keep breathing like this forever

“You know that’s bull, dude! You killed those kids; I know you did! But-”, he paused, exhaling in a mixed attempt to calm his anger and quell any further tears that may fall. One more exhale, and his voice came out strained. “-I forgive you.”, it was hard to say, but it was true; Andrew was one of the few people he’d ever slightly bend his moral code for; he was desperate.

I just want to be family again.”, another truth, much easier to say than the last.

He was still staring unfaltering at the camera, but this time, there was no more anger in his eyes; only a halfhearted attempt to seem stoic and strong.

#lastofatrinity #recording

[ andrew thinks he has everything under control. he stands stoic and still through matt’s words, feet set and shoulders squared, knuckles white on his fists and jaw locked tight -- until matt says he forgives him and his will falls apart. latent human emotions betraying him, he finds tears rolling down his cheeks before he can stop them. his shoulders shake, his lips tremble. he finds, with a paralyzing wave of horror, that he feels much more like the weak seventeen-year-old human kid he was when he knew matt than the powerful immortal he’s supposed to be.

overwhelmed and overcome, he allows this re-realized part of himself to take over and sway his resolve. matt may not know everything about him and what he’s done, but if he knows he’s killed people and can still forgive him, he really does care. and even though andrew knows he’s beyond saving, he knows he’s beyond help, he can’t bring himself to turn away the only remaining human whose love actually means anything to him -- the only one he couldn’t bring himself to kill. and so, without really knowing what he’s doing or why, he steps forward and grabs matt’s hand in a superhuman blur of movement, his grip cold and tight on his wrist. his voice is wavering between stern and desperate as he urges, ]

Come with me.

Matt wouldn’t open his eyes for anything, couldn’t even look at Andrew now; all he could do was hope that he could see his point of view, understand why he wanted to him to stay. From seeing the charred remains of his cousin’s own house, to bones in the ash, Andrew reported missing and classmates found dead; he had a wild ride to graduation he hardly made, and he made it all alone. There were always whispers of him being suspect, a killer on the loose, ‘the quiet ones’, police questioning him, his family, there was no reprieve. He was left in the dust by his peers, almost everyone he used to know was afraid of him. ‘I can’t be alone anymore.’ He snapped back from his digressing thoughts, focusing to the best of his extent on the shift of Andrew’s tone, and he could still hear the faltering attempt at anger he put forward in it. The combination of remarks from Andrew were cold, and they froze him as soon as they were spoken, holding onto him tight and forcing him to put his guard up once more. He opened his eyes again, swallowing the hesitance and guilt to once again stare into the lens of Andrew’s camera with misty eyes. “I don’t have to do anything, Andrew!”, he snapped. “You say I ‘don’t know what you-’ what? What you did?”

He continued, the sudden burst of anger not dissipating, but instead melding seamlessly with his guilt and doubt. “I know what you did…I’m not stupid, okay? They even tried to blame me! I just, want to have something left god damnit!” He meant it, Andrew may have killed these people…but, he really was the last thing Matt had to hold on to. It made him almost disgusted-

-almost. But, it felt so much easier to forgive when it was Andrew.

#breathing #lastofatrinity

[ i know what you did, matt says. what does he think he did? kill a couple of bullies? andrew did more than kill them. and they were just the beginning. shaking his head, he does his best to restrain his own budding emotions, burying them with the cruelty he lives and feeds by. icily he tells him: ]

You don’t know anything, Matt.

[ he can still remember every bite and gush of blood that comprised the massacre of those first weeks, the massacre that matt apparently shouldered the suspicion for. he’s never regretted it before and he still doesn’t, but being in matt’s presence is reminding him of the human morality he once abided by, the human morality that he cast away when he first took a life out of both revenge and bloodlust. he hates that he feels guilty even though he doesn’t want to, doesn’t believe he has to. his voice shakes again when he speaks. ]

B-Because, if you did, you’d -- you wouldn’t want to be anywhere near me.

[ his voice lowers to a dangerous growl at the end, a barely veiled threat aiming to finally frighten matt away for good. he’s all but ejected his fangs by now, fingernails digging into the palm of his hand. ]

Too lost in his own emotions, Matt was a torrent of grief, anger and memories; unable to tell that Andrew had been faltering in his words. In his mind it was all childhood picnics, mud pies, laughs; video games pulled to the forefront in a vivid flash– –arguments, crying, comforting, car rides, inside jokes…and then distance. The distance. Fuck, it was his fault, wasn’t it? He tried…he fucking tried, he really did. He just couldn’t understand his cousin, could never wrap his brain about why he was so…emotional. But now, in this moment he had a chance to redeem himself… to try again, and he wasn’t going to let it slip away just like that; and he sure as hell wasn’t going to hear any of that ‘too late’ bullshit. “Stop. Just, shut up, okay?! It’s not too late! You’re here, I found you; you’re not leaving, Andrew. You- you don’t even know the half of it! Just, shut up and let me fucking help you! Look at you, you look homeless, you’re a fucking…you just…”, and like that, he lost his train of thought; not that he even knew where it was going in this state. Finally, he sobbed, chest heaving, eyes clenching, fists closed; the floodgates were open and he couldn’t be angry anymore…not even after it all. “L-look…don’t shut up…but just– just please don’t leave me…please, An’. I’ve…fuck– I missed you. I grieved you…don’t run away.”

#lastofatrinity #breathing

Y-You don’t understand, I’m not -- I’m not the same --

[ seeing matt break down in front of him, seeing him care so much about him after he’d convinced himself matt didn’t give a shit about him, is making it hard for andrew to do what he knows he has to -- get rid of him. his tone drops lower, darker, serious but still wavering with uncertainty. ]

You have no idea what I’ve --

[ his free hand balls into a tight, shaking fist, trembling as much as the hand that holds the camera and the voice in his throat, which falters between a hardened resolve and painful remorse and ultimately comes out as cold as the biting breeze that sweeps around them. ]

...You just have to let me go.

[ matt wouldn’t want to know what he is, what he’s become. he’s not the same shy emotional difficult kid from matt’s treasured memories. he’s changed, and if there’s one thing that’s certain it’s that there’s no going back to the way things were. ]

bogisms-blog

“Obviously. Not even a visit for your poor uncle Bo.” The monster said in a rather overdramatic tone, his forearm coming up to rest against his forehead in equal melodrama.

“Still being a little pain in the ass?”

#[ I LOVE BO IM CRYING ]#breathing #bogisms

[ andrew rolls his eyes, letting his gaze settle on his camera to avoid looking directly at bo. ]

Looks like you’re still being a big one.

“You don’t need me anymore,” she repeats to him in a low voice while she stares on with a furrowed brow, to make him doubly aware about what he’s telling her right now. Because it hurts, much more to consider maybe all she ever was good for was a reusable blood bag versus everything else she tried to do for him because she cared. And if there’s a couple tears falling from her eyes while she tries to keep herself placid, she can’t help it anymore. “You don’t want me anymore. Is that what you mean?”

He approaches her door and she stays where she is. She can’t make him stay if he doesn’t want to and she’s tired of begging. Begging for understanding, for respect and for kindness and support the one time she’s asked. He can leave if he wants, but if he steps out that door and never comes back, Darcy can’t say there won’t be a lasting ache in her heart. She could have been more upset right now too, but frankly she doesn’t have the strength left after Louis to let herself feel it.

“Because what I want is us to stay friends somehow. I thought that’s what I was to you, too.” A shrug and she licks her lips and cross her arms, eyes darting about. If food is ever all she was to him, then he could try and kill her right now. She knows that, but she needs him to understand the gravity of what he’s telling her. “I thought it’d be possible. But if you can’t do that, I’m sorry if I’ll never see you again. I do love you.” Words he probably doesn’t want to hear right now, but she needs him to know that if this is the last time she’s ever going to see him. She can’t be sure which it will be and unless he says otherwise, gives her proof, then she has no choice but to assume the worst of this.

“— A locksmith is changing the locks in two days. Not because of you. I, um… but– you’re still… welcome. You can still come at my door if you want to see me again.”

[ he freezes in his tracks when she speaks, camera held in one rigid hand and the other still fisted at his side. back turned to her, he allows his tears to fall silently down his cheeks, leaving his erratic shaking breath to be the only indication of his internal struggle as he listens to her repeat his words in a deathly quiet, deathly serious voice. no, he doesn’t need her anymore. truthfully, he hasn’t needed his bloodletters since he matured a year after his birth. the only reason he continued to take darcy’s blood at all was because he wanted to maintain the profound bond that they have as vampire and bloodletter -- a bond she seems just fine with throwing away. he’s a perfectly efficient hunter, now. he doesn’t need snacks like her.

fueled by a desire to hurt her feelings as much as she’s hurt his, he’s prepared to turn around and spit this at her -- but when she asks him what he wants, a whole different set of emotions rush over him. what he wants is for things to go back to the way they were. what he wants is to be able to show up at her door and know that behind it he can satisfy his torturous hunger in a place devoid of the anger and violence of hunting. what he wants is to feel her blood trickling down his throat and for her to run her fingers through his hair while it pumps through his veins. what he wants is for her to stay his.

the urge to reclaim her like he had on that fateful night overwhelms him and for a moment he turns back to look at her through hot wet tears while she speaks, asking if they can still be friends and telling him that she loves him and that he’s still welcome to come by if he wants to, just not for blood. each word stabs into his throbbing heart like the stakes he so fears and he wishes she would just yell at him, yell at him so he can yell back and get the release he knows he needs, allow him to let loose all the pain and anger that’s building in every fiber of his body. her quiet calmness and unwavering affection for him just hurts him more and he wonders if lucien was right all along, if there really is any point in getting attached to food when all it can bring is sorrow.

for a split second his instincts surge within him, dilating his pupils, and he considers just pouncing on her right then and there and taking back the blood that is supposed to be for him, draining her dry so she could be his and only his forever.

but he loves her, too. and that’s why, without another word or sound, he turns and leaves. ]

bogisms-blog

“But, still a baby. To me, anyway.”

“Aw. Did I miss your birthday?”

#[ lmao ]#breathing #bogisms

I was busy.

bogisms-blog

@breathdrawn

“Well now!” The monster said, with an uplift of eyebrows and a pleased grin spreading on his features. “If it isn’t my FAVORITE little newborn.”

#[ hi i kiss u ]#bogisms #breathing

I haven’t been a newborn for over a year.

Darcy stares at him, her eyes glistening with the tears threatening to roll down her cheeks and stain her skin. She’s trying not to let her lip quiver and merely pouts, attempting her hardest to keep her breath even despite the fast-beating heart. She didn’t want to hurt him and finds answering him out loud impossible. Darcy knows he won’t kill her, but it doesn’t ease her pain and it doesn’t make blood letting any easier, as hard as she tried the few times after that night. She continued to give blood anyway, but all it did was remind her about what almost happened time and time again. And, if she was honest, her trust in him wavered since.

“You did save me. I’m glad you did, but it doesn’t… change what happened.” The attack and what came after. Both were terrifying. And never mind protection; she doesn’t know quite how to tell him without inciting any of his rage that he can’t protect what he’s never around these days. Hasn’t been for months. “I know you’re sorry. And I am, too. That I can’t keep doing this for you. I just gotta do this for me, okay?” Darcy rubs at her eye and tucks her hair back, standing just a little straighter as she takes another breath, mindful of the dogs’ behavior. They’re watching, fur still on end and growls humming softly in their throat.

Then, she asks what she really wants to know: “Am I going to lose you? I don’t want to.”

#darcyiisms #breathing #[ GOD WHAT A DRAMA QUEEN ]

F-Fine.

[ andrew’s ragged breathing reaches its peak, and his whole body shakes with every inhale and exhale and all the effort it takes to keep himself from shouting his anger and hurt at her. instead he growls out, low and bitter: ]

Fine. I’m not -- I’m not a newborn anymore. I don’t need you anymore, anyway.

[ his shuddering breath catches in his throat as he glares at the dogs once more, hatred burning in his gaze. his jaw trembles, and as much as he tries to keep his tone biting and sharp, his voice cracks as he chokes: ]

And a-apparently -- you don’t need me.

[ he doesn’t want to cry in front of her, let her know how upset he is, but he knows she can read it on his face and the tears already running down it as he suddenly whips around toward the door from which he entered. ]

Darcy rolls her eyes, her chest heaving and shoulders drooping when he asks. Why did they keep insisting she explain herself? Why wasn’t it enough? Why wasn’t her choice and what she wanted ever enough? She never asked for much. She never asked for anything until now. She closes her eyes for a moment, trying to fight off the burn of the tears welling up in her eyes. Darcy doesn’t want to lose another friend or worse, find out she might have never had one in him.

“Things changed that night.” He ought to know which. She hopes he doesn’t make her have to describe it to him. And God, she hopes he doesn’t have to ask her why or what he did wrong. She doesn’t— she doesn’t need that. Not right now. “I tried to forget it but I can’t. Everything about it hurts, okay? Everything that happened. And I can’t keep on going as your blood letter. I really need you to try and understand that. And I need you to respect that. Please. Okay?”

[ darcy’s exasperation tests his patience, and he finds his fangs digging painfully into his bottom lip as he restrains the outburst building in his throat. he wishes she would just explain it to him. and then she invokes that night, and his anger turns into a lump of guilt he can’t swallow. he knows the night -- the night she was attacked by another vampire. the night he looks back upon proudly, but she has always been traumatized by... partly because of him. he couldn’t stop himself from reclaiming her by drinking her blood that night and he knows he scared her irrevocably. but it’s impossible for him to accept that this would be the thing that ended their bloodletting relationship, that it really was him who ruined everything, all while he was trying to save her. shaking his head again in refusal, he begins to stammer in a wavering voice as tears threaten to spill from the corners of his eyes. ]

D-Don’t you still trust me?

[ tone darkening, he reminds her, ]

I saved you. I-I can protect you.

[ he tosses a tearful scowl in the direction of the dogs. his breathing is becoming more ragged as his emotions build up, indicative of how little control he has left over them. he fills his lungs again and says the only thing he has left to say. ]

I d-didn’t -- I’m sorry.

#darcyiisms #recording

“No. He’s not. Why I need to stop blood letting has nothing to do with him, Andrew. This is— I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”

Darcy’s a little impressed. He’s calmer than she expected out of him, and though his rage is still peeking through, maybe he learned some more self restraint after all. The dogs, on the other hand, react to his anger. His chemo signals are poignant and they can smell his escalation, and when he bares his teeth they step closer. Sassy’s tongue sweeps over bared, yellow teeth and Hubble growls, the bridge of his muzzle scrunched together in warning. This calls Darcy’s attention and she shoos her hand slightly, hoping they’ll calm down.

“I can’t describe it to you,” Not without blaming him. But she wants to spare him that at least, even though she has every write to be angry. She knows she does. But if it makes this easier for him… “But it hurts. Not because of the teeth or anything. Different than used to. It really hurts. And I can’t keep doing it. I need to stop, for myself. You can understand that, right, Drewdrop?”

She waits a beat, keeping her voice soft and quiet in hopes to placate him. Then, “You told me a long time ago that if I couldn’t be your blood letter anymore, we’d still be friends. Please. Tell me you weren’t lying.”

[ andrew’s lips pull up in a snarl that matches the dogs’, and when she begins to explain that this choice came from herself and not someone else he begins to shake his head rigorously. ]

N-No, I don’t -- I don’t understand.

[ he still can’t believe she would do this without a reason -- something must have changed. maybe someone did something to her, made her change her mind, see him differently -- or maybe it was him. maybe he did something. does she not trust him anymore? he’s always healed her up after drinking from her, made sure she had enough food and water, even protected her, saved her life from other vampires. he’s done his job. why can’t she do hers? blinking hard to hold back hurt, angry tears, he chokes out: ]

What happened?

[ he can’t bring himself to answer her question, not right now with his head still reeling, so he ignores it in favor of interrogating her. he’s still hoping he can get to the bottom of this and change her mind, so that maybe he won’t have to answer it at all. ]

She doesn’t appreciate the way the word slips off his tongue like a growl and immediately she feels something swell in her chest, protective of his very name.

“No, you’re not.” He reads too easily. He might not be a newborn anymore but he was still a child and eternally an adolescent and he’s brooding. Darcy takes one step back, a hand raising up toward her hair before rubbing it over the back of her head. This was not a good way to start. “I don’t want you to be angry.” But she gets he probably will be.

Her teeth bite into her lower lip slightly and she wrings her hands together for a second, eyes down cast before bringing them up toward Andrew. She takes a deep breath, attempting to prepare herself for the worst. “I can’t… I want to be your friend. I still do. But… I can’t be your blood letter anymore.”

[ andrew’s jaw tightens indignantly when she rejects his response, but before he can object, she’s telling him she doesn’t want to be his bloodletter anymore. if his heart were able to beat faster than half the speed of a human’s it’d be racing; but instead it just drops, heavy inside him, and keeps thudding on slowly with sudden and terrible dread. ]

W-Why not?

[ he swallows hard, tries not to get too angry, but he can already feel his nerves burning with the familiar fire of his perpetual rage. he can’t understand why she’d suddenly want to break her covenant with him, and immediately begins jumping from thought to thought, feeling to feeling, trying to make sense of what’s happening. ]

Is it -- is it because of him?

[ throwing a threatening glare toward the dogs behind her, he bares his fangs again. ]

I-Is he a vampire?

[ he doesn’t smell vampire, but there’s definitely something weird about those dogs and he wouldn’t be surprised if she’s gotten mixed up with some other supernatural being who’s trying to sway her allegiance from him. and he’s not about to stand back and let someone else take her away. the bond he made with her when he first took her blood and left her alive is one that’s supposed to last forever. ]

Darcy removes her hand, watching his face with a set gaze. She’s hardly concerned about the dogs. They won’t hurt him or try to as long as he remains harmless and without ill intent, but hell if everything about Andrew’s presence doesn’t leave them particularly wary.

“My boyfriend’s way of keeping me safe. You know, like guard dogs.” It’s a truthful answer, even if it might not be what he’s looking for. Explaining they aren’t ordinary animals will leave her to explain why she has them, and Damien’s title is a secret she wants to remain well-kept.

She nods at him, smiling a little again. “I’m fine. I just— haven’t seen you in forever. There was something I wanted to tell you, but… have you been all right?”

Your... boyfriend.

[ possessiveness prickles the hair at the back of his neck and his hand curls into a tight fist around the key it still holds. he doesn’t know what she’s been getting into since he last saw her, but he doesn’t like the thought that she needs these big foul guard dogs to take care of her, or that her boyfriend thinks she does. she already has someone to protect her -- him. wrenching his gaze away from the dogs when she speaks again, he retracts his fangs and frowns, mumbling grudgingly, ]

I’m fine.

[ he can still sense that something is off, and the apprehension that he now knows he was right to be feeling continues to simmer in his chest. he narrows his eyes suspiciously. ]

...What do you have to tell me?

#breathing #darcyiisms

There’s a bark that resonates throughout the entire room once Andrew steps foot inside. In the dark, a large dog bares its teeth from the corner of the living space and from the inside of Darcy’s bedroom comes a second to guard the way in, nails tapping on the laminated floor. Andrew’s a stranger and infiltrated the apartment, and he smells. Very unlike most of their charge’s other companions, he’s very far from human or even a mutant or alien. He reeks too much like the supernatural and the same blood that’s too often stained their own teeth for comfort.

Darcy is scrambling out of her bed and comes out last, prepared to face a burglar or a misguided assassin looking for Damien instead. She pauses at the sight of Andrew and remembers all at once that he has a key to her apartment. It’s been a while… Funny. Two days from now she’d scheduled a locksmith to get the locks changed. New keys and everything.

“And– Drewdrop, hey.” A small smile greets him. Happy as she is to see him after a couple months with just a few texts between them (especially to see him safe), having to talk to him is something she’s been dreading. Becaus she has to. Especially if he’s here for blood and for a second she’s worried he’s talked to Louis. But Louis wouldn’t have done that, right? She hopes the timing is a coincidence.

The dogs continue to stand alert, black eyes glued to the vampire. Sassy snarls quietly from the corner. Hubble stands guard of Darcy with raised hackles until she’s moving around the infernal creature to get closer.

Darcy closes the distance between them both and strokes his hair like she always does, but it does absolutely nothing to hide the nervous beating of her heart in her chest. “About time you stopped by. Man, I thought you forgot about me.”

[ the second the dogs step in, andrew's muscles tense and he freezes solid, ready to fight them off if they attack. he’s never seen dogs like this before -- never smelled dogs that reeked like this, like they’re not of this world. all at once he’s sure that something is very wrong, that darcy may be in danger, and when she enters the room his fears are hardly assuaged by her elevated heartbeat. he doesn’t move when she approaches, fangs digging into his bottom lip as he faces off against the dogs. even when she touches him his spine stays rigid, feet glued in place. ]

What’s going on?

[ his reflective blue eyes snap from the animals to the human in front of him and then back, staring them down over her shoulder. ]

Are you alright? What are -- what are they?

@darcyiisms

[ it’s been a long time since andrew visited one of his bloodletters. he and his sire have been traveling further and further from the place of his birth, even taking a trip out of the country for a few months to visit paris as per lucien’s wishes. they’re back now, and since they're now to spending some time in lucien’s birthplace of new york, andrew’s decided to drop by darcy’s. he’s not hungry or anything, but some vague, barely recognizable feeling tugging at his chest tells him that he misses her company and he follows that pull to her door. his fingers tremble as they hold the key she gave him, and he stares down at his hand as if it is alien to him. he hasn’t felt nerves like this in a while; he’s surprised he can still feel them at all. swallowing them as best he can, he unlocks the door and enters darcy’s apartment with his camera held out in front of him. it’s dark inside, but he can see just fine. he eyes the bedroom door, wondering if she’s asleep. ]

...Darcy?

#[ check out my rp group pls!!! ]#[ i play human andrew there and we're looking for new members!!! ]#promo

thedanegang

THE DANE GANG; a weird rp where you can be dane dehaan

HOME || RULES || FAQ || DANES || APPLICATION

Have you ever wondered what it would be like if all the characters Dane DeHaan played were warped into the same universe and hung out together?

…Probably not, but I bet you’re thinking about it now! Come join the Dane Gang! Currently accepting applications for SEVEN CHARACTERS, including fan-favorites like Jesse D’amato (In Treatment), Jason Cankam (The Place Beyond the Pines), Trip (Metallica Throught the Never), Cricket Pate (Lawless), and more!

Matt was still looking directly into the lens of Andrew’s camera, because even if his cousin didn’t see the mess he was at that moment, he’d damn well see it on film later.

Warm tears welled and then descended, leaving bright streaks across his cheeks and neck,as the shaking of his hands began traveling from wrist to toe. Every last bit of grief and anger made its way in a steady stream through him, never relenting for a moment; as if in a subconscious fear that if it were to fade, so would Andrew. He was about to say more, but as soon as he was only a syllable into it Andrew’s accusation tore through the rest of the words like a beast; the pure rage contained in them making his tremors stop as soon as they started. There was a steady ringing in his ears, and he was left breathing heavily, nothing but pure hurt in his expression as the anger he had tried so desperately to hold on to was stripped away with just that one sentence.

He sputtered brokenly:

“Do…I look like I never cared, An’?”