#vampire!jason

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Blood Bag

DC vs. Vampires AU, but The Vampire King won. ~3.2k words

There's no warning, no notice for an apocalypse. There wasn't any preamble, when vampires established a new order to the world.

Jason, your Jason, had only whispered the basics as he held you to his chest. Had only told you he has to try and stop their leader, that if you knew anymore, it would be dangerous.

You knew being Red Hood was risky, but you had hoped, as you watched him leave your apartment, that he would be safe. That his family would protect him where you couldn't.

You waited for him to come back to you. To come back with the world saved and him unharmed.

He doesn't.

The world ends. It was quick, bloody, and ruthless. The world ends, and something new rose from the gore and destruction left in its wake. A new world begins, one led by The Vampire King, who reigns over it with sharpened claws and even sharper fangs.

The lucky ones got to continue with their lives, struggle to adapt to the new normal, their new rulers. The really lucky ones, the ones who were already powerful and godly, got changed into something unkillable.

The unlucky ones, you, got chosen for a far worse fate. Blood Bag. Vampires and humans alike spit it like a slur, like you're something less all because the bite marks that litter your skin. As if any one of you were given a choice.

You hadn't asked to be taken to the castle fortress that the Vampire nobility called home.

You had been in your apartment, watching the world fall apart from the safety of your home. Watching in a dazed horror as Dick Grayson's signature smile, now adorned with pearly fangs, flashed across the news, when he just appeared in front of you.

You'd said his name, jumped to your feet to touch him– to hug him, grateful he was safe and alive.

But he'd stopped you. Said he wasn't Jason anymore. Said he was just Red Hood now. It didn't make sense at the time.

Jason was Red Hood, and Red Hood was Jason. You didn't realize how wrong you were until you ended up kneeling alongside other humans in front of The Vampire King.

He had given a lavish speech about your new place in the world. That the humans staring up at him in fear and awe were special. Chosen to serve in his court. That being a Blood Bag was an honor and a privilege.

You might have believed it if they hadn't dragged you to the dungeons after.

You were left there, cold, confused, and hungry for almost a week. Your cell mates come and go, but the ones that return always come back with their skin covered in deep, telltale puncture wounds.

They whisper stories of the grand parties, the growing crowds of spawns, the brutality of The Vampire King, and his court.

You wait for your turn, and wonder if maybe when you are chosen, you'll be one of the prisoners that don't come back.

You don't get any warning, when it's your time. Two spawns with sunken eyes drag you from your sleep, hauling you from the dungeon and across marble floors.

They taunt you, proclaiming that you're a gift for The General. That you'll make a fine pet, a good blood bag, if he manages not to kill you tonight.

A part of you wants to scream. To cry. To beg. To hope as you have every night since Jason brought you here, that he'd come back for you. But your hope runs out as they force you into a lavish bedroom.

Two new spawns take over from the guards, they wash you, dress you, and soon enough, you almost look like you haven't spent a week in a cell. They leave you sitting on the soft bed and an order to not disappoint.

A part of you wants to use the moment, to seize the opportunity to escape. But you're so tired. So hungry. So thirsty. And the bed is so comfortable. But whatever comes next for you could be worse than that cell.

The door swings open, and you jolt from your thoughts. You're expecting someone fearsome. Someone terrible and evil and threatening. But it's Jason.

You think he's going to free you, save you. You believe it wholeheartedly. Until you see the glint of his fangs.

He steps towards you, eyes focused and dark, and you realize who The General is. You realize what he's going to do.

The first time Red Hood feeds from you, you feel nothing but pain. It's agonizing, to feel your life being dragged out of you and drank down by someone who could so easily kill you.

There's no ceremony. He sinks his fangs into your throat and leaves you exhausted and dazed on the bed while crimson drips haphazardly down his chin.

The second time isn't any easier, he only takes what he needs. His fingers don't brush over your skin to soothe you. He doesn't speak a word of comfort. He only presses gauze to the bite wound before leaving you to recover alone.

The third time is different. He lingers when he's done. You might be crying. You're too tired and dizzy to be sure.

But you're not so far gone that you don't notice the way he presses a kiss to the puncture marks. Like it's a twisted apology.

His hand traces lines over your back. He holds you close, even after he's done draining the blood from your veins.

The way he feeds from you changes after that. He treats you like you're precious. He presses kisses to your skin before he bites.

He licks away the trails of blood and tears. He presses his face to your pulse and doesn't move until your heart finds a steady pace.

He still doesn't speak. He hasn't since he told you he's not Jason anymore, but he hovers when he's done. He brushes his fingers along your jaw, watches you as you fall asleep.

It's not until you're brave enough to leave the room that you learn your status as Red Hood's Blood Bag has privileges.

It turns out the bedroom you've constantly been left alone in is yours. You can wander most of the castle and its gardens freely. No one else tries to feed from you.

But it doesn't stop the taunts and jeers. Doesn't stop the spawns or the high-ranking nobles or human servants alike from spitting curses at you.

But no one touches you. No one seems to want to earn Red Hoods, and in turn, The Kings, ire.

You hadn't realized the protection that his marks had offered you.

Not until you started to hear the whispers that followed you, the murmurs that warned of sinking their teeth into the only Blood Bag Red Hood seems interested in. How any bites or scratches not his would be a death sentence.

The months of faded scars that mark your skin serve as a warning to them. But to you, they're a stark reminder of the new world you're forced to navigate.

They become memories, in a way, of the mistakes you've made.

The bite on your palm marks the day you spoke to another Blood Bag out of turn. You can't forget the panic that sparked in their eyes as a spawn dragged them away. (You haven't seen them since)

The bite on your shoulder marks the night you tried to run. You had barely made it to the garden walls when Red Hood had lazily appeared at your side. It didn't take words to know he'd been aware of the moment you left your room.

Mistake after mistake, bite after bite, create a sick patchwork of art over your skin.

You try to cover the ones you can see, for your own piece of mind, but the extravagant outfit you're wearing now? The one that's been picked out for tonight's ball? Does little to hide exactly what you are.

It's rare for you to make an appearance at any of the Vampire Kings events, and the times you have gone have been incredibly short and spent entirely at Red Hood's side.

But the chatter that floats about you in the ballroom suggests The Vampire King had expected your presence. Each snide smile and quiet laugh sends a chill down your spine.

You'd expected this night at court to be like any other, one or two dances, and then a quick return to your room.

You're proven wrong when Red Hood is pulled from your side at the request of The King.

You're not completely sure how long you've been left waiting at the edge of the grand dance floor, but it's been long enough that your feet ache, and your shoulders feel tight.

Long enough that you don't think twice to slip out of the loud, music filled room and into the darker, quieter halls.

It's another mistake.

A spawn, drunk on blood and his own immortality saunters into your path. "A pest," he drawls, eyes eerily fixed on the juncture of your neck, "a pretty pest, but a pest nonetheless."

You offer a customary nod, safe under the illusion of safety the marks scattered over your body brings.

The spawn shatters the illusion when he snatches your hand with supernatural grace, "Be still, pest, I thirst."

"You can't," You protest quickly, the words spilling before you can think on them.

He pauses, head tilting in a mockery of interest, "and why ever not?"

"I'm–," You start, then pause, saying it aloud feels too real. "I'm Red Hood's," You finish, voice weaker than you mean it to be.

The spawn drags his claw over the palm of your hand, laughing as the drops of blood begin to form in a line of ruby dots, "You? Pretty pest. Not even the lowest of us would want to keep a Blood Bag that's been shared by so many."

"I haven't been–" You breathe out, but his claws only dig deeper into your skin, turning your words into a wince.

You don't tear up, don't cry or beg. It hurts. It always does. Even the idea of being fed on hurts. But your next thought keeps you quiet.

Maybe this spawn will lose control. Maybe, in a way, you can finally be free. The thought makes your heart rate spike, and you're not sure if it's in fear or anticipation. You're not sure if death is something you're ready to face.

He doesn't give you a moment more to think on it. The spawn pulls your palm to his mouth, fangs glinting as he prepares to bite down.

He doesn't get the chance.

A flash of red catches your eyes, and suddenly, your wrist is no longer restrained.

Your mind can't quite keep up with what just happened, and by the time you've even registered his presence, Red Hood has his claws buried in the spawns chest.

If the sight of blood wasn't something so common in The Vampire Kings court, you would be sick. It's messy, loud, when Red Hood rips the spawns unbeating heart from his chest.

You stumble to lean against the wall, when Jason tears the spawns head from his body and crushes it beneath his boot. You don't get a good look at what's left before Jason is in front of you, blocking your view.

He grabs your wrist and presses you flush to the wall. He offers you no warning before his tongue traces the line of blood on your skin.

It's something you should be used to, but you still make a noise of surprise, still instinctively try to pull away.

Jason only shoves a leg between your thighs, trapping you between his body and the wall behind you. His grip on your wrist tightens, and his head bends down again. His gaze doesn't stray from yours, almost like he wants you to watch.

Jason slowly licks at the cut again, then drags his fangs down your hand and to your wrist. He never blinks as he bites into your skin, adding another mark among the many others that cover your skin.

He drops your wrist and steps back once he's had his fill, "You were letting him feed from you. No one else feeds on you. Haven't I made that more than clear?"

"It's not my fault," You protest weakly, "He didn't believe me when I said I was–"

"That you were what," he asks, voice low and almost threatening. You find that entirely unfair, considering you're the only that almost had their life drained.

"That they're yours," a happy voice supplies with a chirp, "Maybe it's time you did something to show that, don't you think, Little Wing?"

You immediately drop your head at the sight of the Vampire King leaning against the wall. You can't help but think, by the cocky grin growing on his face, that he witnessed the entire thing.

Red Hood scoffs, like the idea is ridiculous, "They're covered in my bites. What else could they need? That idiot should have known–"

"But they didn't," The King supplies with a smile and walks over to you to lift your chin with a sigh, "and your little pet could have died for it."

Red Hood stiffens, and you can feel the tension growing in the corridor. He shoots a glance towards the decapitated spawn, as if he's considering removing the rest of their bones piece by bloody piece. "So what do you suggest," he finally asks, voice low and measured.

If you didn't know better, you'd think he was on the verge of ripping you away from the Vampire Kings clutches.

The King only shrugs in return, "You should have shown them off more. Taken them to court. Feed from them during parties."

Red Hood goes to speak, but The King continues to talk as he tilts your chin back and forth, "Blood Bags are symbols, after all. Power. But you've always kept the things you like tucked close to your chest. Haven't you, Little Wing?"

"I don't– I don't like them. I just don't want some spawn watching me eat," Red Hood counters, and neither you nor Dick miss the way his fingers twitch towards you.

The Vampire King nods sagely, "Then I suppose you won't be interested in keeping them."

Red Hoods head snaps up in the same instant the Vampire King spins you around, his fangs catching the skin above your pulse, "And if you're not interested in a Blood Bag," he drawls, voice low and lazily as he trails off, leaving the implications of his threat in the air.

It leaves you wide eyed and frozen. The Vampire King presses closer to your back, drawing you by your hips as his free hand curls around your neck. His fangs don't quite break your skin, but the cold promise of them doesn't waver.

The ball hadn't scared you in this way. The spawn hadn't left you with tears filling your eyes, terror tightening your throat. Not even the dungeons had made dread fill every cell of your body.

Jason drops to his knees, any facade, any lie he had been trying to maintain disappears, "I want them. I want them. Please–"

The Vampire King laughs, and his fangs leave your throat. He shoves you, and you stumble to the ground into Jason's waiting arms. He keeps you caged tightly to his chest, his hand cradling the back of your head.

"I was only teasing, general, truly, you're the only member of my court who's proven time and time again you're deserving of your status," The King drawls.

You can't see him as Jason keeps your face pressed to his shoulder, but you can hear the sick glee building in his voice.

Jason tenses as Dick continues, satisfaction dripping from his tone, "The resistance camp you personally slaughtered? The leader's head left on spikes? I couldn't have done it better myself."

"I'm– I'm honored to have impressed you," Jason says steadily, fingers digging into your skin. You think if he still had a heart, it would be beating just as fast as yours.

The Vampire King hums in response, as if he's suddenly grown bored, "Go enjoy the gala, Little Wing. Remind the raff who you are. And what that makes them."

Jason doesn't argue, just hauls you towards your feet and drags you towards the ball. You keep your gaze lowered, but you can still see him checking over his shoulder, as if he's worried the Vampire King will change his mind.

"What he said– about a resistance–" You begin to ask, desperate for knowledge, but more desperate to finally hear his voice again.

"Don't. They won't win," he answers sharply, not giving you a chance to ask more questions as he pulls you into the ballroom, and drags you to the dance floor.

He doesn't let you find your footing before he's spinning you around the dance floor, arm hooked firmly around your waist.

You try to ignore the remnants of blood, his boots leave on the sparkling floor.

Every cell in your body screams at you to talk again, to demand answers. To know how he ended up like this. To know why all he seems to leave you with now are questions and scars.

You open your mouth to ask, throwing whatever decorum you should have in front of The Vampire Kings court to the wind, when Jason drops you into a dip.

Your breath hitches, and his lips find your pulse.

The sounds of the ball seem to fade around you as you stare up at the decorative ceiling lined with mirrors and gold.

He kisses down your throat, curls his hand tighter into your back and all you can think about is how odd it is, to know the room is so full and yet there's nearly no reflections in the mirrors above.

Jason runs the tip of his nose back up your neck, following the veins under your skin.

"You've always smelled so good," he murmurs. It's the only warning he gets before he sinks his teeth into your throat, drinking you down in the center of the ballroom for everyone to see.

It draws a whimper from your lips, and it only seems to encourage him to hold you tighter, to lick every trail of blood that spills from the marks on your neck.

He kisses the punctures his fangs left when he's done. It feels less like an apology this time, and more of a claim.

When he finally lifts you from the dip, when you're finally able to steady your vision even as it threatens to swim, he shows you his teeth, and his lips are dyed in the color of your blood.

"Brava," the distinctive voice of The Vampire King breaks through your hazy mind. Your eyes never leave Jason's, even as clapping begins to sound throughout the ballroom.

You're not sure what it means. You're not sure if The Vampire Kings' interest in you is just some passing folly.

But Jason's eyes are dark, intense, and they flicker with the weight of knowing. But there's more to it than knowing. It's clear in the way his eyes never yours either. There's a desire, a want, a need to keep.

To make it an unshakable truth, that whatever role you're meant to play in The Vampire Kings world, you're going to do it at Jason's side.

His eyes hold a promise, and he seals it with a bloody kiss to your pounding pulse.

A Side Story

[wondersimp]

Red Fangs

Synopsis: The Red Hood can't be around all the time. Being the vampire king's General means it's his job to hunt down any that cross the king. These are the worst times for him because that's when he's forced to leave you on your own, exposed to the hungry eyes of the spawns. He's made it clear you belong to him and therefore off-limits to others. But with him gone, being his personal blood bag can only protect you for so long.

Before I start, I can not emphasize enough that this AU does not belong to me. This was directly based on @heavysighing-dreamyeyes series "Blood Bag AU" So if you haven't read that yet, go check that out first (trust me, the angst is delicious.)

Basically, I love Vamp!Jason and this is my way of coping with it. Or... when someone's writing is so good, you write a fanfic about the fanfic lol.

One week.

It took a whole fucking week to track down the bastard Dick sent him to hunt down.

Why they were on the King's shitlist was anyone's guess. With his mood lately, the reason could've ranged from anywhere between planning an uprising to some snide comment being overheard regarding the new "Discowing suit" (Now with a vampire cape!) worn last month. Whatever the case, Jason couldn't care less. They were to be taken out, and that's all he needs to know. He knows better than to go against the king's orders.

Unfortunately, someone must have tipped them off, cause by the time he left, the target was already halfway across the country. All it really does in the end is buy the bloodsucker a few days, but that meant another few days with you at risk without him. And Jason can't afford that.

He's made it clear multiple times to the court that you were his. His pet. His property. Therefore, you were under his protection, which means you were off-limits. Anyone who tried anything didn't live long enough to regret their mistake.

But that was when he was there by your side. Right now he's far away, and you were left behind to defend yourself. Alone and amongst a court of vampires, with only your status as the General's personal blood bag as protection. But he knows some of them will think with him gone, so is the danger. They'll either grow bold or decide the taste of you is worth the risk.

The Red Hood's name can only keep you safe for so long in his absence. Which is why he wants to rip the head off the slippery fucker wasting his time playing this damn game of chase. Luckily, it's not long before he gets his wish. He'd almost feel bad for the spawn if they hadn't put you at risk dragging this out.

Clearly, they don't know what happens when you piss off the King's second-in-command. Otherwise, they might have given up sooner in hopes for a quick death. It was too late now though.

Jason was the General for a reason after all, and it wasn't for being merciful.

----------------

He doesn't bother cleaning the blood off his clothes before immediately hightailing it back to the castle. By the time he gets back, he's a tight ball of anxiety and marching straight towards your chambers, barely registering the buzz of gossip around him. The feeling of unease grows as he gets close to your room, and he slightly begins to pick up his pace when he overhears a group nearby uttering your name.

Now he's running.

Your door practically shatters from how hard he slams it open. Little splinters of wood go flying everywhere, and he'd be more concerned about one hitting you, except the room was empty. No sign of anyone there recently.

...

Where the FUCK were you?!

------------------------------

The Red Hood is on the warpath, and no vampire is safe from him.

(A/N: You know that scene in 'Beauty and the Beast' where The Beast is roaring at Belle to 'GET OUT' while she's fleeing the room? Same vibes.)

There's screaming, bodies are flying, and by the time the Vamp! King is on the scene, the stone walls have been permanently dyed a scarlet red. Anyone unlucky enough to get caught in Jason's path was now a corpse. The only thing preventing Dick from being his next target is the fact that Jason still doesn't know where you are, and a part of him still clinging to sanity knows that he has to get a fucking hold of himself if he wants answers.

So, he crams that familiar rage into a box, bows his head, and kneels, submitting before the king of vampires.

When he lifts his head, Dick looks almost like he feels sorry for him. It's only the slightest twitch in his lips that tells Hood that he's full of crap. He then proceeds to go on a long-winded speech about what a tragedy it was. How it's such a shame what happened and he knew that they were his baby bird's favorite plaything.

Even as the cruel undead king of vampires, Dick was a dramatic little shit and he was milking this performance for everything it's worth, building up the tension while evading giving a straight answer.

It's taking all Jason has not to bare his fangs and lunge at the man he once called his brother. Perhaps Dick can sense it because he finally confirms his worst fears. One of the spawns managed to break into your room. You called for help. You called for him.

Nobody came.

One would assume that this would reignite Jason's blood slaughter from earlier, but there's...nothing. Even the familiar green haze permanently residing in the back of his mind goes quiet. There's a buzzing in Jason's ears and he wonders if he died again. But this time was worse because at least the first time he died you were still breathing. You were still alive. Now, you were gone.

...What was all this for then?

The blood on his hands, the distance he kept towards you, every moment of agony he had endured, every act of cruelty just so he could see you the next day, even if it meant you looking at him like a stranger. All of it, and it still wasn't enough. He failed you.

Slowly, the world starts turning and noise starts to filter back into his ears. Dick was still talking, informing him that he has your attacker in custody for him to deal with personally. That allows a flicker of something to reignite with him. He couldn't save you, but he could damn well make sure the one who took you pays for what he did. He wouldn't be able to make them feel a fraction of the pain Jason felt but he had years of experience as a crime lord. He could get creative.

But before anything else, you came first. Even now, you were his priority, and he wants to make sure you were sent off in a way you deserved. With the care and love you he couldn't give you in life. So playing the role of an obedient dog for a little longer, he asks where your body was?

"Body, what body?"

There's a flicker of sick amusement in Dicks eye while he watches Jason struggle on his last thread of patience before he finally reveals: "I never said they were dead"

It takes a moment for Jason to process what he said before a timid hope begins to rise, and it only takes another for it to immediately drop to the pit of his stomach as his brain flies a mile a minute.

If you're not dead then what-

Jason loses all the color on his face, and Dick smiles while watching the final piece click into place in his brother's mind. No, you were were not in fact dead.

You were turned.

And you've escaped.

A/N: Holy paragraphs Batman! I haven't written anything in like five years and then suddenly this thing just magically manifests from my cranium. Like, where in the ever-loving fuck nugget did this come from??? Anywho, this is unedited so sorry for any mistakes made. Will probably fix any errors later on. (If I remember) Do I have an idea where to go from here? Yes. Will I write another chapter? No idea. Maybe, if anyone's interested. And only with the approval of the original creator.

Again, this AU does not belong to me. All credit goes to @heavysighing-dreamyeyes and their Blood bag AU. Please check it out if you get the chance it is amazing.

Wondersimp...AWAY!!

[ivysangel]

…vampire!jason thoughts… you must provide them im desperate…. -🐞

(ik you probably expected #real smut, honestly i did too but this ended up turning into a whole bunch of lore/headcanons/whatever tf. i'm so sorry bae cw: talks of consuming blood)

you ask, you shall receive. i've been thinking about jason and dick as vampires in relation to each other, so this'll be a post about both of them just for the sake of comparisons. also, in my mind, this au takes place during the 19th century because i've conflated vampirism with the victorian era, and it's also no capes in regards to vigilantism bc vampires do love a good cape.

in this victorian era, vampire au dick would be either a nobleman or straight up royalty. he's got status, money, and a pretty face, and he uses them all to his advantage when it comes to feeding. you know in the originals or itwtv when they host an event that's actually a cover for them finding their next meal? yeah, he does that. he flirts with all of the ladies, plays into his charms, and sweeps women off their feet. and at the end of the night (sometimes even mid-ball), he coaxes them upstairs and ravishes them, sometimes in more ways than one.

i think for dick feeding is something he can have fun with, knowing that he holds such a high ranking in society that when bodies of people he's been seen with show up around town, people turn a blind eye. and even when someone does try to investigate, the wayne family checking account talks enough to shut down anything beyond a questioning.

in many pieces of media surrounding vampires, there are people who know about vampires and choose to feed them their blood. there's a bunch of lore that explores the idea that a vampire bite is almost orgasmic and kind of addictive, which is why some people are more than willing to put themselves in harm's way by either being employed by vampires or by straight up just throwing themselves into a vampires line of sight with open wounds.

with that being said, i think dick grayson likes the chase. i think that even if his father (bruce, who is also a vampire in this au because vampire families are just superior) has people on his payroll to provide blood for them, he's going to go out on his own to flirt a bit, get laid, and then have his fill.

which brings me to my next point; while feeding, like sex, is an intimate act, it's far from necessary for dick to need an emotional connection with a person he feeds off of or even a physical one. sex and feeding are related but not totally synonymous, and if he needs to just feed or just get his rocks off, he can. is it preferred? maybe not. i believe he does like the mess that comes with doing both at the same time.

ok so for jason, ugh so obsessed with him as a vampire because i think it's so in line with his canon story. in a lot of vampire lore, to become a vampire, you have to consume the blood of a vampire and either die or be on the brink of death, which is just so. it's so jason dying and being revived by the lazarus pit coded. and even the way he inevitable that he will spill blood post-revival in both this vampire au and his canon storyline…it's almost prophetic.

anyway, jason's approach to vampirism is quite different. i think he struggles with it no matter how long he's been one. he can't fully grasp that he's immortal; he looks in the mirror and sees that he hasn't aged a day and he feels sick. being a vampire for him feels like a curse and he only continues living because he's scared to die (again).

he doesn't stay anywhere too long, typically hopping from town to town in the middle of the night when less people are around. he believes himself to be out of place amongst normal people and he's paranoid that people can smell the iron on his breath when he talks to them so he makes it a point to have minimal interaction with people.

it's crippling, he drives himself mad with the solitude, but i feel like another reason why he continues to stay alive is to spite his creator, whoever that may be. he's most definitely got an agenda, in true jason fashion. i just don't know what it is yet.

he feeds only when he needs to but tries not to let the hunger get too intense because i do feel like when he loses control, he's the stefan salvitore type. a ripper. but he's pretty good about it and is almost polite when he's feeding? like he finds a victim and says i'm sorry before just absolutely tearing into their jugular.

i just really think he grapples with his own mortality, or lack thereof, and how it exists at the expense of others. so he is genuinely ashamed of who he is and what he's become. so, while blood drinking is something he needs to survive, it holds a lot of weight for him, which is why i think drinking blood and sex are pretty equal for him when it comes to intimacy level.

that brings me to my MAIN point (which isn't really a main point because it's being reduced to a small paragraph at the end of this post), all of that was background for this, eek. the act of drinking blood during sex is so. big. for him, it's eye-opening, life-changing. the amount of trust required on both ends for this to happen…at that point, it's basically end game for you two. and it's so funny because that's just a normal tuesday for dick.

anyway, i do have more thoughts and more lore, but this got really long, so i'll cut it off here

[snazzy-snooter]

*Jason dies before becoming a vampire*

Me: fine... I'll do it myself

I read everything in the DC v Vamp! Universe and the ending was so disappointing 😭

Like there was so much hype and arcs built up that just got totally scuffed

I wanted to see Jason be the Himbo vampire asshoke that he deserves to be :,)

[marypsue]

Keep seeing that post where OP starts like 'Thinking about...grieving the undead' and then adds on about like. Real life situations where people have not died but have left your life and you would have reason to grieve them.

All respect, that's an important concept, but that is not what I am thinking about when I read 'grieving the undead'.

[gothamite-rambler]

"Weird Questions from a Weird City: Batfamily Edition

Duke Thomas: What’s your biggest fear?

Jason Todd: That I’ll never be good enough for anyone.

Tim Drake: Everyone hates me and talks about me behind my back.

Dick Grayson: Vampires.

Jason Todd: ...

Tim Drake: ...

Dick Grayson: I got turned into one once and nearly killed peoples. It's a bloodlust, you never know when you'll be fully quenched and every non-vampire is a succulent vessel... But I'm not a vampire anymore and that is in my past.

Dick eats his apple after that.

*silence*

Duke Thomas: Holy crap stick, Batman.

Tim: Can I change my option to Dick Grayson?

Jason: Same.

[vincentvega0721]

DC vs. Vampires

[gffa]

Jason Todd is an annoying little brother, your honor, and I LOVE HIM.

[violent138]

Bruce definitely trained all the Robins to abandon him if things got bad. He'd give them scenarios like him trapped under something in a fire, hypothermic conditions, he's too injured, and they need to get information to Lucius, and the list goes on. And to date, the only bit of training his kids have continually failed, whether in simulation or practice, is failing to leave him behind.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

In A Moonlit Garden

AKA A Blood Bag side story (The DC vs Vampires AU) It didn't really fit within the flow of the main story, but the night where it all became too much, weeks before the fated ball, you tried to run. You didn't get very far. ~2k words

There's a weight on your back. It's heavy. Unyielding. Pushing you down. Down. Down. Something sharp rests at the base of your throat. It threatens to puncture your skin. You can't see it– you can't see anything really, but you know you're in danger. It presses you down harder, suffocates you with terror and it's steady pressure. The sharpness at the base of your throat pricks at you harder, nearly breaking into your flesh. 

Then there's nothing. You turn, you shouldn't, but you do. You turn and there's nothing there at all. You turn again. You can't stop yourself from doing it, a prisoner in your own body, even if you know what's coming.  

And then there's pain. Blinding pain in your chest that steals all the air in your lungs. You shouldn't look down, but you do. A familiar gloved hand holds your beating heart in its grasp, thrust out of your chest. It pounds once. It pounds twice. And then it goes still. 

A gasp leaves your lips as you're startled awake. It's the same dream. The same one that's been haunting you for weeks, ever since you saw what happens to Blood Bags that don't follow orders. The shocked face of the unfortunate, doomed Blood Bag is still seared into your mind, The Vampire King's gleeful laugh still rings in your ears, but it's never his hand that snaps you awake from your haunting nightmares.

You push yourself off the bed, groggy, exhausted, still drained and weak from the last time Jason– no, Red Hood fed on you. It's almost morning. Or maybe it's just past sunset. It's hard to tell. You've been sleeping a lot, locking yourself away in your room for a false sense of safety in this forsaken crypt. 

The sun isn't visible over the horizon, but streaks of orange and pink still linger in the sky. It's beautiful, too beautiful for the horrid world it's gracing. If you had any tears left to cry over it, maybe you would. But you're tired of mourning the end of the world, tired of the sting of betrayal that comes every time The General is in your presence. 

You have nothing, no one, besides memories now, and even those are fleeting when your nightmares hang heavy over your waking and sleeping hours. You linger by the window, eyes locked on the colors and light that paint the clouds. They're all that seem familiar, sometimes. 

Your room, even with its views of the well tended gardens and ever changing skies, does nothing to help you forget that you're a prisoner. No matter how soft your sheets are, no matter how fancy the clothes they dress you in are, no matter how high above everything your balcony seats you– it is all just part of a play. Set pieces that come and go at The Vampire King's whim, and, if he sees fit, Red Hood's. 

The thought only makes you more miserable. Jason– Red Hood. Red Hood hasn't said a word to you since you were taken to the fortress. He only comes to your room to feed, and only sees you outside of it on the rare occasion he drags you to a ball or festivity at court. 

It's all just so suffocating. You miss talking to him people. You miss wearing whatever you wanted to and going wherever you felt like. You don't have that in this death-filled castle. You don't have a thing but the few measly privileges that belonging to Red Hood offers you. 

The sky starts to darken. Sunset. It means the halls will fill with laughter and music and the sharp, rotting smell of blood. It makes your chin wobble. Even your room– furthest from the ground, stowed away in a wing where no one dares to go without permission– cannot keep the sounds and smells at bay. 

You want to scream. To tear everything apart. To climb up on the railings and stones of the fortress and wail as the sky fades from clear blue to shimmering stars against black. But you can do none of this. It would only lead to some form of punishment, after all. 

Your skin starts to itch at the thought. The bites that litter your skin suddenly feel all too fresh and raw. You don't think, just turn from your window and start to run. You don't have a plan, you just need to go.

Another second in this hell, another moment faking smiles and watching sharp nails split open warm wrists, you just can't take it. You run, run until your heart is in your throat and dirt and grass push between your toes.

The garden. The only place that seems to have any solace for you. But it's not right. It's too dark and the last of the sun is disappearing behind the cold, stone wall. You can't let that happen. You need its light, need it to keep away the monsters that creep in the dark.

You know that it doesn't make sense, that your thoughts are frayed and scrambled and far too stressed to be rational, but you just need a break from it all. One more moment in the sun.

You dart for the wall. Maybe if you climb high enough you'll never lose the light. Maybe if you're fast enough, you can chase the sunbeams forever, always out of reach of the night.

And then fingers curl around your wrist, and you're pulled to a stop, mere feet away from the garden wall. The last of the twilight fades, and the moon takes its place, its once soothing light now eerie among the flowers and bushes. 

You whirl around, you don't know who– or what you want it to be. But it's Red Hood. (It's always him) He doesn't say a word– he never does anymore– he just stares at you, almost bored, from under the crimson hood that used to actually mean something. His eyes glow unnaturally as he tightens and loosens his hold on your wrist, as if he's debating what to do. 

It's silent except for the sound of your breathing. And your hopelessness– your desire to just be free– melts into anger. "Let me go," you snap, tugging your wrist from his grasp. 

He lets you go without a fight, eyes sharp and calculating as he watches you. His gaze makes you feel like a cornered animal, and maybe that's all you are now. Maybe you are nothing more than a prized Blood Bag to be pranced around like some sort of show dog.

"How could you do this to me," you snap, voice catching and venomous all at once. He doesn't ask for you to elaborate, doesn't even tilt his head to indicate for you to do so. Why would he need to? The scars and fresh puncture wounds that mark up your skin so visibly are enough of an accusation alone.

His lack of words– lack of anything– reignites your fury all over again. Your face wobbles and you step forward, thoughtless, and hit your fist against his chest, "How. Could you. Do this. To me," you ask again, nearly begging for an answer, an explanation for everything that's happened, every horror you've witnessed under The Vampire King's roof.

He doesn't say anything, doesn't even move, just lets you bang your fists against his chest again and again until you feel like they're going to bruise.

"Jason! How could you–" But then he tenses, cuts you off by catching your wrists. There's a flash of something dark behind him. You don't quite get a look at it, too distracted by the way one of his hands grabs at your waist to pull you closer.. He tugs at your clothes, exposing your shoulder to the night. Goosebumps rise over your skin at the cold air. It's all the warning you get before he bites.

Sharp fangs pierce your flesh, pain shoots down your shoulder from where he sinks his fangs. His hands dig into your waist, the back of your head, keeping you still as he drinks. You feel warmth dripping down your skin, small trails of blood pooling into the fabric of your clothes. 

He shudders, and pulls you all the more closer. You want to keep hitting him, want to shout and fight and make him regret ever choosing this for you. But you're tired. So tired again. Your eyes find the pale white light of the moon. It blurs, as Red Hood continues to drink from your life blood. But it's pretty, almost numbing.

You fixate on it, lost to its false light, in the desire to just close your eyes and drift away, you don't register the shadows that seem to close in around you, only kept at bay the threatening, glowing pair of eyes hovering over your skin.

You're The Vampire King's favorite Blood Bag. Not for the same reasons as his favoured general, of course. But because you're so, so stupid. All the answers are right there at your fingertips. Everything you could want is laid out right in front of you, but you're too blind to see it. You tried to run from it instead. Dick could tell you, of course, in honor of the vague friendship you used to share. But that would spoil it all. 

He has to bite back the giggle that wells in his throat as he watches his little brother drink from your veins. He can almost feel the disgust, the self hatred and loathing permeating from him. But you don't pick up a thing. And that is so, so funny! It's the most entertained he's ever been, watching the soap opera that is Red Hood and his Blood Bag.

Dick knows Jason would do anything for you, but watching him corrupt himself from the inside out, seeing him truly become the most capable vampire in his court, all for the cause of keeping you safe? It's sweeter than any blood The Vampire King has ever spilled. And it's all the more delicious that you just. Don't. Know.

You don't know what his general has done. You don't see the mask for what it is. But Dick does. He knows Jason is just playing his part, that he doesn't mean any of it. It's not an issue yet. But The Vampire King hates loose ends. 

Soon enough, though, he's sure his finest general will forget that it's a mask, that the role was never truly real. Red Hood will learn to love what he's become, embrace every malicious bite and deadly scratch he delivers to his foes. Dick will have to use you to do it, of course, but you should be honored to serve a part in his plans.

He watches you both for a moment more, watches the way Red Hood keeps his claws from breaking the skin of your waist (always so careful with you, his general is, even when you've been given completely to him). He listens to the weakening whimpers that escape your throat as Jason licks away the path of blood from your skin, soothes the sting of his bite with his tongue. It's so falsely romantic, and almost sickening if he wasn't partially invested in his brother's love life. 

The Vampire King turns to leave, once your consciousness seems to fail you. He wouldn't want to overindulge in his favorite little comedy, after all, and it's hardly interesting now that you've stopped fighting. 

Besides, he has rebels to execute, parties to throw, punishments to deliver to his more unworthy spawn. He allows himself one last glance, vaguely wondering if his smile is too borderline sadistic when he's supposed to be cheerful. He's pleasantly surprised to meet Jason's gaze, and The Vampire King flicks his gaze down to where you're cradled in his generals arms. 

Dick nods to him, ever impressed at the show Red Hood continues to perform so flawlessly. It's nice, he decides as he walks away and leaves Jason to his own devices, to have someone so capable of delivering exactly what he wants without the need for words.

Entertainment, unfortunately, is so hard to come by once you've taken over the world, and you and Red Hood really are the most interesting toys he has. 

[dcxdpdabbles]

Jason: Hi!

Danny: Good evening

Jason: Oh um, yes, good evening. Do you eat to survive?

Danny: What?

Jason: Ha ha ha! I'm joking! Of course you eat, um I eat too! But why?

Danny: I don't-what are you asking me?

Jason: Gotham is beautiful at night! It's when I eat!

Danny: Are you a-

Dick appearing out of nowhere: Hey there, Jay. You wandered off while I was getting us water. Sorry about him. He's very drunk. I'll take him home to sleep it off.

Danny: *Grabbing Jason's writ* Do you know him?

Jason: Yes, he's my brother. See, that's my family. *Shows lock screen of family* I have many siblings, which means I would be totally fine with lots of kids!

Danny: *Let's go* Oh good. Sorry if he's really that drunk I didn't want him going home with a stranger. No offense

Dick: None taken. I appreciate men like you who keep everyone safe. Come along Jay, let's get you home.

Jason: But-

Dick: You asked me to step in when you were going out of control. Remember?

Jason: Right yes. Ugh Bye.

Danny: Goodbye.

Dick outside of bar: That was terrible. You really do suck at flirting.

Jason: I just froze up! Ugh I hope he doesn't think I'm a idiot.

Danny watching them through the window: That's a vampire pretending to be human. I can smell the undead on him and he was going to lure me to a dark alley if his human servant hadn't stepped in.

Jazz: I was gone for like five minutes Danny, how did you find a creature of the night within that time?

Danny: It's a gift. Thankfully, I'm too smart to be tricked by a vampire.

Jazz: ......you would have followed him into the alley wouldn't you?

Danny: He may be a blood sucker but did you see his muscles? What a way to die.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Taking notes ✍️ for future reference ✍️

Giving scores to the 4 most common places to feed from as a vampire on a human body

[hehether]

Reverse! AU where most of them don't have no killing code, and Jason is a priest 🧍‍♂️

Vampire king Dick's dad was Edward Cullen Battinson trust me

[merletka]

Vampire Jason 🩸

[kabukiaku]

some halloween ghost commissions! had to share em, they were very fun to work on 🎃🖤✨

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

RUN, don't walk to go read this fic!! I don't even know where to begin, but I do know I want to sing Sunnie's praises from the top of a building. This fic actually changed my brain chemistry. Every paragraph was immaculate, from the smut to Jason and the readers' relationship. All I needed to hear was Vampire!Jason and Sunnie and I knew it was going to be a masterpiece. I talk about my favorite parts below the cut!

Jason Todd is on you the second you walk through the door, pharmacy bag dropping from your hands in surprise. The door’s barely shut behind you before he’s crowding you up against it, cold night air still lingering on your skin, his nose buried in your neck. His lips part along your collarbone and you roll your eyes at the pinprick of fangs already descending from his gums. “I smell blood,” he rumbles. “Are you hurt?”

SUNNIE!! You are on FIRE!! I am locked in!!!! Him immediately crowding your space? Checking if you're hurt?? I SWOONED.

Jason’s already waiting for you by the time you hobble into the kitchen, slow and regrettably human. Under your breath you curse his unnatural speed but he hears you anyway and grins.

I am eating this up!! Just little things like this showing us he's not quite normal is such good storytelling. I know he can get cocky af over it, and I can literally see the sly smirk on his face!

“Please, baby? ‘M starving over here,” Jason pouts. He’s suddenly behind you, arms around your midriff. He lets out a huff of air right over your jugular, goosebumps rising across your skin. Usually, that would be enough to have you caving, knees weak and and panties wet, begging for his bite.

No notes. They are so me. I would absolutely fold, no pout necessary.

“Talia’s out of town and you know nothin’ tastes anywhere near as good as you do,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You want to scream at his perfect dumb face with its stupid puppy eyes.

Nothing tastes as good as they do!!?? AHHH!! I also want to scream at him, but also I am a puddle of feelings on the floor.

“Well if you’re already bleeding. I don’t hafta bite you.” He smirks at you like he’s solved all of your problems. Slowly, your face starts to heat up as you put together what he’s implying.

The way I GASPED. Jason Todd, the man that you are. Someone sedate me because I will not and can not be normal about this.

“C’mon sweetheart,” he prowls towards you, predatory glint in his eye “let me put my mouth to good use. I promise I won’t bite.” He’s got you backed against the countertop, balancing on your tip toes.

I'm insane about a Jason that's always in your space. It feels so true to character, and I don't know how to explain it.

Jason’s got you undressed and flat on your back on the bed in under 15 seconds in what has to be a new personal record.

FERAL. I'm clawing at the walls, banging my fists against the ground. He knows exactly what he's doing, and I am WEAK.

Somewhere in the trip between the kitchen and the bedroom Jason had lost his shirt and you’re reminded again of just how badly he can make your mouth water, staring at the broad expanse of muscle covered in a thin layer of fat.

I am fr fanning myself like a scandalized lady, but also, I'm looking sooo disrespectfully.

Jason smooths a broad palm along the side of your ribcage until it settles on the plush curve of your hip. Slowly, he starts to kiss at your jaw and throat, purposefully avoiding the lush temptation of your carotid.

Eeeee!! YOUR WORDS ARE THE WORDS OF ALL TIME!! It's so visual, and I want to sink my nails into them.

Your hips struggle to move but the coiled strength in his palms traps you right where he wants you. He’s enjoying this, you can tell from the way he’s playing you like a finely tuned instrument.

My jaw dropped. Actual perfection in a paragraph. I'm eating the whole vampire thing up and leaving no scraps.

Trying to arch up into him, Jason slams your hips back down onto the mattress, the heating pad sliding somewhere off to the side of your hip. “C’mon baby, gotta stay still so I can finish my dinner,” he purrs, not even bothering to look up from the blood drooling between your legs.

SUNNIE!!!! Did you know you were writing liquid gold here??? I can not tell you many times I reread this part specially, just wow.

Your thighs start to shake when he curls a second finger into you, scissors his fingers wide to make it easier to drink you down. Spreads you open and fucks back in as deep as his hand will go.

The smut is smutting, and I am devouring every line.

He grins, predatory again, and oh you should have seen this coming. Something about wetting his throat with blood always has Jason desperate to get his dick wet too.

I'm shaking!! fr I'm a mess over this, and I loove the little glimpses into their relationship outside the fic! I know they're both insatiable for each other.

Jason slowly feeds his cock into you, smile still stained red. Moves one of your legs to hook around his waist while he carefully keeps the other one pinned over his shoulder as he folds you in two. He’s big. He’s always big but in this position you can feel every inch of him, can practically taste your hips giving way as he makes space for himself inside of you.

I need to scream into a pillow immediately

He coos at your wide eyes and slack-jawed expression as you clench tighter and tighter around him. Bends his head to mouth at your neglected breasts and smear them bloody. Jason minds his teeth as he laps and suckles at your tits in a crude approximation of what he just did to your clit.

WOW. WOW. WOW. Yes????? I am feeling things, and no one is allowed to look at me until I recover.

Jason licks your combined spend off his finger and sighs with satisfaction. Starts to rub the warm mixture of blood, cum and slick into the skin over your womb in idle patterns. “You know, you tasted good before, but I think I like you best when you taste like me.”

Insane. Actually insane here. Just like the lazy marking over their skin?? Specifically over their womb after he just finished inside them? Primal. Stellar ending, and I am a completely different person now and will be spending the next 3-4 weeks thinking about your Vampire!Jason.

week 3 (oct. 18) | period sex

✮⋆˙bon appétit (2.2k)

jason's a vampire, you're on your period, and, well a man's gotta eat

tags: f!reader, vamp jason, established relationship, period sex, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, blood drinking, blood as lube, slight size kink, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

a/n: for @luvrodite my darling, this would not exist without your encouragement

⊘ this is an 18+ fic. minors do not interact, you will be blocked

Jason Todd is on you the second you walk through the door, pharmacy bag dropping from your hands in surprise. The door’s barely shut behind you before he’s crowding you up against it, cold night air still lingering on your skin, his nose buried in your neck. His lips part along your collarbone and you roll your eyes at the pinprick of fangs already descending from his gums.

“I smell blood,” he rumbles. “Are you hurt?”

With a sigh you dig your now empty hand into the thick mess of his hair and pull him off of your throat. His pupils have already started to narrow into slits, catlike.

“No, and if you’d stop thinking with your fangs for a hot second you’d realize it’s because of my period.” Reaching down for the bag you’d just let go of, you gasp as another cramp spikes through your lower belly and claws up your back. “Right, you can get the bag because you made me drop it. I’m going to find my heat pack in the kitchen.”

Jason’s already waiting for you by the time you hobble into the kitchen, slow and regrettably human. Under your breath you curse his unnatural speed but he hears you anyway and grins. He’s already put your heat pack in the microwave so there’s nothing to do but gratefully take the painkillers he’s fished out of the bag for you and wait. His stomach grumbles.

“Nope,” you declare. “Not happening tonight. I’m losing enough blood as it is, you aren’t getting your hands on any more.”

“Please, baby? ‘M starving over here,” Jason pouts. He’s suddenly behind you, arms around your midriff. He lets out a huff of air right over your jugular, goosebumps rising across your skin. Usually, that would be enough to have you caving, knees weak and and panties wet, begging for his bite. Tonight, you push his face away with annoyance.

“Go get some synth blood from you maker or something. Isn’t she always offering to hook you up with a supply? I’m off the menu tonight, so put those–” you tap at his upper lip, right over where his fangs have descended “–away.”

The microwave beeps, giving you an excuse to slip from his grasp. You moan at the warmth as you shove it down the front of your clothing, the heat already making the cramps reside a little.

“Talia’s out of town and you know nothin’ tastes anywhere near as good as you do,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You want to scream at his perfect dumb face with its stupid puppy eyes.

“Jason. I’ve got a waterfall of blood in my underwear – which is stained by the way because none of the PATH toilets had any pads in any of their dispensers – my back hurts, my stomach hurts, my boobs are pain central, and my ankles are sore for some ungodly reason. I’m not adding “mauled by a hungry vampire” to the list of reasons why I’m destroying my liver with painkillers.”

You know you’re probably being bitchier about it than you normally would be to turn him down, but you’ve just had the day from hell. First your period had started on your morning commute to work. Then the pad you had been counting on to be in your purse hadn’t been there, a casualty of Tamara two desks over last week. There’d only been a single pill left in the bottle of painkillers you kept at your desk, and you’d been so run off your feet with work that you hadn’t had a chance to run out for more. You’re tired and sore, absolutely ready to face plant into bed.

“I don’t gotta bite, you know,” Jason says slowly.

“What,” you retort flatly, already done with this conversation.

“Well if you’re already bleeding. I don’t hafta bite you.” He smirks at you like he’s solved all of your problems. Slowly, your face starts to heat up as you put together what he’s implying.

“You don’t– what. You wanna...” you splutter, unable to string the thought together.

“C’mon sweetheart,” he prowls towards you, predatory glint in his eye “let me put my mouth to good use. I promise I won’t bite.” He’s got you backed against the countertop, balancing on your tip toes. The faux marble is firm beneath your scrabbling fingertips as you let out a squeak. He traces the apple of your cheek with a deceptively gentle finger. “Besides, you always feel so nice and relaxed after you come. Might make those cramps better.”

Cotton mouthed, you swallow down your desire but you can tell from the lopsided grin that Jason can already smell it on you.

“Ye-ah, okay.” You nod and bite your lip. “But if you make my cramps worse, I reserve the right to knee you in the head.”

Jason’s got you undressed and flat on your back on the bed in under 15 seconds in what has to be a new personal record. He’d even managed to put a towel down and reposition the heating pack right over your womb between breaths. Somewhere in the trip between the kitchen and the bedroom Jason had lost his shirt and you’re reminded again of just how badly he can make your mouth water, staring at the broad expanse of muscle covered in a thin layer of fat. He looks down at your bare, bleeding cunt and you swear you see a hint of something cold and predatory tinge his desire.

You reach out to him feeling oddly vulnerable, the rabbit kicking in the jaws of the wolf. He smiles at you, and despite the narrowed slit of his pupils you feel the warmth leech back into the room. Gently, he lowers himself down to cover your body with his. Kisses and laps at your open mouth, careful not to nick you with his fangs. Jason smooths a broad palm along the side of your ribcage until it settles on the plush curve of your hip. Slowly, he starts to kiss at your jaw and throat, purposefully avoiding the lush temptation of your carotid.

When Jason takes your aching breast into the wet heat of his mouth for the first time that night, you gasp and arch your back. Your hips strain with nowhere to go against the rock solid weight of his body. He’s gentler than he usually is, keeps his promise not to bite by laving at the bud of your nipple with the flat of his tongue. Kisses and sucks at the aching flesh until you are mewling from oversensitivity, now wet with more than just blood. He barely reacts to you clawing at his back, nails leaving raw red lines that heal over in an instant.

“Too much too muchtoomuchtoomuch,” you babble, body leaden with a different type of ache.

He pulls off your breast with an audible pop, a thin line of spit connecting his lips to the wet mess he’s made of your tits. Jason smiles as he peppers kisses down your belly, still careful not to jostle the heat pack from it’s place. He licks and kisses at each thigh before placing them onto his shoulders, sucking hard enough to leave bruises in your wake. You start to roll your eyes at him for his obsession with getting as close to your blood as possible when the scrape of teeth across the thin skin has you trying to strangle him with your thighs.

“No biting,” you gasp out, the curve of your spine pushing your breasts into the air.

“No biting,” he says, humouring you.

Jason hands close around your hips and drags you down to meet him. He licks a broad stripe right across your dripping cunt, obliterating any indignant thoughts in your head. Sucks a kiss to your clit that has you grabbing for his hair, desperate to keep his face right there. Your hips struggle to move but the coiled strength in his palms traps you right where he wants you. He’s enjoying this, you can tell from the way he’s playing you like a finely tuned instrument. Alternates long slow licks with taps and flicks of his tongue just to watch you dissolving into a whining and desperate creature.

You’re wet, so wet you can feel it dripping down to the cleft of your ass. Jason slurps – slurps! – up the mixture of your blood and arousal, traces it straight back to the source until he’s sucking right over your entrance. The tip of his tongue traces your cunt before plunging in and you moan, body tensing up at the intrusion. Trying to arch up into him, Jason slams your hips back down onto the mattress, the heating pad sliding somewhere off to the side of your hip.

“C’mon baby, gotta stay still so I can finish my dinner,” he purrs, not even bothering to look up from the blood drooling between your legs.

Arousal and embarrassment flare through you, lighting you up and burning through your cheeks as he goes back to eating you out. The spread of his fangs pinning your hole wide open as he thrusts the slick muscle of his tongue back into you. Uses it to curl into you wickedly until you moan high and reedy in your throat, aching for more. A thick finger prods at your entrance, alternates thrusting in with his tongue, forcing you to clench down around the intrusion. You can do nothing but lay there and take it, as he fucks you on his fingers and tongue. There’s no  escape from him and his questing mouth, pinned down as you are.

Your thighs start to shake when he curls a second finger into you, scissors his fingers wide to make it easier to drink you down. Spreads you open and fucks back in as deep as his hand will go. Hooks those fingers into the soft spongy part of your gut that has you seeing stars and pushes as he sucks on your clit again.

“Right there, Jay,” you whine, fighting for breath as your tummy screws up tight. “Please.”

Jason keeps hitting that spot with his fingers with unerring accuracy, hammering away as he laves over your clit. It’s the barest hint of teeth dragging across it that sends you burning over the edge, vision whiting out at the corners when you come. Chest heaving as you try to breath through it, body turning to jelly, your cramps are long forgotten in the flood of endorphins.

Jason grins from between your thighs, chin red with your blood and sticky with your slick. Leans over to show you the mess you’ve made of his hand, the sticky strings that still cling, connecting it to your twitching cunt. He keeps his eyes locked with yours as he licks it all up, moans at the taste of you and ruts his dick into the bed.

“You taste so good, honey–" you whine at the praise “–just had to have a little taste. And I was good wasn’t I, didn’t even bite to get it, so I think I deserve a little dessert too.”

You nod too fucked out and relaxed to move, body nearly one with the bed as your aching muscles melt. He grins, predatory again, and oh you should have seen this coming. Something about wetting his throat with blood always has Jason desperate to get his dick wet too.

Jason slowly feeds his cock into you, smile still stained red. Moves one of your legs to hook around his waist while he carefully keeps the other one pinned over his shoulder as he folds you in two. He’s big. He’s always big but in this position you can feel every inch of him, can practically taste your hips giving way as he makes space for himself inside of you. Jason sets a pace that has you shaking under him, eyes wide as he steals the air from your lungs with each deep thrust. Filthy, wet squelching noises stream from your cunt as he fucks it sloppy, driven feral by the scent of blood in the air.

He coos at your wide eyes and slack-jawed expression as you clench tighter and tighter around him. Bends his head to mouth at your neglected breasts and smear them bloody. Jason minds his teeth as he laps and suckles at your tits in a crude approximation of what he just did to your clit. All the while his thrusts speed up, jolt you up the bed as he starts to jackhammer. You wail as he comes inside of you, hot spurts of cum painting your quivering walls. Jason works a hand between you and all it takes is the slightest pressure to set off the chain reaction in you again.

Smug, Jason rolls off to lie beside you, head propped on his hand to watch you gasp and twitch like a gutted fish. He reaches down between your thighs and runs a finger through the mess there, causes you to shiver. Jason licks your combined spend off his finger and sighs with satisfaction. Starts to rub the warm mixture of blood, cum and slick into the skin over your womb in idle patterns.

“You know, you tasted good before, but I think I like you best when you taste like me.”