#vampire hunter! reader

[the-kr8tor]

Bloodbath

Pairing: Vampire! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 2.3k

Summary: Your vampire roommate accidentally gets drunk off of blood.

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, vampire hunter! Reader, wwdits au, mockumentary trope, vampire au, set in the pursuit of blood au, cw blood, cw injury, cw suggestive, fluff.

In Pursuit of Blood Masterlist

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Octobie 🎸

A request from @al1x00 — May I have garlic cloves in a heart shaped bottle please? IPOB!Hobie accidentally drinking the blood of a drunk person and now R has to deal with an incoherent tipsy vampire.(Make sure you get some proper rest and drink lots of water! Ly😽❤) --- i could not pass this one up for the halloween theme it's literally so perfect! Thank you for requesting, angel!!!

“Hobie, no!” You yell just as when he's about to lunge at a poor runner, who's unfortunate enough to jog at night, who just happens to run past you and your very drunk vampire roommate in his enormously large bat form.

The camera pans towards the yelling, lenses zooming in, spotlights shining brightly on the man in the shortest running shorts known to mankind and his entire body floating five feet off the ground as Hobie's claws latch onto his shirt. His screams echo around the park, and Hobie's bat shrieks sound above it like an endless click of a ballpoint pen.

You glance at the camera with your wide desperate eyes, mouth agape and hand pointing at the situation. “Put. Him. Down!” Yelling, you jump up, trying to grab hold of the stranger's trainers. “You've had enough blood!”

The scene shifts to you looking disheveled, hair messed up with your cheek having an unmistakable claw scratch while you hoarsely talk to the camera crew.

“Motherfucker drunk from an incredibly inebriated CEO of a shady tech company.” You explain bluntly.

The lens zooms out of your exasperated face, camera showing you hugging the large shrieking bat in your arms with your jean jacket wrapped around his flailing form whilst he tries and fails to bite and scratch you. “I tried to warn him that the fucker had every drug and cocktail flowing in his veins. But noooo, no one ever fucking listens to me!” You shake him in your arms, making the annoyed and adrenaline filled bat yell in his high pitched shriek.

Hobie's face escapes his denim prison, long ears fluttering in the breeze and fangs in full display as he tries to take a chunk out of you. You manage to dodge his attacks, face turning as far away as you could.

With a crunch of leaves underfoot, the cameraman backs away when you accidentally shove your face in the lens. Panting, the man behind the camera makes sure to keep his distance away from you and the angry bat as it zeroes in on the bleeding corpse right behind you. The body's foot twitches, and the producer takes that as a sign to anonymously call an ambulance.

“Fuck!” You stomp your foot down, and the thousand year old vampire stops his twisting and turning to look up at you with his big red button eyes. Hobie makes a sound akin to a chirp, fangs sticking out from his lip. “We're going home, Hobie.”

He trills in your arms, fuzzy head nudging your chest. You can feel how incredibly warm he is under the denim jacket, a sure fire way to tell that he is still under the influence of…everything.

“Don't flash those pretty eyes at me, you little shit.” You start to walk towards his street, hugging him tight against your chest like a chihuahua gone wild. He sneers, and you realize that he's taking a peek into your head and he did not like that thought one bit. “Get out of your head!” You squeeze him in your arms.

Smirking, you flash an image into your mind of him wearing a fancy three piece suit with a look of sheer egotistical pleasure while counting wads of dirty money. He shouts gutturally, now regretting the little peep inside your mind. The sound makes a few passers by look at you weirdly. The entire camera crew following you around doesn't help. “It's a toy, mind your fucking business.” You say to one of them, making them walk faster away from you.

Sighing, you finally see the dark gothic house around the corner. Its spires just screams ‘there’s a vampire living here!’ and its stained glass windows, circular topiaries, and wrap around porch says that the person living inside wasn't born in the same century as anyone else living in the same street. You still have no idea how no one has noticed their thousand year old neighbor. You love the place though, it's home and you wouldn't have it any other way. Even though the pipes need to be replaced with ones that don't give you some type of rusted water related disease whenever you take a drink from the faucet.

Your trainers stomp on the porch, juggling in between carrying Hobat and getting your keys from your pockets. He tries to escape your hold, head wiggling out of the denim burrito you wrapped him in. You can feel his toes wiggling on your stomach. “Don't you dare, Hobart.” With a stern tone, he falls limp, chirping, sounding like a whine. “Don't be cute with me,” you struggle to find the right key in your carabiner. “we're almost there.” You say much softer this time when the door unlocks.

The second you open the door, Hobie wiggles out and then flies off into the house. He zigzags, making questionable turns as he flies under the influence with his large wings flapping about and accidentally swatting away hundred year old vases and furniture.

“I'll let him empty his energy before I try to sober him up.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, arms crossed as you watch him fly around with endearment. He looks and sounds adorable just squeaking and flying about.

Closing the door, the crew stands just behind you, capturing the perfect moment when Hobie, again, a thousand year old vampire with abilities beyond human comprehension and years of forgotten knowledge from fallen civilizations inside his mind, flies into the far end of the hall. Crashing into the mauve wallpaper, leaving a Hobat shaped mark of dried blood from his unfortunate victims.

His claws try to keep him on the wall but his bat body has run out of steam. He slides down the wall, claw marks dragging down and scratching the wallpaper.

You briskly walk towards him, concerned, you walk a bit slower to feign nonchalance in front of the camera. Once you make it to him, you bend at the waist to look down at his stretched out form. His wings are unfurled, belly up, and ears perked as he sees you in his vision.

“You done now, Hobie?”

With a puff of black smoke, he returns to his form. His legs are sticking up and folded against the wall, arms stretched out next to him with his lopsided grin thrown at you.

“‘ello, lovie.” He chuckles, or giggles more like, as he makes grabby hands up at you. “What am I doin' on the floor? We havin’ our fun time on the floor now?”

The camera crew looks at each other with furrowed brows and questions swirling in their heads. You spare them a look of embarrassment that quickly morphs into fake ignorance.

“Not today,” you say gently, his red eyes sparkling in the yellow light of the hallway. You always wonder why he chose yellow bulbs in some parts of the house including his room. You have a feeling it's because it reminds him of the unobtainable warmth of the sun. “You need your coffin.”

“Will you join me?” He asks, fingers flexing about as he beckons you over. You indulge him, leaning down to let him grasp at your jaw. Surprisingly, he holds you carefully like you're the most valuable thing in the house instead of all the artifacts he gathered throughout the centuries just laying about the home.

“You need to sober up, and you can't do that when I'm hogging all the space in the coffin.”

“That's why I keep tellin' you that we should get a bigger coffin that can fit the both of us together.” He brushes his thumb across your cold bitten lips. Gasping like he got a brilliant idea, he pats each of your cheek, squishing it in his hands, careful not to scratch you with his sharp nails. “We should buy one tomorrow!”

You chuckle, hands reaching up to bracelet your fingers around his wrists, grabbing them to make him unlatch himself off of you. “Okay, sleep first then we'll go out to look for one.”

A wide grin spreads across his face. “Really?”

You subtly (or think that it's subtle enough) kiss his pulse point where you would feel his heartbeat if his heart still beats against his chest. “Really, we'll get a red velvet lined one.”

“How about a coffin with a telly in it so you could watch your shows?”

You smile, “I'd like that. For now, shower first because you smell like the floor of a pub.”

“Still fit though, hm?” Hobie winks, but with his drunkenness, he looks like he's spasming. It earns a guffaw from you, finding it adorable.

“Very handsome, my—” you glance sideways at the camera still recording, you've forgotten about them for a second. Clearing your throat, you help him up on his feet. “Let's go before I puke.” Playing it cool, you still look like your pants fell down to your feet.

Even drunk off his mind, Hobie sees through it, arms snaking along your middle, putting a show in front of the camera by shoving his face into the crook of your neck. Not biting, just smiling against your flushed skin. You can feel his fangs poking and prodding at you playfully.

You curse silently, holding him properly and hiding your flustered expression from the camera as you turn your back from the crew.

—

Locking the bathroom door, you made sure that the camera crew had enough tea and biscuits in the dining room before walking upstairs to check on Hobie. The crews’ chatter echoing from the vents prove that they're well occupied and distracted. Turning around, you face Hobie with a soft smile as he lounges in the bubbly bathtub that smells like Halloween incarnate.

“How's the water?” You ask, closing the distance and sitting down on the closed lid of the toilet to look at him fondly.

Hobie places his cheek on top of the edge of the black bathtub, cheek squished on the porcelain. “Just right, love.” He smiles as steam rises from the water, condensation rising up to the forest coloured tiles, “and the children?”

“Occupied with my expensive biscuits from my godmother.” You place your chin on your palm, eyes flicking from his wet face down to his shimmering torso. “You seem to be having fun with my bath bomb.”

He chuckles, fangs peeking out from his lips. A sign that he's extremely happy, you know it well. “It's red!” With a handful of bath water, he pours it from above to show you its crimson hue. “You're such a big fan of me aren't you? Mimickin’ a fraction of my power.”

“You bathe in a tub full of blood? I don't remember you ever doing that, Hobart.” With a roll of your eyes, you stand up only to sit back down next to the tub. Sitting cross-legged, you place your arms on the cool edge of the porcelain, eyes staring up at Hobie with pure affection while your index finger swirls patterns in the glittery red water. “Sounds like a great bath though.”

“Says the vampire hunter.” He dabs a droplet of water onto the tip of your nose, watching it slowly drip down into the tub. “Stop it with the bloody Hobart, thought we got past that months ago.” He seems completely sober by now, the blood juice box (that may or may not have come from your veins) helped a lot in flushing his system. You always kept them fresh in his freezer next to your orange popsicles.

“Whatever you say, Hobat.” You wink, feeling relaxed with the warmth from the water and the cinnamon pumpkin smell.

Hobie smiles softly instead of scoffing like you thought he would. A single fang peeks out from under his lip, reminding you of an adorable cat. He reaches for your hand closest to him, and then slowly, he puts his head atop your hand, nuzzling close to you. Thumb brushing along your scratch mark on your cheek, he looks apologetic while he heals it with his touch alone. Literally, it's nonexistent now that he poured a fraction of his power atop your warm skin.

Your heart squeezes in your chest. “Just curious, can you turn into a cat?”

“Is that not in any of your tomes?” He raises a brow, red eyes hazy from the hot water and tender affection from you.

You shrug, laying your head down on your arm so that you're facing him adjacently. “I remember reading that it's a rare ability.”

“Yeah?” His eyes soften, leaning ever closer to you. You can feel his cold touch amidst the warmth of the water as his lips gently caress your jaw. From the tip of your jawline down to your chin, he kisses you with so much affection that your breath hitches in your throat and nothing in your mind remains but his lips upon your own. “Tell you what,” he says against your waiting lips. “I'll tell you in exchange for a proper kiss.” He didn't need to open his mouth to say those words to you, you can hear his deep voice in your mind. Whispering those words only for you.

“Deal,” you reply in your mind, and he grins, showing you his fangs that have never scared you. Sharp ends that have always been gentle against your soft skin, fangs that were meant to leave you bone dry, but he never does. Only leaving you woozy on your feet, happy that you've helped him, content in the arms of someone you were meant to kill— taught to kill. You're glad you didn't that day, that day you got close with your wooden stake mere inches away from his heart that you now adore.

He kisses you, and you don't mind the copper taste anymore as the kiss gets sweeter than ambrosia and as saccharine as nectar whilst he pulls you into the tub with him.

Support banner by @/cafekitsune

Custom banners by @the-shroom-garden

[misstycloud]

Imagine yandere vampire hunter finding out he married one of the creatures he vowed to destroy. The very monster he dedicated his entire life to kill.

“…no..i-it can’t be..” his voice was barely a whisper, but you heard it loud and clear as if he was right next to you.

You stood still in the darkness, your face was a mask of indifference. If you hadn’t been blinking he would have mistook you for a statue. It appeared you’d been careless and let yourself be seen- by him no less. You could still feel the warmth of the blood dripping down you chin; a curtain of red fell down the front of your dress and stained it.

“Please tell me this isn’t real..” your husband let his eyes wander to the soon-lifeless body laying not far away. Small puffs of air was seen coming for the person, indicating they were not yet dead. The disgusting sound of gurgling in one’s own blood sent a shiver down his spine. His eyes met yours, searching for any sort of confirmation that everything was indeed a figment of his imagination.

“It is, I’m afraid.” You said.

He let out a devestatd choke, muttering ‘no’ over and over while shaking his head, clearly in denial.

You reminded yourself not to show any emotion and stepped forward. “I will not lie to you and therefor I will utter the clear truth in front of you. I am a vampire.”

“No, no you’re not.” He refused to believe it. If it had been his friend, he would prioritise duty before friendship. If it was his brother, he would do the same. Even if it was his own parents, he would die before letting insensible things such as emotions to come in the way of doing what is right. But this was different. It was you. It can’t be you. It could never be you.

But it was. Clearly. The evidence- the body- was right in front of him, unblinking and unmoving.

“You cannot look away from what is in front of you-“

“Stop saying that!” He suddenly shouted, surprising you with the sudden change in tone. “You can’t be one of….them.” He expressed in great repulsion.

Despite knowing how evil your kind is, you still though of yourself as quite good- well, as good as you can be when you’re a blood sucking, murderous creature of the night. So your husbands disdain awoke some sort of defensiveness in you.

“Wel, I am. And I have been for a while now.”

He seemed to think for a moment. Then he asked, “how long? How long have you been a…a vampire?” He furrowed his brow at the end, not believing he’d ever connect ‘you’ and the word ‘vampire’ in his life.

“36 years. Not as long as some others, but it should still count as something.”

“Oh god..”

It meant that you were one since the start- no before- your marriage. Was he truly that blind? Had love taken such hold of him that he could no longer do his job properly?

How many vampires had he killed during you union? All that while simultaneously being wed to one himself. While loving one, caring for one and even making passionate love to one. It was like some fucked-up punishment tailor-made for him.

He knew what he had to do.

The first tear fell down his cheek, betraying his stern expression and showcasing his endless sorrow. “You are evil,” he raised his crossbow, “and now you have to be judged for your crimes.” How ironic of him to talk about committing crimes of slaughter as if he wasn’t doing exactly the same. He wasn’t stupid, not all immortals were pure darkness, it wasn’t that simple. They do what they have to in order to survive. Only some killed more than they had to. Still, it didn’t change the fact that they all need to be destroyed.

Your eyes widened when he pointed the weapon straight at you. You expected this. Of course he would kill you. However, a part of you could not stop from hoping he wouldn’t think of you as a monster. That perhaps you’d finally find somewhere you can call home and be accepted for what you are. It was a naive dream. Weren’t you his wife before you were a monster? Apparently not, because an arrow shot at you at incredible speed. It hit you in the arm and you cried out in pain.

While you had physical advantages, it doesn’t mean you are immune to pain.

Ripping it out, you studied the black liquid staining it. Your husband swore and immediately prepared to launch another. You felt your fangs grow in length and you hissed at him. Throwing yourself at him the two of you rolled around on the floor, each trying to restrain the other. You managed to get ahold of his crossbow and threw it away form his reach.

Your husband quickly dug into his pockets to grab a dagger, and tried to stab you. Luckily you stopped him in time, fighting him with your vampiric strength. You had to give it to him, he was surprisingly strong for a human. Despite you having supernatural gifts, he was definitely a match and you had a hard time holding you down. If it was any other situation you would have been impressed and rather seduced by his sheer strength, unfortunately this was not a good situation for you.

You leaned down, planning to bite him, but his fast reflexes let him use his free arm to keep you at a distance. He was now on the floor with you straddling him and trying with all your might to end his life.

Your husband knocked your heads together which was the distraction he needed to kick you off of him. You clenched you forehead in pain and backed away. But there was no more time to dwell on that pain, because it was minor compared to what you felt next. Agony was in your side, accompanied by the dagger you had previously defended yourself against.

Your lover was close. Enough for you to feel his breath, and enough for you to see tears running down his regretful face.

“Why was it you?”

Whether he referred to you being a vampire or you being the one he married, you did not know. It hardly mattered anyway.

In a way, you did love your husband. It was probably not in the normal spousal way but it was there. Maybe if you weren’t a blood-sucker you two would have been truly happy together. Too bad fate had other plans. Even though it was true that you were probably evil, you wanted to live. And despite the one threatening your existence was none other than the man who’d showed you the devotion and love you thought you’d never find again, this was not where you wanted it to end.

With a shriek, you used all your power to push him as hard as you could. He flew backwards into the wall. You supposed he’d fainted from the force since he wasn’t making any move to get up. You clutched your side and groaned. You had to get out of there; somewhere safe.

You stumbled to the window and put your foot on the ledge. The dagger he’d stabbed you with must be silver, otherwise it wouldn’t have made as much damage. The wound in your side burned and sizzled with pain. You had no idea if your body would be able to fully heal you in time for when you need blood again- or even at all.

“Ugh….”

You heard a cough from behind you. It was your dearest. He must be sturdier than he looks to have woken up so quickly. He had rolled over to lay on his stomach and had his arms pathetically stretched in your direction.

“D-don’t go.”

You scoffed at his audacity. “What, so you can finally finish me off?”

He whimpered pathetically, “ N-no, I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have done that- why did I do that?” The last part appeared to be a criticism on himself. Nevertheless he continued, “please, I won’t do it again. I was wrong, you’re not evil I know that, I don’t know why I said that. I’m so sorry, please..”

A frown adorned your face. “It’s okay. I’m not evil, but I know I’m far from good- I’m not that delusional.” Then you turned back to the view of the outside world.

“Wait, no-“

“I have to go. I really mean it when I say this, ‘thank you for all these years together, they have been the happiest days I am now able to remember’.

“My love, don’t-“

You ignored his pleas as you jumped from the window. You landed in the dirt outside. You looked back at the house which you’d just escaped from and as you prepared to run off to another town and build up a new life (until you’d eventually have to run again) you listened to the scream of the man who’d been your husband for six years.

What was he screaming? What else if not your name.

-

[spicy30]

Discovered tumblr too late and now my fandom for my show is damn near DEAD

[b1mbodoll]

pairings: yoo karina x f! reader

warnings: vampire! karina + vampire hunter! reader + blood + g!p + biting + breeding

💌: shoutout to soundgasm femdom vampire audios and rose toys!!!!!!

hunting g!p vampire karina .. ‘s a cat n mouse game between the two of you, her coming close enough to turn you, fangs inches from your throat before you stab her thigh with a stake.. you finding one of her hideouts, behind her with a stake before she suddenly disappears, vampire speed allowing her to suddenly have you pressed against the wall.

she doesn’t really wanna kill you! just wants to breed the pretty little hunter that’s been tracking her consistently. n she doesnt seem to mind the back n forth between you two, it only makes her wanna break you more. wants to have you at her mercy, with her thick, long cock rearranging your insides.

you struggle against her, trying to face her but it’s no use, you’re no match for her inhuman strength.

she wants to see you, so once you’ve finished squirming she turns you around herself, keeping your wrists pinned above your head. “aren’t you just the sweetest little thing..” she coos, leaning into your neck n inhaling deeply, her tongue flicking out to drag along your jugular. “smell so sweet, darling. bet you taste even better.”

you sneer at her, ignoring the ache between your legs. “fuck off, m not your bloodbag, bitch.”

“well, that’s certainly no way to speak to someone that could kill you in a second, is it? i’ll rip your throat out before you can even call for help if you don’t behave.”

once you’ve settled down, rina tears your top off, eyes locked on your tits as she uses one hand to tug your bra below them, wanting to get a proper look. “such beautiful tits.. tell me huntress, you seem to hate me, yet your scent carries hints of arousal.. why is that?”

you refuse to meet her eyes, choosing to keep your mouth shut. she simply tuts, groping your chest and pinching your nipple between her fingers.

“well, since you don’t want to tell me, i’ll have to assume it’s because you want me just as much as i want you.”

“did you know i’ve fantasized about this?” she presses an openmouthed kiss to your collarbone, “about how well you’d take my cock in your slutty cunt. and now,” karina slides her hand between your legs, pressing her fingers against your clothed pussy. “looks like i won’t have to anymore. ‘m gonna breed you, human.”

she’s ballsdeep in your hole, her drool making a mess on your neck and chest, strings of saliva clinging to her bottom lip as she pulls away from your nipple, her teeth aching to sink into the flesh.

“fuck— oh god. fuck you, karina.” you groan, biting your lip in an effort to contain your moans of pleasure. rather than snark back, the vampire indulges in a bit of your blood, cupping your tit in her hand before biting the soft skin, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as your pussy clenches around her length and your blood floods her mouth.

she sucks and sucks and sucks, getting drunk off the taste of you, her cock twitching inside of you when your hands push at her head, pressing her face deeper into your chest.

for someone that didn’t seem to want this, you sure seem to be enjoying yourself.

you’re completely delirious from the loss of blood, moaning out her name and once karina’s had her fill you whine at her, trying to press your lips to hers n failing. but she isn’t completely cruel, bloodstained lips meeting yours as she continues to batter your cervix, cockhead slamming into you unrelentlessly.

the taste of iron in your mouth causes you to to wince but the vampire wont let you pull away, sloppily kissing you and making a mess of your pretty face with your own blood.

the sight is enough to make karina come, biting your jaw before pressing her hips into yours, cock impossibly deep inside of you, the tip piercing your cervix as it twitches, spilling rope after rope of her thick, sticky semen into your womb.

and don’t even think of running away; karina’s dreamed of having you as her pet, there’s no way she’s letting you go.

[hopesangelsprite]

The Summoning

Pairing: Vampire!Illumi x Reader

Summary: Being immortal can grow very old, very quickly and Illumi's found that out the hard way. The only reasonable solution would be to find a suitable playmate, right?

Warnings: mentions of blood/death/murder, biting, size/strength difference, fingering, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v, dacryphilia, breeding kink, degradation, female ejaculation, manipulation (vampire compulsion)

MINORS/AGELESS ACCS DNI

Viewer discretion is advised.

Oh, and my love

Did I mistake you for a sign from God?

Or are you really here to cast me off?

Or maybe just to turn me on

Illumi watched with half-lidded eyes as his servants removed a corpse from his feet, nothing left of the younger male but an empty, soulless husk. How many had he gone through now? 30? 300? Whatever the death toll was, it didn't matter. Illumi no longer cared for numbers, the sheer quantity of his years on earth drawing him to the conclusion that they were overrated.

"Bring me the next one.", he ordered while leaning further into the large throne chair he'd taken residence in, "If this one doesn't satisfy me, I'll be draining one of you in their place.". Illumi let threat roll off his blood-stained lips easily, keen on fulfilling it should he be presented another weakling.

There was a brief silence before the doors to his quarters opened, your figure edging closer uncertainly. The closer you got, the better he was able to analyze you. Unlike his previous victims, there were no tears in your eyes or trembling in your limbs. Though you eyed him warily, he sensed you were more curious than afraid. You were quite attractive, as well; with smooth curves just barely concealed by what was left of a skirt and halter top. As you finally got within arm's reach of him, you sank to your knees with fluttering lashes.

Illumi's cock twitched at the sight, the position giving him a perfect view of your tits and exposed thighs. "Do you know why you're here, pretty thing?", he inquired whilst making a mental note of just how fragile you were in comparison to him. To any mortal man, you'd be considered healthy, maybe even too much so for those on the weaker end of the male spectrum. To Illumi, however, you were nothing but a doll, a plaything he could bend and contort to his undead heart's content.

"I was running from my old life... I was promised shelter.", you answered after a moment and Illumi chuckled. He leaned forward, crimson tongue flicking over glinting fangs, and grasped your face with a large, ring-laden hand. "There's no safety for you here, little doll, only death or imprisonment.", he drawled out, keen eyes catching the way your thighs pressed together at his touch. With one hand, you removed his hand from your face, head turning to place a kiss on his palm. The other you placed on his dark denim-clad thigh, fingers tracing patterns into the coarse material. "Then I should aim to please, no?", you inquired as your hand crept closer to his belt.

'Cause these days

I would be lying if I told you that

I didn't wish that I could be your man

Or maybe make a good girl bad

A smirk graced Illumi's lips at your insinuation, lust deepening within him as you carefully undid his belt's clasp. So, he leaned back, dark eyes watching you like a predator behind inky tresses. He pushed his hips forward to allow you better access to him, reveling in the tiny gasp you let out upon freeing his cock. His skin was milky, fading into a pretty pink closer to his weeping tip; a few veins adorned his shaft, a little longer than he was thick. Your mouth watered at the sight, core moistening as you took him into your hands.

Illumi groaned at the softness of your skin against his, catching his bottom lip between a fang as you gave him a few experimental strokes. You shuffled closer, knees no doubt bruising from the floor's harsh surface. You placed your chin on his knees, inquiring eyes boring into his as you swiped a thumb over his leaky slit; you were seeking permission, how wonderfully submissive of you. "Go on then, have a taste.", he permitted with a lazy nod.

His breath caught in his throat as your warm, plush lips enveloped his cockhead, your tongue following shortly afterward. You kissed him wetly, the taste of precum unfamiliar yet welcomed. You took him into your mouth once more, this time sucking him as far back into your throat as you could. A deep, satisfied hum rumbled through Illumi's chest as he watched you begin to come up for air, a blood-stained hand tangling itself into your hair to stop your rising and push you down further. "Now, now. Don't underestimate yourself, darling, you can take a little bit more.", he mewled over the sound of your gagging, "Can't you?".

Illumi finally let you up after a few moments, cooing at the sight of tear-streaked mascara kissing your cheeks. Still, your eyes only held a strange look of awe and adoration; one that Illumi found himself mirroring as you continued to suck him off ever so sweetly. Illumi hissed as he pulled you off his cock, leaning down to catch your lips with his. He deepened the kiss as he guided you from the floor onto his lap, the taste of his arousal on your tongue only making him harder.

As Illumi broke the kiss, lips dipping to nip at your neck while his hands slipped underneath your skirt, a low curse escaped him as his fingers met your bare, soaked core. He found his sanity waning. "Nothing underneath?", he hummed as he brought your face close to his, "What a pretty little slut you are.". He locked eyes with you, eye contact unwavering as he pushed two long fingers past your entrance and began searching for that soft, spongy spot he knew would have you singing praises.

You whimpered upon the intrusion, thighs quaking as he began scissoring you open. Illumi took your bottom lip between his teeth and tugged, enjoying your breathy moans and the noises coming from your sopping cunt. "Feels good, doesn't it.", he chuckled as your hips began rutting against his palm, "I think we both know what'll feel much better, though.".

I've got a river running right into you

I've got a blood trail, red in the blue

Something you say or something you do

The taste of the divine

Before you could reach your high, Illumi pulled his fingers from your cunt. Without a second of hesitation, he shoved those same fingers into your throat as he pulled you down onto his cock, allowing very little protest as your pelvises met abruptly. More tears welled behind your lash line as you adjusted to the stretch of him overfilling your pussy, tip nuzzled snuggly against your cervix and g-spot. "Filthy fucking whore.", he spat as he pulled his fingers from your mouth and began manhandling you up the expanse of his shaft, "My filthy fucking whore.".

You cried out in pleasure as he pulled you back down, setting a quick and unforgiving rhythm. Illumi watched your tits bounce beneath the fabric of your top ruefully as he continued to use you like a doll. He growled as he tugged at its neckline, hips bucking up into you as it freed your breasts with a loud rip. You shivered as Illumi leaned forward to take one of your nipples between his teeth, gently tugging at it before swirling his tongue around the sensitive flesh. He continued his ministrations, switching between left and right, with a single hand keeping a bruising grip on your hip while the other busied itself by rolling your clit between its thumb and index finger.

Illumi felt your soft walls flutter around him and he groaned into your skin, pulling your body impossibly closer to his. He released your tit with a loud pop, hips pistoning his cock into you faster as he licked a stripe up your chest and neck. It didn't take him long to find your pulse, suckling over the skin while imagining just how sweet you'd taste. Soon, his cock was throbbing in perfect time with your moans, his high growing closer and closer the more you called out his name and begged him to slow down. Instead, he removed himself from your neck, pulling your forehead against his to lock eyes with you.

The air between and around you quickly grew tense, a steady thrum of energy bringing you closer to your high as Illumi's dark eyes melted into a bloody, crimson shade. "Cum for me.", he moaned into your mouth, head dipping to pierce your skin with his fangs. Without warning, your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave, curses and pleas tumbling from your lips as the stinging pain of being bitten melded into overwhelming pleasure. Your mind grew numb as you came, your arousal spraying over Illumi's lap as he drank you in. And you let him, body trembling and unable to come down from the violent high he'd brought upon you.

You've got my body, flesh, and bone

The sky above, the earth below

Nothing to say and nowhere to go

A taste of the divine

Illumi released your neck after a long moment, tongue lapping up a few stray beads of blood as he pulled your hips flush against his and filled you with his seed. Another tremor crept down your spine at the sudden hot, sticky substance filling your womb, Illumi whispering sweet nothings and pretty vows into your ear to coax you out of the trance he'd locked you in. You blinked once, then twice, to clear the white spots and tears from your vision.

"There you are, little one.~", he purred before placing a kiss on the now bruising bite mark he'd given you, "Was afraid I lost you for a second.". All you could do was whimper, slumping forward to rest your head in the crook of his shoulder. Your scent faintly mingled with sex and iron filled his nostrils, tempting him to finish draining and breeding you. He let you rest, though, leaning back into the chair with his cock still plugging you full as he, too, drifted into sleep for the first time in centuries.

Besides, the venom and cum in your system would need time to take effectively.

[mobbu-min]

hmmmm… i want to watch nosferatu and have malleus on the brain…

(tw possible yan mal? blood and death, not reader tho)

Vampire Malleus that sees you trembling through the ruins outside his territory. A shaky hand holding onto a heavy flashlight and the other wrapped tightly around your midriff. A pathetic form of protection, he muses.

Mortals tend to steer clear from his area. He wasn’t even sure when was the last time he saw one. Surely by your indecent way of dress, it's been quite a long time. Ah, how time flies when you're a creature of the night.

Vampire Malleus that follows you throughout the night. Always stepping out of sight everytime you squeak and flash your light in his direction. He could see the tiny tears pricking at your glossy eyes. Throughout his years, he’s seen fear plastered across the face of many and yet, something about yours has his dead heart thrumming in his cold chest. Maybe it’s your eyes, big and shaky, or your trembling lips that squeaks like a little mouse. Or perhaps, it's because you're just so pathetically human that it lights up his curiosity.

Faintly he could hear the sounds of other humans approaching the area. And suddenly, your fear has disappeared into relief. And Malleus’ serene smile twitches. His fun is over and soon you’ll disappear beyond his reach. It can’t be helped, Malleus sighs. For as fleeting as you were, you sure were entertaining.

And yet as your voice met your friends and you turned to face them, your foot slipped and you came tumbling down. Yelping as jagged rock embedded itself into your palms and exposed knees. You hissed in pain as you examined the blood that began to leak out your poor cuts, dripping and collecting into a puddle down below.

And just like that the smell of your blood has awoken the beast.

The moment your friends made it up the hill they fell down wordlessly. It didn’t even click in your brain what had happened. Eyes couldn’t even follow the large black blurr that seemingly flew down from the sky and picked off your friends one by one. Leaving them not a second for them to scream, not a second for them to feel an ounce of fear.

Shakely you called out for them. No response came, just the sway of the wind. Fear mounted you to your spot. You couldn’t see anything, couldn’t hear anything and the smell of blood, thick and metallic clung to your nose.

And that smell only became more apparent as a pair of sharp slender pale hands reached for you from the darkness. Twisting your head from the lifeless bodies of your friends to the glowing red eyes of a beast. Domineering, lustful. The beast gazed down at you with such ferocity, you were sure you were about to pass. Those hands, stained with the blood of your friends, trailed down to your bloodied hand and lifted it up to its mouth.

A forked tongue slithered from its mouth and slid across your open wound. And just like that, its eyes rolled back and closed, and it visibly shivered. Disgust thick with fear coated your throat at its reaction and your body fought to move. And yet, it’s hold on your wrist turned harsh, knife-like nails digging into the delicate skin of your wrist and you stilled.

Its eyes opened into narrowed slits. Lips parting into a pleased smirk, allowing you to see its long, sharp teeth. And with a voice, deep and smooth and seemingly human, it purred.

“What an interesting find…”

[just-some-user-hunny]

Vampire hunter D and Hellsing Alucard fighting over the same darling

I'm going to have to take some creative liberties and ignore some canon material for this to somewhat work, due to the difference in vampire rules and whatnot in each respective lore and world-building, but this idea was too fun to pass on. I think a dynamic between the two would be so entertaining- seeing as they are both Eldrich horrors in their own respect, yet so different. both are complex characters with many layers to them, so I hope I gave them justice with this.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading! . ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ Their rivalry is inevitable. D has sworn to spend the rest of his days slaughtering the undead- and Alucard is possibly the strongest of his prey as of yet. They are alike, but not- two of a kind, who share the same shadow and bloodlust.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ Alucard is both immensely curious and irked by the vampire hunters existence. A being that is not dead, nor alive. A creature born from both the undead and living. A dhampir.

D is something of a worldly curiosity to him- how can such a thing exist? Throughout all of Alucard's un-life has he witnessed such a being. It both fills him with awe, and unrest.

The complexity has even himself spiraling into an unrestful haze- because finally. A rival. A true rival. A being that has the redeeming quality of a semblance of humanity. He can see right through the dhampir- that sorrow and loneliness and regret is so human. So raw, and unabashedly hidden with shame. What a solemn moping creature D is... Interesting.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ D is troubled by the vampire king. A monster whom resembles the likeness of Dracula- a twisted shadow of his own father, a being from another timeline, who mocks him with his mere existence. Just being in the same vicinity as him makes his blood boil and stomach churn in disgust. Knowing that this violent blood hungering beast is yearning for you makes him sick. The implications that if he fails, and you fall into the monster's claws, that another dhampir may possibly be brought into its wretched existence is simply something he cannot allow.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ The two clash in every possible way- yet align in every possible way. Like a dark twisted duet. Like a shadow clashing with a shadow. It shouldn't be. Two beings having met behind the veil- a veil that should have never been pieced. They glare at one another in the shadows of your footsteps, constantly watching with bated breath.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧The dynamic of being caught between the crossfire of the two horrors beyond the veil is a restless nightmare- yet an enveloping dream. It doesn't feel...real. To be yearned over by these two men monsters is an enigma of itself, and you've inevitably become the taut rope between an endless tug of war. Back and fourth, back and fourth, neither breaking sweat nor losing their footing. Clashing blades, explosive bullets, the silver of guns and swords glinting in the moonlight. Spilt blood, open wounds, unrestrained ferocity. There is no hunter or prey in this dynamic- their very strength teeters on the edge of a blade-steady yet, wavering. All that is established is that they have both set their claim. And neither are willing to give up.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ Their motives are simple, yet complex like entangled string. Red and black thread ensnaring you till you are but a meager little morsel struggling in the spiders web. D wants to eradicate Alucard- rid the earth of his bloodied existence. The very personification of self-preservation and fear of death taken in the form of something bloody and full of hunger has no right to belong in this world. It should be laid to rest.

You, poor little human, are an unexpected obstacle of both himself- and his prey. You're the flesh caged in the bear trap- the butterfly in the web, the pretty patisserie cake on a porcelain platter. He's the jarring metal teeth, the descending spider, the glinting cutlery.

He's a parasite who attached itself to an unsuspecting human- who has no say in the matter. Either you love him, endure him, or despise him, it doesn't matter. He's sunk his teeth into you and won't let go- always in your shadow.

D is a hunter. That's all he has left for himself. He can at least do this favour for both himself, and you. If you call for Alucard's name, it is not enough to deter him. You don't know any better, you can't. You don't know the extent of this horror. You never shall. Never should.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ Alucard is frustratingly simple- yet simply complicated. You are a human who's ensnared his interest- his curiosity and fascination. He wants you, all of you. Your voice...your breath...the smell of your skin...your thoughts and dreams and fears. He wants all of it. He's selfish and hungry, and you are the soothing balm to his wounds. He admits he's a monster- a monster that can only hunger and obsess, he has no shame in that. He accepted he's irredeemable long ago- an attack dog, a weapon, something to command and leash for the sake of numbing the boredom and insanity of everlasting existence. He needs motive. Reasoning. Distraction. And you are the best distraction he could ask for.

He's caught in the swing of finding this hunter's endeavours amusing and annoying.

Leave him be, let him enjoy this last thing. Then he may have his spill of blood.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ Regardless of the madness- it can come in useful for your own sake of survival. You'll never have to worry about being harmed whilst under the watchful eyes of not only Alucard, the no life king, but the Dhampir hunter, D. It is the one thing that they can seem to agree and find truce over. They are content to slaughter the vile beasts that dare to think they can harm a hair on your head, casting aside their rivalry to kill together. Their protection is priceless in a world filled with danger- not even the wealthiest of people could pay a price to ensure such safety.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ those dynamic is full of banter and jeering- Alucard most often the initiator. How can he help himself? This enigma of a being is so ripe and ready for the teasing and prodding. Something that is half monster, half human... It shouldn't be. An abomination as much as himself. Although he shares his hatred through his own twisted morals, the hatred towards lowly vampires who do not abide by nature and kill monstrously with no goal or end- that disgusts him. His respect for the hunter draws a fine line between mutual respect- and despair for his existence.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ "You're disgusted with yourself? As you should be. All creatures of the night deserve nothing. Useless beasts"

"You realise you speak of yourself, Nosferatu"

"How witty of you to clue on. You should know better, do you feel the weight of existence? Isn't it crushing? Yes...it is, isn't it..."

"..."

"For someone who is half human, you are certainly as silent as the dead-"

"Enough."

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ D is... Often wavering with his control around you. Beyond the soft nonchalant veil that he drapes himself with, internally he often finds himself holding back his insatiable bloodlust. You'd probably never guess- by how tamed and calm he is, through both his slow methodic actions and lulling voice- but every part of him is yearning to taste you.

He's not proud of it- ashamed, is the best way to describe it. It's something he's intent on you never discovering- lest you fear him, God forbid. Pain and fear are things he never wants to stir in you from his own doing. He's not the monster who hides under your bed- not the frightening creature who lurks in shadow, hunting for blood. He's more than that, he likes to believe. There's a part of him that regains precious humanity.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ Alucard however isn't a creature who can be swayed easily with the scent of blood- his experience and self control has far surpassed his mindless animalistic bloodlust. Despite the way that he is, He's not one to become lost in a mindless haze- eager to snatch you up and shake you around with your throat in his jaws like he was some depraved starving animal. Although the scent or sight of your blood does utter some excitement out of him, he's never one to act upon it. He'll simply stare at you knowingly, smiling softly and offering to bandage wherever you are hurting. he'll be more than happy to lick the wound.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ You can imagine the taunting this no-life king has in store for the vampire hunter, watching with smug amusement as this halfling struggles to keep his drool in his mouth just from the mere scent of you. It’s adorable. Pathetic.

He loves taunting the hunter- playing with you like a cat pawing gently at a mouse, to see what kind of reaction he can summon out of this nonchalant creature. His lack of response always irks the vampire, so watching him grow annoyed and angry just for merely being too close to you? Oh it’s bliss.

Alucard loves to stray closer- closer and closer, pushing his luck, all under the watchful eye of the hunter. He’s more keen to touch and caress you like this- like a lion with a lamb, towering over you frightfully as you stand there sweetly and innocently in his claws. As if he were playing with his food. Rest assured you'll never be his food, but that shouldn't damper his fun regarding toying with the naive hunter.

You’ll become surely equated with the Eldritch horror of a man swallowing you up in his shadow- standing closer than necessary. Your back practically flushed against his torso, as large gloved hands gently pet and caress you like you were some pretty little thing to fawn over. It doesn’t matter how you react. Either you tremble and swallow anxiously as your throat is swallowed up his palm- his fingertip dragging softly over the skin to trace the hollow in your throat, unsure and confused- or you may simply stand still and allow your loyal hound of a vampire preen and coo over you with patient endurance. It’s not your response Alucard is after, although it doesn’t hurt to enjoy it, but D’s.

He wants his anger.

His jealousy.

His envy.

For D, the sight of your delicate neck in the hands of Alucard is something that never fails to make his stomach lurch in fury. He’ll glare wordlessly at the vampire mutt- his own blood red eyes simmering like boiling viscera as he clutches his own aching throat.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ I know very well how tempting they he’ll say with his eyes, the deep pleased hum rumbling in his chest like a content beast as he tenderly strokes the delicate skin above your artery. Feeling it pump quickly beneath his fingertips, as his eyes glint with amusement at the dhampir’s simmering anger.

See how I can be so near, so close to touch them whilst you salivate and struggle like a starving dog. A dog. That’s what you are.

D could rip him a new one if you weren’t so in the line of fire.

God, this guy's one smug asshole huh D.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ That is not to say that Alucard is the only petty one, because D is just as bad. he can be worse.

It is not unusual for the Dhampir to snatch you away and keep you tucked safely beneath the shelter of his cape- keeping you swallowed up in billowing fabric, nestling you close to his side or ribcage. Silently-softly- he’ll extend his arm out welcomingly, draping his cape open for you to hide if you so please. Please. It is the safest place for you in his eyes, swaddled safely from sight nor scent- with you so swallowed up in his clothes and stature, your pretty scent is masked with his. Practically bathing you in it. All you can do is keep up with his strides as his hand settles securely upon your shoulder, keeping you tucked into his side whenever you walk together.

Look D, as much as I like seeing this assholes face prune up, I'd like our body to stay intact. Hey, are you even listening?

So you can image the irk and seething jealousy that burns like hellfire in Alucards vermillion glare as D unveils you to the vampire king- your form nestled close to him, wrapped up in the safe recluse of the dhampir’s cape. That halfling abomination has rubbed off all your scent and his.

The nerve.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ It's safe to say that they both become clingy in their efforts to claim possession of you no matter how much D refuses the concept of possessing you, they both know deep inside that's what he yearns for with his lonely dead heart.

So be prepared to be clung to by these two towering children of the night. Alucard pressing himself to you like a touch starved dog, possessive and enveloping. His gloved hands resting upon your shoulders or idly stroking your head/jaw/neck. If not in your shadow, he's by your heel- the tip of his own polished shoes brushing against your heel.

He does it so unnaturally fitting. His large hand curling around your jaw, tilting your head up to wipe something off your face. He could so easily crush you, but that thought never comes to fruition in his mind. or he may drape his arm over your shoulder, his gun bracing against your chest like a makeshift shield. (Or perhaps a little empty threat to make your heart skip a little in your chest). He loves how much it winds the Dhampir up.

"Get that thing off her, if you know what's good for you."

"I don't, you see"

"Off."

"What's wrong? You surely don't think I'd hurt her to you? She's my dear little human, Dhampir. Mine"

"She's not yours, or anyone's."

"Is that so."

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ Both are eager to claim the spot to reside in your shadow- both literally and metaphorically. They share the same inevitable fate of losing you to time- so they are insatiably eager to take their fill of life from you. To have the pleasure of watching you grow old and silver, front row seats of your existence- if you will. It is unspoken, the sorrow. It’s a lengthy pause that’ll always settle between them; both fully aware, but not strong enough to say it out loud. It all but makes it too real. Alucard is full of pretty poetry when it comes to the concept of losing you- always grinning and wistfully lamenting how full and easy he’d make life for you, but internally there’s a pit of anger and sorrow inside him that’s festers like rotting fruit. Sweet and syrupy, but spoiled and repulsive. These emotions only come to surface through silent lingering glances of softened expressions, which always throw you off. They’re quiet and contemplate, and for once you don’t feel like a yummy morsel under his watch. You’re something to be mourned and cherished. This deep sadness that dwells hidden in his garnet hued irises.

.‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ D is just as in much sorrow, and that is something that the two creatures of night can fall into agreement with. Immortality is a curse, not something one should wish to possess.

D does not keen to dwell too deeply into the concept of your demise- no matter how peaceful it’ll be. Every smile-line and pretty wrinkle upon your face serves as a reminder to him. He will forever remain porcelain- his hair will remain deep mahogany, whilst you turn silver and frail. Reminding him of how fragile you are- how privileged you are. Still- he is silent with his emotions. Like carved marble set into a beautiful and gaunt expression, never will he show anger or jealousy. He cannot bring himself to bear it.

As long as you are safe and cherished, that is all he can wish for.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ their fight for claim can go on and on, scrabbling for a secure footing in the game they've been began- with no means to an end to finish. They are both strong, no matter how endurable D is- nor how many levels of his own power that Alucard unleashes, there's always a standstill. D could be near shredded ribbons of flesh and fabric, but he'll still stand. Alucard could be standing tall in his armour from his days of impaling and bloody reign, and he'd still be toe to toe with the Dhampir. It's infuriating for the both of them. There must be only one victor, one to take their stead in the shadow of your existence. But it's never ending.

This isn't about simple rivalry anymore. It's a neverending duel between themselves, eager to win or die. Death would be a privilege if not for your own place in the matter. They can't die yet, not whilst you are still breathing.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ you'll be caught in the crossfire of possession and duty, desire and a twisted version of love. It is for you to bear witness to, So don't look away.

[the-kr8tor]

In Pursuit of Blood: A trip down goblin lane.

Pairing: Vampire! Hobie Brown x fem! Vampire hunter! Reader

Word count: 5.6k

Synopsis: You, an amateur vampire hunter, find it really hard to kill the one vampire you were tasked to kill.

Tags: Use of Y/N sparingly, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), same universe as the WWDITS series, CW blood, TW violence, CW suggestive, Mockumentary AU, established relationship, Fluff.

A/N: Special thanks to @al1x00 (ly fr) for the idea! Happy 1k! 🫶 (Enjoy my attempt at humor lol)

Navigation

Hobie's Masterlist

The camera focuses on a leather clad man sitting on a patchwork armrest. His long leg is crossed over the other, metal clinking against each other when he moves. He places his elbow on the armrest, hand under his chin, ringed fingers tapping on his cheek—bored and clearly disinterested. Red eyes lined with dark eyeliner, piercings glimmering under the camera lights, sharp nails painted, he makes the crew suck in a breath.

He's the perfect picture of a rockstar.

The dimly lit gothic home provides the perfect backdrop to the ‘confession booth’, various books, knick knacks from far flung places are littered all over the living room. A grand piano stands proudly to his left, dark oak polished and well taken care off. Tapestries from the sixteenth century are tacked on the walls next to seventies and eighties band posters. His coat rack is full of jackets that look like they come from different times in history.

The producer nods at him, asking for the man's name, his voice just above a whisper so that the microphones don't catch the sound.

He sighs, jaws tighten for a second. “Name's Hobie, Hobie Brown.” His voice shakes the crew's bones. The blond haired producer clears his throat and Hobie rolls his eyes like a spoiled celebrity. “And I'm a vampire.” he says flatly.

The blond gestures for him to continue, asking him how old he is. “Fuckin' hell.” Hobie says under his breath. “Were you not taught manners? Come off it, you don't ask a vampire their age.”

The clipboard holding man, who pretends to be important, asks him why he agreed to the interview if he's so disinterested.

“Fine,” He smiles, showing his sharp fangs, the simple act makes the documentary team's heart skip a beat. “Before you say ‘m following a trend of vampires givin' interviews and a ‘peak behind the cape’ like the wankers in staten island or the lovebirds in dubai. ‘m not, ‘m only doin' this because,” he points dramatically at the clipboard holding man. “Your director told me all proceeds from this goes to charity. And it better be—”

Something thumps outside. The camera sharply turns to the closed floor length curtains.

“Oi, eyes back ‘ere.” Hobie exclaims, the camera whizzes back to his figure. “Again, vampire, been alive for…” he inhales, “a long bloody time. Been a pirate, a cowboy, hell even a rockstar. But always an anarchist.” He says proudly. “I've been rebelling against the one who bit me for centuries,” the camera zooms in on his scowl. “Hate that knobhead.”

Something falls right outside his windows, a groan and a curse sounding out, voice muffled by the walls.

The crew expects Hobie to hiss or even deal with the intruder but he smiles, posture loosening up.

“That,” he points at the source of the ruckus. “That’s a vampire hunter.” Smiling, the crew could hear a muffled ‘fuck you’ behind the walls. “She's been hunting me for a few years now. She—eh, hasn't been close.”

The cursing was louder, camera swishing towards the source, your angry face peeking out from the curtains. The boom mic captures your annoyed growl clearly as you place your face as close as possible on the glass.

“Fuck you, Hobart!”

He chuckles as the crew's face grows with concern. “Don't worry, she's—I guess bad at her job. She's interestin’ though. Y’know what, let me just show you.” He stands up, the cameras and the entire crew follows him through the hallways of his home.

The cameraman almost trips on a stray guitar on the floor. “Careful now, that was a present from some rockstar in the seventies. That's why I leave it on the floor, it works best as a boot scraper.”

Hobie stops in front of double doors, scenes of a love story are carved on the wood.

“It was a gift.” He addresses the doors, “not my first choice but where else would I put the bloody thing?” With a small push, hands braced on both doors, he reveals the expansive room lined with hundreds of paintings and photographs.

He sucks in his teeth. “The entire house is a gift, I'd rather live in a boathouse honestly but this works fine I guess.” Shrugging, he points at the oldest looking wood carving hanging on the wall. A man kneels in front of a woman, rose in his hand as she looks down at him with glee.

“Yes, that's me courting. The wood carver fucked up the scene though, it was more like me ravaging– uh” he clears his throat “…this won't show in pbs right?”

The people behind the cameras shrug as Hobie looks to them for an answer.

“I'll tone it down then, for the children, just in case.” He continues down the lineup of pictures.

Stopping by a large painting of what looks like Hobie in medieval clothing. The painted version of him is surrounded by flowers and trees. His antlers protruding from his head, webs clings to his arms.

“This was when people thought I was fae.” He makes a face, “everyone was tripping on shrooms back then.” walking towards the middle of the room, passing by a few more paintings and tapestries, He pauses on a yellowed painting of a woman who looks similar to you, only less angry.

“Look at her,” sighing, the vampire has heart eyes while looking at the painting. “this was before she was cursed by that bitcharse jealous witch. Now every descendant of hers is cursed to never harm me or any of my spawns, which is bad because they all think I killed their ancestor, and all they want is to kill me. A consequence of dating a vampire hunter during the fifteenth century, I guess.”

“The curse is a two way street, they can't kill me, I can't hypnotize them. It's not that I want to anyway.” he continues.

Another ruckus echoes throughout the house. Hobie smiles again. “I believe she doesn't know about it, so hush, yeah?” He does a double take. “Wait, can you cut that part out?”

—

The second crew runs towards you as you climb the tresses of the house. The camera lens zooms in on your clumsy climbing. Looking down, hearing leaves crunch underfoot, you yelp in surprise.

“What—?!” Losing your hold, you fall on a bush, landing directly at his wild flowers. “Ow! Who the fuck—?!”

—

Now sitting down on a lawn chair, leaves stuck in your hair, face and clothes covered in dirt, you scowl at the producer behind the camera.

Sighing, clicking your tongue, you answer their questions with another question. “Who the fuck are you guys?”

You raise an eyebrow at the words ‘documentary crew’ uttered by the producer.

“Seriously? Who would want to interview Hobart? Scratch that, is it because of those fuckers in staten island?”

A cameraman answers, ‘for charity.’

You blink in surprise, “charity? You fuckin' kidding me? Well if it's for the kids then.” sighing, you resign, looking directly at the camera with disdain, you say your first name. “And I'm a vampire hunter, I mean obviously I am just looking at all the stakes and holy water strapped to me. I look like I'm very fun at parties.” You say jokingly, “and church, probably. Dunno never been.”

The camera cuts back to Hobie still in the large room full of paintings and memorabilia.

“— I didn't do anythin’ wrong. They're absolutely mad at me for no reason—” he stops, thinking. “But I guess I was the reason their family was cursed innit?”

He changes subjects, showing the camera a painting near the end of the room.

“Oh this? This is when her great great great great grandfather almost got me, memories huh? He was mighty fit.” The crew zooms in on a gorgeous painting of a man trying to put a stake through Hobie's heart while he smiles up at him like he's smitten.

“Good times.” He chuckles.

—

“Fuck this.” You say, standing up from the chair, grabbing the mic off from your shirt abruptly. The camera follows you as you grab the lawn chair that you were just sitting on. You then proceed to throw it at a stained glass window. Giving you entry to his abode.

“It was gaudy anyway.” Entering the house, your shoes crunch the broken glass.

—

“Huh, she's inside. That's a record.” Hobie says almost excitedly. “I'll show you the rest of the room after this—.”

The double doors burst open, the camera swivels to you and the camera crew behind you. Holding a stake, you scowl at Hobie.

“Hello, darling, how was your commute?” He genuinely smiles.

“I have a car now, fuck you!” You lunge at him.

Lightning fast, he grabs your wrist right before the stake kisses his chest. The camera crews film on the sides, avoiding getting hit themselves.

“Good for you, finally saved up then?”

Lifting your legs, you kick his chest, you tumble, landing on your feet, staring at him menacingly. “Yes! It's a kia!” you scream before you run full speed at him.

“You got a good deal on it? Automatic or manual?”

“No!” You swing at him, he dodges. “I think I got swindled!” Kick “And it's a manual!” Punch “I’m not a pussy!”

Hobie clicks his tongue, avoiding the pointed edge of the stake. “Point ‘em to me, love, maybe I can get you your money back.”

Stepping back further away, you pause while he stands at the end of the room. Changing your hold on the sharp wood, you throw it at him, he leans slightly, dodging the projectile. it hits the wall right next to your ancestor’s portrait.

“You'll just drink him dry like the last guy!”

He shrugs, making a face that makes you want to punch him harder. “Not my fault he was a knobhead.”

You bounce on your feet, pouncing at him. “He was my dentist!”

He moves to the side, seeing you running towards one of the paintings, in danger of getting smashed by you. In his panic, he raises his arm to stop you, accidentally clothes lining you. His wall-like arm hits you right on your face.

Falling harshly on the floor, you're completely unconscious.

Hobie looks at the cameras with concern. “Shit.”

—

You wake up on an ancient looking couch, it's soft despite its appearance. Lifting your head with a groan, headache punching through the back of your head, you grimace loudly at the camera crew still filming in the corner.

Falling back on the couch, you hide your flustered face with your arm, pulling the blanket further up your chest.

“I promise I'm not that bad at fighting.” You murmur, still hiding your face from the cameras. “You just caught me at a bad time.”

Hobie suddenly appears with a whoosh, he holds a metal tray with tea and a hot compress placed on it.

“Who's giving you a bad time?”

You audibly groan. “No one.”

He places the tray on the coffee table, sparing a quick glance at the camera. “I caught you lackin’ you're not always that bad. Tea?”

Wordlessly reaching up, you flip him the bird. Hobie smiles softly, tapping your legs to give him space on the settee. The documentary crew is surprised that you actually move to give way to him.

He sits by your legs, preparing your tea just like how you always take it. Two sugars and a dash of milk. The entire production staff is perplexed to say the least.

With a clink of the tea spoon against the cup, you sit up, wincing slightly. “Can I get another sugar cube?”

Hobie raises a brow, “it's that kind of day huh? What's bothering you, love?”

You scoff, taking a cube for yourself then plopping it in your tea cup. “Nothing.”

He flicks his eyes at the camera with a knowing glance. Resting his elbow atop his thigh, chin placed on his hand, he pokes at your leg using his foot. Wordlessly having a conversation. With a sigh and a frown, you sip at your tea.

“Ex kicked me out. Now I'm living with the family again.”

Hobie's nonchalance drops, hand instinctively reaching out to you until he realizes what he's doing, he retracts his hand back.

“Shit, ‘m sorry. Their loss.”

“Mm-hmm, consequences of living with someone you've only dated for three months.” You finish your drink in one gulp. “‘sides, I don't have to pay rent anymore.”

“You've got shitty taste in partners.” You snort, half agreeing with him. “But you have to live with your psycho family so there's that.”

You laugh, the camera zooms in on Hobie's pleased expression.

“They're tolerable now, mellowed out after they took out count Belois.” You look at Hobie, copying his position like a mirror.

“He was an arse, did all of us a favour.” he stares at your eyes while the camera continues to film, yet you two don't seem to notice them anymore.

“Yeah, wish I was there though.” You say in a small voice. “They never invite me to those hunts. Always left watching outside.”

Hobie reaches towards you again, this time he actually holds you. Long fingers curling around your wrist, his thumb rubbing gently. “If only they know how hard you could kick.”

“You barely moved when I kicked you.” Chuckling, your eyes sparkle under the dim lights.

“Well it's me,” he inches closer to you in the seat, knee brushing against yours. “But if it was any other vampire out there they would have flown.”

You scrunch your face. Laying your hand down to your thigh, Hobie intertwined his fingers around yours properly this time. The camera captures the confusing scene.

“Because they turned into a bat?”

He grins, showing you his teeth, you don't even flinch. “Nah, because you kicked ‘em too hard. Did you hit your head that hard?” Knocking his knuckles against your temple softly, you move back like lightning has struck you.

“No, I'm actually okay, thanks.” You take your hand away, eyes flitting nervously at the camera then to Hobie. “I gotta go, dinner with the psycho family.” Standing up, you take your belongings from the floor. “You know how it is.”

He looks up at you with an unreadable expression, “yeah, I know how it is.” He says forlornly.

Patting his shoulder awkwardly, your hand lingers for a half second. “Bye,” you stare at the crew in the corner, “bye to all of you, I guess. Don't get eaten.”

The camera pans towards Hobie who just shrugs, fangs poking out of his lips.

—

Hobie eats alone in his empty dining room. The table is long, made of strong narra, designed to sit a dozen or so people. He sits in the head of the table, utensils scraping against the bloodied plate. His goblet is full, untouched.

He looks up at the camera on the other side of the table, observing his every move.

“The table's a gift too.” He says before continuing to eat silently.

—

The camera follows Hobie throughout his day. Roaming aimlessly around the house, he floats above the ground, hand and feet sticking on the wall while he dusts pictures that's placed on the highest shelf.

In the afternoon, he writes music on his piano while he flashes back and forth towards the drums and guitar, testing the music he wrote.

The crew captures Hobie burying something in the backyard. Jacket off, tank top and bare arms in full display. Moonlight illuminating his skin. His necklaces clink together as he shovels in dirt, packing the hole in tightly. The producer asks something about familiars and Hobie scowls at the word.

“No, just no. ‘m fully against havin’ familiars, it's fuckin' wrong.” He sticks the shovel harshly on the soil when the producer questions him again. “Ask me again and you'll be the one ‘m burying next.”

The camera shuts off abruptly.

—

The small supermarket's repetitive jingle from the nineties irks Hobie as he shops for some meat. But what irks him more is the documentary crew finding him especially after he went out of his way to hide from them.

He tosses a box of your favourite tea in the basket, annoyed at the team behind the cameras and boom mics. “Do the lot of you have a tracker on me or somethin’?” Shaking his head, he stomps down the aisle, heavy boots thudding loudly on the floor.

With his leather jacket plus all the metal and spikes on him, Hobie looks like a regular punk shopping for groceries. But if you looked closer, stayed too long in his presence, your flight or fight response kicks in, rendering anyone frozen on the spot.

His ruby eyes scan around the soap display, trying to ignore the cameras and people trailing after him, he gets a whiff of a familiar scent: strawberries and cream, it's you.

Hobie's feet move on its own, carrying him towards your direction. He spots you standing in the fruit section, weighing a watermelon in your hands, knocking on it then listening to the sound closely like you're trying to eavesdrop.

“What's the watermelon saying?”

“Christ!” You jump, dropping the watermelon.

Thankfully he catches it before the fruit splatters on the linoleum. “Just me, love.”

Clutching your chest, you take deep breaths. “I thought I smelled something rotten.” He raises a brow at your comment. “What are you doing here? This is far from your place.”

“First of all, I smell like sandalwood and fresh linen, fuck you.” You snort, rolling your eyes. “And ‘m tryin' to avoid them.” He points behind him, towards the cameras.

“Augh, they're still following you?”

“Apparently I signed a contract, it's not a one time thing.” He places the watermelon back to the crate, taking one that is riper and sweeter just for you. He then gently drops it in your cart, you nod a thanks.

“I told you before don't sign anything when you're drunk off of alcohol filled blood.”

“You're right, lovie, should've listened to you. Can't blame me when I only hear music whenever you open your pretty mouth.” He leans on your cart nonchalantly, giving you his signature smirk that has people falling over themselves for centuries.

“That's not much of a compliment.” You grimace, unaffected by his charm. “Listen, since we're in a public place I'm not gonna try to kill you so please get off my cart, I've got some shopping to do.” Shaking the trolley, he leans away, dismayed. “Also, the owner seems to like me, which is rare enough, so I don't want to ruin my relationship with the old lady. Shoo, Hobart, I'm off the clock.”

“You've got two people who like you now. One more than the other, I suppose.”

You narrow your eyes towards the vampire. “Who's the second one.”

Hobie walks backwards, arm wrapped around his basket, smile blinding everyone in its vicinity. “Me, darling, isn't it obvious?”

The bright fluorescent lights shouldn't do him any favours but by god, he looks amazing under it.

You don't answer, the camera zooms into your hands gripping the handles of the shopping cart, chest heaving, swallowing thickly.

He leaves, going towards the cashier to pay for his groceries. And you spot a sign that's labeled ‘50% off on garlic!’ you glare at the camera, pushing the cart towards the display.

—

Hobie sits on his work table, pieces of a TV are jumbled out on the table as he tinkers with them. His hands shake slightly, he should really feed.

“—‘m pretty good with technology, not like the other vampires. I've adapted well with—” he sniffs, “wait, what's that smell?”

He opens the door to find thousands of garlic circling around his house, “what—?”

“Tada!” You pop out from the side, hands carrying bushels of garlic, no doubt smelling like it too. “Wait, no, not tada, that's in poor taste because you hate them.”

Hobie gags at the smell, eyes watery and irritated. “This is a bad idea!” He rubs at his eyes, tears fully streaming on his cheeks.

“Why? Because it's working?!” You cackle, throwing the vegetable like confetti, one lands right on top of your head.

“Because it attracts—!”

You screech when you feel a sharp tug at your coat. A little green creature shrieks at you, the sound rings your eardrums, almost breaking the boom mic. Its eyes are dark and glassy, ears pointed, teeth sharp.

“A Goblin?!” Falling on your ass, you crawl backwards, watching as more and more of them appear from the bushes.

“I'm a goblin.” The one with a worn out party hat says, voice cracking like foil.

“What are you a Pokémon?!”

Hobie runs after you as fast as he can with the garlic hindering him. “Get inside!” He yells, dragging you towards the door. His hands sizzle atop your arms, the garlic searing his skin.

The creatures skidaddles towards you, towards the smell of garlic. Waves upon waves of green skitter and crawl on all limbs, eyes hungry, mouths agape.

“Hobie!” You hold on to his wrists as the ground scratches your back. Kicking an incoming goblin, you yelp as the door closes at the nick of time.

Claws scratch at the windows and walls. One of them even bangs its head hard on the glass just to get to you.

Hobie hides you behind him, eyes still stinging and skin aflame. “Get to the basement!” He screams when one breaches the house with glass shattering. “Go!”

Running down, Hobie lets you and the crew go first. He grabs a cutlass from the wall, chopping one that comes a little too close to your leg.

You look back at him with worry. “Hobie!”

“I'll be there! Just go!” He grabs one by the neck, throwing it away haphazardly.

It yells a faint ‘whee’ as it sails through the house.

Reaching the large basement, you search for the light switch, a cameraman beats you to it and you yelp at the sudden brightness.

The basement is full of things from different centuries. An iron maiden lays discarded on the corner, its steel rusted and brown. A sculpture of a woman sits on a shelf, it looks like it's a long lost work of Rodin. There's a large tapestry depicting a vampire war that is now collecting dust on the wall.

But the thing that catches your eyes is the massive metal cage that sits in the middle of the room. You would gawk but the swarm of goblins are nearing the basement. The familiar thumping of boots shakes you with relief.

“Cage!” Hobie grabs you effortlessly, you have no time to react as he carries you like a duffel bag by your waist.

The crew follows frantically, closing the metal doors shut behind them just as the swarm gets close. They shriek and bang on the bars, little arms trying to reach towards you.

He lays you back to your feet, dropping the drenched sword on the ground, palms still healing. He cups your face, searching for any injuries.

“You alright?” He heaves, out of breath, legs covered in goblin bites and palms searing but he looks at you like you're the one who's bleeding.

Staring at him with your irises blown out, mouth slightly parted, you embrace him to his surprise and the crew's.

“I'm okay,” you lean away before he could hug back. Hands placed on his shoulders, nails digging into him like he's about to be yanked away from you. “Are you?”

Hobie forgets about the other people inside the cage and the goblins trying to nibble at him. It's only you in his hands, even though the pungent smell of garlic makes his nose itch. Eyes tender, touch gentle, he could only nod.

“Yeah, I'm good now.” His voice lacks the usual charm.

You can finally breathe. “I thought…I'm the only one that's allowed to kill you.”

Chuckling, he traces your jaw with his thumb. “I know. You're first in line, darling.”

The crew stands near the sides awkwardly.

—

The goblins are trashing Hobie's basement, and based on the sounds from upstairs, they're also wreaking havoc in the entire house.

You sit back to back with Hobie in the middle of the cage, away from the bars, hands braced to your sides, his own are mere inches away from yours. He's glad that the garlic smell has wafted away from you, but not enough to get rid of the goblins still hankering for your flesh.

The crew stays away from the openings of the cage whilst a handful of the creatures try to grab at their equipment. It's been hours since the initial attack and everyone's getting hungry and thirsty, including Hobie.

“Why do you even have a dungeon in your basement—? Wait, scratch that, don't answer.” You try to pass the time.

“It was for your great great uncle—”

“Ew!”

“Get your head out of the gutter.” He says flatly, hands shaking from hunger. “I got it so he has a safe place to transform every full moon.”

“What? Huh, so that's why that branch of the family is so hairy.”

He changes the subject. “What were you thinkin’ with the garlic?” Hobie lays his head right on your shoulder, craning his neck to face you, he uses the closeness to memorize your face. His crimson eyes are dimmer than you're used to.

“I dunno, I thought it was a genius idea back then. Y’know, trap you inside, starve you then when you're weak enough I'd put a stake through your heart.”

“It's a good thing you're bloody fit.” He murmurs, chuckling quietly. “You almost got me though.” Your ears pick up the fatigue in his voice.

“And here I thought you fancy me for my amazing personality.”

“That too.” He smiles weakly, feeling the ache in his bones. “We need to get out of here.” His jaw visibly tightens, wanting to get away from you and your scent. Unfortunately it's not so easy when you're trapped.

“I know,” You sigh, Hobie sits up, covering his ears with the heels of his palms. “You okay?”

“I can hear your blood rushing through your veins.” He bites the inside of his cheeks. “Fuck, we really need to get out of here.” Standing up on wobbly feet, you help him up while the crew stands as far as they can without getting slashed by goblin claws.

“You're hungry.” You state the obvious.

“Starvin’” his red eyes flick down to your neck, already feeling guilty from the simple look.

You swallow thickly. “When was the last time you drank?”

“A couple days ago.” His vision blurs.

“Why are you starving yourself?” Scolding him, you guide him back down on the cold granite. “Hobart.”

“Why do you keep callin' me that?” Cold hands against your own, his eyes zeroes in on your face, avoiding the veins in your neck. “You sound like her when you call me that.”

Your eyes soften, warming him with your palms atop his cheeks, you worry. “You haven't answered my question.”

He groans, head lolling backwards. “Got busy, forgot what day it was.”

“Busy with what?” You click your tongue, lifting his head back up with your hands under his head. You search his hungry eyes, making a decision you could regret in the long run.

“If I let you feed, will you be able to get rid of the goblins?”

That has him picking his head back up, waking him up from his hungry stupor. “What—?”

You reiterate, voice determined. “If I let you drink from me can you get your strength back and get rid of the little fuckers?”

“Y/N, I can't let you do that.”

“I know what happens if you don't feed and judging by how the goblins are devouring your entire house like some frat, they aren't leaving soon enough.” You ball his shirt in your hands for emphasis. “I'm letting you drink, just this one time so we could all go home.”

“Are you really sure?”

“Just don't turn me into your spawn, deal?”

Hobie cracks a smile, fangs glinting off the basement lights. You suddenly feel your nerves kicking in.

“I promise I won't. Just tell me if it gets too much, yeah?”

“Okay,” you inhale deeply, tugging down the collar of your shirt, showing him what he needs. “Don't drink me dry.”

“That depends, for all I know you taste brilliantly.” His joke alleviates your fear a little. You're both unaware of the cameras watching, recording everything. Even forgetting that they were there in the first place.

His hand is on the back of your neck, the other is gripping on to your arm like his life depends on it. Eyeing your skin, lips brushing along it, fangs barely piercing, he gives you enough time to lean away.

“Hurry on with it, I need to pee.”

With a deep chuckle, he sinks his teeth in you.

Gasping, you bite down on your bottom lip, stifling any sounds. But Hobie can hear them from your chest, feel how your body quivers with every suck and nip from his teeth.

You whimper and he holds on to you tighter.

He wants to devour you whole, his instincts tell him to ravage you until you're dry and limp in his arms— to rip you apart with his bare teeth. But he doesn't, he's careful and gentle like he's drinking nectar straight from a flower.

“F-fuck…” you let out, hands shaking, sliding down to the back of his neck, pressing him closer.

He turns warmer with your crimson flowing through him, not letting a single drop of the precious liquid dribble from his mouth.

Hobie feels like his dead heart beats once again after centuries.

Eyes closed, you feel like you're on cloud nine. You look like it too, eyes hazy, lips parted, hand holding on to him weakly.

Before he could drown in you, Hobie carefully eases his teeth out from your pierced skin, maw covered in your blood, thumb pressing down to your wounds to stop the bleeding.

It will scar, but you're alright with that thought.

He feels anew. His eyes are sharper, adrenaline coursing through him like your blood in his system. His ears perked at every breath you let out. Eyes blown up like the size of dinner plates, his warm breath fans your cheeks.

Half of him regrets doing it, now that he has gotten a taste, he can't go back to biting random rich assholes. His other half delights in your after taste, so sweet and nectarine that makes him crave more.

You crane your neck slowly like molasses to look at him sweetly through your half lidded eyes, and a soft yet tired smile on your lips. Still clinging into euphoria, vision swirling and heart beating a thousand times per second. You feel like you've ascended and you'll never go down from it.

Licking his teeth, Hobie resists the urge to dive back in. But he's more than that, you're more than a blood bag.

“You alright?” He whispers, he smells like you.

You hum, smiling giddily like a child who just got what she wanted.

“‘m gonna go and kill some goblins now. Stay here for me?”

You hum a tune that sounds like a rendition of ‘happy birthday.’ Giggling, you pat his cheek.

“Yeah, you'll be alright. I'll get you some orange juice after this.”

“Orange sounds nice… such a pretty color. And cookies, yum.” You chortle like you just heard the best joke. “Oh handsome, so handsome. I'm gonna bite you back one day.” Staring up at him, your eyes roll back, falling unconscious.

“Lookin' forward to it.”

Hobie gently lays you down on the floor, standing up, ears listening to your fast heart beat, but it's not enough proof for him. Eyes observing your chest, watching it go up and down, making sure he didn't go too far. Satisfied, he points at the crew cowering in the corner, their cameras still rolling. The documentary won't air anywhere at this rate.

“Watch her.” He says sternly, eyes glaring.

They all nod frantically.

With a swift kick to the metal door, he strikes down every goblin he sees.

—

You sit on the same patchwork armchair, sipping on a warm cup of tea, comfortable and content in your seat. The two pin prick scars on your neck peeks under your collar. The camera has you in the spotlight, zoomed in on your freshly washed face.

“Do you know about the curse?” The man behind the camera asks, his voice wavering with every word like it's taboo to mention it.

“What curse?” You watch as their faces morph into panic. “I'm fucking with you,” you laugh at their expense.

“Of course I know about it. Why do you think I hunt him down? For fun? Well, partly because of it but we broke that curse like five generations ago when my ancestor figured it all out and made friends with the witch.”

Smiling fondly, you continue. “She's my godmother now. Don't tell him.” You warn. “Hunting him down is an initiation for us really, a tradition to try and kill him, just really doing our best to cause damage. He's pretty powerful.”

Laying your elbows on your knees, you look directly at the camera.

“I mean you've seen the room right? He's fucking obsessed, someone has to off him or just—I honestly think he should just move on.” shrugging you sip your tea that he made for you.

“Is that why you're living with him?” They ask unabashedly. The camera zooms out, showing you still in your pajamas, complete with fluffy slippers.

“Uh—”

Hobie appears in the corner, leaning on the doorway casually, a similar pajama pants hanging low on his hips.

“Darling, have you seen my good jumper—?”

You take your crossbow from under the chair, twisting in your seat, you aim it at his head, shooting, the arrow whizzes past him, he ducks down as the arrow imbeds into the oak.

Hobie laughs on the floor, lifting up a black and red jumper. “Found it!”

“Goddamnit.” The word is laced with endearment. You turn back towards the crew, eyes narrowed at them. “Wait, why are you guys here so early?”

Support banner by @/cafekitsune

A/N: Thank you for reading! And happy 1k! 🎉

[rdmasevi]

Crimson Pact

Title: “Crimson Pact”: A Sinners fanfiction

Pairing: Smoke and Stack x Reader Fem ( Vampire )

Genre: Dark Romance | Supernatural |Suspense | Action

Warnings: Blood/gore, Violence, Possessive behavior, Dark themes, Mild sensual tension,

Summary: Hunted and bleeding, a rogue vampire strikes a dangerous, magnetic alliance with Stack and Smoke — two deadly hunters who must decide whether to kill you or fight beside you as a darker war approaches.

You were a myth in this city.

The whispers said you haunted the ruins where sunlight dared not reach, that you could kill a man with a look — or worse, make him love you before he died.

Stack and Smoke didn’t believe in myths.

At least, not until tonight.

They found you bleeding under the broken frame of an abandoned church, your black coat torn, crimson soaking the ground like spilled wine. You lifted your head slowly as they approached — two hunters carved out of war and dust, grim and beautiful in the broken light.

Stack crouched first, his hand resting near his holster. His voice was sharp but low. “You’re not supposed to bleed.”

You laughed under your breath. “Nobody’s supposed to do a lot of things.”

Smoke stayed back, eyes dark, assessing you. His instincts screamed not to trust — but there was something in the way you looked at them. Not afraid. Not begging. Just... watching. Like a queen, or a wolf waiting for a chance to bare her teeth.

"You’re the bloodsucker everyone’s scared of," Smoke said, almost amused.

You tilted your head, blood dripping down your throat like jewelry. “Do I look scary to you?”

Stack’s jaw tightened. “You look half-dead.”

"Half's still enough," you rasped.

The church groaned in the wind above you, a song of decay and dying prayers. Somewhere far off, you could hear the others hunting for you — the ones who wanted your head mounted on a wall.

Smoke knelt beside Stack now, running a gloved hand through his dark hair, studying you like a puzzle he wasn’t sure he wanted to solve. His voice dropped lower, dangerous. "Why shouldn’t we finish the job ourselves?"

You smiled, teeth sharp. “Because if you kill me, you kill your best shot at surviving what’s coming.”

Silence.

You watched them exchange a look — not fear, no, but something close enough it tasted like adrenaline on your tongue. Smoke's hand flexed into a fist. Stack leaned closer, until you could smell the cold iron of his blood through his skin.

"Talk," Stack ordered.

You told them about the war building beneath the streets, the factions of vampires and other things that didn’t have names anymore. You told them how you refused to swear fealty, how your freedom put a target on your back bigger than any human could carry.

"They’re coming," you whispered. "For me. For you. For everyone."

Smoke exhaled slowly. “Sounds like your problem.”

You leaned closer, baring your teeth. “It will be yours soon enough.”

Stack's eyes locked with yours, endless and brutal. “What do you want?”

A simple question. A dangerous one.

You could have said sanctuary. You could have said protection.

Instead, you told the truth.

“You.”

Both of you.

Smoke stilled, the air vibrating with the violence of the moment. He reached out, gripping your chin hard enough to bruise if you were still human. His thumb dragged over the blood at the corner of your mouth, slow and possessive.

"You think you can have us?" Smoke growled.

"I will have you," you promised, voice a deadly caress.

Stack’s hand wrapped around the back of your neck, pulling you closer, until you were breathing his air. His words were a brand against your lips.

"Then you better survive the night."

The pact was silent but absolute. They wouldn't let you die. You wouldn't let them go.

As the church doors burst open with the sound of your enemies crashing through, Stack and Smoke drew their weapons. You wiped the blood from your mouth with the back of your hand and smiled, heart pounding with something that had nothing to do with fear.

Tonight, you would fight beside them.

Soon, you would be theirs.

Or they would be yours.

In the end, maybe it was the same thing.

My main masterlist

[garez19]

yandere! vampire hunter x vampire reader

you did your utmost to hide your silly little secret from your boyfriend. a shame he was always able to see right through you.

warnings/notes: female reader, english is not my first language, mention of injury (not described), not proofread

you love your boyfriend so much. you love alkan, who is a well-known vampire hunter in your town. he’s skilled with his weapons and he knows a vampire when he sees one.

yet you, for some reason, have been an exception to this. he hasn’t found out about your true nature yet. and you’re not sure if he would be as kind as he is once he did. you’d be done, that much was true, but it’d also mean you tricked him. not only a monster, but also a liar you are.

yet, little do you know he already knows everything about you, and he cherishes every part of it. little do you know how he keeps waiting every single night for you to come up to him, crying and confessing, begging for forgiveness. he will be very accepting too, as long as you promise you aren’t going to leave ever -as you pose a serious threat to people in the town-. he will be very tolerant, because how could he do any harm to an angel like you?

as long as you promise to be good for him.

yet you are still stubborn. you’ve gotten weaker as days pass, and alkan is having a hard time waiting especially when he sees your tired body. however, he can’t help but love you a little bit more as you go to such lengths just to stay by his side.

you poorest thing.

if you aren’t willing to tell him the truth, then he would solve it in his own way.

that’s why he is always around you, not giving you time to rest up. he’s always there to watch you, and he never fails to make you feel uncomfortable, as if he knows what you think.

you understand you can’t keep going much longer, and decide to leave to figure it out. yet he still doesn’t let you, coming along with you everywhere you go. and you aren’t even able to protest, because he’s so quick with his “it’s dangerous out there.” excuse. you are trapped. moreover, you are trapped with alkan of all people—the famous hangman of your own kind.

he keeps pressing your buttons. and he finally finds the right one.

“are you okay?” you say, panicked. you knew, you fucking knew he was going to hurt himself when he kept toying with the sharpest knife in the kitchen. hell, it is almost like he did try his best to create a wound deliberately.

“oh fuck… yeah, I am,” he groans. “can you help me patch it up?” he says in pain. you take him to living room with the first aid kit. you both sit on the couch, and that’s the moment it hits you: alkan’s blood smells amazing and you’re about to die of hunger. you try your hardest to do your job as quickly as possible. however, alkan keeps getting in the way.

“wait, it’s too tight, can you loosen it up a little bit?”

“isn’t it a little too loose now?”

“can we get another bandage? this one’s all bloody already.”

fuck. fuck. fuck. you really fucked up real bad this time.

yet you try your hardest, and don’t listen to his protests anymore. you bandage his hand carelessly.

you’re done. thankfully, you finally make it. but oh, a shame it doesn’t matter anymore.

you know you can no longer bear with the starvation —the sharp smell of his blood burning your lungs, you find yourself grabbing him. and as your fangs find their way into his neck, you feel the wetness on your cheeks. you know this must be your last meal.

it is your last meal, and you feel blessed it is with your lover.

your hands are on his shoulders. you know alkan, a trained hunter with a handful of abilities, is most certainly able to overpower you. yet he does nothing. he doesn’t try and push you off. he doesn’t cuss you out.

he hugs you. that’s all he does.

“it’s okay, love” his voice is soothing, and it is the first time you hear him talk like this. “you’re okay.” he adds as he caresses your head. his other hand is on your back, and it feels light, like it isn’t there at all.

he winces in pain. yet he keeps soothing you.

“you’re safe,” he rubs your back. and you realize he’s visibly hurt—finally being fed, you come back to your senses.

fuck.

you are absolutely not safe, you think to yourself as you quickly pull away. you are like a scared cat, ready to attack the second alkan tries anything. yet, again, he doesn’t.

his shirt is all messed up, and his neck is bloodied. you can see his face is paler and he definitely looks drained, the scene makes the tears burn your eyes once again.

alkan pulls you towards himself. and then he kisses your tears. softly and slowly. when he finally pulls back a little, he gently grabs your face. his thumb on your cheek, making slow moves like he’s scared of breaking you.

“poorest little thing,” he cooed, “you must’ve been starving for so long.”

you gulped. there’s a metallic taste in your mouth. “I’m sorry.” is all you can manage to let out, and you feel like you can really use an eternal sleep after you just had your last meal. “I’m so sorry.” you say once more.

he doesn’t budge.

“why didn’t you tell me sooner? we could’ve figured something out.” he says calmly, and it all makes you feel like it is gonna be okay, like you are not in trouble at all.

but you know his calmness means you are in danger.

“let’s get you cleaned, love.”

[livelaughlovesubs]

Nini, what about vampire Fyodor x vampire hunter reader (〜^∇^)〜 like you’ve been assigned to hunt down and bring the head of Fyodor Dostoevsky to uhh.. a king idk.

So you track Fyodor down and instead make a deal with him. You won’t kill him and actually let him feed off you and he lets you fuck him (ゝз╹)

At first he’s hesitant. A well ranked hunter coming to him and proposing a friends with benefits arrangement sounds pretty suspicious, but hearing the offer that you let him feed off you makes him agree since it’s an easy meal and he was planning on betraying you later on.

Thats until he’s bent down on all fours and being pounded like wild animals in heat. The vampire is so touch starved that he can’t handle the pleasure and tries biting anything he can (let’s just say you were left with a bunch of bite marks) After that experience he traps you in his manor and begs you to stay with him, maybe he turns you into a vampire as well

-🍮

I had so much fun writing this haha, and I had to brainstorm trying to fill in some plot holes

Dom!reader x sub!vampire!fyodor

Warning: teasing, pet name (lil’ vamp), pegging (I use dick), a tiny bit of dacryphilia, biting, hierophilia (blood), vampirism, contract sex

Edit: I think I’m based towards fyodor, this ended up so long again-

You were a mercenary, one specified in hunting down those bloodsucking monsters known as vampires. Your name was infamous among the humans and vampire race, known for your amazing methods and efficient execution. Though you don’t care much about fame, the only good things about it is it lands you many missions. Which is why you’ve been summoned to the castle of a faraway country, one that resides close to a forbidden forest.

These mysterious forests are strictly forbidden due to vampires living within them. It’s always dark and quiet in those places, befitting their taste. So you might think it’s alright if people just don’t go into the woods. Sadly something like that can’t be prevented. There are many valuable resources beneath these trees, and everyone is dying to get their hands on those. The price for material from the forest is also really high, and sometimes that’s the only hope for the commoners.

Even though it’s been agreed upon that humans shall not disturb the vampires for they own safety, your client, the king, wanted to raid the forest. He had his eyes set on the wood planted around the mansion of the monster, it had a beautiful dark colour and was very sturdy. Yet out of fear for the power of the entity, he didn’t dare set a single foot into the woods. That’s when you come into the spotlight, he wanted you, the most famous vampire hunter, to take care of this. Once the vampire is gone, he won’t be breaking any rules, right?

This was a common case for you, everyone used you to do their dirty work. That’s the life of a mercenary, disposable and self-destructive.

You walked through the lavish halls of the king, meeting him in his throne hall. He didn’t spare you more then one glance, shouting loud enough for his voice to bounce off the walls, “y/n, vampire hunter. I have an honorary task for you. I want you to bring me the head of the demon Fyodor Dostoyevsky and for that you’ll be greatly rewarded.”

Despite it sounding grandiose and imposing you knew how to stand your ground, asking for the exact amount you’ll be rewarded and an advance payment. The king on the other hand refused to answer, saying he doesn’t want you to run off with the money. What a joke, your previous feats aren’t just for show after all. There was no helping it, that’s life. You swallowed your anger and left, rolling your eyes as you prepared to set off.

The home of that demon was grande, almost as huge as the castle, he sure loved luxury. You circled around the house to secure your escape route before heading inside, the door opened with a climatic creak. What a cliche, does vampires not know how to take care of their home? Without sparing it too much thought, you stepped inside and called out for that monster, wondering why the ruler knew his name. They must have a long history between them.

“Fyodor! Heyyy, come out, do me a favour and make this easy.” You yelled, and soon enough, a shadow emerged from behind you. Before you got the chance to turn around, he mumbled with grace and elegance, “Y/n, the vampire’s greatest enemy. The one who pulled out the fangs of Dracula with your bare hand, and forced him to drink the blood of his comrades.” A shiver ran down your spine at his voice, it was low and pretty, enough to stir something inside you.

“That’s an exaggeration, I never did such things.” You turned around and chuckled, staring into his purple eyes. Before you stood a black haired young man with a puffy shirt and fitted pants. He wore many silver accessories, tons of necklaces hung around his neck. His appearance was very eye-catching, pretty features and pale skin, sickly so. “…but I may have a record of flirting with the enemy.” After seeing how beautiful he was, you decided to indulge yourself, flirting with him.

He didn’t pay your words any attention, instead he continued with his speech, “Mortal children strived to be like you, while we use your stories to scare the kids.” You stopped, a sense of pride engulfing you from the inside. “My, I am quite famous after all.” Fyodor furrowed his brows, as if he’s agitated, then he relaxed his expression and said, “I knew you’d come for me one day. And, I’m dying to try out your blood.” After saying that, he licked his lips before covering his mouth with his hand.

You laughed, catching him off guard. The sound of your voice was annoying, he felt like you were mocking him. Then you teased, “dear, do you really think you can touch my blood?” That was clearly a provocation, you looked down on him. He clicked his tongue, glaring at you. The moment you blinked, he rushed over to you, planning on taking you out with one swoop attack. You dodged him with ease, commenting, “not bad, but is this all?” And he ignored your remarks once more.

Seeing how serious he was, you’ll have to stop the joking soon as well. To be honest you weren’t in the mood for fighting, which is why you suggested, “How about this, fyodor-” “I didn’t give you permission to use my name.” He snapped, showing his fangs. “…then, lil’ vamp it is.” You chuckled, noticing how that pet name annoyed him further. “How about a deal? I’ll spare your life and you can have as much of my blood as I’m able to give you.” His pointy ears perked, intrigued by this proposal. It sounded enticing, but there’s nothing for free in this world.

“And what do you get out of this?” Fyodor asked, keeping his distance. He wasn’t going to heed the rules of a deal anyway, especially when made with a human. “Allow me to be a bit crude, but I want you to sell your body to me.” The boy froze in place, eyes widened in shock and disbelief. Were you aware of the implications of your own words? Was this another one of your mockery, your way of insulting him? “What makes you think I’d agree?” He questioned you, staring at your face with his scarlet eyes, trying to read you.

“I’m simply proposing a deal, you can decline or agree, it’s up to you.” Somehow you managed to sound unbothered and cheery despite the situation. No matter how fyodor wanted to decline, he knew this was his chance. If you fought with him seriously, he would eventually lose. Now, with you giving him new opportunities, he had to take them and put it to good use. “I’ll accept this for now, so, show me how sincere you are.” The demon demanded, and you answered with, “my pleasure, please show me to your room.”

Who would have known a day like this would come, where he got shoved into his own room, pinned to his own bed and humiliated in front of a human. It didn’t take long until you got him bend over on all fours, face pressed into his soft pillows. Any of his attempts to overpower you were futile, because you were physically stronger than him. That allowed you to pretty much manhandle him, denying him access to your neck. Once you got him into this vulnerable position, you didn’t held yourself back, asking him one last time if your deal still stands. After he nodded, you went all in.

Now you were breathing heavily while slowly entering his hole. His rim was tight and didn’t allow you any entrance, but you stayed stubborn, gently pushing your way in. “You are so tight, lil’ vamp.” You muttered, occasionally glancing over at him to see how well his reaction is. “Nghhh…! S-slow down, it hurts!” Fyodor groaned, cheeks flushed red as he realized the situation he was in, and that he never shared such intimate moments with anyone before. “…if I go any slower I wouldn’t be moving anymore.” You tried to reason with him, leaning down to press your body against his.

“HnnGh… t-then pull out…” He snarled, glaring at you while he felt your skin against his back, pressing him down, reminding him of your presence. How did things turn out like this? Why was he participating in such vulgar acts with his greatest enemy…? “Do you want me to? Then you won’t get my blood as well.” You whispered into his ear, licking his earlobe and the earring he wore. “Ha-haahhhH…! No, d-don’t.” The boy gasped, and you weren’t sure what he meant. But he seems to be enjoying himself, so you continued.

His hands gripped the white sheets with all the remaining strength he had, his ass reddened as he struggled to take you whole. That poor guy’s entire body was shivering, shaking as he tried to get used to this pressing sensation inside him. He could feel you stretching him apart, rubbing against his squishy walls. You smiled as you observed his efforts, one hand clasped over his hand as you intertwining your fingers with his. He had sharp nails, you could even call them claws. So you were worried that he’d poke holes into his sheets.

Your other hand explored his body, trailing down his spine with your fingertips, brushing over his body as if you were caressing a flower. “Hmm..! Uh-uhhng..! It f-feels weird..” It tickled him, yet it wasn’t uncomfortable, at least he thinks it wasn’t. Next, you stroke his silky hair before grabbing his hip and mumbling tenderly, “you are doing good, don’t worry I plan on being nice for today.” What do you mean for today…?

Soon, your hips met with his, and you stopped moving until you were sure he was alright. “Good job.” You said, rubbing his blushing cheeks slightly. Then you held your wrist right in front of him, inviting him to bite you, giving him your approval. Without any once of hesitation, he sunk his teeth into your flesh, sucking viciously. He was feeling so weak from your actions, he needed that replenishment. Since he was distracted, you took that chance to start moving again, making sure to take your sweet time. Well, he looked like he’d break if you weren’t gentle with him. He had such a slim and frail physic after all. Just look at his waist, it’s so skinny you fear you could accidentally break him into two pieces.

Fyodor suck on your wrist, mind getting cloudy from the taste of your sweet blood. It tasted amazing, and it made him feel all foggy inside. As if he was getting drunk on it, addicted even. He made sure not to waste a single drop, lips pressed against your skin while he gulped down more and more of your vitality. Apparently he was so distracted he didn’t notice you pounding his cute ass, not until it was too late. You fucked him slowly but roughly, each time you’d thrust yourself as deep inside him as you could, feeling him clench around you so sweetly.

“HnMnh, nghh…” the vampire only whimpered meekly as he sipped your blood contently, feeling pleasure blossom everywhere inside him. You eventually quickened your pace, now rutting into him without any care in the world. It was instantly met with his mewling, a high pitched noise as he screamed in ecstasy. Fyodor couldn’t pull his thoughts together, tongue hanging out as some tears rolled down his face.

Then you pulled your wrist away from him, saying, “that’s enough for now. If you want more, you gotta work hard.” His eyes bore such a pitiful look as he begged you for more, face melting as he moaned around you, some of your blood sticking to his lips. “Ahhh… it felt so good, I-i don’t wanna stop..” he admit, hands shaking underneath you, his primal urges kicking in, infesting his desires and hunger.

“What is it that you want, fyodor?” The way you voiced his name made his knees go weak, tremble even. He panted heavily, trying to fill his lungs with air, to keep his composure. “I-I want more blood… I want your blood.” You smiled, seeing him so desperate fed into your own desires. And you felt like if you denied him any longer he was going to cry, considering his eyes were getting watery already. “Then come here, lil’ vamp.” You told him and wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him closer to you as you sat up, positioning him in your lap.

His first response was to whine as he arched his back forwards, legs turning into pudding as his hands shakily let go of the sheets, now clutching your thighs. “Ah-nGhh.. it’s so- so deep inside me.. it’s so foreign..?” Out of nowhere you turned him over, and he wanted to immediately bite your neck, but you covered his mouth with your palm. “Not yet.” As soon as he understood what you wanted, he wrapped his arms around your neck, bouncing up and down your dick like he was in heat. Your hand was still over his lips, so his moans all got muffled as they seeped through, “mHhnff, HnnGh, hmm…!!”

He rode you with fever and need. On one hand because he needed you and your blood on a carnal level, on the other hand due to him starting to enjoy getting fucked by you. After a while you took your hand away from him, now squeezing his waist with both hands, guiding his movements. Fyodor nuzzled against your neck, pleading with you, hoping you’d let him have some of that delicious red liquid again. “Y/n.. ah-huuHhn~ l-let me fed off you..? P-please..♡♥︎～?” You giggled to yourself, entertained and delighted, duty all pushed to the side as you said, “go on, take as much as you need.”

Needless of say, you two shared a long night together, and somehow, both of you ended up in endless love bites. Ops, what’s this? Oh no, his door is stuck! It must be because it’s so old~ oh no, seems you’ll have to stay at the mansion longer than expected… and his impending heat is coming up ♡

My friend send me this after I told them what I was writing haha

[bwabys-scenarios]

Vampire!Kurapika keeps you nearby at all times. His hand always find its way to your hip, pulling you ever closer.

You’re so warm, so soft and he just can’t get enough. All he wants to do is curl up in your arms and sleep with you forever…

He knows that isn’t possible, so he makes due with keeping you so close it’s almost suffocating. Being with Kurapika means understanding his severe separation anxiety.

To Kurapika, you are like the very air he breathes, and when you’re gone he feels like he’s choking.

In his long, lonely existence, you are the only thing that has truly made life worth living.

He keeps you pressed against the wall, his teeth sinking into your neck as he fucks into you like a beast. Usually Kurapika is so gentle, but he’s just desperate for you tonight.

“I love you… my darling, you’re everything to me…”

Just for a moment, he feels only bliss, so warm and soft and fuzzy… you make him feel like he’s floating on air.

And as the two of you come down from your respective highs, he can only softly lap at the bite mark he left, sending you an apologetic look.

“Sorry… are you alright?”

You smile, gently nuzzling against him.

“I am, as long as I’m with you.”

[nr1chaedickrider]

love me or leave me tonight

Does love survive hatred?

angst, angst and angst ; also smut!!! is this even fluff.. ; vampire!sana ; vampirehunter!reader ; violence and stuff ; blood and bloodplay ; sana is manipulative lwk?? ; bondage ; sana has a back tattoo ; degradation ; forbidden love ; friends to ???? ^_^ ; inspired by first kill ; mentions of murder ; voyerism ; happy (very very late) birthday @cry4mina (thiswas supposed to be your bday present), you were probs the person that motivated me the most for writing this so thank you, not proofread!

men dni.

It feels like your wrists are tied together, not being able to move, not at all.

The way she looks at you makes you shiver in fear, tears rolling down your cheeks.

"Please.." you beg her, in such a pathetic tone nobody would be able to make fun of you, instead they would feel bad for you.

Sana always described herself as being different than the others though.

If it is because of her fangs or just her behavior in general that makes her look like a monster, you don't know for sure.

-

You crush the empty beer can and drop it on the floor. Sana hands you a new one and you thank her with a brief nod.

You open it with a crack and take a sip, feeling the fizz and tasting the slightly bitter taste.

It's pretty quiet before you start talking.

"My family is causing stress again.

"Should I pretend to be surprised?" she asks with a light laugh, you laugh a little too.

"Is that why you have bruises and scars?" she adds, looking at the injuries on your face and neck.

Sana - the only person who knows your secret, that you were born into a family of vampire hunters.

"One of the strongest vampire families is said to be here in town," you answer.

Sana - the only daughter of the most famous vampire family.

She knows all your secrets - you know none of hers.

She nods, as if she understands what you are going through.

She lifts her hand and gently strokes the scar on your cheek.

You blush slightly at the close proximity of the two of you.

Just a little more pressure and it would start to bleed, Sana thinks to herself.

She pulls her hand away before she thinks any more about it, before her feelings take over.

Her feelings have always been stronger than her.

Her feelings control her, it has always been like this.

-

"I love you" the words glide easily over her tongue, a smile on her lips.

Even if it's just a whisper - it's a dream for you, as if nothing could happen, nothing could stop you.

Like teenagers in love (that's what you are, teenagers).

"Really?" you ask, in some way you're sure she means it, but you just want to hear it again.

She nods, "I love you so much" she repeats with the same smile.

You take her hand in yours, your thumb gently stroking the back of her hand.

She looks down at your hands, then up at you.

You look into her eyes and move closer.

A kiss.

Gentle, slow, romantic, simply full of emotion.

Full of love.

When your lips part, you both giggle a little, but then you continue kissing.

Further, further, and further.

When your lips (finally) part again, you are both completely out of breath. Your cheeks are slightly flushed.

You both sink into the mattress as you push Sana into her on her back.

She continues to giggle, almost unable to stop, just like you.

You lean over her and kiss her neck. The contact of your lips on her cold neck makes the hair on her arms and neck stand up, her fingers digging into the sheets as you suck on her pulse point.

"Honestly, I have no idea what exactly to do," you confess as you sit on top of her, your hand toys with the hem of her oversized shirt (or rather, your oversized shirt).

"Me neither" she replies with a laugh.

You smile like an idiot as she says this. "Now come here" she says and pulls you down to kiss you again.

You mumble a "may I?" against her lips and tug lightly on her shirt, she responds with a nod and lifts her arms over her head as you pull the shirt over her head and drop it on the floor next to you.

You kiss her soft, smooth skin and take off her sports bra. Your hands slowly massage her breasts, Sana moans slightly and her body presses against yours to feel you and your hands even more and even better.

You slowly kiss further down, over her ribs, her thin stomach with a slightly trained six-pack - down to the waistband of her shorts.

You look up to her and make eye contact.

"Please" she says under her breath, you nod in response, knowing what she wants from you.

You pull them off her, as well as her underwear (that already has a damp spot on it).

You stare at her pretty pussy, you can't help but giggle a little at the view infront of you.

You come closer, inhaling her sweet scent before diving in.

Sana twitches a little at your sudden action, her hands flying to your head in just a second and gripping your hair, leaving a delicious burn.

Your tongue licks her clit, drawing eights on it.

You hope that you're doing a good job, desperately trying to remember how the women in porn do it - how they pleasure the other and making her moan like crazy.

You stop overthinking when Sana lets out a louder moan though.

Your tongue finds her hole, entering and exiting her a little.

"Please...

need your fingers" she moans out.

You smile a little as you part your mouth from her core, now rubbing circles on it with your two fingers.

You kiss her again, your pointer finger dipping into her wetness, making her moan out loud, not being able to kiss you back normally.

Her hands grip the bedsheets, a few veins peeking out from her hand.

You stop kissing her, going down to her neck and leaving wet kisses on it, kissing over the few marks you've left and adding even more to it.

Your second finger enters her, making her let out a high pitched whimper.

Her hips meet your pace and start grinding on your fingers, searching desperately for the pleasure she needs.

"I'm so close... please-" she whimpers, you smirk against her skin and take one of her erected buds into your mouth.

A few thrusts, your thumb on her clit, and your tongue on her nipple send her over the edge as she comes with a loud whine.

You slowly pull your wet fingers out of her, licking them clean as you watch her breathe heavily.

"That was so... wow-" she breathes out.

"You're cute"

-

Love is not forever.

After you met Sana, you actually wanted to think that it was something for eternity.

It would never die out, you would never think of anything but love.

Love, love, love.

Maybe it is really made to last forever - only that after a while you'll love in a different way.

Desperate love.

Loving sadness.

Loving even though you don't really want to.

This love consumes you, makes you think of nothing else but that.

Every situation can remind you of love.

Your brother's death also reminds you of it.

His body lies in a field, in complete darkness.

His eyes open, his gaze full of emptiness.

"What... what happened?" you ask, a slight tremor in your voice.

Your father exhales before answering you.

But instead of telling you like a normal person, he kneels down next to your brother's head and turns his head to the side.

A scar on his neck.

Two holes.

Blood residue next to it, completely dried.

Your mother and sister hug each other, tears running down their cheeks.

"Was it the new vampire family?" you ask.

Stupid question.

"Y/n..

It was Sana," he replies.

What?

"Sana?"

He nods.

You laugh a little, full of frustration.

"It's not funny-... she would never-"

"You can never trust vampires." he says with a stern tone.

He's serious.

Sana, your best friend, your girlfriend for several months.

She killed your brother.

You look at your brother, then at your family.

Your legs move faster than you can think.

You run away, run in a direction you know only too well.

Sana's house.

You take the back entrance to her garden (which you already know well enough) and come across her sitting in a chair.

She looks at you in shock as you look at her.

"Y/n- what are you doing here?" she asks and stands up.

"Is it true?" you ask back, your voice a mixture of fear and anger.

She doesn't say anything at first, but then realizes that you mean exactly what she's been trying to forget since last night.

She nods slowly.

She doesn't deny it, she doesn't try to explain herself.

Whether it's even possible to explain yourself.

Your hand grips the handle of your pocketknife tightly, your hands trembling slightly.

"Y/n... I wanted to tell you... but my parents-"

"They forbid me to see you, but I went ahead anyway because I love you"

You listen to her, for some reason hoping she'll say something good - even though you know that nothing can make this situation any better.

"He was my first victim," she says after an awkward, tense silence.

Her first victim?

"They made me bite him... as punishment"

"I couldn't help it"

"You couldn't help it? What are you saying... Sana, I thought you loved me"

"Where is your common sense?" you ask her, your voice louder and full of despair.

You run towards her, your knife pointed at her as you try to hit her chest.

She dodges quickly, twisting your arm behind your back as you let out a small cry of pain and let the knife drop.

"Y/n..." she says with concern.

Her grip is as if she doesn't even want to do any of this, as if she's being forced by something.

"It's better if you leave," she adds.

She lets go of you (or rather, tosses you) as you fall on the ground, the wet grass soaking through your clothes as you feel the cold.

You look up at her, full of fear.

This is not the Sana you know.

It doesn't feel like you're looking at Sana Minatozaki.

At this moment, it feels like you're in front of an evil person.

Like in a nightmare.

You grab the knife on the floor next to you and stand up quickly, your eyes on her one last time before you run away.

She looks after you, sees your body getting smaller and smaller before you disappear behind a hill.

A tear runs down her cheek, and as she turns around she sees both her parents looking down at her through the second floor window.

Their expressions are cold and disappointed.

Just like always.

And you, you don't stop running.

You run on and on, without a destination, without any idea where you want to go.

Just away from here -

Away from Sana.

-

The music is loud as you walk into the club, your jeans are loose around your waist, your white t-shirt is slightly cropped so that your stomach can be seen a little.

You sit down at the bar and watch the other people dance.

The last time you were here was several years ago,

with Sana.

You were younger back then, still in school, no idea what you wanted to do in the future.

Now you're older, and you know what your goal in life is.

To kill Sana.

To get your revenge.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the bartender asking what you would like to drink, you order a beer and he gives you one and then moves on to other guests.

You drink a little and feel the fizz, tasting the slightly bitter taste of this variety.

The taste reminds you of the countless times you have drunk with Sana.

You look around a little before you see something that almost makes you drop the bottle on the floor.

Sana.

Sana pushing someone against the wall.

Short black hair, lots of tattoos -

She has no idea who exactly she's dealing with.

You leave your bottle at the bar and walk slowly towards them both.

Sana kisses her hard and aggressively, full of energy.

And you can guess why she has so much energy.

Before you can get any closer, Sana turns her head in your direction while turning the woman's head to the side so that she has perfect access to her neck.

Sana grins at you.

And suddenly her lips are stained dark red with blood.

She flashes her fangs at you, completely covered in blood as she slowly licks them clean.

And suddenly she's just gone.

In a millisecond she has bitten her victim, and in a millisecond she is gone without leaving a trace.

Your victim falls to the ground as you run to her to help her somehow.

But it's too late.

You look at her neck and see the same scar you saw on your brother.

While the crowd tries to take care of her, you disappear from the club.

A sigh leaves your lips.

-

"I'll help you," she says, her thumb stroking the back of your hand as she smiles at you.

You have an uncomfortable feeling in your stomach, you feel sick and you're not sure if you should do this at all.

Or if you want to involve Jihyo at all.

She's 10 years older than you - an old acquaintance from your family and a vampire hunter just like you.

She was also your first love.

Actually, it was just a little crush, maybe you mistook it for a close friendship, you were quite young.

The plan of the two of you was pretty simple - go to Sana's house and capture her if possible (you don't want to think about the possibility of killing her).

If your information is correct, her parents are no longer alive.

Rumor has it that she killed them herself.

To be honest, you wouldn't be surprised if it were true.

Jihyo and you make your way to her house, equipped with various weapons.

It is dark, 10 o'clock in the evening. The night is still and quiet.

If only you knew it would change quickly.

You enter the house through the garden, Jihyo has always been good at picking locks.

Your pistol in your hand, you look around carefully as Jihyo walks ahead of you.

She turns right, you look behind you for something, but then you hear something fall.

You turn around quickly and see that "something" is Jihyo.

All you can see is her legs sticking out from behind the wall. You run to her, kneel down on the floor next to her, but the moment you look up-

Sana hits you and you fall over.

-

"Where am I?" you mumble, your head aching as you open your eyes.

You see Jihyo lying on the ground, just a few meters away.

You run to her, or rather, you try to.

Something sharp cuts into your skin and you bite your lip.

You look down at your arms and see that you've been tied to the wall with barbed wire.

"Fuck-" you breathe out, trying not to feel the pain.

You only have your bra on, Sana has undressed you a little, probably so that you only feel more pain.

You try to move as little as possible and look anxiously at Jihyo, who, thankfully, is slowly waking up.

"Jihyo!" you say, she looks at you, then looks around.

This makes you look around.

You realize you're both in a rather large basement.

Jihyo is fully dressed, but her hands are tied behind her back.

Before you can warn her about the corpses you've noticed, the cellar door opens and Sana comes down.

"You're awake, how nice," she says with a smile.

"And Y/n? How do you like the barbed wire?" she asks.

"Fuck you" you just reply, Sana laughs but doesn't really pay attention to you, not like she has her eyes on Jihyo.

And part of you has an inkling of what's about to happen.

Sana sits down on a rather large chair, and with a small wave of her hand, Jihyo lands on her lap, her back against Sana's chest, her eyes locked on yours.

"I really haven't had such a pretty girl on my lap in a long time," Sana says, her hand slowly stroking Jihyo's arm.

You take a deep breath and try to calm yourself down somehow. The situation you, or rather Jihyo, are in can quickly become life-threatening.

"What do you want?" you ask, looking at her and she starts laughing again.

"Blood," she replies. Short, concise, without any emotion. The smile she had on her lips a few seconds ago has disappeared.

She is serious.

Jihyo is still looking at you, her eyes full of fear.

But her look of fear changes. And you don't know what to think except "what exactly is happening here."

Sana whispers something in her ear, and the fear in her eyes disappears.

Sana's hand moves on her body, and then she stops right on Jihyo's core.

Before you can do anything else, you realise what is happening.

And how it's to late to save Jihyo.

You feel like your eyes are fixiated on Sana and how Jihyo sits so obediently on her lap. You're not able to shift your gaze. It's like there is only them - and you're watching them like a movie. Like a perfomance that was made just for you - and you can't stop looking.

This was made for you, and the way Sana forces you to watch them.

Her hand goes past Jihyo's underwear, and suddenly Jihyo is moaning so softly for her. The look on her face just full of arousal.

She has been manipulated.

Something you learned early on - when training to be a vampire hunter.

There's nothing you can do, when you've been trapped under a vampire's spell. Except for one thing -

hope that you won't die.

In Jihyo's case right now, you're not sure what is going to happen in the end.

So you continue watching them, you watch Sana kissing Jihyo's neck, the intoxicating smell of her blood is problably already driving her crazy.

She continues fingering her, her movements speeding up.

She has no intention of giving pleasure to Jihyo - she just waits for the right moment to bite into her neck.

When Jihyo is moaning louder though, and her body twitches closer to Sana, she knows it's happening.

You know too.

"Jihyo!" you yell out, in hopes you're able to somehow get her out of this trance.

It was already to late.

Sana bites into her neck, begins to suck and moan at the fresh taste. 

Jihyo screams for help, and you can do nothing but watch as a tear flows down your cheek.

Her lifeless body drops to the ground as soon as Sana is done with her.

She licks her fangs with a smile, smirking at you like she did the night you first saw her again.

She comes closer, taking your jaw into her hand. 

"You can't replace me that easily." she whispers seductively.

What?

"What do you mean?" you ask, but she just shakes her head.

"I'll see you soon" she replies, and your eyes fall shut.

-

When you wake up again, you are lying in your bathtub.

You try to move, but notice the pain in your arms from the barbed wire.

You lean your head back and take a deep breath.

To summarize, you watched Sana finger Jihyo and then bite and kill her. Afterwards she tells you that you can't replace her, and now you're here.

Sana knows where you live.

Jihyo is dead.

To say you're overwhelmed is an understatement.

But you know exactly what you have to do, whether it's for you or for Jihyo.

Find Sana.

As you slowly step out of the bathtub, a thought occurs to you.

The evening gala of big companies. If anyone is going to be there, it's Sana.

-

You take another look at yourself in the mirror.

Your black suit fits a little loosely, but hides your scars well.

You get into your car and drive to her house.

How convenient that everything happens in her house.

When you get there, you look around.

There are already a lot of people there and as you walk in, you see various bosses probably talking about certain deals and wanting to do business.

A waiter comes up to you and offers you a glass of red wine, which you gratefully accept.

The taste is bitter, dry, but somehow it reminds you of blood.

How ironic, you think to yourself.

You walk around, having conversations here and there.

"I thought this event was for people with companies," someone says, and as you turn around, you see her.

It's Sana.

Her grin is like a shiver running down your spine.

"I'm not here to conduct business," you reply, drinking the rest of your wine.

Your lips are slightly red and you smile at her.

Your grip on the glass tightens, and before Sana can do anything, it shatters in your hand.

A waiter quickly comes to help you and removes the shards from the floor, you thank her but say you can take care of it yourself.

Drip, drip, drip.

The blood dripping from your hand drives Sana crazy.

"Oops," you say, but before you can turn around and walk away, she grabs your wrist and pulls you along.

Only now do you notice that she has a tattoo.

A pretty big one.

Your eyes are focused on her back, and the kind of detail the tattoo has.

It's as if it reflects her nature.

One side is sunny. You could even describe it as quite cheerful. If you just look at that side, you're just impressed with the work that's been done. You can see the colors and how they flow together. Everything fits well together.

The other side, however, is the complete opposite.

It's dark, makes you nervous. You get an unpleasant feeling when you look at it. The main colors are black and red. It's like a horrible painting, something you would see in a museum and think to yourself "what was the artist thinking?". The longer you look at it, the more scared you get.

But you can't think about her tattoo for long as you are pushed onto a bed.

Sana sits on top of you and the memories of your first time come flooding back.

The only difference is that Sana was tender and sweet, not cruel like now.

Your bleeding hand is still in hers, and maybe you could even see the water pooling in her mouth.

You know that you should be afraid, or that you should hit her, she killed Jihyo, your brother, and she almost killed you.

But in this moment you feel nothing but the will to feel her everywhere.

And she didn't even manipulate or influence you in any way.

You look at her, and then -

you press your hand more towards her.

And she understands what you want from her.

The smirk on her face appears again and pulls you closer.

She closes her eyes and starts to lick the blood of your hand.

For her, this is the best meal she could ever have. To be able to taste your blood was always a dream of hers.

And so she continues doing that, moaning a little when her tongue touches the red liquid coming from your veins.

She does it like she was starving for her life. Like she lived her life for exactly this moment.

She parts from your hand, leaning her head back slowly as if she would be on a high.

When she looks at you again, her pupils are dilated and the look on her face is full of arousal.

You can't blame her, yours is too.

She fumbles with the buttons of your jacket, you push her hands away and do it yourself, just to end up almost ripping it off your body and throwing it on the floor.

She looks at your arms, the way there are marks everywhere because of her.

"Fuck" she curses under her breath, pulling down the zipper of your pants and pulling (or rather - ripping them) off your body.

A groan escapes your mouth when she touches you, squeezes parts of your body that got your mouth hanging open.

A low "need you" leaves your mouth as Sana starts kissing you everywhere, leaving marks all over your body (surprisingly she's not biting you).

She comes closer to your core, and your need to feel her tongue on you is growing stronger and stronger. Your mind is clouded with the thought of her, it feels like you tried to hate her the whole time while you just need her to fuck you.

At this point, you don't even know if you're still in control of your body or if it's Sana.

No matter what, you don't care.

And when continues eating you out, all messy and again, like she was starving, you grip her hair and push her even closer.

Your thighs just pull her closer, trying to feel her even deeper.

The moans that leave your mouth can problably be heard from outside, but you or Sana both couldn't care less.

The way she licks up ever drop of your juices in hunger, her nails digging into your thighs, scratching you and leaving little marks, droplets of blood escape your veins.

You cum into her mouth with a loud moan, your head leaning back and your eyes roll back.

Sana always thought you were beautiful, but right now, in this moment - you definetly are the prettiest.

She doesn't give you any time to calm down as she rises and shoves two of her fingers inside of you, making you grip the bedsheets in surprise.

Your moans loud and messy, your skin covered in sweat, the blood on your thighs that's oozing out of the cuts drives Sana even crazier.

She continues pumping her fingers inside of you, and she leans forward, dragging her tongue over the cuts.

A moan escapes her mouth, and then, she leans closer to you and kisses you, with her lips stained with the dark red liquid.

You kiss her back, but your mouth hangs open when she adds another finger, filling you up.

You two don't even need to talk, the only way you two communicate is through her messy and needy touches - and your desperate moans.

All desperate - for her.

She never stops moving her fingers.

In, out. In, out.

Here faster, there slower.

You already lost every sense of time, like you're lost in the moment.

Your body twitches in sensitivity. Like it's fragile and Sana is overusing it.

You clearly are overstimulated, but Sana just can't stop herself.

Looking at her, seeing how her eyes are fixiated on your naked body, you ask yourself if she is even in control of her own body - or if something, someone else took control.

She doesn't leave you enough time to overthink, when your eyes are met with a black silk cloth.

The last thing you saw.

-

You stare at her grave and only now do you realize how stupid you are.

The stone you sit on is cold. Your eyes focus only on her name.

'Park Jihyo'

A sigh leaves your lips.

Are you disappointing her? Is she looking at you and thinking, "What the hell are you doing?"

Does she think you should be ashamed?

For having sex with Sana,

But even worse -

That you somehow still love Sana.

She killed your brother, she killed Jihyo - so many innocent people.

And despite everything, you can't seem to get rid of your feelings for her.

Your thoughts are always about her, your dreams are all about Sana.

You don't know which feeling is stronger - the hatred for her, for all the things she has done.

Or the love - the memories you can't let go.

Her soft lips on yours, the way her arms held you while you cried.

It makes you break down completly.

All those years you were away, it was all about Sana.

You wanted to get stronger, to beat her, to kill her.

But now it seems that you just want to be with her.

-

The night is dark and cold, everything reminds you of the night you found your brother dead.

The same place, the same time, the same loneliness you felt in your heart.

Instead of running to Sana to confront her, she came to you.

Instead of a calm conversation, you have a knife in your hand.

Her gaze is cold, you're not sure if you can read any emotion in her face.

Empty.

That would be the word you would use to describe her right now.

"What do you want?" she calls into the night, as if she doesn't know where you are.

As if you were looking for her, she speaks as if she had no plans.

"You came here," you answer, trying not to show any of your feelings.

"You confuse me," you say.

She looks at you questioningly.

"I confuse you?" she repeats.

You nod.

"Why are you doing all this?" you ask, but when she tries to answer, you keep talking.

"You come with me... you listen to me when I talk about how the pressure from my parents is getting too much... you don't tell me that you're a vampire." You take a breath and feel the tears in your eyes. You feel this uncomfortable feeling like you're going to throw up. You feel dizzy.

You are overwhelmed.

"You kill my brother," you begin to say, "You kill him, your first victim, because your parents want to punish you?" you laugh a little. Saying it sounds so unbelievable. So grotesque.

"Then, when I come back here after years, I meet you in a bar and you kill someone."

"You kill Jihyo and make me watch."

"And then?-

You have sex with me as if you would love me."

Tears are streaming down your cheeks, you can't stop laughing because this is all so frustrating to you.

You open your mouth to say something else, but then you are pushed to your knees.

Without Sana even touching you.

It feels like your wrists are tied together, not being able to move, not at all.

The way she looks at you makes you shiver in fear, tears rolling down your cheeks.

Are you doing too much or are you genueinly scared of her?

"Please.." you beg her, in such a pathetic tone nobody would be able to make fun of you, instead they would feel bad for you.

Sana always described herself as being different than the others though.

If it is because of her fangs or just her behavior in general that makes her look like a monster, you don't know for sure.

"Can you just stop talking?" she asks you.

Her expression looks different than how it looked like earlier, instead of the emptiness in her face, it looks like she's letting her emotions take over.

You don't know if this should make you even more scared.

But a part of you, a little part,

thinks, or rather, hopes, that she will behave like a decent human.

That she will behave like the girl you loved.

Or still love.

"I did it all for love." she answers.

Quick, short, but instead of that cold tone in her voice, she sounds...

sad?

You look up to her, unable to speak.

"I love you"

She loves you?

Sana? 

Loves you?

"I'll never stop feeling the guilt for what I did to your brother"

"But i can't lie to you and say that i regret doing what I did to Jihyo"

"Because all I ever wanted-

was you" 

She breaths out, like she just confessed the worst thing in the world.

"I always looked for you, when you left town"

"I searched for you, because I wanted to be with you"

"Despite you hating me"

She lets out a sigh.

"I did what I had to do for you to notice me" she stops talking.

She gets down on her knee, right infront of you to match your height.

Her thumb caresses your cheek, before moving your face to the side to expose your neck to her.

The strong of smell of your blood hits her nose like chemicals.

The intense smell that drives her crazy.

You shiver in fear, not knowing what is going to happen.

She stares at your neck, and the way your veins are so visible, like they're calling for her.

Everything she ever dreamed of, was to taste your blood.

But she doesn't want to bite you because of that.

She opens her mouth, flashing her fangs.

You try to somehow escape her spell, so that you can save yourself, but it isn't possible.

She sinks her fangs deep into your skin, you let out a scream when you feel her sucking your blood out of you.

You're finally able to move and try to grab her arm to somehow get her to stop.

"I don't want to die" you whisper, your voice full of weakness.

Until you realise -

Sana isn't planning on killing you.

But to make you a vampire.

[jup1ter33]

"Silence"

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆⚰︎⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧

ᯓ ⁺₊ ♱ .ᐟ || Where the dhampir finds himself yearning for something more with you, navigating his complicated feelings and doing so in a rather quiet way. <3 gn!Reader, mostly fluff, yearning, very mild angst, undetermined relationship,

╰┈➤ ❝ 1.5 wc ! ❞

The leaves glimmer with rainwater and moonlight, making the foliage appear like tiny fae had scattered fairy dust around. A bright waxing moon rests high in the sky, watching over sleeping creatures in a motherly fashion. It was silent, aside from the shuffling behind you. The dhampir shuts the carved wooden door behind him, taking faint steps towards where you're seated. He need not say a word, for he knows you'll recognize him through his rustling alone. As if mimicking you, he seats himself next to you on the damp step, bodies juxtaposed against each other. 

“Did you come outside to enjoy the scenery, D?” Your voice broke the silence, whispered and soft like a petal. His gaze did not leave the rain-covered lawn, blinking as he exasperated a faint sigh, only noticeable through the expanding of his chest.  “I came to see you.” His voice contrasted against yours, yet, it still held the softness he always carries. The few words he spoke held significant weight in your heart, knowing the dhampir's tendencies are solitude and tough walls covering his underlying vulnerability. “Why so?” Finally, he lowered his gaze onto you, watching how your skin appeared to have a cool tint from the faint twilight. He stares for a moment, thin lips sealed shut as his pupil flicks over your face, taking in the features now accentuated by the scenery. There was hesitation, you could see by the way his lips parted before immediately closing again, turning away from you. After a moment of internal contemplation, he decided it was best not to speak: per usual.

This didn't hurt you, as you knew D was not fond of using his voice for much of anything. Instead of trying to bait him into giving you an answer, like you used to, you opted for silence as well, gaze casting down to your hands where you adjust the cuffs of your attire. While you were distracted with yourself, he stole another glance at you, applying all your features to his memory to ensure he’d never forget your beauty, even when he was to outlive you. 

Before anything else could progress, you heard a small but rather obnoxious voice start to taunt the man next to you. “Really D? C’mon, why don't yo—” D’s brows furrow together as he squeezed his left hand into a fist, effectively stopping the parasite from causing him any more embarrassment. Your laughter is what brings him out of his state of annoyance, the sound much more delightful than Left-Hands. He turns his head to face you now, featuring softening into a pleased look. He’s glad you find it humorous rather than bothersome. 

“Left-Hand certainly likes to talk more than you do.” Your laughter fizzles out, a smile gracing your features now. D could feel the way his heart hammered in his ribcage, fearful you be able to see the sapphire-colored pendant throbbing against his chest from the intensity of his emotion. He knew what he was feeling, yet it felt so terribly wrong to do so. A human and a dhampir. He contemplated if this was as bad a vampire and a human many times, weighing the differences to try to perhaps justify himself. However, his brain could not come to a reasonable conclusion, as his heart had seemingly taken over. He felt incredibly drawn to you. Your presence, your beauty, your talent, your rarity— something about you was irresistible to him. Yet, he was able to conclude that these feelings were not from the vampiric side of him, but the human. He did not chase after you with the intent to feed or with lust, it was far different. This was the type of love humans felt. 

“I suppose he does,” D remarked, lips threatening to tilt up into a smile. The urge to reach out and caress your cheek took over him, imagining the softness of your skin, along with with warmth beneath his cold hand. “I apologize.” The words came suddenly, causing you to let out a puff of air, chuckling while you rested your face in your palm. “There's no need to apologize for that, he can be funny sometimes.” D’s brows lower, eyes thinning as he lowers his head a bit. He felt guilt creep up into his throat. He shouldn't let your palace of a body be tainted with his beastly nature, or so he thought. “No,” He interrupts you. His silence after speaking left you to decode his words, sifting through the phrases as you gazed at him with an attentive expression. 

As you realize this, you let out a soft sigh. “Oh, but there’s no reason to apologize for not talking.” His gaze drops to you, observing the way you speak so softly as if you were trying to lull him to sleep with a gentle lullaby. He wets his lips. “I don’t mind, D.” The stoic expression remains on his face, with the gentle breeze fluttering his hair being the only indication that he hasn’t turned into a statue. Once again, he remains silent.

Observing the steady drips of rainwater off of a cupped leaf, it falls quiet once more. This leaves the poor dhampir back with these raging thoughts, his heart aching to have something more with you, yet according to his morals, this is the exact opposite of something he should be doing. He is to prevent the spread of vampirism, to put a stop to the “disgusting” creatures. However, you didn't hold these same views as D. Always speaking about how you think the nature of vampires is something beautiful and romantic even, not disgusting. But with your opposing views on the topic, you would not try to stop his bounty hunting, as it is what he does. 

During the moment of peace, he recalls the time you had expressed interest in his fangs. He didn't understand why you would be so interested in something that alienates him from you, shouldn’t that be frightening for you? He allowed you to gawk and pry into his mouth, looking at the shape of his fangs and mumbling out questions akin to “Have you ever bitten someone?” As usual, he would not answer and let you continue. However, something about that was endearing to him. You simply were not scared of him. There was no fear in your heart for the daunting and rather tall dhampir, only genuine emotions that bordered on something more than friends. His introverted nature makes it hard for him to make sense of his feelings. He doesn't have many friends, or companions even. Before you started tagging along he was alone, with only his steed and Left hand. Coming to the conclusion he did was certainly a great achievement for him. 

He found himself yearning to be by your side, an ache in his chest when he thinks of you. Although he was more than capable by himself and had no problem being alone, his thoughts periodically drifted to what his life could be like with you. What would it be like waking up next to you? Would Left hand bother you too much? But the main question was always how do you feel that he is not human, but dhampir? Maybe this is how Charlotte and Meier felt. No— he mustn't think like that. 

His chest expands again as he sighs, the breath drawn from his lips as his deep umber hair falls over his shoulder, a little curl tickling his face. Hesitantly, his hand lifts off his lap, ever so gently placing on the back of your skull. You didn't flinch, nor act surprised, it was as if this was completely natural for you both. The cold, gloved hand tenderly slid down to the base of your neck, cradling your head with his large hand. Your gaze turned to him, lingering on the drip of the raindrops before meeting his dark eyes. His lashes were visible, his sclera pure and contrasting against the rich color of his iris. Coaxing you closer with his hand, his broad body leaned in carefully, his scent wafting over you at the proximity. He wasn't thinking clearly, it felt like Left hand had spread to his entire body. There was a slight pause before he closed the space, his lips resting against the crown of your head with a tender and light touch. You stayed perfectly still, relishing in the moment of his scarce affections. Eyes fluttering shut, he stayed there for a moment longer than he should've. This small, yet golden act of affection had you smiling under him, wanting to reciprocate your fondness. 

“D.”

His lashes fluttered open, just enough to meet your eyes while his hand rested at the base of your neck. You felt warmth in your face against the misty chill of the night, and D noticed the softness in your gaze. Tenderly, your warm hand reached up to cup his cheek, the coolness of his skin grounding you amidst the heat you felt. “Aren't you sweet?” Your teasing words made him shut his eyes, leaning his face into your hand. You gently swiped a curl away from his cheek, allowing your palm to rest flat against the plane of his face.

“I try.”

______________________________________________________________

⊹˚˙♱˙˚⊹

ty for reading ! <3

[lilacxquartz]

your hunger is mine (only mine);

vampire!hunter suguru geto x vampire f!reader

plot: tasked with killing you, vampire hunter suguru is driven mad with infatuation instead — themes: vampire au, slight plot, blood feeding, possessive behaviour, yandere, smut, p i v — w.c: 4k+ • masterlist • on ao3

For Suguru Geto, every day was the same.

He would wake up, hunt, eat, then sleep.

This was simply just the life he knew; from the moment the first light filtered in, he’d rise to sharpen his blades, dip the silver into holy water, and rehearse his prayers to pardon the dead. Suguru was what was expected of him, a man driven by a sense of duty that he felt he owed to the world—operating as though on clockwork—closing his eyes only when the cycle finished.

Only to repeat it all again.

For him, this was normal. Just like every other hunter that walked the world, he too, led a lonely life, married instead to the prospect of chasing whatever it was that lurked in the shadows, all so that those living in the settlements could have a semblance of peace. He’d push on, simply because he had to.

Though, then something changed. He woke up just like usual, he hunted, and that much stayed the same. But he didn’t eat, and he certainly couldn’t sleep—not when he was so captivated by what he had set out to destroy.

(You.)

~~~

The mission in itself was a simple enough affair; it was yet another tired night, guided by the cold glow of the moon. Missions often led him to blighted manors, which were once thriving residences, that now smelled like death itself. After a while of storming in and clearing such places though, they all started to blur and even look the same. This home wasn’t anything special.

Swiftly, methodically, Suguru purged the interior of a once noble family and its workers who scurried away like fleeting rats upon entry. Typically, vampires would rest in groups, huddled in a small room for both security, but also if they were simply dormant. Everything was going as planned, but then, he heard something deep into the heart of the house that made him pause.

A woman crying. Softly. Devastatingly.

As a result, he couldn’t help but investigate further, even while knowing that it could all be a trap. Sometimes, variations, as they were called, could make their way into a regular nest. If this was as he suspected, then he would have to turn in his base mission as it was, but something about those deeply mesmerising wails prevented him from turning around and leaving—despite every fiber of his being telling him otherwise—to investigate instead.

Slowly, carefully, Suguru tentatively extended his hand and pushed a dusty old door inside, his eyes falling over a pile of broken mirrors, one of which was held up by you, crying in the corner. Streaks of claw marks that peeled against the rotten walls marked up the area, leaving an unsavoury taste in his mouth. All of his senses told him that he stumbled upon something outside of his pay grade here, and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to leave. This, otherwise, was different, after all. You didn’t run when confronted, and much like every other variation that he had come across in his career, you didn’t lunge for his throat either.

Perhaps it was a bad idea then, but Suguru took upon the decision to approach you. His reflexes were fast, so he didn’t quite concern himself with you potentially catching him off guard, and as you turned, he once again hesitated. Your face just looked so… human? So fevered with peril and genuine anguish, as if ravaged by a sickness rather than a lapse of fading humanity.

For the first time in years, he felt something that he hadn’t felt for a while for these creatures. What was it again? Pity? Empathy? Whatever it was, it had been a feeling lost to him for a while, sending him back to the days of his first hunt, when he was torn between what made someone human and what didn’t.

All of the signs pointed to you being one of those things, so with that struggle in mind, he tried to push past his initial thoughts and try at least to finish the job. Suguru, as if locked in a trance, reached for his blades to strike you down, but then you did something that he hadn’t seen in all of his years on the job that made him freeze—that made his eyes grow wide—that made the blade clang onto the floor.

You… spoke.

Your voice, so human, so soft, whimpered out a stammered line, laced with genuine fear, “H-help me.”

Suguru gulped, allowing his eyes to drift to you.

In all of his years, he had never seen something like this. To him at least, these creatures—these things—these monsters, were anything but human, and yet, here you were; capable of communication. Initially, he tried to justify his reaction as a fear response, his hand desperately searching the floor for his fallen weapon, ready to banish you for good, but then you repeated yourself.

“Help.”

“Help me.”

“Don’t do this.”

For some reason, this was what it took to break him. Being a hunter was a lonely job; he had no idea if this was similar to humans technically, but he had also been isolated since the day of his training. Hunters could not operate in groups, let alone pairings. These abominations, also, would never go as far as to show fear, to beg for their lives, so he had potentially stumbled upon something new here that would be a waste if killed—at least in his mind.

His voice was tight as he tried to navigate this problem, grunting out a curt, “How?” when he finally succumbed to a reply. His eyes were narrowed, portraying an unreadable glare to conceal what he was truly thinking. If you were capable of speech, after all, then who was to say that you wouldn’t be capable of understanding too?

You tried to answer, letting the handheld mirror shatter on the ground like the rest. You turned to him, with your eyes wide and glassy, strained with pain and perhaps, also, a hint of hysteria. “I-I had recently been turned,” you falsely revealed, shooting out a clawed hand to clasp over his clothed arm, “I… I think I have to feed, but I really don’t want to…”

That wasn’t the whole truth for you, and you knew it. You had been here for more time than you knew, it’s just that you were still in touch with your old self. You could, technically, settle just like all of the others similar to you in the settlements, but there was something deeper that you craved. Your hunger was almost parasitic, and if luck would have it, you led your potential host right into your trap.

Suguru—the hunter before you—continued to regard you warily all the same, as though studying you to determine just what sort of personal threat it was that he was dealing with. He took note of how twitchy you were, betraying erratic undertones to your otherwise deceptively calm (for a vampire) demeanour. Something about you wasn’t entirely right and you were hiding something. You could have been someone recently turned, but you also could have been one of those new-age variations, that were even more difficult to detect.

Those types of things were always changing, after all, that’s something you both knew without needing to communicate it. The older, and even middle generations of the variations were capable of at least some kind of intelligence, which was what led to vampires huddling into groups rather than individually roaming. Perhaps the latest strain had adapted to become more human, evolving to potentially lure in hunters like himself into manipulated sympathy to spare him.

If that was it—he understood—every creature that occupied this cursed earth, for better or for worse, was just trying to survive. He couldn’t fault you for that, but also, at the same time, he could. Vampires and humans couldn’t coexist, at least, that’s what had been told for as long as he knew.

Still, despite being a hunter, he was still human; much against his better judgment, curiosity won out.

“How recently ago were you turned?” he asked, chancing a theory.

Predictably, your face went blank. You didn’t know the answer. It couldn’t have been that recent.

Suguru’s chest tightened as a result, a wave of unease spreading through his body. You were a variation that was capable of not only communication and understanding but playing a particular role that didn’t result in immediate violence. As a result, his mind briefly flashed over the possibility of turning you in for enough gold to last a lifetime, but for some reason, the thought didn’t linger. His violet gaze locked onto yours again, attempting to gauge something in particular from you. For a vampire to turn someone, there had to be an incubation period; variations happened from hastily turned occurrences, since for the last century or so, bite attacks happened more out of desperation than to feed.

Humans, as far as he understood, were simply just a delicacy—vampires were indeed still a threat, but, they didn’t exclusively target them. Just like how humans hunted to feast upon wild game or kept livestock, it wasn’t that unheard of for a hunter to report something similar back.

Therefore, you couldn’t have been starved—surely not—especially when the forest was so abundant with animals that passed through the trees.

His mind went back to the potential coin he could cash in, just for a brief moment, though. Suguru in theory, could cash you in and finally live within the settlements in peace. He could finally find someone special and adopt a peaceful life, but something at the same time begged for him to reconsider. Not only were you a pretty thing, but you were capable of holding back. You had an ethereal sort of look that was absent in humans, which would likely catch the eye of a brothel that would try and pedal your worth for as long as they could. Such instances had occurred in the past, too, with enough restraints in place.

Another possibility was that a research institution could try and get their hands on you, belonging to one of those laboratories that loomed in the dead center of the settlements. This too, would be a waste, because they would likely try and dissect you, subjecting your cadaver to autospies that wouldn’t necessarily mean anything until they’ve had at least a dozen few like you.

Suguru sighed.

What a predicament.

It wasn’t something that he could particularly control, but he wanted to be selfish with this. He wanted to study you for himself, as a hunter, his base job be damned. If you were truly self-aware enough, then he could potentially utilise this to favour his benefit. Vampires, after all, could read their own signatures, no matter where they were, whereas hunters had to go off based on intuition.

Calmly, Suguru drew up the sleeve of his shirt, unbuttoning the cuff so that he could offer you better reach, presenting you with a choice.

“How much would you need?” he asked, unable to quite believe that this was something he was truly considering.

“Not too much,” you murmured out, your response immediate, “just… just enough to take the edge off.”

Suguru nodded. “And, will I turn if I let you feed?”

You shook your head. “No, no… if I can avoid the veins, then you should be fine. It’s if the venom enters the bloodstream, that you will turn.”

(Wait. Venom? That was new information.)

Suguru’s eyes drifted down to meet with your lips, observing the pale blue tint to their complexion. You were as starved as you claimed, but you were also holding back. For what? He had given you plenty of opportunities to catch him at a vulnerable position, so you could have indeed lunged and doomed him at any given moment, but you didn’t. You also seemed to be aware of how turning worked, and what was needed to be done. All of this shared hesitation led him to believe that this could potentially result in a mutually beneficial outcome.

Just as you were about to take his offer, too, you held back, suddenly blurting out a panicked spiel of words, your fists tightened and tears streamed down your cheeks, your voice spiked with anguish and terror, “I-I hate what I am, you know,” you breathlessly confessed, “I hate myself—what I am—but I can’t just… let go of my life. I was like you before. Normal. But, you understand, don’t you? I can’t just stop living – not when it’s all I have left.”

Suguru sighed as he listened to your tortured words. Realistically, he knew that he was potentially giving into something that he shouldn’t, especially given his profession. He knew that he should have killed you to be done with it, earning his keep from your dragged-out corpse left to evaporate in the sun, or at best, left you alone to be dealt with at the hands of another hunter.

But he stayed.

So, whatever happened next, was on him.

“I’m going to help you,” he assured, steeling himself knowing that this was going to hurt, “but only because I’m curious, not because I care about you. Now, you can do this in two ways. You can take what I give you and listen to me, or you can flee and pray that the next hunter you come across, is even half as kind as me.”

He waited around for your response, but you didn’t respond with anything immediate. Your eyes were locked onto the contours of his inviting flesh, drawing your lips closer to his offering. Suguru’s breath hitched, expecting you to lunge, but you were excruciatingly slow. In a way, he supposed that the display was sensual, which made sense, knowing that vampires were supposed to be alluring to reel in the trust of their food. For a moment, he considered that he was a victim of such a thing; tricked into being fed upon by a new variation, who played into being more human than they truly were—

—Suguru hissed in pain.

The bite finally connected.

A sharp, pulsating shock traveled through his system, focusing right on his arm. He grunted as he tried to breathe away the pain, seething through his teeth as he tanked the sensation. Suguru’s jaw clenched as you sank your fangs into his aching skin; turning his head away before whipping it back to focus on you. A new feeling radiated just seconds after, letting him fall slack and relax against the wall. Just as quickly as the pain rose—pleasure did too, erasing all of the hurt—replacing it with something warmer.

Without even thinking about it, he allowed his free hand to drift and wrap around your scalp next, aiming to secure you into place while you fed. On occasion, you would blink up and catch his gaze, almost as if to confirm that his focus was planted directly on you. He paused at the sight, feeling something else within him stir, perhaps desire. His blood was being actively stolen, so through the dizzying rush of you feeding upon his very life essence, he couldn’t quite tell where the rest of his blood was rushing.

One thing was abundantly clear though.

He liked this.

Suguru released any tension that he ever had, leaning even further back as he led you to feed. Your soft lips felt like silk against his skin, feeding from him in teasingly slow gulps. For a moment, he lost himself in the blissful allure, understanding that there was no such human within the settlements that he could ever find to replicate the surreal reality of what he was experiencing right now. It was as if you had unlocked an addiction for him, leading him down a darker path when he should have been following the light—awakening something possessive within him—doomed to chase the newfound drug he sampled.

A thought crossed his mind, though.

You needed him to live, didn’t you?

If you were starved before, then he was your lifeline; your source of food—

—It was as swiftly over as it began, though, leading him to choke out a pained grunt as you pulled away.

You kept your promise, not bleeding him dry, not turning him—but in the heat of the moment—he wished for you to not stop. Suguru bit back a scoff, realising that had you potentially not kept true to your word, then he might have let you empty him for all that he was worth.

Sanguine red gloss coated your lips, dripping crimson down your chin. You stared at him with the very same lingering hunger he now desperately craved, but held back on advancing further. You were being just as careful as he was, getting him dependent to being around you, just as you felt around him. You tilted your head as you observed him, taking note of how his once murderous eyes melted into something betraying vulnerability instead, as if a chasm had been opened in his core, forming a void deep within.

You were sated, but he was not.

You studied him, indeed, as he forced himself to relax his hand and let go of your scalp, plucking his arm away. His body tensed as it came down from its painful high, a flush of rouge spreading across his cheeks as he tried to sit upright to conceal his arousal. His legs trembled, and his breath shuddered; the venom didn’t have to be exchanged, for your plan worked despite it, you secured a hunter again to protect your worth.

Suguru’s mind spiraled in the meantime, finding this situation abundantly frustrating. The hunt had changed, but for some reason, he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. Though he couldn’t help but feel that he was tricked somehow, fearing that now you had fed yourself, you might attempt to flee. He was damned if he was going to let you go, though, feeling the darker feeling return. The thought of you feeding upon someone else was upsetting, and he couldn’t for whatever reason, let you do that.

He drove himself mad for the rest of the night, unable to sleep. Such a longing need to be your only food source persisted to ravage his mind as you both recovered. Suguru pulled you in closer, tightening his arms around you. He looked down at you with half-lidded eyes, overcome with a rising hunger that was uglier than your own; where you lusted for mere sustenance, Suguru craved you on your own.

And as the morning finally arrived, Suguru’s eyes snapped open just as he felt himself doze off, revealing you attempting to sneak away. He whipped out his arms, wrapping his fingers tight around your wrists before you could truly flee. His reflexes were uncannily sharp, honed by years of hunting your very own kind. Suguru held onto you like a man crazed, pulling you flush against his chest, forcing his limbs to entangle with his own.

“No,” he simply stated, his breath running hot against your ear, “you will stay.”

Your lips parted as you thought of what to reply; in all of your years of manipulating hunters, they had never once been so possessive. For once, you felt as though you were as equally in danger as he must have felt when he first laid eyes upon you. You tried to relax regardless, trying to thaw your rigid state into the heat of his warm body, but the lingering unease remained all the same.

“You’re going to need only me from now on,” Suguru emphasised, “only me—just me.”

You tried to speak with him, only to be cut off, “I—”

“—you’ll let me sate your hunger, won’t you?” he asked, tracing his fingertips along your icy skin, “you won’t take your fill from anyone else.”

You fed him a look as a result, attempting to secure a promise within his crazed awakening. You were telling the truth, at least partially from before. No vampire enjoyed their life, so who were you to deny, that you perhaps wanted someone alive to make you feel if not, equally the same? To be treasured as a life, to be wanted, lusted for, just as one would with a living, breathing thing.

“I’ll carry on your burden,” he continued to promise, his voice a tone softer now, “you will not bear it alone.”

Suguru meant every bit of vowed promise that left his tongue and thoughts, too, his mind swirling with infatuation winning over logic, such a decision that would soon cling to his very state of being. As the nights came and went, you would on every other occasion ask to feed and Suguru would let you, the intense desire to let another sort of hunger claim him, claim you growing stronger with each passing hour.

He sat back all the same, yet this time, his mind was in a frenzied, almost feral state. He savoured the sensation of your fangs nestled in his flesh, of your lips brushing against him. He would cradle you, reeling you in tight against the core of his body, holding onto you with such want that it was completely maddening. Suguru quickly became a man, crazed, refusing to hunt for his keep, instead sustaining himself with a hunt for his lifeline, to feed you.

(What was his job again?)

(Who was he again?)

He watched you lap up his blood, just like he was used to by now, but tonight in particular, he let his arousal show and as if spurred on from your lack of complaint, he reluctantly pulled back from you, averting your blood-lusted gaze to meet with his own. He pulled you up, allowing your lips to crash against his—kissing—tasting himself with his tongue, driving him into unhinged heights of realisation alone.

He wanted you more than anything else.

Suguru’s fingernails dug into your hips, leaving behind bloodied half-moon scratches into your skin as he drew you in even closer. A part of him knew that he should be pulling away before this threatened to spiral even further, but you weren’t fighting him back on this either.

You wanted this too.

You were admittedly turned on, you couldn’t even deny it. You lost yourself in the same way that he had been losing himself from the very moment he laid eyes on you. Your fangs sank into his lips, grazing at the tender wet flesh; your fingers twisted into the fabric of his shirt too, as if to tether yourself to him in rising need.

A sharp sting pulsed through him as a result, a bead of blood that became mixed in the mutual kiss shared. Suguru shuddered, as a result, his violet eyes dark with something raw, perhaps even consuming.

“You’re…” he trailed off, unable to keep his eyes off of you, staring at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world, “you’re the most dangerous thing I have ever come across.”

Realistically, he knew should have been afraid of what was about to happen—but he wasn’t—neither were you. The two of you might as well have both been too far gone. And so when you leaned in again, feeding him that same sultry look again, Suguru understood one thing in particular; he had to let you take him under because in the heat of the moment, he wanted to drown.

You straddled him in a rising frenzy, making quick work of the fabric that had both concealed your obvious arousal. Suguru, who was maddeningly hard, sought out your slick warmth with pained intensity. And as soon as he was able to do so, he plunged into you with frenzied ease, shuddering at the intoxicating intensity. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, his arms pulled you in even closer and when he opened them again, he stared at you with a wild, close to hysterical light, finally understanding the true extent of his obsession with you.

“Fuck, you feel… so… good,” he grunted as he felt your hips roll with the buck of his rhythm, his words rutting out in tune with his thrusted impact.

You parted your lips away from him at the same time, seeking out his neck instead, knowing that you also shouldn’t, but when lost in a haze of lust, who were you too, if not a creature driven by pure instinct? Your teeth sank in, hitting his pulse point, feeding off of him as he impaled your heat, lost in a world of your own.

Suguru threw his head back with a strangled moan, feeling your teeth sink into his flesh, not quite fighting you back either. This sort of new pain was freshly intense with no pleasurable recovery, but he didn’t care, too lost in his possessive stupor to bring himself to stop you. Instead, he pushed you in even closer; entangling himself around your scalp, shuddering out gasps of fevered anguish from every little pull of your lips, from each swallow of his blood.

“Shit,” he gasped out, unable to quite control his reactions anymore. He drove himself into you with manic fervour, slamming himself with a ferocity that bordered on violence as he drowned in rising waves of dark ecstasy pulsing through his veins. His pace was relentless, almost punishing and painful, but he was too lost in the crazed pursuit of passion to even care.

Indeed, Suguru, with you, had managed to surrender himself utterly and completely to you, unable to even fight back against his life force slowly fading away with each passing draw of your lips. He held you tight, encouraging you to feed off of him deeper, encouraging you to take more as he pumped himself into you with heedless abandon; his own hips giving out, leaving you to guide his way to meet with the release he so desperately craved

Suguru held on, lulled into a tranquilised, if even overjoyed (at last) state, muttering out merely whispered instances of pleading mantras, “don’t stop,” was one you heard, “give yourself t’me,” was another; a man completely obsessed with keeping you right were you were.

You finished feeding soon though, needing him to stick around, even if the damage potentially done to his bloodstream was irreversible. Feeling himself come back too, Suguru held on tight against your hips, crashing himself into your cunt with a hurried frenzy, letting slip of a ragged gasp as he finally felt you come undone, with his sought-after release following suit just as quick. He continued to hold on, feeling himself pulse and twitch and empty into your battered sex; draining all of the pent-up tension, all of his anger, of his never-once-appointed passion, deep into your now-tight, spent core.

You fell over him as a result, finally relaxing as you melted atop his body. Suguru couldn’t help but shudder at the intensity of the afterglow, not even feeling angry for the changes he felt. He lost himself, after all, from the very moment he gave you a chance; so this was on him, not you. If not slightly dazed, he managed to lift his head and look at you, his eyes glazed and bloodshot, exhausted with possessive satisfaction.

Suguru kept you plugged up for the time being, unrelenting on his hold over you as if letting go of you would mean the end of the world. His breathing refused to calm and his thoughts raced with obsessive mania. The high lingered too, never once subsiding, not like before. Even as his vision blurred and faded to black, he knew he was going to be fine, because the look you gave him back was just as possessive in return.

You were his as much as he was yours and neither of you would allow another to state one another. You belonged to each other now. You were beyond what could have been codependent, perhaps even working as one.

A parasite you were, indeed, he not only carried your burden, but even in his potentially changed form, he would seek to still sustain you.

You watched on as he sighed, as his eyes finally fluttered shut, as his body sank further into a dreamless sleep, with his hold on you never once relaxing.

You followed suit, just as soon, content that you had found a solution for your hunger.

While Suguru finally had found a solution to his madness.

Perhaps this would be his undoing. Maybe even yours too.

(But maybe that was just meant to be.)

[just-some-user-hunny]

Yandere vampire hunter D

‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊Yandere D and his obsession ♡...

~✧ Having D as your yandere is a complex experience. He wants to be close, but he stays far away. He needs to make sure you're safe, but please don't see him. He cannot bear the pain of your rejection.

~✧ Unlike his reputable existence- he's not a cruel yandere. he's too gentle for a dhampir, but too unorthodox for a human. He's an entity all of his own- a strange creature that beckons silently and unexpectedly under to your heed and calls for help, without you even knowing it.

~✧ He's a stalking yandere who watches and protects you from far away- he'll always be the eerie extra set of footsteps that follow accompany you home. He's the shadow who occupies the darkness that lingers in doorways- the shape of a foreboding figure leering silently in your home when you think you're all alone... Unaware of the filthy vampires blood that wets his blade, the one that stalked you home that very evening. He took care of it, but you don't need to know that.

~✧ He is always near- as much as he can spare, when he is not hunting the creatures whom he shares blood with. It is not often that he parts from your shadow from afar, and traverses away from the direction of your sweet breath and presence- but when he does, you'll always linger in the back of his mind.

~✧"I mean it D. This is getting dangerous now". The parasite will seeth quietly, only to be wordlessly silenced with a stern commanding grip. This is of no concern to you, stay out of this.

~✧ The parasite will grumble and huff. Of course this is of concern to him. He can see every dark crevice of this dhampires mind- and frankly he's tired of the constant presence of you occupying it. Your name, your face, your hair, your figure, your blood-

~✧ Silence. D will command with a cool, icy tone. Peeved.

~✧ D has vowed to protect you from everything that means harm, and he means everything. Even himself. He can deny all he wants, but he knows his urges will always be lurking within him- no matter how hard he resists. Be assured he's a damn good fighter, but it will urge him to stay away further for the sake of your safety.

He is half human like you, yes- but he also has the blood of vampyre. Dark depraved creatures of the night that desire blood and agony. He cannot deny himself of his own existence, he has tried well and truly- and this obsession of his won't change that.

The parts of him that reveal are always soft and lenient. Subtle and protective. If only you could see the darkness of his desires that twist and coil within him like a nest of asps. Slithering and hissing with poison and desire.

~✧ But believe it when I say this, he is not a sadistic creature. Especially towards you. He may hunger for you, desires of possession and adoration grasping at his cold heart- but trust that no harm will ever come to you. Especially by his own hand or word. Does he frighten you with his daunting height and unnerving presence? Very well. He'll stay out of sight, appearing nothing more than a shadow in your footsteps. Does being followed home scare you? Then he shall take care in not getting too close then- close enough where you are within his sights, but not close enough where you can hear his steady and even footsteps following in your own tracks.

~✧ As time goes on and you inevitably catch onto his presence, things will gradually change. There's only so many times you awake to find yourself properly tucked into bed after collapsing onto your couch after a long day at work, or capture a glimpse of the tall foreboding shadow in your doorway to use the same excuse of exhaustion to explain it. It's not just paranoid fueled visions anymore.

~✧ However, much to your chagrin and determination to expose whoever this mysterious guardian angel of yours is, he'll never expose himself. He can't afford it. You'll often be left feeling like a fool as you call out into the dark street for whoever he is to appear- only to be met with the stillness of the lonely night and sound of cicadas chirping softly in the grass.

~✧ The only scenario in which he would ever approach and expose his identity, is if you were in trouble. Still- once the threat is gone, and you are safe, he's eager to dispel back into the shadows.

~✧ The thing with D as a yandere, is that he's fully lucid about what he's doing is... Wrong. But he can't help himself. Often he is troubled with the morals of his own doing- a neverending internal debate. Thoughts upon thoughts spiral and twist into an endless entangling web, and all he can do is mull over it and helplessly tangle at his own thoughts with a distant stare and tongue held between his sharp teeth. Brooding and mulling.

~✧ He knows this isn't right. His desires to protect you are more than that of a silent saviour- he's not doing this for a reward or thanks- he's not looking for your gratitude or admiration. He's selfish. So selfish. You are something that occupies the loneliness that will forever haunt him- keeping you alive is all he has left to grasp upon to give him hope for a life beyond this bleak ongoing existence of his.

~✧ He's so selfish when he imagines you waiting at home for him. Selfish when he imagines holding you, gazing upon you adoringly because he's missed you after a long day's work.

~✧ He won't admit these little fantasies of his- his yearnings for a life of his own. He doesn't dare say them out loud- like an unspoken dream that'll fade if ever spoken. A silly whimsy of a naive child who doesn't know any better...

~✧ These little thoughts will stay his. Only he can keep these delusional conjured memories- they're the only ones he can keep.

~✧ So please, take no mind of him. Live freely in the light as he guards you in the shadows. Take your fill of life and death sweetly and peacefully, all under the watchful eye and encompassing cloak of night of none other than vampire hunter D

I'm admittedly not quite sure if I like this or not, I feel a little in the dark with his character due to only watching the two movies (?), and knowing there's novels out there that'll explain his lore and character in much more depth.

If there's anyone who knows more about vampire hunter D, I'd love to hear your thoughts and ideas!