#dining writes

A light-hearted Devil’s Minion ficlet (650 words)

For @animalceramics, happy Valentine’s Day! 🧡

“I recall the Seine being particularly-”

“Ow, shit,” Daniel says, flinching at the nasty flash of pain in his finger. 

“Are you alright, Daniel?” 

Louis’ voice has taken on a gentle quality that, as a mortal, really makes you feel patronised. 

“How’s the mackerel? Any good?”

Raglan makes an effort not to react other than glancing over to his right, knowing already who he’ll be getting face to face with. Who and what. 

The vampire Daniel Molloy. Wearing a smile on his face that’s almost smug enough to be a smirk. 

“Hello again,” he replies, more nonchalant than he feels in close vicinity to a supernatural apex predator. 

Molloy plops down on the stool next to him with a small, unnecessary groan—a habit he has yet to grow out of. The two of them seated together at a restaurant countertop again, it can’t be a coincidence.

“You got me, I waited to approach you until you went here. For a mysterious guy, you’re very predictable,” Molloy admits, flashing a grin.

“And you’re supposed to be documenting Lestat de Lioncourt’s tour in the next city over.”

“Yeah… I figured we could use a little break from each other. Guy’s exhausting to be around. But you probably know that better than I do.”

“So what brings you here? Did you come all this way looking for nicer company?”

“You could say that,” Molloy says, his gaze from behind tinted glasses intensifying as he elaborates. “You see, during our previous dinner dates I got a certain… vibe from you. And,” he pauses for a second while maintaining his unblinking stare, “now I have confirmation my instincts remain infallible.”

Having his mind probed isn’t particularly new or chilling to Raglan, but it does make him wonder what Molloy thinks he just discovered. Then Molloy licks his lips. Not so much in a hungry fledgling vampire way as in a highly suggestive way. 

Oh.

Raglan raises his eyebrows and doesn't reply. He refuses to be the first to break eye contact. 

Molloy lets out a low chuckle, then leans over and says, “Technically, this is our third date. You know what that means, right?” 

The way he says it leaves zero room for misinterpretation. This isn’t the first time a vampire has propositioned Raglan, nor the second. But it’s the first time a part of him is actually considering the possibility. He knows Molloy can sense his interest—rather annoying—as well as his unease. 

“And why would I risk being your dinner tonight?”

“C’mon man, don’t tell me you’re afraid of me now? Don’t think I haven’t noticed your surprise visits stopped after I got turned. Barely a message since then. All feels a bit discriminatory if you ask me.”

“It’s called common sense, you should try it sometime.”

Molloy actually laughs at that. “See, why would I eat you? You’re fun. It’d be a waste.”

“Feeling lonely already? You’re really speedrunning this whole vampire thing.”

“Don’t pretend like the whole vampire thing isn’t a turn-on for you. Not shaming you, by the way, I remember all too well how hot it used to get me.”

“Yes, well… Look where that got you,” Raglan says, his resolve not to sleep with Molloy gradually waning. Perhaps he’s been a little lonesome himself. They do get on quite well with each other, even now. Not quite friendly, not quite mutual respect, but there is something there.

“Would it make you feel better if we ask Agent Rashid to chaperone? He’d probably be secretly into it,” Molloy smiles, still eyeing him like he's a five-course meal. 

“That won’t be necessary.”

“But you’ll come with me to my hotel suite anyway?” 

Molloy sounds hopeful. And dangerously sincere.

Raglan sighs deeply. “Let me finish my mackerel first.”

“The fish here is that good huh?”

Danielle's breasts sagging due to age and nursing her two sons all those years ago. Armande worshipping those tits with her hands and mouth for ages while she humps Danielle's thigh, leaving a large bloody smear across the map of thread veins on Danielle's soft skin.

Danielle voraciously and sloppily eating Armande out, feeling herself becoming wetter than she has been in decades after repeatedly swallowing the metallic slickness that keeps coating her tongue.

Danielle finally pulling away from between Armande's still lightly twitching inner thighs and Armande being greeted by the sight of Danielle's mouth, chin, and even her nose stained a bright red. A view so breathtaking—if she had breath to take away—that she hauls Danielle up for a teeth-rattling kiss.

Armande's hand finding her way down to Danielle's slippery wet folds. While being mindful of her long claws, she knows very well that every light scrape will have Danielle moaning into her mouth just a little bit harder, until the combination of the soft finger pad on her swollen clit and the pointy nails digging into her flesh send her over the edge.

So here's a semi-smutty ficlet to get it out of my system

When the young-looking vampire trailing after Lestat had made eyes at him, Daniel didn't have to think hard on it. He was going through something he privately thought of as a second puberty, and whenever the opportunity of sex presented itself he was more than eager to take it.

Turns out the other vampire was also eager to take "it", back in Daniel's hotel room.

Felix's full cheeks gave him a charming boyish quality, and the glinting of his gold tooth kept drawing Daniel's eye more than the green-and-purple of his irises did. Combined with the chains around his neck and the metal spike in his earlobe, it kinda felt like fucking a 90s boyband member.

A boyband member with some issues or at the very least some sort of kink, because Felix kept moaning things in his ear like, "Oh fuck, yes daddy, please please, ohh." And, "Oh god please daddy, please yes, fuck me daddy."

Which wasn't so much an issue as it was really fucking hot, but it did made Daniel vaguely wonder how close in age they really were. You never knew with vampires, Felix might even be his senior.

Afterwards, when they were sated and lying next to each other, the other vampire curled up against him, the vague curiosity in the back of Daniel's mind was free to bloom into the habitual need to ask questions.

"So, Felix, how old were you when you were turned?"

"Thirty," Felix breathed against his shoulder. It felt tepid, like he hadn't quite fed enough to properly warm his body. Perhaps they could share a meal later on, the night was still young after all.

"Nice." He decided he wasn't jealous. Being eternally young was very much overhyped. "And how long ago was that?"

"Four years now, I think."

Daniel twisted sideways to look at him with a speed so jarring he wasn't quite sure it was a natural movement. "You're thirty-four?"

"Yeah. Does that bother you?"

Daniel gave it some thought, and came to the conclusion that he was more upset at the fact that he didn't really care than anything else. It was scary, the amount of fucks he gave these days, which had always been low but was now far below zero.

"Not as much as it should." Unable to help himself, he kept probing. "Wanna tell me what the hell you are getting out of this?"

"Well, you uh, you kinda have this fatherly vibe..." The coy look Felix gave him made Daniel's spent dick twitch. Maybe they could go another round before catching a bite to eat. So to speak. Heh.

"Ah. Glad to be of service, I guess," he sighed, like it was such a hardship to fuck someone who hadn't been alive yet when his first divorce had been finalized. The thought was so outrageous it made him chuckle a little.

Felix flashed an aureate smile back at him and snuggled up against his side. Daniel wrapped an arm around him. He was on a roll now. His pillow talk sometimes became an impromptu interview, but his bedpartners were usually flattered by his profound interest in them.

"Did Lestat turn you?"

"Nah. I don't know who did, don't know their name. They just did it and left. Lestat found me and took me in."

"It's a shitty thing, being turned like that. My maker's a real piece of shit too." He stroked the smooth expanse of Felix's back. Felix's eyes slipped close, the hint of a smile lingering on his lips. It was a sweet sight.

Words: 394

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Daniel x Armand

Summary: Just a little post-Dubai ficlet in which Daniel is still human.

Daniel sags back against the pillow feeling like a wrung-out, limp dishrag. Inside his heaving chest his heart beats wildly enough for it to be slightly disconcerting. 

“Fuck… Is this how I die?” he manages to breathe out, staring up at the depiction of fluffy clouds and blue sky on his bedroom ceiling. Small, sluggish rivulets of blood run from a frankly excessive amount of bite marks on his body.

Two on his right arm—his wrist and inner elbow, to be specific. A third had reopened the old scars on the right side of his neck, that one had definitely felt the most possessive. There are also two canine-sized holes in the sagging muscles of his left pec. But the majority of the marks are located on his inner thighs, the last of which in such close proximity to his junk that it had gotten him off. 

Armand scoots up to settle beside him, caressing his shoulder and upper arm with a slightly-too-cool hand in soothing motions, up and down, up and down. Though the words he speaks are less assuasive. 

“So melodramatic.” 

Daniel blinks a few times in order to clear the black spots from his vision, then tilts his head to look at him. Armand's normally wide open eyes are lidded and his jaw is slack with satisfaction, revealing the very tips of his bloodied fangs. It makes Daniel less self-conscious about coming untouched and a lot sooner than he wanted, like some sort of vampire-sex novice.

“You turned me into a fucking colander.”

Armand, as per usual, is lightning-quick to justify himself.

“I merely took one or two small sips each time, no more than that. I'm well aware you are in bigger need of that medicamented blood than I am, beloved.”

“Oh aren't you the pinnacle of chivalry.”

Armand huffs a fond laugh, his fangs visibly retracting. He leans in to kiss Daniel on the lips, one kiss quickly turning into several.

A different sort of warmth overtakes the post-orgasmic glow in Daniel's spent body. He pulls Armand close with unsteady hands and the vampire curls up against him with a content little sigh. Neither of them are in a hurry to move. The array of love bites gradually clot and stop bleeding.

Words: 1074

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Daniel x Armand

Summary: Daniel thinks about “Rashid” a little too much and a little too deep.

“Your doctor in New York was consulted and has given consent. You’ll find a note from him in your electronic mailbox.”

Unusual wording aside, Rashid’s manner of speaking also caught Daniel’s attention. Its haughty inflection sticks with him throughout the day, still running through his mind as he gets ready for bed that night, brushing his teeth and staring at his own tired features in the large, light-rimmed mirror. The way Rashid talks to him leaves barely any room for argument. Daniel hasn’t been shut down like that since before his last divorce. It’s kind of hot.

Nope. 

He’s not doing this. Not even, especially not, in the false privacy of his own perfectly climate-controlled guest bedroom. 

After stripping down to his boxer shorts and putting on a T-shirt—so old it might precede Rashid, but nice and soft with only a few small holes in it—he gets into bed and attempts to find a comfortable sleeping position, plagued with the knowledge that he’ll wake up at least twice in order to use the bathroom. Despite it having been another long and draining day, his thoughts are not ready to quiet down yet. 

Words: 878 Rating: Explicit Pairing: Louis x Daniel x Armand Summary: The surpise we all wanted to happen.

He would never admit this to a living soul, but a deeply buried part of Daniel had (foolishly) hoped there would still be some eroticism involved with coming to see the eternally young and beautiful vampire, despite, after so many decades, being old and decrepit himself. 

In the end, it was not just eroticism awaiting him in Dubai, but something more profound and precious as well. 

And now, well…

“We have a surprise for you,” Louis had said to him, a couple of hours ago. Which turned out to be the understatement of the century.

The lavish dinner had been nice, although the numerous glances exchanged between Louis and his boyfriend had been very distracting, and made Daniel feel (hope) like he was going to end up as dessert.

Presently, lying on his back with Armand between his spread thighs pushing into him, and his head thrown back over the edge of the bed so Louis can stuff his face full of cock, Daniel can’t help but wonder if there’s a heaven after all and he somehow managed to blunder his way into it. Then a sharp set of nails digs into the meat of his hips, causing him to gag a little, and he thinks: ‘nah, I’m still alive and this is really happening’.

Easy. You’re doin’ great.

Louis’ voice in his head. The sensation of thumbs stroking his stretched cheeks. Daniel wonders why Louis doesn’t just talk out loud, since it’s not his mouth that’s currently occupied.

Our beautiful boy. Still asking questions, even now. 

That’s Armand, sounding amused and too fond to be anything but sincere. Daniel got two vampires for the price of one. Special sale. Get them while you're still warm and breathing.

Things are good. They're good again. Which is great, it's really nice, and it's more than a little scary. And well, sometimes ye olde feeling creeps up on Richard. That feeling that he's good for nothing and nobody.

Syd and Carmy flit through the bustling kitchen (corner, behind, behind, behind, behind), completing each other's sentences while speaking an entirely different language than the rest of them. They're probably in the middle of creating some mindblowing, next-level dish, another culinary love child to add to their evergrowing collection. The intense enthusiasm on their faces makes them look even younger than those fuckers already are, and Richard suddenly feels every year of his four and a half decades.

So yeah, maybe he's a little more cranky than usual when dealing with Fak's idiocy today. And maybe he slams the door just a little too hard on his way to his smoke break. And maybe he's a little too quiet that evening, when they're at Carmy's place together. (Who—out of the three of them—has the biggest bed and no cohabitants.)

He's on the couch next to a pile of faded denim, his eyes on the TV screen but his ears busy trying to pick up what they're talking about in the next room, their voices hushed and serious.

And then it hits him. This is probably it, this is Tiff all over again, this is-

"Hey Richie?!" Carmen's voice calls out from the bedroom.

"Yeah?!" he yells back, somehow managing to not sound like his world is crumbling around him.

"Come get dessert!"

It takes him a moment to recalibrate. Alright. Okay. Carmy wouldn't call a break-up 'dessert', he's not that mean. Syd might, if he really fucked things up between them, then yeah, she'd probably ask Marcus to bake a cake that says 'you're single again, you piece of shit' and serve it to him. But Carmy wouldn't stoop that low, and therefore he is freaking out about nothing so he's going to stop freaking out now. Things are good.

Things are good.

Things are really fucking good, because there's homemade chocolate sauce smeared on his lips, across his chest and currently being lapped out of his belly button, which kind of tickles but it's also en route to his dick so he's very excited about that.

Carmen pulls back from his now-clean belly button and reaches for the half-empty dessert bowl just as Sydney gives him another deep kiss that tastes like chocolate and something even sweeter. It's kind of overwhelming to be the center of their attention and adoration, being fussed over like plated food and devoured at the same time, and he finds it difficult to let them in—really let them in—even on a good day.

It doesn't help that they keep telling him nice shit, real sappy shit, except that it does help because it hurts but somehow it also makes him feel better about today. And then Carmy proceeds to give him a chocolately handjob that ends in a very messy blowie, all the while rubbing comforting circles on his inner thigh with his thumb, and Syd pinches his nipples just on the right side of too harsh and kisses him breathless until his toes curl and he replaces the taste of chocolate in Carmy's mouth with a flavor of his own.

After their shower (somehow Carmy ended up covered in almost as much sauce as him, the messy freak) they cuddle up in bed, placing him in the middle, and he tries to somewhat regain control of the situation, of all these feelings that they're making him feel, with their caring, with their seemingly endless understanding, and patience. And love.