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@fangbangs
Notice for all my primary muse blogs: @fangbangs, @clubthirst, @explicitcntent, @undeadmother
I am going to be semi-active until further notice. I will be posting replies to Tumblr when I have the time and/or energy, but I have been extremely tired in the past two weeks and want to let everyone know where my head is at. I feel like I’m too tired. Hope you’re all doing well, friends.
“hi, kids: do you like violence? wanna see me stick nine-inch nails through each one of my eyelids?”
EMINEM fc. nsfw writing. strong, adult language. uncensored by VAMP.
//: I'm not writing much today guys ( work, grrr ) ... but will do replies here soon. In the mean time, follow my other problematic son.
I’m planning to be at @fangbangs, @clubthirst, & @explicitcntent the most of any of my blogs.
geminaes:
It makes her spine immediately straighten, when she brings up her dead mother, sending a chill down her spine that makes her feel sick. She remembers the story, about what had happened the day at her father’s wedding when Jo Laughlin was murdered in cold blood, and the subsequent events that had lead Caroline Forbes to become their mother. If there was a way to strike a nerve with Lizzie Saltzman it was surely this. She thinks about what her dad would do now, if he were here, if he would sacrifice himself to save her or if he’d find a way to get them out of here before she decided to make them her last meal, before anyone else decided their time had come. She had stared death in the face before, but she had never felt so on the edge, like a gush of wind could blow her over.
Then she thinks about what the other people in her life would do. What Hope would do, if Hope knew something was up – she had no idea where she was or how she got here, but if her and her sister tracked her down, maybe they could track her before anyone had the chance to kill her. Lizzie’s hands ball into fists at her sides – she’s not a fighter, not physically, had always relied on her magic as leeway. But she doesn’t have any magic, and she doesn’t know how she would be able to get out of her binds in an attempt to overpower this woman.
“Fine”. She agrees through gritted teeth, refusing to let the fear reflect on her face, even though she knows her heart beats rapidly against her rib cage and that there’s no way she doesn’t hear it. “You haven’t asked me any stupid questions in the first place, so if you want answers, you should start asking them instead of villain monologuing. You’re terrible at this… And annoying.”
“Actually, if you took the shit out of your ears, you’d realize that I already did.” She had a spot of dried blood there. Probably from when I knocked her over the head... You know, before I steadily drew out enough of your blood to keep you weak, but not enough to kill you. “I asked about your earliest memories, but hey... since you’re so eager to take this show on the road, I’ll ask a different one.”
I grinned, “That way we can skip the foreplay and get straight to the good stuff.” My tongue played over the seam of my lips, head tilting slowly as I asked, “How much do you know about your family... on your mother’s side? And before you get smart: I’m not talking about Blondie, either.” My tongue clicked against the roof of my mouth.
“I only met Jo a handful of times before...” I let the silence spell out where my mind had veered off to, suppressing a wider grin at the thought of red staining the front of that gorgeous Vera Wang. “... you know. Figured you’d be a good person to ask, being a Gemini twin yourself. Your Coven has a... thing about those, don’t they?” My tongue popped against the roof of my mouth, the room so tense you could feel it in the air.
ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴜꜱᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜱʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ɴᴀᴍᴇ
ɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʏ 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝓈𝓅𝑒𝓇 ɪᴛ<
//: Sorry, been on my other blog while I get it set up. Will be on Damon soon <3
The Craft (1996)
ghostsandabsinthe:
Zoe runs her fingers through her hair. She had sworn she had just seen… but no. Not everything has to be supernatural in nature. Her eyes meet Damon’s again, and she shakes her head at herself. She waits for Damon to get back, processing what she thought she saw, and isn’t any more comforted.
“Fuck. I’m sorry. I just thought I saw…” The chance to come clean is right there, and she hovers at that precipice for a moment. She decides that half a truth is the best answer here. “…For a moment there, I thought Vicki was a ghost. And she mouthed the words ‘get out’ at me. Which– doesn’t exactly make a girl wanna stay around, fyi.”
Sure, Zoe’s used to seeing ghosts, but recently dead people still have a tendency to shake her up when she doesn’t expect to see them.
She can blame the weird messages on the fact that Vicki is clearly jealous, and is trying to drive Zoe away, which… on a level Zoe gets. Damon is clearly gorgeous, and a sex kitten, which is enough to drive Zoe crazy even on a bad day. Still, even if Vicki’s not a ghost, she makes a mental note to steer clear of her, because the girl is clearly unstable. Fuck, Zoe’s not even sure what she saw before. An echo? A hallucination?
“No. Believe me when I say that a solid 90% of the time I’m down for sex when someone looks the way you do.” A hand smoothes down the back of her neck. “I have no problem with saying no when I don’t want it. Just… unlike a lot of girls, spooky places aren’t exactly a turn on.” Horror movies are an entirely different story, but that’s not information she exactly wants to share right now. “Especially not when I think I see a very recently deceased ghost instead of a hundreds of years old one.”
Her gaze floats back upstairs, still feeling nervous rumblings in the pit of her stomach. Something about all of this isn’t sitting right with her, but she tucks those worries aside for the time being. “And wow did I make an ass of myself right there. I totally get if you want me to get the hell out right now. Otherwise, I’d love to see more of the house, now that all that weirdness is cleared up?”
Honestly, it even scared me to see the junkie up and walking, and that’s saying something. But her timing couldn’t have been any better if I planned it myself. It was probably better that I didn’t, though, so my expression seemed even more legit. If Vicki wasn’t such a miserable, worthless sack of shit, I’d kiss her: thanks to her, the game with Red Riding Hood could phase into the second-half... without me having to turn on the mind-meld. I already told you, I don’t want to wreck my hot streak.
I smirked, the tiniest crack in my expression, as Zoe sputtered. It was kinda cute to see her tripping all over herself. “A ghost?” I repeated, brows raising slowly, the smirk edging a little higher. “And here I thought we were just having some eye-sex with a side of playful back-and-forth. Didn’t think you were actually expecting to see floating sheets with holes cut out for eyes.”
I laughed, head tilting slightly, “Only ninety, huh?” My tongue slipped over a sharpened tooth, ignoring Vicki for the moment even though I was still holding her up. What are friends for or whatever, right? “Guess I’ll have to up my game then.” The cat was just having fun toying with the mouse at this point, leaning in a little closer to allow my lips to skirt lightly across her own before I was chaperoning the high schooler to Stefan’s bed to go beddy-bye. When I came back, it was nice to see Zoe still a little flustered.
I liked what it did to her pulse, the color it brought to her cheeks as the blood pooled there under the skin. “What kind of host would I be if I kicked you out over a misunderstanding?” I grinned, edging closer again. This time without the accessory hanging on my arm like dead weight. “Besides,” I breathed against her lips. “I have a feeling you can make it up to me pretty easily.” Playfully, my tongue peeked out to tease along her lower lip, fluttering there as light as a fucking butterfly’s wings. Not demanding her surrender, but asking for it. That’s how you really hook them in. Get them feeling safe. Comfortable.
fangbangs:
Hi, guys. Overloaded with work still, but I love you so much. Planning to be back tomorrow sometime. @manhattanopus, @belcva, @soulstcne, @gentleanne, & @brbievmp, I can’t wait to write with you guys <3 Also, I know I owe @rosefromdeath and @geminaes. Have I missed anyone?
Also, @petrovafounder, you’re awesome! We still need to plot, too.
Also, also @devilwithabrokenmind & @ghostsandabsinthe are some of the greatest people you will ever meet. Was that a Mean Girls reference? Possibly.
I need one more day to recoup from the stress of everything. Hit me up on Discord, though.
BITE ME, BITCH
Ind. Fem. Antagonist Portrayal.
nsfw. triggering content.
credit to @lennyicons / @bladedlegacy - lenny is a total legend. please support quality.
geminaes:
Never negotiate with terrorists. That’s her first rule. She’s had enough experience with monster, and traitors, and enemies trying to crawl their way under her skin to find her secrets and exploit them to know that. The more leeway you gave an enemy, the easier it was for them to find a way to defeat you. But its true, she can’t siphon her; Lizzie feels nothing when she gets close to her, when she drapes a jacket over her shoulders while monologuing about her villainous plans. Why did they always have a grand speech prepared? Lizzie thrashes against the chair, dropping the jacket folded over her shoulders onto the ground, teeth gritted so tightly there’s an ache in her jaw and a grind on her molars. Where was Hope Mikaelson and her heroics when you needed them?
“What the hell are you talking about?” She’s not amused. She’s scared, and frustrated, and her heart beats rapidly in her chest in a way that makes her ribs hurt. Its the same kind of fear that ignites whenever she has an episode, the fear of doing something wrong, of hurting someone – except this time, she’s afraid of getting hurt while tied up and defenseless, knowing she can’t do anything about it, that she could very well remain here if no one came to help her. What if no one did? What if her dad was too wrapped up in his own problems, and Josie too resentful to wonder where she is, or Hope, too angry to come save her? Is that the feeling of pushing everyone who could ever love you away, or is it her own brand of self-deprecating angst that has her lip trembling?
But if she’s learned anything else, is not to let anyone see her fears. So she decides to play another game, with a laugh that dies down as a scoff in the middle of her throat, and glaring blue eyes she uses to get a good look at her kidnapper. “He won’t come. You’re wasting your time. He’ll be too busy drinking in his office to notice I’m gone in the first place. And the rest of my family is dead. So, nice try, but you’re running headless into a plan with no tangible end. By the time you realize your mistake, I’ll figure out a way to free myself”.
“See,” my tongue smoothed over my gums again, soothing the ache for the the fangs to make an appearance. If I let them out, I’d want to bite. And if I bit, I’d probably kill her. Not because I didn’t know how to control the urge [I’m not my brother, okay?], but because the twerp was fucking annoying. No wonder Kai was planning on taking an axe to her skull. Doing the world a favor honestly. “... you’re starting to get on my nerves, Sabrina. And that’s not a place you want to be.” My tongue caught against the roof of my mouth, making a soft tsking sound.
“I’m getting the feeling like you don’t appreciate the stakes here,” I said, deathly calm as my brows rose slightly. “Also, save the ‘daddy hates me, no one cares’ b-s. I know your dad. We go back a-ways. And if there’s one thing I know about Ric: there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to save his little girls. Especially after losing Jo.” I smiled, a much darker smile this time. “I knew her, too. Was a guest at the wedding. Watched her get gutted like a fish, too...” I laughed a little, the sound ending on a whistle. “That livened things up.”
“You and I both know Ric is in real trouble here. You aren’t—- from me, at least—- but him?” My breath was against the witch’s ear now, cool and sharp, “I’m going to tear out his heart right in front of you unless you start answering my fucking questions.” I pulled back. Just enough for her to catch the glint in my eyes. “So, what’s it gonna be, Blondie? You gonna start talking or do you want to watch daddy go bye-bye... and die a painful death... knowing that it’s all your fault?”
ghostsandabsinthe:
Shit. Damon had noticed. Of course Damon had noticed. Blue eyes skate back to her lovely hostess, apologetic. “I was just… trying to remember if I had any other meetings planned for tomorrow, which might put a whole damper on me staying the night. At least, in the way I’d prefer to.” She rubs the back of her neck, letting out a sigh. “Lately, it’s been all work and no play, unfortunately. Which makes me a very dull girl. You know how boys clubs are, though. Need to make sure you’re serious, by working you to the bone.”
Damon just had to mention biting, didn’t she? If Zoe’s got a weakness for anything, it’s pretty dark haired people trying to bite her– blame that entirely on watching too much Dracula, and Dracula’s Daughter. Damon’s not helping with that whole vibe, especially with that intense stare of hers. She’s definitely gonna need a cold shower, when all is said and done– even more so when it’s clear that the other woman knows what she’s doing here. “Also, I never said biting was entirely a bad thing, especially when it comes to pretty women.”
As soon as she says that, she hears a noise come from the ghost, and tries not to wig out again. It’s not often she comes across ghosts who are so adamantly trying to get her attention. “Also… I’m worried. Are you sure your friend is okay?” Zoe asks with sudden concern, looking over in the direction of the couch. She sees the ghost mouth the words; GET OUT.
That gets Zoe’s attention, and the ghost finally speaks, “she wants to eat you.” As Zoe tilts her head trying to figure out how this is a bad thing, the ghost clarifies. “As in… kill you?”
Well, fuck. Go figure she’d end up in the house of a very attractive murderer with Fairuza-y Balk eyes while investigating hauntings. Her gaze goes back to Damon, trying to figure out how the hell to get the hell out of this situation without seeming like she’s flaking out, or is completely batshit. Not that it’d be the end of the world if a person she’d likely never see again thought those things about her, but still. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t low-key bug her.
“Ah, right, the weekly snobby architecture appreciation meetings you totally can’t skip or else they revoke your cult-status. Got it.” My voice dipped a little lower, maybe a thread of suspicion bleeding in there. “Definitely explains the deer-in-the-headlights thing.” Sarcasm much? I couldn’t help it. Something was off, and I didn’t like it. I tried not to look too disappointed, palm running across the back of my neck. “... You know you could just say you don’t want to sleep over. Dinner doesn’t have to mean sex.”
I could compel her to stay. Annnnnd tell me what gives with the weird looks all of the sudden: that subtle hint of fear in the air, something bitter in the sweetness. But where’s the fun in that? In nearly two centuries, I’d bagged girl after girl through charm alone. Even through the super repressed Victorian age. Why should she be the one to fuck up my hot-streak?
Come on, now. Unlike my wet blanket of a brother. I actually have game, fuck you very much.
“Am I that much of an asshole that you have to lie?” [Yes, but she doesn’t know that.] When she mentioned my friend, though, I had to fight the urge to look at her like she was nuts... but then I remembered. Right. The addict. V-something. Valerie? No. Vicki.
“I mean... I assume she’s fine. People with hangovers have been known to sleep like the dead. But if you think I should—-”
As I turned to make a show of heading back downstairs, even I was surprised to see Vicki at the foot of them... you know. Up and moving. Breathing in general. “There she is,” I said with a grin, looking back at Zoe before I took the stairs at a faster human pace.
Shit, she still had my blood in her system from last night. It’s fine, though. As long as she doesn’t bite anyone before sunrise, she’ll still die. And even if she did—- I’d rip out her heart before I let her turn. Like I was really going to have her tailing my ass like the ugly duckling because of the sire bond.
“Hey, sweetie, you doing alright?” I asked as she clung to me, pale and probably about three seconds from hurling her guts up. Ah, I do not miss those days.
“Damon?” she choked softly, clinging tighter to my arm. “It hurts. And why does the sun burn?”
“It’s called a hangover,” I said, slinging her arm over my shoulder and helping her up the staircase. “Come on, let’s get you to a bed, huh? You can sleep in Stefan’s room.” I personally didn’t have a fetish for letting corpses into mine, so... he could deal. Kinda funny, though: even half-dead, Vicki still flashed Zoe a very jealous look on the way by.
See? What’d I say? Charm.
eight people i’d like to get to know better
tagged by: @fashionfangs tagging: @bladedlegacy, @gentleanne, @rosefromdeath, @manhattanopus, @belcva, @newbrn, @soulstcne
one - (alias / name): Vamp
two - (birthday): July 28th
three - ( zodiac sign): Leo
four - (height): 5′2″
five - (hobbies): Video editing, film, reading, writing, & music
six - (favorite color): Red / Black
seven - (favorite books): The Millennium Trilogy, Harry Potter, The Picture of Dorian Gray
nine - (last film or show watched) : The Queen of the Damned
ten - (inspiration for muse): Damon’s canon sass and villainy in early seasons. Neve Campbell’s gorgeous self. Writing with @devilwithabrokenmind and @ghostsandabsinthe.
eleven - (story behind url) : fangbangs, fang is obvious... and then bangs... as in sex, because Damon is super sexual. And most of the time isn’t about nice, gentle romance. She bangs.
𝒕𝒚𝒑𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆 : 𝒅𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔
adapted from this post ! bold what applies to your muse. repost ; do NOT reblog.
𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙸𝙰𝙽 » toothy grins, stories around the campfire, clothes covered in pet hair, hot temper, old jeans, heartbeat in head, potatoes and steak (very rare), beaded jewelry, bruises like galaxies, mementos, backpack stuffed full, craigslist furniture, spontaneous road trips, air ripped from lungs.
𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙳 » homemade bread, white lies, easily excited, trying on hats, band geek, pep talks, no impulse control, sunsets, vintage fashion, long showers, selfies, following dreams, rosy cheeks, song mash-ups, pink lemonade with tequila, loves easily, animated storyteller, full of comebacks.
𝙲𝙻𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙲 » list of wishes, biting their tongue (literally, yes, figuratively no), band-aids and neosporin, shoulder to cry on, morning sun, necklaces, trial and error, homemade quilts, formal clothing, astrology fan, messages in bottles, pleated braids, speaking up for friends, feathers, motivational quotes, vivid dreams.
𝙳𝚁𝚄𝙸𝙳 » bird watching, shy kid, wind chimes, trying to whistle, summer camp, apple orchards, lost in their head, glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling, hoodies, thrift shopping, saving worms off the sidewalk, latin, bare feet, thunderstorms, numb fingers, braided hair, naming potted plants.
𝙵𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃𝙴𝚁 » goosebumps, leather jackets, adventure, chewing nails, cares deeply but can’t show it, bronze locks, no sleep, taste of iron, netflix binges, never forgets, combat boots, stories behind scars, table for one, official soundtracks, sore calves, trusts themselves the most.
𝙼𝙾𝙽𝙺 » always trying to be better, wanderlust, meditation, sweatpants, old photographs, yoga, sleeping in hammocks, nostalgia, minimalist design, breath of fresh air, baby animals, volunteering, perfectionist, doesn’t care about fashion, healthy snacks, noticing the little things.
𝙿𝙰𝙻𝙰𝙳𝙸𝙽 » school uniforms, thick jackets, sleeping with the windows open, logical advice, scrapbooking, compasses, i fight for my friends, sculpture gardens, cold morning air, big soul, likes routine, secret romantic, last to get jokes, sunflowers, practical presents, misty weather.
𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙶𝙴𝚁 » herbal tea, smell of rain, blinking away tears, camping trips, collecting bones, swiss army knives, first impressions, anxious thoughts, bobby pins, burnt marshmallows, too competitive, clothes lines, messenger bags, holding grudges, gets along better with animals than people.
𝚁𝙾𝙶𝚄𝙴 » flirtatious sarcasm, candid photos, lost phone chargers, adrenaline rush, picking dirt out from beneath their nails, social chameleon, clashing clothes, self-deprecating jokes, claw machines, sits in chairs wrong, smudged eyeliner, has too many sunglasses, eats nothing or everything.
𝚂𝙾𝚁𝙲𝙴𝚁𝙴𝚁 » infectious laugh, family trees, shivers down their spine, lipstick and roses, mood swings, clumsy, believing in destiny, high expectations, sleeping in darkness, collection of nail polish, passionate, good grades but never studies, poetry books, blowing kisses, not knowing their own strength.
𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙺 » knowing everyone’s secrets, backpack covered in pins, envy, being in walmart late at night, earl grey, selective memory, conspiracy theories and cryptids, keysmashing, need to know basis, can’t cook, bags under eyes, experimental art, flickering bulbs, black clothing all year long.
𝚆𝙸𝚉𝙰𝚁𝙳 » piles of books, cat in lap, keeping a diary, indecision, scented candles, studying alone in a café, lingering touches, museum dates, unanswered questions, taking on too much responsibility, collections, chalk dust, comfy robes, unnecessary apologies, coming home after a long day.
tagged by: @gentleanne tagging: @devilwithabrokenmind, @ghostsandabsinthe, @fashionfangs, @rosefromdeath, @bladedlegacy, @manhattanopus, @newbrn, @soulstcne; you!
Kaimon Aesthetic | @devilwithabrokenmind insp. by x.
I don’t need you messin’ around, if I can’t have you no one will, I love you, & I don’t care if you don’t want me, ‘cause I’m yours, yours, yours—- anyhow! I put a spell on you, because you’re mine.
💀
@fashionfangs
Some kids find ways to interrupt their parents when they’re about to get laid. Apparently, mine chose to do it whenever I was sealing the deal with some blood bag, instead—- my teeth, their neck. Tonight it was a redhead, about my height, kinda pretty... And already turning purple. Human eyes wouldn’t see that shit yet, but vampires... well, being dead ourselves, I guess we were just closer to it. Bye-bye, Suzie.
At least—- I think that’s what she said her name was while we were knocking ‘em back at the bar. Ah, well. She can’t bitch about it now, limp and slumped down into the couch cushions.
“Any particular reason you pick these moments to bust in for some family-bonding time?” I asked, wiping the blood from my mouth as a grin settled across it. “Need help with your schoolwork or something, kiddo?” Kidding.
“You’re lucky I love you.” Not kidding. Then again, I’m pretty lucky on the days Ali loves me, too. Not that I’m going to tell her. Sharing wasn’t really my strong suit. Hasn’t been for a long time. —- Not since I was young and dumb and in love.
💀
@soulstcne
This wasn’t the first shit hole diner I’d been to, and it wouldn’t be the last. It wasn’t exactly like I was here for the coffee, anyways. No. I was here—- to grab a bite. Not a slice of cake, you fucking moron. An addict. A sex worker. Mental patient. I wasn’t picky. It just needed to be the type of person that could go under the radar for weeks before anyone cared enough to realize that they were gone.
And, as if on cue, a junkie walked in through the front door—- he looked clean enough, but he couldn’t hide that his blood smelled like shit. I could have probably gone for someone tastier, but... I was trying to stay under the radar. I want it to be a surprise when I show up on Saint Stefan’s doorstep. To make good on that promise I made all those years ago.
Anyway, I started chatting up the guy at the counter. Getting him to follow me outside was easy enough even without compulsion. What blood bags won’t do for a pretty face. So, about the time I’m out back with the kid against the wall, fangs clinched to his carotid—- I hear the door to the kitchen open, tearing my teeth from his open-wound and staring down an admittedly pretty little thing. The kid I was just fangs-deep in drops. Dead as a doornail.
Wiping the blood from my mouth with a smirk, I took a step closer to her: “It’s not what it looks like.” Yeah. Right.
