[eleanorlangston]

silasowens‌:

“Well, I’ve learned my lesson.” Silas sighed, grimacing at the ashen taste of tobacco in his lungs. It had been decades since he’d touched the stuff, and it wasn’t as if the smoke was helping the lingering burn in his chest from the night before, but he needed something to take the edge off. The marksman’s hands hadn’t stopped shaking since the blast. “That’s the last time I go to a vampire’s house party.” 

         Eleanor tilted her head back and enjoyed the fresh air against her skin. “I think we all have, Silas.” She hummed a tune beneath her breath as she rolled her head towards him. “Bad habit to pick up again.” Her hand extended out to him, pointing a finger directly at him. “Put it out, so we can go grab some lunch. I’m starving after yesterday.” An entire twelve hours had passed since Eleanor had a drop of blood; a growing need to settle her nerves with a fix of blood. 

[eleanorlangston]

—@milanwees​

          Eleanor heard the slightest click mere miliseconds before everything went dark then screams were belted out, glass shattered into a millions of pieces, and wood splintered across the room. She woke up against one of the bars, pushing herself up to examine the wreckage. Only she stopped almost immediately at sharp pain coming from her hand, lifting to see a piece of something had gashed the side of it. “Is anyone in here?” She called out while searching for something to put on her hand, realizing almost instantly she wasn’t healing like normal.

[eleanorlangston]

milanwees‌:

With the nodd of his head Milan listened. He could at least do that. He felt as if she was giving him the choice he was never offered and it felt like such a sour apple to bite into. She was doing the honorable thing while he had done the opposite, the cowards work. He took her card with ease and gently tucked into his jacket pocket. He wasn’t sure if he would ever use it - then again he was free to see her again, or at least no one would stop him or threaten to kill her. 

The memory of their time together had been an escape for him almost a hundred years ago and yet it was also one of the many ways he tormented his own soul for his actions. Eleanor was doing good, she sure had histories and stories he knew nothing about, but he had kept tabs on her or at least to the extent he could. She wouldn’t believe him if he said that. 

“Thank you.” he murmured and looked her directly in the eyes. Oh how he wished he couldn’t see the spite and horrors in her eyes. She’d gone to sleep so peacefully in his arms the night he’d taken it all from her and look at them now. Two strangers on the streets as if they were exchanging phone numbers but in reality waiting for the escape they both needed. The salvation of it. “Well, here’s mine.” He didn’t think it was a good idea to hand his own business card but then again he wanted to. It would be a lie to think he hadn’t missed her porcelain skin and mesmerizing eyes even if he was the one who had taken the spark away from them. “I have no excuses and I cannot tell you anything. Wont and can’t is the right words.” Milan straightened himself and look at her with compassion. “There is no excuse for what I did to you and I will be fine with every emotion you have towards me.” A small smile crept on his lips as he dared to stroke her cheek with the back of his hand. “Welcome to Orleans Eleanor, I wish you find what you’re looking for.” With that he took his hands in his pockets, a small last glance and started walking down the street. 

—END. 

[eleanorlangston]

MASQUERADE BALL // EVENT 001

[early-sunsets]

Adaline Bowman’s modern day outfits (The Age of Adaline)

[starsdaily]

I have a strong sense of myself. That gives me a sense of security. If I define myself by things that are always changing, like the public’s opinion or what I’m wearing or what job I’m doing, there’s no stability in that.

[eleanorlangston]

milanwees‌:

The lingering touch of her lips on his cheek felt like a confirmation. She wanted nothing to do with him, yet she was contradicting herself saying he couldn’t leave her again. He hadn’t even wanted to leave her in the first place, but if he hadn’t things would’ve turned for the worse. If he didn’t leave, she would’ve killed her completely and she wouldn’t have lived at all. Was it his excuse of making it okay? Saying what he did was to make her at least live some sort of life? He felt defeated, utterly and completely defeated. 

“No.” he murmured as his eyes couldn’t find hers. He didn’t want to because all he saw was the hatred she so passionately wanted him to recieve. Was this okay? No. Did she deserve the truth? Yes, but would he give it? never. “I cannot tell you Eleanor.” his voice was small compared to what it usually was and it was all because of her. “You’ve done so well though.. “ A small smile crept upon his lips. It was horrible to think of it, but she was the perfect woman for the life she had been given. She lived with grace and she was still good, he wished he could’ve been there for her, but that just wasn’t the case for them, it had never been. 

“You are no fool, you never was or will be.” He finally looked up and found her eyes. He had no right to speak to her or be around and yet he was breaking every barrier she probably wanted to keep up. “It is your choice, I’ll disappear if you want me to and if you wish - I’ll stick around.” 

          Rejection came too easily for Milan with ‘no’ falling from his lips with such ease he’d already decided on the answer before she’d finished her question. All the want faded into nothing as she watched the man she once loved turn his back on his again. After everything he’d done, he still believed he held the right to not tell her why he’d left her; broken her into nothing. She had to be the one to discover what she was alone and fight the urge to kill those she fed on. He could have been the one to walk her through her transition, but instead, he fled the next morning and left her alone.

          “You cannot tell me or you won’t tell me,” Eleanor questioned whether he was being honest with her, knowing there was a fine line between can’t and won’t. “How could you possibly know how well I’ve done, Milan? Did you keep tabs on me? Because if so... You know very little with how I’ve done. You cannot possibly know what I’ve been through from afar, so how dare you assume differently.” Their conversation was long over, yet here they both still stood – drawn into simply being within the same vicinity as the other. She knew then she wouldn’t get the truth from him now, so she shook her head at his last statement. She thought over what to say before settling on something that could mean something to him.

          “I would never ask you to leave, Milan. So stay. It’s not my choice to make or mine to ask of you, but know this – I will never let you hurt me the way you once did. I will not fall into the trap of your faux emotions.” The rain seized finally with Eleanor tucking her umbrella into her bag after she shook the water from it. The street came alive once more with people pouring out in groups as she took the time to look at Milan once more. “If you wish to open up, you can find me here.” She slipped her card into his hand and finally took a step back. “You shouldn’t have a problem finding it, but for now – I think it would be best if we stopped speaking so publicly.”

[eleanorlangston]

milanwees‌:

She was fire, an ember licking at an open wound. She hadn’t changed at all, she was still so strong willed and fierce and Milan admired that, and maybe that admiration was why she had been the one to suffer from him. It was like a knife twisting his insides, trying to hurt yet not enough to kill. Milan simply looked at her, watched as all the emotions in her eyes shifted and turned, swirled like an endless stream. He wasn’t able to move, because he didn’t know where to go. It was his gaze upon her which had made his maker jealous, which had made her force him to take her life - Making him exactly like her. 

As she came closer he couldn’t help but inhale the perfume. It was still the same, the one she’d always loved so dearly. He had avoided the scent of such flowers because they always brought him back to her. His hands clenched together as her words laced with venom towards him. Yes, he’d left her. She had figured out everything about living during the night on her own and he was so proud of her. In his anguish and frustration she was his greatest creation he didn’t even wish to make. As she turned to leave Milan took a step forward, grasping her palm, making her stop in her steps. 

Why he would do such a thing he didn’t even know. She probably hated his touch after what he’d done, how he had torn into her neck as if it was nothing. The worst part of it was how he’d drowned in her life essence and ravaged in it because he enjoyed it. Perhaps that was his biggest secret? That he enjoyed taking her life when in truth he didn’t want to? “Eleanor.”Her name rolled off his tongue and he caught her eyes with his again. “You need to understand that if I did not leave-”  Milan shut his eyes in frustration. He couldn’t tell her about it, it wasn’t an excuse even if he wanted it to be one. “nevermind.” he murmured and let go of her hand. She was the master of her own fate and he was the spectator, but now she was the one with him in her grasp because he’d done anything to make her at least believe she’d wanted this, because that would sooth his dark and spotted soul. 

         One second too long their hands touched, sparking a sensation she had long forgotten. Her chest deflated at his words to stay and painted a desire she refused to give into. One hundred years since she allowed him to control her emotions, convincing her his feeling were sincere. As he pulled away, her eyes struggled to look away from her own hand as if trying to comprehend why he thought touching her was permitted. Rubbing her hand against her coat, she faked disgust and tried again to prove she didn't still care about him. How pathetic it would have looked to care about a man who betrayed you?

        “You no longer get to have a say in what I do, Milan. You gave that privilege up--” Again, Eleanor stepped forward and returned to where only he could hear her next words. “--when you took my life away. You left me believing you loved me, but all you wanted was to take my life; my choice.” She could see the scene they were creating with the hushed words and tension building between them. She did what she thought would break them from each other; the pull they still felt to the other. Her lips touched the side of his jawline, pressing them into him before stepping away. A kiss on the check to send her away from him.

         But she allowed herself to think on his words too long. Eleanor repeated his words a few more times before settling on saying something. “What would have happened?” She knew she should have left after she'd kissed his cheek, but decades of not understanding why he would turn her and leave strokes her curiosity too much. “If you did not leave, what would have happened? What excuse will you feed me all of these years later? Please don't play me the fool as I have long outgrown that role.”

[eleanorlangston]

milanwees‌:

The last meeting with the board had been horrendous. They’d dragged along about expanding the business further. They already sold to to both Europe and the U.S so why would the expand to Asia too? The thought of his company going global hadn’t been the goal back when he’d started his cover for the blood smugling all those years ago. He tried to keep his posture to it all but no, he’d left the board meeting before it was even over. Why did everything have to grow? Why couldn’t just something stay forever the same, except him. 

The rain was pouring and Milan’s jacket didn’t really keep the water from drenching him. His hair already curling in the tips and falling slick to his neck. He was annoyed and more than anything wished to go back to his den of nothing. However, as he’d stopped by one of the old book stores and picked up a few pieces to keep him entertained someone bumped into him from behind. The sheer surprise in his mind wasn’t evident on his face, but he was without a doubt taken aback. Eleanor. 

Last time he’d checked she was still travelling around the world, enjoying the life she had been given without even asking for it. His throat clenched and he was unsure of what to do. Should he run? Should he knock her out? She wasn’t supposed to be here, no - He wasn’t supposed to be in her pressence. “Eleanor.” He breathed out as he watched her hand inch up just a little. Their story was gruesome, one of horrors and nothing else. The agony of his memories still haunted him so much that he made sure she’d been okay all these years, that she wouldn’t miss anything. “Y-yeah, it’s me.” He didn’t know what else to say, but he took a step back. She should hate him, she should wish to devour his whole soul and curse it to hell - Yet her eyes still had a hint of those eyes he’d found more beautiful than any other. “You need to leave.” He breathed out, the rain pouring down on both of them as if none of them were allowed to leave the very ground they stood upon. 

         An ache grew in her stomach at his words - the lack of emotion lacing them. Slowly, Eleanor blinked the shock from her eyes and perked her shoulders up, hiding the disappointment she now felt. Flashes of memories flooded her, creating a need to question her existence; how she would end up in the same town as him. The rain masked her expression just long enough to compose herself, pulling her umbrella from her bag and popping it open. She now looked Milan in the eyes, holding his gaze to show she wouldn’t fear his gaze like she thought she would for decades.

         “You want me to leave?” Eleanor questioned him without listening, trying her best to mask the confusion of it all. She recalled the evenings they’d spent together and… The kissing, the messy bed, the lies. Everything he’d fed her over a hundred years ago was a lie, and she just now realized how foolish she was to look at him the way she did now – with care. “After everything that’s happened,” she struggled to say the words, to allow herself to be vulnerable to him yet again. “You want me to leave? I refuse.”

         The memory overcomes her suddenly with eyes briefly shutting as his teeth burying into her neck and blood covering her nightgown. Her screams muffled by his hand as tears rolled down her face; her life leaving her body before she had a chance. She woke the next morning with a new chapter awaiting her, but all she wanted was to roll over and wake up from the nightmare. Milan was gone without a note, leaving her searching the streets until she realized the mess she must have looked like. Bloodied nightgown with red lipstick spread across her cheek – she was devastatingly beautiful in her heartbreak. She rushed back to the present as if the moment had happened the morning before; refusing to forget what he’d done to her.

         “We both know I’m not the type to leave. I’m the type to get left,” Eleanor controlled her tone and shifted her umbrella above her head. A quick step forward offered coverage for Milan as she brought her face inches from his. “You may have left me all of those years back, but you do not get to leave me now.” She slowly turned away from him, making her way down the street.

[eleanorlangston]

one hundred years too late — closed to @milanwees

          New Orleans held a familiarity Eleanor couldn’t put her finger on – a constant melody playing in the background or laughter echoing down the streets. Every little thing about the new city pulled her in day by day as she walked the streets to find the quickest route home, stopping every so often to take in a local shop. Her attention remained on things rather than people, not knowing when a good time to feed would be. Lips pressed tightly together until someone pulled her attention, forcing the corner of her lips to raise. Another hour passed of window shopping when his reflection caught her by surprise. A face she hadn’t seen in over a hundred years flashing against the glass of the shop and by the time she turned around to see if it were really him – he’d disappeared.

          “Milan?” Eleanor whispered his name to herself before pursuing the direction she assumed he’d taken, rounding a corner and stopping abruptly when she crashed into the back of a man. He turned around with the same charming good looks she’d remember all of those years back, but it couldn’t be him after all of this time. “It isn’t really you, is it?” She thought to touch his face, but she kept her hand by her side. Every passing second used to take in the features she’d never been able to forget. “Milan, is it really you?”

[blackvalehq]

♔ ALIAS: Eleanor Isobel Langston

♔ SPECIES: Vampire

♔ AGE: 28/100+

♔ OCCUPATION: Unemployed

♔  AFFILIATION: Neutral

HISTORY IN THE MAKING ;

The 1900s would booming with inventions as the Langstons found themselves breaking the bank, crediting carefully placed investments for the sudden overflow of money. Eleanor watched her parents influence shift from selfless to a sudden selfishness she hadn’t noticed before. Money can do wicked things to those you love, so she made a point to voice her concerns. “How could a sixteen year old know anything about finances?” Her father spat at her after a small comment left him putting her back in her place. She learned to keep her opinions quite as she prepared to finish school and marry off. Threats to her parents went overlooked by her because she found her concerns still remained nothing worth verbalizing. Her father held a prominent role in society with her mother following his lead until it left them both dead outside a charity event, where they had both put in a face for the press. Eleanor doesn’t recall crying until weeks after their funerals when all of their money fell onto her lap. Every temptation the money had brought into her life only made the decision get rid of it that much easier.

Elegance only goes so far before it is counted as self-righteousness, which is something Eleanor wanted no connection to. She made a point to give her riches away before she had turned twenty and took on a life less than expected of someone in her status. Young heiress gives away dead parents’ fortune overnight hit local papers as she refused to give any comment. Being rich was what everyone wanted as a quality in the 1900s, but not Eleanor, who fell into the field of romanticism. She blinded herself with thoughts of finding the one person who would make her happy. These ideas left her grabbing onto every word someone fed into her ego as her naivety got the best of her one evening. Celebrating the end of a year for her as she had reached the age twenty-eight when she ran into someone feeding her promises she’d always wanted. The bite caught her off guard and silenced her scream until she woke the next morning with a hunger for something she couldn’t put her finger on.                                                

Days passed with blood soaked lips a constant look for Eleanor, losing herself in the process. The love she’d searched for betraying her and leaving her helpless. Bodies laid in her wake with little control of her cravings, draining every single man or woman dry she came across. Months turned to years until she slowly mastered what she was and regained some control over her urges. Her dreams long gone and the romanticism faded to nothing, holding little weight in her life. Travel became necessary to survive, making her way from town to town every few years. Life became solitary for the vampire and made her rely on herself over anyone else. Her secrets became her own to bear with brief encounters with others only occurring when the loneliness threatened to consume her. Another decade passed before her eyes with no real mark on the world, forcing her to acknowledge how little she had done. During this time, she finally realized her eternity was a gift to use. She began to focus on the bigger picture and put herself in a position to do good; to make up for all the lives she had taken so many years back. That’s how she’s found her way to New Orleans with no real idea of what is supposed to happen next for her.

BEHIND CLOSED DOORS ;

Every little thing in Eleanor’s life had brought her to the point she was now: secretive. She knew better than to give away her secrets, so she made sure to be the good listener of the group. Always counting five seconds before responding, always gathering her thoughts. No one truly knows who Eleanor Langston is unless she wants you to know. Every expression precise and never by mistake. She’s the master at making someone think they know her enough before pulling away. Maybe she would have been different if things had gone down another route, but she’s grown used to be alone. She’s come to terms her dreams have long gone and survival is all that matters. Perhaps, there’s still remnants of the girl who wanted to be starry-eyed and swept off her feet, but she would never allow herself to feed into those emotions… At least, she doesn’t think she would.

face claim ; Blake Lively

ELEANOR LANGSTON is currently TAKEN. 

[hailesteinfeld]