only dressed in female clothing. When I was turned, my body also changed. The change made my body turn into what I wanted and needed it to be.

Once I was ready, we headed out for the night. Louis had told me about an old friend of his; Armand. Armand was said to have been the world oldest vampire yet, and I was now the youngest. To say I was nervous would be an understatement. Almost like he could sense it, Louis put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it gently, as if telling me that everything would be okay.

We were seated, and the show had started. There were hundreds of humans in the theatre, and their scent distracted me, I couldn’t hardly pay attention to the show, but I eventually started to tune out my hunger, and I caught the ending of the show.

A woman, wearing absolutely nothing, came out onto the stage. I felt sad for her. The audience just thought this was fake, but once the smell of blood hit me, I knew she was gone, and I was caught up in my guilt of killing innocent beings.

Eventually, it was over, and I was brought back to reality by Louis voice. “Still as disturbing as the first time I watched,” he said in a calm voice. I looked at him, and he looked back at me and smiled. “Come. I want you to meet someone.”

He took me by the hand, and led me down a long twisting hallway of stone stairs into the basement of the theatre, where I saw the vampire Armand himself. I locked eyes with him, then swiftly looked away out of nervousness. Then, I heard him speak, “Now, now, monsieur, don’t look away from me. I can sense your fear, but there is nothing to be afraid of.”

He walked up beside me, gently grabbed my chin, and made me look at him. His pale yellow eyes burned into mine as he studied my face. “What is your name?”

“Y/N,” I said confidently. All fear dissipating from my body. I stared back into his face, taking in all his features. Louis was keeping his slight distance, but he was still close enough to reach out and touch my shoulder.

“Y/N,” Armand began, “you seem parched.” His sentence made me realize the growing burning sensation in the back of my throat that longed for human blood, and he somehow knew that too. As he spoke his words, a slight smirk appeared on his face. I was having the same trouble Louis did when he was first turned. I felt guilty for taking life as small as a rat, how would I feel if I killed a human?

“You will feel better after this, Y/N,” Armand said. I watched Armand walk away towards a group of vampires who were hiding something. Hiding someone. They departed and showed me a woman who was sleeping in a thin robe. I took my eyes off her for a second. It seemed wrong. Luring innocent people away from their families, only to be fed to the monsters of the night. But Armand saw that I had looked away, and as quick as light, ran to be behind me, and held my face so I’d have no choice but to look at her silhouette draped in a mesh robe.

Louis started getting defensive for me, knowing how uncomfortable not only physical touch made me, but seeing vulnerable people. “Armand, don’t be so harsh on him. This is very new to him, don’t you see how he is frightened?”

“You are his maker, yes?” Armand asked. Louis nodded his head, “Yes. I am.”

“Then you must teach him to have no fear, and there is no pain when a human life is taken. He must learn to survive, just as you did.” Armand took me by the arm and led me to the woman. Louis stayed close behind me.

Armand put me on my knees, gently bit the wrist of the sleeping woman, and offered her to me. I closed my eyes, and hung my head in guilt, trying to drown out all of the loud silence that filled the room, and Armand saw his chance. He placed the woman’s blood on my lips, and as I tasted the warm, metallic blood, I had forgotten all sense of control.

There isn’t much I remember, but I know that Louis and Armand had to remove her from my grasp, and as I was removed, I slowly came to. My senses came back to me, and as I looked at what I had done, my guilt over came me, and I wailed in anger and frustration.

I ran back to her, but she was gone. I wept over her body, and Armand came up behind me. Louis was in front of me, watching me cry.

“And why is it you weep over a corpse?” Armand asked. “She feels no pain now. She is gone.”

“Yes, she is gone,” I began. “But it was all because of me. I killed her.” There was a brief moment of silence between the three of us.

“Do the farmers feel guilt when they kill for food, y/n?” Armand asked.

“Surely the must, a little,” I said quietly. “Of course not! They raise the cattle and kill them for meat. They do not love them! They love themselves.”

Armand bent down to me and places his hand on my cheek, and made me look at him. “That is why they kill. To survive. You do no more than what farmers do. You kill to survive. They kill, they eat, they kill again. Every one of us is trapped in the same cycle. We just happen to be at the top of it.”

Armand stood back up and got other theatre vampires to whisk the woman’s body away from me. I let them take her. Even though I physically felt stronger, I’ve never felt so low. I stood up and wiped my mouth and my tears. Armand stood in front of me and held me by my shoulders once again.

“Y/N,” I looked up at him and he bent down near my ear and whispered, “You are strong. You will overcome the guilt.”

It was time for us to leave, but before we could, I had to clean up first. I was given new clothes and my face was cleaned thoroughly, and as Louis and I walked out the door, Armand looked back at us, and welcomed us to the theatre anytime for any reason. I knew I’d go back soon enough.

—

Okay, so this is gonna be my first published one-shot 🙏🤭 I hope you enjoyed!

Some final thoughts on this story: I felt it was semi-accurate to 1994 Armand. I tried to write his character from memory, but the last time I actually watched the movie was about a year ago?? So I’m sorry if some things weren’t quite in his character. I also wanted to include some trans-esque character traits, but didn’t want the story to be centered around Y/N being trans, (so if that doesn’t resonate with you, I’ll make another one-shot!). Thank you for this suggestion, and I hope you all have a wonderful day!

[plush4bunny]

Gamache having a one-night stand and it ends up having potential? 👀 that would be the spicy agenda yo ought to know more for @chrism02's tension-heavy fic called "Under wraps"

[soultek]

In Another Life - Bogard x Female!Reader (One Piece Live Action)

A/N: This actually started as much more based on the lyrics of this song than it ended up - I guess this wasn't exactly my intent! It was initially meant to be so much more angsty. But that's how you roll when you just let the characters point you in a direction when you're writing. Every point on my plan got covered - that's all that matters! 😁✌

ALSO this is the first work I've EVER had properly edited for me, so, thank you very much Josh! I appreciate you taking the time to read this! [You don't know what you've got yourself in for agreeing to do more... haha! 😈]

The format editing on Tumblr broke me. So you get what you get below and I'm very sorry but I just could NOT anymore... You'll see it because it is very SPECIFICALLY one sentence that Tumblr seems to find issue with - so now that's just a random paragraph by itself in the middle of a conversation.

Disclaimer: Only the reader character is mine. He's kinda pieced together using elements of his anime counterpart because hell yeah I went back and watched those episodes for further characterisation. Nothing I've used is spoilers. The origami thing is original - but that's only because I've seen a ton of [fan] art of him with birds and I was like "Is this a thing? I need to include it somehow!" Turns out the birds are just a Marine HQ thing - but I liked the idea so I've kept it!

The 'backstory' is also originally because we don't know a whole lot about him yet in either media... sooooo...

Warnings: innuendo, sexual connotations, mention of injury, smoking, mild swearing, mild plot-relevant OOC.

Premise: HQ 3 is back in town. And for you, that ship brings a lot more with it than just injured marines. You're prepared for the usual push and pull this 'situationship' brings. You might not be so prepared for the other news he has for you...

Word Count: 7906

Song Inspo: Another Life - Tenille Arts

Full Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/29SKzlmL31pHFk54BwnO7k

--- Cause I don't wanna kiss anybody else's lips I don't wanna feel anybody else's touch I just wanna be the old you and me We'd be married, have a house and kids by this time In another life

In another life I would get to kiss you goodnight Hold your hand, play with your hair, feel your arms around me Giving me the best hug Yeah, we'd be so in love

In another life

I wouldn't have to kiss anybody else's lips I wouldn't have to feel anybody else's touch We could just be the old you and me We'd be married, have a house and kids by this time And you'd be here tonight In another life

---

Nothing new. That was how you would describe the day. Sitting in your office working through the papers of every Marine coming in and out of your ward; you weren’t sure you knew what busy was anymore. It seemed to be the same all the time - with very little variation in the amount of work you had to do day-to-day - sometimes you just had to work on them faster. With more and more to do for the Marines on the front lines, and with seemingly every other person declaring themselves to be a 'Pirate' these days, at least things were never dull - that you could count on. Today, another ship arrived, apparently with a lot of injured Marines on board, given how many new papers you had stacked up on your desk. You sat back in your chair and blew out a breath. You were glad at least none of these new patients appeared to be in any serious condition. The most interesting thing to you was the newly docked ship's designation: HQ 3. You regarded the papers again, and began to rifle through them slowly. He hasn’t said anything, you thought. Figures. There could be a reason for that, of course… he could be in here. You dared not go through them too quickly to find out. These days he had no reason to tell you, either.

Marking another case as not urgent, you became aware of a sudden clamouring outside your office. Back and forth yelling that sounded more like panic. So much for hiding away... Pushing yourself up from your desk, you opened the door and leaned against the frame, poking your head out into the corridor. Several nurses and doctors were running between rooms, each and every one worked for you now. Which meant that when you called out to them, they stood to attention. "What's going on out here!?" "Nothing we can't handle." "Oh, I have no doubt - is everything okay?" "Some of the new inpatients have a flair for the dramatic is all M'am!" You chuckled, folding your arms, and touched your head to the doorframe too. "Sounds right. Maybe we should give them something to be dramatic about!" You cracked a grin. "If sedative is necessary, get that going - but nothing appears serious. I don't want anyone else on the ward panicking or getting distressed though. Try to get them to keep it down." You winked. "Else I’ll be forced to tell them to, and I'm pretty sure they won't want that."

The small group who had paused to listen to you nodded along, before almost shying away from you, and retreating into the rooms they had come from. You were about to ask why – unless they were scared you were about to force something more upon them yourself – before your question was answered for you. "Oh, I don't know about that." You couldn't have stopped the smile spreading across your face if you'd tried. Not at the sound of that voice. You turned your head to him slowly. HQ 3 meant Garp, and the Vice Admiral brought with him his right-hand man, who was now staring back at you with something of a small smile lifting the corner of his mouth.

Bogard was leaning against the wall right outside your door, letting it support his full weight, right arm held across his body, left hand raised to his chin. If you'd have bet on that stance, you might have won. He had a nasty habit of just appearing like this, but you would never be one to complain about that.   You let your eyes linger on him as you drew them up and down his body. You could pretend it was for your deduction, but you both knew better. "What are you doing here? You don’t look injured to me.” His dark eyes swept the ward, which now hosted a group of Marines from the ship he sailed on. “Where he goes, I follow.” He started. “And, if I leave the ship here, I get to see you. So, it’s not all bad. Guess we’ll be staying while we stock back up, do repairs,” he paused briefly. “The usual.” You bit back the words you really wanted to say. "Doesn't sound so bad. Guess you'll be wanting the recent discharge list?" "You read my mind." "I know you!" You let that statement linger before adding, "all business. Let me get you that list."

You withdrew back into your office, gathering the papers of cleared Marines now waiting to be assigned back onto any ships that were currently docked who were in need of recruits. Much to your surprise you found your hands were shaking. You took a deep breath to steady your nerves; maybe you were more excited about this encounter than you anticipated. To say your relationship with the man standing outside your door was complicated would be an understatement. Something along the lines of a long distance, long term situationship might sum it up best - but they were just a few words that meant nothing to the history of it.

You had been a cadet when you'd first met him. He was a few years older than you. Back when Bogard was just finding himself in the Marine's. It was obvious to you then how fast he was going to climb the ranks. You'd been friends since day one - well, almost. Once you'd graduated your cadet training and had chosen to be stationed as part of the medical division, you began to realise just how injury prone and stubborn he was. At least that was the way he always presented himself to you. The number of times early on you'd found yourself patching up his gashes and wounds with him insisting they were just scratches were innumerable. You found yourself very quickly worried about him in ways that went beyond mere friendship. And the next time he'd done it had been your final straw. You couldn't recall your confession exactly, but you did remember that it came out in the middle of a heated ramble. You had been in tears – you were mad at him for getting hurt, and you were crying because you didn’t want to lose him. Fixing him up that time quickly led to a first kiss, and soon after a relationship. But it didn’t last.

Although he would never tell the story that way, the truth was at that point Bogard had been just dumb enough to make sure he always got an injury, so he had an excuse to stop by and see you, but smart enough to make sure he was never in any real danger. He had mellowed out a lot since then - he was so much more serious and careful now - especially with the responsibilities he had. Man, the more you thought about it, the more you realised just how much time had passed... You carried just as many responsibilities yourself now, but could you say that you didn't still worry about him? No - but he was always so far away that you couldn't allow yourself to dwell on it too much. The 'see you when I see you' was fine if he was going to turn up at your door looking as pristine as he did today. Bogard knew what he was doing - he wouldn't be Garp's second in command if he didn't. You trusted that you had no reason to worry about him. Not even on the Grand Line. If he did ever come back injured - you didn't want to think too much about it - you knew you'd go above and beyond. If anyone had ever been curious about what you were, then that scenario would probably hold all the answers. Though while that wasn't happening, it was fine as a mystery.

He hadn't moved an inch when you returned with the stack. "Here you are, unless I should be giving these to the Vice Admiral?" Bogard took the papers in a way that suggested which was wisest; to him. You held your hands up to indicate that was well noted. "Just let me know who stays and who goes so I can update my records." He flipped through them quickly. "Of course. I suppose it will depend on how many we want that aren't cadets." "Cadets? I mean there might be some fresh faces there, but they will come with a little experience." "Might need that where we're going." This time it was his right hand held to his chin as he moved to answering your question quickly. "Yes, cadets. We're training them." "You're training cadets?" You could see it, actually. He'd be good at that - tough but fair. His captain too. "Lucky cadets." Bogard placed the papers in his pocket. His expression seemed to suggest that might not be the phrase he'd use. He looked up and passed you, studying the corridor and listening to the activity you'd just set in motion, before turning his attention fully back to you. "The whole ward, huh?" "It'll be the whole medical centre soon." "So I hear. Never in doubt when it comes to you." You looked away bashfully - voice quiet. "Thank you." "Still, you could be out on a ship as the main doctor. A HQ ship even. You're plenty good enough." You made a noise, but didn't want to look like you were laughing at his suggestion. "Despite being a Marine, I still prefer dry land. I'm comfortable here. I enjoy my work! I’m even about to be promoted. Where do you go once you're a ship doctor for a HQ vessel?" "It would be worth it for all the places you would see,” he continued. “The prestige." You knew where this was headed, and turned it back on him as quickly as you could. "And you, what about when they call you to World Government bureaucracy and pen-pushing, and you spend more time in a building than you do on the open ocean?" You asked. Bogard made a face like he was considering it, but you knew he wasn't. “Right now, I would probably decline such a position.” he huffed. “I think I have much to learn before I go there." “Uh huh." You knew that, how could you not? Just like he knew you didn't want to be out at sea. No matter how many times he would try to persuade you out there every time he saw you.

That was the point you had known it wouldn't work out. You wanted him safe with you, whereas he wanted you to go travelling the world with him. Neither would comprise. And so, every time you met, you would dance around this question again. Asking without saying 'why aren't we together, really?' in a different way every time. The reality was you'd both chosen your preferred lifestyles and your work over each other. But you weren’t about to admit that out loud, and Bogard wasn't either. So, here you stayed.

To make sure this didn't get too heavy immediately, you cleared your throat and changed the subject. "I heard you were in the East Blue?" He gave a short nod, but instead of offering any more information, he hit back with a rumour of his own. You couldn't say you was surprised that he would keep his official work a secret - such the man he was these days. You knew you'd get it out of him eventually. Though it might take something a little less... professional... "I heard you were with some captain." Try as he might to hide it, Bogard let his emotion seep into his voice. It was obvious who and what he was referring to, and he wasn't happy about it. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from teasing him about being jealous - that wouldn't end well. And what with where you were right now, you had to be very careful what you let slip, just in case of any prying eyes and ears. And you also knew that Bogard knew he had no right to be jealous - regardless of the truth. Still, this was one thing you wouldn’t tease him about. Reassurance was the only way forward. "Rumours fly.” You dismissed. “That was never a thing." Which was true, after all, you still only had eyes for the man in front of you. Despite the fact that there had never been a conversation about it between you. You could date someone else. You just weren’t sure if Bogard believed you, especially as you didn't know how long he had been holding onto that knowledge for. You knew how much he valued the truth though, so lying would have been unwise at best. “I’d never do that.” you continued. To you, you thought. But you left that part off. You were met with the same steady look he'd been regarding you with throughout this whole conversation so far. You sighed, glancing behind you back down the ward - all seemed calm right now. They knew how to reach you if they needed your help. Turning back to him, you offered a gentle smile. "Care to take a walk with me?" He pushed himself away from the wall with a smile. Turning across, he offered you his arm - ever the gentleman. You smiled back sweetly, wrapping yourself around him, and allowing yourself a moment to admit in your mind just how much you'd missed him.

For a while there was silence, but it was comfortable and more relaxed. You both knew you wouldn’t be able to stray very far. It'd be more like a walk around the block, but it was still away from unwanted attention. He watched you closely. You carried yourself and your rank well. You coped with the pressure of it all. You could handle yourself. You just wouldn't answer the call to open ocean. It seemed strange to him, but he admired how sure of yourself, and your convictions you were. He would not change your mind, no matter how much he wanted to. Still, there was something about the rumour that was bothering him. It wasn't that Bogard thought you were lying - of course you wouldn't. You knew how much he disapproved of it. It was the subject of the rumour that hurt Bogard most. Of all the people that rumours could fly about with you, not him, but someone else? Someone who must have seen you far less than Bogard did… at least he would hope so. People were aware you had been something once. Was it so hard to believe that you might be making it work again? Bogard put in the work even when he was so far away. There were more than enough reasons to conclude that he was still with you. In many ways, he wanted to be asked. Even if he went against his principles and denied it. Though, given you weren't technically a couple, it wasn’t technically lying. He hated how much it caused him to wonder if you had ever been with anyone else ever since you broke up. If Bogard couldn't even get a rumour going, but someone else could? It bothered him that he could get wrapped up in such a way. You weren’t his. But the exclusivity was an unwritten rule. It was expected that you would always be able to return to each other like this. That didn't mean if either of you fell in love with someone else… Surely you had both expected the other to have moved on by now. You both should have moved on by now! It hadn’t been months after all; it hadn’t even been a few years. It was closer to decades, and here you both were. Bogard just didn't want to hear it being discussed. He wasn't sure what heartbreak would feel like; but he didn't want to know either way. And he hated even more that, after all this time, if he lost you for good, he knew his heart would break.

The silence from him wasn't something that you thought was particularly unusual - Bogard was notoriously a man of very few words.  Though you often wondered what ran through that head of his; but someone had to keep Garp in check, so you knew his mind was sharp at least. They seemed like complete opposites - which, you thought, made them perfect for each other. Walking with him this close around the medical centre was enough for you right now. It was nice getting used to his presence again. Even if you knew you'd have to let him go soon. And too soon at that. Glancing over to him, you recognised Bogard’s look was a little further away than you had expected. Realising that you wanted those gorgeous brown eyes back on you, you broke the silence. If he was in his head about this stupid rumour - which you wouldn't be surprised if the Marine Captain had started and stoked himself - then you knew what he needed to hear. And if he felt the truth was so important, he was about to get some. "I have to say, I'm not entirely sure why you're so worried about that rumour. It's me who should be thinking about things like that. Why, I bet you have a girl in every port!" It was clearly a joke, but his look was a little too sharp - Bogard clearly took offence to the idea he was worried. Even if he was. Luckily, his expression quickly softened. "Guy on every ship." He quipped back. You gasped, ready to take full offence to that. "That's way worse than the rumour! Stop it! What do you take me for!? At least mine could happen!" You weren’t stupid - he was a good-looking man. Loyal, dedicated; an old-fashioned romantic. Work-driven sure, but you'd seen other women fall for him. All it would take was for him to find one who he could fall for too, who would share in his dream and actually want to travel the world on a ship with him as a Marine. It scared you a little how easy it was for you to imagine that he could be in a very happy relationship right now. Bogard raised an eyebrow. Surely you didn't believe that, he thought. And if you did, how wrong you were. Surely the ridiculousness of his own statement only highlighted the ludicrousness of your own? How untrue it was? For you though, it was clear you had a point. Besides, what did he have to be worried about? Who would you date anyway? It wasn't like you were about to pick up a guy at a bar or something. "Nearly all the men I see around here are either sick or injured." You protested. He shrugged, and when he doubled down, you were glad you could hear the jokey tone to his voice. "All the more time to get to know them then." "Please." You scoffed, pushing his arm a little. "Besides, you're the only one writing to me, and making me origami, so..." He stopped so abruptly, but you were ready for that. Halting to measure his reaction. He looked across to you curiously. You never wrote him back; he didn't expect you to. Bogard smiled - for once a little wider than usual. Possibly more of a smirk. "Like those, do you?" He teased. You allowed yourself to blush under the weight of his look. The bolstered confidence in him at your words, and then your admittance. "Maybe a little too much."

Despite the jokes you made, it was barely covering up what you really meant - bringing to light exactly what you were both most worried about. And the ego-boosting rush of hearing that it wasn't true. The real truth was no matter how nonchalantly either of you said goodbye - see you later - neither of you wanted to see the other with someone else. Neither of you would like it very much. The difference was you were quite prepared for the possibility of that eventuality. Bogard was not.

Once you had made the full circle and wandered back to your office, you resumed much the same positions as you had before. Although closer and more comfortable this time. Once the ice had thawed a little, you were now acting more as friends. (As if that was all you were.) Where you could get him to smile a little, and if you were very, very, very lucky, you might even get a huffed laugh out of him. Although he did have one last piece of official business to pass by you. He pulled some rolled-up papers out of his Marine coat. "You asked about the East Blue before." He started. "I did." You straightened your relaxed posture a little. Assuming you wouldn't have to do any work to get a candid answer this time. "We were there chasing around a new upstart young group of Pirates." He continued. "Another group?!" You very nearly rolled your eyes; you’d lost count of the crews popping up all over the place over the years. HQ 3 seemed a little overkill, though. "You guys? Really?!" Bogard shook his head. "Understandable reaction. But this crew has potential." He held the roll out to you. "May I request you put these up around the wards?" You looked from the roll to him and back and took it gently. "These upstarts already have bounties?" You asked. "Their captain does." He replied. You continued to stare at him questioningly, but when all he did was stare back, you knew the answer was on the paper itself. You unravelled them and almost let out a laugh.

'Monkey D. Luffy' - the name explained everything. You looked back at Bogard with an amused expression and raised eyebrow. Bogard merely shook his head, expression in understanding of your reaction. 'Let's not go there!' "Sure. I'll put these ones up! That's quite the bounty for the East Blue though! Who'd he piss off!?" You walked back into your office to put it with your unfinished pile of admission checks. This time Bogard followed you, standing in the doorway. "Nezumi.” He replied. “Oh, that weirdo? With the rat face?” You circled your head with your finger. “Rat would certainly be one way to put it.” You couldn’t help your perhaps overly loud reaction. “Oooh! Ooooh. Ooh! Would you like me to tell him that next time I see him?” Bogard placed his hands either side of your door frame, leaning in a little.  ‘Oh yeah you would badmouth me like that!,’ he thought - instant reaction - mouth opening before he changed his mind. Returning to a more relaxed lean, and crossing his arms. “I wouldn’t waste my breath.” You whistled. “Damn! You got a mouth on you.” Sharp as the blade he carried - when he wanted to be. But perhaps also a sign of how close you were, that he would speak as freely as this. Instead of responding, he opted to watch you with his eyes narrowed. You chuckled. “No, I know you. I know that you don’t waste your words.” Pausing for thought, you placed the papers down slowly. Raising your eyes to the window, you mused. “I guess I feel honoured that you share so many of them with me.” “Writing letters is completely different.” He replied. You looked across to him; voice sweet, and smile gentle. “That’s not what I meant.” Bogard bit his lips together, unsure of a comeback. Instead he wound the conversation back, nodding to the poster you just placed down. “Highest bounty on the East Blue now, actually. Doubt he'll stay there though." He said. "Ah. Grand Line bound!" You replied inquisitively. For a while the whimsy of it all had you smiling, until your smile dropped in realisation. If HQ 3 had been chasing them around the East Blue? You looked back to him slowly. Was Bogard going to follow them around the Grand Line? How long would that take? How long would it be until you saw him again? Even he knew he didn't have the answer to that. As he'd stated - where Garp went, he did. No questions asked. Still, Bogard couldn't leave it like that. He felt compelled to reassure you. "Of course, we might not follow them. We had investigations going on before they arrived on the scene." You remembered. "What now then? You really think you'll be back to 'Baroque Works'?" "We were heading that way anyway. I don't see why that would change now." He shrugged. "Doubtless you'll find out when I write to you!" You chuckled, running your fingertips over the picture in the wanted poster. A new kid on the block in a straw hat? Generations had seen this before.

Silence fell for a moment, which allowed him time to look around your office. Then he really couldn't help but smile. Lined up along the window frame, and just about every spare space on your shelves were collections of intricate origami. Bogard had sent you every single one of them. His preference was birds of different shapes, sizes, and colours. But they were all there. Every letter he had sent you came with one, and he'd sent you a letter every time he felt he had something worth saying. Writing back wasn't the point of it. He could guarantee that no one else knew where these came from. Whether you made them or they just appeared. But they weren't there for anyone else to know about - they were there for you. And every time Bogard saw them he wondered how the hell he could ever let himself get worried about any feelings you might have for anyone else. He looked back to you - having finished studying the picture of Luffy, you were now watching him - and Bogard knew he'd been caught with a rare smile on his face. He let it bleed into his words. "You kept them all." It wasn't a question, and his heart swelled. You giggled, pulling a box draw out from the top of your desk. "Honey, you have no idea!" From within it spilled forth letters upon letters, all wrapped up in Marine paper and blue ribbon. You had kept every single one of them too.

It was a little later in the day, as you were finishing up another round of administering medication, when you returned to your office and found that another Marine had made himself comfortable there. And not the one you would have expected. "V-Vice Admiral!" You stood to attention as he rose from your chair, "Sir! How can I help you?" "At ease, please!" His smile was warm, "In fact it's me that I think can help you!" He held out the stack of papers you'd given Bogard earlier. "I trust my second in command’s judgement on these." You took them gratefully. "Of course. I'll make sure everyone is prepped and ready to cast off when you're ready to set sail, Sir." "Better make it sooner rather than later, Lieutenant.” Garp placed his hands in his pockets, expression serious. "I don't want to be hanging around for too long. We have much to get started on." "Oh- I see." You knew you was failing at hiding your look of disappointment. Letting go was never easy, but if you had to do it sooner than you expected? You'd only just got Bogard back - you weren’t ready to let him go again just yet. Garp could see it on your face. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen Bogard interact with you before. They'd stopped off here plenty of times. He'd just never pried into the private life of his second in command before. But something was clearly going on this time. If he hadn't thought so before. He indicated to the origami on your shelves. "I always wondered where these went. Clearly, Y/N, they all come to you!" Your eyes widened. You didn't even know anyone else knew Bogard made them. "Y-yes, when he writes he always sends..." You gestured to the shelves, wondering if you'd said too much. Did Garp know that he... wrote to you? "Would have thought writing was his preferred method of communication. I know he’s a man that’s concise at best.” he continued. “Though he never seems to have that problem around you. Which is something in itself." You knew you was blushing by now, and you couldn't quite meet the Vice Admiral’s eyes. What he was saying was by no means untrue. "He's not always been like that." You were lying and you knew it. But you had to say something. You had no idea what Garp did or didn't know, or what Bogard would even want his superior to know! "Mhm." You weren’t sure that response was convincing enough. "Can't help but wonder exactly what's going on between you two." he enquired. Dammit! You were definitely turning redder now. "He-" You paused. Then took a deep breath, locking eyes with Garp this time. "We were once a couple, yes. But, we went our separate ways due to our own work preferences." You gave a shrug, realising how sad you suddenly felt as you smiled. "He wouldn't stay. I wouldn't go." "...Shame." Garp nodded. "From what I’ve heard, you have enormous potential. Definitely something we could use out there." You bowed deeply. "Those are kind words, Sir. Thank you. But it was never what I wanted. The front line isn't for me, and I would be outright useless in a fight. I'm no field medic." "We could change that." He interjected. You laughed. "I hear you're training cadets?" You weren’t sure you wanted to go back to that, weren’t sure how you would act being trained by them, honestly. "With all due respect Sir, many have tried and at this point I think I'm fine being a competent medic, and a pathetic fighter. I barely scraped through weapons training, and I decided that I would never want to handle one again! At least not by choice." "Competent would not be the word I'd use." He took a few steps forward, causing you to stiffen your posture. "Brilliant, maybe." He tilted his head. "Funny you should say that and be going off with a swordsman." You gaped for a minute. "We-Well I--" You tried to compose yourself. "That was always Bogard's thing." Your laugh was nervous. "Though I admit I can't help but be fascinated. I notice that people are intimidated by him without him even having to draw. So, once he does?" It was hot. It made you feel a little something something, and you'd never really seen him in action in a real fight.

Though of course you were not about to mention this to Garp.

"Well, there's always room on my ship. If you want this to be something more.” He paused for a brief second. “Intimate again." Garp's stare was intense. "I do hope you'll consider it, Y/N." You swallowed hard. Intimate? As if you weren't still--- "A HQ ship would be an incredible honour, Sir. I…” you paused. “Surely will consider it." "Glad to hear it." he replied enthusiastically. Garp swept past you, but stopped at the door. "I have no doubt you'll have the Marine's prepped and ready for our departure. I do suggest if you want to spend any more time with my second, you get as much of it in as possible." Even if you couldn't see him, you could hear the amusement and smirk in his voice. "Should I send him back up to your office, Y/N?" You opened your mouth, but found you couldn't answer before he walked away laughing.

Next thing you knew you was back in the arms of your situationship - under the sheets.

***

Despite what Bogard and Garp had said, it was nice for them to stick around for a little while. It reminded you that you shouldn’t get your hopes up that it would be permanent. But it gave you a taste you couldn’t help but crave. He really was all yours here. And you could pretend you were somewhere in the past, thinking about this as your far-off future. One where neither of you had ever put anything above the other. Breaks were rare when you had work to do, but right now, you also couldn’t afford to spend any free time anywhere else.

Bogard was sitting on the steps to the medical wing when you found him. Hunched over what could only have been a lighter, given the small smoke trail.

You sighed gently, folding your arms and shaking your head. Taking the steps slowly towards him - it wasn’t like you were about to sneak up on the swordsman, he knew your footfall well enough by now - it still didn’t cause him to extinguish his smoke. You stopped on the step above the one he was sitting on. Two heavy steps down, to let him know you were less than impressed, hands moving to your pockets as you bent slightly over him - feeling all at once like a doctor scolding your patient. (Well, it wasn’t like you hadn’t already had the opportunity to check his full physical health at this point.) “You know those aren’t good for your health, right?” You started. As if to mock you, he took a long deliberate drag. “Trust me, if you were on my ship, you would need these to relax too.” He replied. You narrowed your eyes. “Oh no, Mister. No using your captain as an excuse!” “He’s a damn good one.” He protested. Another drag, before he removed it from his lips, but he didn’t put it out. You leaned yourself a little closer to him, lowering your voice – positively saccharine. “Don’t worry, you can order me around!” Bogard raised a hand to his mouth slowly, and coughed. You waited with a smirk on your face for him to take the bait. “Don’t tempt me.” Bogard gave his voice the appropriate stern edge. You had the cheekiest little grin on your face, and hummed like you were a little too happy with yourself for that one. He gave you enough time to bask in it, before looking back to his smoke. “You’re going to ask me to stop, right?” You folded your arms, sighing. “At the risk of sounding like a broken record. You know my spiel by now.” Bogard gave a single nod of agreement. “You’ve never quite got me to quit yet. I think by now you’d know it wasn’t going to happen.” His eyeline had remained level until that moment, but he looked up at you now. “How’s work?” He asked. “Nothing changes…” You shrugged. “But I do have five minutes.” You took the next step down and sank to sit with him. Bogard’s smile was gentle, no matter how obvious it was that you would choose to spend your precious free time with him when he was around, it didn’t make it any less significant of an act.  “Smoke?” He held it out to you. “Ha!” You liked that he smiled at your sarcasm though, his eyes back on whatever he was watching before. “What are you-?” Bogard nodded forward, then pointed, you followed his fingertip down to the beach. Upon it were Garp, and two marines whom he looked like he was giving a stern talking to. “Oh! Your cadets?” “Mhm.” “And you’re up here because?” He scoffed. “Please, you think they’re ready to take me on yet?” You almost rolled your eyes as he took another drag, making sure to blow the smoke away from you. “I can take on both of them using only my less dominant hand. It’d be hardly worth their time either. What does it teach them? Something they aren’t ready for?” You couldn’t help the smirk that toyed with your lips. “Do you have one of those?” “One of what?” He enquired. “A less dominant hand?” You teased. You couldn’t look at him, because you knew you’d crack - but you knew the kind of stare he was giving you, before he jogged your shoulder. “Stop.” You couldn’t help the quick burst of laughter you let escape.

You continued to watch the two young men train with Garp for a while. And eventually you let yourself unwind enough to lean up against his shoulder. It was funny how much more you felt his body sink into relaxation below yours after that. And he put his smoke out too. He was content to sit with you like this. Yes. This was exactly what you dreamed of. Even if you couldn’t say you missed Bogard often (you were far too busy working here to do much of anything!), at least you didn’t let yourself and your thoughts linger on that feeling for too long. This physical contact was exactly what you needed. His letters could cover almost everything else, letting you know he was okay and that you didn’t have to worry. It was exactly what made this work without it having to be a relationship. But they couldn’t hold you. They couldn’t replace his touch. Your eyes lowered to his hands. It was weird for you to think just what they were capable of. He could be so gentle, but his swordsmanship? Just how many lives had Bogard taken with the exact same hands that held you the way he did? You sank your teeth into your lip as you frowned. You could think these things all you liked. Right now you just wanted to hold them - that’s what you knew for sure.

Bogard regarded your body language. Even when you weren’t looking at him, he knew what you desired. It didn’t matter how damn long you had been away from each other. At this point, it was simply muscle memory. You could both say whatever you wanted. Sometimes he wondered if being “single” really was the easiest option for you. It sure sounded like it. But he knew how it complicated things. How it twisted your feelings. Maybe you couldn’t make it work together. But you couldn’t make it work without each other either. Bogard knew you were thinking about how this could be your life. How could you not be? He was thinking it too – and by now he knew you better than you knew yourself.

He moved his hand from his knee, extending it towards yours - palm up - still watching your reaction. You hesitated; too shy to look at him now. Bogard knew, of course he knew. At this point he might as well have been a mind reader. Your movements were slow and deliberate. You took his hand gingerly; lacing your fingers together. Before moving your other to fit his hand between yours. He watched you do this with a smile, before pulling your hands gently back into his lap. You made a small noise before burying your face in his shoulder; surely blushing now. He focused back on the beach, running his thumb over the back of your hand. Yes - this was worth coming back for. Even if accepting the way you otherwise lived meant he sacrificed this to miss you the rest of the time. And if neither of you would move to give that up, you always would.

*** Seeing him off came all too quick. His return seemed but a fleeting moment - a heartbeat, and you were having to let him go again. The thing that stopped you from letting this be anything more than it was. But you were kidding yourself. You were in a relationship. The code; the unwritten rule, the exclusivity of it. There'd never been anyone else. Neither of you were calling it that, though. Neither of you referred to each other as ‘Partners', or ever enquired if it would be like that again. Everything but in name. Yet you would continue to tell yourself this was for the best - and that you wouldn't hurt for a little while as he sailed off into the distance.

Everyone around you on the dock was moving fast, getting final-final preparations done before they set sail. For the two of you, time was virtually standing still. Your hands were in his, and right now all you wanted was for them to stay there as long as possible. As tradition stated, you both had one more try in you - one more line of persuasion before the same conclusion would be reached, and you went your separate ways once again. Bogard leaned into you. That small near smile on his lips that reflected so much more brilliantly in his eyes. And in that moment the light was hitting them just right; illuminating that brown colour in a million beautiful shades. His voice was soft and sweet - as if this time he was really pulling out all the stops. "You should come with us.” he said. “We could always use a doctor." You chuckled, shaking your head. But you were grinning. You couldn't help but smile brilliantly at the way he was making you feel. Of course he was still trying to get you to go with him, despite already knowing your answer. You had to admire that spirit – every single time. "My place is here." You said firmly. You bit your tongue between your teeth cheekily for a moment, before teasing back with. "You could always stay." It was Bogard's turn to chuckle. "You know I can't do that." Your head tilted. 'Exactly'.

But he kept leaning, and you weren’t about to stop him. Now might have been the time to be professional. But it was also the exact time to be unprofessional. You pushed yourself up to meet him in a goodbye kiss. Both of you probably expected it to be short and sweet, but then again neither of you were pulling away - content to stay in it. You couldn't take it anymore, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. He reciprocated, hands on your waist pulling you into his arms. At some point someone whistled. You felt him laugh, but he didn't pull back – Bogard just kept kissing you. Not even with the thought in his head that he was doing this in public. A little harder, edge a little more possessive of you. There was something in this kiss meant to completely destroy the idea that there was, or ever would be, anyone else, ever. Even when you were merely joking about it, even when he was too. You surrendered to it, and to him, completely.

Back on the ship, Helmeppo has spotted what was happening on the docks below. And if he was surprised by the kiss in the first place, the fact that it was going on - the stoic second in command swordsman that Bogard was? The guy who wore a perpetual frown most of the time! This wasn't happening - in fact it was beyond being seen to be believed! It was a ‘pinch me I must be dreaming’ moment. He smacked Coby - who was only oblivious because he was working - perhaps a little too hard. But he didn't care, and threw his other hand just to check that he wasn't the only one seeing this! The smaller cadet also couldn't help but stop and stare, almost gaping.

Garp watched the scene with a shake of his head, and a laugh. Sometimes it was good to be right!

Eventually you both had to pull back, if for nothing but a need to breathe. But you kept close. Your fingers gripped his Marine coat tight as you held him close to you. His head dipped to yours. Bogard kept his arms wrapped around you. You closed your eyes and tried your best to hold back your tears. "Stay safe." You whispered, emotion flooding your voice. "I don’t want to see you back here anything less than immaculate.” “Stay safe too." His voice was equally emotional, strained against the proper tone he was trying to emulate. "Don’t take any shit.” You pulled slightly back from him, laughing. “You come back to me.” "You know where we're going. I can't make any promises. But…" He relinquished your warmth none too fast, reassuring you. "I always do."

You stood for a moment like that, unsure where to go from here. You couldn't help it, pulling him back for one more kiss goodbye - and much shorter, to your own dismay. Before drawing your hands to the centre of his chest, fussing with his Marine coat for a second, and making certain to pull it straight, ensuring that the emblem presented itself dead centre. If you were going to tell him to be immaculate when he returned, you damn well weren’t sending him away if he was anything less! "You tell those other girls..." You laughed, unable to finish the joke. "Tell them what?" "They c- can't have—y-!” You kept laughing through it. “I can't even finish that thought." You grinned, putting it another way instead. "You're mine." He shook his head at you. "Always was." Before bowing low, "Until next time, Y/N." Bogard left you with a smile, and with that, began walking a few feet to the ship’s gangplank. You called after him, "I'm already looking forward to that letter!" He nearly laughed.

Upon boarding, Helmeppo and Coby still hadn't got over the scene. Staring at him almost in awe - definitely with a million questions for the man helping to train them. It took just one look, a single stare to swear both of them to eternal silence. Maybe they would get their answers one day. Maybe he would want to talk about it. Right now, Bogard wasn't sure. He did know he considered it private, no matter how passionate and public his goodbye was to you.

You stood back, listened to him shouting commands to get the ship running with a smile on your face. Just like that he was in his element again. He was working now. He was the second in command to a Vice Admiral. 'That's my man.' For a moment, you wondered if you should have asked. You’d still never had a concrete conversation around being officially together again. You supposed it was as unsaid as the exclusivity. The illusion that you would both still be single; until the time you met again. But what was more official than 'Always was.'?

Whatever you were, you were content.

As the ship pushed away from the dock, Bogard appeared at the starboard side railing, offering a hand up gesture as a wave goodbye. You waved back enthusiastically. Glad to see him one last time before he sailed into the sunset. And here you would be the next time he was able to visit you. Because you would wait for him. And maybe one day, you’d give in to him. Or he would settle down with you.

Whoever’s will won out in the end, right now you knew one thing for sure. You didn't care if it meant you were together.

---

Two swordsmen down one to go! 🖤💚💛

Other OPLA Fics: 'Late to the Party - Roronoa Zoro x Reader

[madnessr]

Reunited Preview

Summary: 300 years had passed since 1725, where three vampires had lost the only thing that mattered to them. Now in the year 2025, they are reunited with the one person they cannot lose again.

A poly Lestat, Louis, and Armand x Reader relationship

Preview Warnings: None

Reunited Masterlist

For your scheduled hour, you did nothing but play and enjoy. Playing Tchaikovsky's The Nutcracker, Waltz of The Flowers; to Saint-Saëns The Carnival of The Animals. You played it all, a gentle smile tugging at your lips whenever a note hit so beautifully. Sending shivers down your arms and goosebumps, you never failed to get when music was played. 

You hadn't changed one bit. 

Perhaps you would've grown shy while performing if you knew, but this moment had no significant meaning to you. You're just doing your job, simple as that. But what meant so little to you made dead hearts begin to leap again. What it meant for them to see you again, thriving, living, and mortal. Three-hundred unforgiving and torturous years did they spend without you. They spent years getting over your death, and while getting over you wasn't ever accomplished, continuing to survive was. Although blood lacked its taste, the night air its crispness, and music its charm. You stood there on a small stage. Single-handedly providing their miserable lives with color again. With meaning. All they've long forgotten what it meant to be, or instead feel human again, this was the closest they'll ever get to being so vulnerable. 

Lestat, although having been the most stubborn about accepting your death, was now struggling the most to understand that you were, in fact, alive. Right in front of him, so reachable, so obtainable. But he didn't dare move, frozen in his chair as he watched you. He had dreamed of you every cursed second you were apart, and some part of him didn't want to accept this as reality. Countless nights did he awake in his coffin, arms that had been around you in his dreams now empty. He never minded how cold his skin felt, but nothing was more challenging than the loneliness you left behind. His grief denied him this moment, compared to Louis, who felt nothing but joy; he just couldn't, unlike Armand, who shared the same happiness and disbelief as Louis. 

He was certain you weren't really there. 

To wake up alone after this moment once more, after something that felt so real. So Lestat stayed where he was, silently grieving the only sun in his life that didn't hurt, and enjoyed the sight of you in front of him, alive once more. 

But before you knew it, and any of them wanted to accept, your time was up, and a young pianist came to take your place. You bowed, unaware of the three men who had watched your entire performance with bated breaths. 

As you left the scene. One thing was understood between the three of them; the world wasn't the same without you. They had been given one thing they never had themselves, a second chance. One thing was for sure, they won't lose you again.  

[chrism02]

Hi Chris. Would be able to write something for Armand Gamache? Maybe the reader is part of the Morrow family, but she’s always one keeping the peace. She also helps the staff at the hotel and asked to be kept out of the will. And Gamache notices and they end up dating?

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@imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky

[nightqueen1221]

So, today I got a bit of an interesting book by the name, "Interview with the Vampire" and was wondering...

My mom said she's pretty sure she has "The Vampire Lestat" and she'll give it to me once I finish the interview, don't know if that would bring anymore characters into requests tho. (I'm only going to do the books and movie, none of the TV show)

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

Tags: @illiana-mystery, @iobsessoverfictionalmen, @freddiefredfive, @verysmolnerd, @writingkitten

Warnings: smut, threesome, blowjob, swearing, good guy/bad guy routine, talk of a hit

AN: Thank you to @illiana-mystery for fixing up the picture of Marcus. This should be fun to write. Story under the cut.

How I ended up in this situation was beyond me. I hadn't done anything to anyone. At least not that I knew of. Armand paced the room as he made a few calls, glancing at me every few seconds. Whatever was being said on the other end wasn't what he wanted to hear. I bit my lip and played with the hem of my shirt. Armand's hand on my arm made me jump.

"Sorry." He smiled softly at me. "There has been no sign of the man that you described. Perhaps he left?" I shook my head.

"Armand, you saw the note with your own eyes. Why would someone send that to me if they were just going to disappear?" I pleaded. Armand nodded and reached for my hand. I held onto it like a life line. "Mon cher, je suis terrifé." I looked over at him, tears threatening to spill over. Armand leaned forward and kissed my forehead.

"Je sais. Je sais." he whispered. I leaned against him as the past week's events and feelings caught up to me. "I won't let anything happen to you. They are putting you into protection. I volunteered. We're going out to Three Pines. Completely off the radar. If this guy wants to come for you, we'll be prepared." I pulled back to look at him.

"Will it be safe Armand?" My stomach churned at the thought of putting any of the villagers in danger.

"We aren't going to stay in the village. There's a little cabin we can use." He seemed to read my mind. "Nous serons en sécurité. Je promets." I nodded and wiped my eyes.

"When do we leave?" I asked, standing up and looking through the two way mirror on the far way. I couldn't see anything except Armand's reflection but it was reassuring that it was there.

"We can leave now." Armand looked at his phone one last time before walking over to where I was. He put a hand on my back and led me out of the room. "We are taking an unmarked car with an escort. We won't be stopping at either of our houses." I looked over my shoulder at him. "There will be clothes and food there for the two of us. Enough for a few days. One of the detail will go out if we need anything else. The illusion will be a couples' retreat." I blushed but nodded. "Maybe we can finally have that talk we've been meaning to." He whispered as he helped me into my coat. Turning around to collect my gloves from him, I nodded. The look of hope in his eyes didn't escape my notice nor the way that his hand was on my back the first chance he got.

We found the car we were supposed to be in and I climbed in after Armand. He looked a little nervous to find he wasn't driving us but quickly squeezed my hand to dispel any concerns. With a tight smile, Armand gave the go ahead to start the drive out to the idealistic village just outside Montreal. The ride was silent aside from the faint French mutterings of Armand. Periodically, I would tear my gaze away from the window to look at him questioningly. When he caught me, Armand would give me a smile and a shake of the head before squeezing my hand again. It was nightfall by the time we reached the cabin and I was ready to climb into bed. Armand helped me climb out of the car and into the cabin. Standing in the center of the living room, I waited while the security detail checked the cabin and Armand set about checking for the necessities.

"Nous sommes bien." He assured me. I nodded at him as he wrapped me up in a hug. I didn't realize I was shaking until he repeated his earlier statement. Relaxing against him, I felt him nod as the other officers let him know it was all clear. "We should get to bed. It's been..." I nodded, knowing what he was going to say.

"D'accord." I agreed as I made my way to the bedroom. "Uh Armand?" I called as I heard him moving about the kitchen.

"Oui?" He called back. When I didn't reply, he made his way to where I was standing. "Oh. Merde." I looked over at Armand and watched as he seemed to go through the five stages of grief in one moment. "Doesn't matter. I'll sleep on the floor." My eyes widened as he turned to go back to the kitchen.

"Armand!" I exclaimed, grabbing his arm. "I can't let you do that." He stared at me as I took in the room again. "Look. The bed is big enough. We can share it." Armand nodded slowly and I laughed. "I'm sure Armand. Besides," I moved a little closer to him. "I think having you closer would make me feel safer." He raised an eyebrow at me but I shook my head. "I'm serious. It's not a line. I would feel safer." I squeezed his arm to make my point and Armand nodded, patting my hand.

"Alright. Give me a few minutes. I just want to see what there is to eat here." I nodded and followed him to the kitchen. I sat on the counter while he ran an inventory of what we had been stocked with. Nodding to himself, he helped me down and followed me back to the bedroom. "Would you like to shower?" Armand asked, pulling out what must have been normal sleepwear for him. I shook my head and dug through a different dresser looking for a shirt and pajama pants. Armand nodded and headed into the bathroom. I found pajama pants and changed into those before digging back in to find a shirt. There was a quiet knock and I saw Armand's arm sticking out from the door to the bathroom. He held the shirt he had been wearing under his dress shirt. Smiling to myself, I took it.

"Merci." I called to him. There was a hum and then the shower turned on. Climbing into the bed, I looked around the room to see if there were any easy entry points. The only one I could see was the window but it would be on Armand's side. As much as I hated it, it meant that Armand would know the second someone tried to get in. Nerves bit into my mind and I got up to double check the door. I grabbed the poker from the fireplace and carefully made my way to the door just as Armand was coming out of the bathroom. "Just checking the door." I muttered. He nodded and checked his phone one last time.

I made my way through the living area to the door. Checking it, I froze. It was unlocked. A small crash made me jump and turn around. Standing in the hallway was a man with his gun drawn. It was pointed at me.

"Oh fuck!" I yelled, hoping Armand would hear me. The man in front of me slowly crept forward and I stood frozen to the spot. "ARMAND! J'ai bensoin d'aide! MAINTENANT!" I heard a gun click and hoped that it was Armand's and not the man in front of me. My grip on the fire poker slipped and I nearly dropped it. Armand appeared behind the man and I nearly sagged in relief when he pressed his gun against the man's head.

"Drop it. Now." Taking a deep breath, I watched as the man lowered his gun. This time I did sag in relief as Armand was able to grab the gun. "Pas toi, (Y/N). Gardez le poker en l'air." I nodded and readjusted my grip on the weapon I was holding.

"You two make a good team." The man said. He leered at me as Armand handcuffed him. He was pushed into a chair and Armand stood above him.

"What's your name?" He growled. The man just laughed at him.

"What? No phone call? Or do I have to ask for my lawyer in order to do that?" Armand looked like he was going to slap the man.

"Les menottes Armand." I reminded him quietly. Armand looked at me. I was chewing on my lip, keeping my distance from the man in the chair. Armand sighed and nodded.

"Your name." He ground out, returning his attention to the man in the chair.

"Marcus." He responded, eyeing the two of us curiously. "The people I work for want them dead." Marcus nodded at me. "Something about crossing the wrong people. I'm not really sure. I don't ask questions about my mark." Armand threw a glance at me and nodded.

"So you admit you were trying to kill (Y/N) (Y/L/N)." Marcus nodded and shrugged as best he could.

"Easy money honestly. I didn't expect you to put up much of a fight though." The last part was directed at me and I hid behind Armand a little more. "What did you do anyway? Pretty little thing like you. Involved with the chief inspector. Wouldn't expect someone to take a hit out on you." Armand reached behind him and put a hand on my hip. "Doesn't matter. Someone else will come once they realize I was caught." I stared at the back of Armand's head and took a step closer to him. "Or..." Marcus trailed off, staring just over Armand's shoulder.

"Or?" He prompted. Armand squeezed my hip and I took another step closer to him. Marcus laughed and shook his head. "Or?"

"How about the three of us have a little fun?" Marcus caught my eye and smiled at me. "Seems like the two of you have something going on already. You let me in on it and I let you walk. Go back to who hired me and say I completed the job. You get to stay out here, hiding away but alive." Armand stiffened and glanced at me over his shoulder. "The other option is I shoot both of you and make it look like an accident. Or maybe something that happened on purpose." I could see Armand's shoulders tense up and wished I could do something about it. I tightened my grip on the poker as Marcus's words sunk in.

"I agree." I stepped out from behind Armand and made eye contact with Marcus. "But I want assurance that we can walk after this. And that Armand can go back to the force." Marcus shook his head.

"Like I said. Seems like you two have something going on. I'm not the only one who knows that. The people that sent me already know that the two of you came up here together. That little detail outside is dead. If you two don't come out, they will never know the difference between you being dead or alive. And once I get back and give them word, you can live out here the rest of your days." I looked over at Armand. In my mind, a lifetime with him didn't sound like that bad an idea. But this wasn't just about me.

"(Y/N), es-tu sûr?" Armand kept an eye on Marcus but turned towards me. There was something shining in his eyes that I couldn't put a name to. "Nous devrions rester ici mais..."

"Nous serions vivants." I finished. Armand nodded. I smiled at him. "Je suis sûr. C'est ce que je veux Armand." Armand nodded in agreement and set about taking the handcuffs off Marcus.

“Ground rules. We go one at a time.” Armand’s voice shook as he talked, leading me back to the bedroom. “(Y/N) is in control the whole time. Whatever they say goes. They say stop, you stop.” I pulled my pajama pants off and laid down on the bed. Marcus and Armand were staring at each other, engaged in some sort of pissing contest where they sized each other up.

“Armand, you first.” My voice shook as I pointedly held my hand out to him. Armand nodded and shed his clothes as he closed the short distance. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Marcus do the same before settling into the chair by the fireplace. “Make it easy.” I whispered at him as he hovered over me. Nodding, Armand leaned down to kiss me. It was the first one that held meaning and promise.

“I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of my life here with you by the way.” He whispered as he pulled away. I smiled at him and wrapped my arms around him. Armand's hand drifted down until he was able to push past the waistband on my underwear. His eyebrows furrowed when he noticed how turned on I was. Groaning, I arched up into him. His stomach brushed against mine at the movement and I let out a shuddering gasp. Armand kissed along my neck and jaw before pulling his hand away. I whined before he pulled my underwear down. "Es-tu prêt?" I looked down to realize that he had also pulled his own off. My eyes widened at the sight of him but I nodded anyway.

"Oui Armand." I gave him verbal consent. Armand took himself in hand and gently started to push in. I met his gaze as he stilled for a moment before continuing to enter me. When he bottomed out, I was as full as I had ever been. Armand leaned down and gave me a kiss.

"ça va mon amour?" he murmured. I nodded and tilted my hips up. Pressing a kiss to my cheek, Armand slowly pulled out before slamming his hips into mine. I cried out and tightened my grip around him. Armand set the pace, making sure that I would reach my end quickly. "The quicker we finish, the quicker he finishes." He muttered above me. My chuckle broke off into a moan as Armand lifted my hips up, hitting new spots that made me see stars. "Then we can do this as many times as you want." I moaned in approval as Armand smiled down at me. Tilting my head, I locked eyes with Marcus. He was stroking himself to the sight before him and my mind short circuited. Marcus smirked at me before getting up quickly.

"Move." He shoved Armand's arm. Armand stilled and stared at him.

"One at a time. We agreed." Armand growled. Marcus laughed.

"Fuck that." He said as he grabbed my arms and forced Armand and me to turn so my head was hanging off the bed. My eyes widened when I came face to face with his dick. "Sucking is as good as fucking. So get to work." Marcus tapped my cheek and settled into position. Hesitantly, I opened my mouth and let him push in. I gagged as he started to thrust but quickly adjusted.

As Marcus found his own independent rhythm, I moaned as Armand returned to his. Marcus hummed above me and I started to slowly lick along his length. It was long before I felt him twitch in my mouth. I hummed as Armand picked up his speed. I gave up all hope of continuing to blow Marcus and just settled for moaning around his length. My scream was muffled as I came. Marcus moaned above me and Armand pressed kisses along my chest. Both men came at the same time with a grunt. Swallowing down what Marcus had, I hummed contently as they pulled out. Armand was quick to check me over and make sure I was alright. Marcus picked up his jacket and drapped it over my shoulders as Armand went to find a heavier blanket.

"Maybe I’ll come back up here for that.” He said with a wink. “Little something else too. What do you say?” I nodded numbly and watched as he left the room. There were hushed voices in the hallway before Armand came back in with the blanket.

“he’s gone.” Armand mumbled as he threw the jacket to the ground before wrapping me up. “I’m sorry.” Pressing a kiss to my forehead, Armand settled in next to me. I curled against him for the warmth.

“I guess we don’t need to have that talk anymore huh?” I teased as I tilted his head towards me. Armand chuckled before shaking his head.

“no. I guess we don’t.” He whispered before pressing his lips firmly to mine.

Translations:

Mon cher, je suis terrifé. - my dear, i'm terrified. Je sais - I know Nous serons en sécurité. Je promets - We will be safe. I promise. Nous sommes bien - we are good D'accord - ok Oui -yes Merde - shit Merci - thank you J'ai besoin d'aide - I need help Maintenant -now Pas toi - not you Gardez le poker en l'air. -keep the poker in the air Les menottes - the handcuffs es-tu sûr - are you sure? nous devrions rester ici mais - we would have to stay here but nous serions vivants - we would be alive Je suis sûr. C'est ce que je veux - I'm sure. This is what I want. es-tu prêt?- are you ready? ça va mon amour? - are you okay my love?

[nakiaslilhoodoo]

Hey.

Please reblog.

[st-armand]

Plug!Hobie x Fem!Reader Part 1

( Reposted from @armands-sanctum ) Authors Note: All fanfictions I make for Hobie are in the worldbuilding of him living in New London, a re-colonized NYC by British V.E.N.O.M. operatives. This is more like a vomit of words then a headcanon but all of my headcanons are like that. Might make the move to AO3 if I keep getting banned

CW: Weed smoking, suggestive imagery, detailed descriptions of a specific body types, fem!reader, terrible black british slang, not beta read

Word Count: 1.5k

Masterlist • Part 2

Plug!Hobie who you meet on a particularly sweltering day, relaxing with a group of alternatives smoking outside—your sweet perfumes and oils blending in with the droplets sweat that bead on your skin.You’re frustrated with work/school/life and all you need is a quick high, a joint, especially after going about your day smelling other people smoke, now you’re craving it bad, so bad in fact you lose all inhibitions towards going up to strangers and asking them to sell you drugs.

He's done up in dreadfully low waisted, tight black jeans—ripped and littered with patches, that compliment his long-limbed body, intricate belts that you know have to be a pain in the ass to take off when peeing, and a cropped band tee ‘Black Liver’— on summer days like this Hobie would exclaim, “ T’ hot to be all done up” opting for the easiest outfits, like a Nike tech-wear, or a pair of adidas sweats that you gifted him, since you despise the look of Nike clothing, he chided on you about buying from corporative fast fashion, you retort, “Hobie you KNOW I only thrift things, please don’t start that now.”

Upon that first conversation, or even the moment his eyes caught onto your figure, he’d fallen, well…into lust, head first, dead upon impact.Hobie is attractive, interacts with other hot people, but he can’t help but be particularly fascinated with your figure—from your equally as low waisted and tight jeans, so tight they fit like a second skin on your legs, a sliver of your midriff exposed from the cut of your top giving him unlimited access to the slopes of your stomach, and the natural arch in your back begging to be gripped, or the way your bra makes your shirt look exceptionally tight around your breasts, every step in your stride causes a ripple to glide through the supple flesh, and the best for last his favorite part of you, your ass, so large it’s almost disproportionate to your body shape, but your thighs constricted by the denim makes it fathomable you have an ass that large.

But your face makes your body look like a present wrapped in luxurious foils, with an intricate bow on top.

Now it’s uncomfortable for him to wear those skinny jeans.

Hobie watches you intently as you saunter your way through other pedestrians, fixated on a single goal, he thinks youre coming up to chat them up maybe giving him the chance to get your contacts, until he follows your line of sight—oh youre looking at his joint…

“Bro! You got any to spare? I need a joint so fucking bad, I have cash so I’ll happily buy some off you.”

He’s slightly put off by your ice breaker, “Why? You a pig?”

Now you’re fucking pissed, after a long arduous day, when you want the most is to smoke a flat blunt, and this beanstalk, bastard is calling you an opp.

“Get your head out of your ass, or ill do it for you.” You bite backThe group tenses, waiting for Hobie to speak—who cooly replies,

“ leng ting ‘ot a mouth on her,”

he LAUGHS boisterously in fact—his chest heaves and he slinks into himself with just how fucking hilarious he thinks this situation must be, you want weed and you want to go home.

“Got a lot t’ spare, actually, but I ‘otta go back t’ my flat.” Hobie drawls his replies, languidly letting the words slip through his tongue, slurred from the high, lean frame against the stoop of the store their loitering about, he gazes down at you to gauge your reaction.

“I ain’t going to back to your ‘flat’, so let’s compromise. How much can I get for $120, and a few containers of food?”

Hobie quirks a single pierced eyebrow, the sterling metals on his face reflecting the light, even under the shade making it hard to even focus on his face for too long—that and how attractive he is, it breaks your own mask of intimidation (He’ll break it more once you start developing a relationship with each other).

“ ‘pends on how good the food is luv.”

Hobie’s had a few people offer food in exchange for weed, so you’ve already gotten him with your proposition, even if you rejected the insinuation that he wanted you to come with him back to his place.Other people love to use favors of other kinds which he rejects, he’s finds it completely unnecessary, but he is still kind, a community-oriented person he doesn’t mind giving people weed for free.

But he DOES enjoy getting gifts from his peers for weed; trinkets, porcelain dolls, customized instruments, accessories, and clothing that they tailor for him—forcing him into their studios to get to measurements right, and letting Hobie customizing the clothing to the way he desires, with no interjections or complaints even. All these things are decorated precisely around his place, he might not clean the mess in his apartment but he will ALWAYS make sure these things are safe, and dust-free.

“It’s pretty damn good! Alright lemme get your number, I’ll tell you where we meet.” During the conversation you contemplated the best course of action, do you go to his apartment—no. Let him drop off at your place? You’d rather eat glass then let a strange man have your address. But you want weed so meeting around the corner can’t be the worst choice.

Hobie wastes no time whipping his phone out of his back pocket, you exchange contact information, and with nothing but a curt nod, walking away from the draining social interaction, before a firm, slightly sweaty, ringed hand on your shoulder, whipping your body around, you watch a slow impish smirk grace his facial features.

“See ya’ later ‘orgeous.”

You retained a deadpanned expression, but your mind races and it isn’t from the secondhand high your getting from being around them. Weak kneed but you don’t falter in your perfectly constructed veneer, this is why you stay 10 feet away from attractive men.

The conversation is over now, at least to you, you give him a thumbs up, but Hobie persists even knowing he will be seeing you later, and he has patrol immediately afterwards.

“Want a joint for the road? ‘s on me luv”

Now this perks you up exponentially, and you invade his space like a cat yearning for its meal early in the morning.He’s reeling from the closeness—inebriated from the sweet smell of your body oil, and the crisp red rose perfume you wear, even the smell of the sweat gathering on your skin has him shaky

(I also headcanon him as a huge pervert, im talking panty thief levels. If yall vote on it will be graciously provided.)

Try his bet to focus on letting his lithe fingers play the edges of the paper like he would his guitar, meticulously stuffing the herb into the folded valley of the parchment, before joining the ends together with quick reels.

Hobie places the semi wrapped joint in front of your lips, glancing down at you with an expectant look, your brows furrow, not entirely too sure what he’s gesturing you to do.

“Mind sealin’ it f’ me? Your joint after all”

You wordlessly comply, letting your tongue tease the laminated edge of the parchment activating the adhesive, your eyes wander to his for approval an ‘Is this good enough?’ kind.

But for Hobie the vision of your tinted eyes, and the moist muscled appendage carefully coating the sealant edge has his cock twitching in his jeans.

He tightened it into a cone-like shape, before twisting the end closed, lightly shaking the tip to stuff the herb down farther, then passing it into your hands.

With that you exit, giving a coy wave in their direction and a mischievous “See ya later.”

Comments, Concerns?? Im still looking for beta readers so message me if you're interested. Pushing this out for traction since my other blog got shadow-banned.