#man they fleshed this out so well considering isabelle's barely been on the show

[booasaur]

Fear the Walking Dead - 7x06

[bitterlikesweets]

Love Bites Ch 3

This is the third chapter of a modern/vampire AU ereri fanfic. You can also read it on Ao3.

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Cool fingers curl into Eren’s hair, and they tug gently, causing Eren to pull his mouth away from Levi’s wrist with a gasp. Warm heat blooms in Eren's stomach and swiftly spreads outwards, until he can feel the tingle of warmth in his fingertips. He feels like he’s just had a warm mug of cocoa, and he’s also a bit disoriented and groggy. That grogginess is why Eren is a second too late to stop himself from swiping a lick across Levi’s pale skin, sweeping up the little red droplets forming where his fangs pierced the skin.

Eren's appalled at himself, and the feeling only intensifies when his cheeks grow hot. He finally has enough blood in his body to blush, but he almost wishes that he doesn’t. His body is warm and content, but his mind is a frenzy. Eren opens his mouth to apologize, but the words clog in his throat when he hears Levi hum appreciatively.

“Seems like your instincts are good for something,” Levi says, swiping his thumb over the bite mark as he takes his arm back.

Eren stares at Levi’s wrist, at the small wounds that are already closing.

“I—how is that—”

“Vampire saliva has a bit of healing power,” Levi says, reaching into the front pocket of his pants and pulling out a small travel pack of tissues. “It’s nasty as shit, but at least it has a purpose.”

Eren watches as Levi carefully wipes his wrist off with a tissue.

“So I was supposed to do that?” Eren asks.

Levi looks up at him but doesn’t speak, a silent request for him to clarify.

“I, uh—” Eren clears his throat and hopes his face isn’t as red as it feels—and oh God, that’s Levi’s blood that he’s blushing with —before he continues. “Licking you.”

Levi nods.

“Unless you’d prefer that I bleed all over the table,” the man says.

“No,” Eren says, still staring at Levi’s wrist. “Definitely not.”

Levi tucks his tissues back into his pocket and then rotates his wrist, testing the movement. After a few rolls, he seems satisfied, and he clasps his hands together on the table before directing his attention back to Eren.

“Alright, kid—”

“Eren.”

“...What?”

“Eren. My name.”

Levi stares at him for a moment, but Eren just holds his gaze until the man huffs a little sigh and begins again.

“Eren, I’m going to make a deal with you. I’ll teach you what you need to know, and you can drink from me until we figure something else out. Sound good?”

Eren frowns.

“What do you get out of it?”

“I get to know that there’s not some uneducated vampire running around killing humans because he never properly learned the rules,” Levi says.

Eren winces, thinking briefly of his mother before he nods.

“I agree then,” Eren says, but he frowns again. “Levi, you’re human, right?”

“You wouldn’t be drinking from me if I wasn’t,” Levi said, leaning back in his chair.

“How do you know so much about vampires? I mean, I didn’t know they were real until… You know...”

“Ah, good question,” Levi says, and he gets up.

Eren watches curiously as Levi walks to a filing cabinet in the corner of the room by the window. Levi pulls open one of the drawers and plucks something out of it, though Eren can’t see what it is from his spot at the table.

“Catch,” Levi says, and he turns around and throws something without any other warnings. Eren scrambles to grab it out of the air, but his stomach drops once he sees what it is.

The warmth from Levi's blood seems to flood out of him, and Eren sits, frozen, as he stares at the small wooden stake in his hand. It’s no wider than a ruler, barely longer than a pencil, but it’s sharpened to a point that Eren is sure would have no issue piercing his flesh.

“I’m a hunter,” Levi says. “Or I was, anyway.”

“A hunter,” Eren echoes, his gaze still locked onto the stake in his hands.

“A vampire hunter,” Levi says as if Eren needed clarification.

“Oh,” Eren says.

“Don’t worry,” Levi said, “I’m not in the business anymore. Even if I was, I know which vampires need to die and which don’t.”

Isabel’s words echo in Eren’s head. ‘Levi’s never wrong.’

“And I’m not one that needs to die?”

“No,” Levi says, and he walks over to Eren and takes the stake back, though Eren doesn’t feel any better with the weapon in Levi’s hands. “You’re one that needs to be taught. As long as you learn, I won’t have to do anything drastic.”

Anything drastic. Like stabbing Eren in the chest.

“Right,” Eren says, but his voice is wavering.

Levi sets the stake on the table between them before going back to his seat, and Eren hunches in his chair from the weight of the silent threat.

“Hey,” Levi says, and Eren reluctantly drags his gaze up to meet Levi’s. “Relax. The only reason I’d ever have to hurt you is if you ended up like those freaks who crashed your birthday party.”

Levi raises his arm to show Eren, wrist up.

“We’ve already stopped that from happening,” Levi says. “I only showed you the stake because you asked.”

“I just asked how you knew about vampires, not for you to show me your weapons,” Eren grumbles.

“My bad,” Levi replies, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “I didn’t know you would feel better not knowing. Better keep all the other weapons concealed so that I can use them on you without you expecting it.”

Eren sits up straighter, his eyes darting around the room.

“Other weapons? What other weapons?”

“Oh?” Levi raises his eyebrows at Eren. “Here I thought you didn’t want to be shown.”

“Well, if they might be used against me, then I’d rather know!”

“That’s why I showed you the fucking stake, you dumb brat. You shouldn’t have complained.”

“Okay, I’m sorry!” Eren exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. “Will you show me where the other weapons are now?”

“Fuck no.”

“Wha—”

“How about this: I’ll show you one concealed weapon after every lesson. Gain trust on both sides.”

“I thought you did trust me!”

“I said I didn’t think you had to die, not that I trusted you.”

Eren groans in frustration, dropping his head onto the table.

“Okay,” Eren mumbles, his cheek pressed against the wooden surface. “Whatever. I agree.”

He turns his head to look up at Levi, who is already staring down at him.

“Can you at least tell me how many there are?”

“Hmm…” Levi begins, and for a moment Eren is hopeful. “No.”

Eren sighs and presses his forehead against the table, resigned to the situation. It will be fine, right? As long as he doesn't go “feral,” as Levi put it, the weapons won't matter.

...He just has to make sure to never tell Mikasa.

“You’re looking a lot more lively now,” Levi says, and Eren raises his head.

“What do you mean?”

“The other night, when you came here for the first time,” Levi explains, “I could tell you were starving yourself.”

Eren blinks.

“Is that why you…?”

“I gave you the blood as an apology for the garlic, but that was part of it, yes.”

Levi reaches out, and Eren tenses as the man’s hand comes up to his face. Levi’s hand falls on his cheek, and Eren freezes, holding his breath. The man’s eyes betray nothing as he tugs the corner of Eren’s mouth with his thumb.

“You could pass as one of living like this,” Levi says, pulling his hand away.

Eren blinks up at Levi, his cheeks burning up again, and the imprint of Levi’s cold hand on his face still lingers on Eren’s skin. He barely resists the urge to cover up the spot where Levi touched him with his own hand.

“I-I’m assuming that’s good,” Eren says once he’s a bit calmer.

“That’s the ideal,” Levi says, pointing at his own lips with his finger. “Your fangs were so big last week, I could see their shape even with your mouth closed.”

Eren instinctively covers his mouth with his hands.

“It was that obvious?”

“Anyone familiar with vampires would notice.”

Levi frowns for a moment, shifting his gaze away from Eren.

“You… Before me, when was the last time you drank?”

“I think when I turned,” Eren replies. “I don’t remember much. I just… I woke up on the floor of my house with blood on my mouth. I called the police right after.”

“...I see.”

“Why?”

“We don’t need to talk about it right now,” Levi says quickly.

Now it’s Eren’s turn to frown.

“You brought it up. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Levi closes his eyes, massaging the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.

“You’re not going to like what I have to say.”

“Just tell me,” Eren says firmly.

“Well… Under normal circumstances, it should always be like it was for you this week. After getting blood, you’ll get thirsty again within a week, give or take, if you’ve had a healthy amount.”

“What’s considered a healthy amount?”

“Depends on the human you’re drinking from and how fast you’re swallowing the shit up,” Levi says, “but usually you shouldn’t drink any longer than five minutes. That’s why I stopped you, so you learn my limits.”

Eren nods, starting to get a vague idea of what Levi was trying to say. He remembers Levi’s fingers in his hair, gently urging him to stop.

“So the fact that I went without for months…”

“It’s an anomaly,” Levi says. “Either you’ve got a stomach of steel or you drank too much the first time.”

Eren’s stomach twists. He doesn’t like where this conversation is going.

“What are you saying?”

“You said you drank the night you turned. Do you remember who you drank from?”

Eren wants to vomit.

“Stop.”

“It’s just an idea. I wasn’t there; I’m not going to pretend like I knew what happened.”

“But you’re saying that I fucking drank from my mom. Drank too much .”

“Like I said, it’s just an idea—”

“Are you trying to say I killed my mom?” Eren snaps, pushing himself to his feet.

“No,” Levi says quickly, his gaze dropping to Eren’s tight grip on the table and then back up to his eyes. “Of course not. If you were attacked, then she would’ve been dead before you got to her—”

“So I did exactly what those fucking monsters did to her!” Eren exclaimed. “Is that what you’re trying to say to me?”

“I’m not trying to say anything like that—”

“Then, what the fuck are you trying to say? ” Eren snaps, clutching the table in an attempt to keep himself calm, but he can’t help it. The warmth in his stomach has risen to his chest and now it’s boiling and he thinks of his mother, of what she looked like, and he thinks of her throat.

Eren is so fucking stupid. Of course, he drank from her. How had he not seen that before? He had repeated the fact so easily before. The day I turned was the first time. Why had he not thought about it for even a second? He was so focused on not having any more blood, focused on clinging to his humanity. In reality, the only reason he was able to cling to that false dream for so long was because he was a monster—because even among monsters, he had done something that he shouldn’t have done.

“Eren,” he hears, and then there’s a hand on his arm, and Eren recoils, instinctively yanking his arms away.

It’s only when he hears the crash that he realizes he was still clutching the table.

He stares at the table in shock. It’s across the room now, flung onto its side. Its legs knocked over a potted plant by the door, and the base of it slammed into the wall and knocked down a painting.

Eren is shocked into silence, and he steps away from the table until his back is against the wall. When he looks down at his hands, they’re shaking. His whole body is shaking. There’s violent knocking on the door, and Eren hears Isabel and a voice he doesn’t recognize desperately asking if everything’s alright.

“We’re fine,” Levi shouts, and the banging stops.

Eren raises his head, eyes wide with shock and fear, fear of himself.

“I-I don’t—I don’t know how—I’ve never—I didn’t know —”

“It’s alright,” Levi says, and his voice is soft, as if he’s talking to a child and not a monster that launched a wooden table across the room.

Levi approaches him slowly, but those hesitant steps make Eren flinch, wishing his back wasn’t against the wall, and Levi stops.

“Levi—”

“Sorry,” the man says, cutting Eren off. “I shouldn’t have—It wasn’t my place to ask or imply something like that.”

“I… No… That’s not…” Eren swallows, dropping his gaze back down to his shaking hands. “You don’t need to apologize. I shouldn't have—I could’ve hurt you. I didn’t know… This hasn’t happened before.”

Eren slowly closes his open palms into fists, hoping to still his shaking a bit, and he looks at Levi again, who is still standing in the center of the room.

“You’re not upset?” Eren asks quietly, and Levi shakes his head.

“It was my fault.”

“It is not your fault that I fucking threw a table.”

“It’s my fault that you got worked up like that,” Levi says, and he takes a slow step forward, his eyes pinned on Eren, watching for a reaction. “My curiosity got the better of me.”

“It’s—” Eren swallows, “it’s okay.”

Levi reaches out once he’s close enough and takes hold of Eren’s fist.

“Consider this lesson two,” Levi says. “When you have enough blood, all of your abilities are amplified. That’s shit like healing, better senses.”

Levi carefully opens Eren’s hand back up. Eren’s nails have left little indents in his palms. Eren didn’t even notice. He didn’t think he’d put that much force into it.

“And strength,” Levi says. “It should get easier to manage with experience.”

“So I won’t be throwing tables all the time?” Eren asks, desperate to lighten the mood, to distract his mind before he loses his cool again.

Levi looks up at him curiously, but he nods.

“I’m going to need you to put that back, by the way,” Levi says, releasing Eren’s hand.

Eren looks over Levi’s head at the table still across the room and approaches it cautiously, as if it’ll retaliate against him, as if it could seek revenge. When he tips it back onto its legs, the table is much lighter than he imagined, much lighter than it should be. He’s slow as he pulls it back to the center of the room, not wanting to do anymore damage.

When the table is back in place, he looks around the room and sees that Levi has moved. He’s kicking the dirt from the fallen plant into the corner—a temporary solution. Eren hurries to help clean up, picking up the picture that had fallen off the wall.

Eren pauses as he looks carefully at it. It’s a picture of Levi, but he’s far younger, a child. He’s sitting at a kitchen counter in what Eren assumes is Levi’s childhood home. There’s a woman leaning across the counter, handing him a plate of pasta. There’s a cardboard sign taped to the counter, written in messy crayon. “Kuchel’s Kitchen.”

“Less snooping, more cleaning,” Levi says, smacking Eren in the back with something large and heavy.

“Okay, sorry...” Eren mumbles, hanging the picture back up before turning to see what Levi hit him with.

The man is leaning against the table, a stake the size of a small baseball bat in his hands.

“What the—Why the fuck would you need one that big?! How would you even use—No, how the fuck did you hide that in here?”

Levi just shrugs, but he also hoists the stake over his shoulder and points it at Eren. For a moment, Eren is confused, but then he sees Levi’s hand jerk forward, and Eren immediately dives to the ground before the man can chuck the thing at him like it’s a wooden spear.

Eren hears a brief chuckle, and Eren looks up to see Levi with the stake in his hands again, though with it lowered to the floor like a cane instead of pointed in the air like it was a moment ago. Levi’s not smiling, but there’s something brewing in those sharp eyes that looks like mischief, and Eren scowls.

“You’re an asshole.”

“I won’t disagree.”

Eren huffs at Levi’s response, pushing himself back to his feet. Levi moves the stake so that it’s leaning against the table, and what little shift there was in his expression flattens out into something more serious.

“I could instruct you more today, but you’re going to need to come back to drink again anyway, so I might as well spread the lessons out.”

Eren nods, and Levi rubs his eyes.

“Besides, I’m fucking tired. Not all of us are nocturnal.”

Eren rubs the back of his head sheepishly and nods.

“Yeah, sorry for coming so late.”

Levi just waves his hand dismissively at Eren's concerns.

“Just come whenever you start to feel thirsty. The sooner we can figure out how your body handles blood, the sooner I can get you set up with a more permanent partner.”

“Partner?”

“Someone you drink from on a regular basis. Someone you trust. Could be a lover or a friend… Some vampires who don’t have anyone pay for partners.”

Eren nods, but he can’t imagine choosing a partner to drink from, mostly because he’s still reeling from the fact that he has to consistently drink blood at all.

“Bring it up with your friends,” Levi says. “Those two you came with the other day. They already know, don’t they?”

Eren nods again, and Levi, seemingly satisfied, leads Eren out of the break room and through the kitchen. When they enter the main dining room, Eren sees Isabel and Furlan sitting at the only table not cleaned and set up for the night. Isabel has her mouth open, prepped to ask questions, but a look from Levi seems to have her holding her tongue for now.

“Uh,” Eren begins as Levi walks him to the door, “thank you. For the lessons and for…”

He gestures at Levi’s wrist.

“And sorry for lashing out at you,” Eren finishes, dropping his gaze to the floor.

Levi just waves his hand dismissively.

“Don’t worry about it. I get it. Now get going, brat. I want to get some fucking sleep.”

“Yeah, okay,” Eren says, turning to push open the door, but before he steps out, he looks over his shoulder at the man. “See you later, Levi.”

“Mhmm.”

Eren manages a smile before he slips out the door, walking out into the night.