tagging those vampire chronicles people who haunt dean and that i cherish completely! plus.. i kinda need this on my blog. the vibes are impeccable!
@eladead // @devourcr && @hostiae
seen from Hungary
seen from United States
seen from Japan
seen from New Zealand
seen from United Kingdom
seen from China

seen from Türkiye
seen from China
seen from Saudi Arabia

seen from United States
seen from Singapore

seen from Australia
seen from Yemen
seen from Germany
seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

seen from Estonia
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from China
tagging those vampire chronicles people who haunt dean and that i cherish completely! plus.. i kinda need this on my blog. the vibes are impeccable!
@eladead // @devourcr && @hostiae
things were not supposed to go this way. it's embarrassing, in fact, that they did; loras is a better fighter than this, a better hunter, not used to coming off worse and unable to handle it well. even after willas' injury, after attending funerals, he never considered that he would be caught out; confidence has always run through loras' veins, hot and bright. but perhaps the blow to his ego would hurt more, if not for the fact that he's pretty sure he's dying. it's a little hard to worry about your dignity when your life is literally slipping through your fingers; loras doesn't think he has the strength to press as hard on this wound as it needs, because he's still bleeding.
which is all a bit shit, really. he's too young for this.
loras closes his eyes, sinking to the ground, forcing himself to press harder on the wound to his neck even as it makes him grunt in pain. approaching footsteps, thank god, at least mean he can ask for help—but when he opens too-heavy eyes, he finds himself scowling instead. ❝ you, ❞ he grinds out to the vampire who is the bane of his existence (and the person he finds himself thinking about constantly, even when he's alone. especially when he's alone). of course it's him.
desperate to cling to something, he makes one half-hearted attempt to stand, but his limbs are heavy and he's now cold enough that he's trembling, numbness setting in, so loras sinks back against the brick and pouts. not, of course, that he'd admit to that. ❝ please wait to gloat until after i'm dead. it — fuck — it shouldn't be long. ❞
@hostiae
BALDUR'S GATE 3
Lusca Auer for @hostiae ↳ high half-elf ☀ paladin ☀ oath of vengeance
trouble's always gonna find you, baby. ( lestat ) // @hostiae //
a surprisingly warm kind of smile on his lips and armand's body visibly relaxes. hand that had been tucked into trouser pocket is removed and instead, comes up to fish into jacket pocket for cigarette pack-- one offered, his own lit with a flourish of fingertips.
there's a long, deep sigh that comes from the vampire as he moves, coming to rest himself upon the edge of sofa back-- ratty thing, no doubt belonging to the venue as opposed to the star opposite him. armand smiles as he looks to the blonde.
"i suppose you understand that notion all too well, don't you?" a head tilt, and there is no malicious intent with his words. if anything, there is something... softer about armand's gaze for now. "but you've leaned into finding trouble rather well... i suppose i am... trying to do the same now. trying something new in hopes it might work out a little better."
Claudia sighed and slumped in the seat as best as she could considering there was no back to it. She rested her hands lightly on the piano keys so they wouldn't make any sound and then swung her head round to look at Lestat, standing beside her, having been instructing her for the past however many hours. She didn't keep track of time any more these days. She didn't really need to. She was a vampire, the only thing she needed to fear was the sun and she could sense when it was about to rise.
"Les, why have I gotta do this? You're the best piano player I've ever met and I know I won't get better than you. Can't I pick another instrument please?" Her expression was gently pleading and she knew that she was giving him the puppy eyes like Louis called it.
@hostiae
@hostiae liked for a short starter | Ji - Woon (The Trickster)
Dwight sets down his flashlight at the killer's feet, warily, as a gesture of . . . good faith? He wasn't really sure, but maybe the offering would speak louder than the words he wasn't capable of mustering. He'd try anything to keep himself from even one more blade in his body, at this point . . .
@hostiae || a meme from this tag! || accepting!
forehead, sender presses their forehead against receiver's. ( billy to stu )
stu was a ball of energy. a wave of anxiety and nerves and too many feelings he didn't particularly care about having. swelling up from the arches of his feet to his stomach, chest. up tightening arms. down his fingers that twitched at his sides and made the bones and sinew inside of them ache. at first, those long and slender digits lifted to scratch the back of his neck. maybe a bit too hard. judging by the pink streaks left behind on light colored skin. truth of the fucking matter is; he was getting fucking tired of holding everything in. so much that his brain felt like it was gonna be the next thing to explode. right through his skull.
you know? like splatter all over the fucking ceiling, walls. you name it!
there's all this fucking pretending. with tatum. with sidney. with himself. lies and lies and he's usually like ninety-nine percent of the fucking time--or close to it okay with that. it's just that knowing where billy just was and now where he is. sidney's and now at his place? considering what the fuck they're doing. and why he's doing it. deep down. underneath all the pretense and how fucked up he's convinced himself he is..or been convinced..or..whofuckingknowsanymore and he doesn't care. it just makes him feel shitty. and angry. and turns his stomach inside out.
all he wanted was a fucking mountain dew. he has billy backed up against the fridge, palm slammed into the freezer above the other's head. it just happens. their mouths connect and he's barely aware that he's the one that made the move until it's over and he's licking billy's taste off his lips with a stupified expression on his face.
"i don't know, man." hand immediately swings up to the back of his head. nails dig into his scalp. "let's just not make a big deal out of it, okay?" he can feel his heart pounding in his chest while immediately dropping through the floor. fuck me. what'd i just do? then billy's fingers tug his hair, scrape his skin (damn near hard enough to draw blood, he hisses and it burns but he likes it) and their forehead's touch. stu figures he's fucked up real bad and this is about to go to shit s t u p i d fast. "i'm fucking sorry."
@hostiae asked:
❛ you want me to shut him up for you? ❜ ( billy to sam )
Sam hesitated for a moment, her mind racing with conflicting thoughts. Billy, known for his rebellious nature and questionable associations, had always been a wildcard in their small town. But right now, Sam found herself desperate for a solution to the problem at hand. As she weighed her options, Samantha couldn't help but feel torn. On one hand, she understood that resorting to violence was never the answer. But on the other hand, the potential to silence the ex who had been hounding her for weeks was highly tempting.
Sam turned away from her father to face the counter. Her eyes landed on a rack that held various knives on display. She plucked one from its sleeve and ran her fingertips along its sharp edge before turning back to her father. " How about we both shut him up? " There was a darkness lingering in her eyes. She has had enough of his stalking and threats. It was time to take matters into her own hands and put an end to his torment once and for all. The thought of silencing him filled her with a mix of fear and empowerment, but she knew it was the only way to reclaim her peace of mind. She was ready to embrace the darkness that had consumed her life for so long. What better way to do it than with her father at her side?