Bang Bang

Vampire || 188 || Peur De Rien

[violetxblair-blog]

Seriously? || Damien & Violet

[damien-hunt]

violetxblair:

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[violetxblair-blog]

With the underwear discarded, joining the rest of their clothes on the floor, Damien had truly sealed his victory. But Violet’s mind was far from that as his hands ran over her naked body, enticing the softest of sounds from her throat. She moved her hips against his arousal shamelessly as her legs went around his waist one more, the lack of material on her part, deliciously satisfying. There were many things Violet felt towards Damien Hunt, and far too many were conflicting and confusing that she opted not to acknowledge them. But one so in particular was attraction. May it be emotionally or physically, she found it difficult to keep her distance when he was near, and for that reason, he had to be taken in doses, because everyone knows too much of a good thing is bad for you. And too much of a bad thing is even worse.

Her eyes were closed, body pressed to his, flesh to flesh, as their mouths hungrily drank each other in. As Damien broke the kiss, Violet sighed in disappointment, hungry for more. She hadn’t realized how drunk she was until he was easing her off the counter, and she landed unsteadily on her feet. Vaguely, she thought of the dangers of being this impaired in the company of the older vampire, but again, the allure of what was to come made it hard for her to really care.

His voice reached her ear in a whisper, and it sent goosebumps over her skin. She took pause at “my love” and for a moment, she was unsure of what to do. He hadn’t called her that since-- she cut herself off as she turned around, facing the bar and closed her eyes. It didn’t matter when the last time he had referred to her as his love was. She was determined to live in the moment, and to savor every second of his, every touch, and every kiss, because in the morning, she would want to kill him once again.

[violetxblair-blog]

faerodrick:

He laughs at that, shaking his head. “I know, it’s weird, but they do… they have ways that they communicate. It’s sort of hard to explain really, but they do have ways of talking to each other. And me.” She might have been joking, but he’s not. He likes being near plants, and they like being near him, and he doesn’t know how to explain how he feels about them and he’s not really going to try because it’d just confuse both of them and make this a really difficult conversation to follow.

So instead, he steamrollers right over to the next few things she says. His eyes open a little more, and he grins. “Oh yeah? Which ten movies have you seen?” He chuckles, not expecting her to really know or remember all of them but interested in what kinds of movies she’s seen and is into. “And, if not movies, then what do you generally do with your time? And, uh, I’ve been alive two thousand years, give or take.”

Violet was had never really heard of trees communicating with people save for mythology and fairytales, and was intrigued by the thought. She had always, since she was a young girl, been interested in the abilities of Imps and witches as any child would. Magic and the thin veil between what was possible and what wasn’t was something she couldn’t resist, and as she looked across the counter at the man she had just met, she already had an itching to ask a million questions. She didn’t though, and instead she propped her head on her hand and tried to recall all the movies she had seen.

“Well let’s see. I own four: Napoleon Dynamite, Silence of the Lambs, Un Chien Andalou, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Bonnie and Clyde circa 1967, ummm Finding Nemo... There’s a couple more that I can’t recall. Oh! Pulp Fiction.” She though for a moment more, but couldn’t recall any others, it had been a long time. Two thousand years. It was almost an incomprehensible amount of time. “You think really good for your age, wow. You’ll have to share your secrets,” Violet teased as she turned to grab the bottle of whiskey from the shelf behind her. She technically wasn’t supposed to drink on the job, but hey, it didn’t hurt every now and then. She poured a little bit in glass she had just cleaned before answering his question, “I like to read,” she answered, “Old stuff mostly. Shakespeare. Edgar Poe. Nabokov. Kafka. Charles Dickens... The likes.”

[nadiaofrivers]

          ❝ What? Are you- … That referee just made the wrong call  ❞

[violetxblair-blog]

“What even is this?”

[violetxblair-blog]

julius-ramirez:

   “You strike me as nosy. What’s it to you, aye?”

“Nosy. Curious. Same thing, really. Perhaps you interest me. Something about your,” Violet makes a little gesture with her hands, “Presence. So, what made your heart shrink?”

[violetxblair-blog]

Seriously? || Damien & Violet

[violetxblair-blog]

damien-hunt:

She said nothing but her next course of action did seal his victory; Violet emptied the shot glass beside her before pressing her lips to his. The game was over and Damien kissed her back hungrily, the need to taste her urgent and wanting. 

The past centuries did nothing to erase the taste she left in his mouth as brazen hands rediscovered her body, every mound and curve of her. One hand reached down and tugged at the fabric she still wore and with a grin the vampire reminded her that she ought to discard it.

Despite their time apart, Damien’s lips felt familiar, the taste of tequila and lime on his tongue as intoxicating as the alcohol itself. For the time being, Violet was perfectly satisfied in losing as her hand went to the back of his neck, pulling his closer as she leaned back slightly on the counter. 

Violet lifted her hips from the bar so he could pull the remaining piece of clothing from her body. Resting her hands on his hips he pulled his body against hers, desperate for more contact. It was always conflicting feelings and hungry touches when it came to Damien, and it was no different in the empty bar as she moved to press wet kisses down his neck, before pausing to leave a bruise that would disappear soon after. 

[violetxblair-blog]

bloodxspice:

“Just window shopping and buying then,” Clarice with a nod as she looked around.  Sure enough, the came to a sushi place not far from the store.  It didn’t look busy inside either which was a bonus.  The red head opened the door and went in, immediately grabbing two chaired by the sushi belt.

“Yeah, I don’t do it much, so I thought, ‘why not?’” The sushi place wasn’t far from the little shop they had just come from, and Violet felt a little bit of excitement as they walked in and sat at the bar. Sure, they didn’t need the sushi, but real food still tasted as good as it had when she needed it to survive. “So, Clary, how long have you been in Red Creek,” Violet asked as she grabbed a little plate of spicy tuna rolls from the belt.

[violetxblair-blog]

grasta-agus-gra:

Nesta let herself fall when she was pushed away, careful not to let her knees get scratched up. She held a shaking hand to her mouth, trying to find words, trying to find “Please–please–” she gasped, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I–I was walkin’ home from me work, mindin’ me own business, an’ these men – they–” She faltered, grit her teeth together. “They had teeth, an’ claws an’– please, ye must believe me! I swear on me life, please help!”

Violet watched as the woman fall to the ground, still confused as to what was happening. Violet’s adrenaline was rushing now, and every sense was heightened, every sound being picked up with her ears, the smell of the woman now on the ground almost overwhelming as she tried to decipher the redhead’s jumbled words. “Teeth and claws? Well that’s about a fifth of the population in this town,” Violet said a bit sarcastically as she looked back in the direction the woman had come from. There was no sign of men with teeth and claws, and the vampire felt slightly wary of the desperate woman. Despite her reservations, she held a hand out to help the woman up, “You have to be pretty fast to outrun a pair of werewolves.”

[violetxblair-blog]

julius-ramirez:

  “Doesn’t matter what you call me, darling. I don’t fucking care.”

“You strike me as more of the Grinch, so there we go. May I ask what disgusts you so much about Christmas? Born with a heart three sizes too small?”

[irisdane-blog]

    “So this is what Red Creek looks like around this time of year? Such a disgusting waste of time if you ask me.”

[violetxblair-blog]

“Welcome to Christmas time at Red Creek Mr. Scrooge. Or do you prefer Mr. Grinch?”

[grasta-agus-gra]

Nesta ran down the sidewalk. gasping and looking over her shoulder, straight for the only other person on the streets at this time of night. “Please – please, help me!” she begged, latching onto them as soon as she was close enough. “Please, ye’ve got t’ help me. They’re lookin’ fer me. They chased me out of the office down here, and I don’t know what they want, please. Please, ye have t’ help.”

[violetxblair-blog]

Violet was walking home from work, her earphones in and coat wrapped tight around her body. The woman had covered a shift for one of the other bartenders and it had resulted in a long day at work. She was looking forward to collapsing on her bed, and maybe reading or simply falling asleep when suddenly she felt a body collide with her own, and not only that-- but grasping on. She instantly became defensive, spinning around and pushing the other person away roughly as her ear phones fell from their placement. All she caught was the tail end of the woman’s words and something about help. “What in heavens name? What is going on?”

[violetxblair-blog]

faerodrick:

He respects that she has a job to do, and spends a little time drinking more while she’s away, watching the lights reflecting on the surface of the bar. When he returns, he gives her a little smile. 

“Yeah, lots of traveling. I like being over there, it’s somehow… I don’t know. I miss the trees there sometimes. I used to know a lot of really good trees.” Sometimes he forgets that he’s essentially a tricky forest spirit at his core and that saying stuff like that to humans comes across as sort of weird. Eh, it’s not actually that big a deal. Then he grins at her next statement, and the question. 

“I’ve spent a lifetime trying to figure that out. Mostly, it’s thrill rides, drugs, and true crime movies.” He laughs. “I’ve seen Goodfellas maybe a few too many times.”

Violet didn’t mention that she hadn’t returned to Great Britain since the day she had left about a hundred and fifty years ago. If she did, he may ask why, and well, she would prefer to avoid that question. So instead, she cocked her head slightly her eyebrows raising in curiosity, “You knew a lot of really good trees,” she repeated, a subtle look of both confusion and amusement written on her face, “Do they tell good jokes and throw mean forest parties over there?” It was a jest, and she smiled at him, genuinely enjoying their conversation. 

“Don’t forget sex and misconduct,” she added, “True crime, huh? I can’t say I’ve seen that movie. But that isn’t saying much, I’ve seen all of like, ten movies.” Thinking back to what he had said earlier, Violet wondered how old he actually was. She could tell he was neither vampire nor werewolf, but beyond that he could be a one of the many other species. Silently she guessed an imp. He had the mischievous aspect about him, as though he were always up to no good. It was intriguing really. “And how long, may I ask, is a lifetime for you, Rodrick,” she inquired, her curiosity piqued.

[tetranquila]

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[violetxblair-blog]

Seriously? || Damien & Violet

[violetxblair-blog]

damien-hunt:

Was it really such a bad thing? To end the game and give in to lust? But Violet knew him too well to not be able to resist games, especially when he was a lace underwear away from victory. Damien grabbed her by the waist and pulled her towards him, pushing their near naked bodies close.

“You’re pushing your luck,” he warned, though the corners of his mouth curved in a smirk. He leaned in as though he would kiss her but stopped just before their lips could touch, opting instead to lift her legs so she would straddle him. “Never have I ever had any formal education,” he said the words plainly without any hint of bitterness or shame as his dark eyes focused on her blue ones before moving to her mouth that hovered dangerously close. “And I’m certain that you have.”

There was a moment of silence between the two, and Violet could tell a part of him wanted to give in, to allow the growing tension to snap and end their little game. But she also new like her, he wouldn’t be able to do it. Violet could could help the small yelp that escaped her throat as Damien pulled her forward with decisiveness, the sudden contact sending a small shockwave through her body. 

“When aren’t I,” she countered, her voice low. She could nearly feel his lips against hers in their proximity; Violet used all her willpower not to close the little space that separated them as her her legs wrapped around his waist. She kept her eyes trained on his as he spoke the last statement-- the game winning statement. Damien had won. There was no way for her to dispute it Violet found she had little interest in doing so anyway. Leaning back, she grabbed the last shot, tilted her head back and drained it. She tossed the glass back onto the bar, the glass clinking against the wood as she finally pressed her lips to his. 

[violetxblair-blog]

gentle-hobbes:

Still the right direction. Still nothing to say. Hobbes was sure she knew what she was doing, “Um…T-thank you, Um…T-thanks. Y-you, too.” He rarely used people’s names. Hobbes felt as though it was…intimate. It rose him to a level he didn’t want to be at. Didn’t feel like he should be at. Even still, he never forgot a name, and never forgot a face – not one he spent more than a few minutes talking to, anyway.

He obviously wasn’t the talkative type, and she wasn’t quite sure if he preferred silence or for her to keep the conversation going. A few moments of silence passed between them as they continued down the same street. A few more blocks, she thought, then they’d turn... Right? Yes. Right. Maybe. “So, Hobbes, are you a local?”

[violetxblair-blog]

mcralitywavers:

            “Use that imagination of yours, love. Let’s see how colorful it can be.”

“It get’s quite colorful, and I can think of a few things. But I really think I’ll take it off your hands and find it’s mother and father.”

[violetxblair-blog]

devlinxclery:

“The possibility of rejection excites your mind,” he mused. “Now that is a new one.” The corners of his lips twitched momentarily at her words, though the rest of his figure did not move to betray him. “Are you calling me prey? That’s very bold of you.” Several heartbeats passed between them before he spoke again, leaning forward in his seat as his palm grasped the newly placed drink. “There’s an implication in there that I want our game to end and I don’t think you quite understand how to play just yet. Throwing in the towel would lose all appeal.”

Violet caught the ephemeral twitch of his lips, her eyes dropping to his mouth quickly before returning to his own. She couldn’t quite read him, and it made she could have sworn it made her heart race a little faster even though it had long been dormant in her chest. His words caused her to smile, her eyes raking their way down his body as if sizing him up, or checking him out before returning she turned back towards the bar. His words made her reconsider, but she found a unique thrill to not knowing which one of them was the prey. “I’m a bold woman,” she said simply, “Its something I’ve come to earn.” The bartender returned with her drink as he spoke, and she sipped at it before glancing over at him, “Then teach me,” she responded her words laced with veiled prurience.

[violetxblair-blog]

devlinxclery:

“What’s your favorite bit about a challenge?” His question was composed, not indicating interest nor boredom as long fingers traced the rim of his empty glass. The bartender returned with the drink in question, though Devlin made no move to touch it. “Depends on my mood and the person I’m seducing, but if I reveal all of my secrets now what good would that do me?”

A small smile touched Violet’s lips at his question, and she took a short moment to think about her answer before speaking. “I suppose it’s the possibility of failure. There’s something exciting about not knowing how it’s going to end,” She said, her eyes drawn to the movement of his finger before sliding back to his, “It’s no fun when the prey rolls over and dies on it’s own.”

“Mm,” she hummed, her gaze lingering on Devlin as the bartender brought the drink and set it down. Before the man could leave though, she ordered a Jameson and Ginger and turned back to Devlin. “It may do you all the good you could hope for.”