About me – Hi, I’m Hamlet! I go by any pronouns. I’m 20y old, queer, neurodivergent and mixed person.
About this blog – This is a mostly dark xreader blog. So the contents you may find here may include : non-con, yandere content, incest, violent descriptions, uncomfortable matters. Be always aware of the triggers!
Minors, consider this your warning. If I see you interacting with my posts, I will have to unfortunately block you. The media you consume it’s solely your responsibility.
Fandoms I will write for –
A Court of Thorns and Roses
AMC Series Interview With The Vampire
Caraval
Once Upon a Broken Heart
The Folk of The Air Series
Resident Evil
Rules –
I will write: Smut, GN reader, Female aligned reader, AFAB reader, AMAB reader, yandere content, non-con, dub-con, incest, gore, platonic relationships, etcetera…
I will not write: Pedophilia, anything related to any body fluids (except: blood, cum, tears and salive/breast milk if I’m in a good mood), OCs, yandere reader, very specific readers, reader who is fine with the toxic behavior, etcetera….
Any changes will be informed beforehand.
I can write drabbles, headcanons, one-shots and full series. Just be specific on what do you want.
I’m a slow writer, so keep that in mind when your request is taking a while. In that note, I also will take full liberty in not writing your request/deleting your ask.
Don’t even bother telling me I’m morally corrupt or straight up evil for what I write. Just block me and be done with it.
Yes, anons can choose emojis. Just warn me beforehand.
Summary: Ever since you met that beautiful – and strange – man at the park, your life was turned upside down to nurture the desires of two lonely vampires.
Notes: There it is, the winner of the poll. I'm a show-only loser and english is not my first language, so please keep that in mind. I would have written this as a full one-shot, but I’m quite busy so it is just some headcanons. If anyone still want me to write the other two options, just send a request. Enjoy!
You saw him first. Hopping along the rocky streets of San Francisco, your recently polished shoes clacking against the rocks on the floor. Snapping photos with your old camera of the pedestrians and establishments. You weren’t thinking of anything specific to photograph, just moving to catch whatever attracted your eye. When you stopped at the park.
Children ran free by the grass, screaming in excitement until they couldn’t breathe, playing tag, or maybe they were playing off being pirates – or super heros. You could see adults – presumably their parents – atop picnic blankets and wooden tables, chatting amongst each other in a casual manner. Aiming your camera at the scene, you held your breath when you saw a young man in the background, watching the people as you did.
He was tall, strangely so since his stiff posture made you think of a shy child. His dark skin shone against the bright sun. His hair fell on his shoulders in little, delicate waves. He was beautiful, striking even, something in him reminded you of a piece that belonged in a museum.
His eyes, big and brown, were drowning within a profound longing. Was longing the right word? It didn’t feel right.
Then you shyly approached his young form, hesitant steps along the pavement. Maybe it was pity. Maybe something on him sparked interest in you. Maybe you just saw yourself inside those eyes.
Armand was surprisingly easy to talk to. You two spilled in a conversation about how the city changed over the years. He told you he has recently arrived in the city with a friend. And you told him about yourself too, family, friends, jobs, your passion for photography. It was nice, if it wasn’t for the moments where Armand would stare at you when you speak, his eyes burning into yours, as if he could somehow see inside your mind and read your thoughts.
As you left, your mind wandered what his deal was before quickly shrugging off. It’s not like you would ever see him again? Right?
And you were right. You wouldn’t see him again, but he would see you plenty. Again and again.
Of course, he spent the last weeks carefully learning everything he could about you. Where you lived – a small, cheap apartment close to the center of the city. How many clothes you owned – twenty two. Which path you took for your job – two blocks straight, right, left, and right again. The way you held a drink – right hand, fingers relaxed against the cup, almost daring to drop. Everything he couldn’t see by reading your thoughts. If you would fit with him and Louis. The results were promising.
Watching you pass your days, eating greasy, low effort put, food with a shy grin, the way you would get easily startled by the sudden sounds coming from your window, how you preferred to quietly watch people go about their days – just like him – instead of putting yourself to talk with them. You reminded Armand of a deer.
He wasn’t certain why exactly he was doing this. If it was some sort of attempt of apology for what he did to Claudia. Or if he was simply jealous of the family Louis had with Lestat and wanted to do the same, this time better. Or if he just attached to your feeble mortality and youthful self. The way you carried no burdens on your shoulders… he almost felt guilty for throwing rocks at your glass house.
So, after months of making sure you would be perfect for the part he had for you. Carefully breaking into your house, taking on what he could, and dismissing Louis’ questions about his whereabouts. He watched you enough. Mornings. Afternoons. Nights. Enough time to almost feel like you two were already a family. Only then did he approach you again.
As always, he watched you from your window – you were getting ready, preparing yourself to go to a bar – you were nervous. He didn’t even need to read your mind to know. Just by watching the way you frequently wiped sweat off your palms every few minutes he could tell.
In the bar – tacky place, his nose twisted – you sat in one of the corners, the flashing lights would give you a migraine soon and the alcohol wasn’t hitting like it was supposed to. He sat in front of you, an awkward smile plastered on his face. There would be no mistakes this time. Louis would see.
With his newfound research, it was almost impossible to not charm you into his embrace. You found his staring unsettling? He had mastered how many seconds he could look at your eyes before politely turning his gaze. You liked cats? He mentions the majestic orange cat that often appears in his apartment’s window. The friend he mentioned also likes photography, do you know?
Before you notice, you are following Armand to an alley behind the bar. You cross your arms and press yourself against the wall. Something on your chest clenched. A dreadful lump in your thoughts. You decided to ignore the sirens in your head by thinking how beautiful Armand looked in his button up green shirt and high waist pants.
But instead of initiating anything, he started to talk. Your muscles went rigid as he mentioned how much of a good fit you would be to his family, how much “Louis” would like you, how much happier you three would be. And suddenly you couldn’t move, his eyes burning into your souls as thousands of needles punctured every nerve of your body. You couldn’t bolt. You couldn’t push.
His face was closer now, warm breath brushing against your erratic one. Empty eyes taking hold of your mind– ack!
White pain washed over your head as his teeth sank inside the flesh of your neck. Hot blood gushed into his mouth. Your memories flashed inside Armand’s mind. The momentarily empty memories of a fragile mortal. He sensed your despair, your fear – like a squirming fawn against the jaws of a wolf. His arms enlaced around your waist as he felt your thoughts become lighter and lighter. Armand couldn’t help but notice how small you looked under the blanket of unconsciousness. For a moment, his thumbs caressing the fragile skin of your cheeks, he considered just taking you home instead.
Louis was not happy. Struck with a blind wrath of a sight of a still alive human laid at his couch, he was sure he would throw it out of the window after what Armand dared to propose. To give them the dark gift – to be their child.
How dare he? To pull this shit after everything. After what they– he did to Claudia. To propose replacing her? What he’s thinking?!
And they discussed; Armand’s calm demeanor twisting Louis’ nerves. Affirmations of this being a second chance, not a replacement. Promises that they could do better, that they are better in response to his fears of dooming another soul. When a sob echoed through the room, breaking from your own throat as fat, quiet tears streamed down your face.
Your frantic heartbeats thundered in Louis’ ears. Desperately. Thump thump thump thump. It muffled the sound of your nonsensical babbles for mercy. He could only focus on your eyes. Your trembling, watery, mortal eyes. Begging for his help. How many times did Claudia look at him in the same way?
His eyes went over Armand’s, who stared at you two with an unreadable expression. A silent conversation went over them, not even with their thoughts. Just a single shared look and Daddy Lou had once again returned.
One of his hands came to rest over your eyes, feeling in his skin as your sobs shook your whole body – he couldn’t do it otherwise. And bit the reddish, harmed skin of your neck. Your cries intensified, it hurt so much, Louis felt like actually killing a child. Through your eyes he could see your life, feel it. You two shared many interests – how lovely. He repeated again and again in his head, it’s for the best, this time it will be better.
And, when you finally sat up, screaming and demanding about what they had done to you. Louis could only give a sad smile as he walked away, not wanting to see what was next – seeing Armand erase a lifetime of memories, family, friends and moments until there was only a blank state for them to mold. He would finally have a family again.
Even with the rather rocky start, life with those two is not all bad. Especially now that your heart has been remade to beat only for them – no grudges! Louis and Armand in the end of things just want your adoration and company. Give that freely and your 90% in the way of a perfect, peaceful life.
Louis had turned others before. Madeleine, however, had always been more Claudia’s creation than his. He could sense the bond between maker and fledgling, but he had never truly known Madeleine. His role in her immortality had always been for Claudia’s sake. But with you?
He couldn’t read your thoughts anymore, nor could you read his. However, the bonds that formed between the bite and turning were almost as strong. He felt you in his mind all the time and soon your feelings became his too. He hoped you felt the same.
He found joy in bringing you to his little getaways in gay bars – teaching you how to hunt, to use your gifts for the best outcome. Beaming like the sun when you proved to be a great student. It reminded him of his initial years with Lestat.
He would share with you some of his stories – no mentions of who made him or the reason of why he grieved so much. But things like his childhood in New Orleans or his late passions, like photography. He even showed you his old camera. You can feel his grin shrinking when you say you don’t remember ever taking a photo before.
Armand is not behind in any way. He's almost desperate in his pursuit of your love. Your meals are hunted directly by him, and sometimes on him. Laying down in his coffin at the first rays of sun, snuggling in his chest, Armand will simply offer his wrist. His nails will scrap your scalp as you suck on his blood. It’s his favorite bonding activity.
While Louis teaches you how to be a proper vampire, Armand teaches you how to deal with your new life. He gives you thousands of hobbies; piano, chess, reading or even cooking meals you couldn’t possibly eat. All so you can stay close.
He is not fond of telling stories of his life as much as Louis is, but if you ask, he shall weave some tales in his time as leader and director of the Théâtre des Vampires.
Where misbehaving will get you depends on who is on the receiving end. Louis almost embraces the certainty that anger brings. For a few brief moments, it drowns out the guilt. He won’t do anything harsh – at least you hope – but you get away unscathed. Emotionally speaking of course, haha!
With Armand it will depend on who he's feeling like that night. If it is the Good Nurse, then he will simply remind you how good, how better your life is since they arrived, innocently offering you a place at his side and his duty fully prepared wrist. If it is the Gremlin though… Well, he can just terrorize you back to your place.
Your new life is so perfect now, right? Nothing can, nothing will disturb it. Not even the new and fascinating boy brought to your home to his death.
I’ve realized that people will feel more comfortable making requests if they know how my writing style works. So here are some things I’m in the mood of writing
(All platonic because we will start vanilla for now)
