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apoptoses · 10 months

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hello it’s #VCsmuttysunday and today I’ve got a real special one for you-

In TVA Armand mentioned that Lord Harlech taught him some ‘real gutter tramp English’. But what is 15th century gutter tramp English and how would one use it in a sentence? I’m gonna show you with five great phrases Armand could degrade and humiliate his lovers with.

[disclaimer: slut is used with love here! this is for kink and not actual shaming ♥]

Salted Bitch <- this is telling someone they’re so slutty and horny they’re like a dog in heat

“Daniel, did you have any idea you arch your back like a salted bitch whenever you feel my teeth?”

Wittol <- like a cuck, but worse! A cuck doesn’t know their lover is having an affair, but a wittol sinks so low as to help their lover hook up with others!

“Daniel, do you find that man handsome? Are you so desperate you would have me be your wittol and help you take him home?”

Hairless Quean <- someone who is such a slut they had to shave themselves to get rid of any crabs they picked up on their horny adventures, a totally humiliating type of personal grooming in the 15th century when bush was in and a brazilian marked you as a trollop

“You’ll allow me to shave you, won’t you, Daniel? So that when I find you a partner tonight they’ll know you for the hairless quean you are?”

Prattling Trull <- a slut who never shuts up

“Lestat, you really are such a prattling trull. Whatever will the neighbors think, hearing you go on like that?”

Slovenly Jade <- a double insult, in that a ‘jade’ was a horse for hire should someone need to ride to the next town over. So a slovenly jade implies that the receiver is a messy slut who is happy to be sold to be fucked.

“Lick up your mess, Daniel, I won’t stand for you being some slovenly jade.”

So go forth, indulge your blorbo’s humiliation fetish and have Armand sling some 15th century slang next time they’re in bed 😌

#vcsmuttysunday #smutty sunday #armand #vc meta #armand/daniel #armand/lestat

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rainbowcarousels · 9 months

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I wrote this for something else, but I think it works for smutty sunday. It's been a busy week okay?

The bloody kiss feels less like an act of passion and more one of burning curiosity.

Asking a question without a single word having to leave your lips is one of many advantages of the Dark Gift, but there were no words echoing in Nicolas’ mind either. Just that strange sensation of not being alone in his own mind. Good luck, beseeching little demon, the last person who stepped into his inner recesses could barely meet his eyes before he fled in horror with meaningless apologies. The very image of him seems to light up the inside of Nicki’s mind.

Oh, is that who you were looking for? The memories were jumbled: running to real theatres in blinding sunlight, curled up for contact more than warmth in their flat, back in the inn holding his interlaced fingers above him because he’s always had wandering hands, no, older than that, the way Lestat wept first at the witches place when they went there for some balm for his malaise, when he wept there as a child, when he choked back sobs as he was driven into the ground hard.

Yes, that one, so vivid in memory the way his skin felt with little bumps from the cool night air and the contrast of the heat inside of him.. The sound he’d made when Nicki had taken his hair and pushed his face so deeply into the dirt that he’d coughed from lack of air. The way Nicolas had almost apologised after, but Lestat had only, stained with spit, semen and dirt and looking at him like he was some marvellous thing that Nicolas had almost emptied his stomach in horror of it.

Let Armand have the memory if he wants it. What use did Nicki have for it anymore?

#vcsmuttysunday #armand/nicki #armand/lestat #nicki/lestat #vc #nicolas de lenfent #the vampire armand #lestat de lioncourt

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desertfangs · 10 months

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I'm not even going to make a graphic for this lol this is what I did today based on this post for #VCSmuttySunday. (Yes, I question my own life choices.)

ANYHOW I HOPE YOU LIKE IT. Please let me know if you do because I basically spent my whole day on this.

The Hand That Beckons Armand/Daniel - 3771 words - EXPLICIT

The club was crowded and the music was so loud it reverberated in Daniel’s bones. Strobe lights bounced around the room and smoke from cigarettes—and at least one joint—filled the air. He danced, letting the rhythm move through him, the alcohol from his two whiskey and cokes making him limbs loose.

Instinctually, he searched the crowd for the familiar pale face, though of course this time he knew Armand was here because they’d come here together. So intoxicating to think of how quickly things had changed! To have gone from running from the vampire to living within him in almost no time at all.

The song ended and he spotted Armand at the bar. He was leaning against it casually, looking relaxed. His auburn hair curled down around the collar of his paisley shirt, his blue denim pants tight around his waist, flaring out only at the ankles. He’d fed before he’d come to their flat this evening and his skin had a slightly pinkish hue that helped him look more alive. More human.

He caught Daniel’s eye and gestured for him to come over. Heat shot through him at being beckoned by the pale hand. He crossed the dance floor and walked up to Armand.

“You wanted me?” Daniel asked.

Armand smiled at him approvingly and another flush of heat traveled down to his groin. “I only wanted to see if you’d obey.”

Daniel flushed, tilting his head, trying to figure out if it was a joke or not. Four years of interactions, of conversations and strange encounters, and Daniel was still learning his quirks and sense of humor.

“You’re such an asshole,” he finally said. Armand frowned and Daniel regretted the words. He’d meant them teasingly but Armand looked bothered. Hurt, maybe. He swallowed uneasily. “Of course I’ll come if you call me over, you should know that.”

Armand handed him a drink, another whiskey and coke with the ice melted, one he’d been pretending to nurse for the better part of an hour. Even watery, the drink helped settle Daniel’s uneasiness as he took a swig. He could feel the heat of the alcohol bloom in his stomach. The world was already a little dull and hazy and it helped him relax.

He moved beside Armand, leaning against the bar, their shoulders touching. Daniel was dressed similarly to Armand, in a collared shirt with brown pants in the same cut and style. He’d shaved and run a quick comb through his blond hair before Armand had arrived at their flat, wanting to look nice for him. Such a ridiculous thing and yet he’d been doing it for years, trying to appear put together for when he’d see Armand. Now it was a nightly affair and what a glorious affair it was!

Daniel looked at his pillowy lips, pushed out slightly as Armand scanned the crowd, and imagined those lips on his body. Suddenly the club felt oppressive and he wanted to go back to their flat where they could tear off each other’s clothes.

Read on AO3!

#listen sometimes you just gotta write the thing #armand/daniel #armand #daniel molloy #not happy with the title either but i'm too tired now to be clever #so it is what it is #vcsmuttysunday #vc fanfic #my fic #vc #vampire chronicles #devil's minion era #devil's minion

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hekateinhell · 9 months

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Last week for #VCSmuttySunday we did Lestat's Kinks and we've already done Armand's Kinks as well, so today let's do Louis's! Shout out to my Louis Expert @covenofthearticulate for helping me come up with at least half of these ♥️

*once again, I'm trying not to make the choice too obvious and therefore pyrophilia (fire and arson kink) and books will not be included!

#OKAY LMAO I'M HERE I HAD TO TOUCH GRASS TODAY BUT LET'S GO #VOTE WITH YOUR HEARTS #hekate asks and you answer #vc #the vampire chronicles #louis de pointe du lac #vcsmuttysunday

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hekateinhell · 9 months

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I had an Armand's Kinks poll a while back, so today for #VCSmuttySunday let's do Lestat's Kinks!

*Obviously 'mommy kink' and 'degradation' are much too easy and if I put them here everyone's going to pick one of those — so let's assume we've already factored them in and we're just adding to the list!

#yes i have a canon basis for all of these lmao and there's more i could include but tumblr only gives me 10 options rip #lestat de lioncourt #vc #the vampire chronicles #hekate asks and you answer #vcsmuttysunday

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apoptoses · 11 months

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It began as most things did with Armand: with a nudge at Daniel’s boundaries, like a cat nosing at a door to see if it’s truly shut or if it can be pushed wide open.

“So how does the whole-“ Daniel began, pausing as the bartender set a drink before him, “second hand sensation thing work?”

The drink was a shocking shade of pink, with sugar glazing the rim and a strawberry floating atop the frozen slush. Daniel plucked the fruit from the glass and bit into it.

It was his- third? Fourth that evening? Frankly he’d lost count. He only remembered that Armand seemed determined to have him try every flavor of frozen margarita on the menu so that he could taste them through whatever magical vampire shit he did to connect to Daniel’s mind.

And besides, he had a sneaking suspicion Armand liked him this way. Just drunk enough to be warm and unabashedly curious about his abilities, letting slip any and every thought on his mind. There was so much about Armand that he didn’t know, even though Armand seemed to know almost everything about him. If Armand wouldn’t open up about his past then the least he could do was explain to Daniel his powers.

“Second hand sensation?” Armand asked.

“Yeah. When you hook up with my brain and taste things through me, or feel things or-whatever it is you’re after. How does it work?” Daniel repeated.

Above the bar hung a neon sign, all electric shades of blue and red; an advertisement for some brand of beer. There was enough tequila buzzing in Daniel’s veins that he openly stared at Armand as he considered the question, taking in the way the light hit his face.

Armand tipped his chin up thoughtfully, casting his eyes to the side as some secret and unknown thought turned over in his head. The red light washed over his lips, rendered them rosy just as the blue picked out the fine veins near his eyes. Daniel wondered if Armand could see himself through his eyes. If he knew he was the prettiest thing with a pulse in this bar, whether he had any idea he looked so dead and yet so very alive.

Armand frowned. Like a mortal he dragged his fingers through his auburn hair and pushed it back from his face. “What do you mean, how does it work? How do I do it?”

“No. Like- how it feels. Is it exactly the same as what a living person experiences?” Daniel asked, absently gesturing with the strawberry pinched between his thumb and forefinger. “When I bite into this strawberry do you taste it just like you were biting into it yourself?”

“It depends.”

“Depends on what?”

Armand said nothing. His lashes cast shadows on his cheeks as he blinked.

[AO3]

#look i know you guys trust me by now #but if you click and see the tags and get nervous #read my note at the start of the fic first #i swear there's nothing squick-worthy in here #it's all written around the actual acts you'll be fine #also consider this my smutty sunday contribution #vcsmuttysunday #armand/daniel #vampire chronicles #vc fic #armand #daniel molloy #devil's minion #apoptoses fic

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hekateinhell · 10 months

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#vcsmuttysunday: Armand & Daniel explore the Adult Entertainment Industry in the 1970s

I think it's more or less established fanon at this point that Daniel and Armand had a fun time experimenting with what the burgeoning sex industry had to offer in the late 1970s and early '80s (I place at least half of the blame on this comic). But sex shops really started taking of in Europe and North America in the '60s, '70s, and '80s! As far as I could find, London's first 'modern' sex shop opened in 1972 — five years before Armand and Daniel moved to London and lived as a couple in the city. Manhattan - where they later went - was infamous for having a strip of pornography theaters and all kinds of XXX entertainment spots in Times Square.

Here's some of the things they might've found in the sex shops back then, the ordinary and the not-so-ordinary:

(NSFW BELOW THE CUT)

Vibra Bed

It was a vibrating device that you attached to your bed and it turned the whole thing into… a vibrator. Armand absolutely bought one (or two or three) of these and probably made Daniel hump the vibrating mattress to completion while he watched. Their neighbors hated them.

Hitachi Magic Wand

Most of us have at least heard of this one that's still a best-seller today, but 1977 was when it really took off! I think Armand would've found it somewhat of a novelty to be able to bring Daniel to orgasm without using his hands or mouth directly. The vibrations alone would do it pretty fast, especially when placed along the perineum and the head.

Speaking of finishing fast...

Strain Loops

Cock rings in general became super popular during the sexual liberation phase of the '60s and '70s (people wanted to stay hard longer during anal sex), but I'm highlighting this type in particular because I hadn't come across it before and I just saw it mentioned in reference to vintage sex toys. Imagine Armand looping that around Daniel's dick and balls before he makes that boy hump that vibrating mattress a second time.

Novelty Handcuffs

This one I'm listing simply for my sake, because I think human Daniel (and vampire Daniel lbr) would get such a kick out of literally chaining a powerful vampire like Armand to his bedpost with the kitschiest bright red handcuffs!

And now - remember what I said about adult theaters in NYC earlier? Well, here's some of the movies they could've caught (and one of the places it would've been socially acceptable for Armand to whip out Daniel's dick out in public and do things to it, which he did).

Not saying Armand didn't buy Daniel leather shorts after seeing this and made him wear them everywhere for the next two weeks, not saying he didn't.

LIVE SEX ACTS.

Imagine Armand making Daniel get on that stage and put on a performance of his own! Maybe Armand joins him, maybe he doesn't (it would be Armand's first time in the spotlight since he seduced Louis in Paris - shame that was a performance of an entirely different nature... well, perhaps not to a vampire, huh?).

Grope-rooms are once again exactly what they sound like: you went there to grope other people and get groped. Bet The Dancer joined them more than once.

Anyway, hope y'all enjoy that tiny slice of sex history and that it inspires some smutty vampire thoughts of your own!

#i'm exhausted this took longer than i was anticipating but yk what i learned stuff #this will probably get a part two at some point tumblr limits pics rip #also scandalized to realize this is exactly where my parents were living in the 70s & 80s huh gentrification really got us in nyc #vc #the vampire chronicles #armand/daniel #the devil's minion #mildly meta #vcsmuttysunday

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hekateinhell · 10 months

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My actual contribution to #VCsmuttysunday that I managed to finish on actual Sunday:

PWP sapphic Devil's Minion for a @priapus-at-the-gate prompt (I'll share it over there as well tomorrow so anon can see their prompt fill if they don't follow me haha).

Armand is every naughty library or schoolteacher fantasy come to life. Sitting up in Daniel’s bed, wearing nothing but the pearl necklace and Daniel’s black-rimmed glasses.

She looks so sweet with that permissive smile. Her inky black lashes fluttering behind the lens, effortlessly seductive. “Don’t fret, my pretty girl. I always give you what you want, do I not?”

[READ ON AO3]

I've never written f/f smut before and I know we don't see it in VC fandom often, but I love testing the waters and pushing myself as a fic writer and I hope you'll enjoy it if you read it. Let me know! 💖

#vcsmuttysunday #armand/daniel #vc #vc fic #the vampire chronicles #devil's minion

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hekateinhell · 8 months

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Today's #VCSmuttySunday poll is Daniel's Kinks!

*Armand doesn't qualify as a kink of his own unfortunately (except in our hearts 🫶🏼). I also left out bloodplay and siderodromophilia/trains for obvious reasons!

#almost all of these are from my old daniel and a/d kink lists Imao iykyk #not sure if this will be the last character i do but if you wanna see another variety of smuttysunday polls on my blog-#feel free to send in your ideas!#hekate asks and you answer #vc #the vampire chronicles #daniel molloy #devil's minion #vcsmuttysunday

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rainbowcarousels · 10 months

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For anyone who has noticed me being very sparse this week, I have one of those demon colds which has laid me out for a week. As such, I don't have a lot for VC's smutty sunday but my upcoming entry to VC Kink week is in it's first draft so I'm happy to share just a small snippet from it.

Nicolas turned back to the audience where Armand sat alone, watching them silently.

“This obsession of yours. I know he’s a peculiarity, a damning dichotomy of a demon that weeps for humanity and rips them open, who cries for witches in one breath and proclaims himself as an exceptionally modern evil in the next, a lordly wolf sewn into the skin of a beautiful, rebellious creature of light so sloppily that you can see it exuded from every part and yet, he is only a man.” Nicolas blinked suddenly several times, before he shook off whatever had stopped him. “He snores, you know.”

The sudden statement, delivered without the running together words of the previous rant, startled Lestat so much that he laughed. For one moment, one brief moment, he thought he might see the boy he’d loved underneath the frenzied fledgling he’d become. “I don’t know if I still do, Nick.”

“The problem is,” Nicki still wasn’t looking at him but rather Armand. “The ever present problem is that he’s a handful. Not just physically though he does have an exceptional cock for someone practically born to be on their back with their legs spread. But that problem, the problem that you’ll never know what you have – the sweet, doomed boy who wailed at the piercing darkness if he so much as glimpsed it, the studious little devotee of a god he doesn’t believe in, the wolfkiller and terror of a lordling, the parisian prostituting himself before a stage of people so they can fuck in back alleys imagining his pretty hair, that voice, the way he speaks and forget their lives or the monster who does not understand how to be a monster at all. Do you really want all that? What is it you truly want, little dark angel?”

Armand was staring at them both, the question left unanswered. Or was it? Was he speaking to Nicolas in the only place Lestat couldn’t hear it?

There was no warning when suddenly Nicolas’ mouth was on his own and gods, but he tasted like blood and nothing else. Nothing familiar, nothing of him left to dig for against his feverish lips and then – suddenly more blood, too much blood for an after taste. It was his own! Nicki had bitten down hard enough that it had sent lightening through him, reawakening desire in his gut that he was sure was gone with the grief over the loss of familiarity but this – this – this was something that made his world dance for a brief few moments before Nicki shoved him off away.

It was only then that he noticed Armand had walked up to the stage, his eyes tracking both of their movements with the dangerous fixation of a predator. If you wanted to truly think of a dichotomy, the feral being beyond those pretty curls was where he would start.

Before Lestat could even get his bearings, Nicki had sat down on the stage floor and pulled Armand into a violent kiss. There was blood spilling down Armand’s lips and onto his chin, but Lestat realised it was neither Nicki’s nor Armand’s blood but his own from Nicolas’ mouth.

As soon as Nicki pulled his stained lips away, Armand used Nicki’s fingers to wipe the remaining blood from his own face into his mouth. It was gratuitous and beautiful, the way his eyes fluttered a few times. There was the softest noise, obscene and desirous and Lestat froze in place to watch the pleasure unfold. Lestat had known those fingers on every part of him, inside his mouth, inside his most private places and wringing him out and that was what it sounded like, that was the only thing comparable to the expression worn on the face of the beautiful boy before them.

My blood did that.

Then Armand surged forwards so fast that Lestat barely saw him move, licking the last of the blood from Nicki’s lips like he couldn’t care to lose even the slightest drop.

There was something happening here, something that was making a heat curl under Lestat’s skin that he had thought was lost to creatures such as them.

“So be it,” Nicolas said suddenly, jumping back on the stage with an agility that he hadn’t had in life. “Ladies and Gentleman, our production this fine evening has a very special guest, a beauty making his debauched debut on this auspicious evening. Let me present to you on this very stage – The Vampire Armand!”

#lestat/nicki/armand #vcsmuttysunday #not beta read because this week has been terrible #i think shotgunning counts as smut? i hope so

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rainbowcarousels · 10 months

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I don't have anything finished for VC smutty sunday, but I can give you the opening for the new Stars fic which I hope is smutty enough.

Lestat hesitated at the door. You might be surprised to hear that if you’re familiar with a creature such as he. Lestat de Lioncourt, the Prince of the vampiric realm, the immortal brat, Lelio everlasting – when was he known for hesitating at anything? Had he not plunged himself into every adventure, thrown his heart with wild abandon and let things fall as they may time and time again?

There was still that inside him, he could find it if he grasped hard enough but it had been less than a year since he’d made the decision to come out of the cold and this had been where he’d done that. It had a significance, even if it was a blinding sort of significance that made it so you couldn’t look at it too long before it became uncomfortable.

Trinity Gate.

This was where too much of his heart lived now and he was aching to be so far from it. It was easy to fall into the old trappings of needling Louis until he came around or at least got annoyed enough to come to him if only to give him a ticking off for his behaviour, but it wasn’t just about Louis anymore, was it? Something rose in him that was darkly possessive, but he hadn’t been able to parse who he was feeling possessive of. Either? Both?

Maybe it was just a sense of longing that had become feral, but a longing for what exactly was still unknown.

Maybe it shouldn’t have been a surprise then that the moment the door opened and revealed Armand, not in some unregulated splendour as he often was when people showed up at his homes – the ever gracious host having already figured out how to provide for them.

Not that, not tonight.

If anything, his clothing looked oversized and even accounting for modern fashion, if he had to guess. Lestat would bet that the t-shirt that stretched down to show his collarbone belonged to Daniel. It wasn’t distressed enough to belong to Louis, and Louis was not much one for things that didn’t cover his arms given his tendency to allow himself to get cold from the hunger rising.

It looked good on him – almost as if he could pass for one of the hordes of college students that plagued the city, not a care in the world. Just a barefoot Botticelli wandering around as if he had no other plans, no other things to take up his night and that Lestat was a surprise despite the fact he imagined that he’d been tracking him since he landed.

There were a thousand greetings on the tip of his tongue, but no words came.

Only desire enflamed him, a need all encompassing that pushed him forward. Their lips met not in a moment of sweet reunion but a fierce and possessive branding and within moments, Lestat had him pinned with one hand above their heads on one of those supposedly priceless paintings Armand always seemed to be able to find from the four corners of the earth. The temptation to rip into his throat there, to let him claw and destroy something priceless in the throes of their passions was tantalising – at least until Armand pushed back, slamming him into the wall without warning.

This was new.

This wasn’t how they played their game. Not when it truly was a game and not some real anger or frustration.

From the very beginning, all the way from his Cinderella reveal in Paris, Lestat had always been the partner leading them one way or another but something had shifted in Armand over his time in this place. Something more demanding had slipped into his skin, perhaps a ghost of a mortal boy brought out by having his other spectres around or simply a sign he was comfortable enough to push Lestat into own desires.

It was intoxicating, this new sense of to and froing; this dance macabre they had been indulging in with each other the last few months. Every vicious scratch of Armand’s nails, every desperate noise from his throat or Lestat’s own or heaving sigh of the drywall or splintering decor – it was embodiment of some desperate desire suddenly brought to the surface. It was a frantic desire for connection, for the mortal flesh was not enough and they had to seep into one another's souls through the blood. itself.

Armand’s teeth teased along his neck, the most irritating scratches without the plunge and if he didn’t hurry it up, Lestat would pull him back to him and bite through his lip instead. The little monster had to know what he was doing, but how he retained the ability to be calculating at a moment like this was utterly insulting. The desire to pin him against the wall like a butterfly in some collection was almost more than he could bear and Armand was choosing to make him wait?

There was a sudden, sharp pull against his hair and in the blinding moment of shock and enough pain to make it good, Lestat allowed himself to be pushed onto the broken mirror below. There were splinters going into his skin, but the sharpness of it barely registered as Armand looked down at him through those ridiculous lashes, warmth and passion lighting up his eyes like a fire in a hearth calling him home.

Lestat winked at him and watched as Armand rolled his eyes, enough of a distraction to get his belt thrown away as if it offended him by existing and get at Armand’s skin. There was still a lingering warmth, not enough but hiding just beneath the centre as Lestat ran his tongue down Armand’s stomach. Different divots and muscular structure to Louis’ and the idea of comparing their bodies in such close proximity was enough to drive Lestat to pull down Armand’s pants.

No underwear.

Was that on purpose? Had he left them off knowing he was coming or did he simply often not wear them? They’d been intimate with each other, drank from one another but the undressing, the nakedness of each other, they’d never really done such a thing and here they were in the ruins of the entrance, crossing the line as he crossed the threshold. One of these nights, he wanted to bathe him, to lay him out without a stitch and explore every inch of his skin.

It was in the edges of the soft hair of his sex that Lestat found his thirst could wait no longer. Sinking his teeth into the skin, the pull of his heart was so sweet – trying valiantly against him, but Lestat was not the prince for no reason, was he? He could have drained and destroyed him here and it was this very fact that spurred him on, them on as he was sure it was not merely his thought but their thought as they blended together, rutting like a couple of mortals and every bit a slave to their passions as they would be. It was not a single groan or movement but their moans, their bodies entwined in the most sacred act of death and love.

They were so close, on the cusp of something that terrified him, that terrified them but they were so near now that it would take a truly spectacular fool to run away from it now as the crescendo hit them with such a dizzying force that Lestat pulled Armand down beside him. The sudden loss of the blood was terrible, but Armand had bitten through his lip at some point and it was dripping down his lip so all Lestat had to do was reach out and lick it up as they lay there panting, a thin film of blood sweat on their heaving half dressed bodies while they were surrounded with glass and mirror shards stuck in their skin.

There was a pleasant buzzing to his skin, a sense of being sated and being utterly insatiable at the same time. Armand merely reached over and kissed him, licking the remains of his own blood from inside Lestat’s mouth like a kitten lapping before he lay back in his arms.

“Welcome back.”

Lestat met his eye and found something in Armand’s expression that was only playful, not a hint of antagonistic mockery but something more like a private joke between them.

Lestat found himself smiling back without thinking about it, especially when Louis walked in the door and simply stared at them with his mouth open like a particularly perplexed guppy. He must have been out with Armand’s fledgling because the next words he could hear were.

“You ripped my t-shirt!” Lestat double checked and yes, it seems the t-shirt had been a casualty of teeth and nails.

A small price to pay.

#i know it's still a little rusty #lestat is hard #(to write but the other way too)#but i'm working on it #vcsmuttysunday #vc #fic series: the only constant is change #fic: here beneath my lungs

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rainbowcarousels · 10 months

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I didn't have anything for Vc Smutty Sunday ready, but I whipped up a little of Daniel's blood kink on the fly. Please enjoy.

Sometimes Daniel thought back to Louis saying that he didn’t really miss the daylight, that there were too many other things, and he thought perhaps he might have been onto something.

Most days, Daniel didn’t awaken for long enough to get more than a glimpse of daylight before the sun set and he was whisked away for another night of exploration of whatever Armand was fixated on this week. It meant that on those strange days where he awoke before noon and struggled to get back to sleep, the day felt like it was an alien intruder. Something from a former life intruding on his current one, an ex he couldn’t get rid of and lingered on and on no matter how much he was determined to ignore them. Outside the window, the sounds of cabbies, kids shouting and the occasional clip clop of horses made even putting the blanket over his head useless.

In a moment of lost temper, Daniel kicked off the blankets and plodded off into the bathroom to take a leak.

Through sleep blurred eyes, the whole flat looked like a bomb had hit it and the bathroom was no exception. There was a crack on the sink and all too clearly, Daniel could remember lifting Armand up onto it so he could kiss him more easily. In his desperation to be closer, Daniel had pushed him hard into the basin to the point that he’d accidentally pushed the water taps on and soaked his pants with hot and cold water.

Daniel had been helpful in pulling them off with his teeth, leaving the faintest red on Armand’s skin that would be gone within the blink of an eye. Armand had watched him do it, helped manoeuvre himself to allow for it but only in the cold light of day did Daniel notice the crack on the basin where Armand had been gripping onto it.

Proof of existence, proof it had happened and Daniel wasn’t losing his mind and proof that Armand had been enjoying himself enough to lose just a little bit of control. The thrill of that squirmed it’s way through him like a slow electrocution, lighting up every nerve and making him feel as if there was sweat beginning to prickle at the memory.

The couch was an oversized, ornate piece paired with some coffee table Armand had seen in one of the thrift shops in Camden. Completely mismatched, yet looking perfect together – or at least they had. The table was now missing a leg, kicked somewhere in the heat of the passion that had overtaken them and the coffee mugs that once sat on it had leaked into the shaggy carpet. There were scratches down the fabric of the couch and he didn’t know who had made them, but the translucent stains were all him despite his attempts to wipe it away with his tongue the night before.

There was a blooming pink on carpet from where he’d cut himself on a shard, his hands either side of Armand’s shoulders as he tried to push inside of him in a way that showed him how he felt, the enormity of it, the fierce way their love clung to his insides. The memory of Armand pulling the bloody hand into his mouth and making a noise – and it had to be a conscious choice to do so because he’d definitely drank him down before without a single whimper – that sent him thrusting desperately for completion, for union, to complete the circle of Armand’s tongue digging ruthlessly into the cut on his hand hit him full force.

Arousal hit like a tsunami and it was fucking summer so Armand wouldn’t be up for half a day yet.

There was only one thing for it. Taking matters into his own hands, Daniel lay on the floor with his back against the soiled couch and stroked himself roughly. It wasn’t the same – his hands were too warm, he had nails that didn’t feel right and his fingers felt too big, but it was just going to have to do and he’d always had an active imagination. It helped that the memory of last night was vivid, Daniel leaning back to have something to hold onto and something stung. Not in a memory way – in a bringing him crashing to the present way.

There must have been another shard from a cuo or glass under the couch because there was an angry red line across his palm, leaking blood. Daniel pujlled at the skin, watching as it opened and shut as he pulled it and the blood dripped down onto him. Daniel stole a taste of it, but it didn’t taste right: too metallic, too human. Something Armand liked but reminded Daniel too much of the smell from science classes on dissection days. Maybe he should go and get stitches, but it looked shallow – there was blood but it wasn’t pumping out of him, just a slow drip that slipped down onto his stomach.

The idea hit him unexpectedly and he remembered Armand’s noise as he’d licked his hand the night before. Slipping his hand over his cock, it took a few times to see the smeared redness cover it and then, mixed with pre-come and sweat, Daniel started to thrust his hand over himself. In his mind, it wasn’t his hand but Armand’s mouth, enjoying the taste of the blood as Daniel thrust his cock into his mouth, making that noise again, the desperate one, the little whimper that had left Daniel feeling helpless and fuck, that was it, that was it, he came over his hand, his stomach and the carpet at the idea of it.

Fuck,Daniel thought, looking around at the mess he’d contributed too with the giddy clarity of the post orgasmic haze. We’ve really made a mess. At this point, might just be better to move.

After they ruined it more during a reenactment, anyway.

#vcsmuttysunday #this is so rough it literally took a couple of hours to write #tw: blood #daniel/armand #vc #devil's minion #daniel's trip for furniture shopping is clearly coming

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