#vampire!simon

[wraithillustrates]

CW: BLOOD

Part 2 of the vamp!simon au

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·Primordial·໒꒱ ────── · ·

A primeval, original, or fundamental thing; a beginning or origin; a first principle.

Anthology that follows TF-141 and their new lives as vampires.

+18mdni ⋘ Series Loaded ⋙ +18mdni

➺ Drip ➺ (J Price pov)

➺ Grotesque ➺ (K Garrick pov)

➺ 40days and 40nights ➺ (S Riley pov)

➺ Paradise ➺ (J Price pov) coming soon

➺ Artistic Eyes ➺ (J MacTavish pov) coming soon

➺ Birthday ➺ ( from the diary of Aayana) coming soon

Mood board

C.W: Primordial contains graphic depictions of violence and gore. Contains characters that have been a part of chattel slavery in the Antebellum period of the US. There is the use of slurs (none of it is glorified). This is a Southern Gothic genre piece. If you would like to know more about this genre, start here. If you would like something easy to dip into with this genre, I suggest starting with Flannery O'Connor 'A Good man is hard to find.' You can read it here for free.

[em0goose]

Vampire!Simon "Ghost" Riley who gets really unsettled by the insatiable thirst and hunger.

Simon who drank from the members of the cartel when he killed and rampaged after his escape from the coffin. But the hunger didn't stop, it just kept clawing at him.

He doesn't want to drink from the people he trusts, the very few people. He'll hurt them, he'll watch the light fade from their eyes when he takes too much. He always takes too much.

The idea of harming himself doesn't exactly come to him. Not eating shouldn't hurt, right? He's not.. alive. He thinks the blurring vision, shaking and incoherent thoughts are normal. How's he supposed to know? It's been a constant since he woke up and pulled himself out of the ground.

[dcartcorner]

it only took 24 hours but the internet is finally back and all i have is werewolf peter and vampire simon

[skibasyndrome]

💜 wilmon;

Unable to control himself, Simon brings Wille's thumb to his mouth and slowly tastes the blood.

cw: vampirism (as seen here, here and here), blood

I cheated a little by adding some sentences before the sentence, I hope you don't mind 💜

Simon already knows it's a terrible idea before he even reaches for Wille's hand. He knows he shouldn't be doing this, even internally tells himself as much, when he takes hold of Wille's palm, while his eyes are never leaving the small but angry crimson slash on the pad of Wille's finger. He shouldn't have let his friend take the sharpest knife, he shouldn't have made him laugh while cutting carrots, he shouldn't even have invited him over in the first place. Because now it's too late, he thinks, while the sudden wave of thirst rises up in his throat and dries out his mouth. It's too late. "I don't think the cut is that deep, it's okay," Wille says, his words barely reaching Simon's ears, drowned out by everything inside of him screaming to have Wille and have him now, screaming for him differently than Simon is used to, so much worse now. His last shred of misguided hope, his naive wish to get out of this, is shattered when Wille - and why won't he just... - doesn't pull away his hand. Lets it rest there, in Simon's grip. Unable to control himself, Simon brings Wille's thumb to his mouth and slowly tastes the blood. Coppery, salty, just a hint sweeter than Simon has been imagining it. He runs his tongue over the cut again, then again, gets another taste, lets out a deep breath he didn't realize he'd been holding in. Wille tastes good, so fucking good. So good that the most selfish part of Simon wonders why he didn't give in earlier, why he denied himself this. So good that he regrets that he can't ever see him again after this. Simon startles when he feels Wille's hand on his waist suddenly, brazes himself for the shove, the push, the punch, whatever is coming. He's not prepared for the way Wille grabs him, though. Wille pulls Simon into him, loops one arm around his waist, and keeps the other there, right there, where Simon is still holding it, where Simon has just licked the blood off his finger. Out of all the ways this could've gone, Simon did not see that coming. Did not expect the way Wille's fingertips are digging into his back through his thin t-shirt, or the way Wille's quickened breath is fanning over his face when he raises his eyes to finally look at him. "I-," he wants to say something, explain this somehow, but Wille, eyes dark and big and looking at Simon like he's never quite seen him before, interrupts him. "Can I please kiss you?"

Thank you, thank you, thank you for the lovely prompt you sent me! I'm really sorry that it took me so long to get back to it! I hope you enjoyed it though :) 💜💜💜

Send me "Wilmon" + a sentence and I'll write you 5(+) more!

[sillyunicorn]

silly nonsense inspired by someone's pointy teefs and something @simonsapelsin said

...

“Simon… have those always been like that?”

You’re embarrassed to ask. It’s a stupid question. 

“Hmm?” he says, not looking up from his textbook. 

He’s lying on his stomach next to you on his bed while you do homework together. Or at least try to. You keep getting distracted. It’s not your fault your best friend is so beautiful. Right now, he’s chewing on his pencil, and the way it’s pulling on his bottom lip, you can just see his bottom canines, or whatever those are called. They look…sharper than normal. 

“Your teeth,” you press, craning your head and leaning in to get a closer look. 

“What?”

“Have they always been so pointy?”

He freezes. The pencil hangs out of his mouth. His teeth look sharper than ever. Like they could cut you. A thought suddenly pops in your head, and stops you in your tracks. 

“Simon….do you have…” You swallow. “Fangs?”

Your heart is suddenly pounding, but you’re not sure if it’s from fear, or something else.

He’s quiet for too long. You worry you crossed a line, said something so weird and creepy that he’ll never want to talk to you again, even though he promised to help you with your Spanish homework.

He sits up, and there’s worry written all over his face. It makes a crease between his perfect eyebrows and turns his mouth down at the corners.

“I’m sorry,” you say, so quiet that only a vampire could hear. Or someone sitting next to you, his face inches from yours. Like Simon’s suddenly is.

“No,” he says, his big brown eyes bigger than ever. “Don’t be. It’s just… you can’t tell anyone.”

You feel your jaw drop in shock. 

“What?” you splutter. “You mean…?”

He brings a hand to his mouth, runs a finger over his bottom teeth, and winces. 

“You absolutely cannot tell anyone. Please,” he says, and how could you ever betray him?

“Of course not,” you breathe. 

There’s a beat, a moment of silence where you just look at each other, and then your curiosity gets the better of you.

“Are they… are they on the top, too?”

He sighs a tiny sigh, maybe of relief, or maybe just weariness (it must be terribly lonely to be a vampire and have no one know), and drops his head. When he looks back up at you, he lifts the corner of his lip with one finger. You almost gasp, but hold yourself back at the last minute. You don’t want him to feel any worse than he already does. 

In his row of perfect pearly whites, right next to his first molar, sits the pointiest eye tooth you’ve ever seen. You don’t know how you never noticed it before. You’ve stared at him, and at his mouth, a great deal, to be honest.

“Wow,” you finally say. “They’re really there.”

He drops his hand, and gives you a small, tentative smile. “Are you frightened?”

“No!” you say quickly, maybe too quickly. “No,” you say again, calmer this time. “It’s just… are you a…?”

“Am I a vampire?”

You can feel your heart pounding in your ears. You realize he must be able to hear it, too. You know you should be scared, terrified, even. But it’s Simon. He wouldn’t hurt you. 

“If I am…” He tilts his head. “I don’t want you to freak out, okay?”

You’re pretty sure he wouldn’t hurt you.

You nod, unable to speak.

He leans in, and you close your eyes. You clench your hands in the blanket. This is really happening, you tell yourself. It still doesn’t feel real.

“Don’t be scared,” he murmurs in your ear. And you’re not. You’re not! You’re brave. You’re so brave. It will be okay.

And then you feel his breath on your neck. You brace yourself for the pinch, for the razor sharp fangs to bite into the delicate, vulnerable skin. 

Your best friend is a vampire, and he’s going to bite you, and maybe it’s all you’ve ever dreamed of, but you will be okay. 

He places a hand on the other side of your neck. His lips graze the skin under your ear. You hear him draw in a breath –

And then he blows a fucking raspberry on your neck. 

You yelp and jump back as he falls sideways onto the bed next to you, laughing. 

“Your face!” he crows. “You should have seen your face!”

Your hand flies to your neck, but there’s nothing there except a damp spot from his spit. No wound, no puncture marks.

You open your mouth as he howls in laughter, but you can’t seem to find any words.

Simon is clutching his stomach now, and tears are streaming down his face. 

“You thought I was a vampire? Because of my teeth?” 

More embarrassed than you have ever been in your entire life, you snatch up books from the bed, not caring if they’re yours or his, and shove them into your backpack. You jump off the bed and start for the door.

“Hey, hey,” he says, wiping his eyes. “Come back, come back. I’m sorry.”

You stop. You turn around. He reaches a hand out, and because you are weak, so weak, you take it. You let him pull you back onto the bed. You sit on the edge of it, backpack still over one shoulder.

His face is calmer now, though still red from laughing. His big brown eyes find yours.

“You really thought I was a vampire?” he asks gently.

You hang your head. “I… I didn’t want to believe it…” Or maybe you did. Maybe that was the whole problem. 

“I shouldn’t have teased you,” he says, contrite. “I’m sorry. I’m really not a vampire,” he adds, as if that wasn’t obvious by now.

“I know.”

He leans off the bed so he can see in the mirror hanging over his bedside table. He bares his teeth at his reflection, turning his head back and forth.

“Are they really that pointy?”

“They really are,” you insist. You can’t help it. They are.

“I guess you’re right,” he sighs. “They’re not like, vampire pointy, though,” he says reasonably.

He turns back to you, and you cross your arms.

“Are you done teasing me?”

“Completely finished,” he says, holding up his hands in surrender.

You drop your backpack on the floor.

“Fine. Then will you help me with my Spanish homework?”

“Vatever you need,” he says in a deep, exaggerated accent, and you roll your eyes. You’re never going to hear the end of this.

[willesredlights]

A want to write a vampire Simon au so bad actually

[wraithillustrates]

Based on the strawpage request below!

Tysm anon for your sweet message <3