#blood drinking tw

[playername-player-of-games]

The Codfather is chewing on his lip again.

Fwhip is trying not to stare. He doesn't think Jimmy's noticed, somehow, despite the little trickle of his odd blue-green blood beading on his lip and smearing on his teeth. Though honestly Fwhip probably wouldn't have noticed it either, if it didn't smell so sweet.

His eyes linger for a moment to long. He watches it build up and up until that tiny bead becomes too big and falls.

Fwhip slips off his glove and wipes away the bead with his thumb. Then, as if it were frosting from a cake, or a dollop of cream, puts it in his mouth.

Jimmy stiffens.

Fwhip blinks. Then blinks up at Jimmy, meeting widened browned eyes as they both realize what he's just done.

"Uh," Jimmy says.

"Uh," Fwhip plasters on his most winning smile and waves, hoping Jimmy doesn't notice his blush as heat explodes across his face, "it was nice seeing you, Jimmy! Bye!"

He slips away, nearly running. Now is an awful time to have the inability to turn into a bat.

[katranga]

love writing smut as an ace going 'this is what sex is, right?' and just typing literally anything

Tav imposes their own sweet torture on themself, swirling their hips in tiny, careful circles while keeping their head still, so Astarion can fill his mouth with their blood, stain his tongue red, coat his throat in a hot gush, sweeter than wine.

[basil-the-middleground]

Flashing Lights warning at 28-33 seconds (although most of it is slow I'm still giving that warning)

I decided to test out color isolation due to...certain people's reaction to a Texas Death Match.

The red's always been here...

(Also the song is called The Pretender by Foo FIghters..)

[bookwormscififan]

The Amethyst Files, Part 4

Read on AO3!

Previous part

A/N: Take some spice with a grain of salt, because this vampire AU crossover isn't wholly sweet, nor is it wholly spicy.

Warnings: light smut and blood drinking.

--

Jackie let Phantom inside, locking the door behind him and tugging on his hoodie sleeve as he turned to face Phantom.

“Thank you,” he began softly, staring at the ground as he moved closer to the bed. “Thank you for staying. I haven’t… I haven’t had someone stay in a while. I just want you to know… I’m grateful.”

“I wanted to stay,” Phantom said, making Jackie look up to see him pinching the skin between his thumb and index finger. “I didn’t stay because my brother was there, I stayed because you asked me to. You asked me to stay, and there was no way I was going to leave you there on your own.”

Jackie was in front of him before he finished his sentence, hands on his knees as he moved closer, eyes darting to Phantom’s lips before meeting his gaze again, asking a silent question and waiting for an answer.

Phantom swallowed thickly around the lump in his throat, hands moving up Jackie’s arms to grip his biceps, and he licked his lips briefly before giving a slight nod. His breath hitched when Jackie kissed him, soft and careful, lips molding to his own as he gently pushed further.

Closing his eyes as he breathed in through his nose, Phantom returned Jackie’s kiss, holding his arms tighter and leaning back, pulling Jackie onto the bed above him. When Jackie pulled back, panting slightly, Phantom gave him a more confident nod, sliding one hand up to cup his jaw, brushing his thumb across his cheek.

“Tell me if I need to stop,” Jackie said quietly before diving down, tracing the line of Phantom’s collarbones with his lips before hesitantly pressing his teeth against his pulse point, hands snapping to Phantom’s hips to hold them down.

A short spike of fear crawled up Phantom’s spine when Jackie pressed his fangs against him, but he pushed it away and held Jackie tighter, trying to buck his hips against the vampire and letting out a soft groan when Jackie held him down. His complaint caught in his throat as Jackie slowly bit down, pausing before starting to suck, and Phantom’s eyes rolled back at the feeling of Jackie drinking his blood.

The feeling was almost intoxicating, making Phantom lightheaded and sweeping him up in pleasure as Jackie finally pressed his hips down, giving Phantom some much-needed friction and making him dig his nails into Jackie’s back.

Jackie could taste the moment Phantom’s high hit, his blood spiking into a richer, warmer flavour, and he ground against him a couple more times before stilling, pulling his fangs out to lick over the mark he’d left on Phantom’s neck, then resting his head on his shoulder and catching his breath.

Phantom panted a few times, squirming as the wetness of his jeans grew uncomfortable, and he moved a hand up to thread through Jackie’s hair, staring at the ceiling with glassy eyes before his hand stilled. He’d let a vampire drink from him. Was this how Mare had felt?

----

Mad had barely gotten Mare into the cabin before he was practically tossed onto the bed, smiling as Mare crawled on top of him.

“Hi,” Mare said with a smile, voice rough in that way that did things to Mad and made his fangs ache.

“Hi,” Mad replied, holding Mare against him and rolling over so he was on top, tracing patterns into his chest. “Evidently I’ve done something good, or you wouldn’t have gotten me here. I just don’t know what I could have done,” he joked, laughing when Mare grabbed his sides.

“There isn’t another clearing in these woods, and you know it,” Mare’s voice was low, lifting his head to nose over Mad’s claim mark and smirking at the full body shiver it granted him. “You’d have to make a clearing for them if they want to live here, and you were hedging your bets on them staying in the town.”

“Not true, actually,” Mad answered, leaning down to press his lips against Mare’s shoulder, nosing away his shirt to get to the skin. “There is another clearing. It is north of this cabin, and it does have a creek. It just doesn’t have a view of the moon, and you can’t get to it without crossing through our clearing first.”

“How do you know about it?” Mare asked, tone serious as he held Mad closer to him, having shrugged off his shirt while Mad was talking. He kept the skin-on-skin contact, pressing his nose against Mad’s claim mark as his hand moved to find Mad’s, tracing his fingers along the gold band on his finger. Mad lifted his head slightly, looking at Mare with wide eyes.

“The vampires I killed who’d stolen my blood,” he began quietly, lowering his gaze to trace more patterns into Mare’s chest. “They had a map of my woods in the cabinet with the vial. They’d marked a clearing that would give them prime access to the cabin so they can collect more of my blood whenever they needed it.”

“Do you know if—”

“As far as I could tell from the map, they hadn’t started developing the land there yet,” Mad interrupted, resting his head on Mare’s chest and listening to his steady breathing. “They would have had to get through my place first, and I think they’d planned to get me out before they started.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mare voice was soft, bordering on tearful, and his hand was warm against Mad’s back.

“Because you were so happy to see me back home alive,” Mad replied, barely louder than a whisper. “And I couldn’t bear to see you hurt.”

-----------

@iamvegorott @brokentimewatch @dungeon-dragons-dragons

[whump-tr0pes]

A random AU i can't get out of my mind: the Stormbecks are vampires and Gavin turns Sam to save their life by the end of book 3 (I just KNOW Isaac would be willing to bleed himself dry for his two favorite vampires)

Anon. Anon.

The implications. The fucking implications. Vampirism standing in for torture, the Stormbecks and the other vampires like them deriving their pleasure, their very existence, from the lives of others. Gavin, born from ancient Vampires who care nothing for human life. Gavin fed animal blood and raw meat and milk by his caregivers, because babies can’t quite stomach the heady taste of human blood.

Gavin at four years old, sobbing as he stares at his parents who hold a bleeding, trembling plaything in front of him, demanding he take his first drink of human blood in his life and begin his transformation into a mature Vampire. He can choose, and Turn, and be like them – or they can feed on him, just like they fed on the plaything who lays dying on the floor in front of them. "Choose, sweetheart," his mother says as she licks her fingers clean. "Choose."

So he does. Of course he does. What else can he do?

He learns to feed. He learns to cause fear. He subsists on others, and of course he does. He’s a Stormbeck. He’s Undead, and this is his due. When he discovers a young mortal on his territory, of course he captures them, plays with them, feeds on them. That’s what Vampires do. That’s what he was born for.

But when another mortal volunteers to take Sam’s place, Gavin is taken aback. He’s never known of another human to act in such a way. Mortals are nothing, they are bloodbags and playthings and nothing else. But he takes Isaac captive, pushing down his doubts. He feeds on Isaac and is startled by how the human submits, tilting his head back for agony in exchange for the life of his sibling. It’s astounding. It makes no sense.

When the mortals escape, he vows to find them again, because he can’t quite forget the look of Isaac’s face screwing up in pain that he took willingly, for the sake of another.

When Gavin captures Tori and Vera, Vera stakes his father and just misses Gavin’s heart with a stake of his own. He barely survives, recovers under the watchful, vengeful eye of his mother, who is all too eager to string him up as bait for those damned humans. He realizes her plan, and escapes. He goes in search of the humans he almost destroyed.

The humans capture him, bind him with silver and muzzle him until they reach the north. When Schiester – a fierce vampire hunter – recognizes him, Gavin is almost staked again and barely escapes because of nothing but the humans’ mercy. He stays in the house with them, and requires no restrains – because where else could he go? He has to be invited into a home, and there is not a house in the North or South that would open their door to him now. He withers and weakens, but refuses to ask the family to let him feed. They bring him raw meat they hunt themselves, and that is enough to keep him alive.

He falls in love with Isaac, and once they are captured by Gavin’s mother, Isaac falls in love with Gavin, too. Gavin’s mother forces him to drink Isaac’s blood until Isaac is pale and weak. But Gavin is stronger than he has been in months. As Isaac weakens, Gavin strengthens. He grows strong enough to break his family out. But on their way out, a guard finds them, raises his gun, and fires…

And yes, I wrote a lil tidbit, because I had to. Content warning for blood, gore, and death.

~

Isaac could see nothing but red. It was all around him, spattered on the floor, staining his hands, burning his eyes. His heart hammered in his chest, aching as if a fist was squeezed around it. In his arms lay Sam: limp, bloodied, choking.

Dying.

“N-no,” Isaac gasped, pressing his fingers into the wound at Sam’s throat to staunch the bleeding. Their blood seemed to burn him, impossibly warm, spurting from the hole torn straight through their neck. The guard that shot them already lay dead on the floor, killed by Vera.

“Sam,” Isaac sobbed, numb with terror. Sam’s eyelids fluttered, and their unfocused gaze slid past Isaac entirely. They jerked in Isaac’s arms, paling, their lifeblood pouring out over Isaac’s hands.

It was more blood than Isaac had seen in his entire life.

“I-Isaa—” Sam gasped and choked, head lolling, hands grasping weakly at Isaac’s. “H-h—”

A flash of pale skin, of dark brown hair, a chill like death was breathing down his neck – then Gavin was at his side, his ghostly pale hand clamped down on Isaac’s sleeve.

Through his panic, Isaac glanced at Gavin, and his stomach lurched. Gavin’s eyes were red, bloodshot, hollowed by shadows as his fangs descended past his lips. Venom gleamed from the tips, and Gavin’s throat worked as he stared down at Sam. Isaac heaved a broken sob and cradled Sam closer, pulling them away from the monster that he’d fallen in love with during this eternity in hell.

“N-no…” Isaac whimpered, clutching Sam tight even as they weakened in his arms. “Gavin, please, no…” He couldn’t drag his gaze away from the razor-sharp fangs that glinted as Gavin pulled his lips back. “Gavin… d-don’t feed, they’ll… Gavin, please…”

Sam choked and sputtered, their eyes rolling back. Their skin was gray, now, the ashen pallor of death that was only moments away. Their fingers loosened on Isaac’s sleeve, and they slumped back. Their blood was coming slower, now, from the wound. Isaac’s vest and pants were soaked in red.

Gavin licked his lips, and those eyes – usually so green, but now reddish-black with thirst – met Isaac’s. Without a word, Gavin brought his wrist to his mouth and tore his teeth through the skin.

Isaac cried out as dark red blood poured from Gavin’s wound. Gavin darted forward, fast and precise as a snake, and pressed his bleeding wrist to Sam’s lips. The blood smeared there, maroon and sickly. Sam coughed, and their blood burbled from the wound at their throat. Gavin forced his hand over Sam’s mouth and held them still, unearthly strong, his eyes still blazing with hunger. They swallowed weakly and gasped, mindless, desperate, dying. Gavin slumped back on his heels and watched, unblinking. Isaac shuddered as Sam’s blood cooled on his clothes.

“Wh-what…” he croaked, tears streaming down his face. “Gavin… what… Sam, no, I… Gavin… what did you…?” He was shaking apart. Every heartbeat stabbed through his chest. He could feel a scream building deep inside him, tearing his throat as it rose, crushing him, pushing him aside and leaving nothing but pain.

“Just wait,” Gavin croaked, his voice desiccated. Isaac knew only too well the sound of Gavin’s voice when he was thirsty. And he bore the wounds at his throat and wrists from when Gavin had been forced to feed, his own mother clutching his hair and holding his mouth against Isaac’s pulse until he gave in, again and again.

“Is-saac…” Sam breathed, pale as death. Their eyes rolled back, and they fell still.

“N-no, NO!” Isaac roared, shaking Sam, clutching them tight again. “Sam, NO!” Their chest heaved a meager breath, drawing air into their ruined throat. Isaac felt himself choke on tears.

“Stop, Isaac,” Gavin said roughly, his hand fisted in Isaac’s sleeve. His eyes remained locked on Sam as they drew in another shallow, painful breath. “Let them go. Trust me.” Finally, he tore his gaze from Sam and raised it to Isaac, devastation carved deep into the planes of his face. “They’re… th-they’re Turning.”

Realization struck Isaac like a bullet. His eyes widened and he stared at Gavin, hope barely daring to flutter in his heart. “T-Turning…” he breathed.

“Yes,” Gavin said, hands in fists at his sides. He knelt in Sam’s blood, was stained by it. “But they need to, um… d-die first.”

Isaac whimpered softly. He cradled Sam’s head, brushed their blood-stained hair out of their eyes. They trembled, their chest rising slower, slower – until it stopped. Sam fell still, silent, empty, their lips still stained with Gavin’s blood.

Isaac tipped his head back and sobbed. Even though he knew – he had to believe – that Gavin would save Sam, his heart rent itself in two at the sight of their lifeless body. His sibling. His Sam. Even if they rose again, they wouldn’t be human. Wouldn’t be alive. Isaac would grow old, and age, and die, and Sam would remain youthful, trapped forever at twenty. He whispered their name and kissed the crown of their head, every nerve in his body screaming. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but hold Sam as their body cooled in his arms.

“Wh-what now?” he rasped, and raised his gaze to Gavin’s. Gavin still looked hungry, his eyes sunken, but some of the red fading away. His fangs tucked back behind his lips, and he looked at Isaac. Tears swam in his eyes.

“Give it time,” Gavin said, and slid his cold hand into Isaac’s. “Give it time. A few hours, maybe, and then, um…” Gavin wet his lips and pinned Isaac in place with his entrancing gaze. “Then they’ll, um… n-need to feed.”

[nicholasbaudelaire]

Let’s try this again

Closed starter @thebellamybarnes

Where: Nick’s apartment, Descry

When: After dawn 

That night Nick had had a lot to think about. He had had to process the fact that the woman in his bed was more complicated than he had originally appreciated, and he had to process the fact that for the first time in his life, he had allowed himself to be bitten. While Bella had lain asleep next to him, the wolf had woken up with a stiff neck and was immediately confronted by an onslaught of thoughts. While fingering the indents on his skin left by Bella’s teeth, kneading the wounded area with an absent mind, Nick considered his options. Option one; fucking flee, he was clearly insane given he had let a vampire feed off him and then almost reduced the same vampire to tears. Option two; somehow fix the fuckery of an evening by turning back time and taking back his laughter.

Evidently, both were clearly impossible. Whether Bella loved him or not, he was head over heels and at the point of no return. For the life of him, he could not figure out what to do or how to feel. At several points during the suddenly sleepless night Nick had considered going for a run, but the thought of Bella waking to an empty bed in the middle of the night had stopped him, so he had stayed put until a decision was made.

While he lay there, he confronted the fact that the nights’ argument had left him with emotional whiplash. Nick had given Bella something he never thought he could ever give anyone, it felt like a huge gift to him. It wasn’t that he felt he deserved an award, but he definitely didn’t feel he deserved what had happened next. The fact of the matter was, that after the shock and dismay at upsetting her, Nick was kind of pissed. He had laughed at a funny nick name, which he didn’t think was a big deal, and she had almost cried, leaving him feeling like a monster. But it wasn’t exactly Bellamy’s fault either; she had explained that people in her past had laughed at her when she was trying to be vulnerable with them – the thought of which made Nicky’s blood boil – and so Nick could only confront his own initial response to it and let it go. Because the alternative would mean giving up and letting her go…

By the time dawns light began to filter through the blinds on the large windows, Nick was already up and moving about in the apartment. Dressed in the same pair of jeans and grubby shirt he had worn the day before; Nick lugged all the boxes of journals out of the apartment and stashed them in the corridor outside the apartment. Though he had showered the night before, Nick grabbed some dirt from his potted money plant and smeared it across his neck and arms, and then ruffled his curls so they looked a little wilder. He wanted to appear something like the filthy wolf he had been the day before, when she had brought him the journals.

Bella had said she wanted a do over, to be able to look back on the memory fondly, and Nick finally landed on a way to give it to her. It would be good for the both of them, he decided. Nick understood why she needed it, because he kind of needed it too. They both needed to feel like the first time he let her drink from him was something beautiful… not to be stained. By the time Bella awoke, her outfit from the day before could be seen neatly laid out on the tan leather reading chair opposite her side of the bed, and Nick would be found moving journals back into the living room, looking a little sweaty and a little dirty. He had even retrieved some empty beer bottles from the recycling bin and had left a few of them dotted around the apartment.

[mariahcadieux]

That sweetest fragrance

Closed starter @callie-everest 

Where: Hospital

When: Late Sunday evening

Mariah had a few donors, almost all of them were lovers, and she generally tried her best to be respectful, thoughtful. So, when her current favourite snack Hayley had said she wouldn’t mind a little more romance and chivalry, Mariah was willing to try. Hayley had called her late that Sunday evening crying about being overworked at the hospital with the addition of the kidnap victims. The vampire had agreed to come by and… ease some of the tension for her, and so that is how she ended up outside Callie’s room that night.

Wearing doc martens, faded mom jeans, a baggy tee and her usual black leather jacket, Mariah didn’t exactly look the typical flawlessly dressed vampire. In fact, had it not been for her face and waist length golden hair, she might have gone unnoticed. As it was, the blonde was striking. Her skin was flawlessly smooth, porcelain in its lack of colour and pigmentation. Her naturally narrow, predatory eyes were a brilliant green – gleaming from the consistent diet of fresh blood from the vein. She had a delicate upturned nose, and pale rosebud lips that never sat straight, always set in a wonky smirk or grimace. She was striking, difficult not to look at once you set eyes on her face, but she wasn’t your standard beauty. To some, she might have even appeared unattractive, but she wasn’t forgettable.

In her hands, Mariah held a bouquet of flowers, that she had purchased for the donor she was most fond of, and she was about to turn on her heal to head towards the janitor’s closet the two usually met in, when something caught her attention. A smell so aromatic, it almost floored the unblinking beauty.

She could smell dried, old blood, bagged blood tainting fresh, floral blood in the vein. She could taste adrenaline on the scent too. It smelled like… like panicked prey, holing up in its hiding space, counting down the minutes till death.

Unable to resist, Mariah’s upturned nose twitched as she followed the scent. She gave Callie’s door a gentle push, and the human’s scent washed over her, making her mouth water, her the toes curl and her gold lashes flutter as desire mixed with thirst overwhelmed her. She flitted to Callie’s bedside, appearing there as instantly as the door opened to the human eye. The bouquet of flowers still in her hand, Mariah’s narrow green eyes zeroed in on Callie’s throat, the pulse there, the blood infusion in her arm, the blood bag sullying Callie’s sweet, tantalising scent. The blonde said nothing upon her arrival, only stood, and stared, and smelled, her eyes unblinking.

[whydoihavetoart]

good soup

[plvtformbvllerina]

closed  starter  for  caine  //  @lullabiesofwoe

               Katie  had  gotten  used  to  her  new  schedule  pretty  quickly.  There  were  a  couple  minor  inconveniences  that  came  with  reacting  negatively  to  the  sun,  but  once  she  got  used  to  only  going  out  when  the  sun  was  down,  it  was  pretty  easy.  She  decided  to  make  a  trip  down  to  the  cantina  once  the  sun  had  set,  bringing  along  her  own…  special  flask  in  case  she  became  thirsty  for  something  other  than  alcohol.  Leaning  up  against  the  bar,  she  took  a  sip  from  her  flask,  quickly  wiping  away  a  drip  of  the  very  clearly  red  liquid  that  had  dripped  onto  her  chin  before  anyone  noticed.  Or  at  least,  she  tried.  “  They’re  cool  with  you  bringing  your  own  stuff  here,  right?  ”

[youllalwaysbemyporcelain]

Was that [KIM JI WOONG]? Oh no no, that was just [YOON CHI WOO], a [CANON CHARACTER] from [THE SWEET BLOOD]. They are [UNKNOWN/ LOOK EIGHTEEN] years old, use [THEY/THEM], and [ARE] aware that they are not actually from Washington DC. Too bad they can’t stray from this city for long.

Chi Woo has been in DC for two years. They’re a vampire. In their world, vampires don’t drink blood from humans. They drink a special wine made with donated blood. It was illegal to drink from a human, but Chi Woo has drank directly from a human before. They are a sommelier and own a winery and a bar. They’ve named it Violet Wine after their father’s in Korea. But their winery doesn’t sell blood wine like their father’s did. They prefer it in DC, away from the drama of their world. There’s no one pressuring them to be a certain way, they can just be themselves.

[playername-player-of-games]

opened my drafts and found this from another pov i don’t wanna delete it so here u go <3

//

Fwhip regrets every decision he's ever made in his entire immortal life.

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad," Pixlriffs assures, though he sounds more amused than anything else, (the jerk), "walk me through it. What happened?"

Fwhip takes a deep breath, letting it all out through his nose. He runs one hand through his hair, both elbows on Pixl's desk, and hopes the heat in his face won't burn him alive.

"You know how- how Jimmy bites his lips, right?"

"Mmhmm?"

Jimmy had been chewing on his lip, and Fwhip noticed the sudden, sweet smell of blood and couldn't stop staring. Jimmy's blood is the weirdest color- kind of a dark teal-ish blue with lighter blues and greens mixed in- almost like a glowsquid. Weirdest blood he's ever seen.

"And you- you know how I'm a vampire."

Pixlriff's eyebrows raise. "Yes?"

"I-" Fwhip swallows, peeking up at Pix through his bangs. Regrets it when he sees his grin. He ducks his head again, "I didn't mean to."

It had been an instinct, maybe. He slipped off his glove and reached out, wiped it up with his thumb as casual as anything. Stuck it in his mouth as if it was frosting off a cake or a bit of whipped cream, not his enemy's blood, and Jimmy just stared at him.

Seriously. What was he thinking.

[ruporas]

feast (ID in alt)

[techn0tony]

I present to you: Donnie's design from my Future AU (that still does not have a name-)

Okay so a few things I should mention:

It's hard to see these details, but he has a robotic hand and eye (and one of his legs as well)

He is so fucking tall, he is taller than Leo even (but shorter than Raph of course). And yes he does tease Leo about it

He is the second brother to die, but I haven't decided his cause of death yet

There is a lore reason for places on his skin being blue, but it would be spoilers for my Separated AU if I told the reason x.x

This is the same Donnie from my Separated AU, my AU's are connected

EDIT MONTHS LATER LMAO:

Augh okay so actually I updated this recently: He does not die after Raph anymore, now Donnie is the first brother who dies

And the AU has a name now! It's the Genius Built AU

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

Thinking about Astarion having to deal with his reclaimed mortality once the initial euphoria of it is wearing off: 

When he’s startled from sleep, woken by his own racing heartbeat. 

Him jumping at the movement in the corner of his eye, only to find it’s just his own reflection staring right back at him, puzzled, before he watches his cheeks redden with embarrassment. 

The sun slowly losing its appeal as time goes on because Astarion keeps getting nasty sunburns after days spent outside, trying to make up for centuries confined to darkness. Whenever he comes home with itching skin and drenched in sweat, he finds himself almost missing hiding in the shadows. 

The odd sensation of feeling more and less at the same time: while some of his senses are now dulled to better suit mortality, others feel heightened to the point of sensory overload—a gust of wind feels like fire licking at his skin and he gets so very anxious whenever he loses Tav in the crowd, unable to distinguish them by the once divine scent of their blood any longer. 

Since he has a reliant supply of his own blood pumping through his veins now, he’s feeling aroused so much easier and more often than not at quite inconvenient times. He enjoyed having sex with Tav before, but now that he’s mortal again, he finds that he’s having to overthink intimacy once again—where his desires used to be driven by burning hunger, lust now feels like a pleasant, more natural bodily reaction. Having to seriously consider contraceptive measures, should his partner be able to get pregnant, is also a rather novel experience for him.  

Bathing still feels as good as before, at least. But where he spent hours in the bathroom out of pointless vanity then, Astarion now has to wash himself because his body would stink of sweat and, well, life otherwise. It will be years before he openly excuses himself for having to use the bathroom whenever nature calls.

And food—food would be the hardest to adjust to. It takes a lot of trial and error to find something that pleases his virgin taste buds (although he swears there’re some odd pieces of memories flashing in front of his eyes whenever he's snacking on wild strawberries or awfully sweet citron tarts). He ends up acquiring a taste for raw cookie dough, shredded cheese and sardines, eating little else for the next two years or so. To everyone's astonishment, he's gotten food poisoning only once or twice.

Astarion is no stranger to pain or injury, but he’s appalled by how long it takes to recover from the most minor cuts and bruises. It’s a well-kept secret between him and Tav that his first common cold had him convinced he was dying for a fortnight straight. 

Crying is much easier now, too.

Ironically, it’s mortality that forces Astarion to strive for more permanent, detail-oriented plans for the future. Now that life is finite, he wants to use the time he has wisely. He might keep travelling the realms until he breathes his last, or settle down, eventually. He might learn a new profession or accumulate some wealth in less honest ways. Maybe, one day, he wants to have a family, heirs to whatever he decides to make his own. 

Once Astarion has come to terms with being a mortal elf again, he realises living is not just about a beating heart. Living is about having endless possibilities but limited time. Choices and decisions that lead to only one thing: death. 

Now that Astarion is living again, he finally understands that death is just another part of the journey.

[bookwormscififan]

Falling Into the Bite, Chapter 1

Read on AO3!

Read The Glint Off Your Fangs

A/N: We return to the Markiplier vampire AU with some angst. Enjoy!

Warnings: Vampires means blood drinking, and that's about it for this chapter.

--

Yancy looked up at a knock on his room door, moving to close the curtains before letting the guest in, smiling when he saw Murdock on the other side of the door.

“Hi,” he said shyly, scratching the back of his neck before stepping aside. “I forgot youse were coming.” Swiftly he swept the papers off his chair, motioning for Murdock to sit down, then sat opposite him on his bed.

“I should have sent Host to let you know,” Murdock replied uneasily, moving to stand up before Yancy waved him back down. “I was wondering if you’d like to see the room we’ve been setting up for you, so that you didn’t have to bunk with Illinois.”

“I-I’m fine with this room, thanks,” Yancy stammered, looking down at his lap before glancing at the far wall of the room. “It may not be the largest room here, but I enjoy Illinois’ company. Besides, maybe I’ll find a secret entrance out of here,” he finished with a chuckle, throwing his head back and freezing when he caught Murdock’s gaze on his neck.

Murdock caught himself staring, clearing his throat uncomfortably and forcing himself to look away, feigning an interest in the patterns on the carpet. He heard Yancy gulp, could hear the way his heart seemed to beat slightly faster as he considered something, then he looked up when Yancy moved to stand in front of him.

“D-Do youse want to…” he trailed off, circling his finger in the air beside his neck, face pale as he looked nervously at the vampire in his room, wondering why he would possibly offer more of his blood to Murdock.

“I-I… I need to go out,” Murdock said, face red as he left the room, door slamming behind him making Yancy jump. His fingers reached up to gently brush against the place Murdock’s bite mark had been, then he shook his head and turned around to continue examining the walls.

----

Murdock moved swiftly down the hall, mind in tunnel vision as he struggled to think of anything but the taste of Yancy’s blood on his tongue. He pinched the centre of his palm, hissing at the sharp pain he felt, then turned around a corner and let out a short yelp when he bumped into someone, hands moving to hold their upper arms.

“Oh! Sorry, I didn’t see—” Illinois’ apology was cut off by a gasp as Murdock sank his fangs into his neck, uncaring of boundaries, only focused on feeding to distract from his need to drink more of Yancy’s blood. Illinois grasped at Murdock’s arms, trying in vain to push him away before his knees gave out, clinging to Murdock for support as the vampire continued to feed from him.

Murdock pushed his fangs deeper into Illinois’ neck, swallowing the blood flooding into his mouth greedily. His hands moved from Illinois’ arms to his shoulders, holding him up and close as he kept drinking.

“Murdock! Stop!” He released Illinois with a snarl when Noir grabbed his shoulders to pull him away, glaring at Host holding Illinois upright. He struggled against Noir’s hold, growling while Host moved Illinois to a chair in the hall.

“Murdock, what the hell are you doing?” Host asked quietly, pulling a handkerchief from his coat pocket and pressing it to the bite wound on the adventurer’s neck, persisting when Illinois weakly tried to bat his hand away.

“We need to call Dark,” Noir stated, arms wrapped around Murdock’s torso to keep him back, frowning with a pale face at the sight of blood covering Murdock’s chin. “Or Actor. Is Illinois alright to sit there for a minute while you find help?” He directed his question at Host, who had succeeded in getting Illinois to press the handkerchief against his wound.

“I think so. Can you hold Murdock back?” Host replied, already standing and fixing his coat before trailing his hand along to wall to aid him as he headed for help.

“What’s going on? Is Illinois alright?” Yancy asked as he entered the hall, immediately running to Illinois and crouching in front of him, waiting for the adventurer to register his presence before checking his neck. “Who did this to him?”

“Murdock lost control,” Dark declared as he walked down the hall toward the others, followed by Host wringing his hands with concern. “He’s trying to court you, but he doesn’t want to feed from you unless you consent to it. Instead, he lost control and attacked the first creature he came across: Illinois.”

Yancy looked from Illinois’ blank face to Dark, then turned frightened and betrayed eyes on Murdock, face pale. The vampire looked back at him, breathing heavy as his lips curled up in a snarl, eyes a deep red.

“Help me take Illinois back to our room,” Yancy directed his plea at Dark, then followed as his friend was carried away, not once looking back at Murdock as he bit the inside of his cheek.

---------

@iamvegorott @brokentimewatch

[newtabfics]

here me out… astarion feeding on the reader WHILE they climax… (preferably fem!reader, but it’s up to you).

JFDkFSJLK EHEHEHEHEHEH

Triggers for blood drinking

"C'mon then. Don't hold back. There's my pup. So good," he moaned as her walls tightened around him. He bit his lip, groaning as he watched her back arch, hearing the rush in her veins. "Fuck, I want to taste you. Please. I want...If you're okay with it--"

"Yes," She whimpered, cheeks flushing as he smirked. "Stop teasing me already."

"You're just so fun to mess with," He hummed before kissing her. "My love...thank you."

Y/N let out a louder moan as his fangs sunk in, grateful he'd found an isolated spot away from the group. She couldn't help as she toppled over the edge, nails digging into his back to feel scars along his flesh.

"Fuck, Astarion!" She moaned, making him grunt as he gripped her hips tight, thrusting harder.

He whined when he pulled away, her blood trickling down his chin as he pumped her full. He knew he should've pulled away, pulled out, not filled her to the brim, but gods above.

Her taste.

her clenching walls.

He was a greedy bastard through and through as he continued to drive into her, pushing aside the load he just spilled into her to ready her for another.

"Can't stop," He mumbled into her ear. "Sorry, pup. I can't stop. You feel too damn amazing."

He was surprised when her lips pressed to his as tears trickled down her face. He snarled happily as he held her, careful not to grip too tightly as he slammed himself into her.