#vampire master shake

[vampirically-obssesed]

Snippet

Pistachio flavoured eternity

Pairing: Vamp!Master Shake/Reader

Slight NSFW/hinted NSFW

Shake licked his lips devilishly, slipping a glove covered hand up your shirt slowly. The sensation made you writhe uncomfortably at the temperature of his hand, your heart pounding mad about the cold appendage smoothing over your chest. You were certain he could feel it, either ignoring it or relishing in the fact that he was making something hot with a pulse feel this way.

He leaned in, scratchy beard tickling your neck as he licked over your pulse, "God, you fucking bimbo... you're going to taste so good..." he hissed happily. Sinking his fangs into you, you let out a soft moan, grabbing onto his lid and letting your head roll back to give him more access.

The night went on and you lost your memory half way through your little fucked up "cuddle session," as he called it. The morning sun arose and you found yourself in bed with the monster that took you from the pond side while trying to explode ducks with baking soda and vinegar. You were nude, he... well, he's always nude. 'What the fuck even happened...' you thought, lying there while checking your body, feeling the multiple bites the dickhead left on you.

[xx-bag-of-bags-xx]

Bag tour! Here's some bags I've decorated!

Click for full photos. The one with all the vampires and pins is my personal bag, and the bigger one at the top is my school bag👍

[bluebeary-jay]

A promise softly sung

Astarion x f!Reader/Tav

Summary: before the battle that will decide his fate, Astarion is terrified of losing you to Cazador. you comfort him after a nightmare. (set at the beginning of act 3)

Tags: hurt/comfort, BIG angst and some fluff, poor boy doesn't believe he's deserving of love :( let's hold him until he changes his mind

Warnings: mentions of trauma, self-deprecating thoughts, memories of past abuse and torture, c*zador, being unable to move (briefly), tadpoles mention (idk if that's a trigger)

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: hiiiiiiiii my darlings <33 soo this is something else from what i usually write but i finished bg3 recently and i LOVED IT but i'm on a trip rn so in the absence of my pc i found some inner inspiration to write something again. honestly i missed writing very much but i had the biggest block for almost a year now but maybe it'll get better now that my classes are starting again and i'll be needing a distraction lmao. anyway comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated and don't be shy to send in a request! and as always, happy reading!!! <3

He was there again.

Astarion loathed those hard, stone walls as much as he feared them. It was here that he once spent an entire night, having infernal script meticulously carved into his skin. It was here that he was punished every time he disappointed his master, every time he didn’t do well enough on his mission. It was here that he was reminded time and time again how worthless, pathetic and meaningless his existence was. It was here he returned in almost all of his nightmares.

But now you were here, too.

Astarion couldn’t believe this, but no matter how much he blinked or willed himself to wake up, the view before his eyes didn’t change. It was you, chained by the wrists to the ceiling where he was hanging so many times before, your toes just barely scraping the ground that was already splattered with your blood. Your clothes were ripped to shreds and cuts and bruises covered almost every inch of your skin. Astarion wanted to run up to you, to get you somewhere safe and far away from this place, but he found that he was unable to move. It wasn’t shock seizing up his limbs, but magical paralysis which he had experienced a couple of times during combat. Even though he knew it was a spell that was holding him in place, he still fought against it with all the strength he could muster – but to no avail.

Your eyes, full of tears and fear, met his briefly before you looked past him at someone else.

“Ah, my sweet, insolent boy,” whispered a voice straight from Astarion’s deepest, darkest nightmares, causing him to tense up in terror. A hand – pale, all too familiar in its deceptive tenderness – brushed his jaw from behind before grabbing his hair roughly. The vampire spawn could do nothing but watch as his head was tilted back and he came face to face with his master.

No, it can’t be… How was Cazador here? How were you here?!

“You’ve been a very bad boy, Astarion,” Cazador tutted, shaking his head. “Running away like that, not returning home for months… It’s no way to treat family, isn’t it?” Astarion felt a sharp sting of his master’s quarterstaff at his back, digging into the scars made by the same hand, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t even scream. “But I’ll forgive you… eventually. After all, you brought me this delectable treat…”

Both him and Cazador looked up at you when Astarion realized what – or rather, who – that bastard was talking about. He tried shaking his head, tried begging for him not to hurt you, but he still couldn’t move, his voice was still stuck past his throat and no word or sound came out. In the meantime, Cazador stood up, walking around his spawn to stand in front of you.

“His own survival was always the most important thing to him,” Cazador said almost pitifully, and only after a moment Astarion realized that this time, he was speaking to you. “He’s a selfish, contemptuous creature, after all. Say, did he tell you he loved you before he lured you here like so many others before you? Did he lie, swearing how much you mean to him?”

“Yes, he… he did.”

Astarion prayed to any higher being that it was just the power of another spell compelling you to say that, and not what you were really thinking. He tried to struggle against his own magical restraints, but whatever scroll or verbal command was used, it was far too powerful for the vampire to beat it with sheer willpower alone. He was helpless again – but worse than that, he was forced to watch you being at Cazador’s mercy, too, all while he couldn’t do anything to save you.

“I honestly didn’t think poor Astarion had it in him,” Cazador continued calmly, gliding gracefully around you and disappearing behind your back. Your own eyes, now full of hurt and betrayal, were trained on Astarion’s. He couldn’t turn away, but in the corner of his vision the elf saw a flash of a blade against your bare skin. “To give away one person who, for some strange reason, saw good in a filthy worm like him… But I’m so very proud of you, sweetling.” Cazador looked at him over your shoulder and licked his lips, so, so dangerously close to your neck. “You’ll live to serve me for centuries to come, and you can watch your lover take your place in my ritual… You did well, Astarion.”

No, Astarion cried in the prison of his own body, unable to reach you or to even stop Cazador from spilling lies into your ears. Not her, no, no, please–

“No!”

Cazador smiled widely and sank his teeth into your fragile neck, and you screamed, still looking at Astarion with this horrible hatred in your eyes…

“No, no, please! Take me, please, just don’t–”

“My love, it’s alright, you’re safe…”

“Stop! Please, just–!”

His body suddenly jerked painfully and his eyes shot open, darting around in confusion and trying to figure out where he was. Astarion wasn’t feeling the cold frigid air of the kennels anymore – instead his skin was almost hot, and damp from sweat, but there was something smooth and soft under his back… the sheets. He was in a bed, at an inn. Still panting heavily, he looked around, noting the details in his surroundings: the crooked chandelier, a little window with curtains drawn shut, his shirt hung neatly over the back of the chair… and your shoes right next to it.

At the memory of your battered and tortured body in Cazador’s dungeon, Astarion shot up with a belated sob, almost knocking you over in the process. Only when your warm hand left his cheek did he notice your presence. You were kneeling next to him on the mattress, expression worried and sorrowful, with the last traces of sleep just leaving the edge of your vision. His red eyes scanned your body, but there were no bruises, no cuts made by Cazador’s wretched blade, no burns on your wrists from the manacles he saw you in mere moments ago.

And there was no hatred in your gaze. Only love and care he didn’t deserve.

Astarion’s eyes filled with tears, but before he could run out of the room or hide under the bed, you opened your arms, gently offering him the solace within. And he, being the selfish, contemptuous creature that he was, didn’t deny himself what he wasn’t worthy of.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, petting his hair softly, while the other hand was – as always – mindful of the scars on his back. “It was a dream, my love. You’re safe here with us.”

His body shook with quiet sobs as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the soothing scent of your skin and your blood singing to him just beneath. He saw again before his eyes the way Cazador looked at him before he bit you, right in this place he was now so close to…

To give away one person who, for some strange reason, saw good in a filthy worm like him…

“I’m sorry,” Astarion choked out, finding his voice at last, which made you pause in your ministrations. “I’m so sorry f-for not doing anything… He…”

You were quiet for a couple of seconds, but then Astarion felt the most tender touch of your lips on the crown of his head, and he buried his face more into your chest.

“I’m here, darling,” you whispered. “Whatever you saw, it wasn’t real.”

He didn’t answer, instead lifting his arm and tentatively brushing his fingers just underneath your shirt. He didn’t feel any scars mirroring his own, but could still see the blood flowing from your back and down your legs, could still hear your painful scream… It brought fresh tears to his eyes again.

“I… I swear, I would never do that,” he attempted to explain himself, but his words came out in a pathetic sob, and he shook his head again, curling in on himself. “He– he was lying. I’d never…”

A fresh wave of tears wetted your shirt, but you didn’t seem to mind as you gently rocked him back and forth, cradling him safe in your arms. Old Astarion would probably scoff at the condescending action of being treated like an infant, but he knew better now. He still found it difficult, but with you at his side he was learning what true care and affection looked like, and how to accept it. You were always so patient with him, so gentle, never rushing or angry when he couldn’t give you the closeness and intimacy you deserved. Astarion loved that about you – even if he wasn’t ready to say it out loud just yet.

“My star…” you hesitated, but ultimately asked, “what did you dream about?”

The vampire took a shaky breath, unable to open his eyes or speak about what he saw. Instead, he called on the tadpole in his brain and nudged your mind with it, wordlessly asking for permission, which you immediately granted. There was at least one thing the tadpole was good for, he thought as you lived through the nightmare his weak, broken mind had conjured. If by the gods’ grace all of them managed to get rid of the tadpoles and survive this whole ordeal… and if by some miracle you still wanted to stay with him after all was done… Astarion knew he would have to learn how to communicate his feelings on his own. But not tonight. Not tonight.

You didn’t say anything for a long while, only continuing to hold him close to your chest. In this position he could hear the soothing beat of your heart, proving that he didn’t lead you to Cazador, that he didn’t turn you into a monster like him…

“We’re gonna kill him,” you finally said with your throat tight from emotions. “I promise you, as soon as we get to the Baldur’s Gate, we’ll find him and end him for good.”

Astarion knew what he should say – he should agree, or maybe jest that this is the most romantic thing you’ve ever said, or even argue that it’s not going to be that easy.

But all he could do right now was to continue clinging to you like a child, too afraid to face you.

“I’d never give you away,” he breathed, so quietly that he wasn’t sure you heard it, but he didn’t care. “Even if I had to suffer another two hundred years. I’d never–”

“I know, my darling,” you whispered back, and Astarion felt your own tears disappearing in his white locks. He still couldn’t believe why someone like you would waste your tears on him of all people, and it caused a new kind of pain to bloom in his chest. “And you’re not those things he told you. You’re… you’re everything to me, Astarion. Everything.”

Astarion wondered if he’d ever believe that. You proved to him time and time again that you can make anything possible, even change the worldview of someone like him… but with Cazador’s threat still looming, he didn’t have it in him to try and convince himself of your words.

Maybe after the bastard's dead, he concluded. Maybe then it’ll get easier and he can finally start becoming someone deserving of you.

You stirred slightly, breaking him out of his musings. Astarion hugged you tighter, sharply stopping you from moving away.

“Please. Don’t go.”

You just leaned back on the pillow and kissed his head gently again. Astarion felt the tension in his body melting away just a little, but the tears welled up again in his eyes.

“I won’t. Promise.”

And you kept your promise. Astarion didn’t fall asleep again, but your constant heartbeat under his cheek brought him some semblance of peace as he waited for the sun to rise. It didn’t feel right to let you care for him so much, to gift and envelop him with your love that he didn’t deserve… But it’d be even more wrong to take that choice away from you. He knew all about that, after all, and he'll be damned if he ever treats you the way he was treated.

So Astarion decided that he will let you love him and he will love you in return, for as long as you allow it.

Because, truth be told, he was nothing if not a selfish, contemptuous creature.

[suiana]

(yandere! vampire x afab! reader) (cw: period blood💀, suggestive) (reader is gn but has a uterus)

he is the young lord of a prestigious vampire family family.

honour, money, respect.

he could be everything and anything. his status allows him to do so. and the fact that he's a vampire only makes him so much more powerful.

a young and educated bachelor of a prestigious vampire family.

elegant, smart, educated.

he'd never make a rash decision, always thinking things through before doing anything. careful calculations, masterful deceptions...

that's why he doesn't understand it when his friend tells him that period blood is tasty.

"dude, you've got to try it sometime. like, it's got this tangy taste and-"

"silence! how disgusting are you?"

his face is completely twisted, eyes narrowing as he glares at his friend of 150 years. what on earth is he talking about? tasty? tangy?

his best friend wasn't like this before. he used to be more composed. he'd never say something that vulgar.

ugh, it must be because his friend got that human girlfriend a while back. ever since they started dating... he doesn't even want to think about it. that human must have brainwashed him or something. like period blood? seriously?

...

he can't say much though. he's the same with you too. if you asked him to do something nasty with your blood... i mean, you're his mate! he'll do anything if you asked for it!

"ugh... my cramps are so painful..."

your vampire boyfriend immediately spins his ehad towards you, an alert expression as he teleports to your side to immediately rub at your belly.

"do you need anything, my love?"

"just for my cramps to stop hurting so much."

your boyfriend hates seeing you like this. all in pain, crouching over yourself. curse whoever made periods! how dare they hurt his wonderful lover? he swears that he'll-

"...babe, you're doing the thing again."

oh.

the vampire lord shys away, immediately hiding his fangs as he clears his throat.

"sorry beloved. you know how I get whenever you're in pain. you don't deserve to suffer, you know? I just get so passionate sometimes."

he sighs, shaking his head as he curls up beside you and snuggles up with you. ah, this is perfect- wait a second.

'dude, i don't know whether your mate will allow you to but whenever they get their cramps getting them to orgasm relieves the pain.'

why the hell did he suddenly remember his best friend's words right now?!

ah...

the vampire turns his head towards yours, a pretty pink hue on his cheeks asnhe snuggles you even more. it catches your attention and.. you can't help but raise an eyebrow. what the hell was your boyfriend up to now? did he kill someone in your name again?

"what?"

"you... have cramps right?"

did he hit his head or something?

"yeah? i literally just said it."

your grunt, feeling slightly more snappy than usual because your hormones were fucking everything up. everything was so uncomfortable, and the pain meds weren't helping either. sometimes you wish you could just tear out your uterus and never have to suffer periods ever again.

wait, wait, wait what?

you were pulled out from your thoughts when your boyfriend suddenly stopped hugging you, instead moving his face lower... and lower- hold on, is he in the mood right now?!

"w-wait! what are you doing? i'm on my period dummy!"

"yeah? i know?"

you feel your cheeks heating up as your boyfriend stares at you from in between your legs. what the hell? is he crazy? you know how much of a clean freak he is! he'd never do something so... filthy!

"get out from my legs then?! what if my blood gets-"

"i... heard from my friend that it would help your cramps go away."

he pauses, face blushing as he stares at your pants before glancing back up at your face.

"and you know how much I hate seeing you in pain baby. I don't care if it gets messy."

you could only stare at him in a mixture of embarrassment and horror as he begins to momentarily outfreak you with his behaviour. he's never... done anything like this before. and you know how much he hates getting dirty and so-called 'un-fresh blood'.

he's gone on a rant about how different fresh blood and not fresh blood tastes like before. you vividly remember his disgusted voice and his horrific face as he recounted what his best friend and hiss mate did.

and yet... he's doing the same thing now?!

"hey... you don't have to do it-! I thought you-"

"yeah, but it's fine. I'm doing it for you anyways."

you didn't know what to say to that so you merely sighed and let him do what he wanted to do. you never managed to stop him when he was set on something anyway.

...

so your vampire boyfriend ended up liking it more than he should.

um.

yeah good luck :3

[blackbirdie1234]

Hey!! I love your fic's so much!

Can I request a Jacob x Fem!reader where they are friends but reader has a crush on Jacob. When he shifts he leaves and does what he did to Bella like ignoring her and Billy won't answer the door.

Mutual pinning but neither knows. He imprints on reader.

Thank you so much keep up the great writing :)

Also, I was wondering if you are going to be doing the vampires as well?

Hi!, Thank you so much for the request! I appreciate the kind words <3

I will be doing fanfics for the vampires as well! As of right now I only have the wolves, but I am planning on making a master list for the vamps and Bella. If you want to make a request for them I can definitely do that! I am planning on making a fic for Jasper soon!

A/N: Not proofread! I aged Jacob up a bit, you both are seventeen here. I didn't know exactly how to end this but I think I might do a spin-off series off of this fic so if you are interested in that let me know. Also, sorry for the late posting I am currently sick and going through it lmao. Hope you enjoy <3

Warnings: Jacob being an ass, cursing, angst, Y/N with a backbone.

Wolf’s Out Of The Bag

Jacob Black x Fem!reader

You were staring blankly down at your phone. Ten phone calls, ten phone calls sent to voicemail. Ten desperate, pleading voicemails. No callback, no text, nothing received. You snapped your phone closed and threw it down on the bed.

It had been two weeks since Jacob stormed off from your house after getting into a small disagreement, at least it started off that way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"It's nothing you need to worry about, Jacob," You grumbled with a slight roll of your eyes. Hoping he would drop the subject.

He was giving you an irritated look. You lightly pushed him with your shoulder giving him a small smile.

"I didn't think you'd care that much, it was one date and it's never happening again," you noted with a light-hearted laugh to ease the tension.

He turned to face you, irritation turning to anger. You could actually feel the heat radiating off of his body next to yours.

"Wow you must be really dumb, I mean how could you even think about going on a date with that pig. He's not good enough for you, but then again if you were desperate enough to give him a chance maybe I'm wrong" He barked getting more bitter with each word.

You look at him in shock.

"Why would you say that to me" You said not believing what you were hearing. "It's really none of your business who I go out with, you aren't my bodyguard, you don't have to 'protect' me. When did you get the right to decide who is 'good enough' for me? Huh? You're being a dick and I don't know why but it better change right now." You say sternly. He has never acted like this before and this sudden behavior change is not sitting well with you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jacob left shortly after that. He had gotten so angry he was shaking, you can't even remember the words that were thrown after that. Now, he wasn't answering the phone. Billy said he came down with mono, you didn't know how much you believed it but decided to trust that Billy wouldn't lie to you.

Jacob was your best friend, you loved him a lot. You had never had such an intense fight, you never thought he would react the way he did. You only went on the stupid date to get Jacob out of your head, you thought that maybe you would get over Jacob if you found someone else to pay attention to. You were wrong, no one made you feel the way that Jacob did. Jacob made you feel at home, you couldn't explain why but it was like he was the person you were meant to be with. He was the one who understood you fully and would never judge you for anything you said or did. Until now......

You were deeply hurt by what Jacob said to you, and if he thought that you would get over it he was surely mistaken. He had never said anything more hurtful to you in your entire friendship. You had thought about just letting it go, letting life run its course even if it meant Jacob being out of your life, but you couldn't just sit and let him speak to you that way. You wanted answers. Sitting in your room waiting for him to call and explain was becoming too stressful. You sat there for hours overthinking and no matter what you were doing you were replaying the moment in your mind.

You must be going crazy. At least that's what you were trying to convince yourself after seeing Jacob cliff-jumping with Sam Uley and his gang. You had decided that you would go to La Push, and relax your body and mind on one of the only partly cloudy days in Forks. The skies were pretty clear but there was a storm coming soon, so you decided to do it now. Never in your life did you think you would see what you were seeing now. Are you fucking serious? was all you could think as you drove your car straight to Billy Black's house. You wanted to make sure it was really Jacob, so you went to the man who had told you how 'serious' his condition was in the first place.

As you pulled into the driveway the clouds began covering the sky in a dark grey mass. You hopped out of the car and began walking to the front door, Billy had opened the door as soon as you stepped onto the wood. His face had a mix of concern and confusion as he noticed your agitated expression and the way your chest was slightly heaving from anger.

"Where is he" you say with a grumble.

"He's not here, he went out," He says seriously but looking down a bit not wanting to make eye contact. Billy didn't like lying to you and to your face it was even worse.

Just as you were about to speak you looked to the side and saw that far away down the hill, Jacob stood playfully nudging another man as a few more came out of the woods.

"Don't Y/N" Billy said in warning.

You started stomping down the hill, ignoring Billy's yells. Billy calling your name caught the attention of Jacob, as his face shifted from laughing to completely still. You continued to walk towards Jacob as the rain started, it quickly went from a drizzle to full pouring as you finally reached him.

To say you were fuming would be an understatement.

"What the actual fuck Jacob!" you say basically screaming at the shirtless man, who was now staring directly into your eyes with what looked like pure amazement but you ignored it the best you could, whatever love for him you felt in that moment may have been strong but you were too angry to care so you continued.

"So we have one fight and you ignore me for two weeks?! I called you ten times, ten times Jacob. You couldn't bother picking up the phone at least once, you could've told me you didn't want to be friends but no! You had your daddy lie to me" You say with an angry laugh.

"I thought you were sick Jacob! Too sick to pick up the damn phone and text me! Come to find out you were just having too much fun cliff jumping with the guys we used to make fun of! You know what you can have them, If you want to throw away seventeen years of friendship then be my guest." You say finally taking a breath.

The weight off of your chest feels amazing, but as you finish Jacob falls to his knees. The boys behind him look between you two with pure shock on their faces before they start laughing and smiling. You look up at them shocked and confused thinking they were making fun of you. They start walking away but not before patting Jake on the back. Sam leans down and whispers something to him as he sits there still on his knees staring at you.

"Do you even care about a word I just said to you? You know what never mind if you think this is a joke I might as well leave," You say turning around and starting to walk away.

Jacob suddenly found his voice as he quickly got to his feet and stumbled trying to reach you.

"WAIT! Wait, wait, Y/N please hold on!" He spoke hurriedly. Grasping for your hand and pulling you around. Hand now resting on your waist.

"I am so, so sorry. Please let me explain everything, I promise I won't lie to you anymore. I can explain everything now, just come inside and dry off." He said pleadingly, trying his best to get you to listen to him.

You thought for a moment, you didn't trust him at all but the way he was speaking you knew he was telling the truth to some extent. It was hard for him to lie to you, you know how Jacob works, you know the subtle mannerisms he has when he's not telling the truth. Considering all of this you finally speak.

"Fine, but if things don't add up or I find out you are still lying, I am gone," You say sternly, pulling his hands away from you and walking up the hill.

When you get to the house, Jacob gives you warm tea and a blanket which you take from him without a word. He comes over and sits across from you. He almost reaches for your hand but stops himself.

"The day that I left your house, something changed, I changed...." He claimed, looking at your reaction with a hint of fear but continued "This is going to sound crazy, but you have to believe me on this..... I am a werewolf"

You stared at him for a moment before throwing the blanket off and standing up, Jacob followed suit immediately. You threw him a glare before starting to walk out.

"No, No, Y/N wait!" he shouted after you, reaching out and grabbing your hand. "I am telling the truth let me show you" He spoke as he continued outside your hand still in his.

" I swear Jacob if this is a pra....."

You went dead silent as he began taking his boots, and then his shorts off. Now standing in just his underwear. He gave you a curt nod and then started bending and shaking profusely. You could barely blink before your best friend stood in front of you only he wasn't human anymore, he was a massive wolf.

You jumped back a bit as the wolf started coming towards you, noticing your fear he slowly laid down on the ground and gave out a small whine to signal he would not hurt you. You were in complete shock, how was this possible? Everything you ever heard about the stories of the Quileute tribe growing up was true, and your best friend was living proof. A thousand thoughts ran through your mind, but they were silenced by the wolf standing up and trotting to the back of the house. Jacob then emerged in different clothes than before.

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't tell you Y/N" Jacob expressed, grabbing your hands hesitantly until you leaned into the touch slightly.

"Why couldn't you tell me, you know I would never judge you, nor would I ever tell anyone " You pressed before giving him a confused stare "Wait why are you telling me now?"

He looked at you a gave you a crooked smile.

"It's one of the rules that came with the gig" He laughs a bit before pulling you a bit closer. "The reason I can tell you now is because you are my soulmate," He says beaming down at you.

You stare up at him with a bewildered expression.

"I'm your what?" you say breathing out.

"You are my imprint, Y/N. It's a wolf's soulmate, it is the reason for their existence, you feel like it isn't gravity holding you to the ground anymore, it's them. You can be anything the imprint wants you to be, a friend, a protector, a lover, all that matters is that the two are connected. Like vines on trees overlapping each other both on the same path, interlocked." He pauses, putting his hand on your face and caressing your cheek gently.

"I know this might be overwhelming and a lot to handle. I really want you to know how deeply sorry I am for everything that I said. I'm not going to sit here and blame it all on the wolf because it wasn't, I was jealous. I was jealous that you went on that date with someone that wasn't me and I didn't mean a word that I said about you. I'm going to be fully honest with you from now on, starting with the fact that I have been in love with you since the second grade. I know that trusting me will take time, but I am willing to do whatever it takes to earn it back. I understand that I have hurt you, so it might take a very long time but I will always be there for you. Everything is up to you, I understand if you want to reject the connection. The connection can be anything you want it to be, but I really truly do not want to lose you and the past two weeks without you have been hell on earth for me. I'm just really sorry Y/N." He pleads letting go of your hands and allowing you to process.

"I... I love you too Jacob. I have for a while now. I'm not going to forgive you easily but I am glad you understand how much you have hurt me. I am willing to give this a shot, mainly because I can feel the connection and would be an idiot if I said that I didn't." You laugh a bit as he looks at you with the biggest smile on his face.

"But if you ever say or do that to me again I will put you in a dog house and leave you there," You say with an evil smile laughing at the way his face drops before he joins in.

You two get out of the rain and drive separately to Emily's house where you meet the pack and they explain in much more detail what being a wolf really entails. You and Emily become quick friends, and as the days go on you slowly fall into a routine that is pure chaos but you wouldn't have it any other way. You and Jacob work on your relationship, slowly building back trust and falling deeper and deeper into love with each other. You have fully accepted your place in a world filled with wolves and life seems to be going great, that is until they tell you exactly why they turn into the big ferocious beasts....... there are vampires in Forks.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Gala, But It's Not Wayne, It's Masters

This just lives rent-free in my brain, so I'm here to share. And maybe get help.

Batfam probably don't only go to galas and events in Gotham, right. Bryce Wayne is a rich bitch and WE has contracts and ties around the world, so Wayne Wards have to attend events out of state (and out of country) from time to time. This time, they are invited by Vladimir Masters, the owner of DalvCo.

Coincidentally, Vladimir Masters is rumored to have some hidden Kryptonite stash. So Bruce decides to go, taking some of his kids with him, because it is also rumored that Masters has two wards of his own, and, first, Bruce has to bring his kids for disguise, second, he needs them for some team building, bonding and whatnot, and last, he really needs to check if Masters' children are living in a safe environment. Cue all his family making fun of him for wanting to adopt more kids.

What makes the jokes even worse is that both Master's kids have black hair and blue eyes.

When they arrive, they are greeted with a sight of a full-sized gothic castle. It looks really out of place in Illinois, but the vampire vibes are there, definitely. And said vibes only become stronger when they meet Vladimir and his kids - all three of them are giving the Batfam goosebumps, and not in a good way. Now, the things capable of giving Bats goosebumps are very, very limited. And never good.

Vladimir - he insists they call him Vlad - is a fairly tall, gray-haired man with piercing eyes. His smile is nice and polite, but it kind of reminds Tim of Ra's, which is, well, not a good thing. But overall, he is... Okay. They can definitely take him down if they need to (they really can't, but they don't know it).

The kids, though. They are twins, probably fifteen or sixteen, a boy and a girl, and they look like they came straight from a horror movie. Calm and even, mirroring each other's gestures and finishing each other's sentences, no facial expressions, and they don't seem to be blinking. Cass has a hard time getting anything from the way they hold themselves - they seem to only show any kind of emotion when they are addressed. Damian can't shake off a feeling of being watched, even though the twins barely look at him. Tim, raised in a family of socialites, notices how both of them have really nice manners, the kind you learn when someone teaches you etiquette specifically.

Bruce is unnerved by the sight. Are the kids mind controlled? Are they okay? This is definitely not how kids should act at fifteen at a gala, holy shit. Granted, he's seen not that many kids at galas, but the point still stands.

Now, at this point, I have a few ways this can go. First one, the suffering orphans way, Danny and Dani are actually controlled by Vlad, who wanted perfect heirs. Second, the little shits way, Danny made a deal with Vlad to attend a gala and Dani joined him, so now they are having fun with acting as eerie as possible since Vlad strictly forbidden them from shenanigans. This can be either redeemed Vlad or not. Third, the demonic twins' way, where Vlad is definitely redeemed and is taking care of the Fenton kids, raising them however he sees fit. Jazz is also under his care, but she is mostly an adult now, and they have more of a 'caretaker on paper and legally not old enough to live on her own' relationship than a 'parent and daughter' one.

Do the Waynes befriend them? Do Bats get caught while investigating? Do Danny and Dani cause trouble at the gala? Maybe they get to prove to Bruce that they are, indeed, perfectly happy about living with Vlad?

Inspired by this art

[woewriting]

bloodlines

pairing: wednesday addams | vampire reader word count: 1595 warnings: mdni, +18 only! blood mention/drinking, reader's a vampire duh, no pronouns used, thigh riding, small master x pet dynamics at the end. a/n: first wdw in weeks... just a small thing for my vampire fellas.

masterlist

Your leg bounced up and down, the almost inaudible sound of the heel of your shoes hitting the wooden floor annoying the girl sitting next to you on the bed, the movements of your legs and the way you chewed on your bottom lip enough to get her annoyed.

Closing the book, Wednesday turned to you, eyes alternating between the irritating move and your features.

“Can you stop with that infuriating sound? It’s distracting me.”

“Uh?” You look at Wednesday, eyes darting from yours to your bouncing leg in a silent answer. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice it.”

“Now that you do, stop it.”

“I can’t control it.”

Wednesday took a deep breath, bringing her hand to rest on top of your knee, forcing you to stop. Somehow, your leg was still shaking under her touch and now, a heatwave spread inside your body at the sudden touch, a bright red color threatening to take over your vision, a sharp pain in your gums.

You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths and trying to take control over your instincts. But Addams being so close to you with her almost unnoticeable perfume and hand on your thigh, it was hard and any small thing coming from her was enough to get you to lose control.

“You’re starving, aren’t you?” All you could do was nod, not wanting her to see the sharp fangs that sunk on the inside of your mouth. Removing her hand from your leg, you felt a weight being placed on top of your body instead. “Open your eyes, let me take a look at them.”

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head.

“I wasn’t asking. Open them now and look at me.”

Despise the calming way she spoke, her words and demanding tone were enough to get you to do as you were told, unable to resist the smell she had; It was like a spell placed on you.

Wednesday brought her hands to your face, opening your lips to see the sharp fangs you were hiding, pressing the tip of a finger under one, a single drop of raven blood poking out of the small wound was enough to cover your lower lip with her movement.

“Wends…” You warned with a hoarse voice, controlling the impulse to lick the sweet blood off of your lip.

The dark, silky sheets under your hands ripping off around your nails, stopping you from digging the skin of her waist. Knowing Wednesday, she would definitely make you pay for a new set.

Ignoring the warning timbre in your voice, Wednesday opened her white blouse, dragging the fabric away from her shoulder area along with the strip of her bra.

“Take it.”

“No.”

“If you want to keep that snarky tongue of yours, I suggest you to stop fighting and just do as I am telling you to.”

The second you focused on the cold, pale skin, of her neck, everything around you turned red, melting as you caught the sound of her blood flowing through her body, the steady pace of her heartbeat, muffling every small sound that surrounded the both of you.

All you could hear, see and smell, came from the small girl sitting on your lap. And that was all that matters.

The red, warm, sweet blood that kept her alive. The blood of a Raven, Wednesday being the last one of her bloodline known to you.

Noticing the lack of motion coming from your frozen body, the Addams girl gently tugged you by the back of your head, bringing you closer to her.

“Take it.” She whispered; fingers lost in your hair. “It’s all yours.”

“All mine…” You replied, lost in your red reality, barely processing what left her lips, all you could hear, loud and clear, was the pumping of her jugular, the sweet blood rushing through her veins.

Leaning in, your nose brushed on the cold skin, taking a deep breath. The ghostly touch causing the other to close her eyes. You opened your mouth, enough for the tip of your tongue to touch her, a surprised sigh coming from Wednesday.

“I profoundly hate when you do that.”

“Are you sure? Because I can hear every beat of your heart.” You placed a kissed near her collarbones. “And the way your thighs are pressing against mine.” Another kiss, a little bit higher.

“Stop talking. It’s an order.”

You laughed against her, hands slowly moving from the silky sheets to her thighs. “You’re in no place to boss me around, Addams.”

“I thought you enjoyed being my little pet.”

“I enjoy more when you’re my prey.”

Looking into your eyes, Wednesday could barely see the color of it, dark red mixed with golden strings covering most of your iris, pupils dilated in a black color. The veins under your eyes, disappearing and appearing as if it was following the beat of a music, little did she know it was synchronized with her own heartbeat.

It always felt like that, to be under her spell, if felt paralyzing, something in the way Wednesday smelled and tasted like, so sweet it was like drinking honey.

For her, having your teeth sinking in her neck, poison spreading through your saliva turning the pain into pleasure in just a few seconds. She would never admit, but being your personal blood bag made the pain settle in between her thighs.

She needed you as much as you needed her.

Why else would she sit on your lap and keep you around? Allowing you to follow every single step of hers like a lost puppy, holding you on a tight leash, stopping you from biting others like a misbehaved puppy.

Gulping, she licked her lips, your eyes following every single movement of her body. She felt like an addicted waiting for the next jet of poison, it’s been days since the last time you fed on her.

“Did you drink from somebody else?” You shook your head. You tried to, actually, blood bags, human blood straight from the vein, animal blood that you captured with Eugene’s help; they all tasted like garbage. “Then why are you refusing to do as I tell you to?”

“Because I don’t want to hurt you.”

A small grin tugged on her lips. “I want you to hurt me.”

A gush of adrenaline ran in the veins under your eyes the second you heard her whisper, eyes filled with a specific glow that you almost never see in Wednesday: excitement.

The moment your fangs dug in the cold skin, a low moan escaped between Wednesday’s parted lips, the fingers in your hair pulling you impossible closer. The hot, thick red liquid filled your mouth, the iron taste almost unnoticeable, being replaced by a sweet taste that only she had.

Throwing her head back in an attempt to give you more access to her neck, she didn’t even notice that small rhythm her hips were following against your legs, rubbing herself on you. Her scent, stronger than ever, filling every centimeter of your lungs like smoke.

Moving your hands to her hips, you bruised the covered skin as you helped her steady movements. Opening her lips to take a deep breath soon became a breathless moan, your name escaping her parted lips as you drank more and more from her, the poison spreading through her veins as you lick the open wound, capturing what escaped from your hungry mouth before biting her again.

Wednesday was weak in your arms, the hot feeling in the pit of her stomach getting hotter and hotter as she rounded her hips on your leg, a wet stain on the fabric of your jeans as she came, eyes rolling to the back of her head and body falling back, being held by your hands.

Switching positions, you laid the small girl on her bed, dark silky sheets embracing her body as you laid on top of her to lick around her neck, not wasting a single drop of the precious blood that you couldn’t go without.

Kissing your way up to her face, Addams still had her eyes closed, a fainted reddish color spread on her cheeks as she came down from her high. When she opened her eyes, she was met with your golden ones, shining like a star in the night sky. She caressed your face, thumb swiping your lips to collect the thick liquid that covered them before gently sucking on them, maintaining the eye contact; a satisfied hum in her throat.

“Kiss me. I want to taste my blood on your tongue.”

As she commanded, you connected your lips together in a kiss that was soft at first, turning to bruising and desperate as her legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you in, lips wrapping around your tongue to get more of it before she breaks the kiss, hands moving to your shoulders.

“What are you doing?” You asked, confused, as she tried to push you down, but you, being stronger than her, didn’t move an inch.

“I need your tongue somewhere else, and I need it now, so be a good pet and collaborate with me.”

Wednesday was nearly screaming inside, her weak body in desperate need of you, one of the collateral damages from your poison. And the way you smelled, the way your hands touch her body, it was a lot more than just the venom that rushed in her veins, there was something else in the brownish glow that stared at you. You smiled.

“As you wish, master.”

[beansprean]

somebody please go play mario party with derek and answer all his questions

My Familiar’s Ghost Masterpost Masterpost 2

See the latest pages on Patreon!

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Waist up of vampire Guillermo with his hands held out palm-up, eyes closed in concentration. With an unsure expression, he stutters out, 'I, Guillermo de-uh, Guillermo the Great, am calling out in the ether...' Behind him, Nandor pumps two encouraging fists and demands, 'More vibrato!' 2. Close up on Nandor, eyes closed and shaking a decisive fist, as he continues: 'You must call out across your mind, find connections, and reach out to them with a strong hand-' From offscreen, an excited voice interrupts, 'Yo, Guillermo!' 3. Shoulders up of Guillermo in the foreground with a pleased if awkward smile as an ether bubble containing Derek appears above his palms. Derek is wearing a mesh shirt and holding switch controllers in each hand. In the background, Nandor whips around with a shocked and definitely not jealous expression when he sees who Guillermo reached out to. Guillermo greets, 'Hey, Derek.' Derek grins and replies, 'It's good to see you in one piece, dude! Nice glasses.' Guillermo: 'Thanks.' Derek: 'I've been texting you, but-' Guillermo: 'I had to get a new number. But you can just call me through the ether, I guess.' 4. Waist up of Guillermo and Nandor; Nandor steps up into frame, expression schooled into aloofness, and flaps his arm through Derek's bubble, cutting off his 'the what?' response and breaking the connection. Guillermo jerks back in surprise, Nandor's hand cutting very close to his face and ruffling his carefully curled hair. Nandor says dismissively, 'Okay, bye-bye Dick, talk to you later!' 5. Repeat. Nandor looks toward Guillermo, flapping hand now smoothing down the hair he had disturbed, and says, 'Very good job, Guillermo, you have mastered the ether, etcetera.' Guillermo freezes at the touch, squeezing his hands together over his stomach and pressing his lips together tightly, face flushed. Green trickles of los goosebumps appear around him, but are overtaken by a pink glow and a little red heart. /end ID

[crushmeeren]

࿐ okay little bats! this is part one of vampire week! shinsou is up first, inumaki’s version can be found here.

࿐ master list link ⇢ ⇢ ⇢ ⋆ FEM READER ⋆

⋆ ⬪ KINKS INCLUDED ࿐ biting, blood play, exhibitionism, praise/degradation, sadism/masochism ish?, mild body horror (I think, correct me if I’m wrong).

⋆ ⬪ please keep in mind in case it triggers you, hitoshi and reader save someone from being assaulted. It’s not at all graphic and is over in a split second, but I wanted to warn you just in case!

⇢ ⇢ ⇢ @sikuthealien ࿐ kinktober master list

┊ ༝ ᭝ ༝ short summary ༝ ᭝ ༝ ┊ ‣ ‣ ‣ ‣ Hitoshi is the only other vampire that works at the bar with you. In fact, you’re two of the only vamps in town. It’s kind of isolating, but you have each other to lean on. You’ve resisted sleeping with him for fear of losing you’re only vampire companion, but when the shitty drunk regular takes it too far you and Hitoshi decide to…. “take care of him”. And each other.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

“Oi! I’m talkin’ to ya, fuckin’ blood sucker. Gimme ‘nother rum and whiskey!” The drunkard slams his empty glass down onto the sticky wooden bar top, words slurring incomprehensibly as he orders incorrectly. Fucking idiot.

You swallow the snarl building in the back of your throat at his pathetic attempt to insult you. As if a low life, alcoholic human could rattle you. You grit your teeth enough to make them creak under the pressure, and you barely hold back from crushing the glass your currently drying off.

You swear, if one more trashed bastard pisses you off, you’re tearing this bar apart and draining them all of their blood. Consequences be damned.

You glance at the clock on the wall above you and sigh deeply.

You wonder where the hell Hitoshi is, because it’d be real damn nice if he were to show up on time for his shift, but the probability of that happening in this lifetime is slim to none.

Regardless, the annoying man behind you, who’s started to shake the ice in his glass obnoxiously, is unfortunately a paying customer. You take a fortifying breath to calm the furious simmer in your belly and twirl around to face said idiot.

You shoot the regular, Tom, with your fakest smile, taking care to display the full length of your razor blade like fangs. After all, you do want to remind him who he’s speaking to, and that you’re quite able to rip the head from his shoulders if you see fit.

The teasing imagery of your daydream about it makes the predator in you twitch in anticipation.

“You want a double whiskey on the rocks with coke, right Tom?” Your voice drips with condescension as you correct his order, tone sickly sweet in a way that’s so obviously insincere.

Tom’s stare flickers down to your teeth briefly before returning to your face, sniffing once and straightening his spine.

“S’what I said, ain’t it?”

Your lips quirk briefly.

“Sure thing.”

Your expression falls flat as you turn to the rows of liquor behind you and begin making his drink. To your unending frustration, Tom begins to speak once more. He spews his hate at your back, tone conveying false bravado now that he’s not face to face with a vampire.

“Ya know, you’d be awfully pr’tty if you weren’t a vamp,” he spits the last word as if it’s a curse. “Maybe if ya wore smaller shorts, I’d bend ya ov’r the bar right here doll.”

The undead heart in your chest would be jackrabbiting in rage if you were still alive.

You whip around with a face like thunder, slamming the glass onto the bar top hard enough it splinters with cracks. Tom’s mouth drops open and the potent scent of fear clouds around you.

With your lip curled and tension crackling in the air, you lean across the bar into Tom’s space, eyes itching to fade to complete black and tear him a new asshole when a deep voice pipes up from your left.

“Aw Tom, I didn’t know you were into men. I’m flattered really, I am, but I just love pussy too much,” Hitoshi chimes in, coming to a stand still by your side and placing a hand on his chest in fake endearment.

Your eyes widen in surprise, fading back to their normal color, and flicker over to Hitoshi. You slowly unclench your fingers from the glass in relief when you realize it’s your friend coming to your aid.

Tom’s face turns bright red and splotchy, mouth twisting in anger. “I was talkin’ bout her, ya fu—,”

Hitoshi cuts him off.

“You said if she “wasn’t a vamp”, right? Well I’m one too, so seems to me like you’re implying that if I wore booty shorts you’d bend me over this bar just the same.” Hitoshi taps the wood with his knuckles and grins lazily as Tom stutters over his words, becoming even more enraged.

Tom glances at you before seemingly deciding he’s got no rebuttal and won’t win this fight. He snatches the whiskey and coke from the bar top before glaring at Hitoshi with a look that could kill. But, as usual, Hitoshi remains cool and unbothered.

“Fuck you, Shinsou.” With that, Tom scurries back to his table of dumbasses and you raise an eyebrow at Hitoshi, grinning in satisfaction and failing to hold back your snort of laughter.

“I thought you said you didn’t want to fuck me?” Hitoshi calls after him, raising his voice enough that other patrons look at him curiously. Tom doesn’t spare Hitoshi another look. You laugh harder, hand coming to rest on your fellow vampires shoulder, and Hitoshi smiles at you in amusement, lids lowering slightly with affection.

“Thanks,” you say through a laugh, wiping a fake tear from your eye. “He’s such a fucking idiot, we aren’t even the only supernatural creatures in this town. I don’t know why he singles us out.”

“He probably wants to be a vampire and secretly loathes himself for it. Or he just wishes he could be as pretty as you.” Hitoshi gently bumps his shoulder with yours, playfully smirking. You roll your eyes, but the echo of what you remember butterflies to be, flutters in your belly.

You roughly jab his stomach with your elbow and watch as he pretends to curl over with a fake gasp of pain.

“I think you may be the one who’s an idiot, Hitoshi.”

“So rude! I saved your ass from having to sleep with vamphobic Tom!”

“Vamphobic?” You ask incredulously, then scoff. “You say that as if I don’t have the strength to drink all his blood and rip him to shreds without flinching. Are you doubting me?”

Hitoshi sends a smug half smile your way, one sharp fang poking out over his bottom lip. “Nah, but I’d enjoy watching that play out more than I should, if you know what I mean. My pants would be way too tight for the interview I’d have to give to the police afterwards about why you murdered someone.”

You ignore his nasty, but not unwanted comment, playfully baring your fangs and punching him in the shoulder before commanding him to get back to work. Hitoshi does, but not before sending you a wink. His relentless flirting would make you blush to the tips of your pointy ears if you still retained that ability.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

After that, Tom doesn’t bother you directly for the rest of the night. And he avoids Shinsou like the plague, going to your very much human coworker at the bar to satiate his alcoholism. He does keep sending you searing glares, but you could not give less of a fuck if you tried.

You’d ban him if the owner would allow you, but he’s a human who’s standoffish towards supernatural creatures on a good day, and he rightfully assumes you can take care of yourself.

Which, to be fair, you can, but it’s the principle of allowing someone to treat you so shitty and letting him get away with it that bothers you. Even if you are a vampire.

With an annoyed huff, you at least attempt to look friendly as you set down a drink for another customer, grabbing their offered money and handing them change before they walk away.

You lean your hip against the bar and cross your arms, taking advantage of the lull to study Hitoshi as he works along side you. You notice that he’s still unfairly handsome when viewing him from the side and you can see just how tall the fucker is. Your gaze traces the long lean line of his body and how deft fingers mix drinks without spilling a drop.

You frown in some sort of misplaced jealousy when he teases his current customer and makes her giggle, sending her a cat like grin that has her blushing. Hitoshi must feel you burning holes into the side of his skull, because he turns to you after she leaves and wiggles his eyebrows at you.

You frown even harder and switch your attention to refilling the ice underneath the bar. You make your way to the back and locate the ice machine, the biting cold not affecting you in the slightest as you scoop the frozen cubes it into a bucket. Your skin’s only a couple degrees warmer anyways, if that.

It doesn’t surprise you when your thoughts start wander as you complete the mindless task. You recall how you met Hitoshi when you moved to town a couple years ago, longing to be free of the big city and closer to the vast wilderness.

You’d ventured into a little diner in town that serves supernatural creatures exclusively, and you’d ended up sitting next to the handsome man at the bar, too absorbed in your own world to realize you’d sat down next to another vampire.

Hitoshi had instantly noticed that you were of the same species, introducing himself with a lazy smile and mentioning he was surprised to meet another vamp in town. Especially someone new because there were so few of you around here.

You’d ended up chatting with him until the sun threatened to rise and incinerate both of you. You had exchanged numbers and eventually he offered to secure you a spot at the bar he worked at. He said that they were friendlier to vampires than most of the other bars in town, and that you’d earn pretty decent money there.

When you stared at him in shock and asked why, he just shrugged and smiled knowingly, saying “vamps have to stick together, right?”

You’d had a fat fucking crush on him since then. But, begrudgingly, you’d decided not to do anything about it. The risk wouldn’t be worth losing such a pillar in your life because you spend too much time daydreaming about sitting on Hitoshi’s cock.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

The rest of the evening passes smoothly. Tom managed to leave without a scene, and now you’re closing down the bar with Hitoshi. You’ve checked off almost every chore of cleaning up front, finishing up with mopping the sticky floor, and Hitoshi was in the back. You can hear him loudly counting the cash from the registers before he deposits it in the safe hidden in the managers office.

You had just gotten done pouring the filthy mop water down the drain when Hitoshi snuck up behind you and dug his fingers into your ribs. You shoot up straight with a yelp, eyes shifting to pitch black and nails sharpening into points as you spin and try to claw at the face of your assailant.

Hitoshi ducks with a laugh, easily avoiding the assault and hopping backwards out of your reach. A warning rumbles lowly in your chest and you sneer at the sneaky vamp. He doesn’t rise to the bait, just tilts his head back in delighted laughter as you click your tongue behind your teeth in annoyance.

You crack your neck and allow your features to return to what they once were and roll your eyes so hard you think they may get stuck in your skull.

“You’re such a dick Hitoshi!” You complain, ready to send him flying through the wall if he keeps it up.

“C’mon,” he taunts. “You don’t normally let me sneak up behind you like that.” He saunters up close to you now that the threat of his eyeballs being ripped out has disappeared. “Something on your mind?” Hitoshi tilts his head to stare down at you, eyes glinting in a way that tells you he probably has an idea of what you were distracted by.

You purse your lips and slip past Hitoshi to get to your locker and gather your things. You vehemently remind yourself that Hitoshi cannot actually read your mind, and there’s no way in hell you’re admitting to your silly daydream of him fucking you on the bar top, fangs embedded deep in your throat.

“No,” you emphasize as you slam your locker shut. “I’m just starving, that’s all.”

“Uh huh, sure.”

“I am,” you insist, staking him with your best glare.

He smirks, pretending to be nonchalant as he stretches his arms above his head.

“Well since you’re practically withering away from starvation, do you want to get a bite to eat with me before the sun comes up?”

Your eyes narrow. “Were you planning on heading out to the forest?”

“Yep,” he confirms, popping the p and dropping his arms to his sides.

You debate it, but ultimately you agree to go with him, as long as you hurry because there’s only a couple hours left until sun rise. Hitoshi replies with a “yes mother,” and gestures for you to go first, looking entirely too smug, and follows closely behind you as you exit the bar, locking it before you leave.

The forest isn’t far, and with how fast the two of you are, you’re there in seconds and lingering at the edge of the tree line. Your limbs tingle with adrenaline the way they always do right before going on a hunt with Hitoshi.

“Ready slow poke?” He jokes, eyes crinkling as he grins widely and shifts into a stance that will allow him to take off like a shot.

You scoff but smile nonetheless. “You’re not going to win this race Toshi.”

“We’ll see. Loser has to mop the front for the next week?”

Before you can protest, Hitoshi is gone. You curse and take off after him, a delighted peal of laughter leaving you once you catch up and witness him tripping over a branch.

You catch your first animal before he does, effectively crowning you the winner of the bet.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

You’re borderline painfully full and extremely satiated as you and Hitoshi make your way back into town.

You had somewhat tried not to make a mess of yourself, but had given up after drinking your first animal made you giddy. Blood now stains your mouth and chin, dying your neck a deep red and soaks your clothes. Your hands and arms also look as if they’ve been dunked in red paint.

Hitoshi doesn’t fair much better, and you find your gaze lingering on him for far longer than is comfortable.

It’s difficult to ignore the way your lower belly swirls with arousal when Hitoshi looks so high from the hunt. Eyes wide and wild as he runs a hand through his hair and paints it crimson. You swallow drily when his lips stretch into a manic grin.

The two of you chatter excitedly, trekking back through town towards the direction of your respective homes. There’s no need for a car when you can run everywhere.

You make it close to a hundred feet from the bar when the sounds of a struggle make your ears perk up, clothes rustling and a faint sobbing cutting through the air. You freeze in place, sharing a concerned look with Hitoshi as he does the same.

“You hear that?” You whisper, and Hitoshi nods.

“Yeah, it sounds like…” Hitoshi trails off as he strains to listen, head jerking back in surprise and eyes widening. “It fucking sounds like Tom!”

Your jaw drops open. “Holy shit, it is! What the fuck is he doing?” You hiss, nails resharpening and eyes fading black until no white remains. One peak at Hitoshi shows his body reacting the exact same.

Within a second, you and Hitoshi are at the entrance to the alleyway by the bar, a gust of wind being propelled down the alley as you skid to a stop.

You find Tom, the bar regular, pinning a petrified women to the brick wall. He’s got a knife pressed to her throat as tears stream down her face. The bitter scent of her fear is so strong your nose scrunches, and her racing pulse pounds in your ears.

Tom’s other hand is tugging the sleeve of her shirt over her shoulder, but stops as he turns to the alley entrance in annoyance at the sudden disturbance.

He drops the knife in shock when he notices just who has interrupted him, his own heart skipping a beat or two as he takes you in.

You know the moon and street lamps must paint you and Hitoshi in a terrifying light. The two of you look as if you’ve just returned from a massacre. Eyes soulless and calculating, black veins branching out to your temples and down your cheeks.

Tom gasps once he catches a real look at you, frantically taking a few steps back from the women who appears as if she’s stopped breathing to seem invisible. She trembles, nails grating against the brick wall behind as she silently slides down to sit in the gravel.

“W-what the fuck are you two doing here?” Tom stutters, instinctively shifting so his back is facing away from the looming threat. You grin, a sick sense of satisfaction swelling in your stomach, and the lingering bloodlust of hunting down your prey makes your fingers twitch. You can help this lady and scare the hell out of Tom at the same time.

Before Tom can blink, you’re standing in front of him, gripping his throat and digging your nails in as you lift him until he’s on the very tips of his toes.

“Aw,” you say with a fake pout. “What’s the matter Tom, not happy to see us? Ha, you’re scared of Toshi and I, aren’t you? But why? We’re just a couple of filthy fucking vamps after all,” you sneer, nails piercing his skin and sending rivulets of blood down his throat. He scrambles to hang onto your wrist, vigorously shaking his head no as his face turns red.

Hitoshi appears next to you. “What the fuck were you doing to that poor lady Tom?” He smiles with a crazed look in his eyes, clearly a beast playing with its food. “You aren’t hurting her, are you? Cuz that’d make me awfully angry if you were.”

Tom tries to speak, but you squeeze your hand against his trachea and he chokes, wheezing pitifully. He looks terrified, and you’re pretty sure you could get off from it.

“N-no! Fuckin’ let me go!” Tom tries to wriggle free, hand coming up to try and swing at you but he misses and it makes you giggle. You cock your head, eyes alight with excitement.

“Too bad we don’t believe you. You’re the scum on the bottom of my shoe, Tom.”

“Should we kill him?” Hitoshi asks aloud, just to make Tom squirm. Said man’s face loses all its color when you take longer than necessary to pretend to consider it.

“Mm, no, not this time,” you finally answer. Hitoshi pouts when you glance at him. “But we can hurt him,” you reassure, bloodlust pulsating to down your toes. You turn back to Tom and speak in a tone that surely has the hair on the back of his neck standing up. “If either of us catches you at the bar again, I promise you’ll die by the hands of a fucking blood sucker. Do you understand me?”

Tom nods so fast you think his neck might snap.

With a flick of your wrist you’re flinging Tom down the alley way until he collides with the corner of a metal dumpster. His skull hits it with a loud crack, and he crumples to the ground in a heap. His hand flies to the back of his head as he cries out in pain, swaying as he pushes himself to stand on unsteady legs. He stares at you and Hitoshi like a deer in headlights, freezing momentarily before sprinting away with his tail tucked between his legs.

You sigh dejectedly through your nose, grinding your teeth to release some of the energy still blistering inside you, and Hitoshi tends to the sobbing woman nearby. She’s skittish as he helps her to her feet and guides her to her car. He offers to drive her to the hospital or to call the police, but she declines profusely, affirming she’ll go to the police station herself.

As much as she’s grateful, she’s clearly afraid of you and Hitoshi.

The entire ordeal has heat pooling between your legs. The fact that is was a real possibility that you could’ve beaten the shit out of Tom, and the leftover adrenaline from your hunt has your pussy clenching between your legs. You really want to rub your thighs together for some relief.

It doesn’t help in the slightest that Hitoshi seems to be just as worked up. He’s drumming his fingers on his thigh as he walks back to you, too restless to relax enough and allow his features to return to what they normally are, and you’re in the same boat.

“She okay?” You ask, fidgeting in place. You swallow a mouthful of cotton, clenching your jaw to root yourself in place and keep from flinging yourself at your long time friend.

“She’s fine, heading to the police now,” he says distractedly, not hiding the blatant way he drags his eyes up and down your body. The tension between you is thick, starting to blaze, and your frigid skin is a bit more flushed than normal.

Two years of pining is clawing at the back your throat, trying to escape. The way Hitoshi looks in the moonlight, looking as if he’s fucked out from the high of hunting, well, it makes your mouth water.

You’re about to pipe up and tell Hitoshi you need to leave. To go home and stuff yourself with your fingers until you cum picturing him, but then Hitoshi is in your space, crowding you and backing you into the brick wall until it scratches at your skin through your shirt.

You adamantly stare at Hitoshi’s blood soaked t-shirt as you become too shocked to move, but he settles one finger under your chin and applies enough pressure to force your head up to see his sly smile.

“I know we’ve been friends for a long time, but I really wanna fuck you right now,” he murmurs lowly, other hand sliding down to sneak under the hem of your shirt and drag sharp nails over your side. “This is probably a terrible time to admit this, but fuck it.” He slips two fingers into your waistband and tugs you close. “I like you.”

The back of your skull knocks into brick when you look up at him with heavy lidded eyes, arousal ringing through your bones and making your gums ache with the need to bite.

“I like you too, Hitoshi.“

“Yeah?” He drawls, voice smoky and hopeful as a satisfied smile worms its way onto his lips. He drags his nail from your chin down to the hollow of your throat, smoothing his other hand up your stomach and slipping beneath the hem of your bra up to roughly squeeze a handful of your tit.

Your lids flutter while you moan, running your tongue slowly from fang to fang, and Hitoshi tracks the movement with a dark hunger in his eyes.

“You gonna fuck me here in the alley Hitoshi? Where anyone could see?” You tease, fisting the front of his shirt with both hands.

The tension between you coils tight. tight. tight. as you slide your hands over his collarbone, up the back of his neck, and tangle in his soft hair. Hitoshi leans in closer, lips parting on a soft groan as he grabs your hips.

“That’s fucking right I am baby,” he whispers, lips barely brushing yours.

Hitoshi presses his mouth firmly to yours, kissing you hot and slick with a newfound desperation as your lips connect again and again.

One of your fangs catches on Hitoshi’s bottom lip and tears the skin open. He moans like a whore, chest rumbling as the blood consumed earlier has now had enough time to circulate through his veins and flow dark red down his chin. The urge to taste consumes you. You push forward to catch the blood with your tongue, lapping it off his chin with a lustful moan.

Hitoshi hisses, gripping the hair at the nape of your neck and yanks until your skull crashes into the wall, leaving a decent sized dent in its wake. You gasp his name, hands flying up to hold his forearms as he tilts your head to this side, the muscles in your neck straining unpleasantly.

Hitoshi makes a sound of understanding as something dawns on him, and he snickers a little.

“You want it to hurt, don’t you? My little masochist,” Hitoshi taunts, pressing the long line of his body against yours, and you whine. His cock is hard and straining against his zipper, digging harshly into your stomach. “Can I have a bite baby girl? Pretty please?” He teases, tongue dragging up the side of your neck and smearing his blood all over.

“Fuck!” You yelp, a sharp fang nicking you. “Please, yes, make it hurt Hitoshi,” you demand, anticipation making your toes curl in your shoes. He chuckles, ripping your shirt as he yanks it over your shoulder, and you have to fist his shirt again to anchor yourself.

Hitoshi holds you by the waist with one hand, tightens his hold on your hair, and presses a tender kiss to your collarbone before sinking his teeth into the junction of your neck and shoulder.

His fangs slice through your skin like a hot knife to butter, and it hurts so. fucking. much.

Vamps are not meant to bite other vamps.

You scream, uncaring who hears, and your nails cut into Hitoshi’s biceps. The pain is hot and it flares brightly, radiating up to your jaw when Hitoshi sucks deeply. He moans and it vibrates throughout your shoulder.

You thrash in his unrelenting grip, a sob welling up in the back of your throat, but Hitoshi doesn’t let you move. Your pussy throbs, soaking your panties and Hitoshi’s cock keeps jerking in his jeans.

“Hitoshi,” you plead, voice hoarse. “I want you, so fucking bad. Please.” Hitoshi sucks once more to force a whimper out of you before retracting his teeth, the slick sensation of his teeth sliding free from the deep muscle inside your shoulder sends a jolt straight to your clit.

Blood pours from the the open wound on your neck, down your collarbone and the metallic scent makes your mouth water. Hitoshi releases your hair, lapping at the raw wound a few times, and leans back to lick his lips clean with a sigh. His chest rumbles with satisfaction.

Your hand sneaks down to cup his cock through his jeans, squeezing and making him gasp in surprise. Hitoshi tilts his head down to leer at the way you slip your hand under the waistband of his pants, sliding under his briefs and all the way down the smooth skin of his shaft. You squeeze his balls and his hips buck up into your hand, a choked off moan escaping him. Hitoshi grips your jaw tightly, forcing you to look up.

“Don’t tease,” he warns darkly, a few more pitch black veins branching out from his underneath his eyes and snaking down his cheeks.

You smile coyly and free your hand, quickly unbuttoning his pants and yanking them, along with his briefs, down to his mid thighs. His cock bobs free, heavy enough that it smacks his pelvis before settling on sticking straight out. Your pussy aches at the sight, and suddenly you need to run your tongue along the underside of his shaft, to gather the precum beading there, or you might die all over again.

Hitoshi reaches for the back of his shirt and slips it off, dropping it carelessly into a pile by his feet. You start to sink to your knees, intent on fulfilling your own desire, when he snatches your wrist and keeps you upright. You whine loudly in protest and Hitoshi grins lazily in return, the corners of his eyes crinkling at your desperation.

“Later, sweetheart. I’ll take you home and let you suck my cock to your heart’s desire, but right now, I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you.”

With that, Hitoshi effortlessly spins you around and forces you to catch yourself with your palms flat on the brick. He noses at the back of your neck and reaches his hands around to unbutton your shorts. He slips his thumbs into the waistband and yanks until all the material falls to the floor.

You instinctively step out of them, sneakers only getting caught once before you kick them aside. Hitoshi rests a hand on your lower back and pushes, encouraging you to arch and show yourself to him. You do so eagerly, breath hitching when the cool night air hits your slick, sensitive pussy.

Hitoshi reaches down between your thighs to place two fingers on your clit, rubbing slow circles into it that have you digging your forehead into the brick wall. The thumb of his other hand comes up to spread you open more, dragging it down to part the soft lips of your pussy.

“Fuck, you are so soft, it’s driving me insane. That feel good baby?” He coos, playing with your clit a little faster as electricity shoots up your spine. You nod, fingers curling into brick and making some of it crumble.

“Yes, it’s so good. Fuck me, c’mon Hitoshi.”

“Say please,” he chides. “You have manners don’t you?”

“Please, fuck me,” you say through gritted teeth.

“That’s my girl,” he teases, the blunt tip of his cock sliding over you. Hitoshi reaches up and cups the wound on your shoulder, pinching the area until blood wells up in his palm.

You feeeze, goosebumps littering your arms when you hear the slick noise of Hitoshi pumping his cock���.with your blood. A startled laugh bursts out of you.

“You’re fucking nasty Hitoshi,” you say with amusement, forehead pushing further into the wall.

“Yeah,” he confirms with a breathy sigh, nudging his cock against your tight pussy, a slow press of his hips until the tip pops in. “But you’re the whore who loves it.” Hitoshi buries his cock inside you to the hilt, hips smacking into your ass as you cry out from the burning stretch.

“Fuckk,” you groan hoarsely, bracing yourself on your forearms, and Hitoshi snickers. Slender fingers hold tight to your waist as he pulls his hips back, letting his cock create a delicious friction that has you shivering. Then he shoves himself back inside and starts to build a steady rhythm.

“Your pussy’s better than I imagined, oh my fucking god,” Hitoshi says like he can’t quite believe he’s having sex with you.

Hitoshi, unsurprisingly, can read you pretty well, and so, he fucks you like hates you, but he whispers the sweetest praise in your ear at the same time. The pleasure starts to build pathetically quickly behind your belly button, and you drop one hand down to play with your clit.

Hitoshi catches your wrist, reaches for the other one and then leans back and twists. He traps both your hands with one of his and rests your now immobile hands at the small of your back.

His pace doesn’t falter as he tangles fingers in your hair and wrenches your head back a few inches, pushing forward and slamming the side of your face into the brick as pain crackles across your temple.

The moan you let out bounces off the surrounding walls.

“Cum on my cock, or don’t fucking cum at all.” Hitoshi’s voice is like ice, hips starting to snap shallowly as he repeatedly nails your g-spot.

“Fuck!” You cry out. “Okay, okay! Hitoshi, oh my god, make me cum on your cock!” You can tell that the skin on your cheekbone has torn, more blood leaking down and into your mouth.

“That’s what I like to hear, good girl.” Hitoshi frees your hair and preoccupies himself with smacking your ass, never letting go of your wrists. You breath catches, exhaling shakily when he tugs one of your ass cheeks to the side and spits. He rubs the pad of his thumb over your rim and pushes inside.

Your pussy flutters and clings to Hitoshi’s cock like she never wants to let go, and the knot in your lower pelvis unravels furiously as your orgasm pulses through you. Hitoshi whines, dropping your wrists and hooks his thumb even deeper to tug at your rim as he places his free hand near your head.

“Shit, that’s it baby. You’re gonna make me cum,” Hitoshi manages to say between moans. His breath hitches, and then he’s pushing himself in to the hilt as he cock kicks with his release.

It’s silent as Hitoshi rests his forehead on your shoulder and kisses the back of it sweetly while you come back down to earth. The pleasure fades into oversensitivity, and you’re hyper aware of how full you feel and how sticky you still are with blood. You twist one hand behind you and push weakly at his bare stomach.

“Hitoshi, pull out. It’s getting uncomfortable,” you complain, fidgeting slightly.

He groans, but ultimately he bends to your will and pulls free from you with a slick noise. You sigh gently, feeling your features smooth out, and flip around to lean your weight on the wall. Hitoshi’s eyes have turned purple once again, and he looks far more normal now.

Well, as normal as somebody covered in dried blood can.

You start to giggle when you take in the sight of him. He’s an absolute wreck and he rolls his eyes before joining in your laughter.

It’s then that you notice the sky starting to turn pink and Hitoshi’s expression softens considerably.

“Want to stay at my place?” He asks sheepishly, offering you your shorts and underwear. You take them with a grateful smile, sliding them on and grimacing at the filthy sensation of cum in your panties. Hitoshi finishes tucking himself away and you reach a hand out to him. He grins and sweetly laces his fingers with yours.

“I guess sleeping in your bed doesn’t sound like the worst option available.”

Thankfully, once you get to Hitoshi’s blacked out apartment, you’re able to shower and then flop down in his bed and curl into his chest.

Yeah, being two of the only vampires in town isn’t so bad after all.

[fics-a-plenty]

Hurtful Words and Bear Hugs

Astarion x gn!reader x Halsin

Word Count: 1,411

TW: Spoilers for Astarion's story in Act 3, mentions Astarion's victims, reader crying

Hi! It's been awhile!

This game literally has me in a choke hold. I am so weak for these two men. I love that you can have a little romance between the three of you. 🥰

As always, I hope you enjoy. Feel free to send any requests for these two as they own my thoughts at the moment!

The days following their victory over his past master, Astarion had struggled with his thoughts and feelings. He felt terrible for how distant he had become, especially as you tried your best to be supportive. Yourself struggling with how to balance giving him his space and wanting to just hold the lost man until his world seemed to piece itself together again.

The one thing stopping him from his full blow guilt was that Halsin was there to distract you at times. The larger man seemed to have a better grasp on his emotions than Astarion did, always seeming to pull you off to some task that needed your attention just at the right times or to lead you back to Astarion's tent with hands and hearts full from their adventures whenever he felt the weight of loneliness creep back in. The pale elf was even sure that at times the druid spoke to Scratch and the owlbear cub to cause small bits of chaos or demand attention from you when he could no longer keep your focus.

Astarion was especially grateful for the times the three of you could spend time together in peaceful silence, either walking around near the camp or just sitting near the fire while he read next to you as you focused on redoing the braids on the side of Halsin's head. While the days seemed to be getting better, and his heart seemed to fill in the empty spots left behind by his revenge and the past that had lead to it, some days seemed to thrust him right back into the deep of it.

He pretended not to see the sad glances you shot him as you racked your brain for some way to help. He knew you meant well and normally he would appreciate it or tease you for how wrapped around his finger you were, but today it just seemed to be to much. He hadn't meant for the groan of annoyance to leave his lips as you came by his tent for the third time today, wanting to check in on him.

"What is it you could possibly want this time?" He snapped as he slammed his book shut, shooting a glare at you from where he sat in his tent. "If you're coming to see how I'm doing, let me save you the breath. I'm the same as I was the other million times you've interrupted me today. Now do you have something to actually contribute to my time or can I read in peace?"

It took a moment for him to realize just what had been said, and by the time the guilt had built up in his chest, your eyes had gone glossy. You turned your face away, not wanting him to see your tears welling up.

"I was just coming to tell you that Halsin and I were going into the city to get a hot meal. I was gonna see if you wanted to come, but I guess I'll let you read."

He could have sworn that he could hear his cold heart crack at the shake in your voice. His lips parted to apologize, but his throat tightened around the words before they could leave. He sat in silence as he watched you turn to walk back to where Halsin was waiting nearby.

His eyes met the druid's before you got to him. The wood elf's eyes seemed to be conflicted, split between knowing Astarion hadn't truly meant to hurt your feelings and the disappointment that the interaction had gone so wrong. Once the two figures were gone from sight, the vampire let out a deep sigh and tried to go back to his book. The words just wouldn't come to him now, and every thought seemed to lead back to the hurt look on your face.

Tossing the book onto the ground next to him, he ran his hands through his hair, partially wishing that he could physically push the thought to the back of his mind or even out of his brain altogether. Deciding to take a walk around camp, the lingering eyes of the other camp inhabitants pushed him to walk further and further away until the camp faded from view.

He wasn't even sure how long he wandered, lost in the downward spiral his mind had fallen into. The tears in your eyes fading into the tears of the past victims as they realized the pain he had lead into. Visions of the lives he had ruined flooded his mind until he couldn't take it. An almost feral scream ripped from his throat as he swung his fist against the trunk of a tree he had wandered to close to, another innocent victim to the control he didn't have over himself.

The pain pulsing in his hand seemed to help ground him as he fell to lean his back against the hard bark. He would have been a sight to anyone wandering by, the pale elf with a bloody hand resting in the ground. His fangs bared in his open mouth, and his chest heaving to try to catch his breath. The now rising moon beginning to reflect off the streaks of wetness down his face.

As his red eyes stared up at the glowing rock, he began to push through the dark thoughts, trying his best to lock them back in the recesses of his mind they belonged in. The sound of your voice began to ring in his mind, helping to fend off the thoughts of self doubt and hatred that lingered. The countless times you had told him that he was good enough, that he was worth being loved and cherished. The times you had kissed his face until these same bad feelings were long forgotten.

As his heart and breath began to settle, the world seemed to know what he needed in that moment, and the wind shifted to blow gently against his face. His lips curled up slightly as the faintest whisp of your scent kissed his skin as if you were there with him. It dawned on him that in the hours he must have been gone that you were probably running yourself wild with worry. A short laugh forced itself from his lips as he imagined Halsin trying to quell your panic, probably saying something about some time in nature doing him good.

The walk back to camp was much quicker that he imagined, his feet pulling him home faster as your scent got stronger. It lead him straight towards Halsin's tent. The deep sound of the man's snore was almost as if he was walking into a real bear hibernating.

He froze for a moment as he saw you curled up against the bear of an elf. Your hand slowly moving back and forth over the hairy chest being the only sign that you were still awake. His feet moved him toward you before he asked them to, before he could even worry about if you would want to see him. He crawled in carefully behind you, not wanting to wake the other. His hand hovered over your side, hesitating at the thought that you may still be hurt.

Your skin against his brought him back to the moment as you pulled his arm over your waist. You thumb began to move side to side on his wrist, your wordless forgiveness warming his chest and releasing tension that he didn't know he was still holding.

"I'm sorry." The words were so quiet as they left his lips that he wasn't even sure he has really said them.

"I know." The quiet response was just as possible to be a fantasy.

"I didn't-" His throat closed again as you turned to look over your shoulder at him.

"I know." Turning your face back forward, you brought his hand to your lips before squeezing it slightly and clutching it to your chest.

The moment of peace was interrupted by the sleeping druid rolling over and throwing his arm over the two. As his thick arm tightened around them, each you and Astarion let out a groan as you were both crushed into the bear hug. The smiles on the three faces and the quiet laughs drifting from the tent seeming to right every wrong in the world for just the moment as the two of you joined Halsin in a well needed night of rest.

[vampirically-obssesed]

Pistachio flavoured eternity is out now on Ao3

[darklyhandsome]

Just felt like messing around with really soft, sweet Astarion/reader cuddles...

Tags: soft Astarion, emotional hurt/comfort, the reader is any gender you like.

When you walk in the room you see him stood by the window, looking out beyond the rain splattered pane. The tenseness of his shoulders is apparent, the square of his jaw keen. You know he hasn't heard you, even with his heightened vampiric senses; he's too lost in his thoughts, his mournful memories.

Seeking to add a little light to his darkness, you cross the room, lay a gentle hand on his shoulder. He twitches, startled. But, smooth as a cat, he reasserts himself, turning to you with a charming smile.

"Good evening, my sweet. And what a good evening it is, now you're here."

His voice is a velvet brush over your skin, his words sliding down your spine like a contented purr. You love to hear him speak; you'd happily listen to him talk until dawn, content in his arms as he chatters sweet nothings. But you can tell his mood is not entirely amenable; there's a shadow lurking behind his eyes. He's trying to hide his sorrow but you know him too well.

"Is everything all right, my love?" you ask.

His lips turn up at the corners. "Of course. Why wouldn't it be?"

The lightness of his tone belies the tension beneath.

You raise your hand to press your palm to his cheek. His breath catches in his throat, his red eyes glistening in the candlelight. He looks so afraid, brow upturned and lips trembling.

"You can talk to me, yer know," you tell him softly.

He blinks, his long lashes dancing across his cheeks.

You sweep your thumb over the corner of his mouth. He raises his hand, lays it over yours.

"You really are a treasure, aren't you?" he breathes. His voice has the barest hint of a tremor.

"I'm here for you," you tell him gently. "I'll listen."

His eyes search left and right between yours, looking for the trick beneath your facade. But there is no facade; you mean what you say. You know he finds it hard to trust, that he doesn't believe anyone could truly care for him; after all, he's never known it before. But you swear you'll prove it to him, that you care for him more than you'd ever thought possible. You love him.

As he gazes at you indeterminably, you sense something in his eyes give. He bites the inside of his bottom lip, as if he's torn between wanting to believe you care and needing to protect himself. Then he shakes his head.

"Not tonight, my darling. The storm is already upon us and I do not wish to further darken the mood."

You offer him a smile, rub your thumb across his cheek. "Then let me help. Can I hold you?" you ask.

For a second he looks surprised. Then he nods, just a dip of his chin.

You wrap your arms around him, turn your head to rest your cheek against his chest. At first you can feel him tense, but then he relaxes, his arms coming about you too. His hand on the small of your back presses you to him, and you feel his breath in your hair as he presses his face to the top of your head.

You stand like that as seconds pass by, simply being.

"This is... nice," he murmurs, pressing you closer.

You give him a squeeze then step back, offering him a reassuring smile. The smile that shapes his lips is tentative, but it reaches his eyes. Not a facade.

You take him by the hand and lead him towards the bed. "Come. Lie down with me."

"Ooo, what games have you got in mind, my little minx?" He can't resist a chance to flirt but you know he doesn't want sex, not tonight. In another life he would have been forced into performing but you are not his master and he is not your slave. He is free now, and you seek only to comfort.

You step away from him to lie down on the bed, crooking your finger at him to follow. He climbs onto the bed, moving over you on hands and knees, a salacious remark half formed on his lips before you press your finger to his mouth to shush him.

He raises his brows, startled, as you gently push him over onto his side. Lay next to you, he watches, curious, as you snuggle up close, wrapping your arms around him. Laying your head upon his breast, you close your eyes.

"We can just lie like this," you tell him. "I'm here for you."

A soft puff of a laugh bursts from him as he tries to cover his vulnerability. "Just... like this?" He sounds so uncertain, so timid. So different from his usual charm.

"Just like this," you reassure him.

You feel his arms come about you, hear a gentle mmm rumble in his chest.

As the minutes pass by, you feel the tension in him slowly ease. Until eventually he murmurs, "Thank you..."

"There's no need to thank me." You turn your head to press a kiss to his collarbone. "This is us, now. This is how it can be."

As he lays his cheek to the top of your head you can feel him smile.

"Us." His hand softly strokes the length of your back. "I like it."

As evening turns to night, the two of you simply rest together. Content.

[titania-sleeps]

pleaseeee give me more human bloodbag yan x vampire reader :(( i love their angst

i was gonna post this yesterday but i fell asleep before i pressed post anyway i'm glad you enjoy it!! i wasn't sure how many people would like angst with their smut but it's one of my favorite flavors >:3

Like Dust (Sub!Bloodbag!Human!Yandere x Vampire!Reader)

more works featuring Dion: Dion Introduction, Wild Roses and Hawthorns

warning: nsfw, masturbation, messy feelings, minors DNI pls

Dion's day proceeds as normal. He greets you and the sun early in the morning, pushing the curtains aside and allowing the rays of sunshine to fall upon your form. When you awaken, every brush of his skin on your bare skin lingers for more than a second. He dresses you and you leave him for the remainder of the day.

When you are gone, he stands in your room for minutes. Minutes that turn into hours, and then he's suddenly on your sheets, his cheek pressing onto the silk of your pillowcase. Your pillow smells just like the locks of your hair he dreams of placing gentle kisses onto. He closes his eyes and inhales, your warm scent wrapping itself around him.

When he opens his eyes a second later, his breath shakes, and his hand trembles. His fingers trace the lace on your pillowcase, eyes lidded and pondering. If he were another vampire, perhaps you would take him along with you on all your trips. No, but if he were another vampire, you wouldn't feast on him as you do now.

He closes his eyes again, hand trailing down to his stomach, and then a little more. As his hand lazily sneaks its way beneath his waistband, he stifles a soft moan. Perhaps it is because he is surrounded by everything that belongs to you, but when he blinks, he sees a hazy blur that resembles your silhouette.

Dropping his free hand to cover his eyes, he opens his mouth and lets out an unfiltered cackle. Oh, how pitiful he is... like a lonely rabbit abandoned by its owner, hallucinating the presence of its master. He grabs his member with his hand, gripping it tightly.

At this moment, he can't help but let himself imagine the unforgivable. The thought that, in this very room, it could be you and him in this bed instead of him alone, and your hands on him instead of his own. What would your touch feel like? Maybe you'd be gentle with him, a graceful smile on your countenance as you bring him to the pinnacle of his pleasure. Or maybe you'd be like a blessing from the hells, skillfully bringing him to the edge only to push him back into his abyss of yearning and endless wanting.

His hand begins to move before he is conscious of it. It strokes lightly up his length first and he chokes back a licentious groan. He is blinking and in every empty moment, he forms you in his mind. His hand is your hand, and suddenly it's you that is caressing him so harshly, so softly.

"Ngh... Ah..." he whimpers, as the pace of his hand quickens in his underwear.

You are there, ever so clear, your cold demeanor clashing with the ghost of a loving smile dancing on your lips. You're so cruel; he knows that you do not hate him, so why do you act so distant? He can convince you that what he feels isn't a byproduct of some mystical vampiric bonding. So please, just give him a chance to prove to you that he is full and genuine in his emotions for you. If you'd let him, he would bring all that is golden to your feet. He would eliminate all silver in the world for a simple, fleeting glance of acknowledgment.

His hips buck into his hand and he gasps, saliva pooling on your pillowcase and precum leaking onto your pristine sheets. He pauses only for a moment and then giggles escape his throat. He wishes you were here to admonish him for his greediness. Perhaps you would give him a slap to his cheek, letting it blossom in red, and then bite him to punish him for his wrongdoings. Just the thought has him whining.

In a swift movement motivated by desperation, he foregoes his pants and presses his bare cock against the cotton of your bedding. This bed has touched your bare skin; it has enveloped your vessel with its meager softness. He clutches the sheets in his hand, bringing them to his nose as he grinds against them.

Dion moans, his hips uncontrollable and his will unwavering. Your name slips out his mouth several times, but he doesn't correct himself. In this room, there is only him and your presence. When he moans your name, he dedicates every syllable to you, his eternal master. He thrusts into the sheets, his mind dreamily trailing to the thought of being wrapped in your warmth. He doesn't dare to explore the possibility for too long, however, because he loves you too dearly to bastardize the vision of you. But he can't help himself to just imagine... imagine for just another second what it would be like if you were caressing him with your body. If, instead of pleading for you, his skin can talk to your skin, and your mouths can kiss and bite in unison.

The air is thick with the scent of his sweat and your natural perfume, and he's staining the sheets with his audacity. With every precise thrust, he begs for you to return. Should you catch him at this very moment, you would surely be livid. And that anger is what he wishes to embrace with his naked form; every bruise, every puncture will be another trophy on his battle-worn body.

His breath hitches as he feels a familiar rush from the base of his cock rising to meet the tip. His nails dig into your bedsheets and his back arches. Closing his eyes, savoring the moment, he releases onto your pillow. He's shaking and quivering, bringing the pillow closer to softly grind onto it as he rides his climax out. He can only think of you, you, you, you. Your scent and his fluids mixing on the pillow, your sheets sullied by his immodesty, your eyes piercing into his guilty appearance.

And as though he were prophetic, he hears your footsteps outside your room, and the doorknob twists.

back to the kinktober grind, adonis and sea spirit are next on my to do list tho

-> masterlist

[yanderefarm]

Can we have some silvan fluff pleasseeeeeeeeee🙏

warmth (silvan)

cw;; blood drinking, suggestive

this is probably poorly written but I just wanted to write some meaningless fluff. just some cold cuddles.

living with vampires was incredibly cold and not because of their bodies, well, kind of. undead creatures have no use for central heating or blankets or anything that a normal human would need to keep warm. it's normally not until the first snow fall of the year that they would even light the fireplaces so it wasn't an unusual occurrence for silvan to be buried under blankets or in his winter clothes. being the only human was difficult but silvan would prefer to freeze before he would ever say something about it. even now as he shivered and twitched uncontrollably he dare not mention his discomfort to anyone.

you noticed though, you noticed his nose turning blue and his teeth clattering. it was at first a small sound that was distracting you but once you realized what the sound actually was you found yourself staring at him. you were watching him in confusion for truly an embarrassingly long time.

"do you want my attention so much? is that why you're making that noise?"

if his little face wasn't already pink from the cold he definitely would be blushing. his shaking hands covered his mouth as he tried to force himself to stop chattering. it was only when you saw he was wearing his fingerless gloves that it dawned on you.

"... its cold?" you blinked at him.

silvan nodded his cute little head before he buried his face in his jacket. you probably should have realized with how bundled up he was.

within moments your servants lit the fireplace illuminating the whole room in a warm light. your pet's face was even more beautiful under the flickering light as he slowly pulled his gloved hands down. you got up from your desk and made your way over to the couch near the fireplace, your work completely forgotten in favour of sitting in front of the fire. silvan was slow to join you but eventually he sat himself within arm's reach on the couch.

a servant brought in a large thick blanket that usually made its home on one of the guest beds and you set it down next to you. you gently grabbed silvan's arm and smiled when you heard him let out a small whimper. with a light grip on his arm you pulled him to sit between your legs, his head resting against your shoulder. your fingers made him shiver and whimper as you began slowly peeling off his layers. once he was left in his shirt and his cute panties you finally took the large blanket and pulled it over you both. with his shaking hands he pulled the blanket up to cover his chin and you helped him by wrapping it around your bodies more.

"master... it's so cold still..." his teeth were still clattering.

you leaned down and kissed his cheek. "I'll ask them to bring you some hot chocolate."

silvan was smiling as he snuggled against you, his head resting on your shoulder. you gave your servants another order before you wrapped your arms around his middle and pulled him against your body. the warmth of the fire and the blanket finally began to seep into his skin in spite of your cold body. his teeth finally stopped chattering.

it was made even better when they brought his hot chocolate. you held the hot cup up to his pink lips watching as he took a sip before he gasped. it was too hot for him still and he stuck out his cute tongue. it was too much, you leaned in and gave him a soft kiss running your tongue over his burnt one until your saliva helped soothe his burn. silvan squirmed in your lap, shifting to sit on one of your thighs while his legs were resting over your other thigh. the new position made it easy for you to nuzzle your face into his neck.

soon you were distracted between reading him a fairytale and running your tongue along his neck. he smelled like the sweet chocolate that he kept accidentally spilling down his lips. you tsked at him before lapping up the hot chocolate on his chin and kissing him. his hands grabbed your arm and he whined slightly.

"I'd be able to get farther if you weren't so tantalizing."

silvan blushed and tilted his head to the side exposing his neck to your gaze. "master, please. need you."

you sighed before busying your mouth against his neck again. you resisted the temptation to bite him instead choosing to nip at his skin leaving little marks behind. he took another shakey drink of his hot chocolate, spilling it on his lips again. messy little pet. you had to keep alternating between kissing him deeply and pressing your fangs against his neck. he pushed the blanket off a little bit, his body growing too hot with all your teasing.

"aren't you cold, pet?" you grinned as he let out a soft little whine.

"you're making me hot...."

you licked his neck again running your tongue along until you felt his pulse. finally with your arms wrapped around his trembling body you sank your fangs into his soft flesh. his warmth immediately filling you up.

[ahhhwomen]

Frostbite.

Vampire Empire

Part 4

Pairing: DarkVamp!Wanda Maximoff x DarkVamp!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: I am so tired lol

Disclaimer: English is not my first language. All mistakes are my own.

AU Warnings: Human pets, abuse, violence, possessiveness, probably incorrect vampire lore, angst, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, kitten play (?), also this is not a Carol positive fic (I have nothing against her, but I needed a villain), death  Minors DNI 18+

Summary: Is this what death feels like?

Word Count: 2.5k

Taglist

*ACHOO*

Snot dribbles down your nose, but with a scrunch of your face and a deep inhale, you manage to sniffle it back.

As the weeks closed in on winter your enclosure had become unbearably cold, to the point where your water bowl was frozen over each morning.

After the fourth time of getting your tongue stuck on the icicle your metal bowl had become, you decided to share your heating lamp with it, the red light barely doing anything to keep you from freezing to death as you curled around the little bowl.

As you feel a tickle in your nose, you go to relieve it yet again, but before you can do that-

A hand grabs you by the back of your hair, and you clumsily falter in your path, with your arm blocking your knee, you aren’t able to sit down even as she tries to drag you downward. You can’t stop exactly where she wants you to, so she pulls harder, her fingers digging half-moons into your scalp. The pain is sharp and prominent.

You quickly right your limbs, and seat yourself on the chilling ground.

“Do that one more time and I am going to shoot you,” Carol tells you in an awfully calm tone. She towers over you, her long fluffy coat obscuring your view from anything but her.

You have been continuously sneezing and coughing the past few days and it was starting to piss her off.

Chills prickle your blue-ish skin and you can’t help but shiver as a blow of wind passes by. Your hands and knees feel numb, and you have to squint to stop the wind from making your eyes tear up.

Tires screech against the asphalt as a dark, red, Lamborghini pulls into the parking lot.

The wide frame of the car closes in on the spot beside Master´s SUV, you can see your owner clench her jaw and pull herself higher in posture. As she stands beside you her coat lays against your side, it brushes your shoulder and thigh, the soft material doing nothing to soothe you as the infamous clan leader steps out.

A high heel comes into view first, as her leg bends out of the vehicle and takes a solid footing against the dark pavement. There is a clinking of metal as a delicate hand, adored with golden jewelry, takes hold of the car’s exterior.

Your hands clutch and grasp the ground in hopes of finding a substantial piece of material to distract yourself with. It’s pointless.

The feminine leader steps out of the car with more diligence than any other posh woman could hope for. Wanda has her hair down, her amber curls cascading down her crimson, leather, jacket. Her piercing gaze is hidden behind sunglasses so dark you can’t tell where she is looking, and it makes you tense.

You feel as though she is inspecting you, the scrutinizing power dangles over your head as you replay the influence her eyes hold.

Neither you nor Carol were expecting to see Wanda, usually, it is one of the clan’s goons that meet for this sort of thing. You wonder what changed.

Carol slightly lowers her head in greeting, and you feel obligated to do the same. Your stiff neck struggles to bend past the upper half of your throat, but you bite your tongue and force it down lower. You don’t even realize you are uncontrollably shaking until Wanda speaks up.

“Carol,” Wanda points to your small frame leaning against Master´s legs, too tired to hold yourself up, “the girl is freezing to death. Get her something to put on then we can get started.” Wanda walks past the both of you, her strut unfaltering as she steps inside the construction area.

The scent of her grazes your stuffed nose and you have to resist the need to slump lower and close your eyes for just a moment. It smells warm, like a summer day on the beach, or at least what you envision the scene to smell like.

It’s a shame you will never experience it.

After the shorter woman has walked past, Master kicks her knee out and you topple off balance, your elbow collides with the loose pebbles beneath you as you fall. A small stone is lodged into the skin just beneath your elbow, and when you sit up you can feel the stone shift and dig deeper.

You grit your teeth together in pain and resist the need to hiss as hot flashes shoot up your arm.

Carol throws her head in the direction of her black SUV and states a simple “There is a sweater in the backseat.” Then her army boots stroll forward, leaving you to pick yourself up.

You don’t know when you crawled over, but now you sit just beside the car.

Getting the door open turns out to be a challenge. You grunt to yourself as you can’t seem to lift your arms high enough, the position on your knees is difficult to manage when your muscles are this stiff. And the shaking hasn’t stopped either, it makes no sense to you.

With a huff, you shake it off and push yourself just that little bit farther.

Just as your pale fingers grasp onto the cool metal the scenery around you shifts and morphs.

Suddenly you are sitting beside Carol with a half-knitted sweater hanging loosely against your frame.

You whip your head from left to right, the tendrils in your neck stretching and aching. Your vision lags, one moment you are looking at the far-left wall, then in the blink of an eye your eyes are dizzyingly close to the far right one.

You want to shift from one hand to the other, your palms are raw and painful, but your arms are stiff and heavy.

Nothing makes sense as you study the heels of the woman in front of you, you can’t decide on what color they are, too blurry and confusing to look at you try to think back to when you saw her…

When you saw her...?

Her…?

Who…?

Saw who…?

Wait.

You blink, your eyelids stick together, then with a determined raise of your eyebrows, they slowly peel apart, every lash untwining one by one.

How did you get here?

You can hear the two women talk amongst themselves, but your head is killing you. Every word sounds like an obscured radio speaker, you can’t pull focus and the words drift away.

You feel strange.

At least you aren’t cold anymore.

The tower of paper collapses beneath her desk as another piece of crumbled tree falls on top of the others. Ink stains the flooring as the undried sheet drags across the path of Wanda’s swishing leg.

Red hair falls like a waterfall down the back of her office chair as she throws her head back and huffs to herself. Wanda was dying from boredom, who knew peace could be so troublesome?

Ever since the peace offering was accepted by the clans in this area, Wanda didn’t have much to do. She stretches her neck back and forward, the tense tissue loosening slightly.

With a groan, Wanda pulls her phone out of her left pocket and decides to check on Natasha for the fourth time today. Her thumb taps against the glass screen rapidly, she opens her message app and finds the usual:

Wanda:

Hey lovely, just checking in, how is it going?

Sent

Just me again, are you coming home for dinner tonight? I can make your favorite ;)

Sent

How is the project coming along, any progress?

Sent

If Wanda didn’t know any better, she would think her wife was ignoring her. She sighs and pockets her cell phone. Slowly rising from her seat, the leather chair groans as she uses her legs to pull herself up.

Her desk is a mess.

Case files of all sorts lay unorganized atop, they had been hastily pushed to the side, between the previous fights and the unruliness of other clans, Wanda never had much time to deal with it. Her fingers delicately push the files into a compromised pile, the paper feels dry and bothersome against her pale hands, but it will have to do.

When she turns to place them inside her drawer, her foot slips on the wet ink coating the floor beneath her slipper. Her hip bumps into the low desk and she curses herself as the files fall and scatter before her.

“Just my luck,” she murmurs under her breath as she goes to pick one of them up, then she halts, her head turns as another file grabs her attention.

She remembers that one, it had been a project she wanted to start decades ago but never found the time, it was just recently that her members had started construction.

Leaning under her desk Wanda stretches her hand out and picks up the discussed rapport.

In a spur-of-the-moment, she had plucked her phone back out and called up her most loyal worker, who was supposed to meet with the Thor clan for planning today.

Wanda grabs the desk and places the phone against her ear, keeping it balanced with her raised shoulder, while the tone rings, she continues to pick up the offending objects and place them in their rightful place, just as she is closing the lower drawer he picks up.

“Mrs. Maximoff, what can I do for you?” Clint speaks on the other side of the phone, his voice gruff and masculine.

Wanda’s much more feminine voice answers with an uncaring tone, “The meeting with the Thor clan, that is today, correct?”

Right to the point Clint answers clearly, “Yes ma’am, I was just about to get in my car now.” Wanda takes hold of the phone against her ear; she shifts it to the other side as she opens the file and skims through the content.

She hums, “No need, I will take personal care of this one, you can do as you please today.”

Before the man has time to answer Wanda’s thumb hits the big red button and she starts her path to the walk-in closet across the hall.

You look like shit.

Lying in a heap on the ground, your pale features are void of any emotion.

Your lips are blue, and your fingertips stretched out toward Wanda, have become completely still. Your breathing is slow, then erratic, then slow again.

If Wanda hadn’t seen your fighting spirit that day, she would have thought you were a mute statue. You had been lying in the same spot since you entered with that hideous sweater. It was clearly a half-finished project of Carol´s; what a bitch, can’t even dress her own plaything right.

Wanda cringes at the thought, you weren’t hers.

The redhead glances at her watch for the hundredth time. With a sigh, she closes her eyes and inhales deeply, the cold air invades her lungs and scratches her throat. Even with her lesser human senses, there was a bite in the creeping wind.

With the lack of insolation and the less-than-ideal condition of the walls, Wanda had come here to discuss the process continuing, as the building stands now it would be less than ideal for humans to be here.

Her jacket crinkles as she steps closer to you, her shoes connect with poorly polished oak, and she cringes as she feels the plastic shift and strain when a loose nail tries penetrating the weak material.

You don’t react much, Wanda steps to your side, looking you over slowly.

To say Wanda was surprised to see you would be a lie. Due to the area lying in between the clan’s territory, they had agreed to manage it together, and she knows Carol has a responsibility for the lesser projects, like this one.

But-

Wanda kicks a pebble in your direction, just far enough for any normal human to at least move their head a little, but to no one’s surprise, your glassy eyes stare into the ground just in front of her with a complete lack of reaction.

The redhead is starting to think this match-up was a poor one.

And that’s not even mentioning the disrespect that oozes from the younger girl.

Carol had stepped out of their little meeting half an hour ago, Wanda had been explaining the logistics of marketing, when the blond woman had lifted her finger to Wanda’s face as her phone rang. With no regard for the one funding this project, she had stepped out with a meek “I have to take this.”

It wasn’t long after that very important phone call that Wanda heard Carol´s car speed off the property. Leaving you behind.

Wanda tsks, her lip lifting into a displeased frown. Pulling out her cell phone she is quick to send a message to the clan leader.

Mrs. Maximoff:

Carol left.

Read 7:12

Goldilocks:

You’re kidding?!

Read 7:13

Wanda snorts, Thor is sweet, but he is also incredibly naïve, he never should have accepted Carol, to begin with. That man’s heart will be his undoing one of these days.

Mrs. Maximoff:

I’m afraid not.

If this ever were to happen again,

I hope you understand that will be the end of this agreement.

I will not extend this olive branch again.

Sent 7:15

With a shake of her head, Wanda places her phone in her dress pants and shrugs her jacket off, her hand clutches the chilled material, hoping to warm it a little. And then she gently places it atop your pale frame. She thought maybe the blond woman would come back, but it seems not. The jacket looks like an overcoat with your curled frame.

Wanda tilts her head as she just stares at you for a moment.

You weren’t even scared, or at least you didn’t act like it. The last time she had seen you, you were close to having a heart attack every time Wanda moved a millimeter, now look at you. You lay there with half-lidded eyes, body curled into a ball, no concern toward the redhead’s proximity.

Even as Wanda lightly taps you with the point of her heel, your skin denting inward directly over a bruise, your breathing stays the same, your heart rate stays the irregular pattern it has this entire time.

Wanda huffs, you are a strange creature, but she figures the cold must have gotten to you. The taller woman kneels down beside you, her knee hovers just over the flooring, and her heels groan in agony against the awkward bend. She squints her eyes before testing her faith.

Warm hands run over your back, a gentle up-and-down motion on top of smooth leather. The pressure is just enough to feel it but light enough to avoid uncomfortable pushing against your bruised, thin, skin.

Within the paddling of confusion and the water rushing in on you, you feel a warmth swallow you whole. It’s nice.

Even through the jacket, Wanda can feel your ribs jutting out, with another sigh she pats you on the head. Your hair is greasy and cold, but Wanda doesn’t mind.

Now, onto the real issue at hand, what is she going to do with you?

Taglist:

@thinking1bee

@tobiaslut

@esmeseasle

@skittlebum

@tia-thesimp

@maximilfsworld

@leenasayeed

@scarlethexelove

@itsalwaysskorpioszn

@observeowl

@tekanparadiae

@alexawynters

@adelareys

@anqyuicka

@ichala

[spacebarbarianweird]

@ramlightly graciously let me write a fic based on this comic. Check it out, it's so cool!

"Dominate Person" is a nasty spell that can fully submit a humanoid to your power. It's unclear if the victim has self-consciousness in the moment but since it's possible to throw Wisdom saving rolls I think you can feel that you are controlled.

Thanks @bhaalbaaby for beta-reading!

Puppet Master

Synopsis: Astarion is enchanted by the "Dominate Person" spell and almost kills Tav.

Tags: angst, comfort

TW: A description of physical violence

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion wants to move. To hide in the shadows and shoot the necromancer from there.

You are surrounded, but you keep doing your work.

But he can't.

His body is paralyzed, and he feels a wave of panic. 

No, not this. Not "Hold Person"!

He can't do this. He can't make it.

Paralysis is like being sealed in a tomb with too little space to move. Helpless, voiceless.

What if something happens to you when he is like this?

"Astarion, use your daggers!"

Is it you? Or one of the adventurers you've teamed up this morning to kick necromancers out of the town?

Astarion just has to wait. The spell wears off when the spellcaster is down. Or a healer manages to find a way to get rid of the invisible chains.

Or...

USE THE DAGGER

The voice is intimidating, too loud, and too powerful.

It's like the Cazador's voice in his head again. Suppressing. Ordering. Torturing.

No, no...

Astarion feels his hand move toward the dagger. The strings make him move.

It's not "Hold Person".

It's "Dominate Person".

Full control of the victim. The voice your body cannot resist. You become one of them, fighting for them.

Murdering your loved ones.

KILL

Astarion rushes forward to you. To the only person he loves and cares about. The only person in the entire world who has never hurt him.

"Astarion! Help me! Astarion, what's wrong?"

Astarion pushes you into the ground with all his newfound vampiric strength.

No, no, please, stop it!

MURDER THEM

The dagger stabs through your stomach, causing an internal rupture. The second dagger wounds your chest.

You stare at him in pain, in silent prayer. You watch your lover killing you.

Blood. So much blood. Your blood.

A strong hand pulls Astarion from you, but it's not enough.

Astarion has an order from his new master.

To kill you. To make sure you are dead.

It is the worst type of dissociation. He is just an observer.

His hands rip you apart as if you are a prey he's found in the woods. Your eyes are full of terror and pain.

VAMPIRE, DRINK THE BLOOD.

No, no, I won't do it. I don't take the blood without consent... NO!

His fangs pierce into your neck, taking the blood non-stop. To satiate him, to let him feel alive.

And to drain you.

He is less than a slave. A puppet. With his locked mind in agony.

CRUSH THE SKULL

Astarion grabs a handful of your hair to smash you against a stone. Your body is motionless. Broken. Almost dead.

And then...

The agony of death pierces the mind. It's an acid flare of horror - too familiar for the undead.

It happened to him once, many years ago. When he was killed by Cazador and revived as a vampire spawn.

That's how death feels.

But he isn't dying. More than this, his body is his again.

Astarion stands up, feeling the nightmare wearing off.

Your body lies on the ground in blood and gore.

Astarion falls to his knees, his hands shaking.

And yells.

**

You wake up, your body sore and in terrible pain.

Astarion.

Your mind reacts with a panic attack - a near-death experience causing mental anguish. Your body remembers how Astarion jumped on you with his daggers.

How he ripped your throat.

How he almost crushed your skull.

You try to collect yourself. "Dominate Person". One of the nastiest spells necromancers know. Create a humanoid puppet and make them kill their friends and loved ones. While they silently scream, locked in their minds.

Some people never recover from that. Offing themselves, not being capable of dealing with what they did.

Damn, and what did it do to Astarion? It's what happened to him during his enslavement. Orders impossible to resist.

You want to call for him, but your body refuses to act. It remembers.

His hands, his fangs.

And his eyes in such desperation you've never seen.

Before you manage to collect yourself again, you fall into oblivion.

**

Astarion is silent.

His nails pierce his scalp. His teeth are clenched. His eyes open wide as he stares at the wall.

The companions who murdered the necromancers ignore him, but he doesn't feel any hostility.

Just a spell. It happens.

"Astarion... Is this your name, right?" a young fighter approaches him. "You need to take a bath."

Astarion looks at himself. His clothes are covered in blood. Your blood.

"Tav will be fine. We have good healers here. Don't blame yourself."

As if enchanted again, Astarion walks away. In silence, he locks himself in the bathroom - a small wooden room with a tub full of hot water. But instead of putting off the dirty clothes, he submerges himself fully clothed.

The fabric clings to the body, and Astarion hugs his knees. The blood mixes with water.

His back hurts as if his scars are bleeding.

He doesn't know how long he spends there. An hour? A day? A week? The water is cold. but he can't care less still hearing your cries.

The door creaks, and he notices familiar soft steps.

"Astarion? Are you alright?"

He can't look at you. Can't make himself. Can't witness the damage he caused.

"I almost killed you, and you ask how I am doing?" his voice breaks.

"The necromancer almost killed me," you say firmly. "Not you. Hey, look at me!"

Your head is heavily bandaged. There are bruises all over your face, and he knows there is much more evidence of his violence below your shirt and trousers.

"It wasn’t you. It was them. You would never do this to me."

"I did."

"You didn't. Come on, take off your clothes. They’re all wet."

He wants to make you go, make you leave. He will be happy knowing you are somewhere safe and far from him.

You touch his neck, and he can't resist. Astarion allows you to pull off his shirt and then manages to take off the trousers as well. 

"I am sorry," he whispers.

"Don't." You start rubbing his back, and he flinches when your gentle fingers touch the edges of the scars.

"Tav... You need to rest..."

"Don't be selfish. I need this, too."

"What? Why?"

You take his chin and make him look up at you. "Because my body remembers you killing me. Because my subconscious tells me to run away. Because I remember these gentle hands of yours driving blades into my chest. I need to forget it before it's engraved forever. So please, don’t push me away. Not now..."

You keep rubbing his back, hands, and chest. You plant kisses on the clean skin. You wash his hair, stained blood, and gore, and make sure your touches are light and tender.

"If you want to talk about it, I am here. I know what exactly it reminded you of," you whisper in his ear.

And at that moment it's too much.

His body shudders as he starts crying, hiding his face from you in his palms. You drop the rags and wrap your hands around his neck.

You sit like that for an eternity, lulling each other until the healer starts banging into the door, demanding you to return to bed. You reluctantly let Astarion go.

You kiss him goodbye and leave, hoping the darkness won't hold his mind again, and he won't run away from you and his guilt.

**

The bed is comfortable as you lie motionless on a blanket. The healer did a great job patching you together. But you will need to fully recover. And gallons of healing potion.

Astarion enters the room. He wears fresh clothes, and if it wasn't for his facial expression, you could think nothing bad has happened.

"Come," you ask him. "I am sorry, but the night of passion isn't an offer today."

"Don't be ridiculous. How are you feeling?"

"Beaten. Wounded. Tired. And you?"

"Violated"

You both are silent. Finally, Astarion lies beside you and wraps his hands around you.

Your body stiffens against your will. Astarion feels it and tries to let you go.

"No. Hold me like that!"

He obliges and gently places your head on his chest. His cool skin feels nice.

Astarion loves me. He won't hurt me.

You repeat it like a prayer before finally being able to fully relax.

"I love you," he mutters. "I won't hurt you. You hear me?"

You nod.

"I love you, too," You smile, and your heart rejoices when he smiles back.

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx@astarion-beloved@tallymonster@caitlincat-95@tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars