#one's a vampire? chill what kind of blood does he want

[buzzcat]

today's wordcount brought to you by: there is no way on this green earth that Gale Dekarios doesn't have a good relationship with his mother, and i'm going to write nice cozy friends-and-family fic about it

[lesservillain]

My Beloved Monster and Me.

eddie munson x cryptid!reader

cw: smut, blood, wounds, death, inhuman!reader

a/n: just a little something i’ve been wanting to write for a while. figured why not make it my come back post.

Eddie felt the life draining from his body. Sure, it hurt. But it was merely an afterthought with the way you were making him feel as you rode him with reckless abandon.

He knew better than to venture out in the woods alone with all the mysterious deaths that happened in Hawkins over the last few years. Wayne always told him there was otherworldly things lurking around this town.

Eddie wasn’t afraid, though. Nothing anybody could say to him would keep him out. He knew nothing would come after him in the woods. And if they did, they wouldn’t last long enough to know what hit them.

“Uuuugh, fuck,” Eddie moans, voice horse from the way your teeth grip his throat. He could feel himself slowly slipping away, his climax reaching its impending peak at the same pace.

The thrill of dying in such a way is what kept Eddie coming back here. Back to where he knew you would be, in this clearing.

He didn’t know exactly what you were, mostly because you didn’t speak to him. The most he got out of you was a few chirps and expressive gestures. But if he had to guess, he’d say you were some kind of vampire.

He knew you’d killed others before him. Stumbling upon a fresh kill of yours by pure accident being the reason you’d even cross paths. And even after this whole…situation, became a reoccurring event.

But, one thing Eddie was certain of, was that he was the only one you were giving this “special treatment” to. It even seemed that you’d been excited to see him here recently.

The moan that vibrated against the skin of Eddie’s neck sent chills down his body. He could tell you were getting close to cumming, knowing the signs tour body gives him now after all of your times together.

Eddie musters his strength and does his best attempt in slowing your movements. Thankfully you give in without much fight, and Eddie is able to adjust himself just enough to where he can thrust up into you.

The crunch of forest floor under his shoe is barely audible over the sound of your wails of ecstasy. Removing yourself from Eddie’s neck, you let him bounce you on his cock, the hot blood dripping down his neck from the wound.

Everything becomes a sensation overload to him, Eddie speeding up briefly before all movements come to a halt. His grip would be bruising on a normal human, but it’s wouldn’t leave a mark on you.

His hot cum fills up your now warm cunt, the blood from his body flowing through your veins and bringing you back to an almost alive state of bodily function. Eddie didn’t understand it, probably never would. But, something about his blood pumping in your veins made him feel special.

Your body slumps, arms wrapping around his neck as you lay onto top of him. He can feel your tongue gliding across the wounds you gave him, the punctures closing at an unnatural rate that he’s learned to accept. No scars either, thankfully. That would be hard to explain if they did, considering how often he comes to see you now.

Eddie wraps his arms around you tight, to which he is met with more happy chirps from you. You look up at him, mouth bloody, but still as beautiful as ever. He leans in and lets his lips meet yours, the irony taste of his own blood stinging his tongue.

“Missed you, sweetheart,” Eddie says with a dimpled smile. You nuzzle into him and Eddie beams, hopeful that it meant you were staring to understand him. He’d been trying his best to teach you to communicate, but teaching the english language was even harder than learning it yourself.

“Eddie.” His name coming from your otherworldly voice would send chills of fear down his spine in any other context. Instead he feels his heart flutter in his chest, practically beaming with joy.

thanks for reading 🖤

[anonymous-dentist]

Or: The Vampire Prince has run away from home. Coincidentally, a hot guy has passed out on Roier's doorstep.

For Day One of @ender-princee's QSMP AU Week! Idk how many of these I'm going to do, but I wanted to get at least this one done!

-

Since the death of his son, Roier has spent his days peacefully laying in the pond behind his house and watching the clouds. Sometimes he makes up stories for them, sometimes he fills his mouth with water and waits for his lungs to collapse, sometimes he imagines Jaiden on the shoreline sketching the clouds out with Bobby by her side.

It's pretty chill.

He's alone these days. Kinda? Technically, Jaiden lives with him, but he hasn't seen her since the Federation took Bobby away. He thinks that she has an apartment in the city now. Good for her, honestly. If the city makes her happy, then she should be there.

It's very quiet.

Roier's house is in the middle of the woods miles away from the nearest city. He's close to the border between the Human and Vampire Kingdoms, but he doesn't really get many visitors. And that's fine! Really! He doesn't need visitors, he has his pond, and he has his son's grave to talk to when he's lonely.

Every morning at the crack of dawn, Roier goes to the pond. He gets used to the water's temperature first, and then he flops into it face-first and sucks in enough water to make him choke. And then, once he's sputtering for air, he turns onto his back and coughs the water up and falls asleep. By mid-afternoon, he's inside and completely naked and drying his clothes out and trying not to remember what he shouldn't be. And then, in the evening, he's back in the pond just in case some polite water spirit wants to drown him, and then it's inside for bed.

This morning, though, is weird, because there's something blocking Roier's front door from the outside. After a bit of pushing and grumbling, Roier eventually manages to get the door open just to see... a man. A really attractive man: scars, facial hair, the works. A really attractive man just completely passed out and entirely unconscious on Roier's doorstep.

Roier looks at the man. He's pale- too pale to be human. And, adding in the slight point to his ears, that means that this guy? Vampire, 100-percent. So that's cool.

The sun is about to rise, so Roier decides to do his one good deed of the year, and he drags the vampire into his house. It's entirely too easy to do, the man's so light, but who's Roier to judge someone's eating habits when he's barely been making himself one meal a day since Bobby's death? Could be a similar circumstance, who knows?

Once the vampire is settled on a pile of old blankets near the stove, Roier stands up, cracks his neck, and heads outside to go wallow in the pond.

If there's one thing that Roier is besides a bad father and a brilliant chef, it's punctual.

-

It takes two days for the vampire to wake up, and Roier spends those two days in the pond floating and in the forest hunting. He thinks that vampires prefer fresh blood, but he also thinks that this guy won't care what kind of blood he gets after how long he's been passed out.

And he's right! The second the vampire is awake, he's beelining for the jug of deer blood on the table.

Roier, shirtless and drying his clothes by the fireplace after that morning's soak, hardly reacts to the poor guy guzzling down the blood like it's the first thing he's had to eat in days (mostly because it is the first thing he's had to eat in days.) He isn't naked if only for the vampire's comfort, even if it is a little uncomfortable sitting in wet clothes.

Once the vampire is full, he collapses onto a chair at the table with a groan. He leans back, throws his head back, covers his face with his hands, and groans again.

Me, too, Roier thinks.

(He and this vampire could probably be very good friends.)

"What the fuck?" the vampire moans.

Roier shrugs in response, not expecting to be noticed. Does the vampire even know he's there? Probably, vampires can hear heartbeats and stuff.

Eventually, the vampire looks at Roier through his fingers.

"Dude," is the first thing he says to Roier.

And then:

"Why are you shirtless?"

Now, Roier can't exactly say that he's trying to visit his (dead) son, so he just says, "Fell into the pond, man, what does it matter?"

And then, because he's a bit of an asshole, he teases, "What, are you shy?"

"No! I'm just confused!" the vampire quickly responds. "Like, okay. I fainted outside of your door, I guess? And then I wake up, and you're shirtless. It's just a lot, you know?"

Roier nods. "So you are shy. That's fine, I get it."

The vampire's hands fall from his face, and he looks at Roier with slight confusion, slight annoyance, all handsome.

"Where am I?" he asks.

"My house. We're, uhhh... two days' walk from the border? The nearest city is Quesadilla, that's four days' walk."

"Oh," the vampire quietly says.

He looks around the house curiously.

"And you're human?" he asks.

Roier grins. "Yep! Unless my dads have been keeping something from me, anyway."

The vampire lets out a quiet laugh. And then he winces and presses a hand to his ribs.

Roier politely turns back to the fireplace. None of his business...

"I hate to ask you this, but... can I stay here for a little while longer?" the vampire asks. He sounds pained- out of breath, very tense. "I... may have broken my ribs earlier. When I was. Mm, fuck! Out there."

It's very quiet in the woods now that Roier's son is dead and his co-parent is gone. Roier hates the quiet, but he can't really imagine anything else anymore. He doesn't want his guest asking questions when he sees Roier going outside at dawn.

But, like. He feels bad, okay? He remembers being all alone and hurt in the woods after what Spreen did to him, he knows the pain, he knows how fucking annoying it is to be running through a dark forest with a busted rib and a bleeding hole in his chest and back.

So he nods and says, "Sure, man. Stay however long you want. Just don't eat me, eh? I have people who'll miss me."

(He thinks.)

The vampire audibly rolls his eyes. "Vampires don't eat humans, but I guess I won't eat you. You don't look very tasty, anyway."

Hurt, Roier spins around to shout at him in protest with an, "Ayyy!!!", and thus begins what he's sure will be only the first of many arguments.

-

The vampire's name is Cellbit, and he doesn't ask questions. He sleeps for most of the day and spends his nights in the back garden tending to some wildflowers he's decided to cultivate or inside reading.

On his second day awake, he'd told Roier where he had hidden his bag before passing out, and he'd sent Roier to get it. Roier still doesn't know all of what's inside, but he does know that it's one of those special bags that are bigger on the inside, and that Cellbit has a couple of extra sets of clothes and a lot of books in it. He also has a couple of 'blood supplement pills' that are supposed to make him less hungry, but he says those are for emergencies because "they taste like shit".

Cellbit doesn't say anything about his personal life, and he doesn't explain why he ended up hiding his bag and passing out in the middle of the woods so close to the Vampire Kingdom's border with what has turned out to be several broken ribs and a broken fang and a sprained ankle and a black eye, but that's fine. Roier doesn't need to know, just like how Cellbit doesn't need to know all of Roier's baggage.

For Cellbit's sake, Roier doesn't strip naked in the afternoons when he's drying his clothes. Nah, he changes clothes and lets his wet ones dry outside in the sun. And then he lays outside and dries in the sun, and it's almost as relaxing as laying in the pond is.

It's still quiet, but there's a nice buzz in the background all day that almost reminds Roier of when times were better and his son wasn't dead.

Almost.

-

Just after sunset, Cellbit comes outside to water his flowers.

He lets out a pained breath as he kneels down next to them with his makeshift watering can: an old bowl with a hole cut in it, and an even older cup with holes punched to it stuck onto the side of the bowl.

Roier floats.

"You know," he says, "I can go into the city and get you some actual seeds if you're planning on sticking around."

"I thought you said the city was four days away?"

"Yeah, but it's not like I have anything else to do."

(It would give him an excuse to see Jaiden again.)

"Well. I don't need seeds. I like wildflowers for a reason. They get to just... be. No human intervention." A pause. "Or, well, vampire intervention."

Mmm, that sounds like a metaphor for something.

Cellbit waters his flowers. They're pink little things: ruffly like a skirt with white stripes and big, broad leaves. They're pretty, definitely something Tilín would have liked.

Roier's head bumps against the rocky wall of the pond. He grumbles and uses his hand to push himself back towards the pond's center where it's deepest.

"It's nice out here," Cellbit says. "Maybe I'll build a house here. We can be neighbors!"

Roier smiles at the thought. He moved out here with Jaiden and Bobby to get away from the city and all the bastards in it, but he wouldn't mind some company. He likes Cellbit, he thinks. Definitely neighbor-worthy.

...Though the house will be just that little bit quieter.

Maybe he and Cellbit can have their meals together. Or something.

Cellbit grunts as he stands, and then he hobbles over to the pond and sits down. He pulls his socks and shoes off and puts them next to him, he rolls his pants up to his knees, and then he sticks his feet in the water.

Roier gasps, "What, for free?"

He cackles as Cellbit kicks a wave of annoyed water at him. Some water gets in his mouth, but that's fine. Nothing he isn't used to.

-

Roier goes hunting twice a week so Cellbit has blood to eat. Drink? Feed from? Whatever.

He used to hunt more before he moved into the woods with his family. He and Spreen and Missa and Quackity and Mariana would all go out together to the outskirts of the city and see who could bag the biggest deer or the most rabbits, and it was awesome! Spreen always won, but that was just how it was.

Spreen always won.

Every time Roier carves the heart out of a deer and drains its blood, he pretends that it's Spreen's body beneath him. Spreen's final breaths- panicked and pained and pathetic. Spreen's heart- ugly. Spreen's hand holding his and Spreen's voice begging him to stop and Spreen's voice apologizing but not meaning it, never fucking meaning it, because he went too far and he didn't fucking care and-

And then Roier fills a jug with blood and brings it back to the house. Cellbit only needs to feed once a week, supposedly, but Roier likes having extra blood in the house just in case.

Cellbit seems to appreciate the thought, at least. He always brightens when Roier walks into the house with a fresh jug of blood, and he always tries helping Roier go hunting even though he can barely walk on his fucked-up ankle.

He's sweet. Roier almost doesn't want him to go, but he's going to, eventually.

They always do.

-

Roier needs to go into the city to stock up on medicines for the winter, and he tells Cellbit this and asks if Cellbit needs him to stock up on extra blood before he goes.

"I can just go with you," Cellbit replies. He rolls his ankle around in a small circle. "I'm feeling much better, and I want to get some actual gardening stuff."

'And I'll be lonely without you', Roier knows Cellbit's heart is saying, because his own is saying it, too.

...So maybe they're a little codependent already. But it's been almost two full months of them living together, and they're both two very attractive men, and they're both more than a little lonely.

Roier shrugs and agrees, and that's that.

Four days later, they're in Quesadilla, and Roier is at the pharmacy loading a basket full of everything he thinks he might need for the winter. He gets sick easily, and he gets sick often, and he does not want to die alone in a cabin in the woods during his first winter by himself. That would be embarrassing.

Cellbit is at the garden supplies shop down the road, so Roier is by himself as he waits in line to pay. And, because he's a nosy bitch, he listens as the women waiting in line in front of him gossip.

"It's been two months," one says, "he's definitely dead."

The other rolls her eyes. "Vampires can't die, idiot. He's probably just stuck in a dungeon somewhere."

"No, but he should be dead after what he's done," the first woman sniffs. "I hope the Federation dealt with him properly."

Roier stifles a wince at the mention of the Federation; ugh, he hates those guys!

"I don't know," the second woman sighs, "he is a prince. Are they even allowed to arrest princes?"

"See, this is why I'm glad the Human Kingdom has a council and a king. The Federation can arrest anybody breaking the law, and it'll be fine!"

"Well, at least he wasn't the heir to the throne. The Vampire Princess seems like a much more decent person."

"I mean, if our standards for 'decent' are if they're literally evil, then, sure, she's decent. Better than, uh... what did he do again?"

The second woman looks to the first in confusion. "I thought you knew?"

"I thought you did!"

Ignoring their arguing, Roier sneaks around them to cut in line and pay. Whoever they're talking about, Roier likes him. Anybody Cucurucho hates is a friend of Roier's!

-

Jaiden fills him in via a letter that arrives shortly after Roier and Cellbit return to the house. Roier reads it, and he tries not to look at Cellbit as he does so.

'So here's what I've heard,' the letter says. 'The Federation was interested in opening a branch in the Vampire Kingdom's capital city, and the king and queen were kind of into it. Their kids aren't, though. Princess Bagi wants to establish a more settled list of regulations- which Cucurucho is not into, by the way- and Prince Cellbit has been flat-out just arguing with Cucurucho and the other employees up there.

'But here's the thing, Prince Cellbit hasn't actually been seen in months! Cucurucho says that he's being 'dealt with' by his parents, but everybody knows that he's probably actually dead. It sucks for him, but I don't think he should've argued in the first place. I mean, the Federation does good work. If he hates it so much as to kill workers like everybody thinks he's been doing, then maybe he should be dealt with. Not by being killed, obviously, but maybe prison isn't too crazy. Hopefully that's where he ended up.

'Thanks for visiting, by the way. I missed you. I'll try and visit you before the first snow falls. I want to see Bobby one last time before the Solstice.'

Roier tosses the letter into the fire as soon as he's finished reading it.

-

By the time the first snow falls, Cellbit is fine. His ankle is better, his ribs are better, his eye is better. His fang is absolutely fucked, but he doesn't really need it if Roier is filling jars for him.

The pond, unfortunately, is frozen over. Roier sits by it the way he used to with Bobby back when they'd lace up their skates and get ready to go out onto the ice.

After a couple of minutes of dusk, Cellbit comes out to join him with a small smile. Their arms press into each other, and Roier fights the urge to rest his head on Cellbit's shoulder.

"This is my first winter away from home," Cellbit tells him.

"This is my first winter by myself," Roier tells him.

Cellbit looks mildly offended.

Roier smiles at him and gently nudges his side.

"By myself with you, gatinho," he teases. "How could I forget you?"

Cellbit looks positively regal in the snow. The way it settles in his hair looks like lace, his eyes are already as blue as ice. All he needs is a silvery crown, and he could be the Winter King from all the stories Roier heard when he was a kid.

He rolls his eyes and nudges Roier back.

Roier nudges him again.

Cellbit nudges him again, slightly harder.

Roier nudges him with his hands, pushing him over and into the snow.

Moments later, he's being tackled into the snow by a very chilly vampire. He's absolutely freezing, but his face is still very warm as Cellbit pins him down and looks into his eyes with a smile as wide as his handsome face.

Slowly, Cellbit leans his head down. At the same time, Roier props himself up on his elbows, raising his head to meet him. He moves on instinct, heart pounding, eyes fluttering shut.

Chapped lips brush against his, and Roier feels warm aaaalll over.

-

On the day of the Solstice, Roier visits Bobby's grave with a book. Every year, he and Jaiden and Bobby would snuggle together in Bobby's bed and read A Solstice Song to him; he never got into the Solstice spirit, but he loved the ghosts.

Roier clears the snow off of the bench by Bobby's tombstone. He sits, opens the book, and reads.

Hours later when he's finished, he's crawling into bed shivering and crying. He doesn't look at Cellbit, he doesn't do anything except shed his coat and hat and gloves and shoes and drop the book to the floor and get into bed.

A few very hesitant moments later, Cellbit joins him. He stay sitting up, though one of his hands finds its way into Roier's hair.

"'Fred was dead to begin with'," Cellbit reads, "'There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk,the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Elena signed it. And Elena’s name was good upon ’Change, for anything she chose to put her hand to.'"

Roier turns to hide his face in Cellbit's side, and he cries.

-

Spring comes, and Roier drains the pond to clean it.

It's as he's knee-deep in mud and dead leaves as the sun sets, and that's when Cellbit comes outside with a guilty look on his face.

"I haven't been totally honest with you," he says.

Roier sighs and sticks his shovel down into the much and leans against it.

"Is this about the Vampire Prince stuff?" he asks. "Because I don't care about any of that. You're my gatinho, and that's all that matters."

Cellbit's entire body freezes. He seems to think for a long, long moment before his shoulders start loosening.

"Oh," he says. He's smart, but he's also stupid. He didn't even give Roier a fake name, gods.

Roier takes pity on him and blows him a kiss that Cellbit gladly catches and pulls to his unbeating heart.

"I don't care what you did," Roier gently says. "I don't care what people say you did. I don't care if you're the prince or some homeless guy I took pity on, you're my Cellbit. As long as you don't hurt me, I don't care."

Cellbit's eyes widen immediately in panic. "What? No, never! I'd never hurt you! I'd hurt for you, but never you. Never."

Roier smiles at him. "See? Problem solved. Now, get a shovel, we need this cleaned and refilled before mid-spring."

Cellbit wrinkles his nose at the mess, but he goes to get his gardening shovel from the shed that he and Roier built.

"Why?" he asks. "What's in mid-spring?"

Roier swallows and looks up at the still-setting sun.

"Bobby's birthday," he answers.

He waves to the setting sun. Goodnight, sweet prince.

[elusive---ivory]

Yandere!Vampire x Reader

Hey!! Howdy!! fics have been a little slow, but!! I am still getting used to writing again, so please bear with me. My requests are still open!! Please help me with ideas!!!

Warnings: mentions of blood, nsfw mentions, violence, yandere tendencies, kidnapping, murder.

A vampire's life is filled with solitude. He is distraught with grief. After living in the human world for over a thousand years, he found life on this Earth monotonous and dreary. He's experienced the world, but his heart is still empty. His thirst for blood lives on. He yearns for a companion.

However, he has yet to find the right one. Until you came along. You were walking with your friends late at night. He was looking for a new host to feed on. His thirst led him to follow you, closely. You were interesting to watch. Usually, he didn't find mortals interesting, but when you were out with your friends, you got up to all kinds of mischief. Your friends were pranking people's houses, while you were looking for cats to pick up from the street and pet them.

He smirked. Frankly, human life was meaningless to him. But, why does a small human like you interest him so?

He couldn't bring himself to drink from you, so he took another victim instead. He trapped himself in his mansion. You didn't leave his thoughts. His servant was worried about their dear vampire master. His chambers weren't disturbed. His cold heart started to beat again in his chest. You were the person that he wanted to spend eternity with.

His servant was the first person to catch onto their master's lovesick expression. On the cover of the night, they went to your home and abducted you while you were deeply asleep. You woke up in unfamiliar surroundings. The mansion was huge with spiraling staircases, and a large portrait of the Vampire sitting in the living room.

You were confused as to how you got into some goth dude's mansion. The servant was making human food in the kitchen. You walked in, surprised at the little man at the stove.

"Oh good, you're awake." The servant muttered sarcastically. "The master requests that you eat this human slop." It was a beautifully made plate of waffles, pancakes, and fruit all laid out on a plate.

"Wow! I don't know if I can eat all that." You said, smiling gently. You sit down at the table and began to take as much as you would like. "Thank you so much."

The servant scoffed, stepping down from their stepping stool. "Don't thank me. You should thank the master. He's the one that didn't kill you."

"The 'master'? Is he the guy that owns this place?" You asked, looking around the kitchen. Curtains wrapped in tin foil decorated the kitchen, as well as most of the giant home. You began to piece together what kind of person who might live here.

"Yes, of course. You should get dressed. There are clothes for you on the table." The servant sipped their tea. "Hurry up!" They scolded.

You looked at the outfit. It was a gorgeous Victorian gown with a deep red color and it was velvet to the touch. You smiled, running back up to your bedroom. Putting on this dress was like a dream. The corset fit nicely and wasn't as suffocating as most corsets of the era were. The dress hung snugly around your waist.

You looked at yourself in the mirror. It was very rare that you'd find yourself enjoying your appearance. You smiled to yourself while fixing your hair. You felt something like a ghost touch your neck gently. When you whipped your head around, you found no one there.

You could hear an airy laugh as you opened your bedroom door. A chill ran down your spine. You didn't want to think the house was haunted, but with vampires existing, ghosts aren't a farfetched idea.

You helped Servant for hours on end. You were getting ready for the arrival of the Master. You looked at the portrait of the Vampire again, and you heard that laugh once again. This time it was right inside your ear.

"Enjoying my masterpiece, kitten?" The Vampire purred deeply.

You jumped, turning your head, looking directly at the master of the household. You blush immensely, trying to maintain eye contact. You find yourself stuck on words. Before you go to say something, the vampire interrupts.

"Did a cat cut your tongue, dear girl? Please, speak. Tell me your name, darling." He pulled you close, placing his slender hand on your hip. "Could I call you 'Kitty'?"

You were taken aback by all of this sudden affection. While you were very flattered, the Vampire could tell that you didn't trust him with your heart.

He smiled softly. "I don't mean to frighten you, dear. I simply want to have a meal with you."

You gulped, nodding slowly. "Alright, but afterwards, you have to let me go."

The Vampire chuckled darkly. "Of course, my love. I promise you'll be able to leave immediately after."

He looked over at the Servant, who simply pushed their glasses up.

You sat across the vampire with a long wooden table divided them. You looked at your meal, it was a combination of all your favorite meals. You were frankly shocked.

The Vampire watched you with a smile. A tall grin appeared on his lips. He watched you eat like a wolf watching his prey. You were oblivious.

When you were finished, his eyes were glued to the plate. You got up from your chair, wiping your mouth off with a napkin. "Thank you for the meal, dear sir. But, I must be going."

The Vampire grinned sinisterly. "Oh? Aren't you going to stay for dessert?" The Vampire used his powers to pull you towards him from across the table.

He pulled you into his arms. His pupils glowed a bright red. His pointed teeth grazed your skin, then he bite into you, drinking you slowly.

The feeling of being drained slowly was a wonderful feeling. For a moment, the sharp pain in your neck didn't matter compared to the euphoria. You fall to your knees, half-drunk, while the pain in your neck starts to bulge.

The Vampire handed you a tiny vile. "Drink, my love. Drink and spend eternity with me."

[vampirzina]

Bi han and kuai liamg with a vaternian/vampire reader pleasee how they met how they are together ect

𓆩𓆪 ┆ vaeternian!reader (w. Bi Han & Kuai Liang) hcs

tw: gn!pronouns, sfw, mdni, blood speak, nitara, wu lae and tomas mention

notes: this req wait i’m geeked ?! also quick reminder, requests are closed as of right now! any requests made after jan. 31 won’t be done, this request came in prior to the closing

masterlist

You “met” Bi Han before things got all-around bad for everyone. Though Vaeternus has their own realm to live, it’s known that there is not enough supply to feed your kinds’ severe population problem. You haven’t been there in years, even before the coven decided to scour the realms for food—you were always ten steps ahead. You descended upon the Lin Kuei, and that’s when you met Bi Han.

Initially, you and Bi Han had a deal. You wanted to feed, and Bi Han wanted to keep you from eating up his initiates. Obviously, Liu Kang left this decision up to him, who was determined to make a pawn out of you—he’d let you feed from him if you didn’t drain his ninja and you ran errands for the Lin Kuei. Somewhere down the line he’d become selfish of you… You noticed that when he begins to note when you hadn’t bitten him in a while, as if he’s expecting you or keeping track of your eating habits, and you mention that you’d eaten already (who fed you?).

With Bi Han, there’s no promises that he can keep his temper in check. There’s so many things that upset him; so many things that are on thin ice that one should not hope to fall through. Bi Han’s blood becomes chilled by the cryomancy running through his veins, and, as you guess, can make him a meal akin to gallons of ice cream. Brain freeze happens so easily with him and you have to remind him to chill out.

Once you and Bi Han make it official, he wants you to only feed on him. Perhaps it’s a human thing, but there’s just something intimate about feeding from someone else that a man like Bi Han does not enjoy. He knows you’re loyal and would never do anything to upset him on purpose because you’re just having a meal, but you seeking out someone else to eat from makes it seem like he’s inadequate when he’s far from. In order to make this a reality, Bi Han suggests you just live with him early on.

An unlikely pair Bi Han makes with you, by all accounts. You were the one to suggest the relationship, but that didn’t mean Bi Han didn’t dwell on the thought of having you in his bed. The deal you both struck up was a mere hollow hideaway for his true feelings for you—despite you unable to walk out into the sun, needing to feed on blood and everything that makes you a vampire, you were strong and powerful, and Bi Han liked that. Sure, maybe he likes a submissive partner who does what they’re told, but he’d be lying if he said he wanted a total helpless do-nothing who couldn’t protect themselves if his enemies find out who he keeps close.

₊˚⊹꒷

For the last time, you thank the nurse. Your wings tense at the simple brush of your own fingers against the bandage of your wrist. You’d sprain it on a solo mission and though you would be fine, you let out a little sigh. This’ll be annoying.

You hear the nurse mutter and step aside on the way out. You look up.

The nurse gone, Bi Han is already shutting the door behind him. His brown eyes don’t look at you, but your wrist—and his face paints itself a small frown.

“I did it,” you follow his gaze down to the injury. “You wanted to send a message, right? He won’t be bothering the Lin Kuei for a while.”

“Thank you. You did well,” was all Bi Han said in return. It didn’t even sound thankful but you knew he meant it; he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about something. The grandmaster stops close to you, close enough that he could touch you without strain.

You watch with warm eyes Bi Han inspect the injury.

“If you’re thinking what I think you are, no… Wu Lae couldn’t have laid a paw on me,” you explained in him even though he hadn’t asked. “Just did not quite stick the landing coming back.”

His frame visibly relaxes, and he’s so close to you that you can faintly feel him exhale through his nose.

“Anyway, I had plans to eat when I came back but you look tired,” you rasp, hands coming to massage Bi Han’s arms. You could feel satisfied by just the juicy feel of it, the blood, but you know better.

“I’m not,”

“You are,”

“Eat from me,” he interrupted you into silence, a silence which you honored to hear him. “We’ve been over this. There is no excuse, no reason for you to go looking when I’m right here.”

It took a moment of staring between you two to finally give in. You guide Bi Han’s arms around you and your legs around him, and his breath hitches when you keel him over.

“Fine. But don’t complain when you wake up with a sore body.”

───

Bi Han likes to read you by the way your wings move.

Thanks to Nitara, you and Kuai Liang met. It’s unclear whether or not you two would have even had the chance to meet if she weren’t trying to attack Kuai Liang and his brothers. You’d spotted them long before she was sent by Shang Tsung and his backers, and you were quick to place your dibs. So when she swooped in despite your claim to the food, of course you saved him. It was a short conversation of gratitude and greeting, but the spark of a flame nonetheless.

After watching Bi Han’s betrayal from afar, you couldn’t bear to keep hunting Kuai Liang. You were a vampire, not morally depraved—but now you didn’t know what to do. With your hunger growing and the inability to find sufficient meals to get by running from you, you eventually became weak. You’d only think to go to the very new Shirai Ryu and collapse on their doorstep in a silent plea for mercy. Kuai Liang, the man he is, “sacrificed” himself for you to eat; it was the least he could do after you saved him. He and you formed an attachment this way when he let you keep coming back.

Inadvertently, you teach Kuai Liang to control flares in his temper. Whenever he gets angry or upset, it sounds comical but his blood quite literally boils; his blood takes a while to cool, and you’ll burn yourself if you don’t take caution. Whenever he wants to get angry at something/someone, he thinks of what that’d mean for you. Kuai Liang is almost too mindful of you when it comes to not just his emotions… A lot of his thoughts are about you. The bond you’ve formed with him turned soon into a relationship, and you both hit it off.

While Kuai Liang sleeps at night, you don’t. Because Vaeternians can’t necessarily see the sun (lest they want to die), it only makes sense that your kind is most active on cloudy days and nights. For a while you have to reassure him that you’re fine alone while you hunt; he’s not really the type to get jealous if you find someone else to eat from, because it’s food. However, he subtly suggests that if you’re unsuccessful or unsatisfied, you can come back to him. You remind him he’s your boyfriend. You’d hope so.

Kuai Liang installs blackout curtains in his room when or if you move in. For obvious reasons. He sacrifices getting up on time for a long while and becomes reliant on you to wake him up.

₊˚⊹꒷

You land, beating your wings twice to stabilize you on the grounds of the Shirai Ryu. The sky had turned a deep blue hue to reflect the sun rising east. You fold the wings inwards as you retreat just in time to hide away until nightfall again.

Were you sated tonight? Better than yesterday. But all of that adrenaline wanes when you step foot inside.

You’d fully expect to see Kuai Liang greet you, as he’d usually do—when it’s time to get up and work overlaps when you’re worked out and tired—but it’s quiet. Not eerily so, though. You continue to move silently until you find your shared space.

There, in bed, Kuai Liang hugs tightly a pillow.

It’s so pitch black in here and he’s still so sound asleep that you don’t think he realizes that’s not you. Lucky for him, he needs no longer a substitute. You change into more comfortable clothes than the ones you discard to the side.

Kuai Liang stirs when you slip into bed.

“Good morning,” you quietly singsong, and the sound of your voice has him abandoning the pillow with the quickness—tired eyes search the dark while hands feel for you, to which you humor. Kuai Liang forces you to bunch your wings impossibly further as he pulls you into him.

You shudder at the heat he radiates. “So warm…”

“I dreamt of you, that’s why,” Kuai Liang groggily jokes, burying his face into your collarbone where he sears kisses. “How was it?”

“Enough for now,” you answered, tangling your legs in his to plant yourself further in his embrace. “And I think I know how well you slept, so—ha—there’s that. Now it’s my turn.”

You feel Kuai Liang frown on your neck. He’s been needy lately and wants to stay and cuddle you away the whole day, but he can’t just leave things to poor Tomas. It’s not fair.

“Sorry, flames,” you frown yourself, apologizing for something not your fault. “Don’t rush to get things done, either. I’ll probably be staying tonight.”

“Did something happen?” Kuai Liang looks at you from where he is with light concern.

You deny. “Just want you.”

───

Kuai Liang wants you to wrap your wings around him more often.

@𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐀೨

info

[flippinpancakes64]

Hi I found your blog today and it's great all around! Can you do HC's of the Cullen's with a couple who refuse the vegetarian lifestyle and consume human blood?

The Cullens with a Couple that consumes human blood

Thank you for the kind words!? Why is everyone in my inbox being so nice rn...

I interpreted this as meaning a romantic couple who are vampires who asked to join the Cullens but didn't have any relation to the Cullens before. I also didn't really make this romantic as far as with the other Cullens. I also tried my best to keep gender and details about the couple like nonexistent.

Thank you for requesting and I hope you like this!

Edward:

He's not very happy

When you two show up all he can think about is the possible dangers

And of course the fact that their cover could be blown

I feel like he would care a lot about staying in one place for a while

So he really likes blending in

But if you two promise to only hunt past state lines and far away from where they are, he might come around

In general, it's not the fact that you drink human blood that bothers him, it's just the possible risks

He would still be very wary

Reading your thoughts constantly to make sure you're not a risk

He would get used to you guys eventually, but he wouldn't let his guard down

Alice:

She saw you two coming and she warned the others

She couldn't see your intentions, all she could see were red eyes

And so when the two of you showed up, everybody was ready to stand guard

But after explaining your stories and that you simply wanted a family, she was more than happy

She could see that you guys would stick to your promises of blending in and respecting hunting ground

She is the quickest to warm up to either of you

Will be the one to invite you guys out to do things

She doesn't have a problem with either of you at all

She doesn't care that you two drink blood

She doesn't care that you guys won't change your ways

And she doesn't think you guys are a danger

Jasper:

The exact opposite of Alice

He actively hates you two

He does not trust you, he thinks you guys are liars, and he is constantly ready to attack if the time calls for it

He is convinced that you two must have an ulterior motive for joining their clan

Also resents you two for drinking human blood

That is something he hasn't had in so long and has been challenging himself to give up for the ability to stay with the Cullens and then you two waltz in and do it anyway?

He is beyond pissed

No matter how long you two stay there or how nice you are, as long as you drink human blood he will not warm up to you

And maybe even if you do conform he probably still wouldn't trust you

Sorry

Rosalie:

She'd be annoyed but just because there are more people

After the initial showdown after Alice's vision, she'd stop caring

She has a superiority complex because she's never tasted human blood, but she doesn't rub it in your faces

She doesn't care what you guys do

She's not really attached to any one place, after all

It would be no problem for her to pack up and move to a new city

She had to do it for years following Emmett's transformation

She mostly just gets annoyed at how crowded the house feels now

She says she has no "breathing" room

Honestly she might just take Emmett and pack up to live on their own for a little bit

But overall she's not mean and she doesn't care

She doesn't trust you guys but I feel like she doesn't trust a lot of people so

Emmett:

Another one who doesn't give a damn

When you two first show up, he's obviously ready for a fight

But after you prove that you pose no threat, he backs off

He gets along with you guys pretty well

He trusts you for the most part

Obviously a part of him is still ready if something were to happen

But other than that he's pretty chill

He gets a little bitter knowing that you two still drink human blood

But he gets over himself

Even though he doesn't mind you guys, he will follow Rosalie in a heartbeat

Esme:

She gets a little skeptical

She tries her best to be welcoming

But she is a little put off

She doesn't understand why you guys want to join them

But if you guys are nice then she's okay

Another one who is very hospitable

She'll invite you guys out to do things with the rest of them

She would be the one to invite you two to baseball

Will get over her mistrust of you guys eventually

And after she does she treats you like any of the other Cullens

Carlisle:

He is friends with many vampires who live the "natural" way and it's never stopped him before

He's on guard at first but he is definitely the first one to trust you guys

I mean he let like 30 vampires into his house

So he's chill

Questions you genuinely on why you wanted to be a part of his clan

And why you don't want to feed off of animals

But not in an accusatory way

More like an inquisitive way

He's a doctor first and foremost

And very interested in learning the specifics of vampirism

Treats you guys like old friends

Thumbs up

Vampire! Bella:

She'd get a bit angry

She feels like you two are entitled

And she doesn't want you to join them

Doesn't really trust you guys

Especially if they're still in Forks or somewhere nearby

All she can think about is Charlie and the potential danger you pose

She wants you gone

Like now

But if the other Cullens like you guys then she can't really make you do anything

Would come around eventually though

She just needs proof that you guys are following rules

And I feel like she'd be more okay with it if you guys only hunted criminals

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ 𝖇𝖊𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖎'𝖒 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖉 ♡

♡ Pairing: vampire!bang chan x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Summary: When playing with devils you must be careful not to become one yourself. Unless, of course, you want to...

♡ Genre: smut/angst w/ horror elements

♡ Word Count: 1.6k-ish

♡ Warnings: blood, biting, discussion of violence/death, unprotected sex (the man's literally dead though so, like...), reader death (only on a technicality. you're fine)

Limbs scattered through garbage-riddled alleys. Intestines strung from archways like streamers for some grand party. Bodies drained of blood. Husks of what they once were. Unrecognizable to even those closest to them.

What kind of monster could do such a thing? Despite the police department’s best efforts, the culprit that terrorizes the city, snatching victims in the darkest crevices of the night, remains a mystery to them. To everyone. Everyone, that is, but you. 

You know for a fact that the shadow looming at the end of your bed, this creature masquerading as a man, is responsible for these atrocities and, with the exception of a few unfortunate souls, he carries little remorse about what he’s done.

Chan honors your request not to hear the gory details of what he does but it’s difficult to escape them. It’s all over the news and social media. Your coworkers won’t shut up about it. It’s enough to make you sick to your stomach. Enough to make you never want to lay eyes on him again. 

But when he appears in your apartment tonight, the same as he has countless nights before, his eyes shimmering pools of black, he awakens something inside of you that makes your knowledge of what he’s done as hazy as a bad dream. You watch as he steps into the soft light cast through your window by the full moon.

Chan’s breathtakingly handsome, gifted with a body built for sin and bone structure to die for. It’s almost as if his maker crafted him for the express purpose of getting you to compromise your mortal soul. Chan laughs, cracking a devilish grin, “It’s a little too late for that isn’t it, my love?” You crawl to the middle of the bed, sitting with your legs tucked beneath you.

“Too late for what?” He comes face to face with you, the razor-sharp tips of his fangs glinting in the moonlight. “The whole ‘compromising your mortal soul’ thing.” Chan pinches one of your fluffy cheeks, his full lips pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re damned. The same as me.” A chill blows through you, the kind that whistles through long abandoned caves, at the thought that he might be right.

You shake it off, nervously running your fingers across the intricate lacing at the breast of your sheer black nightgown. “We are nothing alike” you snap, “And stop reading my mind!” Chan backs away from you, discarding what’s left of his clothes, and, ignoring your wish for your thoughts to remain untouched, listens in on the filth that lurks in the back of your mind when you see how hard you’ve gotten him.

That is why you wore something see-through, isn’t it? To tempt him with your lush breasts and the stiffening buds at their peaks. You know how ravenous it makes him to have free access to the softness of your stomach. To see your pillowy thighs grow even thicker when you sit the way you do now. 

You intended to send all of the blood rushing through the veins that travel along his thick, lengthy cock. Craved the sight of it, without even the most fleeting concern for whose blood it actually was. You blink and he’s behind you on the bed, his nails carefully shredding your nightgown to pieces.

The fabric melts down your body as smooth as butter. Chan takes your breasts into his hands, caressing them as he kisses your neck. “Tell me you want me to leave and I will.” Your head falls back on his shoulder, arms reaching back, fingers threading through his hair.

The coldness of his body battles the warmth of yours, a dynamic that has you sweating and shivering all at once. “Just say it,” he whispers, his right hand kneading your gentle form as he works his way down to your thighs, effortlessly parting them. 

“You want my help?” he asks, lightly squeezing your clit between his pointer and index fingers, “Repeat after me.”

“I…”

“I…” you whine, gripping his hair tighter. 

“Want…”

“Want…”

“You…”

“You...”

Chan dips his hand further between your thighs, muscles flexing beneath his skin as his fingers curve into you. “I want you” he hums, fangs pricking at your neck just enough to leave a mark without drawing blood. You repeat after him, word for word, “I want you. I want you. I want you.” The “to leave” is silent. Nonexistent.

You’ve considered many times asking him to leave before things went too far but you never had the strength, or the sincere longing, to do so. Chan can do so much more than read your mind. He can read your body like one would their favorite book. He knows that if he rotates his fingers just…like…this, it’ll tug at the most sensitive parts of you, making your pussy weep.

Chan plants kisses along your jawline, trailing up to your ear. “I want you too. Not just now,” he confesses, “Forever.” It’s a simple word, “forever”, but the emphasis placed upon it speaks volumes of his feelings for you. “Me too,” you say, not even thinking, only feeling. “I can make it that way, you know. I could…” The implication breaks you free of whatever spell you’re under.

You twist out of his arms, pulling the blanket over your naked body more for comfort than anything else. “Chan, you can’t be serious.” There’s that glint in his eye again, only this time it’s all his doing, the idea of turning you exciting him more than his last kill. “Why can’t I be serious?” he asks, climbing on top of you, his arms caging you in, “Tell me you've never thought of it.”

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t and, under the circumstances, it’s not even worth it to attempt to lie. At one point you harbored such a thirst for life but somewhere along the way, in a place that you can’t quite pinpoint, you lost it. Everything became dreary. Repetitive. Monotonous. Life lacked excitement. It lacked color. Nothing made you feel truly alive anymore.

Then came Chan. The spark that reignited the flame. You often wonder what it might be like to have the freedom that he does. The power. To have access to things far beyond the reach of humans. But what he does to those people you could never bring yourself to do. Chan slips the covers from between you, reuniting his body with yours. Bringing your legs around his waist, he brushes the tip of his cock between your folds.

You grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. You’re still so wet. Maybe wetter. “You’ll never have to” he promises, “ I’ll do it. All of it. Feed you. Care for you. I just, fuck, I want you more than anything.” Chan bucks his hips, sinking into you. You hiss at the stretch, your back arching as your walls swallow him deeper. It’s only been 24 hours since he last made love to you but it’s felt like a lifetime.

You wanted him….needed him…so badly. Each stroke is more intense than the last, satiating your thirst for more pressure each time he bottoms out. Your moans are as close to heaven as he’ll ever be. He kisses you passionately, capturing them with his tongue. This is the best you’ve felt all day. It’s the best you ever feel. Being in his arms, his lips pressed to yours, is indeed something you can never imagine losing.

“Will it hurt?”

Chan shakes his head, biting his lip as you clench tighter. “Never…mmm…hurt you.” “Then do it” you mewl, eyelids fluttering, defenses crumbling. The bed creaks as his thrusts quicken, the legs of the mahogany bedframe scratching at the floor. 200 years of lovers and no one’s even come close to feeling this good wrapped around his cock. You’re so vulnerable, so trusting, so fucking beautiful that he can’t waste another second not having secured you as his. 

Baring his fangs, he sinks them into your neck. You gasp at the force of the impact but the bite itself merely tickles, undetectable when paired with the frenzy of butterflies in your stomach. Chan brings his wrist to his mouth, making a small incision with one of his fangs. Your lips part knowingly, suckling at the wound when he presents it to you. Blood coats your tongue, a crimson copper-laced treat running down your throat.

There’s something in it, something special, that strengthens the floral scent of your perfume. It’s overpowering. Dizzying. Everything’s louder. The cars zipping by on the streets. The sounds of grasshoppers and cicadas calling their mates in the neighboring park. Your vision sharpens, and corners of your room previously dominated by darkness are now bright as day.

And you feel. Oh, you feel everything. You’re in tune with every aspect of your nervous system. This level of awareness is mind-numbing but you don’t want it to stop. Your breath catches, your orgasm arriving with such ferocity that your nails slice into his skin. “That’s it” he coos, “You’re all mine now so come for me. Just for me.” He says it like you have an option.

Like there’s anything you can to do stop yourself from unraveling, the juices flowing from your core like a river. You scream louder than you ever have. The only discernible word is his name, said over and over until your body’s too spent to even say that. Chan kisses up and down your body, whispering to you in a language unknown to you before but somehow understood fluently now. 

He’s praising you. Worshipping you. Swearing to honor your bond forever. To him, you’ve always been breathtakingly beautiful, gifted with a body built for sin and curves to die for. It’s almost as if your maker crafted you with the express purpose of tempting him to corrupt your mortal soul. What a sweet thing it was to destroy.

[madangel19]

For the smutty one liners…#15. Maybe Copia catches himself in a mirror somewhere…he does a double take. Instead of his own reflection, Dracopia is staring back at him. And he wants Copia to do naughty things. Dom/sub type of vibe.

Oh boi this is an interesting prompt. This was lots of fun to do >:3

Warning: Masturbation, handjobs, praise kink, biting, blood drinking, spooky dracopia stuff, Copia being a good boy and needing some praise

Word Count: 1523

Copia groaned, rubbing at his tired eyes. It was another long night of doing paperwork in his office and he was quickly losing focus. The pile of papers next to him was looking all the more tiring to look at. He had made a lot of progress, but it was clear he wasn’t going to make any more anytime soon. 

“I’ll do it in the morning. Gotta sleep,” he murmured, yawning as he stood up and stretched, cracking his back in several spots. 

He sighed and made his way to his quarters where he undressed into his pajamas. Once he was comfortable, he made his way to his bed.

“Copia,” a voice whispered, making him pause. That voice was so familiar. He looked around and saw nothing out of the ordinary.

“Ah, I need to sleep. I’m hearing things,” he said after seeing that he was alone in his room.

A sinister chuckle filled the air, sending a shiver running down his spine. Did he fall asleep at his desk again? He often had nightmares when that happened, but this felt real. This had to be Swiss’s doing. The multi ghoul had a habit of scaring him like this, but he didn’t feel the ghoul’s familiar chill presence in the room. 

“Who’s there? My office is closed for the night and I would like to get some sleep,” Copia said loudly, his eyes darting every which way to find the intruder. 

His gaze fell on the floor length mirror that stood near his bed and his heart nearly skipped a beat when he saw his reflection smiling back at him. It was him, but something was off about it. His reflection had one pale eye and one red red eye that stared right into his very soul. The reflection’s smile widened, revealing sharp fanged teeth. The reflection was clad in all black, making him look like a void. Despite the different eyes and teeth, the reflection looked just like him. 

“Cazzo. I really am dreaming,” Copia murmured, stepping closer to the mirror and touching his cheek. His reflection did the same. Once the reflection touched his cheek, Copia felt cold fingers caressing his skin.

“You’re not dreaming, Papa,” his reflection crowed, touching his neck. Copia shivered when he felt the reflections fingers on his neck. This had to be the work of the devil in some way. It was so fascinating, but so strange.

“Who are you?” Copia questioned. 

“Potential,” the reflection replied, snapping his fingers. The mirror changed and Copia found himself face to face with his normal reflection. The other reflection stood behind him, his hands on his reflection’s neck. Copia was dumbfounded. He had no idea what was going on, but the creature’s hands on his neck felt too nice for him to question anything further. 

“Hmm, it seems your blood is going elsewhere,” the creature chuckled darkly. 

Copia grunted when he felt and saw himself grow hard. The creature’s clawed hands roamed down to his pants, palming his front, making him all the more hard and wanting more. Copia looked behind and saw that he was still alone. This had to be a ghost of some kind. Maybe even a vampire, but vampires didn’t show up in reflections.

“Eager as always. Mmm, let’s play a little game,” the creature purred.

“What…What do you…you want to do?” Copia stammered.

“Sit on the bed and I’ll tell you,” the creature said, pulling his hands away.

Copia was quick to obey. He wanted the creature’s hands on him again. 

Once he was seated on the bed, he looked at the mirror and saw that it sat behind him. It was no longer clad in a black void and was now dressed in his vampire wing outfit. It looked more fitting for the creature as he stretched his arms out, revealing more realistic bat wings. 

“Um…I am ready for the game,” Copia said. 

“Good. Do as I say and keep your eyes on me and only me, Papa. If you look away or if you disobey me, then your punishment will be painful,” the creature said, moving his shirt to expose his flesh on his shoulder. The creature hissed, baring its fangs close to his skin. Copia felt the creature hissing in his ear, making him shudder in response. This certainly wasn’t good, but the rules didn’t seem too difficult. 

“Are you ready?” The creature questioned.

Copia nodded, keeping his eyes glued to the mirror. The creature grinned wickedly before placing its hands on his neck once more. Copia felt the urge to lean his head back to let the creature get more access, but that would mean looking away. He had to resist the temptation.

 “Take your pants off,” the creature ordered.

While still keeping his eyes peeled on his reflection, Copia got out of his pants, freeing his erect cock. The creature hummed in satisfaction as its hand trailed down his front and slowly stroked him. Copia’s eyes widened when he felt its hand on him. He wanted more than anything to look down and see if the creature was actually touching him, but he had to obey the rules. He had to be good for whatever this creature was. 

“Who would have thought that this is something that you’re into?” The creature purred as it continued pumping his cock while keeping its other hand around his throat. Copia moaned in response, feeling the need to lean back against the creature as he moved his hips for it. He needed to close his eyes and relax, but he had to obey. 

He kept his eyes on himself, blushing at the amount of precum that already leaked from his cock and coated the creature’s fingers. The creature didn’t stop. It continued stroking him while watching him like a hungry predator, its mismatched red and white eyes wide with hunger as if daring Copia to look away. 

Moments passed and Copia felt the urge to look down as he felt himself getting close. Something within him wanted to see what was really down there. If it meant being bitten, then he could handle it. He had been bitten by his ghouls plenty of times. 

The creature hummed softly and moved closer to his ear, giving it a playful nibble that he could feel.

“Look at you, you’re being so good for me,” it purred in his ear.

That was it. Just a few words of praise. That was enough to send him over the edge. Copia moaned and looked down, seeing his own hands on his hard cock as he came over them. An annoyed hiss filled the air and Copia looked back at the mirror. The creature glared at him, teeth bared angrily as both of its hands went to his neck. Copia felt his throat tighten and he was unable to move nor speak.

“Idiota. I told you not to move. It seems we have some work to do,” the creature growled before biting into his exposed shoulder. 

Copia yelped in pain, still unable to move despite trying his best to escape from the creature. He could only watch in shock as the creature feasted on his blood. He found he was able to move his hands and he reached up to touch his neck, but felt nothing there. He pulled his hand away and saw that it was coated in blood and cum. 

“A…A nightmare. A…sexy nightmare,” he murmured as everything went dark. 

“Wake up, Copia,” a voice whispered in his ear.

Copia grunted, forcing his eyes open. He was laying comfortably in his bed, clutching a Plushia close to his chest. He grimaced at the toy and pushed it away from him as he sat up in bed. He took in his surroundings until he noticed his mirror. He crept closer to it in hopes of seeing the creature from before. Nothing looked out of the ordinary nor was there any blood staining his sheets. There were some suspicious stains on his blanket but that had to be from his strange dream.

“Ah cazzo. No more juice boxes before bed, C,” he murmured, smacking his lips and feeling thirsty all of a sudden. His neck was sore and when he moved his shirt to see his neck, he saw no teeth marks there.

“You slept on it bad. Gotta work on that,” he said, taking in his appearance in the mirror once again. He could have sworn he saw his green eye glow red for a moment and he shook his head. It was just a dream.

“Why did it feel so real?” He questioned, feeling himself grow hard as he thought of the way the creature pleasured him. He sighed and made his way to the bathroom so he could handle it in the shower. He had quite a story to tell his ghouls. 

“Fuck, I’m thirsty,” he moaned, walking past the bathroom mirror. He tried not to look at it, but noticed his reflection standing still while watching him. It was all in his head. It had to be. 

“Go find something to drink after this, Papa”

[vampire-matcha]

Blood in the Wine-5

Chapter Five: Tannins

A/N: so, uh... it's been a while, huh? yeah... I'm sorry about that. but I'm two months sober, now. I just want to thank everyone who has been checking in and has been offering me support and kindness. I can't tell you all how much i appreciate it. Well, I hope this was all worth the wait! I feel like this chapter felt a little rushed, but let me know what y'all think. Love you! xoxo

Reader x Vampire!141

Warnings: Blood, injury, yelling, SMUT (I know y'all have been waiting for this) oral sex (f receiving), fingering, fem!reader, blood kink

(yeah I had to use the sexy Sleep Token song okay sue me)

MASTERLIST, CH1, CH2, CH3, CH4, CH6, CH7

---

Your feet seemed to move on their own accord, boots sticking in the mud. You tripped over yourself as you scrambled off the forest floor. And then you were running. You heard the haggard breath of the monster behind you, felt the hot puffs from its mouth on the back of your neck, but you didn't dare look behind you. You felt sharp claws graze across your back, tearing through your shirt and knocking you facedown on the ground. Before the monster behind you could completely overtake you, another body rushed past you. Sounds like animals fighting roared out behind you. Once again, your boots squelched in the mud and you got back on your feet. You kept your eyes forward as you sprinted through the forest. 

You should've been lost in a maze of trees and underbrush, but something in the pit of your gut told you where to go. The dirt pounding under your feet guided you, the trees whispered to you their secrets, and you followed the road of their roots systems until you broke out into the clearing once again. 

You squinted as the moonlight flashed in your eyes, so bright compared to the pitch blackness of the forest, and ran straight into something firm, but soft. Something familiar. You felt arms wrap around you, and your brain tried to tell your arms to fight back, but you froze all over again as a voice called out loudly next to your ear. 

"I've got her!" The voice was familiar. 

"Get her inside, now!" Someone else called from the other side of the clearing. Before you could register who was speaking, you were moving- or rather, you were being moved. The arms around you lifted your weight easily, and the world around you seemed to flash by in a slideshow of blurry snapshots. Your surroundings morphed into one another until your feet were planted onto the floor of Price’s study. Vertigo threatened to overtake you, but someone strong held you steady. 

“I've got you, love. I’ve got you,” the rich voice crooned. 

“Gaz?” you asked. Your whole body was shaking from adrenaline and your head was still spinning, but you recognized the voice. It was him. He shushed you gently. 

“Don’t worry. I’ve got you. You’re alright.” He seemed to be convincing himself as much as you. His hand stroked the back of your head, and the other held you securely against him. Your heart was pounding in your ears, and you were willing to bet he was listening to it, too. 

“Gaz, what the hell was that thing?” you asked into his neck where your face was still buried. 

“Don’t-” then the study door burst open. You flinched, and maybe you screamed, expecting that Dead face to be the one to greet you, but instead it was one equally chilling. Price slammed the door closed behind him with a look of unrestrained fury trained on you. 

“What the FUCK were you thinking?” he roars, taking long, calculated strides at you. “You stupid, stupid girl. I give you one rule to follow, ONE RULE, for your own safety, and you can't even listen to that?!” Gaz, to his credit, does his best to physically shield you from Price’s rage, pushing you behind him; but he can only do so much. Your mouth opened, and you tried to find the words to defend yourself, but they got stuck in your throat, blocked by the terror you couldn’t get ahold of. 

“John, please, just-” Gaz starts to try and diffuse the situation, but Price shoves him away with a snarl, leaving you bare and exposed to his wrath. 

“Do you understand you could’ve been killed? Do you not understand how dangerous the night is here? He would have ripped you apart, had you stayed out there a second longer.”

“Wh… who?”

“You’re lucky he had enough self-control not to tear into you then and there in the woods. No, instead he sunk his teeth into the next moving thing he saw, which just so happened to be Soap.”

“What? Is he okay?” Gaz interjected, concerned for his- boyfriend? What were they to each other? Now wasn’t the time to think about it. 

“He’ll be fine… he’ll heal,” Price answers, scrubbing at his beard and screwing his eyes closed. “You…” he started, pointing a finger and taking a dangerous step closer. His eyes were dilated and he licked his lips. There was no doubt he could smell the blood seeping out of your back. “Now, what are we going to do with you? Hm? I trusted you, gave you freedom to wander. I thought you’d be smart enough to heed my warnings, but clearly you’re not.” He raised a hand, seemingly to grab at you, but stopped himself short when you flinched away, clenching the hand into a fist and forcing it back down to his side. He shook his head. 

“Should I put a collar on you like Soap? Hm? Or should I chain you up in the cellar? Maybe a bedroom is too good for you.” He was leaning into your face at that point.

“John, stop.”

“I tried doing this the easy way- Tried giving you a choice. But if you want to act like a prisoner, maybe I should-”

“John, that’s enough!” Gaz interrupted once again, putting a firm hand on the older vampire’s chest and pushing him back. Price looked at him, stunned. You assumed Gaz standing up to him wasn’t a common occurrence. “Look at her, she’s scared out of her mind already. You’re making it worse.”

“She deserves to be scared.”

“She deserves an explanation. She deserves answers.” Price considered him, chest still heaving in anger. 

“Fine. You want to give her answers? Go ahead.” he motioned between Gaz and you. “But for fuck’s sake, don’t let her out of your sight.” he looked at you once more, swallowed hard, and then stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him again. 

A moment passed in silence. Gaz stared at the door with a look of disbelief. But then his eyes snapped back at you when a terrified sob clawed its way out of your chest. Your eyes were unfocused and your arms trembled as you hugged them close to your body in an attempt to shelter yourself. Gaz took a tentative step closer, holding his hands out in front of him. 

"Hey, hey, it's okay. You're okay," he cooed, speaking to you as if you were a wounded pet. Your body flinched away at first, but with more gentle words, you relaxed enough to allow him to place an arm around your shoulders and guide you to sit on the couch in the center of the room. "Hey, look at me." 

Your eyes snapped shut and you turned away from him at those horribly familiar words. Look at me. How could you ever look at him again? He sighed and placed a hand on your cheek. 

"I'm not going to compel you again. I promise." You choked through a couple more sobs. You couldn't trust his word. He'd betrayed your trust irreparably. Even still, his voice sounded so sincere. But didn't it always? You opened your eyes. 

"There she is," he said, smiling softly. "Just breathe for me, okay? In and out. With me." He did his best to guide your breath, and tried to calm you as much as himself. He kept swallowing, his mouth watering at the smell of your freshly-spilled blood. "Nobody's going to hurt you in here," he told you, but you still felt like prey. 

"I c- I can't!" You gasped. 

"Yes, darling, you can. Please, your heart's racing like mad." You knew. You could hear ot pounding in your ears. It would have drowned out Gaz's voice if he weren't so close. And goodness, he was close. 

"Price is gonna kill me!"

"No, he's not."

"Yes he is!"

"He can't hurt you! He can't!" You shook your head, but he continued. "He literally cannot hurt you, love. Listen to me." You quieted yourself the best you could, the rush of blood in your ears quieting minutely. "Once we entered the pact with you to keep you as our familiar, a bond was made. Your pain became our pain. Everything you feel, we feel, too. Price can't hurt you without hurting himself and the rest of us."

"But Ghost hurt me out in the woods."

"And he felt it. We all did. Trust me. He was blinded by his bloodlust, he didn't have the mind to stop and think. He held back as much as he could." 

"How are you holding back, then?" you wondered out loud. Would he pounce on you at any second? Was your time running out? You noticed the tension in his shoulders, the same tension you held in yours with every stinging throb of the shredded skin on your back.

"With great difficulty,' he answered through gritted teeth. He met your eyes, his pupils blown. He swallowed. "Can you please turn around so I can close the wounds?" 

"Close the… you're gonna feed on me like this? Now?" you asked. Your legs tensed up, getting ready to run for your life again. 

"No! No. Not really. I mean, technically, I'll still be- well- consuming your blood, yes. But just what's leaking out already. I won't bite you, I swear. Just- please, you're dripping all over the couch, love.” He tentatively pushed on your shoulder. “And the smell, it's driving me mad. Please just turn around." The desperation in his voice was clear, close to begging. And the stinging behind you was getting harder to ignore with every passing moment. 

You turned around, exposing you bloody back to him. You reached behind you to tug the tattered fabric up your back, but Gaz was quicker than you. 

Rrriiip!

You gasped at the obnoxious tearing sound, suddenly feeling much too hot and much too cold all at once. The remaining fabric of your shirt fell down your shoulders and you crossed your arms over your chest to prevent it from falling off altogether. 

"Gaz!" You scolded, but your admoniment fell on deaf ears, and you gasped once more at the sudden feeling of his soft tongue gliding up your back. 

He licked up the dripping rivulets of scarlet blood that wound down the canvas of your exposed back, before fixing his mouth on the five slashes. The sharp pain subsided to a tingling as one by one, with each swipe of Gaz's tongue, the wounds sealed themselves. His tongue and lips felt so soft and plush. 

You'd never thought to consider the space between your shoulder blades to be an erogenous zone, but as Gaz kissed and licked his way all over you, taking his time to clean every drop of your blood, you found yourself panting with want. His breath was so hot against you, heightened by the wetness of his spit left behind. 

It must be their venom. It has to be some kind of aphrodisiac. 

Gaz kissed his way up your spine and into the scoop of your neck. His lips lingered there. He promised not to bite. 

"I swear, you're the best thing I've ever tasted in both lives," he whispers into your skin. Your body flushed with another wave of heat. 

"What does it taste like?" You asked, voice equally hushed in anticipation- for what, you didn't yet know. His fingertips brushed up your arms. 

"It's hard to describe… it still tastes like blood, that hasn't changed. It's more like our perception of it changes. Imagine going your whole life hating chocolate, and then one day you wake up, and suddenly it's all you crave. And everyone around you smells like chocolate. 

"Some of them smell like cheap candy melt chocolate," he says, pressing another kiss to your bare shoulder, "others smell like Godiva." He kisses you again, working his way up your neck. "And you, my love…" His lips touch that sweet spot under your ear. "You taste like the whole damn sweet shop," he whispers directly into your ear. His hand grips your arm, guiding you to turn back to face him. His mouth and chin were ruddy, stained with the remnants of your wounds. 

"Like the finest artisanal chocolate this world has ever seen." His eyes are fixated on your lips. Those dark, crimson eyes that you'd pretended were brown because you couldn't help but want to get closer to him. You were closer, now, that much was certain. 

His chest was pressed against your back, the fabric of his shirt a little too rough against the raw, sensitive skin. He really was close. Your breaths, panting in synchronicity, mixed together to form a tiny hurricane in the centimeters between your lips. 

"Bitter and sweet, rich and full." He licked his lips and your eyes darted down to the movement of it; slow, swiping along his bottom lip, collecting your lingering taste. "Addictive. I don't think I'll ever get enough of you." He smiled. "You'll rot my teeth right out of my head, you're so sweet." 

And then he kissed you. And God, you let him. His hand found itself cradling the back of your head, and you turned to fully face him. You tasted your own blood on his lips again and it was dizzying. 

This paradox of a man. Feeding off of you, draining you, but you'd never felt so alive before. Here in his arms, you were electrified. The terror of hardly an hour before was now long forgotten- a lifetime away. You found life again in the lips of a man who'd lured you to your near-death. 

Your ruined, bloody shirt slipped off your arms onto the floor. His palms rubbed up your sides as he devoured your mouth, though less literally as he did your blood. His tongue had made its way into your mouth at some point, and yours into his. You fell into a rhythm together, somewhere between tender and desperate. God, your heart was racing, and he could feel it. Every thumping beat rattled his ribcage as if it was his own; as if his dead lump of muscle had come alive again, fed by your crimson drippings. 

Your hands, trembling, fisted themselves in his shirt for a moment, then they fluttered like birds to his neck, pulling him closer against your chest. His shirt was still there. You wanted it gone. 

As if he read your mind, Gaz disconnected your mouths to discard his shirt, also wet with your blood, and tossed it on the floor with yours. He stopped to take you in, his eyes gliding over the ink in your skin, and then froze at your breasts: pierced. 

Gaz moaned. He glanced up at you, waiting for your permission. You answered by grabbing hold of his wrists and guiding them up your sides, to the front and finally onto your tits. He looked as if you'd given him the best gift he'd ever received. 

He squeezed your malleable flesh in his hands, rolling them, massaging them. He lit a spark in your cunt, and when his mouth attached itself to your nipple and sucked, the spark caught fire. You grabbed desperately at the short curls of his hair and whimpered. Gaz took this as encouragement, and nibbled lightly on the bud. You jumped, feeling his sharp canines graze your tit, but it never broke the skin. His tongue twisted around your nipple, and then he moved to the other breast.

The cool air against your spit-wet tit made goosebumps erupt under your skin while Gaz gave the same treatment to your second nipple. There was no hiding it: you were wet. His maroon eyes looked up at you while he sucked and you knew that he knew. 

He abandoned your tits to chase after your mouth again. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you tight to his chest. The kiss was sloppy: wet with spit and tinged with blood. 

Gaz guided you onto your back. The leather couch was cool and soothing to your feverish skin. 

"Let me taste you," Gaz pleaded. His hands left their positions on your tits and glided down your body. You arched your back into them, until they landed on your hips, the tips of his fingers just barely hooking into the waistband of your jeans. "Please- fuck- please I need to taste you."

"I thought you already did," you said, unable to resist a little teasing. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at you. 

"I want. To taste. Your fucking. Pussy." He looked you dead in the eye as he said those words, making sure you understood each syllable. Something misfired in your mind, and you suddenly were unable to speak. This wasn't compulsion, though. This was pure arousal that weighed down your tongue. All you were able to do was hold his gaze and nod. He tisked his tongue at you. 

"Say it, love," he commanded. He kissed your lips again. "Go on, tell me what you want. 

"Taste me," you relented. The corner of his mouth twitched upward. 

"I thought I already did," he threw your words back at you. Two can play at this game, apparently. But you could play it better. You spread your legs for him and arched your hips against his hands. You leaned up and whispered into his ear. 

"Eat my pussy, Gaz." His body shuddered above you. His hands found your button and fly, and he pushed your jeans down your legs until they were stuck around your ankles above your boots. His brows scrunched together in irritation as he struggled with the laces. His eyes glanced up at yours at the sound of a soft giggle escaping your lips. He rolled his eye at you and in a flash, your boots were off and scattered across the floor. He smirked up at you. 

“How did you…?” you began to ask, and his smile grew wider as he rolled your jeans down and off our legs. He kissed his way up from your calves and nipped at the soft fat of your inner thighs. 

“Don’t worry about that right now, love. I’ll answer your questions after I make you cum on my tongue.” You shuddered at the low tone of his words. His eyes scanned over your body, moving down from your eyes to your chest, and finally to your dripping cunt. He lapped at the wet spot on your underwear with closed eyes and moaned into the fabric. He breathed in deeply through his nose, inhaling your musk. He cursed under his breath, already intoxicated on you. 

His hands rubbed up and down your thighs as he licked and lapped at your cunt, teasing you until you whined his name, begging for him to hurry up, to give you more. Finally, he took pity on you and hooked his fingers into your panties and tore them off your body, throwing them into the growing pile of scrapy, ruined fabric on the floor. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, looking down at your glistening pussy. He was mesmerized at the way it glimmered in the flickering firelight. He teased two fingers through your folds and spread them open. He touched you like the pages of a holy book: with reverence and awe. He took his sweet time studying the way your pussy moved under his touch until once again, you had to snap him out of his stupor. He glanced up at you for the briefest second, and then dived in. 

He licked into your lips and moaned aloud, finally getting a taste of your wetness. You whimpered when the tip of his tongue prodded at your clit, and he took notice right away. He licked it again, once, twice, and then latched onto it, determined to pull more of those perfect sounds out of you. He gazed up at you through his eyelashes, and you couldn’t look away. The fire in his eyes sent a fresh wave of pleasure down your spine. And then you felt it: how easily he slipped a finger inside, and you threw your head back in pleasure.

He curled it into you slowly, pressing up inside you at a spot that made your thighs shake. You couldn’t be bothered to keep quiet, and Gaz couldn’t get enough. He added another finger and shuddered at the way your pussy practically sucked his digits inside. He started to build a steady rhythm, gaining speed and intensity with every thrust of his fingers, every lick of his tongue, every suck of his mouth on your clit. 

You could hardly get enough oxygen in your lungs. Your chest almost burned with need, the tips of your fingers started to tingle. Your moans got louder and louder, until your shouts were reverberating off the walls of the study. Your fingers scrambled for something to hold onto, something to steady yourself, and locked onto the curls atop Gaz’s head. His name tumbled from your lips. A prayer, a warning, a plea. You were close, and he knew it. He could tell by the way your walls fluttered and gripped his fingers; by the way your hips bucked against his mouth; by the way your back arched and your thighs twitched. He watched you, studying the way you writhed from him. His cock twitched in his trousers. It was him that had you moaning and coming undone on this couch. 

Your orgasm knocked the wind out of you. A sound that was halfway between a moan and a scream left you as your legs locked around Gaz’s head. You threw your head back, your pussy clamping down on his fingers, and gushing over his forearm; your cum added to the puddle of blood and slick beneath you. He groaned, lapping wildly at you, licking up as much of your taste as he could manage, drinking you up like communion wine. Sparks lit you up inside from your belly up your spine. You writhed against his mouth and hands, grinding your hips against his tongue until it was too much, until you felt like you’d burst. 

He lifted his head and let you catch your breath. He watched you twitch from the aftershocks and sucked his fingers clean of your sticky cum. When you finally opened your eyes, you saw him already looking down at you. He took his cue and crawled up your body, kissing your stomach and chest and finally your mouth. He slipped his tongue past your lips with ease and you moaned at the taste of your own cum. His hand cradled your head and the other wandered up and down your body. He settled himself between your legs and grinded his bulge onto your cunt. 

“Please,” he begged into your mouth. “Please, let me fuck you.” You dragged your nails down his abdomen, scratching the sparse coils of chest hair and the hard muscles on his stomach, past his happy trail and down over his pants to grab his hard cock through the fabric. He moaned lowly. 

“Yes,” you panted. “God, yes.”

---

Tags:

@cherry-slushee @iimfae @newcomernewcums @cowboybxtch @quiurifam @sad--pigeon @desert-fern @grizzers @the-wandering-pan-ace @quiurifam @wasteland-babe @obi-wansorrow @tbrfic @tdurmi @xespresso-depressox @mauveserpent @bloodyknucklesforme @330bpm-whiplash @grizzersmama @amazingpandaz-blog @the-pan-ace-writings @kakashiislut @erinwhelan99 @ghost-2513 @confuseddipshit @avalkyrieofparis @beesucculent @enfppixie @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore @ofmenanduhhhwellmen @lostmypopsicle @backupgal @wisp0329 @boxofgasoline @frazie99 @lothiriel9 @ummmmmbeans @roaringinthedeeap-blog @daristfx @itsberrydreemurstuff @legalpadawan @darkmelodies27 @discowizard88 @gloomdoomraccoon

[atsadi-shenanigans]

What Shall We Become 18 - Discomforted

The rogue is left to his thoughts.

On AO3.

He doesn’t hear her for the rest of the day. For half of the following. He wakes from his reverie and his arms work again. So he sits up as the kuo-toa enter with baskets of more fish. He shudders as he drains them. All darkness and cold and soggy detritus to gobble down, with those. No joy. Barely any spark of life. It’s disgusting.

But still better than a putrid, mushy rat.

When he does catch the sound of far off voices, he realizes she’s forsaken the potion of tongues. She only has another few, he thinks. Likely saving them.

That’s fine. They’ve little to discuss as it is.

She knows. She saw (rather felt) what he did, and came back. Like a fool. Like he was worth all that. And he isn’t providing her a single service. A few Chondathan lessons? Bah. Not that much of an investment. She should have carried on without him. It’s what he would have done. What he thought she was sensible enough to realize.

Or perhaps it’s only his plan succeeding? He needs someone willing to aid him. Shield him. Feed—

And he hasn’t had to sleep with her! He should be thrilled. To have hooked her devotion so easily. It’s a fine bargain, for him.

But he can’t. Because what she’s given him isn’t cheap, and that’s a problem. No one gives things away. Never once in his last two hundred years has he ever…won something. Not like this. And not without paying for it, and paying dearly.

He traces the raised line over his ribs, up over his chest. A steady diet of slimy fish blood should smooth that right off in another day or two, leaving him fresh and unmarred and beautiful. As all his other injuries have done.

Save for two.

His fingers brush up his neck. The punctures there. They feel large. Always have. Two pits in his neck, the edges rough and ragged (he knows he doesn’t leave such marks on his foolish leader; even then, at the beginning, that bastard had wanted to mark him).

But his targets never seem to notice them (at least, not unless that bastard invites them to Astarion knowing what he is, offering them the thrill of bedding a stunning, tamed vampire). He wears high collars, usually lurks in dim corners, goes after those whose wits are already slipping. But he rarely, so very rarely gets to keep those high collars in place. And they never say anything. Not about those marks. Not about his eyes. His pallor. His grave-chilled skin.

Too busy grabbing. Too busy taking. That’s the only explanation he’s ever been able to come up with.

And the other scars…

He can just manage to twist an aching arm around so his fingertips find the lowest lines. That bastard marks what’s his. Usually, his “gift” wipes all traces of previous such attentions, even on Astarion���s paltry diet. Not this one. He’d wanted this one to stay. A whole night’s work, so many revisions. He wanted that poem etched into Astarion’s flesh for all eternity. It had burned terribly when that bastard rubbed the oozing carvings with whatever godsforsaken salt concoction. Packed the tears in Astarion’s skin full, so vampiric healing or no, his body had no choice (never a choice, not in anything) but to lift up into ugly scar tissue.

Astarion will never be rid of it. Just as he’ll never be rid of that bastard—

No. No.

He reflexively shoves that down. Reaches around himself for something else to touch. Warped planks of wood. Scraps of cloth reeking of fish. The cold, metallic scent of aquatic blood.

He’s not in the kennels. Not even in the dorms. Not in that wretched palace and not even in the city. He’s in the Underdark, being nursed by fish pledged to his naive leader and he’s going to milk that for everything it’s worth.

“Hello, you out there!” he says. “I’d like more blood!”

It’s vile, but it’s something.

***

He lays about for another two days. He thinks it’s two days, anyway, judging from his leader’s sleep. She’s rigged up some kind of curtain and shelters in with him while she does that—after turning away most of the kuo-toa and their gracious gifts. The only thing she takes is the fish he’s emptied, and some kind of dried seaweed he can set on fire for her.

It smells atrocious as it burns. And she makes a concession to open the curtain while she does it. But she figures out how to clean and cook the fish, and the noise she makes when she takes her first bite almost does something to him. Reminds him of the very first taste of her own blood hitting his tongue.

She barely speaks. Seems content to grunt and, presumably, gesture at her devoted subjects. She only has three potions left, that he knows of. What she does when she’s not hiding in here with him, he has no idea. Likely hiding elsewhere.

She’s kept up her Chondathan lessons, at least. She threw her ultimatum at him so rudely, and then pretends she did nothing of the sort. So he falls back to patterns he knows, and also pretends she did nothing of the sort. He never cut her loose to die, and she never found out about it and then…forgave him for it.

She’s infuriating. Absolutely infuriating. She doesn’t react to anything like a normal person, and he doesn’t even know if the entirety of her people are just like that, or if she’s the aberrant specimen. That would be his luck.

As his body repairs itself, he repairs his clothing. Which doesn’t take long. Loses time for a while—his usual past time. And then, as she sleeps on their second day, his fingers find cool metal in his pack.

That necklace. They must have taken it off him at some point before hoisting him onto that sacrificial slab. Here it rests, in his pack. So he takes it out.

The links slip through his fingers like water. Jewels cascade down the front, rather like drops of rain. He imagines it’s a pretty thing. He hopes it complements his complexion.

He doesn’t remember actually learning the firebolt cantrip. Has no memory of lessons in a garden or sitting beside a tutor in his children’s short pants.

This one carries a spell upon it. That, he can tell. Beyond that…? He might as well be fumbling about in the dark, without sight, in the vast, echoing Underdark.

He drops the necklace into his pack.

Eventually she wakes. Greets him in Chondathan. Heads out to do…whatever it is she does.

She just chose to come back. If Astarion weren’t always on the precipice of starvation, he would consider vomiting out of sheer disgust. One doesn’t just choose to overlook a wrong like that. He used to be a magistrate, by the hells. There must be a punishment. There has to be.

Yet she just, just…forfeited it. Let him leave her and not only didn’t cast him aside, but came searching for him and then murdered what he now suspects was a redcap to save him. The absolute audacity. She can’t simply do things like that. She can’t make those decisions. No one else would. No one else ever has.

Mistakes are punished. Corrected. A wrong can only be made right when the perpetrator pays for it (through gold or flesh). She’s insane, is what she is. Rattled in the skull. An idiot.

Yet the fish obey her as a god, and the tent flap lifts as their reek washes over him. In they trundle, finned feet slapping against old wood, to lay yet another basket of flapping, gasping, dying fish at his side.

…and he still tastes the ghost of her blood. Can still sense it, out there in the dark. He left her to rot and she still guided him and talked to him and accepted his gifts. She knew the entire time. And still slept in his tent and loaned her staff and entertained him with lurid stories. She helped him escape the, whatever in the hells a “birdshark” is, and whatever rules a quake abides by.

She gave him her blood. Knowing all the while.

He’s been waiting for the other shoe to drop. It must. It always does.

Yet…yet this one. This one doesn’t seem inclined to budge. And he has absolutely no idea what to do with that.

[barrenclan]

ok so for the next music post, two things:

1. i was thinking of “moon song” by phoebe bridgers for unrelated reasons & the very last lyric of the song jumped out at me for rainhaze. the rest of the song isn’t very fitting for him but the last two lines are so fucking perfect:

when you saw the dead little bird, you started crying

but you know the killer doesn’t understand

2. so this next song is actually by a friend of mine! she’s a local musician & the other night i got to see her perform at my favorite bar for the last time before she moves to another state. this is my favorite song off of her debut album that came out last year (which she did perform at the show; i had chills the whole time), & i started thinking about it after the latest issue (& after going back & rereading the whole story just for funsies) & lowkey wanting to make an animatic about defiance with it:

https://youtu.be/I882BJu2bTo?si=W94BMnB6SjMM2sSK

Honestly, I could kind of see the rest of the lyrics of "Moon Song" for Rainhaze too, of him talking about his one-sided relationship to Ranger. Though I still don't really see his feeling as romantic rather than just trusting.

And, it's so sweet to recommend a song your friend made! I really like it. If you ever made an animatic, I'd be thrilled to see it.

Oh, yeah, I like the line "heartbreak was never so loud" for representing the weight of Slugpelt's revelation.

Everything, waiting, shaking as it drops I tried for you and I, for too hard, for too long Gave it all and everything for more time, but I lost

… Ooh, I'm breaking down Whispers would deafen me now You don't make a sound Heartbreak was never so loud

Defiance is always great for screamy, angry song about bones and blood and stuff.

I think it could fit for Rainhaze's early days and induction in Defiance, coping with this new environment.

Look at this poor boy All dressed up in white Now how can he smile With a face of all eyes?

These creatures are vampires They're killing by the night They're falling from the dead trees To silhouette your life

It doesn't seem like anyone has! I like the lines about him traveling past reason, because he did move past any real ideology into just fear and desperation.

I will travel far beyond the path of reason Take me back to Eden, take me back to Eden

I guess it goes to show, does it not? That we've no idea what we've got until we lose it And no amount of love will keep it around If we don't choose it And I don't know what's got its teeth in me But I'm about to bite back in anger No amount of self-sought fury Will bring back the glory of innocence <- shit yeah dude that's him

I like all songs that talk about the Devil as a smooth-talking, friendly charismatic guy because they all remind me of Deepdark.

Turn on the television Don't gotta think for nothing I pay the cable bill monthly, so they can do it for me

They say the Devil looks like you I hear the Devil's an American They say, they say he's a real smooth talker Real put together

I LOVE this song! Super good with him.

You're no good, you're no good You could kill me and you should I'm an idiot for thinking This was anything but blood

On the wall, on the couch On the corner of my mouth You must like being the victim You've done nothing to get out Of this pattern of pain Washed away by the rain You'll forgive me if I promise And do nothing but the same <- like this is just the first verse

Oh I think I have been suggested this one before! I still like it.

Gritty underground rock bands are great for this comic.

No rest for the sinner Hypnos refused me my sleep This was the last night of my life With wine, I pondered on my deeds

Ring brother, ring for me Ring the bells of hope and faith Ring for my damnation I am at the gallow's end

[mechahero]

Ideas List!

Not quite a wishlist because I'm not really wishing super hard for any of this to happen, but it would be a neat thing to use as a prompt in general. Just neat little things to do, you know?

Bumping into each other during one of Motor City's frequent "apocalypse" events. (Be it of the vampire, werewolf, or zombie variety) It can go a few ways, two could involve being escorted to a safe zone and having to deal with the danger that comes with that or being immune to help fight through it and get the undead back on track and knock them out of their blood drinking/flesh eating stupor.

Take him out of his element. (Say into space? Maybe?) Fun (and maybe not so fun and dangerous) adventures in space. Surely he won't die out there. Surely.

Adding on: it doesn't just have to be out in space. It can be smaller situations. Drag him out to a party full of people that won't kick him for sneaking in to steal from their snack table. Hell, not even a party, anywhere. Chilling hours more or less. Or at least trying to.

Sparring threads! Yes, he does tend to fight tooth and nail on here and will often avoid fighting without a reason (at least when it comes to sparring) but what if he gets put into an environment where he has to deal with a more "relaxed" form of fighting? Also, it'd be fun to see about what kind of hang-ups he has to deal with in regards to that.

Monster of the week shenanigans. Or better yet, weird shit in general happening and both of our muses are more or less dealing with it or trying to figure out how to solve it. Because you know, a building gaining sentience and dissolving people isn't a thing you want hanging around, you know?

[xerofresh]

🔥 SILVERSTREAKSHIPPING WEEK 🍙

🍙 DAY 3: ALTERNATE UNIVERSE 🔥

Yeah, vampire x vampire hunter au lets go.

Lore time! Larry was turned into a vampire when he was young and found out how to integrate with society easily, even getting a job at the league. But one day (I’m not sure how yet) he accidentally spreads a vampiric epidemic and turns Paldea into a high-alert modern-victorian hellhole. The league finds out he's a vampire because of this, so he runs away and secludes himself to not hurt anyone else, but the damage has already been done. The league closes off the league building because it's contaminated, Larry sees this and just moves back in and turns it into a combo league building and Victorian castle. For years they have had to fight off vampire spawn and they need reinforcements, so Kabu volunteers and moves to Paldea to help. Then a few missions later he stumbles across Larry chilling somewhere by Medali not hunting or anything. Again, I don't know exactly what happens after that but there are a lot of very gay feelings between them and they are both confused as to why.

Alright now that's over, I modified vampires a little bit so stick with me.

Vampires are not limited to humans for blood! They can drink the blood of any warm-blooded creature, mainly mammals, like a Chupacabra. They can also eat berries because fruitbats (humans still taste the best though)

There are vampire spawns and then true vampires. True vampires are what Larry is, typical Hollywood vampires. Vampire spawns are more like animals, they don't have much cognitive thought other than animalistic desires and following their leader, Larry. They're kind of like dogs in the sense that they can be trained to do tasks and stuff. Dogs with rabies.

Vampires are killed/repelled by the typical things, sunlight, garlic, wooden stakes, and decapitation. Some things I've changed are one, vampires can only be damaged in combat by the stakes or silver weapons; two, crosses and holy water do nothing, it's just an outdated legend. Most people don't know this because when they do use it, they're just startled and/or confused so they're vulnerable, people: three, vampires can only be burned by the magical fire from Pokèmon, no man or nature-made fires can hurt vampires; four, I will not be implementing the rule that vampires can only attack you if you invite them into your house, but I will implement the scattering of seeds or grain to distract vampires. Some stories say if you scatter seeds, vampires are compelled to count them. This only applies to Larry though since vampire spawns don't have the cognitive ability to count, and it is just the autistic Larry thing to do; and five, only vampire spawns are affected by sunlight. I only really did this so there's a sense of suspense even though the league knows who the vampire is. The general public doesn't know because the league is bad at communicating.

All vampires can turn into bats (or bat Pokèmon idk) Larry can stay in his bat form for much longer.

When a true vampire settles somewhere, vampire spawns are drawn to the location and it serves as a home base. Some vampires are lone wolves (or bats in this case) but most serve under Larry.

Alright, now for some other character tidbits!

Larry is a bit lazier in this au. After he finishes redecorating he doesn't need to do anything because if he wanted food he could just get one of his servants to fetch someone. If Larry does have the rare urge to hunt somewhere, it’s mainly by Medali for the nostalgia and good options, or Cortando since it’s the closest (other than Mesagoza but he has standards he's not killing kids)

Larry cultivates a berry orchard in front of his castle when he doesn't want blood that day. It’s also kind of a maze to get through and only Larry and any spawns that help in the orchard know the paths to get through.

Larry is still a foodie and knows exactly which berries and what blood types work together.

Larry has named every single one of his servants. He has them all written down just in case he forgets.

Kabu is a very skilled vampire hunter, stories of vampires started in Europe after all. With his athleticism and powerful fire Pokèmon he is well-known by hunters worldwide. Any fire type trainer is a danger to vampires with their Pokèmon, but a fire type vampire hunter is a whole new ball game.

Kabu’s a bit more serious and jaded, but he still has that fiery passion that he's known for, it doesn't really show while he's hunting because it’s not really his favorite thing to do you know? It more shows when he's training and battling with his Pokèmon like canon Kabu.

So yeah uh cool gay vampire stuff! We love to see it.

[desertfangs]

I might be a little late here on the question prompts so no pressure but:

“ where have you been? ” - Marius/Daniel?

I am not doing these in order, but I am trying to do all of them! Also this one got a little smutty. Vampire smutty, but still. About 1300 words.

“Where have you been?” Marius demands. He’s at the door of his apartment before Daniel can even get it open. 

Daniel blinks at him. “In Paris, with Lestat. I texted you.” 

“You did not,” Marius says, anger flaring. His blond hair is loose and wild around his handsome face and his blue eyes are intense as they bore into Daniel like a laser. “Nor did you return any of my texts.” 

Daniel frowns at his phone. The screen is black and none of the buttons he presses bring it back to life. It was low on battery when he left—he’d forgotten to plug it in before bed yesterday—but he hadn’t realized it had died. He walks through the rooms that make up Marius’ space here at the Chateau, big and elegantly furnished, and heads into the bedroom, Marius on his heels.

“You can’t go off without telling me!” Marius is not quite yelling but he’s on the verge of it. 

“I did tell you,” Daniel protests. He plugs his phone and a little dead battery icon flashes on the screen, along with the charging symbol.

When the screen finally loads, Daniel pulls up his text messages and sees that the text he tried to send while Lestat was whisking him through the air did not actually send. And the failed text is followed by over a dozen new texts from Marius demanding to know his whereabouts. He shows Marius the screen, abashed. “Guess it didn’t go through. I tried.” 

“That’s not good enough,” Marius says. “It’s irresponsible! I need to know where you are all at times!” The last line does come out as a yell and irritation pricks at Daniel. 

“I’m not a child. If I want to go hang out with a friend—” 

“Lestat is the Prince and he has duties to fulfill!” 

Daniel glares at Marius, whose arms are folded over his chest, fury radiating off him in waves. “Jesus Christ, is that what you’re mad about? That I took Lestat away from work?” 

Marius turns away. “I didn’t know you were with him. Though I suppose I should have guessed when the two of you vanished at the same time.” 

Daniel runs his fingers through his hair, tugging at the short blond strands. “You need to chill out. We just went hunting together.” He drops his arm to his side and lowers his voice. “We weren’t even gone that long.”

Marius sighs. “I had no idea where you were. If you’d wandered off, if you were lost…” 

The word ‘lost’ sends uneasiness worming through Daniel. 

“I’m fine.” Daniel taps his temple. “You know I am.” 

Marius doesn’t answer, which makes Daniel’s nerves burn. The idea that Marius might have thought he had some kind of relapse is harrowing and frightening. Daniel has been better for years now and though sometimes he himself fears the darkness overtaking him again, he wants to believe he’s healed. 

“I worry,” Marius says, voice soft.

Daniel laughs, ignoring the way Marius narrows his eyes. “Understandment of the year, old man.” 

Marius drops his arms and his face softens slightly. “I have good reasons.” 

Daniel sighs, annoyed that it’s true. “I know.”

“Not just about your mental state.” Marius steps closer and strokes Daniel’s cheek with his long, pale fingers. “There are enemies who would move against members of this Court. We all need to be cautious and none of us should be running off alone without telling a soul.” 

“I wasn’t alone,” Daniel points out. 

“No, but Lestat ditched Cyril and Thorne as well. Everyone was up in arms about that. Even he shouldn’t be so careless.”

“Nothing can hurt Lestat,” Daniel says. 

Marius is silent, his jaw tight. 

Daniel puts his arms around Marius’ shoulders and leans in close. He presses his lips to Marius’ mouth and it yields as he kisses him. His tongue is hot from the blood he’s drunk and Marius’ mouth is cool. The contrast of their temperatures sends tingles down Daniel’s spine. His hand slides up, cupping Marius’ face, pulling him closer. Marius kisses him back fiercely and then trails little kisses down his chin and neck, up and down his throat on both sides, his lips feather light and leaving little impressions on Daniel’s immortal skin.

Then Marius pulls back and meets his eyes. “You can distract me all you want but you still need to check in when you leave the Chateau.” 

Daniel rolls his eyes but he knows beneath the nagging and anger, Marius was scared. It’s fear that makes him demand such constant updates of his nightly actions, fear that makes him send so many texts even as they go unanswered. Fear that causes him to yell and rant about Daniel being careless. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Daniel says. “I’ll make sure my phone is charged next time. And that the damned text message actually sends.” He presses his forehead to Marius and their noses touch, which makes him tingle again. He wants Marius’ lips back, wants his fangs in his throat. 

“Yes, you will,” Marius murmurs. He’s already kissing Daniel again, unable to resist the heat of his blood-warmed skin against his cool lips. Marius pulls back and tears off Daniel’s sweatshirt and the t-shirt beneath, tossing them aside. 

His eagerness makes Daniel’s pulse race. Marius kisses his neck again and this time, his fangs sink through Daniel’s flesh, piercing his throat. He gasps at the sharp pain. Then he closes his eyes as his blood floods into Marius’ mouth, hot and rich and stolen from some Parisian bastard just hours ago. The movement of Marius’ lips as he drinks is as intoxicating as the swoon that comes over him. Marius’ heart hammers against his. 

Daniel rubs Marius’ shoulder encouragingly, eyes flitting open and closed as the world fades and he sees Marius standing at an easel, filling a canvas with blood red flowers. Everything is red. His heart slams into his ribs matching the rhythm of Marius’ heart. He breathes heavily, the feeling of Marius against him steady and strong even as he draws the blood from his veins. The pressure builds and his heart resists the pull, fighting back, tugging against Marius as he drinks. 

He thinks his heart might explode when Marius finally releases him. Then his mouth finds Daniel’s again. His tongue is coated in blood and the kiss tastes of iron and copper and heat. When they finally part, Daniel smiles at him. “You know, if this is your way of teaching me a lesson, I’ll never learn.” 

Marius smacks him playfully on the shoulder. “Next time I’ll resist your temptations. Perhaps that will be more effective.”  

Daniel shakes his head. He sits down on the bed, his heart slowly returning to normal. Marius heads for the door. 

“Where are you going?” Daniel asks.

“To have words with Lestat,” Marius says. 

“Lucky him,” Daniel mutters as Marius retreats. 

Daniel picks up his phone and scrolls through the increasingly panicked texts sent by Marius. He wonders what kind of lecture Lestat will get, and is almost tempted to go see, but he doesn’t want to be dragged into whatever argument might ensue, so he fires up Plants vs. Zombies on his phone instead.

[inexplicablepeas]

So I realized that I never shared my Blood & Gold re-read thoughts due to shadow-ban issues on the old blog, thoughts under the cut! It's long!

It was interesting to read this immediately after TVA, it really highlighted Anne's talent for developing distinct voices for her characters as the two books are so different in structure and voice. Where TVA is fevered and rambling with tonnes of evocative metaphor this is logically ordered and somewhat detached. This has none of Lestat's conspiratorial chumminess interspersed with catastrophic existential crises, none of Louis' melancholy poeticism, we're just getting straight facts from Mr Marius . So Marius' voice is a bit drier than a lot of the other narrators in the chronicles but that does feel correct and it gives the book a bit of a cosier and more chill vibe than most of the other entries. It's like story time with Marius. 

It's interesting that this one isn't framed as a book being written for publication but as a quiet and private conversation between a lonely guy and a stranger who showed up on his door step happy to listen to him. I think that makes sense for Marius, he doesn't seem like he would publish his life story, he's too private and he would probably have been more tactful land less honest about certain things if it was for publication - less interesting for us!

You do still have to read a lot of his inner journey between the lines nonetheless. He's not really telling you how he was doing day to day after he abandoned Pandora entirely (following an argument about how to deal with the emerging cult of satan worshippers) then spent centuries in Rome pretending he wasn't dying for Avicus' (and Mael's?) company while letting partying mortals have run of his house as he painted the walls subconsciously with dozens of Pandora faces... but you can imagine, he's probably not feeling great!

It was fascinating to get more detail on how he was recruited to be keeper of the parents and to see his tense arms-length relationship with Mael play out over the years. Eudoxia is a great addition to the story as brief as her time in it is and getting his version of Armand's story is very welcome (and of course interesting to contrast with Armand's telling). Getting more Bianca was also welcome, she's such a big presence in TVA, I liked getting Marius' perspective there. 

I've got some of the same kind of complaints I had with TVA about what was left out. I guess that structuring a life story that spans millenia is no easy task and it's inevitable that some stuff is gonna get left out. Anne probably didn't want to rehash the same events form different perspectives over and over again but I really was disappointed that the narrative doesn't touch on his thoughts on his reunion with Armand in QotD, the brief Night Island coven times, how Daniel came to be in his care (???), his reaction to Armand's suicide attempt (!?), how was it that he and Santino ended up being the team on clean up duty together for that anyway (???), his reaction to learning that Armand was in fact alive(!) and his subsequent turning of Benji and Sybelle.

Marius:

And Pandora of course, I hadn't read her book at the time of reading this so I was disappointed about how little detail we get on the centuries they spent together. You can imagine his motivations for leaving a lot of this stuff out, it seems that some things are still too painful to talk about and he is also telling a specific story to a specific audience here (to influence a particular outcome, perhaps? *squints suspiciously at Marius*) so it makes sense for him to brush over or leave some things out entirely but it's not always the most satisfying result for a reader that's already invested in these characters and their stories.

The framing device with Thorne is great, I can't emphasize enough how immediately I fell in love with this guy, this stoic but sensitive viking titan of a vampire. I found the final chapter to be the most exciting really, I guess because where most of the story is Marius explaining from his perspective why he's alone (apart from Daniel who doesn't count because he's too obsessed with his model cities, sorry Daniel!), it's all a foregone conclusion where we're heading and we know what happens to most of the major characters but once we get back to Thorne's contemporary POV hey, anything can happen! And thanks to Thorne, stuff does happen! He's kind of the MVP of this book. We also get a teeny bit of Daniel in the framing chapters at the start of the book and hey, it's nice to see him alive and still sassy, if a little worse for wear.

Overall I find it a pretty enjoyable vampire chronicle. I do love the lore of Anne's vampire universe, how rich it is both with historical details and with her own world building and Marius is, of course, very key to it as guardian of the parents for millennia, so I do want to know everything about him and I'm glad this book was written to give us more of his story. His chronicle of his very lonely life, caused in no small part by his own stubbornness and terror of losing control is sad and often frustrating but I did find all of it a compelling read. He's a very strange guy and it really is fascinating to get more of his perspective, even if he doesn't quite have the zazz of a Lestat or the poetry of a Louis.

[cto10121]

Bella and Edward Are (Barely) Two Different People

Fresh from my Midnight Sun rereading, the parallels and similarities between these two just. stood out like a sore thumb. So without further ado, here are the receipts:

Bella being afraid of seeing Edward and Edward being afraid of seeing Bella for an entirely different reason

Edward being disgruntled about Forks and high school and high key thinks he is better than this. Bella being disgruntled about Forks and high school and high key thinks she is better than this.

Both are meh about anyone human. Except Angela. Angela is cool and kind and honest. Ben is too. They’re nice

Rosalie: *exists* Bella and Edward: 😬 🤢 😡 and eventually 🤝

Bella wants to pair Mike and Jessica, tries, and succeeds. Edward wants to pair Angela and Ben, tries, and succeeds. They should open a matchmaking agency methinks

Bella winks. Edward winks. Wink wink

Bella calls Edward her Romeo like the dramatic classic lit nerd she is. Edward calls Bella his Persephone like the dramatic classic lit nerd he is

Edward loves speed, Bella quickly develops a liking for Edward running, motorcycles speed

Tanya and Mike: *exist* Bella and Edward: 😡😭😡😩😡🥺😡

Both go from Debussy to…this? (Linkin Park)

Edward’s favorite color quickly changing to brown and Bella’s quickly changing to topaz. Eye color is clearly a big deal

Bella is mother in a depressingly parentified way. Edward is mother in a Latina mom-coded way

They’re okay-looking at best and ugly at worst…except that most everyone gawks and wants to date them and thinks dirty thoughts about them. But that means nothing, that’s because they’re new to town/an alluring vampire. It’s probably not because people think they’re genuinely hot, lol

Speaking of which, what does Bella see in Edward and Edward see in Bella?! Can they believe that their love would really want to be with them? Isn’t that just amazing? Isn’t that some inscrutable and unfathomable miracle of the universe?!!!

Edward thinks he’s a monster for being a vampire (understandable). Bella thinks she’s a monster for briefly cheating on Edward with Jacob (also understandable). Both should fucking chill

Bella “I’m Switzerland” 🤝 Edward “An obsessed vampire stalker”

Bella has her useful mind shield and Edward his mind reading. It’s like mirrors except the inverse

Bella forgives Edward for everything leaving her dead inside with a figurative gaping hole in her chest. Edward forgives Bella for everything cheating on him with Jacob and just loving Jacob in general. Very forgiving people

Edward is in her books, Bella is in the stars of the night sky. Bella is the girl and Edward is him. If they are together, it is heaven. This is to say, both cannot and do not chill

Edward: “Soft perfection” 🤝 Bella: “Perfect”

Bella cannot function without Edward. Edward cannot function without Bella. Romeo and Juliet quietly prepare a lawsuit. There can be room for only one epic literary het couple fucked over by love and this cursed heteropatriarchal Christofascist life. And it ain’t the vampire and his favorite blood bag