thank you for the tag @sceletaflores!! apologies for never shutting up about this fic, buut... here's another snippet from a tragedy (to love a monster)
vampire!logan x f!reader
Your body crowded him against the door, nails rubbing against his scalp, fingers twisting in his hair to pull his mouth to yours. He kissed you like a glutton feasting, like no amount of deer’s blood could sate his hunger for you. Rough, calloused hands wrapped around your waist, a constant reassurance of he’s here, he’s here, he’s here.
Your lips moved against each other with an ease of familiarity that grows only with time. In the months you have spent together, he had carved out a little piece of your heart and buried it deep within his chest.
Thoughts trailing to his fangs as he kissed down your neck before taking your breast between his lips. You imagined the sharp sting of them, if they sunk into the velvety skin of your neck. How the heady scent of cooper would fill the air; the pleasant lightheadedness you would feel as he drank you down. Would it feel like floating?
Their allure was never dulled by their monstrosity, by what they represented. That you could not take care of James as you had before; that he did not need the feather-soft touch of your fingertips, nor for you to slow your pace when you walked side-by-side through the gardens.
They also presented opportunity. If you could make yourself necessary to him again, you could be certain he would never be able to break the oath he took tonight.
He loves me, he loves me, he will always love me.
It could be just as it was before. As certain as an equation inked in Charles' scrawled writing. James and you. Bound together by words spoken into the dark, by a maroon-dipped thread that pulled tight between your chests.
You could sense it when he fed, when he hunted, when he fucked. He wanted you; a craving that ran deeper than lust. A hunger born a cavernous place within his soul, so dark that you only caught glimpses of it.
Even so, you knew James. In the season since he had entered your life, he had become a constant like tea in the morning, the silken pillow beneath your cheek at night. You were certain he would never let himself have you as he wanted to. Would not dare to even ask such a thing of you. But if you were to ask it of him?
A lamb for slaughter, you led the wolf to your bed.
it is quite distinctly not wednesday, but if anybody else wants to share what they are working on, i would love to see!
id : a rendered digital drawing of virgil and vampire logan from the waist up, seemingly moving in opposite directions. virgil is at the front, with purple hair and cape, leather gloves, white shirt, glowing green tattoos and earrings, and holding a heavy leather book with a shining green gem in the middle. logan is behind them, holding a pocket watch in his gloved hand. he wears a long indigo cape with a high collar, held by skull clasps, a white puffy shirt and a red cravat. he has red eyes and dark hair, looking in virgil's direction with a smile that shows his fangs./end id
trying to go slightly less saturated but i'm actually quite happy with this one and so far it's my favourite for this week!
day 4 @analogicalweek : au and i happily dusted off my old vampire logan sketch and made virgil a necromancer (he accidentally stole my heart whoops) and @5-falsehoods-phonated really did a lovely story from that
Vampire!Logan in Analogical is something I’m so weak for, thusly, this oneshot exists.
Virgil paces the floor, anxiety clouding every jumbled thought. He’s been working himself up for weeks now, trying to find the best moment to brooch the subject. There were so many moments where things almost felt perfect, but then his nerves would kick in, or Logan would say something to completely change the subject.
Eventually, Virgil comes to the uncomfortable conclusion that no matter how much he wishes it worked otherwise they’ll never be a perfect time to say it. He’s just going to have to bite the bullet and spit it out. He can do that. Of course, he can do that…, right?
He has to do this, regardless of how terrified he is. And good lord, is he terrified.
It’s not as though Virgil thought this subject would never need to come up but dating a vampire doesn’t exactly come with an instruction pamphlet. He had no idea that he was going to meet Logan, like him more than he’s ever liked another person, and eventually fall so deeply in love that he can’t imagine himself with anyone else.
He’d gone into their relationship five years ago with very few expectations. Logan was cute, and he understood him, and they’d already been friends for some time and… and he was a vampire. Virgil supposes that would’ve been a deal-breaker for most people. Maybe it should’ve been for him too. Maybe it was the most logical way of thinking. But he couldn’t help it; he fell for Logan almost from the start, and he couldn’t stop if he tried.
Virgil’s learned a lot about vampirism in the last five years. For one thing, movies are usually a bunch of bullshit (Sexy, fun bullshit. But bullshit, nonetheless). Vampires don’t always have to drink human blood, though it is preferable, and they can eat some other foods, though it offers far less nutritional value than it would for humans. They aren’t strictly nocturnal, and the sunlight will not turn them to a pile of ashes the moment it makes contact with their skin (although Logan does get a wicked sunburn if he’s out too long without proper covering). Garlic does very little to ward off vampires, but garlic-breath does, unfortunately, ward off kisses.
Having one’s blood sucked isn’t nearly as painful as it’s often portrayed, nor as orgasmic. It’s just kind of… nice. Virgil’s always thought of it as a feeling of weightlessness, a kind of peace that’s hard to name, and even harder to find anyplace else. Honestly, he’s going to miss the feeling, if Logan agrees, that is.
Logan isn’t home yet, but it isn’t uncommon for him to stay late at the lab. Virgil’s glad that Logan’s been able to find a profession that he’s happy in. He knows that Logan would be far more known in his field, were it not for the fact that he cannot stay forever. Vampires do not live forever, contrary to popular belief, but they do live for a very long time, and it looks quite suspicious if one works a job for decades and never really seems to age. Logan’s only been alive for about twenty more years than Virgil has, but he’s had several other jobs under other last names in the past, and this is by far the one he’s enjoyed the most.
His boyfriend is such a smart, competent scientist and he’s sure he’d be world-famous by now if he didn’t hold himself back at times in fear of his name and face becoming known. That would make running away and changing one’s identity all the more difficult.
Virgil knows this conversation won’t be an easy one. Logan has pointedly avoided the topic for some time. It’s not as though Virgil doesn’t know that this is a life-altering decision; or more of a life-ending decision, depending on how you look at it. He’s weighed the pros and cons time and time again, but in the end, he always comes to the same conclusion: Virgil wants this.
His determination doesn’t make him any less nervous when he hears the door to their apartment open as Logan unlocks it, his heart leaping in his chest.
“Hey. Sorry, I know I stayed late,” Logan says as he slips off his shoes and jacket, his voice thick with exhaustion, “It’s been a hell of a day.”
“It’s okay. Sorry you had a shitty day,” Virgil says, walking to the doorway and pulling him in for a kiss, but pulling away after a lack of response, “Hey, are you good?”
Logan doesn’t look good. His skin is always quite pale (a stereotype that holds up, but he also works in a lab most of the day), but it’s even more so now. The always-present bags under his eyes are far more severe than usual, rivaling the eye-shadow Virgil wears. Logan looks dead-tired, and god, that won’t do, will it?
“I’m…” Logan sways slightly where he stands, up-righted by Virgil, “…fine.”
“Bullshit,” Virgil says, eyeing him carefully, “When was the last time you had something to eat?”
“I’m – it hasn’t been too long,” Logan says, lying rather poorly, “Really, I’m okay. Just tired.”
“Alright. C’mere, you,” Virgil says assertively, grabbing Logan by the wrist and bringing him to the couch.
“Virgil, darling, this isn’t necessary. Besides, I’ve got a bit of research to do for…” Logan trails off, seeing the look of agitation on his boyfriend’s face.
“Nope. Absolutely not. You’re not bringing work home, and, you’re not skipping another meal. God, I haven’t even been paying attention lately; you’ve just been so busy lately. When was the last time you ate?”
“I…”
“Babe. This is serious. You need to tell me when you need something. And right now, you need to eat,” Virgil said, slipping off his hoodie and pulling at the collar of his T-shirt. “You look like you’re starving, L.”
“Virgil. We don’t need to do this right now. I just came home, I’m perfectly content with simply spending the evening with you. I promise I’ll be fine. There’s no need to fuss.”
“There’s a perfectly good reason to fuss,” Virgil huffs out, “You’re being so fucking stubborn for no reason. Besides, there’s... well, there’s kind of something I want to talk to you about.” Logan raises a quizzical eyebrow.
“Is anything the matter?” Logan asks, trying, and failing, to mask the quickly formed concern.
“Nothing’s wrong,” Virgil swears, “Now, c’mon, the quicker you sink your fangs in, the quicker I can satiate your curiosity.”
Logan sighs, defeated, but tired and very hungry.
“Fine.”
He gets up from the couch, going into the bathroom, and coming out with a first aid kit. Virgil’s always insisted that it’s okay and that he doesn’t need to go to all the trouble. For the most part, the bites stop bleeding almost immediately after he’s done feeding, but Logan has none of it.
“You’re the one who’s taking care of me. Please. Let me take care of you, too.”
It’s little rituals like this, pressing a bandage and a kiss to the wound when he’s finished that keeps Logan from feeling like a monster. That’s what he confessed to Virgil one night, years ago. That he felt like a monster sometimes.
Virgil’s always been clear to dispute this. Logan’s never killed, anyone. He’s never been unnecessarily cruel to anyone, and he’s always, always been so good to Virgil. His need to feed is not that of a monster, and Virgil’s assured him as much anytime he felt otherwise.
But that can’t stop doubt from creeping in, and Virgil understands that. So he lets Logan do things at his pace for the most part, and he lets him take care of him to his heart’s content (Virgil truly isn’t complaining about that. It’s nice, how eager Logan is to care for him).
“Are you alright? Are you comfortable?” Logan asks, just as he always does.
“Yeah, I’m all good,” Virgil assures. Logan nods, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. He’s starving, Virgil knows he is. “Go on, baby. It’s okay.”
Logan nods, first kissing Virgil vehemently.
“I love you,” Logan whispers reverently against Virgil’s lips, his fangs brushing just so.
“I love you too.”
Logan pulls away, his eyes meeting Virgil’s, and ah, there it is. His boyfriend’s eyes turn from their usual-blue to a striking crimson, the change in color happening in a manner of seconds, like watching a drop of blood cloud a glass of water. It isn’t hypnotism, per se. Virgil isn’t under Logan’s ever-command, but his gaze certainly sends a sense of calm washing over him. Logan cups Virgil’s face for a moment, still looking at him intensely and lovingly all at once before he presses his lips to Virgil’s neck and sinks his fangs in.
The initial pinprick of pain has always made Virgil shudder a little, even now, but he’s far more prepared for it than he had been in the past. Quickly, though, the pain subsides to something stranger, more far-off. His back presses into the couch as Logan has a hand on either side of his neck, sucking and lapping the blood, Virgil lingering in the bliss.
When he’s finished, Logan removes his fangs, mouth only slightly bloodied.
“Thank you,” he says, whipping his lip and quickly reaching for the first aid kit on the coffee table.
“You’re welcome, Lo,” Virgil says, still a little lost in the feeling. He smiles faintly as a bandage is pressed to his neck. “Feeling better?”
“Much,” Logan says, his exhaustion seeming to have faded significantly. “I dare say you were right, I needed that more than I was aware. How about you? Are you alright, my love?” Virgil can’t help but smile dopily at that.
“I’m fine. Great. I love it when you call me that, you know that?” Logan chuckles, his eyes back to their normal blue, and fangs having receded.
“I do. Now, let me go get you something to eat.”
“You don’t have to,” Virgil says, only slightly light-headed, “I already had dinner.” Logan’s already on his feet.
“Now, I’ll have none of that,” he tuts, sounding as insistent as Virgil had moments prior, “You just gave blood – so to speak. It’s important to rehydrate and eat something rich in sugar to replenish your red blood cells.” Logan’s rummaging in the cupboard, looking for a snack.
It’s now or never, Virgil thinks to himself suddenly, realizing that if he doesn’t say something right this minute, he’s going to chicken out for the night and have to work himself up again later.
“Hey L?”
“Yes?”
“I…” God, this is harder than it should be! “I want…”
"What would you like? We have crackers, cookies –.”
“I want you to turn to me!” Virgil shudders at the sound of something clattering the floor in the kitchen. He turns around on the sofa, seeing the look of terror in his lover’s eyes.
“Dear Lord, did I take too much blood? Virgil, do you feel faint?” Logan asks, suddenly hovering over him, his eyes scanning over him.
“What? No – no, I’m fine. My head’s super clear. I’m being serious: I want you to turn me.”
“You… you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course I do!” Virgil says, zealousness bubbling with each word. He looks into Logan’s eyes, searching desperately for something, anything, that will further his argument. “Logan. Babe. I love you so, so much. I’m crazy about you, and I can’t see myself stopping anytime soon.” Logan swallows, the sound scared and tight.
“I- I love you, too. Virgil you know I love you, but –.”
“But what? You mean absolutely everything to me, and – and I can’t lose you. I want to keep being with you. Don’t you want to keep being with me?”
Virgil hates how desperate he sounds. A fear suddenly creeps into his mind, one he hadn’t yet considered: what if Logan doesn’t want this. He loves him now, but will he ten years from now? Twenty? A hundred? What if he hasn’t imagined a life with Virgil at all? What if he’s nothing more than a momentary distraction? What if –
A cold hand settles on top of his, their fingers lacing together.
“Yes,” says Logan, his voice tight and quiet, “I want to keep being with you. I adore being with you, dear. And I intend to do so for as long as I’m able.”
“But how long is that?” Virgil asks, the fear holding him in a death-grip, “How long until you need to leave this town and change your name?”
“I –.”
“I want to come with you when you go.”
“Virgil, you know how I feel about this subject.”
“No, I fucking don’t!” Virgil says, voice gaining in volume, hand still intertwined with Logan’s, grip tightening, “Because you never want to talk about it! Any time I’ve brought it up in the past you’ve just brushed it aside. Well, guess what? I’m not letting you do that right now. Why can’t you talk about it? What’re you so scared of?” Logan lets out a sigh, long and filled with frustration.
“Virgil… do you realize what you’re asking of me?” Virgil huffs out a breath, nodding.
“Yeah, I do.”
“Do you really? Do you understand how much you’d be asking me to take from you? You’re asking me to take your life away.”
“I want you, Logan. That’s all I want.”
“You’d need to go with me when I left town. We’d both need to change our identities often, to change occupations. We couldn’t let people grow suspicious.”
“I know.”
“And we’d both need to,” Logan squeezes his eyes shut, cringing at the word, “…hunt. Be it human or animal, I could not rely on you anymore, and you could not rely on me.”
“I know that too. I’ve already thought this all through, Logan. I mean it.”
“You could live such a different life, Virgil. There are so many possibilities that would disappear the moment I… if you were to regret this, there would be no going back. No reversing it.”
“What’ve you been planning for the future then, Logan. Were you just going to disappear one day?”
“I – well. This was your apartment before it was ours. I was considering –.”
“Leaving me,” Virgil finishes, and goddamn it, there are tears in his eyes.
“Sparing you,” Logan counters, “Of a very long existence with me.”
“Don’t you get it, Lo?” Virgil asks, letting go of Logan’s hand, his eyes landing on the floor. “I’ve thought through all of these variables a hundred times. You’re the best part of my life. Most of your friends are my friends too. And, newsflash, they’re vampires, too. I know that it’s a huge decision, a-and that it’s scary. I know it’s a lot. B-but I’ve never been as sure of something as I am about this. Never.”
Logan frowns, his thumb swiping over Virgil’s falling tears.
“You’re… you’re really serious about this, aren’t you?” It hurts Virgil, how unworthy of this Logan clearly feels. He'll have a lifetime of proving him otherwise, and a long one at that.
“Of course I am,” Virgil sniffles. “I’ve been thinking about it forever I just – I didn’t know how to say it.”
“The thought of having to leave you has haunted me so much these last few years,” Logan admits after a moment of tense quiet, “I didn’t know how I was going to bring myself to do it. And, as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t ask you to do this. I couldn’t do that to you.”
“Well, you don’t have to,” Virgil says firmly, hope flickering in his chest, “Because I’m asking you.”
“And you’re sure this is what you want?” Logan takes a shuddery breath, “You’re… you’re sure I’m what you want?”
“More than anything,” Virgil promises, grabbing hold of both of Logan’s hands.
“Okay,” Logan says after a long, agonizing moment. “I’ll give you a few days, to get anything in order that you feel you need to. And it’ll be just a little more time to back out if you so choose to.” Virgil nods quickly.
“I won’t need it, but okay. But, Logan, baby, do you really mean it?”
“If this is what you’re comfortable with, and it’s what you want then… yes. Yes, I want this too.”
Logan suddenly finds himself with a lapful of Virgil, a pair of lips enthusiastically pressed to his.
“I love you, Logan. I love you so fucking much.”
“I love you, too, darling,” Logan says, a weight he wasn’t even aware of suddenly lifted from his shoulders.
The couple basks in the feeling, their shared enthusiasm and fulfilled desires, thinking of a long future together. Logan’s still scared and can’t be sure when or if those fears will ever entirely subside. But he didn’t need to ask this of Virgil; Virgil asked him. They know they can be together, and tonight, that’s more than enough.
