#i already wrote a vampire thing this year so it's fine

[allsassnoclass]

hello, Hazel!

how about "let's go out for a cheap dinner" ft. mashton for the prompts?<3

hi ana! thanks for requesting!

mashton: "Let's go out for a cheap dinner"

Michael covers his face with his hands and groans, as loud as he can. It echoes slightly in the empty theater, or maybe he just thinks it does because his hands are creating an echo chamber, but either way it's equally as satisfying as it isn't.

"Mood," Luke says. Michael turns his head to look at him, sitting in the second row of the audience with his feet propped up on the chair in front of him, Sierra nodding sagely beside him. It looks like an uncomfortable position for someone of his size, but laying on his back on the hard, disgusting wooden stage isn't as comfortable for Michael as it could be, so he's not going to say anything.

"They should've done Beauty and the Beast," Calum repeats for the fiftieth time since they all began working on this production nearly two months ago.

"Or Shrek. Or Spongebob. Or Sound of Music. Or literally any other family-friendly musical besides fucking Mary Poppins," Michael agrees, just like he has every other time.

When he applied for the job to direct Mary Poppins at a community theater this summer, it had seemed like a good idea. Being partially-funded through Community Education, he was told that they would have full access to the theater, scene shop, and costume shop at the high school, as well as some additional rehearsal spaces there. The board of directors seemed really excited to dive into a family show after producing some more mature musicals in the previous years, and he got to hire the production staff, meaning he could ensure that he works with his friends this summer. He knew that Mary Poppins is a difficult show from basically every standpoint: the music is complex, the dance numbers are big, there's an inconvenient amount of settings, and Mary Poppins does magic at about 12 different points in the script, including flying across the stage. Still, Michael had been optimistic.

Michael had been a fucking idiot.

This has been, to put it plainly, the most frustrating directing experience Michael has ever had. The theater was a new build from five years ago, but apparently the blueprints have since been lost and no one at the school knows the measurements of the space. He keeps trying to negotiate with different flight companies so they can rent equipment, hire a trainer, and have Mary actually fly across the stage, but most of them are appalled at the quick turnaround and all of them need some sort of measurement of the space, not to mention that Michael has to wait for permission from Community Education before he can solidify a deal. Every time he thinks they have it, the school finds some sort of issue that takes him three days to smooth over, at which point they find another one, then later another one.

Administration doesn't seem to understand anything about urgency, because the production staff didn't get their contracts until a month after rehearsals began, so now everyone is scrambling to get things done, and they still don't know what the set will look like because they don't know if Mary will be flying or if they have to find some other way to imply that she is.

That doesn't even scratch the surface. The stage has dried gum on it but the custodians won't let them mop, let alone paint the stage so it actually looks nice and fresh instead of ugly and chipped. They don't have keys to the catwalk. They only just got keys to the booth tonight, and Matt and Roy spent all rehearsal up there trying to figure out how the sound and lights are set up, because it doesn't follow logic. The electrics aren't weighted, which could kill someone, but the weight station is a floor above and the door is padlocked. Michael has already requested a key, but he requested a key to the catwalk two months ago and still doesn't have it.

There's no dressing rooms, no backstage space, and no hallway behind the stage to cross from one side to the other unseen. Michael figures all of those are problems for tech week, but tech week is very quickly approaching, which is why Michael is currently laying on the stage having a mental breakdown two hours after rehearsal ended.

His phone buzzes. He checks it, exhaling when he sees who is texting him.

"Can someone let Ashton in?" he requests.

Someone, probably Roy, heaves a sigh and gets up. Michael stares up at the electrics and wonders if he can sue the school if one of the lights falls and lands on him.

"Well, this is pitiful," Ashton says a few moments later. Michael holds up his middle finger. Ashton probably looks lovely, even for this late at night, and looking at him will probably make Michael feel incrementally better, but he's decided to let himself wallow and therefore refuses to so much as glance at him.

"Come on, what was your win of the day?" Ashton asks. He started asking this after the second week, when Michael came home and told him that every day with this production feels like getting one win, then fifteen losses. The win is usually that the actors have learned something new. The losses are typically everything else.

"We got access to the booth," Matt offers. "Nothing in there is set up, but we have access, so Roy and I can actually start our jobs."

Michael gives a thumbs up.

"Hey, that's great! Is there anything else that you need to solve here tonight, or can I take your fearless leader home?"

Michael holds up his middle finger again. There's a beat of silence, then Calum's voice, holding all of the authority he needs as a stage manager.

"There's nothing else we can do tonight. Let's all go home."

Michael listens to everyone gather their things and put the theater back to some semblance of order. Something blocks the lights overhead, and Michael squints until the silhouette solidifies into Ashton, looking down at him. He really looks good, even when Michael is looking at him from the most unfortunate angle. He's wearing a bandana to keep his curls contained, something which he started doing again this summer, and his shirt is sleeveless, giving Michael a fantastic view of his arms. Michael really likes those arms.

Ashton holds out a hand. Michael drags a sigh up from the depths of his soul and takes it.

"What do you want to eat?" Ashton asks as he's hauling him up and Michael is doing his best imitation of a rag doll.

"We have no food at home. I do not want peanut butter and jelly."

"Let's go out for a cheap dinner," Ashton suggests. Michael rolls his eyes and slumps against him.

"I do not want McDonald's for the third time this week, and there's no where else near us open this late."

"I was researching and found a 24/7 diner about half an hour away. That'll give you enough time to vent and relax, and you'll probably get to sleep just as early as you would if we went home and you watched Netflix."

Michael considers, enjoying the feeling of Ashton's arm around him, supporting his weight. Ashton is always a fantastic combination of solid and soft, which makes him the perfect person to hug.

"I have a playlist ready," Ashton says. "No Mary Poppins on it at all."

"Twist my arm, why don't you," Michael concedes. Ashton ushers him off the stage to gather his backpack, script, and numerous writing utensils that have escaped their case. Calum has already stolen his keys to lock up, and by the time he turns out the lights and the group heads to the parking lot, Michael is feeling marginally more like a functional person.

"Come on, in you go," Ashton says after they call goodbyes to the rest of the staff, holding Michael's door open for him. The show must be taking a noticeable toll on him tonight if Ashton is babying him this much, but Michael is pretty lazy and isn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth right now.

Michael doesn't know what he'd do without Ashton, honestly. Between juggling his day job, rehearsals, production meetings, and all of the administrative bullshit that has unexpectedly come with this show, Michael barely finds time to exist, let alone eat and sleep and drink water. Ashton is the one who ensures that those needs are met, picking him up from production meetings once he deems that they've gone on long enough if Michael doesn't call before then, making meals that will be good reheated when he has time and scoping out places for them to get food when everything else is closed. He offers a patient ear when Michael needs to rant and practical solutions when he can, and Michael is man enough to admit that he would have fallen apart by now without the knowledge that there is someone who is in his corner and who will still love him if the production goes to shit.

"Hey," he says once Ashton starts the engine, his phone already hooked up to the car and an acoustic pop punk song beginning to play over the speakers. "I love you."

Ashton smiles at him, reaching out and tucking a lock of Michael's hair back, letting his fingers trail down Michael's cheek after. Michael closes his eyes, savoring the sensation.

"I love you, too," Ashton says warmly. "Now let's get some food in you. You can tell me all about the school's latest bullshit on the way there."

Michael sighs and presses back against his seat, looking out the window at the dark. quiet town around them. He starts talking, and Ashton listens attentively the entire time, even when Michael can tell from his clenched jaw and furrowed brow that he's angry on his behalf. Once Michael has gotten it all out of his system, he lets Ashton distract him with talk about his own day over a plate of pancakes and some bacon.

With Ashton's ankle hooked around his under the table, it's the most relaxed Michael has felt all day.

"Thank you," Michael says before they pay the bill. He means it for more than just the food, Ashton understands. He always does.

"I love you," Ashton says in reply, like it's an explanation.

Michael takes the last bite of his pancakes from the tiny diner that Ashton found to ensure that Michael eats well, and knows with certainty that he can make it through anything with Ashton by his side.

[the-kr8tor]

could i get garlic cloves and a ❣️ for hobie? r is trying to sneak him somewhere as a bat. or maybe sneak him out of animal control or smth? -@thesevenofstaves

YEEESSS MORE VAMP HOBIE!!! I wrote this with IPOB in mind, I hope that's okay! Thank you, bestie 🩷

Pairing: Vampire! Hobie Brown X fem! Reader

Word count: 1.3 k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, Set around my vampire Hobie series (In pursuit of blood), CW blood, mockumentary AU, Wwdits AU, Fluff!

In Pursuit of Blood fic

Katy's one year celebration 🎉

“So yeah, that's how I found out that my great aunt was a succubus—” you stop talking suddenly, blinking, eyes roaming around the walls of Hobie's mansion. The camera crew follows you as you look under the couch and even peek inside the grand piano. “Do you guys fucking hear that?”

The camera shakes its head. You look at it weirdly, “you could just say no, Jason, like a normal person—” you gasp, “there it is again!” You frantically move books from the bookshelves, making the crew dodge oncoming hardbounds. “Is this a prank? Am I getting punk’d right now?!” You scream, footsteps heavy as you trudge along the big living room, tossing and turning things around. “Hobie! Where the fuck did you put the speakers you mythical bloodsucking straw!”

You suddenly straighten up, finger scratching your ear, eyes turning from confusion to amusement. “Oh you fucking idiot!” You guffaw, palm slapping your knees in laughter. The crew look at each other, not knowing what to do when their subject turns cuckoo. “Okay, I'll—” you breathe for air, tears in your eyes as you laugh. “I'll save you, you big ancient baby.” Nodding, you roll your eyes, “fine, I'll be subtle. No explosions, yep…wait not even a little? I bought this new thing from amazon— yeah okay, bye! Close the fucking link I don't want you in my brain!”

Your shoulders sag, smiling at the befuddled camera crew. “Good news I'm not crazy! That was Hobie talking to me telepathically and he— you know what, I should just show you what he wants.” You beckon them over to the front door while you put on your jacket and take your keys. “It's called the mind gift,” based on the producer's eyes, you already know that she was about to ask you the question. “You get old enough, you start getting different abilities. Don't ask me how, that's just the way it is with vampires.”

The camera hard cuts to you driving in your new kia. In the corner of the shot you can see the camera man's hand gripping tightly around his seatbelt as you drive recklessly, like you just learned how to drive yesterday. Or you just knew what a car is.

“Relax,” you say, smiling sweetly at the camera even though you pass a red light. “No one's even on the road this late at night. So calm down.”

Hobie's voice once again appears in your mind, ‘hurry up, love, I think this chihuahua next to my cage wants me. And it's not the hunger type of want.’ You snort at his comment. ‘Please? I'll make it worth your while.’ he says with flirty undertones, making you roll your eyes, cheeks warm.

The camera visibly shakes. The mic picks up a faint ‘I’m gonna die.’ The crew following behind you with their own van can barely keep up with you. They pity Jason right now.

“Okay, listen.” You start, the car is zooming past the road beyond the speed limit. “Hobie wanted to hunt some poor rich sap but,” there's rapid honking around you, “something happened, he wouldn't tell me exactly what, so he had to get out quickly and turn into his vampire form. Now animal control caught him at the park because he was too hungry to return to his form.” The car suddenly screeches to a halt, making Jason the camera man almost fly off his seat.

You park your car at an animal control center, the camera zooms in your determined face. “Operation: save my idiot vampire roommate has begun.” Your head quickly swivels towards Jason who seems like all the colour on his face has gone. “Don't fuck this up for us, Jason.” You point at his still chest.

You exit your car with the slam of the door. The rest of the crew follow closely behind you as you enter the animal control center with an uncanny smile that has the front desk worker perturbed.

“Hi, this might sound weird—”

“What's up with the camera crew, lady?” The man asks, blinking away the bright lights, weirded out by the whole situation.

“Oh, we're making a documentary.”

“About what?” The man brightens up, subtly fixing his hair with his hand.

“Uh…” you look at the crew for answers, they're not helping with their empty looks. “...About bats, yeah, bats. We're from national geographic actually.” You hear Hobie in your head ‘national geographic? Really, love? You don't look like the Steve Irwin type. Although, you'd look good in some khaki shorts.’ Blinking him away, you continue to convince the man. “And one of our bats escaped from their enclosure. You see that man over there?” Raising your finger to point at Jason, you accuse him as he stands there awkwardly. “His name is Hobie,” Hobie's laughter in your mind echoes. “And he's an idiot y’know, he's a nephew of our director so we just had to take him in. You get me?”

The man in the front desk nods, judging ‘Hobie.’ “Yeah, I know the type.” He whispers to you. “We have someone like him here too.”

You nod in understanding. “They're not the brightest, right?” Hobie's cackling laughter buries deep in your mind, almost making you laugh too. ‘you're making me have it, huh?’ Jason frowns at you while he zooms in your apologetic face.

Tapping the desk, you smile at the man again. “So! Our bat, please?”

“I'd ask for papers like usual but I'm too lazy.” Now it's you judging the man. “If you can get him from the back yourself without getting rabies then you're free to take him.”

“Yeah, okay.” You shrug, and you hear Hobie breathe a sigh of relief. Opening the doors, you're greeted by a dozen small animals, all angrily calling out to you. “Wow, this reminds me of my cousin's room!”

Your eyes roam over the cages, looking for a familiar bat. The producer points at a bat on your right, she has her hand on the lock but you stop her midway. “That's clearly not him. Good try though.” The bat squeaks, lunging at the cage, almost biting the producer's hand.

Hobie's voice calls out to you, then you see a black bat with large wings rattle its cage. That's Hobie alright. “Aww,” you tease, “is it just me or you look extra adorable right now?”

‘Open the bloody door!’ Hobie telepathically screams at you, continuing to rattle at his cage. Squeaking angrily. You guess that he's starving now that he has tossed being sweet.

“In a minute.” You say, pulling out your phone to take numerous pictures of him. There's selfies of you with the angry bat, and even a group picture of the crew and bat Hobie. With one final click of the camera, you finally open the cage.

Hobie comes flying off towards your face, clinging to you, claws holding on to you and his tiny bat body covering your entire head. ‘Thank you, lovie.’ He says in your mind, his tiny fanged face nuzzling you sweetly. The camera crew takes numerous angles of the whole ordeal. ‘Take me home, ‘m hungry.’

“Will you let go of my face first?” Your voice is muffled by his fuzzy bat body.

‘nah, you're too comfortable.’

“No blood for you then.” You warn, and it works as he reluctantly moves over to your shoulders instead. ‘Fine,’ he grumbles, squeaking disappointedly.

Waving goodbye to the front desk who again stares at you all confused, you have successfully rescued your idiot vampire roommate. Placing him on your passenger seat, he shakes his head when you coax him into turning back to his form.

Jason records from the backseat, eyes flicking from you and the agitated bat. He knows exactly what's about to happen.

“What am I supposed to do? Let you drink from me again?”

There's a bout of silence, and then Hobie the bat nods his tiny head.

With a huff, you give him your hand to bite into. “One sip, Hobie, enough to turn you human.” He nods, mouth opening to take a bite. You look over your shoulder towards the camera. “Cut the fucking camera, Jason.”

Hobie sinks his teeth into you just as the camera shuts off. But not the mic though.

[louisarmands]

The Dark Gift

Summary and Notes:

What happened when Louis left Daniel in the penthouse with Armand. Apologies if this is messy, I wrote it very quickly. Feedback is appreciated. I love these two so much.

Word Count: 1376

 Louis was gone, and Daniel was alone in the penthouse. Alone with Armand. The room suddenly seemed larger, more empty. The stark white walls loomed over him, cold and imposing. A prison. A coffin. A tomb. 

He quickly put out the flames on his laptop with a blanket, the smoke stinging at his eyes. He shoved the smoldering hunk of metal in his bag, eager to get out of there like he had been warned. Louis had threatened Armand and told him not to touch Daniel but Louis was gone now. And what could an old man with Parkinson’s do against a 500-year old vampire? Gathering the last of his things, Daniel turned the corner to the elevator. 

And there was Armand. Covered in dust from the walls cracking from the force of Louis’s anger, his face bruised and bleeding. His brown curls framed his face in a halo. Even battered, he looked like a renaissance painting, a vision of graceful beauty. But for once, he didn’t look composed. He looked… broken. But under the surface, under his glassy amber eyes, there was rage. He was shaking with it. 

Daniel thought he looked small. Almost childish. 

“You know what will happen if you hurt me. You heard Louis. So are you gonna let me leave or what?” Daniel remarked, playing up his usual sarcasm even though his heart was beating out of his chest. And he knew Armand could hear it. 

Armand smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Hurt you? Oh Daniel, I would never do that,” Armand replied, stepping closer to Daniel, a wild look in his eyes.  

“If I wanted to do that I would’ve done it already,” he said, cold and calculating. Armand the snake. Armand the one who hides, the one who sits back and lets things happen. Armand, who was looking at Daniel like he was prey.

“So what, you’re just fine with me ending your 77 year relationship? With me exposing all of your lies?” Daniel scoffed, in disbelief that he wasn’t a melted puddle of bones already. Then again, Armand never was one for action. 

“Was it you who ended it? When I am the one who drives people away again and again? Over and over? When I am the one who lies for self preservation?” He said quietly, his eyes never leaving Daniel’s. He didn’t blink. 

Daniel was shocked at his… self awareness. He didn’t think Armand was capable of that. 

Armand continued. 

“I love them more than they love me, and every time I realize that, I try to hurt them. I take everyone and everything away from them so they only have me. So they rely on me. I give them everything, and it still doesn’t work. It never does,” 

Armand was breathing heavily now, a strange instinct for a vampire with no need for oxygen. His voice was quiet, but he spoke with a sense of mania that made the hair on Daniel’s arm stand up. This was a vampire on the brink of an explosion. 

Armand went on, incensed now. 

“Tell me, Daniel, why do you think I do this to myself? Am I broken beyond repair? Am I worthless?” He hissed, his fangs showing now, his eyes shaking, pupils blown wide. Gone was the angelic, statuesque, mild-mannered companion to Louis. This was a vampire. This was a monster. 

The mask had finally come off. 

Daniel backed away, speechless for once in his life. There was no witty one-liner that would save him now. 

Armand lunged forward and sank his fangs into Daniel’s neck. 

Daniel gasped, the pain like two white hot daggers slicing through him, his vision turning black at the edges. But as soon as there was pain, there was ecstasy. 

Daniel remembered 1973, how Armand had lulled him into a dreamlike state, whispering to Daniel, telling him he would be nothing, and Daniel had succumbed to his powers, floating on the bliss, allowing himself to be slowly drained.

This was nothing like 1973.

This was better than every drug Daniel had ever tried. Every time he had shot up with heroin, multiplied one hundred times. Every time he had been coked out in some dingy basement with god knows who, in screaming color. He could taste the high, he could see it, smell it. He felt like he was hundreds of miles above the penthouse, floating, flying, going the speed of light. 

He didn’t know if it was seconds or minutes or hours later when Armand pulled away. The vampire had Daniel’s blood on him, on his mouth, on his shirt, his neck, glistening crimson on his brown skin. His eyes were fixed on Daniel, a blissful expression reflected in them.

 Daniel thought it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

And then Armand took his nail and sliced his wrist open. 

“Drink,” he ordered, offering it to Daniel. 

Daniel finally spoke, his voice coming out hoarse.

“What? No. What the fuck, Armand?” He protested, reeling from the proposal.

He had thought that perhaps Armand was just desperate to feel anything other than the pain of losing Louis, and in his pain, he fed on Daniel.

He was wrong. Armand wanted to turn him. Armand, who had never made a fledgling. Armand, who was repulsed by the idea.

“Drink,” Armand insisted, backing Daniel against the wall. He held his wrist up to Daniel’s mouth. He was pressed against Daniel, his face an inch away from the other man’s. 

“You wondered how I taste. Now you have a chance to find out,” he breathed, eyes darkening. 

“Dying of a disease that has no cure, and you would turn down immortal life? You would deny yourself that? I can give you what you want. I can give you eternity,” Armand whispered, his eyes flicking down to Daniel’s mouth, his own lips scarlet with Daniel’s blood. 

In the coming days, weeks, and years, Daniel would try and fail to remember why he had done it. Why he had given in and taken the dark gift. In that moment, there was nothing else. There was just him, his body slowly failing him, and Armand, a vengeful Lucifer who had fallen into his path. There was only Armand.

He bit down on the wrist. 

The blood gushed into his mouth, and he balked, the taste at first metallic and unpleasant.

“That’s it, Daniel.” Armand murmured, his other hand reaching out to stroke Daniel’s face. 

And then Daniel’s vision went black. He was still drinking, but it no longer tasted like blood. It tasted rich and sweet and powerful and he couldn’t get enough. 

Images flashed through his mind, images of Armand. Armand as a young boy, running through the streets. Running from something. Armand in a dimly lit room, surrounded by men who leered at him, saying something in a language he didn’t understand. Armand being used, over and over and over again. Armand crying, his body broken and bruised. Armand being turned by Marius. Armand in pain. Armand in Paris, with the coven. Armand with Lestat. Armand with Louis. Armand’s emotions crashed into him like a wave, the churning sea of five hundred years of memories drowning Daniel, making him gasp and choke on it. 

Daniel ripped himself away from Armand’s wrist, sickened by the images he had seen.

Armand stared at him, horrified. Daniel somehow instantly knew Armand was aware of everything his blood had shown Daniel. 

Daniel felt alive. Suddenly all of the aches and pains that came with old age were washed away. His eyesight was clear. His senses were heightened, the world around him suddenly in high definition. He opened his mouth, feeling his sharp fangs pierce his bottom lip. 

He was a vampire.

“Why?” Daniel whispered, aghast. 

“Why did you turn me? You said you never would. You said it repulsed you.”

Armands face crumpled. For the first time since Daniel had known him, he was crying, bloody tears streaming down his face. 

“I wanted… I wanted you to see me,” he said, his voice breaking. “I wanted you to see me as no one else has. Only you.” 

And then, faster than even Daniel could see with his new abilities, Armand was gone. 

TO BE CONTINUED…

[panlight]

Hi. I have a few thoughts about "Breaking Dawn". I am 50/50 with these options, maybe they are both correct or both are not correct. Mayer wrote that all vampires know how to use modern technology because

1. So that vampires don't look pathetic and insignificant in the eyes of modern people who are surrounded by these technologies.

2. Vampires actually interact with these things, Bella is an unreliable storyteller in this.

Imagine stone statues that used to be people, but now they eat people. The cute things they have they took from the corpses of their victims. They don't watch movies or listen to music (don't know how to use technology or don't their senses perceive it?), don't talk to people and fight to the death for territory and food with other vampires. Doesn't sound cool, does it? A vampire who is 300-500 years old with a MacBook and a Range Rover is something else.

Your thoughts?

See this is really fascinating to me, especially back when I was actively reading fanfic, to see how differently other people interpreted it. Because when I originally read the books, my impression was that yeah, they weren't doing any of this. They were living in the woods just eating people and not going near humans at all because they couldn't without killing them. I thought it was really super hard, borderline impossible, for human-killing vampires to really interact with the human world in any meaningful way. That they couldn't pop into a movie theater and watch a film because the temptation to kill everyone would be too great and then it would be a whole thing and the Volturi might come after them. Like, at the time I thought Jasper going into a diner in the first place was super weird; why would he do that (other than so the cute diner story can happen, of course!), especially when he was already thirsty! Seemed to be asking for trouble!

And so, yeah, I didn't think being a Twilight style vampire sounded that cool. Living in the forest attacking random hikers and then wearing their clothes? Can't sleep? Can only drink blood and not enjoy food at all? No thanks. Sounds awful. What's the point of immortality if you can't like, DO stuff? Even the Volturi, Patrons of the Arts that they are, allegedly have just sat still on their thrones for so long they have literally gathered dust and started to petrify. They aren't going out and exploring the world, they aren't being active and engaged. They're sitting there like the stone people they are.

But then other people interpreted it totally differently and wrote vampires outside the Cullens having fairly Cullen-like lives with enjoying human world arts and culture and tech. Other vampires who had jobs and cool cars and nice houses. And certainly I've read and seen plenty of other vampire stories that do that, but I thought originally that Twilight vampires were much more 'feral' for the lack of the better word and hidden, that the whole vegetarian thing DID allow the Cullens a level of access to the human world that other vampires didn't have.

I've now come to think it's somewhere in the middle. I think Twilight vampires are still pretty nomadic, generally, and out of touch with the human world, but not as completely as I thought before. The whole red eyes thing are a bit of problem, but with colored contacts (like Heidi uses) or sunglasses, it's not a huge thing in the modern world. And I think the temptation to hunt is not as extreme as I originally had thought, either. That they probably can sit in a diner or movie theater or library for awhile and be fine as long no one is actively bleeding. But I still think the average Twilight vampire probably leads a pretty 'boring' life that's mostly about where they are going to find their next victim and trying not to draw attention to themselves. The average vampire isn't scrolling TikTok on their phone, because they don't have one, and don't have money to pay for service, because they don't have a job or a bank account. But they might fool around with the phone of their victim for a little while before tossing it so they can't be tracked. They don't have a permanent residence (other than Amun and his hidden temple, I guess), but might "play house" from time to time in a victim's place for the novelty of it, take a shower, figure out how the TV works, before going back to the wilderness once their victim's disappearance is noticed. It seems really lonely and boring, and a waste of their incredible intelligence. Better if you have a mate, I guess, but even then. I think the James/Victoria lifestyle (other than hunting other vampires for funsies like James liked to do) is probably closer to the average vampire experience than the Cullens'.

But then again, in MS James knows how to fly a plane apparently. Or did he just like . . . figure it out as he went since it wouldn't matter if he crashed?

[atinylittlepain]

Only Lovers Left Alive

cowboy!vampire!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

warnings 18+ smut, blood, murder, studio 54, this bad boy has gawt it allllll honey

a/n | this one is from the VAULT lol. i wrote this back in june and never posted it, and now it's spooky season, so here you go, my beloved vamps. it's camp okay? we're going for camp here. ALSO, bonus points if you can guess what song vampaw (joel) is talking about hehehe

...........................................

“Wake up, baby.”

“Mmph.”

“The sun is almost down and I’m thirsty. Come on, Joel.” When he still doesn’t stir, only letting out another petulant huff, the kisses she had been leaving along his bare shoulder blades halt, teeth sinking into skin, her jaw closing just enough to make him grumble.

“Not very nice, darlin. Was having a good dream. We were back in California. You were wearing one of those sweet dresses you always had on.” He cranes his head over his shoulder, cheek still smushed into his silk pillowcase, one eye crinkling open, seeking out a kiss that she is happy to provide.

“Those sweet dresses are about sixty years out of style, my love. Are you saying you don’t like the way I dress now?” With another grumble, he finally twists around to sit up in bed, squinting in the dim light as his eyes roam over her body, sequined and slinking.

“I like you all the time. You know that, huh?” Even after all this time, his palm slipping along her cheek can still set her stomach flipping, the only one he softens his snarl for. 

“I know. So get dressed for me. While the night is still young and the people haven’t flooded themselves with too much liquor yet.” 

If ever there was a decade for her man, she’d think it’d be the seventies with how good he wears it. Cream-colored suit and a black silk shirt that could hardly be called a button-up with the way he wears it, dripping gold chains laid pretty and perfect over the tan plains of his chest. Faded orange aviators to dull the sting of all the Manhattan neon when they step out into the night, his arm slung heavy around her waist as they throng through the sweltering summer crowds. 

That’s the other thing, as the years have passed by it seems that people have started showing more and more skin. Bare shoulders and sternums, shimmering with sweat in the close, hot night. It’s enough to make a girl’s mouth water. But they aren’t the kind to dine out, at least not these days, not when it’s so much more fun to do it like this.

She can feel the bass in her hips all the way down the block, eyes drooping in pure pleasure when she catches sight of the familiar flickering sign of Studio 54. A dance they have down by now, slinking right past the line of people waiting to get in, a quick bat of her lashes loosening that velvet rope for both of them to step inside the pulsing rhythm and light of the club.

Already a little bounce in her heels, bobbing her head side to side, her lips pulling back in a sharp grin, she presses her palm in the middle of Joel’s chest, though he’s unmoving, unimpressed in the close crowd, sunglasses sliding down his nose to look at her.

“Please, Joel.” 

“You go on. Gonna get a drink first.” Whiskey neat. Beneath it all, still her cowboy.

“Oh fine, you’re no fun though. What’re you in the mood for tonight, baby?” 

“Something lean. Swear I could taste the heart attack on that one last night.” Teeth, all teeth, technicolor in the flashing lights. A quick slip, his tongue licking into her mouth just once before he’s shouldering off toward the bar, leaving her to it.

She wastes no time, slipping through the crowd to the middle of the dancefloor, the pumping beat rolling her shoulders back, swaying her hips in an easy spin as she stretches out. She knows all the beats to hit by now. Arching her neck just so, one arm extending out before slipping her palm from her sternum down to her pelvis, her hips dipping back in time with the thrumming music. Side to side, eyes fluttered shut, she can already feel the pull of someone coming closer. Brunette, tall, all sharp lines and glittery eye makeup. 

Early in their time here, they had to set some ground rules. Never anyone famous, not after she nearly drained Elton John before Joel stopped her when he realized who the man was. Low profile. The nobodies, the hanger-ons, the ones they could slip out with and not a soul would notice. And this girl sliding up behind her fits the bill perfectly.

Cherry red nails splay along her hips and she leans into it, tossing her head back on the girl’s shoulder, smiling big and bright. She doesn’t ask for her name because she doesn’t care, simply slipping her hand through the girl’s hair to guide her lips to hers. A quick flicker of her tongue, just a taste to see what she’s working with. Sweet, sweet, sweet.

No words, not over the rolling bass and dizzying lights, just her hips molding and moving with this girl’s, spinning around to slip her arms over her bare shoulders. She catches his eyes through the crowd over the rims of those damn sunglasses of his, shooting him a slanted grin and a small nod, an invitation that she knows he won’t take just yet. Joel likes to watch, something else she’s learned over the years. Nursing a glittering glass of something dark and strong as she continues to sway and dip against the girl. But the moment the dizzying synth of I Feel Love starts flooding through the club, she knows it’ll be time for dinner real soon. Because for as much as he rails against disco music and its sugary-sweetness, Joel Miller has to admit that Donna Summer makes a mean record. 

She feels him before she sees him, a wide palm slinking around her waist to splay over her stomach, pressing up behind her even as she keeps her arms slung behind the girl’s neck.

“Is he with you?” Barely heard over the driving music, she just smiles and nods, leaning in to let her lips graze her ear.

“Do you wanna come have some more fun with us? Somewhere a little more private?” It’s almost too easy. She’d be bored with it if she wasn’t so thirsty, smacking her lips as they trail out of the club, her arm slung around the girl’s waist, her other hand held in Joel’s as they traipse through the swirling, blinking city streets. 

“He doesn’t talk much, does he?”

“Don’t worry about him, baby. I promise he’s lots of fun, you’ll see.” 

Their other ground rule. No alleys, no backs of bars or cars, never in public, always at home, wherever that might be. Easier, simpler, cleaner. The world has gotten more complicated, and they’ve had to change with it.

She lets Joel lead them up the two flights to their apartment, all the while stumbling in between stolen kisses and squeezes with the girl whose name she still doesn’t know, and probably won’t ever know. Another lesson learned, while fear tastes good, whatever this is, this want, this lust, goes down even sweeter. 

Joel doesn’t like to touch though, instead sitting down in the leather armchair facing the bed, legs splayed wide and a palm rubbing at his scruff as she and the girl crawl onto the mattress, the slip of silk against skin, swallowing down her sighs. She kneels behind her, her hand skating up her front to curl around her throat, holding her spine in a perfect arch, on display for her lover.

“What do you think?” The tilt of his head, elbows coming to rest on his thighs, gold chains dangling and dazzling on his neck. And teeth, all teeth. 

“This’ll do just fine, darlin.” 

“Are you guys tripping out or something?” A little tug, just a touch unkind to the girl’s hair, lips to her ear, shushing her. 

“Shh, baby. You wanna feel good, don’t you?” A kiss to her temple, just behind her ear, down over that dizzying pump just below her jaw, so much of it rushing all at once she feels herself get a little lightheaded when her tongue flickers out over that pulse. Her one hand still tangled up in her hair, holding her neck long and taut, her other palm gripping the swell of one of the girl’s breasts, feeling the rise and fall of her ribs between her fingers. That fluttering thing, that thing she can break and burst between her teeth.

Her eyes don’t leave his, steady and still as she mouths along the girl’s neck, finding that soft, trembling spot that makes her jaw ache. A broken gasp, the only sound the girl makes when her teeth finally sink in before that fluttering fizzles out. 

“Dinner’s ready.” 

“Thank you, darlin. Always do so good for me.” Finally sliding his sunglasses off, he kneels down on the end of the bed, the body held between them as they both start to drink. Every last drop. Her mind swims in the sate, warmth rushing beneath her skin as she lets out a long sigh, already slumping back into the sheets while Joel hoists the body over his shoulder. She doesn’t know what he does with them, just that by the time he gets back with a soft click of their front door, a different need has settled in her bones. 

“All good?” His hand slips along her ankle, kneading at the curve of her calf as he kneels at the end of the bed, eyes dragging along her body.

“Taken care of. Don’t worry yourself about it. You already handle the hard part.” The beaded material of her dress slips back, bunching around her hips as she spreads her legs for him to settle between her thighs, his slow crawl onto the bed ending with a kiss dropped to her lips.

“Hmm, I’m not worried. But I do need something else from you, baby.” 

“Think I might know what you need.” He’s already slipping back down her body, tugging the straps of her dress off to let his teeth graze over her nipples. But before he can set her mind into a perfect haze, she reaches over to the nightstand to flick the needle of the record player into place. A chuckle thrums against her stomach where his mouth is resting when that familiar snare riff starts to crackle and pop.

“Don’t deny it. I know you like this song.” He hums low in his throat, his chin resting over her pelvis as his eyes glint up at her. 

“Best invention in a while has to be the twelve inch. Can just let it play, don’t have to worry about catching the needle for a little while longer, and this song was made for it.” When she rolls her eyes at him, his teeth bite down over the jut of her hip, a quick pinch of pain that makes her huff. 

“If you like it so much how come you never dance with me?”

“I like watching you too much. Watching everyone else watching you, knowing you’re all mine, even when you get all fresh with them.”

“Fresh, huh? Someone learned a new slang word it seems.” Another bite to the soft curve of her stomach, hard enough to make her yelp, though he’s quick to soothe the skin with his tongue.

“Just keeping up with the times, darlin. But if you really want a dance with me so bad, I suppose I could indulge you one of these nights.” That crooked grin of his makes her huff. He’s promised her a dance a few times now, and has yet to fulfill that wish. But before she can tell him off he’s already settling the heat of his mouth over her cunt, his tongue dragging a salacious stripe up before settling over her clit in a lazily circle. 

He knows her body like his own at this point, coaxing pleasure out of her the way he knows she likes, a low hum in his throat as he dips his tongue down to fuck up into her, fingers digging into the swell of her ass to press her hips up closer to his mouth. 

They don’t even have to speak, not anymore, just long mewling sighs rolling through her chest, her heel digging between his shoulder blades while he continues to lap at her cunt. But it never gets old, the way she furls up around him, that pleasure contracting and contracting until it all blows out and bursts, white hot and heaving. Only her fingers hooking in the chains around his neck finally drag his face away from her cunt, up and up until she can taste herself on his tongue. 

“Always so sweet for me, huh? My angel gets sweeter every day.” She runs her fingers through his hair, taking a beat just to look at each other, the same man she fell for all those decades ago, that same sweetness in his eyes.

“You and me, Joel. Forever.”

“That’s right, darlin. Forever.” Another kiss, slower and more desperate as she shrugs his suit jacket off, fingers running quick through the few buttons of his shirt that are actually done up before she gets to work on his belt. But she doesn’t get far in her efforts when the catch of the needle startles both of them, Joel grabbing her wrist before she can reach to set it back to spin.

“We don’t need it, huh? Give that Summer woman a run for her money with the moans coming out of you.” He swallows up her laugh, his tongue twining with hers as he finally shrugs his pants down his legs. She’s only a little surprised to see he isn’t wearing underwear, a habit he picked up somewhere in Italy in the 30s.

“How does this damn dress come off?” He grumbles it out, hands grasping at her waist where the fabric has all bunched up and she has to laugh at the furrowed frustration in his face.

“There’s a zipper, here.” Joel huffs as she deftly undoes the zipper running up the side of her dress, pressing his face between her breasts and sighing.

“Fucking zippers. You know what I liked? Those corsets you used to wear with all the laces. That was easy to figure out.” She tugs at his hair, coaxing his face up so she can quirk her brow at him.

“Spoken like someone who never had to wear one.” He just grins, shimmying her dress down until she can toe it off and lay tangled up in each other’s bareness. His cock rests against her thigh, flushed and heavy, the weight of it sending a pang of want up her spine. 

“Do you want me, darlin? You still all mine?” It startles her sometimes, how sweet he can be, those dark brown eyes of his looking up at her through his lashes, glinting in the dim lamplight. Her man, the beast that lays down at her feet. She brings her palm to his cheek, lightly scratching at his stubble, his eyes fluttering shut with the sensation.

“You know I am. I always want you.” That sweetness snaps into a snarl when she coaxes him down for a kiss, her tongue slipping into his mouth and lapping up the last taste of their dinner, just a tinge left on his bottom lip. 

Languid and smooth, he guides the tip of his cock through her aching cunt, both of them sighing when he starts to spread her open around him. Perfect pain simmering just beneath that shake of pleasure, his hips settling against hers, stuttering into stillness as they both settle into the stretch. His palm slides down the outside of her thigh, hooking behind her knee to draw her open for him, her calf resting in the crook of his elbow as he finally pulls back before rolling his hips forward in a languorous stroke that sends them rucking up the sheets. Push and pull, he moves them into a slow, strong rhythm, each thrust making her gasp as she drags her nails down his back. 

“Always so perfect like this, ain’t you? Mine from the moment I met you.”

“Fuck yes. Make me feel so good. Yours, all yours.” It all slurs together, praise and pleas mingling with the slick sound of flesh meeting over and over again. Their mouths rest over each other’s, just close graze, open and receiving what the other provides, swallowing up sighs and moans and preening cries of each other’s names. Just like this, her favorite way to have him, blanketed by the broadness of his shoulders and those blown-out eyes of his, unwavering, a heady weight on her even when she scrunches her eyes shut. Though Joel doesn’t let that last long, a snarl with the sweet when his hand comes to her jaw, fingers pressing into her cheeks to get her to refocus.

“Eyes on me, darlin. That’s it. Fuck, you’re good, huh? So good for me.” His words come out a bit breathless, though his eyes stay steady on her, even as he sits back on his haunches, palms slipping under her ass to pull her hips up into his lap, fucking into her deeper, more desperate. It’s just over the edge of too much, her spine arching off the bed until only the wings of her shoulder blades are pressed into the mattress. Every muscle in her body snares taut and tight, her cunt spasming around him as she unravels, going sick with the pleasure as he settles his hips into a close grind. He’s never far behind, ready and willing to freefall alongside her, muscle curling until he’s hunched over her, his forehead pressed to her sternum as he snaps with a groan of her name. 

He goes slack, slumping down against her, the solid weight of him making her sigh as she runs her nails up and down his back, both of them still coming down. 

“You know, baby, we’ve still got a few hours before the sun comes up.”

“Mmph, not thirsty.” 

“Not what I meant.” He lifts his head from where his cheek had been smushed against her sternum at that, brow furrowing at her.

“You owe me a dance. And I intend to get it before we have to leave this city.” 

While she’s certainly all his, she knows that he’s all hers just the same, and that he couldn’t possibly say no to her, ever. And though it’s not without a few grumbles on his part, he’s back in his suit and sunglasses in no time, palms grabbing at the barely-there fabric of her dress as they slip back into the club. Except this time, she keeps her fingers circled around his wrist, tugging him out into the center of the pulsing dancefloor. 

“Move pretty good for your age, baby.” He rolls his eyes, biting back a smile she can see twitching at the corners of his lips. But he’s quick to hide it, throwing her into a tight spin that makes her laugh, his arm snaking around her waist to pull her back against his chest, his lips pressed to the curve of her ear. 

“Guess I better remind you just how good I can move, huh?” 

He does, until they absolutely have to leave before the sun starts to creep out from behind the skyscrapers, slinking home in the haze of dawn and collapsing in a heap of tired limbs on their mattress. 

Meanwhile, across town, a young woman is taking the subway with a sinking, sickening feeling in her stomach. She’s on her way to the police station. Her roommate said she was going to Studio 54 last night, and never came home, even though she knows she had an early morning shift at Macy’s. Maybe she’s overreacting, she thinks to herself. But the string of disappearances tied back to the club are hard to ignore, and something cold snickers up her spine when she thinks about her roommate stepping behind that velvet rope.

The officer she talks to is kind, taking the time to listen to her story, though he regretfully informs her that they don’t have a single lead on the disappearances, taking the picture of her roommate from her hands and tacking it onto a cork board alongside at least a dozen other faces. 

“I’m sorry, ma’am, we’ll do our best to get to the bottom of it. Though I’ll admit this one has us scratching our heads. But in the meantime, my advice to you is to stay far away from that club. Whoever, or whatever is doing this, it seems like pure evil to me.” 

[lauralot89]

"Now, sir, you can go on and arsk me what you want. You'll excoose me refoosin' to talk of perfeshunal subjects afore meals. I gives the wolves and the jackals and the hyenas in all our section their tea afore I begins to arsk them questions."

Did journalists actually used to write out accents phonetically or is Bram Stoker just doing this for fun

That 'ere wolf what we called Bersicker was one of three grey ones that came from Norway to Jamrach's, which we bought off him four years ago.

Charles Jamrach was a real wildlife dealer, most (in)famous for the time when a tiger escaped and grabbed a small child, who survived. This incident is now immortalized with a statue:

You could just do anything back in the day

He 'ad white kid gloves on 'is 'ands, and he pointed out the animiles to me and says: 'Keeper, these wolves seem upset at something.'

Thanks, Dracula, very helpful.

That there man kem over, and blessed but if he didn't put in his hand and stroke the old wolf's ears too!

Dracula is a Disney princess (countess) confirmed

anceterer

it took me like five tries to understand this

"Well then, sir, I accounts for it this way; it seems to me that 'ere wolf escaped—simply because he wanted to get out."

This one ain't been used to fightin' or even to providin' for hisself

Hence why Dracula had to lob him at the window like a basketball

well, then I shouldn't be surprised if the census is one babby the less

How is babby formed? how is babby formed how girl get pragnent

I shall take this cylinder with me, and then I can complete my entry on Lucy's phonograph.

Can't you only record like two minutes of audio on those?

Did you not get my telegram?

GREAT WORK, VAN HELSING

I flew downstairs and returned with it, taking care to smell and taste it, lest it, too, were drugged like the decanter of sherry which I found on the table.

For as much shit as I have deservedly given Jack "Medical Malpractice" Seward, I have to hand it to him, I would never have thought of that

I noticed that Van Helsing tied a soft silk handkerchief round her throat.

Professor, I hate to tell you this, but I think that vampires can bite through silk

I fear to trust those women, even if they would have courage to submit.

why though

"What's the matter with me, anyhow?"

QUINCEY MORRIS MY BELOVED

A brave man's blood is the best thing on this earth when a woman is in trouble. You're a man and no mistake.

Everyone who meets Quincey is immediately in awe, as well they should be

I found Van Helsing with a sheet or two of note-paper in his hand

She wrote all that in two pages? How small is her writing

Do not trouble about it now. Forget it for the present. You shall know and understand it all in good time; but it will be later.

He can't keep getting away with this

What is it that's wrong with her? The Dutchman—and a fine old fellow he is; I can see that—said, that time you two came into the room, that you must have another transfusion of blood, and that both you and he were exhausted. Now I know well that you medical men speak in camera, and that a man must not expect to know what they consult about in private. But this is no common matter, and, whatever it is, I have done my part...I take it that both you and Van Helsing had done already what I did to-day. Is not that so?...if you may tell me without betraying confidence, Arthur was the first, is not that so?...

Quincey is the smartest character in this whole damn book

His very heart was bleeding, and it took all the manhood of him—and there was a royal lot of it, too—to keep him from breaking down.

Everyone's gay for Quincey

Whilst still asleep she took the paper from her breast and tore it in two. Van Helsing stepped over and took the pieces from her. All the same, however, she went on with the action of tearing, as though the material were still in her hands; finally she lifted her hands and opened them as though scattering the fragments.

This is fine.

Van Helsing seemed surprised, and his brows gathered as if in thought, but he said nothing.

The Van Helsing Standard

Letter, Mina Harker to Lucy Westenra (Unopened by her.)

WHY MUST YOU HURT ME IN THIS WAY

Mr. Hawkins has died very suddenly.

Oh for fuck's sake, Dracula (yes I know it wasn't him)

Forgive me, dear, if I worry you with my troubles in the midst of your own happiness; but, Lucy dear, I must tell some one, for the strain of keeping up a brave and cheerful appearance to Jonathan tries me, and I have no one here that I can confide in.

I'm dying (Just like Lucy! Heyo!)

[havendance]

I finished reading Simone's run on Batgirl (2011) today, and it feels a bit like I'm reaching the end of an era for the new 52 between the upcoming change of directions for her and Dick and Birds of Prey coming to an end, so I figured it was time for another check in.

Batman -- I have already written extensively about Zero Year. I probably have another post or two in me about it if I can pull together the brainpower. It looks like there is ANOTHER Joker event coming up in Batman: Endgame soon. Woohoo. Sigh. Scott Snyder I do not actually dislike your writing, but why?

Batman and Robin -- The Two Face arc was fine. The thing that really through me off though was the fact that the description for the trade for this arc was like "what's the connection between Harvey Dent and Carrie Kelly?" and then Carrie Kelly didn't show up at all? Am I missing something? What is the timeline on this story?

Birds of Prey -- I am not particularly sad to see this one go. This whole series was just all pretty eh in my opinion. I didn't really care about most of the plot lines. I did like Strix, but I really don't have much else to say about this. The best Birds of Prey content honestly comes from whenever Simone dragged them into Batgirl which I think is not very surprising.

Batgirl -- Barbara's fighting Vampire's all of a sudden? Around the same time as Kate's Nocturna drama? It's not even October. Anyway, I did still enjoy the Batgirl: Wanted trade more than the Deadline trade, but this was still enjoyable enough. I really liked the second Annual with Poison Ivy (see my note about Simone writing the best new52 Birds of Prey content despite not writing Birds of Prey). I am of mixed opinions of Helena Wayne Huntress getting brought into the Deadline storyline because it's very much a 'we're homaging the Birds of Prey trio' storytelling decision, and like Simone created that trio, it's her final issues on Batgirl, she has the right to do that! But also they have none of the history and it makes me sad because I miss them and Wayne isn't Bertinelli :( The final confrontation with Knightfall also felt a little anticlimactic and I just know that the plot threads with Barbara's old roommate is about to get completely dropped which is a shame. I am also a little sad that it ends with Barbara asking Alysia to come with her when I know she's about to get stuck on a bus. Alas.

Anyway, this also collected the Batgirl: Futures End issue which, uh, was a story.

Batwoman -- There is a clear drop in art quality when J. H. Williams left the title sadly. The Rafael Albuquerque covers are very good though. As I said previously, it's a shame that Andreyko is under marching orders to break of Kate and Maggie because I like the way he writes them together. I'm curious how the title's going to go for the final arc, because the plots that weren't the Kate-Maggie drama were less interesting and now that he doesn't have that. I suppose the title does end in like 6 issues.

Nightwing -- Nightwing's Chicago era was really fun and I am sad to see Kyle Higgins go. I may have had some beef with him over the fact that he burned down Haley's Circus twice in a row, but he wrote a good Nightwing. It's a shame he was stuck in thew new52 because I would've liked to see what he could do with a Dick Grayson who actually had all of his history.

[aka-efirg]

sooo i wrote the thing i was talking about in this post and wow did it take more time to write than i planned. honestly i blame enzo, he talks too much and has too many opinions

so context for the fic, damon has been having lots of flashbacks from the previous timeline and nightmares these days so he has more and more trouble to appear fine and sometimes everything is too much for him

it's also happening after season 3 with main differences:

-alaric didn't die and get turn into an enhanced original vampire because damon kept an eye on him and made sure he didn't die more than he already did before coming back so ester couldn't corrupt his mind

-elena still gets turned into a vampire but still no idea how it happened since there was no super evil alaric to kill

-mason didn't die as well (or maybe he did, haven't decided yet) (but if he doesn't die, he will totally bitch with damon about katherine and how she manipulated them and made them fall in love with her. it's how they bonded)

-no idea what happened with ester and how they got rid of her

and during season 4 where they are trying to find the cure (jeremy is one of the five)

also damon has marks that look like burn scars on his arms and his back (hellfire) and a symbol on his chest (emily's mark to send him to the past and to protect him because him being in the past could count as being a disruption to natural balance)

Seeing Damon, seated cross-legged on his bed with fingers tightly pressed against his temples, is sadly unsurprising but nonetheless worrying. He knew it was bound to happen with how Damon spent the whole day zoning out, eyes looking at things that weren’t there, brows slightly burrowed as if he was fighting a headache. Enzo knows he is the only one who noticed—or maybe not, if the occasional glances the witch kept sending the older vampire’s way were any indication, and Enzo absently wonders what she sees, because he knows she can’t perceive what he does—

(the hurt, the despair and the guilt, the blood, the death and the fire)

so he wasn’t surprised when he witnessed Damon leaving the living room, so silently the only reason he noticed was because he didn't take his eyes off the older vampire. It took almost twenty minutes for the others to notice the oldest Salvatore was no longer with them and for Stefan to worry about where he was. At their questioning glances, Enzo simply stated that Damon was in his room before leaving as well.

(Sometimes Enzo wants to shake the younger Salvatore so hard, wants to crack his head open while screaming at him to just look at his brother, to see how much he’s hurting, all the things he hides behind sarcasm and apathy and monstrosity. He wants to gouge his eyes out just so he would have a reason to not see. And other times he wants to tear him apart because he can’t help but reminisce about hope and faith slowly shriveling as days and months and years accumulated, as blood kept pouring and screams became better than silence—because if he screams it means he is still alive it means you haven’t lost the most important thing you have left in this instant)

After closing the door as silently as possible, Enzo takes in the heavy air in the room, feeling like ozone and something electric, magic but not before focusing on his friend, his tense form on the bed, his breathing deliberately slow, sharp contrast to his heartbeat, too fast for a vampire. Slowly, Enzo walks closer to the bed, making sure to make some noise. Even if he’s sure the other vampire heard him, he doesn’t want to risk having a cornered, distressed Damon near his throat. When he notices Damon isn’t reacting save from a little tightening of his shoulders, he sits down on the mattress and waits.

“I’m fine.”

Enzo takes the time to look at his friend’s face, thin lips, burrowed brows and tightly closed eyes. In sum, in pain.

In sum, perfectly, absolutely fine.

Not even bothering to answer—did Damon really think he would believe him—, he edges closer and only then is he able to see the light, barely perceptible tremors that run through Damon’s arms, more noticeable around his hands where they’re pressed hard against the skin.

“Damon.”

The other vampire doesn’t answer, just curls a bit on himself, bringing his knees higher and his elbows closer to his body. Removing his shoes (because Damon will absolutely chew him out if his mud-covered boots so much as touch the silk covers, well… he will when he doesn’t look like a particularly sad puppy, as blood-sucking as he is, one scream away from collapsing into itself and—great now he just wants to hug this metaphorical puppy), he makes himself comfortable on the bed face to face with the older vampire waiting for him to acknowledge him.

When Damon realizes that he is not leaving and that he will not win at the waiting game (Enzo has plenty of experience in waiting and Damon is not particularly known for his patience, quite the contrary), he finally opens his eyes to glance at the younger and Enzo nearly wishes the other stayed how he was. He knows the look Damon is sending him is supposed to be a glare, to convey his annoyance at his presence but all Enzo can see is the shine. Gleaming blue eyes looking at him and… fuck he didn’t think it was that bad.

Damon must read something on his face because his eyes harden, a sneer appearing on his lips.

“I’m fine. Go away.”

Enzo has to act quick if he doesn’t want Damon to completely close himself off.

Suddenly Enzo wants nothing more than take every single person who made Damon so cautious and insecure about his hurts and vulnerabilities the simple thought of having them feels like a weakness, of showing them a burden, and tear them to shreds, piece by piece so they can feel every hurt, every tear they forced Damon to keep for himself. He wants to watch them burn, helpless and begging for mercy. And okay, maybe this is a bit extreme, but he spent seventy years being tortured, cut open, reduced to nothing but a mass of bones and blood. He long lost faith in mercy, leaving him only with a rage so intense and unending he wants to put the world on fire, scorching it into nothingness, just to sit on its ashes (or maybe dance, Damon has always loved dancing) and revel in the resulting absolute and beautiful desolation.

(When Enzo is left with nothing but fierce everlasting rage, he needs to unleash it because he knows, otherwise, it will simply consume him and everything around him. But—

—his torturers are all dead. Enzo remembers the ravages Damon left when he came back and rescued him, the complete destruction of everything Augustine represents, in pieces, covered in red and burning so hot he could almost feel the flames licking at his body, but this time, a promise of freedom instead of a promise of pain and blood.

—no matter how much he cursed the man, hated him with a searing, blinding passion, Enzo has long accepted he could never harm Damon. No matter how much he tried—and tried he did—. So many times (too many times part of him cries) he found himself looking down at the other vampire, straddling him, a stake pressed on his chest, tip piercing the skin just above the heart. Just one pressure and the wood would slide right through the bone. Blue eyes looking up at him, blankly, calmly, just waiting to see what he would do. So accepting Enzo wanted to scream at him to defend himself, to stop making himself so vulnerable. To do something because he left him to die, he killed one of the most important people he had and he shouldn’t accept to die. He doesn’t have any right to let Enzo kill the last person he has left. He did scream a few times, eyes burning with tears, until his throat was so sore the only sounds that left his mouth were rasps of rage and despair, and all he could do was throw the stake so hard against the wall it exploded in thousand fragments before collapsing, curses on his lips and apologies and regrets on Damon’s.

So while he doesn’t care whether the world burns and crashes, he will be damned before he lets anything happen to Damon. If he can’t direct his rage to the ones who wronged him—all dead and ashes and unable to harm them anymore—, he has no issue focusing it on the people who hurt his person.)

Distractedly wondering if it would be possible to resurrect one Guiseppe Salvatore, just to have the pleasure of killing him atrociously, Enzo practically jumps on the other vampire, taking his wrists into his hands. The glare Damon sends him is ferocious, and Enzo is sure if he were anyone else, he would have lost a few fingers for his trouble. When he’s certain he actually won’t lose any part of his body, he slowly lets go of the other’s hands and moves until he finds himself behind Damon, against the head of the bed. Even though the older vampire is watching him, he still lets a soft noise of surprise when arms grip his waist to pull him against the other’s body. He fights the hold for a moment until the younger vampire tightens his arms and drops his head against shoulder.

For a moment, everything is still and silent except for their breathings, one calm and deliberate, the other rapid and jerky until it progressively slows down. The shaking doesn’t stop though and when Enzo notices the tight grip Damon has on his own arm, hard and grinding—he is surprised the bone hasn’t given way yet—, he places his own hand on the other’s to make him relax his grip.

He turns his head, his lips barely touching the other vampire’s skin, but he still feels Damon react, how he inhales abruptly and presses himself more against him.

“It’s okay.” And he drops a faint kiss where the shoulder and the neck meet and Damon simply… stops. Falls further into Enzo like a puppet with its strings suddenly cut. A whimper escapes his mouth, something like a sob. Enzo kisses him a second time, this time on the neck, right on the pulse point. “I’ve got you.”

The next kiss lasts longer and, after removing Damon’s hand from his arm, he starts rubbing his thumb on the already healing bruises, feeling the sharp and still-getting-used-to contrast between cold and warm.

(This is something new. Where now sit marks—burn scar-like—, Damon’s skin is an interesting and unnatural mix of cold and warm skin. Vampires and undead cold. Humans and living warm. The first time he noticed it, he wasn’t able to contain his curiosity. But, when he questioned it, Damon shut down. Frozen and staring into space, watching things only he could see. He stayed like that for almost one hour, not even realizing how long he was in this state nor remembering what the question was. It was enough for Enzo to know not to ask about it again.)

His arm still around Damon’s waist now sits under his T-shirt, gently stroking his ribs, enjoying the light shiver that follows his hand. His lips stretched slightly, and he knows Damon felt it because he hears the beginning of a growl that ends up in a strange and entertaining mix between a groan and a moan when he starts dragging his nails instead. Enzo lifts his head, laying his cheek on the other’s shoulder, when he feels Damon turning his head. Placed like this, their noses bump before they can look at each other. When their eyes meet, Enzo smiles at the glint of amusement in Damon’s eyes. Because he much prefers this to the empty stare the blue-eyed vampire has been displaying all day, he slightly moves his head, rubbing their noses together once again. He is rewarded with a small chuckle, barely a sound but here in the way Damon’s lips stretched up a little and his eyes lighted up for a second. Feeling a bit lighter than when he entered the room, he can’t resist pressing his lips against the other’s and revels in the soft moan of surprise he gets in response. Damon doesn’t reciprocate, but he feels him relaxing, heartbeat finally calming down to a vampire-normal one.

When they separate, and since they’re already all feeling and soft, he murmurs a faint “I love you” and—wow the look he gets is so precious, so fragile it is heartbreaking.

(Seriously, tomorrow the second-class scooby gang (Yes, Enzo thinks pettily, they don’t deserve Capital Letters.) better be on their best behavior, or heads will be rolling.)

“I love you.” He repeats, making sure to look the other in the eyes, and kisses him one last time before repositioning himself behind Damon, bringing him closer. The other vampire leans against him, grabbing the hand next to his arm and starts playing with it. With the way he seems too focused on their linked hands, Damon must be thinking about something. Used to him sometimes needing time to organize his thoughts before speaking, Enzo simply waits for him to be ready to speak. Absently he goes back to stroking the other’s ribs, head resting against the headboard and his eyes closed.

Somewhere between his thoughts about the probability of making Stefan disappear without Damon noticing (zero percent) and if cheese chips and chocolate ice cream would make a good combination (the idea has some merit), Damon stopped fiddling with his hand, dragging his forefinger the long of his fingers instead. Enzo gets distracted by the change and almost misses Damon speaking.

“I love you too.”

Well, speaking might be the wrong word. The words are said, barely a whisper. And without his super-hearing, he would have missed them. Before he can respond, he feels Damon tensing a bit before he moves, so that they are facing each other, more or less with Damon still seated between his legs and his own arm around the other’s chest.

His eyes meet blue eyes, intense, filled with determination.

(God, Enzo loves these eyes. Haunting unforgettable breathtaking eyes.)

“I love you too. I know I don’t say it often. But I do.”

(Be still, vampire-heart. No need to beat like a normal human one.)

“I know you do. You made it pretty clear from the moment you came back to rescue me.”

That seems to take Damon by surprise who can’t help but blurt a stunned “What?”, eyes wide open.

“I mean I didn’t let myself believe at the beginning because… well obvious reasons,” and Enzo is pleased to see the other is not looking away for once, despite the flicker of shame and guilt that still flashes in the blue eyes. “But trust me, thinking back about it now, it’s really evident. You came back. For me.” Enzo takes the way Damon opens his mouth, probably ready to refute what he is saying, and glares at him. What he wants to say is hard enough. After a few seconds of hesitation, he takes a breath. “We talked about it. Several times. You know what I think and you know I forgave you. The thing, Damon, is yes I was angry and hurt and I felt betrayed. But there were days I was… not happy but relieved you could say. Because you got out. Because, deep down, I knew if you hadn’t left me, you would have got captured again and it would have meant the year prior would have been for nothing. That whole year, starving like I never did, always feeling on the verge of desiccation, would have been in vain. Plus, who knows what they would have done to you after you killed every attendee at the party. They were vicious afterwards.”

(And they were. The year that followed the massacre at the New Year party was atrocious. The scientists who survived or who weren’t there felt vindictive—like they had any right—and they took it out on him. He was an easy target for their revenge. The experiments became harsher, unforgiving and downward crueler—something he didn’t think was possible after fifteen years in their clutches. And if the physical torture wasn’t enough, he was feeling hurt and betrayed in the worst way possible. And so angry. There were days he was so furious the pain of the experiments barely registered. He would spend these days on the operating table planning how to take revenge on Damon in the most brutal and devastating way possible.

He knew everything about him, it would have been so easy to ruin him irreparably. Because Damon, for all he appears callous and impervious, cares. So much it is ludicrously frighteningly simple to hurt him.)

“But this is not what I was getting at. I mean, we can talk about it again. If you want. But another day. When at least one of us is emotionally able to lead this kind of conversation. What I wanted to say originally is… you came back. And no matter how angry, hurt or relieved I was that you weren’t there with me anymore, I still hold that hope that you would. Come back I mean.” For some reason, Damon looks particularly stricken at that, something heavier than guilt shining brightly in his eyes and Enzo almost wants to ask about it. Doesn’t because he knows Damon will not answer. “Of course, the hope I had that you would rescue me flickered a lot. Some days I felt ridiculous thinking you’d save me because I saw you turn your humanity off and you probably thought I was dead. But some days I was thinking to myself that maybe today would be the day you wake up and realize I didn’t die that day and that you’d come.” Unable to look at Damon for his next words, Enzo lowers his head, staring at their linked hands instead. “These days were the worst.” At the sharp inhale from his ex-cellmate, he stares down more intensely. “Because at the end of the day, I was still in this cell and I felt so stupid. But as stupid as hoping was, it… helped me. In some kind of cruel way. Because, if I had hope, I had something to hold onto. I couldn’t keep relying on anger to survive. I would have gone crazy. Lost myself in ways everything they did to me would never have. But, these last years, it was getting harder and harder to hold on to something positive. The fatigue, the pain, it made it easy for all the negative emotions to break through. Even then, I was losing my grip on them. And all of a sudden, after fifty years, you are here. You are standing in front of my cell, covered in blood. Then, you open the door and I’m out of the cell. I’m walking through the lab and there is blood and bodies everywhere. Until you shoved that guard at me so that I could drink, I was still persuaded it was a hallucination. A very elaborated one my brain conjured to… torture me more I guess. Damn, I don’t even remember where I was getting, but the bottom line is you came back when I thought you wouldn’t.”

When he finally looks up, he swallows. Damon looks devastating, he can practically see his heart breaking in his eyes. Enzo hesitates. He didn’t mean to make Damon feel worse. Maybe he should have waited for him to be emotionally more stable. Releasing the other’s hand—and pretending not to hear the wounded sound at the action—, he puts his two hands on Damon’s cheeks, making sure he is looking at him.

“You came back and got me out when you could have left me there,” Enzo can’t help but feel a bit relieved when he sees the other frown, protective anger in the lines of his face. “And then you didn’t leave me alone, you stayed, and you took care of me.” Dark eyes stare straight into wide blue ones. “At first, I thought it was out of guilt, and maybe it was, partially. But I know you. Guilt alone wouldn’t make you stay or help. Or keep still while someone is pointing a stake at your heart.” The last part is said with a bit of reproach despite Enzo knowing it is useless. Damon has something akin to a martyr complex but instead of the whole thing about sacrificing himself for people’s sake, he is willing to die if he feels he deserves it. In a fucked-up way, despite how it angered him at the time—still does to be honest—, Damon not trying to defend himself and looking ready to accept whatever punishment Enzo had for him, even death, was what convinced him Damon was earnest, made him realize how important he was to him.

(He swears, people who say Damon is unable to feel any sort of remorse have never seen him actually deal with guilt. Probably because it presents itself as recklessness and stupid impulsive decisions. Ordinary Damon things. But the thing with guilt is that Damon takes all of his worst traits and makes them worse.)

Because Damon has a thing about deals and debts. He particularly noticed it these last months, seeing him interact with people who are not himself nor doctors and their assistants. How he would carefully formulate his sentences, always letting himself some ground to defend himself if something goes wrong. How he would retaliate if he thought someone wronged him, or someone he cares about, one way or another. And okay maybe what he considers as wrongdoings is very subjective, but meet them and you find yourself confronted with a particularly violent and vindictive vampire. Enzo would have thought the others would have noticed it at this point, particularly the wording thing. But since he has arrived, they were still as careless as ever with their words and as clueless about Damon’s.

He is pretty sure the only person who caught on is Elijah, but it is probably because the Original vampire is as careful as Damon with his phrasing. Hell, the two practically made a game out of it, see who will be able to outword the other first without anyone noticing it—except Enzo who usually watches the two going at it with amusement. And keeps score. At the moment, they’re tied. Damon won the last point after the questioning and suspicious look Klaus sent his brother. (The victorious subtle but not really smirk Damon sent to Elijah made Klaus glance pointedly at the younger vampire. All it did was make Damon smirk more obnoxiously, this time mockingly at the hybrid. Enzo was already planning how to steal Klaus’s blood to cure the idiot from werewolf venom.)

“You don’t make a habit of showing your caring unless you actually do care, and even then you have to know what to look for. And you haven’t stopped since then. You think I haven’t noticed how you always seem to have blood bags close at hand. How you always make sure to be between me and the biggest threat in the room—which, I see how you keep flicking your eyes between me and Stefan, as if you don’t know whom to stay close to. Sometimes you look like you’re one blink away from kidnapping us out of the situation. Or one of us so that you can completely focus on the other. It’s cute in a way. Pretty sure Stefan thinks it’s unsettling the way you stare at him, but at least I get to laugh at his growing paranoia.”

A small laugh escapes Damon’s mouth. This little feud between Enzo and Stefan never stops amusing him.

“I love you. And I know you do too.” Right, this is what it was about originally. “You show it to me every day. I don’t need you to say it all the time.”

Damon simply stares at him in response, a small frown appearing between his brows. “It doesn’t mean I couldn’t say it more often.”

“And it is nice hearing it. But it doesn't mean I need to hear it, you already show it to me every time, every day.” When he sees Damon's brows furrow deeper, lips thinning in displeasure, he adds. “Stop being a stubborn dolt and just accept it.”

Now at the risk of incurring Damon’s wrath, Enzo's lips turn up in a small smile at the face the other vampire is making—which is not a pout because big bad vampires do not pout. (And it's not big bad wolfy who will disagree. His expression when he was told by his brother that his idea of turning Mystic Falls inhabitants into vampires so the littlest Gilbert could complete the map better stayed an idea was not a pout. Enzo sometimes looks at Damon and Klaus and can't help but laugh because no wonder these two can't get along, they're just too similar in the worst possible way.)

“I’m not saying all this to make you feel better. I am telling you. I have never doubted it. Believe me, when you’re being all you,” at the confused tilt of head he gets, he simply smiles, “it’s not hard to tell. I mean, even your brother knows you love him and you are a lot meaner with him. And… and I have no idea what we were talking about but I love you, you love me, we love each other, it’s nice.”

Damon raises an eyebrow, all judgment and wow, Enzo can see the resemblance between both Salvatore with this expression. “It’s nice? Really?”

“Shut it! I didn’t really plan on being all emotional today.”

The light amusement on Damon’s face straight away dies out and Enzo kind of wants to hit himself for it.

“Sorry. Today just felt… too much.”

Enzo smiles sadly and cups Damon’s face with his left hand, making sure to look him in the eyes. “Want to talk about it?”

The answer is obvious on Damon’s face, but after sighing, he still answers. “I thought I was doing okay, but they started talking about the most efficient way to kill as many supernatural creatures as possible. And it was too much because they are basically talking about mass murder and, I mean, I don't particularly care but… I don’t know, today I didn’t feel like listening anymore.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, there was no progress on this front after you left. Doubt there has been any since I left.”

“Give them a few hours, they’ll come up with something. They can be particularly ruthless when it comes to their interests.” With a slight frown, he adds. “I better find a good place to hide the stake.” At Enzo’s questioning glance, he says. “I don’t trust them with something like that.”

Something in the way Damon said this sounds strange to Enzo. But aware the raven-haired vampire will not answer him, he doesn’t push. “What about your human buddy? Can’t he dissuade them from doing anything stupid?”

“You really think they’ll listen to Ric? I mean, Jeremy might but that’s all. And even then, the others can easily talk him into whatever shitty plan they think up. Believe me, it’s easier than it seems to convince little siblings to do what you want.”

Seeing how just thinking about what the Scooby Gang could come up with seems to suck out all of Damon’s energy, Enzo brings his other hand to the other’s face before kissing him. Damon instantly relaxes at the contact and leans forward to deepen the kiss. Thanks to their dampened need to breathe, the kiss lasts a few minutes during which Enzo lets himself think of nothing. Simply Damon seated between his legs, solid and real. His hands holding the dead-cold skin. One of Damon’s hands resting on his hip and the other gripping his knee. Enzo lets a moan escape when he feels Damon’s hand slides under his T-shirt, rubbing slow circles with his thumb. Feeling the other’s lips stretching into a smile, Enzo retaliates by biting them, fangs out, savoring the taste of blood on his tongue and the grunt accompanying it.

Finally breaking the kiss, Enzo’s attention zeroes in on the already healing bite and resists the urge to reopen it. A temptation starting to be too strong when Damon almost makes a show of licking his lips to get rid of the blood. So instead, Enzo focuses on the blue eyes already looking right at him. He lets himself a few seconds to lose himself in being Damon’s sole focus, gently stroking his cheeks, watching how the raven is leaning in at the movement, not breaking eye contact. He smiles, a tiny little thing, when Damon turns his head, taking his thumb in his mouth to nibble at it, not even piercing the skin. Sometimes Damon has the cutest little habits.

“Feel like doing anything?”

Damon lets his thumb go and stops to think, observing the younger vampire closely—probably (certainly) to determine what Enzo wants—so Enzo makes sure to keep his expression open, letting him know that the choice is entirely his, that he is okay with whatever he decides. After several seconds of scrutinizing, Damon seems to come to a decision. Still fixated on the other vampire, he slowly shakes his head.

“Not really. Not today. Can we just…” He seems to hesitate—shy as Damon Salvatore should never be—before gesticulating his hand between them and the bed.

Enzo doesn’t wait to agree, having immediately understood what Damon meant.

(Someone needs to remind Damon that it is alright to simply want to cuddle without sex involved. That if he wants someone to hold him, he just has to ask.)

(Realizing that the love of your life you spent a century and half trying to save from a fate worse than death lied to you and only used you for sex had certainly led to some serious self-love issues. Enzo would really like to have more words with Katherine Pierce. In retrospect, maybe he should have burned her the first time he met her. Because she damaged Damon so deeply Enzo has a visceral need to hurt her. And Enzo could appreciate the irony)

“Yeah, we can.” Letting the other go, Enzo takes his place back against the headboard and puts his arms around Damon’s waist when the older vampire pushes himself against him. Damon immediately grabs one of his hands in his before he starts playing with it. When Enzo doesn’t feel the other vampire relax after a few minutes, he puts his free hand on Damon’s tight, stroking the covered skin. At the light tensing of the man in his arms, Enzo begins to delicately put kisses on the exposed skin in front of him. He keeps doing so, butterfly kisses on the neck, nothing more, and his hand rubbing lazy circles on the other’s tight, not moving higher or lower, until he feels Damon slowly relaxing in his embrace once he is certain Enzo has no intention of going further.

The air around them feels lighter and lighter every second Damon unwinds a bit more until Enzo doesn’t feel like he’s about to be struck by lightning anymore. Instead, all he feels is warm contentment, and he lets himself be lulled into a soft feeling of security he doesn’t think he has ever been able to feel until Damon. Because there is something about the older vampire that makes him feel safe, that tells him he can let his guard down because he knows the other won’t let anything happen to him.

“How about we stop existing for a few hours?” Damon simply hums in response. “No original vampires, no magical map, no cure, and more importantly, no teenager drama. Just you and I between four walls, against the outside world.”

“At least there is no cement wall between us.”

“At least there is nothing to prevent us from cuddling.” He lets a short laugh escape at Damon’s groan.

“Please don’t call it that.”

“I’m calling it how I see it.” To emphasize his point, he tightens his hold and shoves his face in the junction between Damon’s neck and his shoulder. “I’m cuddling you.”

“You’re strangling me. You planning on letting me breathe at some point?” His only answer is the tightening of the grip around him, efficiently constricting his lungs. “Very funny.”

The dry tone only causes Enzo to drop a kiss on his neck followed by a nip right on his pulse point. “You don’t need to breathe.”

Damon huffs before slapping one of Enzo’s legs. “I do. And I’ll need to, eventually.”

“Admit we’re cuddling and maybe I’ll let you.”

“Maybe?” The clutch Damon’s in tightens a bit more.

“I’m very comfortable in this position.”

“You’re trying to crush my rib cage.”

“Cuddling.”

“Cuddling does not involve broken bones. Nor asphyxia.”

“That’s what you think. You just haven’t cuddled anyone in a long time.”

“We— You’re the one who spent decades as a rat lab, what do you know?” He simply gets a hum in response. “Plus, I’m the one who was stuck with a clingy angel-faced little sibling.”

“It was like two centuries ago. Doesn’t count.”

“It was never-happened ago for you. I win.”

“Okay little spoon, whatever you say.”

“How do you even know about that?”

“I’m catching up on modern slang.”

“Please, never say that word again. It sounds wrong coming from you.” Enzo decides to not answer and instead bites the skin on Damon’s neck before sucking. The other vampire inhales sharply. “If you’re hungry, there is blood downstairs.”

Enzo lifts his head to place it on Damon’s shoulder. “And risk bumping into the gaggle of murderous babies. No, thank you.” He sweeps the room with his eyes. “You should have blood in your room. Why don’t you have blood in your room?”

Damon doesn’t answer, preferring instead to settle more cozily against the younger vampire with a faint sigh of content. Enzo adjusts his grip until they’re both comfortable. Damon takes his hand once again, fiddling with his fingers and his ring. With Damon’s fixation with his hands, Enzo is half worried Damon is going to steal them. Or his ring. Damon looks like the kind of person to steal jewelry because he likes it.

After a few minutes of silence, Enzo leans his head toward Damon, chin hooked on the other's shoulder, a small smirk on his lips. He can feel Damon shift at his movement. “So,” from the way Damon freezes, he probably already knows he won't like what he'll hear. It simply makes his smile widen. “What about snuggling?”

Without missing a beat, Damon answers. “I'm disowning you. Starting now and ending never.” But, despite his words, he doesn't move. On the contrary, he leans further backwards and Enzo can't resist. 

“Looks like to me you do want more snuggles.”

With a grunt of disgust, Damon makes a move to extract himself from the other's embrace cuddle but Enzo tightens his grip. “Okay, okay, no cuddling and no snuggling. Just you and I against the outside world.” Despite his words, he makes sure to snuggle the other vampire as close as he can. “So, what do you say? We pretend the outside world doesn’t exist and we stay here where nothing can reach us?”

“I like the idea.”

Enzo smiles and starts stroking Damon’s arms with the tips of his fingers until the other is completely relaxed and nearly asleep. He drops a small kiss on Damon’s lower jaw and shifts a bit so they are both comfortably settled. He waits until he’s sure Damon is asleep before picking his phone to write a quick message to Alaric to tell him to not bother them until at least midday the day after. Message sent and not waiting for the confirmation the hunter saw it, he puts the phone down, adjusts his grip and lets his head fall against the headboard, listening to Damon’s breathing gradually lull him into sleep.

They have tons of problems to deal with, but for now, he’s content enough to ignore them. They’ll have all the time to worry about them tomorrow. And the day after. And every day that follows. His last thought before succumbing to sleep is wondering if he'd be able to convince Damon to ditch Mystic Falls and its seemingly never-ending troubles.

END

so this ends up being longer than i planned, sorry for that but i hope you liked it i had fun writing it

i'll probably edit and post it on ao3 at some point, there are stuff i haven't been able to fit here so we'll see

also damon might seem a bit out of character but you should remember that the guy came back from a future where he saw everyone he loved die and he was having a bad week

[cbrownjc]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Well, I now have time to do things like this, so thanks for tagging me @nalyra-dreaming, lol!

--------------------------

How many works do you have on ao3? -- 5

What’s your total ao3 word count? -- 122,062

What fandoms do you write for? -- Interview with the Vampire/Vampire Chronicles

Top 5 fics by kudos -- Well I only have 5 fics up on AO3, so:

Now or Neverland

Half-Forgotten Dreams

Goodbye Yellow Brick Road

Promises, Promises

Where the Truth Lies

Do you respond to comments? -- Yes, I try to respond to all comments I get and have done so for the most part. (I've only got one sitting in my inbox that I need to reply to at the moment).

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? -- Where the Truth Lies. First posted it less than a week ago, so I can't elaborate on it, just . . . yeah.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? -- Well, in the relative scheme of things, I guess Now or Neverland's ending would be considered "happy." IMO it's really more wistful than happy, but not as bittersweet as the ending of all my other fics are. Excepting Where the Truth Lies' ending, of course, as I noted above.

Do you get hate on fics? -- Only on one fic. (And it was rather. . . telling . . . that it was on that fic too, IMO.)

Do you write smut? -- 😏 But, so far, no PWP kinds, as what I've written are all scenes within larger stories being told.

Craziest crossover -- Um, none. Unless you want to count real-world history that some of the stories bump up against as a "crossover." Which, personally, I don't. However, I did write a real crossover fic once, but it's not on AO3 . . . nor would I call it crazy.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? -- No, not that I know or heard of.

Have you ever had a fic translated? -- Again no, not that I'm aware of.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? -- Well, I've co-written a series, not just one specific fic. So I guess that works for this question.

What’s a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? -- LOL! Okay, I know for a fact that I'm never going to finish this fic I'm about to talk about. I started it back in 2005, and 10 years later I put up a note saying I wasn't going to finish it. And it wasn't for IWTV Fandom, nor is the fic posted on AO3, but I want to mention it anyway. Because there will always be a part of me that wishes I could have finished writing this fic, and has wished it for years.

It is a Buffy/Harry Potter Crossover fic called Harry Potter and the Mystical Key. It's posted and still up on FF.net, and it's the one and only fic I have posted on there.

It was the first real fanfic I ever planned and started writing. I wrote and posted up to something like 56K words of it too, before I abandoned it, mostly due to losing my passion for writing because of real-life things that were happening to me around that time. And no matter how much I tried, I just had no interest in trying to finish it. But it's always kind of haunted me over the years, and made me wary of ever starting another fanfic project again over the fear of losing interest and never finishing it.

And now, I've completed 5 fics within a 200K (it's looking like) series, writing 122K of it in one year. I'm happy. 😊

What are your writing strengths? -- I think I have a good and natural feel for how to structure a story so that it will be interesting to read. I, personally, have always had to at least know the skeletal structure of a story and where it's going before I start writing it . . . otherwise, I just feel like I'm wasting my time on writing something with no point to it. I'm also not afraid to change things in the middle of writing something if I come up with something better.

I'm also not afraid to skip around when I'm writing. Makes writing the stuff I may not be as interested in writing easier to write if I've already written the things/scenes I've most been looking forward to.

I've also been told that my writing style is very vivid. I also am totally fine with someone editing my stories to hell and back because I do that very same thing myself. Nothing is perfect, but I always try to make sure a story is the best it can be before I post it.

What are your writing weaknesses? -- If you may not have noticed, I suck when it comes to spelling. Also, I can be way too vague sometimes when I'm trying to hide a later revelation in a story, but still set it up beforehand. I always have to remind myself that just because I understand the hint I'm trying to lay about something, that doesn't mean I've made that hint clear enough to the reader.

And I suspect I may be too wordy since many of my fics tend to be long. (Over 10K.) I never set out to write long stories on purpose, but I know the length of the stories I write can probably be off-putting for some people.

Also, just sitting down and writing can be hard for me to do. I can get distracted and procrastinate easily. I have to have the correct focus -- usually light focus music or writing sprint videos -- playing to get things done. (And, when I'm writing at night, I usually light some candles as well.)

Thoughts on dialogue in another language? -- As long as it fits the character, I'm up for it.

First fandom you wrote in? -- Strawberry Shortcake. I was around 5 years old or so (so it was like 1982-83). My mom let me use her blue Brother typewriter but I had to use lined paper instead of typing paper because she didn't want me to waste that kind of paper on what I was writing. I didn't know that I was writing fanfic of course, but that was totally what I was doing. I sat and hunted and pecked out the letters. IIRC I typed about two pages of my little story too (over like a weekend).

That said, the first fanfic I ever wrote after first coming online was a short Star Trek: Voyager fanfic that I can't even remember the title of now. Or if it's still up online somewhere.

Favourite fic you’ve written? -- Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, simply because I think it's the most tightly written of the five fics I've written so far. I also just really love the structure of it, which I planned out in linear order, but then wrote non-linerally. I don't think that story would feel as tightly written as it does if I had just written and posted it in linear order.

--------------------------

Okay, that was super fun to do. 🙂 Glad I now have time to do things like this. I'm just going to tag @faerywhimsy, @girlwithakiwi, @virginiaisforvampires, @doublehex, @elsakey, @impressionism, and @faerywhimsy if any of you would like to do this too. And, of course, anyone else who wishes to do this too go right ahead. :-)

[baldurspeen69420]

I wrote fanfiction and now im making it your problem

"There you are now, Noir. Doesn't that feel better? Don't you feel handsome?"

Shadowheart ran the fine-tooth comb through the black cat's thick fur. He purred and stretched himself on their bed, his tiny pink toes splayed in satisfaction.

"Darling, I love you, really. But don't you think you're spoiling your beast a bit?" Astarion was lounging in the plush chair across from them, one leg propped over the armrest as he thumbed disinterestedly through a novel. "Cats are clever. You inflate his ego too much he's bound to revolt against us, I'd wager."

"He would never, he has me wrapped around his little claw and he knows it."

Noir trilled and rolled languidly, his eyes round and inky. What was it Gale had said about Shadowheart herself so long ago? Eyes as deep as the Darklake? Like mother, like son.

It had been such a long time, hadn't it? A year now since the Netherbrain crashed into the ocean outside Baldur's Gate, a year since their odd team had parted ways. Gale going back to Waterdeep, Wyll and Karlach to the Hells, Lae'zel riding the astral sea on dragon back. . . Then there was only her and Astarion, no grand purpose waiting for them after the culmination of their journey. An orphaned woman still regaining her memories and a vampire spawn with no master.

So they went together, returning to nights of an all too familiar darkness. But things were . . . different.

For one thing, they no longer traveled together out of sheer circumstance and survival, but instead as friends. Genuinely.

They had despised each other at the start of everything. Shadowheart could still remember the cold of Astarion's blade against her neck upon stumbling across his crashed pod outside the Nautiloid. The desperation that led her to drive her head against his skull to escape. The moment of standoff before their tadpoles connected, before memories of dimly lit streets and gnawing hunger filled her mind. And then there were the weeks after. Her suspicion, his ire.

She called him petulant, selfish, self-aggrandizing, foppish, and ridiculous. He called her stubborn, stupid, prudish, and worst of all, an utter bore.

But time passed. They fought battles, traveled miles. She checked his more chaotic impulses, he made her laugh. And now here they were, sharing a room in a dingy inn south of Neverwinter. Plus the cat Shadowheart had added to their little duo to Astarion's very vocal annoyance. But she pretended she hadn't seen him stroking the feline's head when he thought her out of eyeshot.

"What is it you're reading, anyway?" Shadowheart asked, leaning over to try to see the cover.

"Nothing much, just the book I found under your bed when you went out." He replied. "What is it? Lust of the Triton Prince?"

"You!-" The tips of her ears burned red as she sat up to try to snatch the novel away. Astarion lifted it out of reach with a tut.

"Oh come on, I'm just about to get to the good part. He's about to present Devina with his scaly trident. I'm too invested to put it down now!"

"What in the hells are you doing rooting around under my bed?" Shadowheart demanded. "Can I not have an ounce of personal space?"

"If you didn't stash little tidbits like this around, I'd have no reason to go scrounging, would I? Let me read, please?"

She huffed. "You can borrow it for tonight, but mind yourself next time. I think you're acting very bold for someone within guiding bolt range."

"You would never." Astarion didn't even look up. And he was right, of course, she wouldn't.

Shadowheart leaned herself back onto the bed with a sigh. He was like an annoying little bloodsucking brother. But he was her annoying little bloodsucking brother, all things considered. "Since you're this far already, how do you feel about Prince Neptunias?"

"Ugh, gods, don't get me started." He rolled his eyes. "He's beyond irritating. The whole nobleman's honor thing makes me gag. There's not a chance he'd really be half as interesting in bed as the author writes him. Now Larius on the other hand . . ."

"You're not even supposed to like Larius, he only cares about his family fortune."

"I just see a man who knows what he wants. And really, what's wrong with that? If the author didn't want you to root for him, they shouldn't have made him so attractive."

It was a fair point, his introduction always made Shadowheart a little weak in the knees. Something about the blue eyes and the duelist boots, perhaps.

Once the sun had set they were off on the road again. Shadow had gotten used to sleeping during the day on Astarion's schedule. It wasn't as if they had much of a choice, seeing as how he'd be reduced to embers if they went out into the sunlight. But this journey was meant to change that. They were going to find a cure for his vampirism, and she was going to recover a relic of Selune in the process.

As they walked, her eyes wandered up toward the stars. She thought about an old friend once more, the image of her silver sword raised to the heavens.

"I do wonder what Lae'zel is doing up there, right now. Cleaving through hordes of Beholders perhaps?"

"If I had to guess, I would say she's covered in blood and spearing a few of Vlaakith's little minions. I'm sure she's in her element." Astarion replied.

Noir rested heavily in Shadowheart's bag, leaning against her side and keeping some potions warm under his weight. Another fragment of the past bubbled to the surface of Shadowheart's mind.

"And these pets, what purpose do they serve?" Lae'zel had asked, tiny nose in the air as usual.

"They're dumb animals to feel superior to." Astarion said.

Shadow wrinkled her nose at the two of them. "How about comfort? Companionship? Do any of those words mean anything to either of you?"

"I'd rather find my comfort and companionship in a strong set of arms, but I guess not everyone gets that opportunity, do they Shadowheart?" He snarked.

Lae'zel nodded. "The spawn speaks truth. No base creature could compare to the pleasures of flesh and tongue."

"You're both disgusting. Are you incapable of thinking beyond your genitals in any scenario?"

"I'd never dream of it and I find the very insinuation insulting." Astarion drawled.

What night had that been? Just before the raid on the goblin camp? It had to be, she could remember the bowl of stew in her hands that Gale had labored over half the evening. And the special ingredient Karlach had generously added in an attempt to be helpful. That was how Shadowheart learned she had no spice tolerance and a burning hatred for Elturel hot pepper.

She had also watched their Githyanki companion directly dunk her hand into a scorching pot of stew to fish out a few chunks of meat, to Shadowheart and Astarion's fascination and disgust. No one touched the leftovers after that.

A cold rush of wind brought the cleric back to the present moment. She breathed in the smell of the dewy grass and adjusted a strap of her armor.

"I wonder if we'll see her again." She said, more to herself than Astarion in particular.

"Who's to say? Stranger things have happened. I'm more curious if they've made a fitting shrine to me yet. Didn't she say she'd memorialize us as liberators of her people? We really ought to get proper recognition for our efforts."

They walked in silence a moment until Astarion broke it.

"I do miss her too, you know."

"I know," Shadowheart said. "I can read between the lines with you."

The vampire scoffed. "Is it so easy? I need to become more mysterious, give you a challenge again."

"As if." She rolled her eyes and turned her face away to smile.

[mycelium-menace]

Happy holidays @yoshiintheweb !!! This is my gift to you for the @mcytblrholidayexchange. I hope you enjoy!

I saw Vampire Fwhip in your requests and got very excited, because I have been obsessed with Dracula this year. I hope you enjoy this Roseblings/Wither Rose Alliance vampire au! The playlist has songs that are vampire-coded (to me), as well as songs that just fit the vibe. The fic is epistolary like the original Dracula novel. It's sometimes serious, sometimes silly, and hopefully a lot of fun to read. Fic under the cut :)

Fwhip’s Diary, Sept. 17

So, my teeth are definitely getting sharper.

That shouldn’t be a surprise, but it’s definitely going to take some getting used to. You don’t just wake up to your teeth being different and say “Oh yeah, that’s not weird at all. Totally fine. Already adjusted to it.” Like, you don’t realize how well you know your teeth until they’re wrong. Ugh.

It is fine though… I think. We still have time before the transformation is irreversible. Between Gem and I, we’ll figure it out soon. That’s what we’ve always done.

It’ll be fine.

Right?

Gem’s Diary, Sept. 22

I finally got my hands on that book on vampire lore! Who knew the occult section of our local library would be so popular? (And to that, who even knew our local library even had an occult section??)

It has the best recipe I’ve found for a blood replacement meal for Fwhip, and this one doesn’t even need any sheep’s blood or expensive coconut water! Fwhip seems to like it pretty well too, which is an added bonus.

The rest of the book was pretty useful, beyond the basics (avoid sunlight, garlic, wolfsbane, silver, giant stakes in the heart, you name it.) It had some pretty good tips on how to slow the transformation, and of course what to do when we find the vampire who started all this.

We still don’t have any leads on said vampire, but I’m optimistic. It’s most likely they’re in this town or the next town over since they usually have to rest in their original grave during the day. Honestly it’s not surprising, all things about our local history considered...

Fwhip’s Diary, Sept. 30

We finally told Sausage. He wasn’t really buying my “sudden garlic allergy” story to begin with, and he was asking a lot of questions, so we figured we might as well let him on it instead of keeping secrets from him. And he’s taking the news pretty well actually! It turns out one of his cousins is a werewolf, which is… not quite the same thing? But his heart is in the right place.

He’s really enthusiastic about helping us with all this, which is helpful because he’s the only friend we know with a car. We want to drive to Dogwood Grove to investigate one of their graveyards. It’s the oldest one in the county, with a proper mausoleum and everything. Maybe we’ll find that vampire’s hideout and get him to turn me back. Maybe we won’t even have to use the crossbow I’m building.

Gem’s Diary, Oct. 2

This isn’t strictly related to our research, but I thought it was interesting. The author of that vampire lore compendium, X. Thorn, also wrote a book on demonology, and I was curious enough to check it out too.

Apparently Thorn was an expert on all things occult, but also just a little… weird. I suppose that comes with the territory. He wanted to summon a demon army and conquer the world. Or maybe become a demon? It wasn’t super clear by the end of the book to be perfectly honest. He was kind of obsessed with some demon called Xornoth that he wanted to summon (or maybe it was his demon-sona? it’s not really clear which of those it was, and he published these books like a hundred years ago so we can’t exactly ask him.) Incidentally, Thorn was from right here in Rivendell. I wonder if we’ll come across his name any more during our search.

Fwhip’s Diary, Oct. 3

Well, Sausage was the only friend we knew with a car. Now we’re all out of luck.

Last night we were coming back from a research trip to Dogwood Grove when a white fox ran out onto the road in front of us. Sausage swerved and luckily missed it, and his car wound up in the ditch. We’re all safe, if a bit shaken, but his car is totaled.

It’s weird… I didn’t know we had many foxes in these parts, much less arctic-looking foxes? I mean, I guess that’s not the absolute weirdest thing about this town (I’m literally turning into a vampire right now), but it’s still unusual.

In any case, we need to figure out a new ride soon. The recipe Gem found for substitute blood is fine, but I’m starting to get thirstier. A lot thirstier...

Gem’s Diary, Oct. 5

I’ve noticed Fwhip isn’t sleeping much anymore.

He stays up most of the day when we’re doing our research, although he can’t go outside without SPF 1000 and my old floppy beach hat. At night I usually find him in the garage working on his inventions. He’s always been a gearhead, but he only ever throws himself into his work to this extent when something is seriously bothering him. When I ask him how he’s taking all this he insists he’s fine, but… well, I’ve known him my whole life. I know when he’s lying.

There have been a couple recent incidents at night when I wake up in the small hours to find him standing at the bedroom window just staring. I call out to him, but he doesn’t hear me. It seems like he’s sleepwalking, which is something he’s never done our whole lives. After a few minutes he turns, looks at me with eyes that look right through me, and silently goes back downstairs. I ask him about it in the morning but he doesn’t remember any of it.

Fwhip’s Diary, Oct. 9

Good news, we found someone with a car who’s willing to help us get around! Bad news, it’s Sausage’s cousin… the werewolf.

Gem’s Diary, Oct. 9

Don’t get me wrong, Pearl seems really nice, and I’d probably get along with her great in any other circumstance. The problem is, well, the circumstance. I guess vampires and werewolves don’t exactly get along? It’s hard to describe the feeling I get around her, but I’m just so uneasy. I mean, for her part she’s polite to me, even if she might feel the same as I do.

I guess it’s good to have her on the team, and anyone to help us fight the vampire who turned me is good to have along. I just don’t want to have her around any more than we need to for right now. I’ll talk to Gem about that in the morning when she wakes up, hopefully she’s on the same page as me.

Pearl is the coolest person I think I’ve ever met. She has a van called Gilda that’s covered in sunflowers, she lives on a farm, she’s a classically-trained fencer, and she’s a werewolf?! I love her. I want her to join our group and also stay forever.

Fwhip’s Diary, Oct. 13

Gem found something in one of the books about hypnotism, and we decided to give it a try. It’s supposed to help slow the transformation process, which would be good because I feel less and less like myself every day.

The thing is, when I was in the trance I kept getting these visions. There were shapes I couldn’t make out at first, and a smell of somewhere damp and musty, and the sound of stone on stone. But then I saw myself standing in a cemetery, right in front of an old mausoleum. There was an angel statue next to it which was pointing at the doorway, and a great big oak tree behind it. I really get the feeling that I’ve seen this before. I just can’t remember where.

I’m not really sure if the hypnotism is working to hold off the transformation. My teeth – fangs, really – are sharper than ever before. And last night I dreamed I was flying through the night sky on dark wings. At least, I hope it was a dream.

Gem’s Diary, Oct. 18

We found the mausoleum from Fwhip’s vision! And get this, the family it belongs to? The Thorn family. That’s right, the same X. Thorn who wrote all those occult books. Somehow I knew he would come back up.

I did some more reading, and it looks like Thorn had a half-brother named Scott. Scott was actually one of Rivendell’s mayors, and he and his brother had a couple of public clashes that led to him stepping down from his mayoral seat. Then a few years later, he just apparently disappeared without a trace. In one of his last journal entries before his disappearance, he lists a bunch of symptoms eerily similar to vampirism: aversion to sunlight, sudden allergies to nightshade-family plants, and he couldn’t bring himself to enter the cathedral he had once attended regularly. If I’m right that Thorn was behind those incidents, we may have a solid lead. I’m going to see if I can find a picture of him to show Fwhip. That may help to confirm it.

I think we’re getting very close. I just hope we’re quick enough.

Fwhip’s Diary, Oct. 18

As soon as Gem showed me a portrait of X. Thorn, I knew that was who we’re after. It was just an old painting, but it sent a chill down my entire body. I would know that face anywhere. That’s the face that keeps me up at night. Those were the eyes I saw that night. The eyes of Xornoth, Dark Lord of the Night.

I know what we have to do now. Even if it destroys me, which the books say is about a 50/50 chance, we have to stop Xornoth for good.

I won’t let this happen to anyone else.

Gem’s Diary, Oct. 27

I’m starting to agree with Fwhip about garlic to be honest. We just had to buy, like so much. Garlic cloves, garlic flowers, garlic salt, garlic powder. It’s all for the binding ritual, which will hopefully go off without a hitch and get Fwhip back to normal without complications.

With the garlic, we have everything we should need now. Fwhip has his contraptions, I have the charged crystals, and Sausage got us some holy water. The only thing now is to wait for the next full moon.

Fwhip’s Diary, Nov. 6

Tonight was the night. It took a while for us to prepare everything, but we finished right before dusk. We all waited just outside the mausoleum door until we heard the scraping of stone against stone. Not long after, we heard an unearthly growl. That was our cue.

We found him trapped in the binding circle, spitting and hissing. When he saw us there, he got quiet for a second, and then started to laugh. This is the part I’d like to say that we were super cool and didn’t cower at all… and you know what? This is MY diary, and I want to keep my cool image. So yeah, we were like, “Hey Xornoth, turn me back into a human NOW or else we’ll send you back to your grave.” And he was like, “Oh no, please spare me! You’re too cool and that crossbow is super sick and-”

Gem’s Diary, Nov. 6

That’s not what happened.

Fwhip’s Diary

Yes, it totally is!

Gem’s Diary

Oh my god.

Fwhip’s Diary

Alright then, how would you tell it?

Gem’s Diary

Sausage screamed and your voice cracked when you were trying to confront Xornoth. And then he laughed at you. Pearl had to be the one to force him into starting the ritual to turn you back.

Fwhip’s Diary

Well, you also screamed.

Gem’s Diary

I’m not denying that! I’m just trying to keep you to the facts. Geez.

Fwhip’s Diary

In any case, the process worked! I have a reflection in the mirror again, and my teeth are slowly going back to normal. And we managed to banish Xornoth, or Thorn, or whatever you want to call him, back to his grave for good. A win all around, I’d say!

The one thing left that’s bothering me is, I think we’re missing one of the vials of blood replacement from the fridge. Gem was meticulous when she made those, with a date labeled on each vial so we could track my intake. The only other people who knew about those are Sausage and Pearl, and both of them swore they didn’t touch it. I just hope no one drank it. It has nasty consequences if you’re not already a vampire.

Well, that’s a problem for another day. At least we know none of our friends were dumb enough to drink it, right?

...

...

Sausage’s Diary, Nov. 7

I’M A VAMPIRE NOW??? THIS IS SO AWESOME!!!!1!! I CAN’T WAIT TO SHOW PEARL!!! :D

[catboy-jaebeom]

this shapeshifting vessel is a lie

it's been a year already since my last pinned, and I got shadowbanned exactly around that time back then because of course I did, so here's a new one 🩷

I'm Autumn, but you can call me Faon as well. my pronouns are they/ them. ticked all the boxes on the queer registration form, and I'm currently in a queerplatonic poly relationship. I was born in '95. central european & white. future linguistics student. proud plant parent. kpop fan. I really adore vampires and I write original and fan fiction, as well as poetry. I speak english and german, and I'm studying french, japanese, korean and finnish. lover of bats, snakes, horsies, deer and cats, as well as sharks. I sometimes make cat ear edits and vampire edits of idols and actors ( see: my icon ) so if you want me to make one for you, you can DM me.

my interests and hyperfixations change over time — yes, it was a phase, mum! name a constant state of being, mum! — and I change my username every two years, round about. currently I'm really into the quantum leap spin-off, live action one piece show, and I'm watching a couple of kdramas and such at the side. I play baldur's gate 3, vampyr and control, but also 2064: read only memories.

I was very active in the shadowhunters and the dragon age as well as the james bond / 00q fandoms, and I will reblog every single gif of spirit - stallion of the cimarron, it's my childhood movie. also, Jin Oshiro from STRAY (2019) deserved better, thank you. you may know me as leafmiilk, taehdenveri, fliederfuchs or thetevinterelf.

this blog of mine was created in 2012, I was on here already when you could still count on the superwholock people to throw gifs at posts although I was never one of them, which, trust me, was a hilarious feeling in hindsight asjfjahajft. I have one sideblog worthy of note @splittergheist which is my writing blog, and I have a secret sideblog for my omegaverse / miscecanis stuff ( much more the lifestyle, world building and concept than the smut and stuff, I'll be honest, but no hate at all!! ) that I might give out if someone asks nicely and privately.

that said, I tag my posts extensively, and if you ask politely, I will try and tag specific things for you too! please be nice in my inbox or I'll simply delete your ask and block you. 🦈 oftentimes I will message you privately when you've sent me an ask that doesn't seem to be an ask game or such! and while I do post stuff for tag games I'm not a fan of tagging others unless we're, like, really close, sorry ><

relevant kpop stuff can be found under the tag. I also put some "reviews" written by mutuals about my blog there, thank you everyone, you're lovely 💚🌼

and thank you everyone else for reading this, may your days be bright I think we all could need that at the moment. I would super love new people to talk to ( please have your age / some approximate of it in your bio; I'm totally fine with talking to minors but I would like to know I am before I do, thank u ) so message me or reply to this!

kpop stuff

ult group: GOT7

other groups I like: NCT 127, WayV, Red Velvet, ITZY, Seventeen, SHINee, ONEUS; ...

soloists I like: XIA / Kim Junsu, Taemin

biases: Lim Jaebeom & Choi Youngjae; Nakamoto Yuta; Xiaojun; Kang Seulgi; Hwang Yeji; Joshua Hong & Lee Seokmin; Choi Minho & Taemin; Kim Leedo & Lee Seoho; Park Seonghwa & Jeong Yunho; Kanemoto Yoshi; ...

wreckers: Mark Tuan & Kim Yugyeom; Ten Lee; Kim Mingyu & Lee Woozi; Kang Yeosang & Song Mingi; ...

for as long as xitter still lives, you can find my kpop account under: jaebueomgi

blog reviews

@meant-to-be-a-hero wrote on 22nd November:

Shall I compare Autumn's blog to a summer's day? I shall not, because I am not a hack. Equal parts language jokes, kpop boys (and girls, but I don't look at those) and #bitter millennial blogging, there's something for everyone here at Autumn's blog. They are also one of the few people who still write funky things in the tags, a true dying breed on Tumblr. I feel like I'm reviewing a restaurant or something. Either way, click follow, thank me later, because you will. It's a good blog, Bront.

— ★★★★★(★★) [ 7 out of 5 ]

@klutenpetter wrote on 22nd November:

It seems I have misplaced the URL of the blog in question that I was supposed to review.

— ★★★★★ [ 5 out of 5 ]

[clockworkspider]

Ohhh that tarot prompt game is such a cool idea 👉👈

Yuzuru and Ibara?

Or, if you're not comfortable with them, Keito and Eichi because I will never shut up about them?

Doesnt need to be romantic!!

Keito and Eichi ended up with the better card draws.

Six of cups - Happy memories from the past, inner child Reversed Hanged Man - Resisting change of perspective Reversed Devil - Attachment holding one back, unable to let go

cw: end of life discussions

Keito and Eichi finalizes Eichi's funeral plans.

—

“Keito! I’m so glad to see you! If I have to talk to another lawyer I think I’m going to die two months early. Did you bring the Item?” 

“Don’t joke about that. And yes, I brought it. Tho I think it’s still too soon to revisit this. My family and I will take care of everything, so why don’t you focus on living.” From his bag, Keito withdrew an old notebook. Tho the color of the cover has faded with time, the edges were as crisp as they were 18 years ago. On the cover, in the neat and stiff writing of a child, were the words ‘Eichi’s funeral plans’. 

“I want to finalize this while I still have the energy, otherwise my family will have everything their way.” Eichi answered, a matter of fact. 

“Funerals are for the living, you know?” Keito chided half-heartedly. Already prepared to execute Eichi’s demands, no matter how unreasonable. 

“That’s why we’re reworking it, right? I’m not gonna ask to keep the pyramid, so you can relax. I’m sure with the amount of proposals we’ve overseen thus far, we can come up with something dignified enough to satisfy my family. But it’d be a shame if there’s no trace of all the hard work of our childhood selves.” 

“Fine,” Keito said. He sat down, opened the notebook, took out a pen, and grimaced. 

“Oh?” Eichi intoned. 

“Our imagination truly knew no bounds back then,” Keito explained. 

“Pass it, I wanna see!” Eichi took the notebook and poured over it, occasionally reading aloud what he thought were amusing. 

“Oh my gosh, is that your writing? Did you actually make a vampire shogun reference here?” 

“It was a cool scene. I think it’s very poetic and appropriate for a buddhist funeral. You seem to have agreed here.” 

At that, Eichi fell silent, and just stared. 

“What?” Keito asked. 

“I’m just thinking of how familiar this look. You, sitting by my hospital bed, with that notebook and pencil in your hands, planning my funeral,” he said, smiling. 

And now it was Keito’s turn to be silent. 

“It was easier back then,” he finally said, looking away.  

“I never thought I’d live this long back then, to be honest,” Eichi answered. 

Keito had nothing to say to that. 

—

They spent some time pouring over the details, going between reminiscing their childhood and working on the new plan in an unhurried fashion. Truth be told, neither of them had any time to waste. Still Keito argued over the increasingly silly ideas seriously. If they keep working on it, it would never become something final. 

“Anzu has volunteered to organize a send-off party with our generation of yumenosaki graduates and the initial ES staff. We can incorporate some of the more light hearted ideas there instead, so the funeral itself can be more solemn, and you can take part yourself if you have the energy,” Keito said. 

“Really? She didn’t tell me!” 

“We were going to finalize a few things first after our session together today. She didn’t want to trouble you with it at the early stage yet, but I figured you’d want to start composing your monologues.” 

“Fufufu…” 

“What now?” 

“Keito has changed. The past Keito would have never relinquish part of his plans to someone else. 

“Well, if it’s that girl, I’m sure she’ll handle it with care.” 

“Keito is more proud of our beloved Anzu than anyone, right? You’re the one who corrected all her earliest proposals. I’ve seen the mark-ups. You were merciless, you practically re-wrote the whole thing!” 

“Well, she’s fixing mine now.” 

“She’s come a lone way, hasn’t she? Tori too… To think we’ve started the path to our dreams with so many blunders. Back then, I never thought we’d get this far. To think that I got a chance to stand shoulder to shoulder with Wataru… And Akatsuki has come so far too. I know you and Rei fought the long fight with Rhylin execs and won. I’m proud of us.” 

“Save that for the speech,” Keito said, paused, and added, “I’m proud of us too.” 

“But you know, I don’t really know if i’m sold on the idea of a light hearted sendoff and a heavy solemn funeral. I know some people want their friends and family to send them off with a smile. Like it’s all going to be alright and they can go happy. That’s just lying to themselves, right? I’d rather see how much people will miss me while I’m still alive,” Eichi said glumly. Then, with a bit of mischief in his eyes. “Say, why don’t you cry for me now, Keito?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous! How did the conversation even turn to here? I’m not Hibiki, I can’t cry on command.” 

“But you’ll cry for me after I’m gone, right? That’s so unfair, everyone else will get to see it except your childhood friend. Rei mentioned he made you cry on stage once. And to think I missed it!” 

“I wasn’t crying on stage! Stop bringing that up!” Keito snapped, then sighed, an expression of immense pain. “Anyway, you can’t ask that of me. 

“It’s the job of officiant to direct the mourners and keep things together until the end. It’s not my turn to mourn until everyone else are done. To ask me to cry for you while you’re still alive. Incorrigible.” He tutted, and he didn’t say, ‘If I do, I don’t know if I’d be able to stop. If I give in to grief, and let it swallow me whole, I don’t know if I’d ever resurface.' 

Eichi laughed, startling and crystal clear. “But Keito has been crying for me all these years, haven’t you?” A pause. “When I look at you, my first friend, I can’t decide if I want you to move on and be happy, or if I want you to mourn me forever. When I think of the person all of you will become without me in your lives, it hurts so much. 

“In Buddhism, they say attachment the source of all suffering, right? And seeing Keito suffer is a hobby of mine.” 

“You use to be so cute,” Keito muttered, “how did you grow up to be so twisted?” 

To that, Eichi could only chuckle. 

“Hey, Keito,” Eichi said, “I’m not ready to go. 

“I don’t want to leave.”

And Keito, without words, pulled him into his arms in a trembling hug, crushing them together tighter than they’ve ever been before. 

“I don’t want to go, Keito,” he repeated, over and over, between sobs he didn’t know if they were his own, “I don’t want to go.” 

—

“No Eichi, we are not doing the scavenger hunt on your funeral. Don’t be ridiculous.” 

“You’re already thinking of clues, right? Keito loves that kind of thing. I know you do.”

[kiss-my-freckle]

Full Episode Commentary

1x15: A Few Good Men

This post is long and anti-Stefan.

I laugh at the title because Damon is written as the "bad" brother. At this point, he could collapse into rubble having found out Katherine was never in the tomb. She was out in the world all this time, but never once bothered to see him.

So... a bachelor is a man that's never been married. While it's weird for them to include Alaric, they wrote them to be short on men for their fundraiser, and did it for the sake of putting Alaric on stage with Damon. imo, it's of no coincidence that Caroline makes reference to The Bachelor in 3x20.

I love the way Harper apologizes before kllling an innocent. As a person, I consider him their greatest tomb vampire. His daylight ring is a purple gem, magnificent. A great color for supernatural beings, especially witches. It symbolizes power and mystery. Harper takes the man's clothes to fit in rather than stand out. It's an era thing. His cell phone starts to ring, but Harper has no idea what it is or what it does, so he tosses it on the ground. Elena is leaving Bonnie a voicemail. She misses her, but understands she's mourning her grams. She tells Jenna she's been writing in her diary. Sometimes I wonder what things she might've written about Damon. Is it weird to wanna know what and how much of Damon is in her diary? Elena asks Jenna if she dug into her adoption. She's been wanting answers about her biological parents. Jenna introduces her to her mother, Isobel. A cheerleader in high school like Elena. Is it a surprise that Elena becomes a vampire like her mother? The closest connection Jenna could find for Isobel was her cheerleader friend, Trudie. She gives Elena her address, then informs her that Alaric's dead wife might be her mother. "There's something else. Mr. Saltzman… Ric. His wife was from around here, and her name was also Isobel." That's a lot for Elena to take in, so she needs to talk about it asap.

When she tells Stefan about it, he has all reason to worry. Alaric already informed him in 1x13 that Damon killed his wife, so if they're the same person, then Damon killed Elena's mother and Stefan knows it. He immediately tries to control the situation, first trying to find out what Jenna told Elena about the death of Alaric's wife. Whenever Stefan questions people like this, it's always to see how much they know before he tells them things he doesn't have to. This allows him to continue keeping secrets he wouldn't tell otherwise. People tend to pay when Stefan keeps secrets, and it's a constant thing with him. Not just his secrecy, but his need to control the situation. He doesn't even bother to wait for Elena to invite him along to meet with Isobel's friend. He invites himself, that's how controlling he is. "Now, listen, if you do decide to go talk to Isobel's friend, I'll go with you. Okay?"

"He's dealing in his own way." They start talking about Damon, who is fang-deep in his mourning process. Their chosen soundtrack is perfect for the scene and I love the lighting. Thighs, wrists, neck… Damon is enjoying the taste of four Tri-Delts aka sorority girls. "No! Buzzkill Bob." I consider this a Trevor parallel. "I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be? I spent the last 145 years with one goal: get in that tomb." Only having one goal in life may not seem like a big deal, but I consider it an impairment. It would cause tunnel vision, to the extent that Damon would obsess, fixate until he completes this goal. With one goal, I consider him a metaphoric tomb vampire, and his world would look very much ike the tomb. To put it bluntly, getting in and getting out looks the same. That's why Damon needed the tomb open. It's not about what he does or doesn't deserve, it's about his livelihood.

Better for him to have several goals so his world isn't narrow, empty, and miserable with every goal failure. "I succeeded. Granted, Katherine wasn't in there to be rescued, but why dwell?" Damon shrugs off his pain like it's no big deal. "You know, it's so liberating not having a master plan because I can do whatever the hell I want." This line is specific in the fact that he's done with necklaces and grimoirs and strategies to open the tomb because it's open. He now has the freedom to do whatever he wants. A heartbreaking freedom for him, but freedom nonetheless. Important in the fact that this freedom is the reason he's able to fall in love with Elena. The tomb door is symbolically linked to their dance soundtrack in 1x19. That's when Damon falls in love with Elena.

This is where the brothers differ in heartbreak. Damon outwardly tells Stefan he might as well spill because he knows Stefan isn't there to help him through the pain. Yet in 4x7, that's what Damon wants to do for Stefan after his breakup with Elena. He makes a direct reference back to this episode. "Or we could just blow it off and go get drunk. Brother bond over some Tri-Delts. If you, you know, want some quality time." And of course, you can't forget Stefan's response to that. "Let's not pretend like this isn't the best day of your life." This is all part of their Stelena - Datherine parallel.

Instead, Stefan ignores Damon's pain and acts like this is a good time to question him about Isobel - as if he's blind to the fact that Damon is mourning. The very first scene I wanted to scream at a character. Stefan is being selfish and controlling. "There was a woman you may have known a few years back named Isobel in North Carolina at Duke." Damon's like… wow, I can't believe you went there. Stefan's questioning him about a woman from his past while he's mourning a woman from his past. "You wanna discuss the women in my past right now? Seriously?" Just as he was with Elena, Stefan immediately tries to control the situation while being secretive. This moment here would've been the best time for Stefan to come out with it. ALL of it. Like hey… Isobel was Alaric's wife and is possibly Elena's mother, and you killed her. Rather than actually tell him WHY it's important, he simply tells him to think hard because it's important. Stefan is setting Damon up to hurt Alaric and Elena with this cagey crap. "Nothing is important, not anymore." For 145 years, it was important for Damon to open the tomb to rescue Katherine. Nothing is important anymore, now he's mourning. "I have to go and exploit some women in the name of grief, which I'm sure you understand." It's not a shock they cut scene this way. Damon is exploiting some women in the name of grief, and here they are… introducing Matt's mother lol. She walks in on Matt and Caroline while they're getting ready to have sex. I'll be referring to this scene in my 1x16 re-watch post.

Alaric talks to Jenna about being one of their bachelors for the fundraiser. They kiss whie hanging up a bannr for the event. Jenna interrupts for the sake of telling him about Elena's mother. According to Ric, Isobel never had a baby. Poor Ric, blind to the realities of his wife. When Jenna shows him the photo of Elena's mother, he realizes it's his dead wife. Like Elena, that's a lot for him to take in, so he leaves. It's made clear that Trudie knows vampires exist. She watches Elena cross the threshold despite not inviting her in. I'm not sure if she tested her for self-preservation or if it was Isobel's desire to know. Trudie texts Isobel to let her know about Elena.

Matt's mother has been gone for months, and tells him she's never in one place too long. While she's gone for those months, Matt is having to work to pay the bills for the sake of having a home. I hate how a lot of these parents treat other kids. Carol treated Vicki like trash. Matt's mother is speaking of Caroline like trash. I can understand wanting the best for your kid, but wow. Even the ice thing is wow. She has Matt waiting on her because she's basically a guest in his home. When they start talking about Vicki, she speaks as if Vicki takes after her. "Are you trying to say I need a reason to come back?" She hasn't been home for months and he's the one that's been taking care of the house, so I'd say so. I don't know any parent that blows in and out of their kids' lives like this, but I consider it altogether insane.

Stefan meets with Alaric. This is when the issue with Isobel starts to thicken. Stefan hands him another three-in-one, which makes this a total of six warnings about Damon. Alaric thickens the issue by pressing the issue. The Damon vs Alaric in this episode is all about time. Alaric had time to mourn his wife. Granted, he's been looking for her killer, but he's had enough time to mourn Isobel that he's now building a relationship with Jenna. Damon just had his heart ripped out by Katherine. "Just" being the key word. Alaric has been looking for Isobel's killer for a few years now, but acts like time is an issue with finding his wife's killer. He already found her killer, so no, I don't see any reason why Alaric can't wait to get answers next week or next month when he's got her killer in his sights. Yeah, I get that he wants answers and he wants justice, but I'm sure he wants to stay alive too, and Stefan just warned him - again. Give Damon time, period.

But the problem isn't just Alaric pressing the issue. It's Stefan. He won't even offer him a vague explanation as to why Damon needs time. That's why Alaric's comment to Stefan in this scene is everything. "I need to know what happened. I think you would, too." He's basically telling Stefan that if it were Elena, he'd be the same way, so it's a line that needs to be directed at Damon. There Stefan is, refusing to offer Alaric insight into Damon's mindset. If Alaric knew that Damon "just" had his heart ripped out after waiting 145 years to rescue Katherine, that Damon himself needed similar answers about why Katherine wasn't in the tomb, he wouldn't be so hard-pressed to get answers. He'd know and understand how unstable Damon is, and give him time to work through that. Stefan is now trying to control the situation while being secretive with all three… Damon, Elena, and Alaric. Like cars, they're gonna collide. Alaric hands Stefan a photo of Isobel for the sake of jogging Damon's memory. Thing is, he remembers Isobel quite well. Damon simply wants to mourn.

They show more flashbacks of Alaric and Isobel. She's starting to pull away from him, that's how consumed she is with her work. Trudie pushes Elena to try the tea because she dosed it with vervain. She already knows Elena isn't a vampire because she crossed the threshold without an invite. This has me wondering why she felt the need to dose her because this would act as a basic one-time dose. Elena immediately tastes the vervain. When she starts questioning her knowledge of vampires, Trudie insists she leave. Honestly, these scenes between Elena and Trudie come off a lot like Enzo's scenes with Sara. She sees one of Isobel's men outside of Trudie's house and drives off.

This is where Alaric has me wanting to scream at him. Stefan just got done telling him that Damon isn't stable right now. "Unstable" is a broad term, but Alaric doesn't consider this. "You know, he murdered my wife, or at the very least made a meal out of her. When has he been stable?" For Damon, this is humanity-driven instability, and it's this type of instability that makes him dangerous af. He just had his heart ripped out by Katherine. "Damon is not stable right now." Stefan made it clear with his usage of "right now" that Damon can be stable, he's just not stable right now. He'll be more stable later, best to get his answers later.

Alaric assumes Damon doesn't get depressed, which is an asinine assumption to make. That's when Damon hits him with it. "You say that like you know me." Alaric claims it's just a hunch, but it's an assumption. He knows nothing about a vampire's humanity or their humanity switch. imo, he should've done more research on vampires before approaching Damon, never mind the fact that he's ignoring all six of Stefan's warnings. This is the moment Damon realizes he didn't compel Alaric in 1x12. He's being shady, and Damon knows it.

Liz pops in and makes a reference to Damon being a daydrinker. She's about to ask him for a favor when he slams her with his truth. "You ever been in love? Have you ever been so bent on someone just to have your heart ripped out by them?" That's what he's feeling. Liz reminds him of Bill. "Right. Gay husband." Damon buys her a drink so they can mourn together lol. I love Liz, but why ask Damon to be a bachelor now? I mean, he's daydrunk and mourning a lost love. How does she think he's gonna act by the time he hits that fundraiser? Literally everyone in this episode is refusing Damon the ability to mourn. "You know, a room full of women clamoring to win a date with me. Sounds tasty." I can't stop laughing at Damon's comment. Tasty has an alternate meaning. He's gonna get a date to feed on like he did the Tri-Delts. "I have to go and exploit some women in the name of grief, which I'm sure you understand." Damon is ready for round two with thighs, wrists, and neck lol. Damon feels the need to investigate Alaric. Distraction is how he deals with loss. When Katherine rips his heart out in season 2, he investigates the Lockwoods. When Elena chooses Stefan in 3x22, he investigates Connor. Because he knows he didn't compel Alaric, he at least knows Alaric is on vervain. It's not just about the investigation for Damon, it's about the fight he believes is inevitable, and mourning is a great time to pick a fight.

It's at this point that a member of their vampire-killing founders council is working for a vampire. That the very sheriff of Mystic Falls is working for Damon lol. Liz is about to dig up some info on Alaric for Damon. Forget about Damon offering his help, Liz is now offering hers.

Isobel's man rings Trudie's doorbell and thanks her for the text. She's terrified, and given what she says at the end of this scene, it's because she believes he's a vampire. An easy assumption because Isobel is a vampire. "I didn't tell her anything. I - I kept my promise." I didn't know he'd kill Trudie, so this scene surprised me lol. This guy isn't a vampire. I don't even think he's a witch. I think he's a human like Isobel's other human pets. Harper is walking around town, seeing how much the world changed in 145 years. Talk about shock. He catches sight of another tomb vampire, which I think is Frederick's girlfriend. I don't remember ever seeing them kiss, so idk. Harper avoids her as if he doesn't like her.

"I have to go and exploit some women in the name of grief, which I'm sure you understand." I wanted to gif this entire scene while jumping off Damon's initial comment. Click to view them larger if you want. "Exploit" means to make use of, which can be good or bad. It depends on the exploitation. Whenever Damon is in scene with Elena, expect it to be humanity-driven. He shifts while getting dressed for the fundraiser, differentiating Elena and the Tri-Delts.

"Better. Me." Damon pre-Katherine is the better man, that's why I feel he can get away with comments like this. Sweet, politce, innocent, earnest to a fault. This is how Stefan and Katherine describe 1864 Damon. "Dashing? Gorgeous? Irresistible?" Damon is fishing for compliments and offering her options. He does this while closing the distance between them. Damon is the type of person that won't talk to you from across the room when he can stand right in front of you. He hovers over her because he's mourning Katherine. She doesn't push him away, she simply pulls herself out of the way. Even though Damon knows and accepts she's not Katherine, she's Katherine's doppelganger. This is where his comment in 1x3 belongs. "She was beautiful. A lot like you in that department." He hasn't fallen for Elena yet, but he's attracted to her for that reason. Elena won't give him the kind of compliment he wants. Like he did with Stefan, Damon is shrugging off his pain like it's no big deal. He self-medicates with alcohol rather than talks to someone about how he feels. I can tell by his speech that he's just as drunk in this scene as he is in 2x1. Have a Miley Cyrus moment...

Elena: Wrecked. You look wrecked. Damon: No reason why. ♪ I came in like a wrecking ball I never hit so hard in love All I wanted was to break your walls All you ever did was wreck me ♪

Damon tells her he's one of Mystic Falls' most eligible bachelors. She's surprised by this because he's mourning Katherine and about to get a bachelor date. Again, the difference between Alaric and Damon is time. This fundraiser is natural for Alaric because he's had time to mourn Isobel, to the extent that he's building a relationship with Jenna. For Damon, the fundraiser is just a distraction from the pain.

"Never better. Yep." He lies about how he's doing. Like Stefan's bloodlust, Damon's humanity is written like addiction. The first step is admitting his feelings, and he's not ready for that. "What can I do for you? I'm a barrel of favors today. It's my newfound purpose - how can I help people?" Damon should be pissing and moaning. I wouldn't blame him if he did, he simply doesn't. He's being honest in his feeling that it's his newfound purpose to help people.

Everyone should be helping Damon during his mourning process, but they're not. He's helping them. That's why I'm altogether bothered by everyone in this episode. Stefan knows he's unstable right now because of Katherine and is doing absolutely nothing to help him through it. He'd rather ask for Damon's help than help him, and this is despite him knowing for fact that Damon is lying and needs his help.

The helper wants help, that's what this Delena scene is about. There's… something about dressing someone that's just as sexy as undressing them, so even though they just solidified their relationship, this scene is sexy. Technically, Damon is exploiting her caring nature, and doing it to fufill an emotional need. He wants to be cared for like their hug in 1x14, to feel cared for because Katherine knew where he was and she didn't care. The best way for him to be cared for, is to pretend he's too drunk to button his own shirt. He has no doubt she'll help him because she's a caring person. Note how Damon doesn't hug her back in 1x14. He's the same way in this scene. It's all her, and it's intimate.

Elena's heart has to be viewed in two ways to see their love triangle throughout the show. Physically, it pumps blood filled with oxygen and nutrients to all parts of her body... and it can easily stop beating. It's also an emotional organ that feels everything, can fall and un-fall... and it's just as breakable. Stefan consumes her blood, Damon consumes her emotion. In this scene, he's feeding on her care rather than her blood like he did with the Tri-Delts. That's how Damon "consumes" Elena. Damon pretending he can't button his own shirt just to get her to help him is no different than Stefan pretending he's human just to get her to date him. This is their slow burn ship in action. Like I said, this scene is about the helper wanting help. Wanting help and outright asking Elena for it.

Damon: What can I do for you? I'm a barrel of favors today. It's my newfound purpose - how can I help people? Damon: Help a guy out, will you? Can't get this.

Elena tries to talk to Damon about her biological mother. "Eccch. Who cares?" She's offended by his response because she takes it the wrong way. Because he realizes she took it the wrong way, he feels the need to extend it. Who cares because she left you. Who cares because she sucks.

This is Damon hiding his care for Elena in Stefan's care for Elena… "Stefan will come after you, you know that. For messing with Elena." This is Damon expressing his Katherine-abandonment through Elena's Isobel-abandonment… "She left you. She sucks."

Elena is checking out Damon through this entire scene, and it's kinda hard not to. When she enters the room, he's walking around without a shirt and his pants are lowered for full view of his love handles and yum-yum trail. That's such an old term, but yeah… I think it'd be weird if she didn't check him out. Her eyes are drawn to his lips as he talks to her. That's when Stefan walks in and throws her off-guard. She didn't expect to be caught in this position, so intimate with Damon. "Uhh. I need a bigger jacket. Wow. You know, an occasional sorority girl might, um... you know, help fill you out a little bit." He tells Stefan that if he fed on Tri-Delts, he'd need a bigger jacket too. This is the comment Elena takes offense to, the reason she tells Stefan, "Maybe this heartache will be good for him. It'll remind him that he has one, even if it doesn't beat." She's offended by Damon's feeding on humans and making light of it. His humanity is only for her. Because Stefan entered the room, his humanity is gone.

Because Damon likes being honest, he purposefully shows Elena that he had no problem buttoning his shirt. That's why she looks at him the way she does. He conned her into helping him. Stefan is upset over the fact that Elena went to meet Trudie by herself. He's so controlling that he acts like Elena needs a babysitter. He hands her the photo Alaric gave him and confirms for her that her mother is Alaric's wife. This would've been the best time for Stefan to come out with it. ALL of it. Like hey… I have to question Damon about your mother because he was caught feeding on her and they never found her body. Instead, he continues being secretive in an attempt to control the situation. "Listen, Elena, there's a lot about Isobel that Alaric can tell you, but I need you to hold off a little while before you talk to him." Rather than tell her the truth about Damon, he demands she hold off on talking to Alaric. They then do an intentional scene cut. While Stefan demands Elena hold off on talking to Alaric, Jenna suggests Alaric talk to Elena. This is where Alaric contradicts his earlier statement. He feels it's not a good idea to inform Elena about her mother. So not only is Stefan keeping this secret from her, Alaric is as well. "Where'd our girlfriend go?" It's easy to skew things with Damon, but I prefer not to. His comment isn't romantic context, but friendship context. While an honest and innocent comment, feeds their slow burn ship.

He didn't need a reminder, but look at his response here lol. Damon is drawn to all three (Katherine, Isobel, Elena) because of their Petrova fire. This is "Moth Damon" with "Petrova Fire" in 6x22 context...

♪ I'm on fire like a thousand suns I couldn't put it out even if I wanted to ♪

♪ These flames tonight Look into my eyes and say you want me, too Like I want you ♪

That's why Damon refers to the "ecitement" in Isobel's eyes. He has no idea he's drawn to flame, he just knows he's drawn to the excitement of it. I can't say the same of Stefan because I don't know if he's like Damon that way. John didn't send Isobel to him, he sent her to Damon specifically. While it is possible Stefan would've slept with Isobel, he wouldn't turn her into a vampire because he hates vampires.

So anyway… Stefan is being secretive and further tries to control the situation. Like the first time he questioned Damon, this moment here would've been the best time for Stefan to come out with it. ALL of it. Like hey… Isobel was Alaric's wife and Elena's mother and they never found her body. Did you kill her, turn her, or let her go? Rather than tell Damon that Alaric and Elena not only deserve to know, but need to know, Stefan tells him that he himself wants to know. Because Damon isn't stupid, he asks Stefan "who else" wants to know. Rather than answer him honestly, Stefan opts to ask Damon if he killed her. Because Stefan refuses to answer him honestly, Damon responds in kind. "Sorry. Don't know her." With dishonesty.

Matt's mother shows up to the fundraiser. "He found his rebound girl." Some of these parents are straight-up nasty, istg. It's one thing to not like someone your child is dating, another to be a child about it. In her desire to hate on Caroline, she's painting her son in a harsh light. If Caroline is his rebound girl, then Matt is using her to recover from losing Elena. Alaric walks away when Elena tries to talk to him about Isobel. I honestly can't be sure about him. Is he refusing to talk to Elena because Stefan told him to leave her out of this? tbh, Alaric doesn't seem like the type that would avoid her simply because Stefan demanded it.

Damon is flirting with Carol. She has no idea what he's selling her, that's how fantastic he is with alternate meanings. "I've got the big date planned. It's a romantic dinner, secluded spot - somewhere woodsy." Damon plans to eat and he wants Carol to rig the pot lol. "You know, a room full of women clamoring to win a date with me. Sounds tasty."

Liz interrupts his flirtation with her folder on Alaric. It's easy to understand his mindset at this point. Damon realizes that Alaric knows about vampires and has been investigating him. Specifically, investigating his involvement with Isobel's disapperance and presumed death. From his perspective, Alaric turned to Stefan to get answers about his wife. So Stefan is asking him questions that Alaric should be man enough to ask Damon himself. What could've been an appropriate conversation between two adults becomes a car collision. He's not gonna hand Stefan the answers Alaric wants, he's gonna hand them directly to Alaric. Damon basically views Alaric as a scared little bitch that's hiding behind Stefan, so he's gonna be a dick about it. Similarly, what could've been an appropriate conversation between two adults becomes a car collision. I'm talking about Delena. Damon has no idea Isobel is Elena's mother, and Elena has no idea about Damon's involvement with her mother. Because of Stefan's secrecy and need to control the situation, Damon is about to reveal his involvement with Elena's mother, be a dick about his involvement, and do it in such a public way. This is your triple collision.

The writers wanted Alaric on stage with Damon because the intimate distance has a greater impact. Shoving the truth in Alaric's face while in his face… because Damon likes things up close and personal.

Carol: Do you have any hobbies, like to travel? Damon: Oh, yeah. L.A., New York. Couple of years ago, I was in North Carolina. Near the Duke campus, actually. I think - I think Alaric went to school there. Didn't you, Ric? Yeah, 'cause I - I know your wife did. I had a drink with her once. She was - she was a great girl. I ever tell you that? Cause she was - Delicious. Mmm! Mmm mmm mmm.

This entire scene jumps back to their first convo in 1x12.

Alaric: You, uh - you live here your whole life? Damon: On and off. Travel a bit. Alaric: Really? Where? Around the states? Heh. I'm sorry. I'm nosy. I… I don't mean to pry. Look, it was nice meeting you.

Talk about alternate meanings. Jenna has no idea why Elena is upset because she has no idea vampires exist. Elena rushes out and Stefan follows. I view things differently than Elena does. I want to know why she's protecting Stefan. She just got done flipping her car because he was lying to her and keeping secrets, and here he is with the same crap. Rather than confront him about his lies like she did Katherine, she's focused solely on what Damon did to Isobel because she's her mother. It boggles my mind how Elena ignores the obvious... Stefan is not gonna stop lying to her. Anyway, this is your 1x11 parallel…

Elena: Oh, my god. Stefan. Stefan: I know. I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you. But I just - I wanted to know more. Elena: You could have told me. Stefan: I wanted to tell you.

They make it clear that Carol doesn't like Mrs. Donovan.

This is Donovan's bachelor, the plumber. Her sex with men isn't the reason I consider her trash, it's the way she treats other people. She continues being nasty with Caroline.

"Okay, just stop. Stop trying so hard. This thing you're doing, this nice thing, it's fake. Like you. Like your mom. And for some reason, Matt fell for it, but that doesn't mean that I will. I don't like you, okay? So tell plumber boy I'll be at the bar."

I can take personal insults, but it's best not to insult my mother. If I were Caroline, Donovan would have a broken nose. I hate Caroline in earlier seasons, but start to like her around season 5. That's not to say I don't like some of her scenes. I do. But there are certain things I don't like about her. When I was her age, I was the type of person that would've kicked her ass in high school. But I'm an adult and nothing like Donovan. This woman is literally trashing tf out of a young, teen girl. Better to offer Caroline advice than trash her. Donovan is character proof that being ugly on the inside makes you ugly on the outside. This right here is one "good" man...

He cares that he hurt Elena and outed his truth this way. Their run-in scene is written opposite their shirt-buttoning scene, and plays on the intimate distance they had. Thank Stefan for Damon's truth coming out the way it did. He created a collision in his desire to control the situation, that's why I consider A Few Good Men an anti-Stefan episode. Even though Damon is written as the "bad" brother, he would've handled this in a good way had he been given the truth. "Am I missing something here?" While Stefan views Damon as an ass, I view Stefan as one because he knowingly kept these truths from Damon and Elena. In her anger with Damon, Elena is completely glossing over the fact that Stefan lied to her - again. But as I often say, she's written to love Stefan blindly and recklessly. Damon can be a dick, but he's not a complete dick. He feels what he did to Elena, and he hates himself for it. Stefan and Elena are approached by Isobel's man, and we're given the basics. Isobel is like Damon, both abiding Cade's sentiment. "Never meeting her was the only way to protect her." The man's "Do you understand?" lines are specific to compulsion. As I said earlier, this guy comes off like one of Isobel's human pets. Now I have Otep on the brain.

♪ I need new voices in my head to speak my secret evils with I need new lovers in my bed to be my friends and special pets ♪

After killing Trudie and delivering his message to Elena, Isobel's man steps into traffic. A compelled self-sacrifice. It appears Isobel is a lot like Katherine in the fact that she hates loose ends, and those loose ends are human. Elena takes his cell phone, which is written opposite Harper at the open of the episode. Jenna won her bachelor date with Alaric and Carol won her bachelor date with Damon. I have no doubt these wins were rigged by Carol, and rigged as Damon suggested. He skips out on his bachelor date with Carol for two reasons. He's upset with how things transpired between him and Elena, and he questions Katherine's connection to Isobel. Alaric skips out on his bachelor date with Jenna because he's about to ignore Stefan's warnings. They pull another flashback for Isobel. "Maybe I don't want to. Maybe I want more." As I said before, they have a lot of "more" dialogues for their vampires. A compassionate person would be "more" compassionate as a vampire.

Matt brings his mother home, clearly too drunk for her plumber date. "It's Pete. He's gone, and it's all my fault. I did it. I always do it." This is why she hops up on Damon, they're rebounds for each other. She passes out on the couch. The Katherine-Isobel fake death parallel...

"You were supposed to mourn me and move on." "You were my wife and I loved you."

There are more parallels for them, but this is enough. Damon is left with the understanding that Stefan was keeping secrets from him and Elena. She didn't know about his involvement with Isobel, and he didn't know that Isobel was her mother. It's because of this, Damon feels he may have assumed things about Alaric. It's the one thing Alaric doesn't know, but should. Damon has been mourning Katherine. The whole Alaric vs Damon in this episode is time. Alaric has a planned date with Jenna because he's had time to mourn Isobel. Damon's wounds are fresh, raw and real... and his emotions are magnified because he's a vampire. Alaric doesn't know this. He assumes Damon's instability, not knowing it's his most dangerous mode. While Stefan could've been open and honest with Alaric, he chose not to be. So Alaric is walking in with the intent to kill Damon while Damon is still somewhat mourning the loss of his own wife so to speak. Because he has a new understanding, Damon offers Alaric an out. "Are you really this stupid?" Alaric refuses to take it. Damon offers him a second out. "You gonna put down the stake?" Alaric refuses to take it. He probably wouldn't be this upset if not for Damon's actions on the fundraiser stage, but this collision is written alongside Delena's. Damon was genuinely trying to remedy the situation, but because Alaric refused to put down the stake, Damon shifted to being a dick.

For the same reason I don't blame Damon for threatening to turn Elena, I don't blame him for killing Alaric. People "warn" to protect. The only difference between Damon's two assaults is the person he's defending. With Elena, he was defending Katherine. With Alaric, he was defending himself. Elena only got one warning. Watch Damon kill Alaric because he ignored Stefan's six warnings…

"If you're here for revenge, this is going to end very badly for you." "Damon can never know why you're here. He'll kill you without blinking." Alaric: I can take care of myself. Stefan: No, you can't. I can help you. If you let me. "Damon is not stable right now." "I'm telling you not to push this." "Your survival. How's that for a reason? I'll handle it, but for now, I need you to let it go."

This is the warning Stefan gave him that matters here... "No, you can't. I can help you. If you let me." It's the Gilbert ring that "helps" protect Alaric from Damon. Stefan giving Alaric the truth would've been better protection. "Ah, this is a shame. We're kindred spirits, abandoned by the women we love. Unrequited love sucks." Damon is being genuine here, and it's a shame on Stefan and Alaric. It's all parallel... In 1x13, Elena put her trust in Stefan. In 1x15, Alaric put his trust in Stefan. "Fool me once, shame on you."

This is why Damon has to break Elena's sire bond in season 4... "Unrequited love sucks." Her love has to be real or not at all. If he wanted a fake girlfriend, he'd compel himself one. Damon sits on the couch and watches Alaric die. He's not enjoying it, he's full of wonder. Elena wasn't the only reason he skipped out on his date with Carol. He believes Katherine may have sent Isobel to him… just like Lily sent Oscar to him. After all, he now knows the three of them are Petrovas.

Stefan walks in to see Alaric dead on the floor. "What happened? What did you do?" Like Damon's response to Stefan in 1x6… the real question is, "No, what did you do?" This is what happens when Stefan keeps secrets in his desire to control a situation. "Do what? He attacked me." Just as Damon fed on Vicki and her friends to survive desiccation in 1x6, he killed Alaric to survive the stake in his hand. "Like you've been handling Katherine?" Stefan is in the wrong for saying this. Seriously. He never once tried to help Damon through his mourning process, never once offered to help him "handle" Katherine. This is despite knowing Damon needed help. Instead, he selfishly spent the entire episode questioning Damon about Isobel, and now has the nerve to spit this crap out of his mouth. Unbelievable. What's just as unbelievable, is the fact that Stefan shows more concern for Alaric than he does his own brother… that's how messed up he is. With Alaric dead on the floor, you'd think Stefan learned a lesson, but no. "Stop it. You don't have to keep looking." This line is Stefan's new secret that he's keeping from Damon. "Stop looking. She doesn't want to know you. She doesn't want to talk to you. You need to stop looking."

Stefan automatically assumes Damon turned Alaric simply because he came back to life. Damon literally just got done telling him that he killed Alaric in self-defense, like what? Stefan is an absolute idiot. While yes, it doesn't make sense that Alaric is alive…. Damon isn't the only vampire in existence. It would've made more sense for Stefan to question who turned him, not automatically assume Damon did. "You must have vampire blood in your system. Somebody slipped it to you." That somebody didn't have to be Damon, but that's how Stefan is. He hates on Damon every chance he gets.

Even though Isobel chose a different life, she loved Alaric enough to protect him with a Gilbert ring before she left. Because of Isobel's man, Elena knows she's alive and attempts to talk to her on the phone. Isobel hangs up on her because as I've said before, she lives by Cade's words. She doesn't want a vampire in Elena's life, and she's a vampire. Harper shows up at Pearl's house. I'm sure some left town, but the tomb holding 26 vampires is now Pearl's house holding 26 vampires.

[unsleepingtales]

Burrow's End Episode 2 Reactions!

Ok so I watched this spread out over last night and this morning and now I'm in a Great mood for class! This episode was so good though. Really really truly this is wonderful and I love this season.

She thought they would have greater numbers?? Aabria you’re the one who wrote it what do you mean

Erika’s character look is so cool

Electricity?

That is what mothers are like yeah.

I don’t know about every stoat in the world being able to harness lightning magic but sure okay

This line of thinking from Tula feels very in line with what Brennan’s talked about in the past of it always being valuable for someone to have basic needs in mind, and it making everything easier and more enjoyable when those things are considered first.

Oooh paladin things!

This season is going to fuck me up incredibly badly and it’s not even going to be the sad shit it’s just going to be the parent/child interactions.

It hurts to be awake because it’s all I ever think about and there are no answers. So real.

Ava is so good to watch

Every time it cuts to Erika-

Ugh I love dnd so much

Every time Brennan gets a nat1 he kind of hides behind it lol

Tula has a -1 to arcana???

Love to see the weird british things counter return

Cageyyyy

Bear nearby and bear has small friends?

BATTLE MAP BATTLE MAP

THE WHOLE MAP IS A BEAR

Vampire chipmunk??? What the fuck what the fuck what the fuckkkk

WHAT

Ok oh my gif the threatening energy in “Oh, you didn’t beat me.”

WHAT THE FUCK OH MY GOD WHAT I HATE THAT WHAT

I hate it I hate it I hate it no god please no

ON THE DOME TOO??

Izzy is so right about the magic school bus thing

My soul shoots straight out of my ass, into hell. 🙂.

This is so unpleasant to look at

This does not feel proportional but it’s fine this is fine

HOW IS THIS BEAR ALIVE

Erika is so good at being The Old Lady

Be better!!

So help me I will turn this bear around!

Oh my god

I get that the heart beating is important to convey that the bear is still alive but jesus

There’s literally enough bear already.

Parasitic chipmunks nesting inside a bear. Good lord.

God I keep looking at the projection. That’s so unsettling.

Bad! This feels bad!

Oh my GOD

What oh god please no

What a brilliant episode to be watching while I have breakfast

I’m so curious if the bear’s actions are legendary actions or lair actions

Oh that was such a new york mother voice

That was literally a commercial break. The Iyengar-Mulligan bit. That was a comic relief commercial break

Horrible!!!

Eraser destroying power couple lmao

Like a stoat!

As an experienced babysitter I can confirm. Eight year olds are strong and it is because they don’t know they are. Being punched by an eight year old fucking hurts.

They’re taking the Alvin thing so far and it’s incredible

Ava WHAT are you doing

Oh I had a physical reaction to that. That was so unpleasant.

You think you’ve got this (threatening)

(Aabria laughs at the nerve of this play)

I love seeing my own table dynamics reflected in others. Because this wild swinging from hysterical laughter to jaw dropping horror is exactly what happened literally four days ago in my current game.

If your spine isn’t working store bought is fine

I dislike this strongly

She’s in the medulla oblongata! (Mentopolis)

FUCK YEAH LILA

Oh my god Aabria

Terrifying right now but like I’m a fun way

Just a lil blood soaked guy

I really appreciate how Aabria always mentions who’s up next so they can prep

I love doing things that potentially have great consequences just to see what it would do.

Oh we’re in blue again ok

What a wild thing to be happening right now

Oh good god

Do NOT eat it

What oh god what the fuck are you doing

MID COMBAT LEVEL UP???

Oh ok.

No I don’t believe that they’re dead- well, they don’t look great…

Pick your one favorite organ

The devil inside my child’s head!

Level up eyyy

What a visual

And also to you :)

Oh my god

Ok! What a time. Wow.

[palmofafreezinghand]

For Fanfic Writers' Ask: #7, #32, #35 and with that intriguing tag, #42 if no one else has also asked you about it! Seeing as you forced me to think about it and it turned out I had an answer however much I do not like the answer...

Thank you, @gisellelx !

Is there a character or ship you'd love to write for, but haven't yet? 

Renesmee. I’ve written her in the background of things but I really want to attempt to write her with more of a voice and discernible personality. I also really want to write about Emmett, but I have yet to find a plot or character question that feels right. I think he’s so fascinating and will probably be a fun challenge to write. 

And I’ve written for them before but I really want to write more of Rosalie and Esme’s dynamic. It's one of the more difficult ones for me but that’s what makes it fun. 

What's a fic you'd love to write, but probably never will? 

I think human!vampire alternate universes can be very fun to read and I have outlined a handful of scenes — most an attempt to see how far I can push Carlisle’s selfishness — and rough storylines but I doubt I will ever finish a whole story. 

There’s one specific plot outline I think of often of a 1927 alternate universe where Edward still leaves, I have yet to figure out the inciting incident or how to get him to leave, Carlisle accidentally runs into a human Esme (who’s son survived in 1921) in a small town he was passing through while wandering aimlessly. She’s going by a different name, as is he, his curiosity is piqued, he knows better than to stay after she recognized him and yet, he’s mad, grieving, impulsive, and slightly curious and in turn makes a very stupid decision. He’s already a “selfish monster” right, what’s the harm?  There’s so many hurdles and character choices that would have to be done just right to make the whole situation even slightly plausible that I doubt I will ever write it but I think about it a lot. 

What's your fic with the saddest ending? 

I think Sarah Bee has the saddest ending, although Oh Bill, I love you so… gives it a run for its money. 

Bride of Cullen gets an honorable mention. 

How do you get over writer's block? 

Anyone waiting on for appearances’ sake (last updated September 10, 2022) or a language of our own (last updated June 28, 2022) would argue I do not. 

In all seriousness I am starting to become fine with letting stories collect dust. I used to feel guilty but the fact I spent last month finishing up ideas I first jotted down two years ago is forcing me to begrudgingly come around to the idea that my interest in this series and fanfiction as a whole may ebb and flow but is not disappearing anytime soon. I do, however, now refuse to post anything incomplete on ao3. 

A few things (I think) help me get over writer’s block: 

I do really well with deadlines, this is probably because I’m only a few months removed from the cycle of writing thousands of words hours before 11:59 PM  that was college, but deadlines still work for me. I hadn’t written more than a few thousand words, which took weeks, from August to November, and then in November I wrote 30,000 because I had a self-imposed deadline of writing that many that month. Twilight Advent for example has forced me to finish two stories I was completely stuck on for years in a manner of hours the evening before they were slated to be posted. 

If I have not written in a while and I think of something for a current WIP, I do not allow myself to resume writing in the document. I can make notes but if I want to add to an already written section I have to retype it, which usually forces me into seeing a flaw I didn’t previously notice and makes me feel like I’ve written more new words than I have and encourages me to keep going. Sometimes I’ll retype a story even if I don’t have any ideas on how to better the draft or have any desire to write and it’ll force some words loose. 

I reread past stories. I have this bad habit of dropping references to things I believe have happened to these characters in the past without having a corresponding story written. Sometimes reminding myself of those little references will force my mind into thinking of another plot. 

Accepting I’m not writing (for fun) for a while and diving into other hobbies instead.  I can only crochet, cross stitch, hike, quilt, etc. so much before I think of some snippet of dialogue I must write down. Sometimes it takes a few months but I figure if that happens the break is needed.

But I think the biggest thing for me is ironically disconnecting from fandom. I’m unsure if this is simply a social media killing our brains kind of thing or I can’t write well if I’m thinking about dozens of other people’s thoughts on these characters and plot lines, but I seem to finally sit down and write when I’ve been logged out of Tumblr and ao3 for a little bit. 

ask a writing question!