an indie multimuse

[esoterium]

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>>oh it doesn't matter how you hide. find you if we're wanting to.<< that little rush of adrenaline in the back of your mouth. you taste it. coppery. sweet. your pulse quickens. it's a giddy thrill. plastic fangs. smoke machines. cotton cobwebs! rubbery masks! it's a spook show, baby! let's have us a thrill. be careful how close you look at those skeletons. never, never touch the props! they hate it when you do that!! >>so slide back down and close your eyes. sleep a while. you must be tired.<< dash only. multimuse featuring horror and mixed media muses from film, novels, video games and television. HEAVILY TRIGGERING CONTENT WARNING! DO NOT INTERACT IF HORROR THEMES AREN'T YOUR BAG OR YOU WILL NOT USE THE TAGGING SYSTEM TO AVOID THOSE THREADS! private && selective. 21+ only. dixon.

important links: rules. ask. muses. supernatural muses. request muses. memes. offdash sideblog.

heavily affiliated with: @xxgotthedevilinsidexx where else can you find me? bloodsalted (dean winchester from supernatural. canon div.)

[esoterium]

@hostiae || prompts that make me go 👀|| accepting!

[ DANCE ]:  when alone together (e.g. the bedroom, the kitchen, literally anywhere once they’re alone) the sender takes the receiver’s hand, and pulls them into a graceful yet intimate dance as a spontaneous act. ( from lestat to louis )

the townhouse is quiet. save the music filtering in through the opened shutters and windows from a concert inside le petite theatre a couple of blocks down the street. louis can hear it clearly. one of the benefits of the blood. at least there is the ability to eavesdrop on the beauty of a pianist performing their solo piece. it suits the book he has poised upon his knee, heel pressed into the cushion of his seat. eyes peeled to the pages. refusing to acknowledge the burning glare from, what he can clearly tell is, a bored lestat.

if any of the handful of grunts. huffs. noises he's made to gain his attention that've fallen upon purposefully deafened ears tells louis one thing is that lestat is bound to do something desperate soon to rid himself of the greatest sin that can be cast upon his poor lack of being entertained self.

what he doesn't expect when he sneakily watches his shoes and legs swing into sight above the page he flips is that those feet are going to carry lestat all the way over to him. the novel is plucked from his careful fingertips and louis stares into the blank space between his eyes and his now empty hand before he pivots his attention up to his maker. a brow lifts. "yes, lestat," he asks--voice lifting up as he finishes his name.

his recently freed hand becomes occupied with lestat's. who has yet to say a word. before the vampire takes a fluid step backwards and forces louis's upon the floor and then--for him to stand. exasperated, he lets out a small groan wondering where he's about to be drug off to before he's pulled in. his chest stills. unnecessary breaths that are habit and comfort, even if they are inhumanely far apart, come to a complete halt. he searches blue eyes with emerald. a small smile of wonder curves his mouth before lips part once an arm is wrapped around his waist.

their fingers intertwine. rather lestat intertwines them until their palms touch and he brings both hands between their bodies in the barely there space as they begin to dance. lead by him and louis yielding. the previous smile returns. this time rebirthed in the form of a grin. "lestat.. are you really that bored?"

[qapsiel]

@esoterium ;; meme I can't find anymore umbrella, sender lets receiver under their umbrella. (mick--he is a gentleman...)

                           IT'S POURING WITH RAIN. Usually, Castiel isn't bothered by that, but ever since he had to spend some time as a human, he became a little… well. Softer? He knows what it's like to be soaking wet and not able to angel-mojo yourself dry, and the memory of cold, heavy clothes sticking to his skin is unpleasant. Mick Davies tilting his umbrella so Castiel is protected from the onslaught of water is a welcome surprise, even if Castiel doesn't know why the British Men of Letters does it. They have to stand very close together to share the umbrella, after all, and Dean explicitly told him that this is invading someone's personal space. Maybe British people aren't as silly about that as Americans. "Thank you," he says solemnly. "The movies appear to be true: You Englishmen do carry an umbrella wherever you go."

[esoterium]

the weather reminds him of home. in the worst sort of ways. not that he's overly homesick for it. but the constant rain that's been coming down the past few days? miserable. the sun never seems to peek out from the thick haze of gray clouds overhead. there's either a mist in the air, something in between, or an all out downpour. this would be the third. inquisitive gaze shifts to castiel who gets hit with it sans any protection other than that trenchcoat he seems to love so much. that won't do. not when he's standing there perfectly dry. save for his shoes and the edges of his pants legs thanks to the splash. "mm. not all. only the intelligent ones," mick can't help the uneven grin as he shelters them both from the storm.

"regret agreeing to accompany me yet? it's going to be quite boring. seeing as how i've been assigned to simply watch this annoying bloke do whatever it is they're expecting him to do. yet didn't quite inform me of." not that he didn't get the information himself. but best to keep some of his tactics secret until complete trust is earned. yes?

[devourcr]

there's little that should be frightening left in the world. even at armand's darkest, even in the deepest stretches of his memory, moments where his throat had gone raw in anguish, where blood blurred his vision until there was none left — and perhaps he'd have rathered madness than agony — it was nothing like what he saw when he pushed his way into nicki's mind. he's never seen such a darkness that would swallow the world and still beg for more.

he tells himself there has to be an end. he'll hit the bottom and come back up for air. and armand will be there to catch him when he does.

but he doesn't. he hasn't.

he tells himself that centuries on this earth should have given him the insight to handle it. the knowledge he held, the lessons he'd learned — the names and faces of the vampires in his coven — what was one vampire, still a child in the blood? perhaps the anger at nicki is also anger internalized, directed at himself for feeling such frustration. he feels the blood on his fingertips, his strong grip never allowing the wounds to close, instead the scent of nicki's blood mixes with stale, drying blood on his face. and for a moment, armand holds his breath in hope, clinging to that second of lucidity. stay with me!

maybe he's right. maybe he doesn't want him to be them. yet, armand chooses to scoff in response, ❝ and what are you now? what is your meaning? you're an artist in pitch black, a screeching musician — a bloodied child arguing meaning in a damp alley, ❞ how does it take so much strength not to shake him or slam him into the wall again and again. ❝ i don't want you to rot, nicolas. i want you to live. ❞

he exhales a shuddering breath, quiet but never loosening his grip, even when he brings attention to the blood he draws. ❝ if it's the only tongue you speak, it's the one i'll use, ❞ a pause, ❝ let's leave here. come home. ❞

[esoterium]

five fingertips come to push through the disheveled curls framing his face. damp and several drying stuck together with the blood that coats them. his knees buckle once when pain shoots up his other arm. a sensation that makes dark eyes roll back and the grimace that twisted his mouth melts into a sardonic grin. "what am i? your punishment. your sentence to a purgatory on earth. one filled with you wanting so desperately to pull me back from the darkness. one sentenced to you by lestat. and yet you keep me. so willing to suffer and fret.."

"i have no meaning other than what you see. i was left with NONE!" his voice cracks as the blood now begins to drip freely from his arm having soaked through the fabric of his sleeve and pooled there so heavily that the cloth can no longer contain it. delicate features twist into a look of agony caused by sheer heartache that is gone nearly as quickly as it appeared. he will not buckle. his knees are forced steady.

...home?

"aren't i living now? surely my bleeding for you proves that i am living. not quite rotting yet. but so so close. it's what they ARE. why should i not join them? every single one of them are as pitch black and dark inside as you are so terrified of in me." a dull, sickening laugh shows a row of teeth. the points of his fangs deadly sharp. yet they drag over a bottom lip that does not tear. "ahh. yes. home." his head shakes against the wet rock behind him. "where is home? the place where you would rather lock me away inside.. to make me what? better?"

his cold, judgmental gaze falters. he looks, for armand and armand only, lost. torn open. gutted. lucidity touches his mind. how fleeting will it be? "there's no mending me, armand. you try and you try and for what end..?"

[devourcr]

he fears louis could see through him — that he'd take his advice as selfishness instead of the wisdom of an elder vampire. is it selfishness to want him for himself? is it selfishness to love him? the theater has lost its intrigue and its purpose. even amongst the others, the loneliness had begun to overwhelm him. it seeps into everything he does, toxic, poisonous, and he wants to be rid of it. the theater may have drawn him into the world decades prior, but he wants more. he's starved for companionship, and in louis, he sees someone he could stand beside. but they'll never have the opportunity here. they'll never have it if claudia is in between.

armand wants to ease the pain away from him. his eyes are warm and open, brow furrowed in sympathy, as he watches him process his words. he doesn't mean for them to hurt. though, he knows for louis to finally let her go, it was going to be painful. but he'd stand there, ready to pick up the pieces and put them together again. he'd be stronger after. better for it. and as louis's emerald eyes open, armand breathes in deeply. trust me, he wants to say.

❝ don't you want to find out? ❞ he asks, ❝ do you not want to see yourself outside of her? on your own accord, not through her eyes. ❞ long fingers stroke the soft skin underneath, as he leans in, armand traces up from his cheek, following his hairline up and back down again, to cup his face tenderly. he could have lost himself in his beauty, eyes and hands longing to commit him to memory. if he closed his eyes, he could have painted him in vivid detail.

❝ we fear what we don't know, but you'll only be stagnant if you stay. you'll be stagnant if she comes with you. but if you let me, i'll help you. i want to meet you, louis. the real you. ❞ and he could make it so much easier for him to pry away from her. oh, it would take so little to put forth a chain reaction that would force them apart. and with all the pain it might draw from him, he'd teach him to thrive in the aftermath. and while he can't say the words out loud, while he refuses to give away how much he knows, there's no guarantee that their shared blood or experiences would bind them forever. lestat is still between them.

❝ the longer you keep her, she can't grow. ❞ and while she never would, trapped for eternity as no more than a child, he thinks it's worth framing them as holding one another back. as if she couldn't develop into the person she needed to be any more than he could. ❝ you keep her a child. ❞

[esoterium]

does he want to find out? his heart. dead as he claims it to be. shatters in his chest when the smallest voice in the back of his mind begs yes! his eyes avert his gaze towards the corner of armand's mouth. as if looking there would hide that horribly cruel thought. selfish. it was selfish. his hand in condemning claudia to the fate she is forced to endure for eternity has earned him this life. this repentance for the cruelty that was bestowed upon her when she was defenseless. helpless. vulnerable in every sense of the word. and yet? he craves to have the braveness to mutter the word. one single. three lettered word. that would confirm armand's questions. that would give him the affirmation that he is seeking.

that louis wants free..

he wants him. wants to be near him. wants to spend their time together. to learn from him in the ways he could never learn from lestat. in ways that lestat REFUSED to teach him during all their years together. more than that. he wants to experience him. being his. that sense of belonging to someone who simply wants his company. not loathe him for the necessity of having it.

"the real me..," he repeats back wildly searching those chestnut colored eyes as if he could find himself, his true self, inside their reflection. a fantasy. a dream. he barely remembers who he was and yet remembers every bit of it vividly at times. when he lets those years so long ago creep back into a mind that all but buried them away in one of the tombs of the saint louis. leaving who he was back in the city that was in his blood as much as lestat. as much as his past. a lifetime ago.

"i barely know who i would be now. what i would be like without...," and it goes without saying; her. "how am i supposed to show you?" long lashes flutter with the touches. with the nearness. "how can i let her go?" there's a heaviness in his stomach at the thought of it. of severing a tie that is tethered so deeply inside of him. even if it tangles it's way in and out of his veins and forms a noose around his neck. cuts it right in half..

that heaviness in his belly twists. stirs that so skillfully suppressed hunger that's ever-present. a dull buzz that he locks away until he can't. lips part before his head turns to brush their corners against the inside of armand's palm. over the thicker meat under his thumb and, such a human gesture, he inhales deep drawing what bit of control he has back into his grip before he presses them closed and brushes them over the skin there instead before murmuring quietly. "how do we let anyone go? without shattering another piece of who we are..."

[soulprompts]

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐆𝐎 👀.

okay so i got like, three books delivered this week, and in anticipation i reread another book that i had, and lads, let me tell ye, it was like quicksand. so now i have a list, some from my head, many from my wonderful friends’ heads, of prompts that basically made us all very soft or very “pleasantly scandalized rich lady from the sixties who just found out a juicy bit of goss about the new neighbor”. i hope ye like them! (DO NOT ADD TO THE LIST. I WILL MAKE A PART TWO. AND THREE. AND FOUR. MANY MANY PARTS. EVENTUALLY. )

[ HAIR ]:          sender slowly reaches out to catch a loose strand of the receiver’s hair and tuck it gently and securely back behind their ear, letting their touch linger afterwards. (if the receiver has short hair, then the sender reaches out and gently runs their fingers through their hair to smooth it back.)

[ CLOSE ]:          while standing remarkably close to one another, the sender is unable to stop themselves from running their gaze across the receiver’s body, lingering for a moment on their lips, before returning to initiate prolonged, intense eye contact.

[ CHIN ]:          as they stand close to one another, the sender hooks a finger and tenderly lifts the receiver’s chin, tilting it up so that they can look at one another, and running a thumb across their skin lightly.

[ THUMB ]:          while cupping the receiver’s cheek in their hand, the sender slowly glides their thumb across their cheekbone in a tender, sweeping caress.

[ WOUND ]:          upon noticing a recent injury on the receiver’s person, the sender carefully moves closer, running a thumb (or hand) across the wound in a gentle, troubled manner.

[ INHALE ]:          while standing in very close quarters to the receiver, the sender shakily inhales with desire/anticipation as they realize how intimately close they are to one another.

[ DANCE ]:          when alone together (e.g. the bedroom, the kitchen, literally anywhere once they’re alone) the sender takes the receiver’s hand, and pulls them into a graceful yet intimate dance as a spontaneous act.

[ BARE ]:          as they get undressed, the sender gently places a soft, tender kiss against the receiver’s bare shoulder.

[ SCAR ]:          noticing a scar on the receiver’s skin, the sender tentatively stops them from covering it up, and rests a gentle, soft kiss over it.

[ FOREHEAD ]:          placing a hand on the back of the receiver’s neck, the sender guides them close and rests their foreheads together.

[ PALM ]:          taking the receiver’s hand, the sender brings it to their mouth, and places a tender kiss against the receiver’s palm.

[ LINGER ]:          taking the receiver’s hand, the sender lifts it to their lips, and gently kisses their knuckles, lingering for a moment before withdrawing.

[ BEHIND ]:         upon entering the same room as the receiver, the sender steps behind them, and winds their arms around the receiver’s waist, drawing them close against them.

[ WAIT ]:          realizing the receiver is about to leave the room, the sender hastily reaches out and catches their wrist, preventing them from continuing their departure.

[ ARM ]:          after holding their hand, the sender releases the receiver, but slowly glides their hand up the full length of their arm, lingering on the upper arm, then the shoulder, then resting their touch against the side of their neck.

[ HOLD ]:          while close to the receiver, the sender wordlessly takes a hold of their hand, for no other purpose than to be holding it.

[ PLAY ]:          while sitting together, the sender absently lifts the receiver’s hand, idly running their fingertips across the lines of their palms, mapping out every inch of their hand with slow, lazy touches.

[ GUIDE ]:          in the process of guiding the receiver through a crowded place, the sender’s hand protectively grazes against the small of their back

[ TOUCH ]:          while touching the receiver’s waist, the sender’s hand briefly dips beneath the hem of their shirt, skimming briefly across the bare skin of their waist.

[ CUP ]:           bringing both hands up to cup the receiver’s face, the sender draws them in closer to them in order to get a better look at their face.

[ TUG ]:          the sender tugs the receiver close against them by resting a hand against the small of their back, pulling them flush against their body.

[ HUSH ]:          while standing close to one another and hiding from pursuers, the sender reaches up and places a finger against the receiver’s lips to prevent them from speaking and revealing their location.

[ WRAP ]: when sitting astride a horse/motorcycle/etc. together, the sender reaches back, takes the receiver’s wrists, and gently pulls their arms around the sender’s waist in an embrace designed to keep the receiver safe, despite feeling remarkably intimate.

[cares2021gorefest]

BIG   ,   LONG   GORE   /   HORROR   PROMPT   MEME   —   send  🩸 for a randomly generated gory prompt OR pick a number for a prompt ! all prompts under the cut cuz the list gets a bit long ! 

Keep reading

[angelprompts]

uh oh! i’ve fallen in love with the enemy!   ♡   feel free to change anything as needed.  happy writing ᵔᴗᵔ

“you vex me.”

“tell me you feel it too..”

“whatever is going on between us.. i feel it, too.”

“even though you have a knife to my throat, i can’t help but feel like you’re flirting with me right now.”

“you… have feelings for me?”

“we can’t do this.”

“i’ve tried to deny it for far too long. i can’t anymore.”

“i’m tired of pretending there isn’t something between us.”

“i’m tried of pretending i don’t love you.”

“are you blushing..?”

“maybe this would work in another life. but not this one.”

action prompts:

include  ‘⮀’  with the action for the receiver to do it to the sender instead

[ gaze ]  for the sender to gaze into the eyes of the receiver

[ pin ]  for the sender to pin the receiver against a wall

[ pause ]  for our muses to pause mid-fight to just stand and stare at each other

[ save ]  for the sender to save the receiver from a near-death experience

[ defend ]  for the receiver’s reaction to hearing the sender defend them

[ hand ]  for the sender to offer their hand to help the receiver get up from the ground

[ confess ]  for the receiver’s reaction to the sender confessing they have feelings for them

[ lean in ]  for the receiver’s reaction to the sender slowly leaning in to kiss them

[ tension relief ]  for our muses to finally relieve their sexual tension  (in whatever way the receiver sees fit)

[winchestergifs]

STACKEDNATURAL ⇉ 49.5/327

12.2 Mamma Mia Written by Brad Buckner & Eugenie Ross-Leming Directed by Thomas J. Wright Original Air Date: October 20, 2016

[esoterium]

@qapsiel -- these two. i stg.

[esoterium]

SUPERNATURAL MUSES. here you will find only supernatural muses. these characters will be based more in an hbo/nc-17 verion if kripke vibe supernatural. the topics of this show can be heavily triggering and this blog won't shy away from taking the horror element and running with it! that said! come love the babes if you like! cause i'm ready to have fun with 'em! will expand on descriptions at a later date. i'm just getting this list in order.

name: sister jo / anael faceclaim: danneel ackles

name: mick davies faceclaim: adam fergus

name: kevin tran faceclaim: osric chau

name: amelia richardson faceclaim: liane balaban

name: ava wilson faceclaim: katharine isabelle

name: eve (pre-death or au only) facelaim: julia maxwell

name: anna milton faceclaim: julie mcniven

name: lenore faceclaim: amber benson

name: scott carey (canon divergent survived murder attempt by gordon with his electrokinesis restarting his heart. was later near mortally wounded at cold oak. went into hiding after.) faceclaim: richard de klerk

[devourcr]

— our souls were too out of tune, our desires crossed, and our resentments too common and too well watered for the final flowering. [ #DEVOURCR ] independent & selective vampire armand based on the amc adaptation of interview with the vampire and anne rice's novels. heavily headcanon-inspired with verses in DEAD BY DAYLIGHT, SUPERNATURAL, RESIDENT EVIL, BG3 & MORE. 18+ only! minors DNI. WRITTEN BY CYN.

[esoterium]

major blog update!

// this blog's fallen to the wayside a little since i've been neck deep in my supernatural stuff again! so! i've decided to give it a kickstart i'm gonna be revamping a lot of the muses on here. adding some and deleting others. as well as cleaning up the inbox for a fresher start!

if you're interested in keeping our threads, please lemme know. otherwise? i'm gonna start over from there! interactions will be the same and relationships can carry over. but! yeah! it's overwhelming to catch up at this point and i just wanna be here with the peeps that are interested in my slow ass and muses. :D

keeping threads for so far (will update as needed!): louis de pointe du lac nicolas de lenfent santino steve rogers bucky barnes all twd threads jax teller all dreamcatcher threads

feel free to ask for any threads to be added to this list! i'm fine with carrying over anything!

[rayofsunshinc]

Aaron let his eyes close for just a few seconds, taking in the feeling of Paul's hand in his and the gentle touch, gentle brush of his thumb against Aaron's skin. It made him feel pleasantly warm.

When Paul spoke up again, Aaron's head turned and he looked back at him with a fondness that he couldn't cover if he wanted to. His words made Aaron's heart jump. Despite his attempts to maintain a composed exterior, his chest danced with a mixture of emotions, mirroring the hesitance.

Being close to someone meant ... maybe losing them. His expression fell to something a little more serious as he considered the real possibility that something could happen to Paul. Even though years had passed, the memory of Eric, cast a shadow over his willingness to fully embrace this newfound connection. The thought of opening himself up again, of risking another heartache, threatened to paralyze him.

He refused to let fear dictate his actions, to allow the specter of loss to overshadow the possibility of getting close to someone.

He let out a heavy breath, but he met Paul's gaze with a tender smile. If Paul was willing to let his guard down some, then well, Aaron was too. With a gentle squeeze of Paul's hand, Aaron spoke up. ❝I feel the same way.❞ He said. ❝It can be scary, you know? But I trust you too. This time with you means everything to me.❞

[esoterium]

paul turns on his side. having this conversation with him on his back staring up at the sky? just doesn't feel right. because this is a conversation he hasn't had in a long time. about something he hasn't let himself feel since... well. a lifetime ago. before the world changed. right after. a connection that meant something deeper than what he's let throughout the years. fleeting moments with damn near strangers to feel a little less lonely a night or two. even then? those were rarities. especially over the more recent years. because every loss is felt. and the closer you let someone get? if only for a night or two..?

the more it can drive you into the ground when they're gone.

he admires aaron. for having something so important for as long as he did. for loving eric and eric loving him in spite of how the world could make that word feel so fucking full of fear it might break you. what they had was something to be admired. respected. how aaron still feels for him. paul respects that, too. imagines that he might do the same if he were...

..shit. where his thoughts trail off next hit him square in the chest. that itching anxiety of losing someone? he feels that for a lot of people. his friends. his family. the people he holds close. the ones he fights for. what settles down deep is that--it's stronger for aaron. that worry. that fretting. that comes with..

pressing his lips together in a thoughtful line, the scavenger lifts his hand from aaron's. only to trace those fingertips along aaron's cheek. they tremble against the skin. just lightly. "i..uh..." eloquence. right out the window. sea-blue green hued eyes move his gaze back and forth over aaron's searching. "this means everything to me.. it's worth so much. you're worth so much." he gets flustered, puffing a breath through his lips before murmuring. "am i even getting a point across?" he feels like jumping out of his skin. god damn it. this is not how this went in his head.

[hostiae]

ultimately, there would be no way out that didn't include violence. armand went over it again and again and not once had it deterred him. eventually, the others would let their masks slip ( they were so thin, almost transparent as it was ). they would bare their fangs at louis and claudia, painted faces menacing as they reveled in bloodlust disguised as justice. he can feel their resentment as if it were tangible, just as he hears what they say when the pair leaves. louis and claudia sadly bound to rules they'd never learned ( convenient that he knows lestat wouldn't have taught them ). he dances around the subject of lestat, holding his knowledge close, his history with the infuriating blonde — the theatre's history — the players here would gleefully kill in his name.

claudia holds much of the responsibility and while armand has more fascination for the child vampire than malice, she's also the one thing in his way. she's much more alike to them than louis is. but the danger is closing in, the threads fraying and armand will count down until they snap. if they do, he tells himself, he won't lose louis. he'll be the hand for him to take. and louis will help usher in a successful curtain call.

he's so relentlessly hungry, it's as if louis has brought that gnawing back to the surface when he'd arrived. he wants the world. to see it, experience it, to indulge in it and while he can impart knowledge as an older vampire, louis could give him life. amber eyes all but plead for him to give into what he wants ( what they both want ). the way he looks back at him, the bite of his lip, even the movement of his hands, it's all observed in silence. he didn't need the mind gift to know that he's mulling it over, that he wants this. but he's justifiably hesitant.

armand's chin tilts up as fingers brush across his jaw, welcoming the touch, a soft breath exhaled. their foreheads touch and armand's hands lift to cup his face in his hands, thumb brushing his cheekbone as he whispers the words that he desperately wants to hear. no, they couldn't remain here, but they don't have to. it's claudia, however, that is still in the way. and armand can see how it tortures him to think of leaving her ( as if it were some cruel abandonment ). armand could ensure that he doesn't have to live with guilt for leaving. any obstacle in their way, he can clear.

❝ benevolent, ❞ he supposes he'd see himself as some kind of monster. and while claudia would never survive on her own, armand doesn't suggest that either. ❝ too often we grow to hate those who've made us. release her — let her have the life you couldn't give her. she'll love you still. but she won't need you. ❞

he remains close, eyes warm, open, studying louis's expression. ❝ think also about what you need. ❞ and let him be a part of that.

[esoterium]

emerald eyes remained shut. the ultimate showing of trust for a vampire who learned very early on that putting blind faith in someone? would only end up in it being broken. and thus? having your heart broken as well. because that is what happened between lestat and him. even in all his anger. all his vicious ferocity that he disposed of his marker with? louis's hard ached for him. still does in ways that he will never put a voice to. never fully allow himself to acknowledge or linger on long enough to feel the depth of. because there is disaster waiting for him there.

armand? he'll trust him. tentatively, yes. slowly. towards himself? he'd trust him even more. for claudia? when it comes to both of them towards one another? louis knows that trust? could be just as dangerous as acknowledging and letting himself feel the mourning he has for lestat.

release her. if it were so easy. he would've done it right that moment. the way armand's voice tangles itself inside of him. pulls strings that louis long thought were too frayed for anyone to grasp. it is not that simple, though. he loves her. even as her love turns to hatred so quickly. so much more often. he tells himself that it is deserved. what he's done to her? what he had a hand in condemning her to? deserves this punishment. her detachment. her hatred. yet, she loves him. how is he supposed to break away? when they've been sewn together in blood for so very long?

the pained expression that befalls the younger vampire writes it's way across his brow. forms creases in between both eyebrows. punches a wrinkle of it over his forehead. louis bites the corner of his lip between sharpened incisors. not enough to draw blood but it does bleed the color out. what color in them he has. long lashes open. he pulls away enough to meet chestnut hued eyes. their closeness is so palpable that he feels like he's pinned in place by it's heavy hold.

and he is.

"i don't know how to be without her. she's all i've known. the one constant i've had since i came into this life. how do i let her go when i don't know what i am without her?" he confesses between them, turning his cheek into the hand upon it. such a gentle show of affection. it's jarring in a way but he craves it enough to show he wants. maybe needs. it to stay. "why is the thought of what i might become without her so terrifying?"

@devourcr

[chernayavidua]

                 a small smile of her own tugs at the corners of her lips. “you don’t owe me anything, rogers. it’s the least i could do for her. she’s a friend after all.” there’s a pause as she downs the remainder of her drink. the taste is good, the burn is pleasant but the effects are not there. it is more about the action and having something in her hands so they won’t be treacherous and betray the feelings she forces herself to keep at bay. the stress. the worry. she’s noticed steve has a tendency to have that effect on her: to wiggle past her defenses and make her feel like she doesn’t always have to be in utmost control of her body, bending it to her will. it unsettles her to say the least.

                 “i know what it’s like to give everything to a country only for it to blindside you in the worst possible way.” natasha doesn’t meet his gaze when she says this, instead looks into her empty glass before turning around to refill it. those in her homeland marked her as a traitor and still see her that way to this day. and if she was being completely honest, she wouldn’t put it past this country to pull something similar with sharon. which was why she was going to use every single person in her web until someone could get her what she needed to help sharon.

                 she hums, glancing over her shoulder at him with an amused look on her features. “at this rate you’ll be owing me until we’re both old and grey.” 

                 her phone buzzes in the back pocket of her dark wash jeans causing her to set her glass and the bottle down on the mini bar. taking the device out, natasha unlocks it and looks at the message. she sighs, lips pressing into a thin line. the thing about cashing in favors with this particular contact of hers was that they thought it was a game and always tried asking for one more favor from her. putting her phone back in her pocket, she turns around to look at steve. she studies him for a moment before speaking. “i can see how personally you’re taking what happened to sharon and it isn’t your fault. she knew what helping you would mean. and she knows you're trying to help her.” 

                 the device buzzes once, twice, three times in quick succession but she ignores it. “you’re being stonewalled because of politics. shield isn’t going to do anything because getting out of the government’s doghouse is almost a reality and hill isn’t going to put that at risk now that she’s in charge.” a fleeting glance is sent to the chair he’d kicked before changing the subject. “how long do you want to stay here in bucharest? i can tell my contact you'll stay longer. i think you should consider it because breaking furniture isn’t going to make things move any faster.”

[esoterium]

a small, guilty grin spreads over steve's lips as his chin tucks towards the collar of his shirt. she's right. he'll owe her til they're both limping around with bad hips thanks to so much wear and tear they put themselves through. the thought makes him squint. he wonders how long that'd take. but the glass is lowered and he debates searching for more liquor. he blows out a breath at her observation. how could he not take what happened to sharon personally? it was his fault. he got her involved. he got her wrapped up in the mess. much deeper than she was in the beginning. and then the fall out? that was his fault, too.

he loathes feeling like he's let anyone down. especially those he cares about. and that knot for her formed in his gut. good luck getting him to let it go. he's as stubborn as nat is. probably worse. blue eyes toss her a look that says he hears her but he's not particularly listening. even if he's faking it by pursing his lips together and giving her a nod like he understands. like he gets it.

"yeah.. least she knows that. i don't want her to think i forgot."

"maybe a few more days. after that? i need to get back. you sticking around?" his voice lifts. it's obvious that he wants the answer to be yes. he gets it if she can't and won't push her. but having her around? makes things easier. not only in the field but.. mostly in the upstairs department. brain. in the brain. "sorry about the chair," he murmurs after her glance. "i'll..uh. make sure there's another one before we leave here." his head tilts. "you gonna keep ignoring that? or need me to step out?" it's his way of changing the subject. AGAIN. cause she's got a bad habit of not letting him get away with his dodgy attempts.

when did he let her get to know him too damn well?

[snnynaturalarch]

snnynatural you save everyone , but who saves you ?

[kaspgaytozier]

Did it work? well if you’re reading this, you know the answer | Requested by anonymous