#louis de pont du lac oneshot

[random-imagines-blog]

Oneshot Requests Closed

I’m temporarily closing oneshot requests, as a lot have piled up and I need to play catch-up again. Thanks for being patient with me everyone!

As of right now, these are the requests I’m going through.

[1] Nicholas Garrigan [1] Jaqen H’Ghar [1] Jaime Lannister [1] Kit Walker [1] Dean Winchester [1] Gerard Way [1] Aragorn [1] Eomer [1] Jonathan Crane [1] Lt Hiram Coffey [2] Arthur - Inception [1] Adam Stanheight {2 Parter) [1] Captain Hook [2] Arthur Curry [1] Tyrion Lannister [1] Michael Emerson [1] Rick Flag [1] Lost Boys [5] Lestat [1] Marvel Cast [1] Henry Wu [1] Thor [1] Louis de Pont du Lac

[random-imagines-blog]

Walk Among the Dead {Louis de Ponte du Lac Oneshot}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2414 Summary: A brooding vampire cannot take his eyes off you. How are you going to hold that attention?

It was your dancing which had caught his eye. You were making a display of yourself, seemingly so alive in this decrepit city. The smile on your face was large, like you were genuinely happy, something that Louis had not felt in a long time. But more than jealousy, you were triggering something else inside of those hollow bones of his. A longing thirst that came from deep within. He could see the blood running through the veins of your neck, the pulsing point, every single breath. He started to salivate, thinking of the sweet blood that must be coursing through you. Making it’s way to your face as you sweated in exertion but kept on going. The tangy, salty smell came from all of the humans, but yours was the only one that was enticing.

Louis sat in the darkness, watching. Wishing that he could be like you. Be like all of the humans once again, living without knowing what or who it was that went walking in the night. Able to drink wine, able to eat real food. Not living off of rats in the sewers, disgusting little things. Or killing the pretty little dogs of rich women. Look at them. All of their bodies squashed together like fish in a barrel, just ripe for the taking. But he only wanted you.

His eyes followed as you escaped from the throng, pushing hair out of your face, laughing with glee and adrenaline. You were coming in closer. He retreated further into the darkness. Leaning back against his chair. Becoming one with it. ‘Do not see me, do not see me’ he whispered as quietly as he could, barely able to hear himself, but keeping the sentiment and the power in his voice. But it did not work. You continued on in your trajectory towards him, bending down just a little.

“Why do you sit in the shadows?” You asked him, offering your hand. He could see the lines across your palm; the life line, the love line, on full display in front of his eyes. The wrist with it’s delicate veins just below. Nails short, dirty - but everyone’s were these days. It was a filthy town, New Orleans. Not like his own nails which were long, pointed, pristine. So obviously different from everyone elses. “Come join the dance with us. Do not be shy. We’re all friendly here.”

“But I am not,” Louis said, getting to his feet without your help. He intended to walk away but that hand kept enticing him. Even as he stood, cloaked in black, your hand was reaching out for him. Like a lifeline. Like you were ready to pull him back into the human world that he craved more than he craved blood. So he faltered. Like a coward, he stood there, unable to brush past you. To reject you. “I cannot dance with the others,” He told you, stiffly.

“So then dance with me!” You said, brightly. Your smile reminded him of the last sunrise that he had ever seen. The bright glow of it, eliminating everything that was dark and dreary on the landscape. And though his tongue poked at the fangs that were threatening to emerge in his mouth, though he felt the point craving your skin, he accepted, slipping his cold hand into yours. “It’s like touching a ghost, mister!” You exclaimed.

“I apologize,” He said, retreating, but you kept hold of his hand, holding it in both of yours now, trying to warm it up with your own body heat. He admired you for trying. Especially when you brought it up to your lips and blew your warm breath on it. Nothing would work. He knew that. But he thought for just a second that it might. “It is a condition, I’m afraid. There is nothing to be done.”

“Well, it was worth a try,” You said, still smiling, not allowing yourself to be discouraged. She let go with one hand so it was only one holding his own, fingers intertwined. “This is the part where you put your arm around my waist, sir.”

“It’s been a long time,” Louis admitted. He did occasionally dance with Lestat, the blonde haired brat prince, but he rarely took the lead in that one. Ever since he had met the vampire, he’d had the spiralling sense that he had no control over anything. And even though you were telling him what he should do, he was starting to feel a little ... bold? Like he could handle such a thing as a dance. He could be alright for just one, surely.

He moved his arm so that it was around your waist. He could feel the warmth of your blood through your clothing, you might as well have not been wearing any. Alone, secluded, a light breeze bringing the scent of your hair, of your skin to his nostrils. His mouth was watering at the closeness. It was so dark back here, he could have just a bite. And you tilted your head so perfectly, your neck all exposed...

“What’s your name, stranger?” You asked, snapping him out of his thirsty thoughts.

“Louis,” He said, slowly. He did not know at that moment that he would never again know a second’s peace. Your face would be plaguing his mind day after day, minute after minute, starting before he had ever known your name.

“A face like that should not be hiding away in a dark corner,” You said, pressing in close, chest to chest. The music was lively, and you were spinning with him, laughter echoing through his ears.

“Nor should yours,” He said back to you. Your laughter sounded like wind chimes in a breeze, enough to tickle the brain but not overpower his thoughts. He wished that it had - your blood was calling, calling - singing. He can’t take it anymore. The thirst is too overwhelming, it’s making his head spin. You gasped as  he let go of you midspin, sending you flying into the chair that he had recently vacated, but he did not look back. Instead, he walked quickly through the other couples, disappearing in the blink of an eye into a dark alleyway, searching for rats or perhaps an alley-cat to quench his thirst.

-

You were the most alive person that he had encountered in a very long time, but you haunted him nonetheless. Every night at sundown, as he awoke inside of his tomb-like coffin, he grew restless, looking over at the door every few seconds. Fighting against himself, jittering, until he would finally take the steps and leave the house, returning to where he had met you. He did not sit in the shadows this time, but stood in them, dwelled within them, disappeared entirely into them, only a flicker of his bright eyes occasionally seen, and thought to be that of an animal prowling. You came out often here to dance, and to socialize. But what was more interesting to him was the fact that though others had sat in the seat you had once pulled them from, you did not ask them to dance. You seemed to stick to a small group of people, rarely if ever deviating from it.

Interesting.

On one rather chilly night, as the fall was turning to winter and the nights were getting longer in this humid city, he attempted to sneak out as he usually had, but was caught this time. Your hand was upon his arm, making him freeze in place. “Hello Louis,” You said, pleasantly. “I thought you had forgotten all about this place.”

Your smile was more radiant up close than it ever had been from afar. He found himself at a loss for words. His plumped lips tried to form an apology but his voice would just not project. You laughed, but it didn’t feel like it was at him. It broke the tension and he found himself smiling. Lestat would not have believed his eyes if he had seen it. “I apologize,” He said. You nodded, expecting that.

“Well, don’t  sneak out without giving me a dance,” You coaxed, moving your hand down his arm to entwine your fingers together.

“Okay,” He said, simply, and gave your hand a squeeze. God, just that motion alone, bringing blood rushing through your veins, was enough to make him begin to salivate. But this time, he did not run, nor did he push you away. He danced with you, he spun you, he even dipped you once, making your head fall back, your neck all exposed. You were absolutely beautiful. More divine than anyone he had ever seen before.

He could not help himself. Better than the heartiest of perfumes, he could smell your blood as you came back in close. Your hair lightly blew towards him as the breeze came from behind, pushing it forward, forward, along with the scent. His lips were at your throat. You were giggling again, your shoulder raising. “You’re tickling me,” You said, lightly attempting to push it away. And he accepted it with horror, thinking of what he had nearly just done. He wanted to run again, wanted to find a cat, a dog, an elephant even, to quench his thirst. It would be so easy to break from your grip, physically easy. But he was finding it to be impossible as you caught him in your glance. “Are you going to run from me again?”

“Not this time.”

-

Eventually, Louis invited you to his home. The one that he had shared with Lestat. The more confidence and suave vampire didn’t affect you as much as he clearly would have liked to, since it seemed you only had eyes for the brunette with the sullen face. Over the course of the next couple of days, you spent quite a bit of time together. Courting, was how you had told your friends about it. But one night, things had gotten a little out of hand. You had been drinking wine together, and it was bringing a lot of blood to your face, tinting it ever so slightly in a deep red beneath your skin tone. His thirst had grown so immense that when he went in to give you a peck on the cheek, it did not end there. Your breathy moans made him both aroused and famished. And he could not help himself. His fangs extracted. They buried themselves into your skin.

The shock of it made you gasp, and you began to fall limp in his arms as he took more and more - only stopping once he realized what he was doing. You had fallen into his arms,a few ruby red drops coming from the new wounds in your throat.  He checked on you, fingers on your pulse point - your heartbeat was still strong, and your eyes blinked back open. “What happened?” You asked, looking about you.

And he opened up, despite his fears, despite the secrecy that he knew that he had to live under for the rest of his existence. And you - incredible, incredible you, listened. You looked more cautious than fearful, fingers tapping at the pinpricks that were on your neck. He had not gone too far, nor too deep. You looked like you felt a little faint, but not too much worse than that. After seeing Lestat’s constant victims, he had feared the worst for you. “Are you alright?” He asked after he had finished his speech, the night coming to a close.

“Yes, just a little light-headed,” You admitted. “So, my love Louis-” If he had a heart still beating in his chest, he knew that it would have raced at just that sentence alone. At being called your love. “You need to take better care of yourself. You are going to live forever, you must stick with the upkeep.”

“That would require hurting people, killing people y/n. I cannot accept that.”

“Then accept me. Accept what you had just done to me and let me help you. It didn’t hurt as much as you think that it did. In fact...” You moved in closer to him. He became more scared of you in that moment than you were of him. You held all the power in your hands. He felt like he was the mere mortal one under your touch. Under the kiss that you pressed onto the corner of his lips. “It was pleasurable. And tomorrow night, I will come back, and you can do it again.”

“You can’t!” Louis protested. “I may lose control, I may hurt you. I would not be able to live with myself if I were to ever do anything like that to you. No, you cannot see me again-”

“If that is what you really want,” You said sadly, backing away, hands resting on your lap. “But I am willing to take the risk, for you.”

-

Over the next couple of months, you two saw one another regularly. He would bring you to the house at times when Lestat was out partying, or hunting, or doing whatever it was that Lestat did. You were his, and his alone. He didn’t want you getting caught up in that sadist’s schemes. He might attempt to change you, the way that he did with him. You became not only his cup, sipping just a tantalizing mouthful, but his lover as well. He began to fall in love.

His way of thinking became changed. Surely he could not be damned if he felt this way still. Surely he could not be a monster if he had your affection, your love. You reassured him of that the more that you saw him, stroking his pale cheeks. “You are an enigma, Mr. De Ponte Du Lac,” You would tell him. “A true angel in the flesh. My angel.”

And he would tell you the same things. “You have brought me back to life, mon amour,” He would whisper into your ear, before he would take that bite of your flesh.

And one of these days, perhaps, if he thought that you were ready for it, he may just offer you the gift of immortality, something that he never thought he would burden another person with. But it hardly seemed like a curse if you would be by his side.