VAMPYRE.

↳ FINE, II'LL WRITE IT MYSELF.

[vamqyr3]

↳ NOSFERATU.

↳ NAVIGATION.

RULES.

REQUESTS.

MASTERLIST.

CASE FILE.

[vamqyr3]

I HAVE BEEN READING ALL OF YOUR XANTHUS SMUT AND I NEED MORE LIKE MAKE THAT MAN MORE YANDERE AND FREAKY FREAK okay so like Love (the listener) tries to escape from him, but fail he’s a vampire after all so used to it chasing down his preys. After he dragged Love to his mansion, yk the smut comes on.

Love this man dearly!!!!!!! I miss episode 1-3 Xanthus!!!! Yandere Xanthus come back to us!!!!!!

Serious tw (that’s how yk its good)

— Xanthus making you jealous on purpose. - Just to feel something, numb after so many years. Your chest tightening, hands rubbery, brows sore. - Walking in on him drinking some blonde dry, red gums rolling over his teeth to gift you a smile. Deliberate. - He didn’t care to clean, he didn’t care about hiding. He wanted to hear just how short your breaths could get, trying tirelessly to push back the sweet, sticky air. - His knees are messy rolling over to look up at you in all his messy guilt. - To beg and smile at the same time, swallowing laughs as you’re both deadlocked between pulls. - He doesn’t care because he knows, truly, at the end of the day you’re still his. - There’s hot swipes at your stomach and thighs, warm and red fuzzy hand prints that cling to you. You can feel the stuff soak into your nice shirt as his nose presses to your body. - He’s greedy and inconsiderate. You pull away and he falls into you, then smiles at your firm face and struggling sides. - “Baby, baby, listen. Come on, listen to me.” - Because, of course, your feelings are games for him. A collection of logical risks and consequences.

-The more you feel, the better that rush is for him. The deeper the love, the fighting, the fear, comes the first emotions he’s felt in years. - Maybe the bond wasn’t all bad, protecting something means control over something, someone. Someone sweet, loving, to cling to your life and beg for your attention and affection. - “Give me a kiss”

-“Look at me, love, baby, it’s just some bitch from the bar, come on.” - All demands of course. -All he can think about is peeling those strands away from the trunk of your neck and letting his mind go blank feeling how hot his mouth gets busy sucking. He’s greedy and inconsiderate. - He loves being cold, trickling his hands all over you just to feel the after shocks as you try to jump away from him. Only to end up pushing right back up to him. - I think he’s silently cruel, smoothing everything over with his cool-headed stoicism and thorough logic. Cold to others and controlling towards you. - And you were made for him, no one is as desperate for it as you. These smiles and lengths of love were only for you to see. - That’s why he’d never care to clean, to purposely flaunt the fact he could drink from another and face no repercussions. The fact he could overwhelm someone so easy and discard them in the next movement. - That’s why he’s smiling, forcing to you see because he knows you’re cruel too, not moved by the rose handprints all over you, but by the thought that he had the authority to go behind your back, drink from another, and dare to dream that you’d be alright with it. And he did, he did have the authority, that power. - He enjoys dominating aspects of your life, especially outside of just sex. Wear this, don’t talk to them, kiss me, buy it, eat this. With that clean, cold, stoic, collective charm. - He loves that hot red angry face, dirtying you because he knows there’s no knock back. - And he probably won’t even touch you tonight, just to make this all worse. Forcing you to see, holding you still, swallowing his kisses, making you disgusting, rubbing you over the swell of his bulge and then sending you to bed. - “I’m sorry, I’ll clean it up, I promise.” - Just to see all of that tension glaze over into confliction. - Yes, you want more, yes, it’s wrong and you’ll spend that whole night pent up and fighting with that in your fuzzy head right next to his still body. - That’s why he loves you, because you’re like him, you’re made for him. And when you’re finally all good and properly fucked up about it all, reaching your hand to finish the job he never did, that’s when he’ll finally act. - Just to comfort you for feeling nasty about enjoying being cruel, like him.

..hi …. Sorry annon ✌︎('ω')✌︎ way too lazy to write that whole request hope this makes up for it..bleehhhhh

[vamqyr3]

I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD. WELCOME BACK??? 😭😭😭

THANK YOU!! there was a tumor inside of my ear it was a whole terrible mess but I’m back and I plan to get back to writing : 3

[vamqyr3]

Pussy drunk Elijah Mikaelson.

[vamqyr3]

Bamon angst but it’s just the fact that Bonnie truly created all of TVD. Saved it, helped it, built it from the ground up. Everyone asked of her and took from here with nothing to give in return. Doing all those things for Damon with nothing in return but simple apologies and him going to other women.

Damon has loved Bonnie in every timeline every universe. But there’s always another delusion or obsession for him to bet his self worth on. Devoting his mind to toxic cycles that don’t scare him. Because like Stefan said he would rather choose the role of villain. He’s used to it, convinced love is war. Everyone get out- the fact Damon never bought flowers for Elena, I’m spite of everything he’s done. Yet for Bonnie it’s a luscious bouquet. And still she’s left with no one and nothing. Get out.

[fieldsofwax]

I understand your angst, they were cute, but as an ace aro person who is underrepresented and tired of amoronormativity, I find it extremely important to see examples of men and women loving each other deeply in a way that is platonic, and does not include sex or romance. To kill the lie that men can’t simply love a woman without having to be able to fuck her. Your claim that bonnie is “left with no one” is acearo phobia and people don’t even realize it- according to your standards, I have “had no one” for the past five years and am much happier this way than to force myself to “have someone” and give in to pressure from comments like this like I used to. Bonnie has friends who are family. That is more than enough. Yes the bamon dodging likely had racism involved, and it’s cool people can acknowledge that and they really think they’re woke- but than totally keep under the bus any acknowledgement of spreading ideology that hurts ace and aro people.

[vamqyr3]

I’m aroace but okay !

[vamqyr3]

Bamon angst but it’s just the fact that Bonnie truly created all of TVD. Saved it, helped it, built it from the ground up. Everyone asked of her and took from here with nothing to give in return. Doing all those things for Damon with nothing in return but simple apologies and him going to other women.

Damon has loved Bonnie in every timeline every universe. But there’s always another delusion or obsession for him to bet his self worth on. Devoting his mind to toxic cycles that don’t scare him. Because like Stefan said he would rather choose the role of villain. He’s used to it, convinced love is war. Everyone get out- the fact Damon never bought flowers for Elena, I’m spite of everything he’s done. Yet for Bonnie it’s a luscious bouquet. And still she’s left with no one and nothing. Get out.

[vamqyr3]

↳ SIMON “GHOST” RILEY // 2013. ᴥ

EP 1 .

CW// Yelling, idk it’s angst what do you want, aftermath of Simon dying and leaving you with a kid.

You pour two parts pasta, one part cheese, lined to the backing on the box. Shifting his little feet to lay along the leg wide holes cut through his high chair. “Luke give it a minute, honey.” He’s a thoughtless toddler, without a response. Bits of cereal to fling around on sticky floors, honeyed watermelon and carrot paste. He had been restless since 7 months. Peopled have stopped Inviting you to things, piled next to your water bill and oily napkin bunch. The large of you knew he didn’t deserve the butt end of it. Your nature is casted into stone. From loved, thought of and care for to distant and diseased. Hugged from time to time, yet no one’s trying to lay with crazy.

His father was a dead beat, not his fault. Not yours. His, the fathers, Simons, his fault. It was hardly and appropriate breakfast, now matted to the front of his cotton shark print top.

He’s zipped into the back car seat. You hope to see the day he’s attached to the booster, then left without one. Sad to see it from the front cushions, driving, give or take a new decade.

His school isn’t far it’s the drive that’s hard. One hand to his aid one to the front. Remembering which way to turn, if he was still breathing, did you buckle the left strap? How fast are you going?

The plastic of his fist sized shoes squeak under his foot. Slides past the front gate, squishy playground and over to where you could not see. You’re off today unfortunately. Meant to report to base and check up with whoever from 141 was left with the shortest stick. It was patronizing, the jut of the gas pedal and the stop for ID. You were no child meant for coddling, you just so happen to have a child, one of Simon’s.

”Doing any better?” The walk here made you sick, the air had a smell of dust and rubbing alcohol. Price’s hat made you sick, the pins on his desk slipped down your throat and jabbed you stomach. “How’s Luke?”

“Fine,”

“You should let me n’ Gaz take him out, yeah?”

“Oh then what after that Price?” “Listen,”

“Take my son out for a drink? Show him a few tricks in your big ass truck? Price? I want you to show my child how to load a gun, captain. You know what why don’t you just carry him off to the front lines while you’re at it?” He just sort of stands there, takes in a breath like he’s going to speak and readjusts.

“It’s my day off you know I don’t have to be here,”

“Yes you do,”

“On whose orders?” “Mine,”

“Right, Right the same ones that got Simon killed, it’s all clicking sorry,”

There’s a sort of prickle to those words, it tickles his face and makes wrinkles. “You knew damn well what you were gettin into,”

“Oh my god, how many times are you going to send for me just for us to have this same argument? I hate it, I hate it here. Theres that same goddamn picture that’s been up since our first date. And the fucking Gym still has the same equipment. How many times am I going to look at that stupid ass wall of yours and remember the time Simon put a hole in it? Like I can’t, I look at my sons skin and I worry just how long it takes till all of our grief leaves scars on it.”

Price finally lets go of that breath. “Look, the boys are worried,”

You were too, shifting to anchor yourself. No part of this was supposed to leave you gasping at night. To have your son set In a deep driven drudge of speechless resentment. To have him shielded yet still affected. Up asking why he couldn’t show off his dads sporting gear like Hunter could. Luke has no father, he never did. And that wasn’t your fault or his.

“I have to pick my son up,”

FIN. // EP 2. // MASTERLIST.

@bootboob @yippeerrrs @ghostsfavhoe

@the-faceless-bride @konigsblog @russadler

ect… I couldnt find all of them.. send in an ask for tag list

[vamqyr3]

If I don’t wake up to the most disgusting, rancid, mind blowing, ground shaking, social reject kind of Miguel O’Hara asks tomorrow the feds will find me face down. Thank you.

[vamqyr3]

Do you have any more Xanthus content? Please I am starved 😓

I hated the last episode posted! He was fully out of character, yelling and digging into listeners past? No. So elaborating on that: Xanthus deadnaming you. Traveling to a whole new place, isolating yourself into work for a man who’s too anxious to fully love you. Controlled only by fear. Then hearing the name you escaped past from his mouth would be the final blow. Not that I believe that listeners had that silly backstory given, but that there are listeners like me who use different names. Him canonically digging into your past to find your legal name, using it on you once he finally found it, as if he hadn't told you his. Absolutely spiraling. You had given everything up for that man. Also, I know that (stupid) Saku makes up the lore as it is continued, yet still Xanthus lying to you. Him telling you in the early episodes that he had never turned anyone, yet finding out in the later ones he had. That he had made the bond and wants to break it. That he had never wanted the relationship but dragged you into a millennium long war. Your life is on the line for a boy so scared of his mistakes he lied to evade them. Brushing off your feelings, you’re not sleeping alone, I didn’t want this. The bond was a mistake, your creation was a mistake, I made a mistake.

(≧∀≦) I’m so very very deluded !!

Obituary tags . @claibornc @aestheticpearl

[vamqyr3]

I saw your xanthus post and was wondering if you'd talk a little bit about the new character (zaros) that saku gave us your work is just *chefs kiss*

So early into the series I cannot truly gauge his personality, but I’m very interested in his person and plot. So yes, I would love to talk! I do have some ideas and it entirely revolves around him and listener locked within their shared room. Revenge sex? Him forcing you to silence? Public teasing? Staring at you while you sleep? Faces getting way too close? Palm to palm, alcohol and whatnot.

So yes please do send in more asks (@￣ρ￣@)

[vamqyr3]

Ghost leaving you with a kid, he said this would be his last mission- it wasn’t- now your stuck with a boy who knows no hell, no pain, no father. You wear his dog tags, starved of energy and solace. Working 3 jobs to afford daycare, medical bills and a house. Loosing an appetite, focusing fully on your son. Yet still only able to give him straight looks and monotone words. Waking up at 3 to sooth the baby to sleep, never doing the same yourself. The 141 is there to watch, serve pitted looks and belittling gestures. You didn’t have time you had a son. A responsibility slapped into your lap, you’d adapt, never resent. They didn’t understand they pitied. Simons back one day, standing in the living room mask and all. Your sons crying pointing to what he thinks is a bad guy there to hurt him and running to his room. You leave hours later now with a sleeping 2 year old and he’s just sitting there. You tell him how you hate him, how you hate him for putting your child through it all. For turning you into a bad mom. For having your child suffer as you did. You’d hate him.

[vamqyr3]

FINE. I am MAKING IT A SERIES.

send in an ask if you would like to be tagged.

[vamqyr3]

“I just don’t understand why you need to put yourself in these positions, lieutenant.” He lulls his head to the side, groaning a groggy response, your thighs ring the round corners of him. “And I mean for what? Do you just need some attention? Hmm?” He looks to you in response, drunkenness disgustingly palpable. “Yeah? Just needed some attention? So you go off stalking some bitch?” Certain was the idea of crazed misconceptions and muddying looks. He knew not what he knew best. “You know I’m not mad, just disappointed,”

There was no will, no necessity for a response. You laugh, silently at first. Turning your face up to the ceiling and smiling. The tip of your head felt heavy, you sheen and peel the fuzz of your skin back. Whatever was in his system was in yours. A buzzing edge to your itchy irritation.

Brushes were melting, melodic. Skin on skin felt like the call of wave on rock, etching it’s push. The feeling was comparable to that of sleep deprivation, and by the look on his face if it wasn’t for your calls and taunt he would’ve done exactly that. Slept.

It was so calming, moving the way your body felt needed. Curling over his limp dick. Far too buzzed out to move from bliss. Drool and sweat, crossed eyes and tight muscle. To a certain extent one could gratifyingly argue that revenge was sweet. His skin in your mouth spat down sweetish. Ghosts hot damp mask, naked body and sticky fingers.

You could feel the hair of your skin pull with the air. The way your bones lived atop one another. His stuffy breaths and out of body blubbering. You didn’t promise a thing. You didn’t need to provide a thing. Definitely not his undoing.

It wasn’t sex that drove your hips around his, more spite. Pretty, petty, flashes of her beaten defeated self. Absolutely nothing to do with her up doing. Your weight squeezes out empty loads from his cock head. His abdomen twitchy with what energy licked through his muscle memory.

The two of you just haven’t gone public because of the higher ups down view, certainly. Definitely.

pt. 1

[vamqyr3]

Ghost leaving you with a kid, he said this would be his last mission- it wasn’t- now your stuck with a boy who knows no hell, no pain, no father. You wear his dog tags, starved of energy and solace. Working 3 jobs to afford daycare, medical bills and a house. Loosing an appetite, focusing fully on your son. Yet still only able to give him straight looks and monotone words. Waking up at 3 to sooth the baby to sleep, never doing the same yourself. The 141 is there to watch, serve pitted looks and belittling gestures. You didn’t have time you had a son. A responsibility slapped into your lap, you’d adapt, never resent. They didn’t understand they pitied. Simons back one day, standing in the living room mask and all. Your sons crying pointing to what he thinks is a bad guy there to hurt him and running to his room. You leave hours later now with a sleeping 2 year old and he’s just sitting there. You tell him how you hate him, how you hate him for putting your child through it all. For turning you into a bad mom. For having your child suffer as you did. You’d hate him.

[vamqyr3]

DUDE YOUR XANTHUS WORKS??? *chefs kiss* JUST WOW, MAY I ASK FOR MORE??

Xanthus biting at your wobbling neck, spine curved and rounding backwards. Your falling out of grip, chin jutting away from his lips. Blood caked into your jaw, slathering his fat lips. His forearms hugging your lower back. As much as you would like to, he wont let you move. He’s greedy, a cold monster. You’d cry it hurt, he was too big, to fast, strong and sensitive. But he would go on about how good you felt, how soft you’d made him In his inhuman stamina. You were squeezing is fuzzy lump too well. Despite it all, he smiled. For someone crying so bad you sure as hell moved on him all on your own.

[vamqyr3]

I’m sad that the Gaz tag is dying too :(

I wanna give him the sloppiest most toe curling eye rolling top ever. I wanna ruin him so bad and I want him to ruin me too. Also I’m in genuine awe at how you portray him and the rest of the COD characters. You do it so stinking well. I eat up every word. Can’t wait to see more :)

Anyways have a wonderful day 🖤

↳ KYLE “GAZ” GARRICK // RUINER. ✿

CW// NO PLOT, FACE LICKING, MAKEUP SMEARING, GAZ IS BUZZED, SPIT, FACE FUCKING, CHOCKING, ECT.

NOTES// Renfields back dont get your nickers in a twist.

He could hold on a little tighter, tilt his hips a little higher, move a little deeper. He won’t give up, damned the noise inside his head. He bubbles over your tongue and cheek, breathing musky humid mist. He could bury himself within you, watch the bulges rippling from your neck. He could take his flat palm and stroke himself through your throat. Wade you up and down.

Your face is a playground for dripping fluid. Beauty running from your eyes and flowing like water. He makes your eyes heavy and fucked. Sightly blurry, slanted and cross eyed. Taking a finger to hang your jaw open, glazing it’s sticky tips to your cheekbone. He slaps, laughs. Buzzed and high, euphoric and fuck-drunk.

The fingers take your heavy face, pushing it to opposing directions. He’s putting on a little show. Mind far too soft to shove his wet dick back in you. Pinky reds, sticky undertones. Your mouth falls flat, flashing grinning teeth. He spits, knocking past your thick lips and missing a bit. It won’t matter, his collided fingers rub the stringy glaze over the rounds and corners of your face. With a few more wet smacks he’s blissed out.

Back again, he’s ringing you around his soft dick. Twitch and crying. Gaz was terribly receptive. Vibrating with sensitive swallows. Gasping hopes of your future furthered pleasure. He couldn’t pull away, he’s far past fucked up and spent. Gulps milking him farther than dry.

The longer he pushes your head to take him the more it commands him to sob, sulk. Commands him to twitch and ebb back at your skull. Makes him whiney, mixed up and cross visioned. He’s fidgety and breathless.

You’d always lived for the weight of him resting on you. To watch him rise with anticipation. Nonetheless, you still put on a show of your own.

You gag and tense, still remaining wide. He slaps the heavy part on the flat of your tongue. Rolling back into your throat right after. He would stuff your nose into the move of his crotch. Shadow your face and eye with his hands and move with pleasure. But right now he’s mindlessly smoothing the stuff around him.

His sloppy fingers fuzz up his phone screen, making the lights soon to be caked in brine. There’s a sputtering flash, and a quick swipe. You could smile, you are smiling. Stuffed and looking up sharp. You prepare for another, thickened head thrashes back into your ribboned pivot. The photo is jerky, he caught you off guard. A hand palms your neck, he’s strokes himself slotted into you. Then burrows deeper, repeatedly. You’re helpless to the camera.

The boys are going to love that one.

[vamqyr3]

↳ LOKI ODINSON. // IS A FREAK. ･̑

CW// PUBLIC, KNIFE PLAY, FEM! LOKI, MASC! LOKI, POSSESSION, ECT.

NOTES// I am so unbelievably horned up for Loki and the tag isn’t sating this appetite.

Loki is a deviant.

Fucking you in his dungeon cell, making you kiss and lick the clear wall. Whispering on about his superior stature. How the things, insects, around you couldn’t hold a candle to him. Couldn’t fuck like him, nudge, bargain and kill like he.

Moving you to hump up against his thick piercing daggers. Mellow golds and tinted blues gripping along your thighs. A sharp chill threatens to split the meat in two.

Licking away your tears. Laughing hot breath and cold bites.

The size difference between his fat dick and your round tummy. Flatting you to your back, letting it fall between your legs till your abdomen is shadowed. Poking the tip, pinching it. Pools of pre rounding corners over your stomach. He smudges it back up, decided it’d look better in rather than out.

He loves watching you sputtering trying to swallow him down. Riding his hot dick till you’re perfectly humiliated.

Cracking your leg up, rubbing his soaking lips over your crotch. Grinding in rhyme and rhythm, his sticky cunt pleases nothing but him.

Caking you in salty, tacky cum. Stains in your wet clothes and old rags.

He stands like a monument along your back. Shadowing your every tiny move. Fucks you into the counters end just cause he delighted the way you sized up against him.

He’d make you use your own toys on him. Smart talk you about it. Push vibrating pinks into his needy clutch.

Fucking you with half a mind, witless, careless. Magic left to please what needy commands he failed to find the reverence to sate.

Loki would get off above you, refusing to finish in you. Slap the glutinous requests from your thick lips. Ignoring the ever constant twitch of your knees, buzz of your eyes.

He’d even make you do it for him, dip and bob, pull and twist. Sticky removed fingers is all that’s left.

Grinding your round crotch over his knee, tired of your mouthy words.

Looking over you as you wiggle and writhe for him. Amusement growing in toe with your nudging embarrassment.

moans falls over cries punches a wall.

[vamqyr3]

Ok what you posted about xanthus WAS AMAZING OMG WIWJH i was wondering if you could explore that possessive side of him? And i wanted to ask, do you think he'd let his partner take the lead once in a while? Only if you want thoo!!!

i cant write a full fic of this cause I’m actually so busy I might spontaneously combust. But I want to talk about him so bad!!! Many thoughts.

Him possessive drools. Fucking your stuff just to scent it, marking up your throat, cutting the neck line with the angle of his nail so it’s impossible to disguise. Drilling into you on and on about how he’ll ruin you for any other man. How he’d end lives for you, ravage the whole populous. Still fear through your round eyes just to feel his effect, let it sit heavy on his abdomen, know his power. Maybe you’d combine him a moment to let you attend him on late time hunts. Make you reel a big boy to the back alley, watch him laugh at you, with you. Smile, rock and nod. He’ll come up behind you, the brush of a finger to make his figure well known. Leave the man slumped down, snapped and strained. No matter what you could pull, what could protect you, he could beat it. Help me bloodlust and Xanthus HELP. Drinking you stupid, fucking you still, you wake up neck itchy and stomach round with salty cum.

Him letting you take control isn’t alien. You’d have to initiate it, he likes control. Laughing as you lamely try to fuck yourself into him, a meek testimonial statement to your stature. It’ll make him smile, he’d deny you of his help. You’d cry and slobber, never reaching a tight enough throb. Or maybe him fucking himself into you absolutely stupid. Drooling and seeing double, he couldn’t stop if he wanted to. He’s pleading for you to stop as if he’d not been the one to ride a high as steep as his. Hypersensitivity due to vampiric senses. Stroking him past a bubbly orgasm, tummy twitching, head angry in your fingers. Him rutting into you, lovely teeth whispering ticklish touches along the vein in your neck. You’d just told him not to bite, despite the brain deafening euphoria it would add to his mixed bag. He’s whispering, pleading, still no.