#we love a bloodied vampire here

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Okay, so vampire Eddie is a pretty standard trope at this point, but may I offer...Twilight vampire Eddie who is absolutely pissed off about his sparkly existence?

Eddie actually isn't that old, he was turned in the 80s when he was around 20. He lives with his small and not only vampire family. There's patriarch Wayne, his partner Scott who always becomes a teacher no matter where they move, Claudia Henderson and her son that have been with them ever since Scott noticed Dustin being unusually quiet in his class and soon after, Wayne kicked out his abusive father.

The problem with living with a smart man who loves educating people and a man who never received the education he deserved is - they take school really, really seriously. Whenever they move, Eddie usually has to re-join high school, it's all "just so that you have some socialization! Also we need to be able to blend in, so look around and see what's normal with young people! Also I'm pretty sure some of the stuff we know is now obsolete or disproven, so make sure to tell us!". And Eddie loves Wayne and Scott, he really does, but he had trouble blending in even when he was alive, so now? Impossible. As for gathering information, Eddie has been trying for decades to explain to Wayne that even if becoming a vampire healed the wounds from the lynching mob, it didn't do shit for his ADHD, so there. Wayne finds Eddie banging his head into a desk one day and chanting "WHAT-THE-FUCK-IS-TIK-TOK?!"

So yes, Eddie hates being a forever highschooler, but it also means he can run DnD clubs everywhere he joins and he's not even lynched for it like in the 80s, so hey, progress! He gets mostly content with his existence, except that he's fucking sparkly and can't turn into a bat, so what's the point?!

But then a huge group of people moves from the close town of Hawkins, they had a really fucked up earthquake - Wayne told him all about it, he often volunteered in rescue and high risk works, and he's never seen anything like it - and their little town becomes way more crowded. There are high school freshmen just begging to be introduced to his club, Hellfire, although one of them is scary observant and Eddie is really sure that Jane knows he's a vampire.

And then there's Steve Harrington. A young man with the prettiest hair ever who joined Eddie's class, apparently he needs to repeat the last year too because if your school burns down, you can't take final exams. He's stupidly pretty, snarky, bitchy, and even though he could be partying day and night and spending the rest of his time on dates, he prefers to hang around with the freshmen. Lucas tells him one day that Steve got badly hurt when he was digging through the collapsed middle school, finding and rescuing their whole group, and well...Eddie respects that. Dustin absolutely loves Steve and maybe Eddie feels a bit jealous, but he has to admit - the guy is cool.

The problem with Steve Harrington is this - he's seen so much shit that nothing really fazes him. Eddie loves shocking people. Steve is unshockable. It becomes their little game, they get close, Eddie realizes he has an embarrassing crush, all that jazz. He tries dropping hints, he slurps his bloody lunch from a bottle that has a "THIS IS DEFINITELY TOMATO JUICE AND NOTHING ELSE". He wears a cape. He adopts a horrible Dracula accent. Nothing works. Steve always just laughs and tells him that he's weird and that's why he likes him.

Finally, Eddie has enough. They walk in the woods to get high, Eddie decides to break the ice, he scoops up Steve, does his whole dashing-through-the-woods thing, and he hopes that he can finally share his secret with Steve.

Except Steve just pats his back and says "Wow, that was cool, man! You'd be amazing at track. Great core strength too," and Eddie's head implodes.

"Okay, Steve. Don't you think there's something rotten here?" he tries.

"I mean, it's the woods. Of course there's something rotting all the time."

Eddie tries again. "You've noticed something strange, haven't you. I'm inhumanly fast and strong."

"I sure didn't expect that! You must be secretly training. I didn't know this town had a gym."

Again. "My skin is pale white and ice cold."

Steve is watching a nearby squirrel instead of looking horrified. "Yeah, not all people tan great, Robin is like that too. And I told you, man. Your circulation is shit, you need better socks and some gloves too."

"My eyes change color."

"Yeah, I know, I do envy you that you can wear those cool contact lenses. My eyes are too dry for that."

Eddie is growing desperate, he's gesturing at the trees because Steve doesn't listen. "I speak like I'm from a different time."

"80s slashers will do that to you. You basically live on those. But I gotta admit that they're pretty fun. Oh look, she's got an acorn! Clever girl!"

"Very clever. Also I never eat or drink anything."

"Hey, I'm not judging. Some people prefer one or two meals in a day instead of the whole five meal thing."

Eddie feels like howling and he isn't even a werewolf. "I. DON'T. GO. INTO. THE. SUNLIGHT."

Steve's eyes finally leave the squirrel. "Duh. We've already established you can't tan."

And Eddie's had enough. He tears off his t-shirt, marches directly into the sunlight and throws the biggest tantrum of his life. "STEVEN HARRINGTON. PAY ATTENTION. I am 20. I have been 20 for a while now. You know what I am, right? I am a vampire. So ask me the question, what do we eat? That wasn't a fucking tomato juice Steven!!!"

Steve just watches him with quiet amusement, as if he's waiting for something.

Eddie doesn't notice. His monologue is reaching its most dramatic part. "I've killed people before! I'm the world's most dangerous predator!"

Steve snorts. "I saw you trip over your own feet in the cafeteria."

"Not the point!"

"You told a waitress "you too" when she told you to enjoy your meal."

Eddie actually howls now. "THE POINT IS." He spins in the sunlight and sees the reflections of light off his skin. "I wouldn't have minded becoming a vampire, but let me tell you. Being stuck in high school forever? Sucks. Craving chips and throwing them up whenever you try them? SUCKS. And thinking you've become the legendary creature of the night when you're a glorified glitter mascot?! And you can't even fly?! DOUBLE SUCKS."

He points at his bare glittering chest. "THIS THE SKIN OF A FUCKING DISCO BALL, STEVE!"

Steve just laughs and gets up from the tree stump he was sitting on. "Thanks for sharing. I was kinda hoping you'd finally ask me out since this is the first time we've had some privacy, but this was interesting too."

Eddie's sharing mania suddenly stops. He realizes he's shirtless in the middle of the forest, and his yelling has scared off the squirrel. He promptly grabs his shirt and puts in on. "Um. You...you wanted me to ask you out? Because I totally want to do that. Yep. But I thought it would have been unfair to ask you before I told you-"

"That you're a vampire? Dude, I know."

Eddie blinks once. Then again. "Excusemewhat?"

Steve smiles at him and touches his hand. "Look. After what happened in Hawkins, I know the smell of blood. I knew it wasn't tomato juice. Also I've accompanied the kids to enough monster flicks to know."

"Oh." Eddie licks his lips and doesn't really know what to say. "Um. What...does that mean for us?"

Laughing, Steve grabs his other hand too. "Definitely two things. One - you can and should kiss me. Two - you can stop wearing that cape. I got your point."

"Oh okay. Cool. Will do. Both."

And since Eddie Munson is a vampire of his word, he does.

(Wayne is absolutely delighted that Eddie is dating, he watches sports with Steve and discusses the pros and cons of Steve becoming a paramedic. Scott helps Steve with some of the subjects he's struggling with. In return, Steve works with Robin to find a makeup brand that is fully sparkleproof, giving the vampires a chance to walk in the sunlight again. And sometimes, he helps them answer the questions that have been plaguing the Munson-Clarke-Henderson household for years...such as: what is TikTok?)

(oh and also. Turns out Steve really thought Eddie was wearing creepy contact lenses. That one aspect of vampyrism he found very cool)

[bg-brainrot]

More than Vampiric Charms (Astarion x Tav)

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Summary: After some banter between Astarion and Jaheira goes too far, you (Tav) take some time to remind Astarion that he is so much more than a pair of fangs.

Tags: POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Comfort, Vampire Spawn Astarion, set in Act 3, Astarion is Bad at Feelings, Blood, Blood Drunk, blood as a coping mechanism

A/N: Thank you to everyone who voted for this banter in my last poll! This was a fun one c:

Word count: ~3.2k

Walking through the streets of Baldur's Gate is always an adventure with your group– a particularly fraught adventure on this day, as Jaheira and Astarion seem hellsbent on trading barbs.

It had started out playfully enough, with a snide remark from Astarion, "Oh that building used to be a delightful little sweets shop about a hundred years ago. Though I suppose the crone would remember that, wouldn’t she?”

Jaheira, used to remarks about her age, often being the one to start them, was ready with a quick quip back, “Was that before or after your hair turned gray? With my old age, I can never remember.”

Astarion visibility bit back a remark about this being his natural hair color when you glared back at both of them. “Could we focus a bit please? You two can reminisce after we’ve seen to this latest bloody basement.”

One trail of blood, a disgusting array of corpses, and a piece of clown later and the two of them were at it again.

“Jaheira,” Astarion had started in a light tone– a clear indicator that he had no intent to focus. “Have you considered taking on the role of Dribbles the clown yourself? The makeup might help cover all those pesky wrinkles.”

The druid had snickered, appreciating the comment, and shot back, “I think you would be better suited to the role, given you are already a fool.”

That time, Karlach had interrupted, “Don’t either of you dare! No one could replace this Baldurian hero.”

“Which is exactly why we’re helping to piece him back together,” you’d confirmed with a nod. “Besides, you’re both cranky enough to make the children weep.”

“Darling!” Astarion had gasped, an offended hand on his chest. “How could you say that about me?”

You’d ignored his question, instead choosing to deposit a quick kiss on his pursed lips. A soft, effective bandaid that left the man with crossed arms and a reluctant smile. 

Moments later, you were ushering the group out of the building and into the city. Insults forgotten, everyone began trudging the familiar path back to the Elfsong to clean up.

Now, along this very path, you hear Jaheira strike up a new conversation with Astarion– one that has your ears perking up, even as you continue to lead the way ahead.

“It seems that you and our leader are closer than ever,” the woman observes, a smile in her voice.

There’s a moment of silence, and you can practically see Astarion’s suspicious expression in your mind’s eye as he assesses the situation. “Yes, you could say that,” he finally replies. “What can I say? I am, after all, quite charming.”

“I am glad it is your non-vampiric charms our friend has fallen for, Astarion.” A short, thoughtful pause follows before she asks, “It is, isn’t it?”

“Of course,” Astarion responds, his voice reaching a comically high pitch– one that almost makes you laugh. You want to hear this conversation more than most though, so not a sound escapes your lips. The vampire scoffs before he continues. "Is it so unbelievable that they would simply like me?"

There’s a clear hesitation as Astarion’s words hang in the air.

You wonder why Jaheira isn’t responding, what her expression must be– but before you can turn around to find out more, Astarion is speaking again.

“If you insist on prying,” he starts, clearing his throat a bit pointedly. “Perhaps you’d care to join us. And see how much we enjoy one another.”

The insinuation in his tone is almost enough to have you spinning around– teasing Karlach or Shadowheart is one thing, but Jaheira? Gods, you can feel the heat rising up your neck– “Why?” Jaheira snaps back. “Do you require some instruction on how the deed is done?”

“I’m sure even I could learn some new tricks from an old veteran such as yourself,” Astarion replies, mirth shining through in his tone.

Wait, is he actually inviting her?

You know you need to stop this conversation before it mortifies you any further. “Stop it, both of you!” you say, turning your head back, trying your best to keep a stern, not-at-all embarrassed expression on your face. “We don’t need the next installment of ‘Love at First Knife’ getting any more convoluted.”

There’s some grumbling from Astarion, an amused smile from Jaheira, and a chortle from Karlach, but otherwise your group makes it back to the Elfsong without tearing each other– or their clothes– apart.

__

That evening, Astarion slips away.

It’s not an unusual occurrence– some days his hunger is harder to ignore than others, on some you hadn’t found nearly enough evil to suck dry. Ultimately, he never wanted to take too much blood from you, so he chooses to forage as he has taken to calling it.

As a result, you think nothing of it at first, settling into bed after dinner with a book propped between your hands. After all, Cazador is dead, and Astarion is more than capable of taking down some of the most fearsome enemies in the city– he should take all the time he needs to himself.

But the hours pass, and Astarion has yet to return. The candles around you begin to dwindle, words begin to swim on a page you haven’t turned in quite some time, and sleep slowly but surely starts to drag your eyelids down.

It has almost claimed you when the door to your shared room at the Elfsong slams shut. You hear groans from around the room as those who were similarly drifting off to bed are shocked awake, everyone expecting yet another unwelcome visitor. You almost don’t have time to react before an armor-clad vampire lands atop of you.

You do react though, instinctively striking at the man with the spine of your book, a loud ‘thwack’ letting you know that your contact was true.

“Oof,” Astarion mutters, now fully splayed across your torso like a stretching cat. “Darling, must you be so violent?”

“Astarion?” you ask, putting down your book, shaking off the beginning throes of sleep as you realize what’s transpired. “Weapons down everyone, it’s Astarion.”

After a few affirmative grumbles from around the room, you turn your attention back to the vampire, “Are you alright? Did you get injured?”

“Mmm,” he murmurs, burying his face in your blanket, and rubbing at the spot where you’d hit him. “Nothing's the matter. Everything is perfectly dandy.”

His words slur though and something seems to be amiss. His movements are fluid, his body weight is completely and utterly relaxed onto you.

Almost as if…

“Are you… drunk?” you haven’t seen him like this since the bear he drank near the grove. When you’d asked him the question then, he’d shrugged it off– but it was certainly the closest to drunk you’d ever seen him.

“Not strictly speaking, no…” he drolls, tilting his head slightly to stare at you with one eye. His cheeks are flushed, a telltale sign of his recent feeding, and his eye is glazed over, its blissful sheen telling you all that you need to know.

“Have a good dinner, did you?” you ask, smiling down at him wearily. You can hardly fault him for indulging, especially after the couple of weeks you’ve had.

He chuckles, his one visible eye crinkling a bit. “Oh yes. A rather large bugbear. Hardly knew what bit him.”

You run a hand through Astarion’s hair, and respond, “Well done, my sweet, bloodthirsty vampire.”

Normally, such sweet words of unabashed ​​flattery would elicit a smile, a laugh, maybe even a kiss– but tonight Astarion freezes under your touch, his eye going wide before he tucks his face back into the bedding.

“Astarion?” you ask, your previous worry about injury now promptly replaced by a worry of a much deeper hurt.

“It’s nothing,” he mutters, voice sounding distant.

You scratch at his scalp, a bit, trying to encourage him back toward you. “Love, you know you’re a terrible liar. What’s wrong?”

He gives a soft, annoyed huff– an endearing, drunken noise were it not for the fact that he seems determined not to look at you. And continue to crush you with the full weight of his body.

“Astarion,” you say again, with a bit more emphasis, shaking his head a little with your next scratch. “If nothing is truly wrong, I will wake up Karlach. You know she would love to see you in this state.” As if to punctuate your point, a snore sounds from a few beds over, where you know the barbarian slumbers.

“Please don’t,” he murmurs, finally turning around to look at you fully.

You’re surprised to see his eyebrows furrowed, his lips turned down in a truly melancholy frown– always an expressive man, it seems that Astarion’s intoxicated demeanor is twice as exaggerated. Cute, you think. But also concerning. “Love,” you whisper, running a hand along his face. “Talk to me.”

Astarion hesitates, his watery eyes wincing as he debates his next words. Those same red eyes show an unexpected amount of vulnerability– all that bugbear blood is keeping his expression open, his entire face a rosy hue. His mouth opens, closes, his body shifts, and he fumbles with the latches on his armor as he thinks. You simply lay there, playing with his curls until he’s ready.

When he finally speaks, his words take you by surprise.

“You don’t just like me because I’m a vampire… do you?”

“What?” you ask, eyebrows raising in disbelief. Surely, you misheard him.

“You know,” he continues, waving a hand about the air. “My vampiric charms. The fangs. The blood sucking. The mysterious allure?”

“Why in the nine hells would you think that?” You reach a hand out to grab his, tugging on it gently to try to get him to sit up.

Astarion’s eyes drift away from you, but he does sit up, legs draping over your stomach. “Just… because of something Jaheira said.”

Oh. The conversation you’d been eavesdropping on.

“Do you mean what she said earlier? On our way back to the Elfsong?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Well, yes,” he mutters, still not looking at you. “Though I can’t help but notice you haven’t answered my question…”

“Astarion,” you start, releasing his hand, only to place it on the slightly flushed skin of his cheek. “No, I do not only like you because you’re a vampire.” Your words are firm, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

His eyes meet yours again, and still you can see so much doubt, so much unmitigated fear. “Are you certain? You truly do seem to enjoy it when I bite you.”

“Well, that’s true,” you admit with a small wince. It does feel rather… good when he bites you, it would be a lie to say otherwise and, besides, you’ve told him as much before. “But that’s not why I like you, you fool.”

Astarion’s bottom lip slips into a small pout and he moves away from your hand. “You’re not very convincing, you know? Especially when you call me a fool.”

You scooch out a bit from under him, leaving your legs under his. With all of the severity in the world, you reply, “If it makes you feel better, I’m a fool too.”

“You are?” he asks, curious despite himself– easily falling for your little trap.

“A fool for you.”

The noise that escapes him is half groan, half chuckle, and his mouth pulls into a lopsided little smile that you’re not certain you would have earned were he not a bit blooddrunk. “Gods, how the hells did I fall for you?”

“Now you’re asking the right questions,” you respond with a smirk on your face. When you place a hand on his knee, the smirk turns into a small smile. “But I’m being genuine– I don’t like you because you’re a vampire. And before you ask, I don’t love you because of your vampirism either.”

He gives a small huff. “Well, Jaheira made it sound as if there wasn’t much else to care for.” An uncharacteristic admittance from him– normally he would brush off such a statement with a proud declaration of how phenomenal he is. But it seems that Jaheira’s words cut deep– and that blood has loosened his lips.

“Jaheira, despite all of her many, many years of experience–” you enjoy the full laugh that elicits. “simply doesn’t have my refined taste. There are so many reasons to like you, love. In fact, vampirism doesn’t even make the list.”

“Oh, you’re keeping track, are you?” he asks, folding his arms and body over his legs and smiling up at you.

“Maybe,” you murmur, leaning forward toward him. “Would you like a sampling of reasons?”

The look he gives you then is hopeful, but more than a little dread slips through in his shining red eyes. When he answers, his voice is barely above a whisper. “Only if you mean them.”

This withdrawn, unsure Astarion isn’t a common sight to you, but, like every other facet of the man before you, he’s no less lovable. So you lean forward, placing a kiss on his pale forehead, and say, “I mean them with my whole heart.”

“Then… I suppose I ought to be lavished with them," he murmurs, and you spot the blush intensifying over his cheeks, now also coloring his ears.

Coupled with his fluid, inebriated state, his heart laid bare before you, you want to scream the reasons from the roof of the Elfsong, if only for him to believe you. But, as it is, the soft snores of your companions keep your voice hushed, your face close to his as you begin.

“Let’s see… should I start with the first thing that stood out to me?”

He hums in agreement, and closes his eyes, as if preparing to listen to the sweetest tune known to the entirety of Faerun.

“Well, it started with your first lie, I think,” you start.

Astarion gives a disapproving groan, but doesn’t open his eyes.

“My dear, you said you said you had a ‘brain thing’ cornered– I hope you know the smile on my face wasn’t from confidence,” you say with a new, fond smile at the memory. “I just knew from that moment on, you didn’t much care for what others thought of you, as long as your goals were met. A kindred spirit. Or so you said that day.”

At that, he reopens his eyes. “That’s not true.”

“We’re not kindred spirits?” you ask, an unexpected tinge of hurt blooming in your chest.

“That’s true,” he says, balming the hurt quickly. “It’s not true that I don’t care what others think of me. I do. Well, maybe not everyone.” His eyes dart toward Gale’s bed and you stifle a snicker. “But I certainly care what you think of me.”

You look into his crimson eyes, a bit clearer now than when you began talking– the blood seems to be working its way through his system. His words come from a place of honesty, not a lack of inhibition.

“Then, let me assure you here and now,” you murmur, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. “I think–” Another quick peck on his lips. “you’re the funniest–” A kiss to his nose. “the most deft–” A brush of lips against his temple. “creative, endearing, brave–” Each word comes with a kiss along his jaw. “man I’ve ever met.”

Astarion’s eyes look at you, his face still for a moment as he considers your words. When he finally speaks, it’s a quiet, choked up question, “Oh, is that it?”

“Would you like me to keep going?” you ask, lips perched just above his eyebrow, ready for another round.

He shakes his head ever so slightly. “No– no need or you’ll be here all night, surely,” he says, posturing as best as he can while still looking at you with fearful eyes. Almost as if your candid praise is simply too much for him to bear.

It may be too much, and you’re not one to push it.

“Very well,” you say, pulling back. “But I didn’t even get to how good you look covered in blood…”

The man gives a light laugh at that, some of his nerves melting before praise he understands– his appearance is a source of comfort, one that brings him back to himself. “Oooh yes, I do look dashing in red, don’t I?” he purrs, a content smile forming on his face.

“That you do,” you assure, with your own warm look. You wish he would accept all praise this easily, but you suppose this is all you can do for now.

So little of what matters to you is his vampirism, his looks… but for a man like Astarion, for whom a kind word felt like a double-edged blade for two centuries? Well, you’re reminded that regardless of how many times you may tell him, whether now when he’s a bit fuzzy around the edges or when you’re in your cups, he may never truly believe you.

No matter, you suppose. I’ll simply keep finding new ways to show him how much I care for him…

“So Jaheira was kidding, right?” Astarion asks, sitting up and finally beginning to remove his leathers.

You nod, moving to help him remove his greaves. “Naturally. I thought you’d been enjoying the conversation, actually.”

“I had been,” he replies, thoughtfully. “But the more I remembered how sinfully you shiver under my fangs…”

He’s dodging before you can so much as flick his ear. “Excuse you. Is that any way to treat your most reliable source of sustenance?”

Astarion smirks as he leans away from you in the bed. “Oh darling, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. After all, you can’t help it.”

“Astarion–”

“Ehem!” You hear from somewhere behind you. It’s followed shortly by Shadowheart’s annoyed voice, “Would the two of you please keep it down? Some of us are trying to rest.”

If by ‘rest’ she means ‘reach the end of her copper novel’, then you suppose she’s right. Either way, you whisper back, “Sorry, I was defending my dignity.”

“What dignity?” she murmurs back. “And in case you’re wondering, you’re both utter fools.”

Oh great, she’d heard everything.

“Shadowheart, were you eavesdropping?” Astarion asks, crawling over you to glare at her from the edge of your bed. He’s half-dressed and still somewhat out of sorts, so you just lean back against the pillows and accept your fate.

“Is it really eavesdropping if I can hear it all clearly?” the cleric says, and you hear her book snap shut. “Besides, Astarion, if you really needed someone to reassure you, you should have asked me.”

“You?” he asks, incredulously. “And why should I ask you?”

“Because,” she starts, and you can hear her wicked smile in her tone. “I can confirm without a shadow of a doubt that there’s no such thing as ‘vampiric charm.’ I’ve never felt less charmed in my entire life.”

You can sense Astarion is just about ready to light Shadowheart’s hair on fire, so you tug him back down from the divide. “Thank you for that clarification, Shadowheart,” you call, biting back a laugh. “And I’m starting to realize none of us really have private conversations, do we?”

“No, we do not,” you hear Gale reply from a few beds away.

With that, Astarion gives an exasperated sigh and the two of you finish removing his armor in silence.  When you’re both finally ready for bed and you whisper to him, “Goodnight.” Shadowheart, Gale, and Wyll all respond, “Goodnight!”

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

I Am Here Now

And we are back with more hurt/comfort!

Thank you to all those posts about this particularly heartbreaking scene from The Last Unicorn and that one post about how it would fit Astarion and that one comic that made it come to life with pictures. Here's my contribution to it with words.

Summary: Even though the two of you push each other away, you always find a way to come back to one another.

He’d thought you had left him alone to die. Even after all the sweet things he’s said, about how he trusts you, how he knows you will be there for him, he still doubted you when it counted. Captured by vampire hunters, he’d been held in a cage for so long that he’d lost count, or perhaps it was the torture his captors had decided to inflict upon him that had made him lose count. At some point, he had lost all hope of you coming to rescue him, believing himself to be unworthy of the effort needed.

And then you had shown up in all your bloody glory, howling with rage and cutting down any hunter who had stood in your way. He had never been happier to see you again, and never been angrier.

“Where have you been?” He chokes, collapsing into your arms the moment he is free of the accursed cage. You silently hold him tight, gaze downcast. Rage rekindles within you when you see how broken the hunters have made the one you love, and you wish you could bring the hunters back just to make them suffer over and over again.

“I am here now,” you whisper, hoping to comfort him. You should have searched harder, hunted fiercer, found him faster, prevented the whole kidnapping in the first place. It was your naivety that had landed him in this situation, it was all your fault.

“And what good is it to me that you’re here now?” Astarion hates that you’re seeing him with his walls shattered, his broken heart laid bare before you. Self-hatred overtakes him, spewing venom meant for himself at you. The words tear him apart and pierce your heart, shattering it but you still hold onto him. You’ve finally found him after such a long and anxious search, you’re not letting him go any time soon.

“Where were you twenty years ago? Ten years ago? Hells, a hundred years ago?” He cries, clawed fingertips digging into your skin. The fabric of your top crumples beneath his fingers, tears dampening the cloth. His voice breaks, words dissolving into sobs as he buries his face into your chest, wanting nothing more than to disappear, dissolve, be anywhere but here. Yet you hold him close, wrapping him in your warm embrace despite the daggers that have embedded themselves in your heart courtesy of him. You let him vent it all out, giving him the space he never had even though each sob rips at your heart further.

“How dare you,” he whimpers once his tears have sapped him of all his energy, “how dare you come to me now, when I am this?” He hadn’t been the best person back when he was alive, corruption ran deep in the city he was magistrate of perpetuated by his truly, but at least he had been as normal as any elf could be. Now he was a vampire spawn, weaker than true vampires but with the same weaknesses. He had fallen so far down, a slave to both sanguine hunger and Cazador, a creature sealed in darkness lest he be dissolved by the sun, a monster despised by all.

All but you.

You let him weakly hit you, the punches lacking malice as they lightly connect with your skin and sobs continue to wrack his body. Running your fingers through his hair, you pull him as close as you possibly can and rest his head on your shoulder.

“I wish you had never come.” The words leave his lips in a whisper. The words he never meant, the words he wished he could take back the moment he spoke them, the words that hurt the most. You flinch at the words but tell yourself that he doesn’t mean it, that the words just slipped out on accident, that it was the self-loathing and trauma that spun these words, right?

“Why did you come now?”

You feel him go limp in your arms, slipping into unconciousness as exhaustion takes hold of him. As Halsin moves to carry him back to camp, you reach up and touch something wet on your face. Tears. Something catches in your throat and you tell your companions to head back to camp first, you’ll catch up with them later. Despite the looks of concern, they do as you say at Jaheira’s behest, the older woman knowing that you needed some space.

You mindlessly walk in the opposite direction of the camp, the warmth of the sun a distant feeling despite it blazing high in the sky. Numbness envelopes your body, sending chills down your spine but nothing can overpower the pain in your heart. His words have cut deep, even if you try to convince yourself otherwise and the freshness of the air that you usually enjoy does nothing to alleviate the hurt.

With a sigh, you collapse against a tree trunk, sucking in a deep breath at the twinge of pain that shoots up your side. Shit. Blood has soaked through your tunic on your left side and lifting up the cloth reveals a nasty gash courtesy of a rogue’s dagger. You let out a ragged breath, chest heaving as you rip your tunic off and press the cloth against the wound, hoping to staunch the bleeding before you die of blood loss. White hot pain shoots through you the moment the cloth makes contact and you bite your lip to suppress the yelp, willing yourself to remain strong until you can stagger back to camp and get the wound healed. Knocking back the last healing potion in your pack, you force yourself to stand once more, limping in the direction of camp and past the concerned stares of your companions straight into your tent where you collapse once more, this time unable to bite back a cry of pain when the action tears at your wound. You down more healing potions, a groan of relief escaping your lips as you feel the wound stitching itself together, your body feeling lighter with each mouthful.

Shadowheart peers into your tent but you wave her away, muttering something about wanting some space and she obliges, but leaves a few more healing potions behind just in case. You tuck yourself into your bed roll, something you haven’t done in quite a while now ever since Astarion took it upon himself to be the one to make you comfortable, and the thought sends another twang of sadness through your heart.

Did he want you back? You wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t, it was your fault after all that he got kidnapped. You had been the childish one, yelling at him to get out of your sight after he had been trying to get you to take a break, going as far as to push him out of your tent physically and slamming the tent flap shut, completely missing the flash of hurt in his eyes. The next time you had left your tent, wanting to apologise, Wyll informed you that Astarion left the camp some time ago and had yet to return, panic setting in when Gale pointed out Astarion had disappeared for half a day. You were the one who had driven him away first, it was only fair that he returned the favour.

Pulling the blanket over your head, you bury yourself in the darkness, tears pricking the edges of your eyes again. You had hurt him, perhaps more than he had hurt you, made worse by your prior promise to never hurt him. He didn’t deserve you, he deserved someone who could perfectly love him, cherish him, give him everything he needed and more.

“Y/N?” A quiet voice calls out but you remain still. You recognise the voice, why was he here?

“I know you’re there, darling. You can’t hide from me that easily.” His voice is louder now, coming from next to your bedroll but you stubbornly remain where you are. You hear a shuffling sound and something impacts the ground — he probably seated himself on the ground.

“I…I wanted to say that I’m…I’m sorry.” The words feel like thorns in his throat but he forces them out anyways. He knows he has to, Karlach had encouraged him to in all her usual enthusiasm and had filled him in on what he had missed while unconscious. His immediate reaction was to check up on you from a distance, but Karlach had pushed him towards your tent, giving him a thumbs up which pressured him into going in.

You keep silent, mind struggling to form a sentence as he pours everything out to you once more, carefully lowering his walls to let you in again.

“I know I said things that hurt you, and I should not have said any of it. You rescued me, even though I thought you would never come for me and I pushed you away instead of thanking you.” He pauses, taking a deep breath he doesn’t need. “You deserve better.”

“You’re the one who deserves better.”

Astarion blinks, sitting up straight as you shift, getting out of the bed roll.

“You’re the one who deserves better,” you repeat, unable to meet his ruby gaze. “I was the reason you were kidnapped in the first place, if I hadn’t snapped at you, shouted at you, driven you away, you would never have left the camp, the hunters would never have found you and —”

“It’s not your fault.” He places a finger on your lips, eyebrows furrowed.

“But it is!” You push his finger away. “I hurt you just as much, no, more than you words ever hurt me because I promised to never hurt you! Yet I did!”

“You didn’t mean to.”

“It doesn’t excuse anything! Stop taking everything just because you don’t want to lose this relationship!”

“But I don’t!” He yells back. “I don’t want to lose this! I don’t want to lose whatever we have!”

“I don’t want to lose you.” His voice cracks as he stumbles over the words that shut you up. “If…if you don’t want me anymore I will —”

“When did I ever say that. You’re my entire world, why would I not want you?” You cut him off. He raises an eyebrow at you, searching for hints of deception but all he sees is genuineness, a fierce love for him burning within you and above all, a deep yearning for him and nothing else.

You move closer to him, cautiously reaching out with a hand that he clasps in his cold undead ones and you can’t help but smile. This brought back memories — the first time you ever hugged him, the first time he ever felt a physical touch that wasn’t sex or abuse. He puts an uncertain arm around your waist, waiting for you to do something and you lean into his touch, putting your own arms around his waist, hand holding long forgotten in place of hugging him. He pulls you in, nuzzling you and lets out a small sigh of relief.

He didn’t lose you. You’re still here. You still want him.

As much as you are his light in the darkness, he is your guiding beacon. He is the reason you continue pushing on each and every day, and you want him to know that. Tilting your head up, you meet his lips with your own, a sweet gesture that never grows old and conveys everything in your heart. He kisses back, fingers tangling in your hair and revels in the moment, wishing it would never end but alas, you need to breathe.

“I love you.” It’s the first time you’ve said those words to him.

“I love you too.” It’s not the last time he’ll say those words back.

[bloodlust-1]

Are you still taking requests? I literally cannot control myself when it comes to angst so I was thinking of a fic where Tav gets kidnapped by Cazadors spawns and is getting tortured by him, so Astarion goes crazy with worry and anger trying to get them back

Like I said i am insatiable when it comes to angst

The dramaaaaa.... LET'S DO THISS SHITT. I do love me some angst too :')

Hope you enjoy @blades-are-for-skating-ya-dingus <3

. Shackles .

Astarion x fem Tav — angst

T/W: abuse, blood

Notes: I’m so proud of this one ahh. This makes me hate Cazador even more.

Tav's body trembled as the shackles dug into her wrists, her bare skin exposed to the cold, damp air of the dungeon. She had been captured by Cazador one night by his spawns. Tav never returned back to camp that night, and the only thing that was left for Astarion was a note he found on a spawn:

-------

"My Dear spawn, how dare you to run away from me. Know that there will be consequences for your actions, and your lover will not be spared from my wrath. You will regret ever crossing me, my child."

-------

Her wrists were bound by heavy shackles, chains attached to the wall, preventing her from moving more than a few inches. The sharp metal dug into her skin, causing her to wince in pain every time she struggled against them. Her body was covered in bruises, cuts, and burns, the result of Cazador's ruthless torture techniques.

Cazador stood in front of Tav, a wicked grin on his face. He held a whip in his hand, the same one he had used to lash Tav's back until it bled. She could barely lift her head to look at him, her body exhausted and broken.

"Pathetic," Cazador sneered, his eyes filled with malice. "You thought you could hide from me? A mere mortal challenging a vampire? How foolish."

Cazador stood in front of her, his face twisted into a sadistic grin. "You think your lover, Astarion, will save you from me? He will help me ascend and be nothing more than dirt on the floor. And soon, you will be too. Tell me where is the boy."

Tav's heart sank at the mention of Astarion's name. All Tav wanted was to trade with a merchant to gift Astarion a better dagger. But now, here she was, captured and tortured.

"Never," Tav spat, defiant even in the face of her tormentor.

Cazador's grin widened. "We'll see about that, my dear. We have ways of making you talk."

He signaled to his spawn, Petras, and he poked at Tav's skin with a hot metal rod. She cried out in pain, her body bruised and bloodied. But she refused to say any information.

"You will never have Astarion again," Tav gasped, her voice weak from the beatings.

Cazador's smile turned into a scowl, and he grabbed Tav's chin roughly, forcing her face to meet his. "You wretched thing."

Cazador motioned for Petras to stop as he approached Tav, snatching the hot iron rod from Petras’s hand. Tav's eyes widened in terror as she realized what he was about to do.

"Please, no," she begged, tears streaming down her face.

But Cazador didn't listen. He pressed the hot iron against Tav's skin, causing her to scream in agony. The smell of burning flesh filled the dungeon.

"I will make you suffer until you give me what I want," Cazador growled, enjoying every moment of Tav's pain.

Tav's body shook with sobs as the torture continued. She thought of Astarion, their love, and their plans for the future. She refused to let Cazador break her, even if it meant her death.

"I said no, you bastard!," Tav cried, her voice hoarse from screaming.

Cazador continued to torture her, and Tav's thoughts became consumed with memories of Astarion. The way he looked at her with love, the cold touch of his lips on hers.

"I love you, Astarion," she whispered, tears streaming down her face.

But as the darkness of the dungeon consumed her, Tav feared she'd never see Astarion again.

~

Astarion's heart raced as he crept through the dark and musty corridors of the dungeon. His mind clashed between anger and guilt. Astarion feared that Tav was somewhere within these walls, shackled and tortured by Cazador.

When Astarion reached Tav's cell, he caught sight of her. Tav's face was pale and bruised. She was shirtless and barely conscious.

But even in this state, Tav was still the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on.

His hands trembled as he quickly picked the lock, and with a loud click, the chains that bound Tav fell to the ground, and Astarion's heart swelled with relief and anger. He scooped her up in his arms, ignoring Tav's cries of pain from the bruises and cuts covering her body.

"Shh, my love. It's me," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "I've come to take you away from this place."

Tav's tear-stained face looked up at him, and her eyes widened in surprise. "Astarion? How did you find me?"

Astarion fixated his eyes on Tav's face, the sight of her hurt gaze ached his dead heart. "I will always find you, no matter where they try to hide you." He pulled the shirt off his back and covered Tav's bare chest.

Carefully, Astarion carried Tav out of the dungeon, making sure to avoid any spawns or traps along the way. It was especially hard when Tav winced to every movement.

Astarion stealth his way out of the palace and went back to camp. He felt anger gnawing at his chest. He should have been there to protect Tav, But he had failed, and now Tav had suffered because of his shortcomings.

When they got back to camp, their companions rushed to their side, relieved to see Tav alive. Shadowheart, Wyll, Gale, and Karlach swarmed around Astarion.

"Get out of the way! She needs to rest!" Astarion snapped in a fit of anger. His emotions were pouring out in the worst possible way, and whoever was in the way needed to move.

Astarion gently settled Tav onto his bed, frowning at the sight of her bruised and battered body. She winced in pain as he placed her down, but he quickly reassured her, "I'll take care of you."

He grabbed a small bucket of water and a cloth, carefully cleaning the dried blood and dirt from her skin. Tav winced again, tears streaming down her face as he touched her injuries.

Gods this is all my fault. Astarion gritted his teeth from the sting of remorse.

"It's going to be alright," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I promise, I won't let anyone hurt you like this again."

Cazador will pay for this.

Tav weakly reached out to wipe away the tears that had fallen from his eyes, a small smile tugged on her chipped lips. "Don't cry, Astarion. You're here now, and that's all that matters."

He couldn't help but chuckle at her stubbornness, even in her injured state. "Your wit amazes me, my dear."

Astarion continued to clean and tend to her wounds, his hands gentle and careful than anything he'd ever touched in the past 200 years. Tav winced and hissed in pain, but she never once pulled away. She simply gripped his hand tightly as he worked, her eyes shut tightly.

Tav winced as he tended to a particularly deep cut on her arm. "It hurts," she whispered, tears forming in her eyes.

"I know, my dear," Astarion's eyes narrowed at her pain. "But I promise, I'll make it better."

After what seemed like hours, Astarion finally finished and leaned back, a satisfied look on his face. "There, all done."

Tav slowly opened her eyes and looked down at her now clean and bandaged skin. "Thank you..." The burn marks would scar her skin forever. It was something Tav looked past for her own sake.

"You are strong," he continued, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "And I will do everything in my power to protect you and keep you safe from Cazador."

Tav reached up and cupped his cheek, she whispered. "I trust you.."

Astarion leaned down and pressed his lips against Tav's, pouring all of his emotions into the kiss. Tav pushed against his lips gently, while his hands held Tav's shoulders. When they pulled away Tav could see the desperation in his eyes and it was heartbreaking.

"Rest now, my dear. I'll be here when you wake up." And with that, Astarion stayed by Tav's side, watching over her as she drifted off to sleep.

Any thoughts? Comment 👇🏼 I love to engage!

[moonlightsolo]

eddie the bloody-handed

summary: your boyfriend, eddie, sacrifices himself in the upside down to keep you and dustin safe- but when you finally go back for him, something else has taken his place.

pairing: vampire!eddie x female reader

warnings: graphic depictions of blood, death, angst, mourning of a character, major spoilers for vol. 2, kinda villain!eddie at the end but with good morals

note: said i was gonna take a long break, but i couldn't help myself when this idea came up. also thinkin about a part 2???

all you feel is pain. pain as your heart wrings in your chest, as if it will burst at any moment. pain from your lungs not allowing you to take a full breath. pain as your bones ache with grief while you scream out for your dying boyfriend, watching him choke out his last breath.

eddie's body sits limp and heavy in your arms, erratic pleas tumbling from your lips. your hands cup his bloodied face as sobs roll out one after another, searching his still face for any sign of life.

“no, eddie! please! wake up!” your voice echoes in the alternate dimension, coughing hoarsely from the phlegm building in your throat. 

“we have to go. right now. nancy's plan didn't work." steve’s worried eyes come into view in front of you, wide and full of fear. 

"why didn't you just run?" you cry out to eddie, fists desperately grasping at his leather jacket.

harrington stands up after you ignore him, taking a step behind you. his arms swoop under your arms to pull you up to your feet unwillingly, “what?! no!” your voice shrieks in protest. your legs kicking as you fight against his efforts, “steve, please!” you suck in a wheezy breath, your chest shaking and bottom lip quivering. with a grunt, you press a kiss against eddie’s still warm forehead. 

before you’re overtaken by steve’s strength, you yank an arm away from his hold to run your fingers through eddie’s unruly hair you’ve grown to love, “i love you, my sweet eds.” your watery eyes blink out numerous tears above him. the liquid slides off your face and onto eddie’s cheeks, carving tracks through the blood and dirt dormant on his skin. your body goes slack, succumbing to the battle. 

“i’m so sorry.” his voice cracks, the thunder rumbles above you two as your feet drag against the pavement. steve sniffles as he helps you up the stairs of the munson’s trailer, towards the gate in the living room. steve's emotions are getting the best of him. he would never want to do this to one of his best friends, if it wasn't a life or death situation.

the rest of the group has already climbed through with a new rope they found. the discarded one sits beneath the gate, causing the memory of eddie slicing it to save you and dustin to flash in your mind. 

another hiccup tumbles from your lips. a wet sniffle honks from your nose in attempt to suck up the mucus leaking from your nostrils. 

steve aids in helping you climb, his hands sitting respectfully on your waist. “steve… i can’t leave him.” you whimper quietly under your breath, pausing your climbing to glance down.

“i know, honey. i know, just- get through this part and we’ll come back for him. it’s not safe for us to be down here right now.” his thumb rubs your sides in attempt to comfort you, urging you to keep moving. 

your head nods, taking a deep shuttering breath before continuing your climb. small puffs of strained breath fall past your lips until you’re flipped right side up, back hitting the mattress that’s laid out on the ground.

robin’s hand reaches out for you, helping you up to your feet to allow steve to fall through. the floor rumbles beneath your feet, making you second guess if you’re still in the upside down. 

the things around eddie’s trailer begin to tremble, glass clatters and the objects on the wall swing. your eyes dart around at the people around you, their face mimicking your panic-stricken one. 

“steve! hurry up!” nancy shouts at him through the portal, making him quicken in pace, “i’ll be right back!” you announce as you turn on your heel.

“no! y/n! shit- what is she doing? there’s an actual natural disaster happening right now!” robin rants, loud voice slightly cracking as she follows. your legs quickly carry you back to eddie’s room, but not without tumbling into the walls from the force of the ground shaking beneath you. 

the modular home whines and cracks around you as your body frantically pushes through his door. 

the smell of his familiar cologne, weed and tobacco instantly smacks you in the face. tears instantaneously fall down your face, you stumble up to his electric guitar sitting pretty on the wall. 

“come on! we need to go!” dustin screams at you and robin from the other room. the urgency makes you reach out for the instrument, slipping the strap over your head. 

the dresser falls forward, drawers clattering as they fall out onto the floor of his room. you lunge forward to catch it before it could hit the ground, robin runs up to your side to help you keep it steady. 

“i think we really, really need to go. like right now, right now!” her voice is strained with panic. 

“i can’t leave without some of his stuff.” you huff out, dropping to your knees to vigorously search through his pile of clothes on the floor. 

you find two of your favorite band tees before standing up swiftly, snatching his cologne that has fallen to the ground on the way up. robin stands back to let the wardrobe fall, stumbling backwards to clutch your upper arm. 

she starts to lead you down the hallway, but a fallen polaroid catches your eye. you reach down as you run out of the room, snatching the flimsy photo. your eyes glance over it, a teary smile coming to your face when you realized what it is. 

eddie is laying down in his bed with you, arm around your shoulders as you hide your face in his chest. he’s playfully sticking his tongue out at the camera, his hand on your shoulder in a rocker gesture. your poor boy, oh how you wish he would have just ran. 

“holy shit! holy shit!” robin screams, her hectic pace quickens even faster. her scared voice makes you follow her eyes to peer at the ceiling, seeing that the gate has spread down the hallway. 

“come. on! come on!” harrington waves you down from the front doorway, screaming at you both to hurry up. robin practically flies past steve, hopping past the steps instead of using them. 

your arm is tugged along with her, so you have no choice but to follow her movements. you slide into the middle seat of nancy’s car. eyes watching as the gate burns a hole right through the top of the beloved trailer. 

once steve hops into the passenger seat, wheeler screeches out of the grass, punching the gas as she speeds out of the trailer park. 

all three of you in the back turn around to watch the gate crack the home in half, spreading to the ground outside. your heart aches as all the memories you shared with eddie are destroyed- just like that. you sorrowfully turn back around, sinking in your seat as tears silently run down your warm cheeks. 

“everything… is just gone…” you whisper out, fingernails digging into your knees caps through your jeans. dustin tackles your side with a hug, holding onto you desperately as he cries against your shoulder.

he didn’t even have to talk for you to wrap your arms around the boy, the silence in the car is deafening as you comfort each other. 

the ride home is dreadful. the rest of the party was informed that max was taken to the hospital, and the town is completely destroyed from all the gates merging. 

the next few days are even worse. half of hawkins population has been relocated to the high school. where you were involuntarily volunteered to help out, since it’ll be ‘good for you’ to get out.

you’re busy slumming out peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for the people of hawkins, working in a machine-like routine. robin is occupied with vicki, and steve is somewhere folding clean donated clothes. 

how is this supposed to help? it’s making you feel worse. you’d rather be absentmindedly strumming chords on the guitar instead of-

your running thoughts pause when you notice a crowd forming around the large windows. 

the knife in your hand clatters to the table below you before you run past robin to push through the crowd. your heartbeat pounds against your ears, ignoring the clamor of the people you’re pushing out of the way. 

you come to a clearing, noticing steve staring out the window in the front. you reach out to grip his shoulder to pull yourself to him, stumbling forward out of the packed crowd. his hand instinctively grabs yours to bring you closer to him, holding onto you protectively. 

when you’re close enough, you finally realize why everyone has gathered. to other people, it seems like it’s snowing, but to you and your friends, the familiar upside down dust is floating freely in the air. 

“steve…” you breathe out, hand gripping his just as harshly, “what’s going on?”

he turns his head, giving you a look that makes fear travel down your spine, “i think.. it’s merging with our world. another gate must’ve opened.” 

the sound of another gate opening makes you perk up, mind cranking with millions of thoughts. steve realizes what just clicked in your mind, but he’s too slow to react. you’ve already pulled your hand away from him, and started pushing back through the crowd. 

you need to find this gate in hawkins, you need to find eddie. 

steve calls out your name repeatedly, not having the best luck weaving and bobbing through the crowds as he chases after you. 

your feet take off in a sprint, dodging numerous children and people as you make your way through the maze of corridors in the high school. the area is heavily guarded by military personnel; which means you need to find a way past them. 

you burst through the front doors of the school, trotting quickly down the steps. the door behind you bangs open, a panting steve emerging as he weakly screams your name. 

you stop in your tracks, turning around to look at him with a stern glare.

“steven, you can either you help me, or you can ignore what i’m doing and go back to folding clothes.” you breathe out heavily, giving him an ultimatum. 

he marches up to you, face twisted with frustration, “i don’t think you realize how dangerous it’s going to be to go back! i mean- seriously? there’s militia everywhere, they will shoot-!” 

“you can lecture me all you want, harrington, but you will not change my goddamn mind.” 

steve groans in annoyance, looking up at the darkened sky, “you obviously know i’m not going to let you do this by yourself, right?” he mutters, stressfully running his hand through his hair as he drops his head to stare at his feet. 

a small grin curls up on one side of your mouth, your hands rest proudly on your hips, “i seriously love you, steve. now let’s go.” you slap your hand into his to pull him to your car but he doesn’t budge. 

“we can’t do this alone.” 

steve corrals robin and dustin from inside the school, gives nancy a call, but she refuses to help anyone go back into that hell. (that’s her exact words)

dustin knows exactly where eleven’s hideout is, so steve drives there with the help of dustin’s directions. the car rolls up to a very old, almost destroyed cabin. 

the inter-dimensional dust seems to be thicker around this part, and there’s nobody to be found. “come on.” you usher, hopping out of the backseat to run towards the house. you knuckles rap against the wooden door, but to no avail. 

you hop down the steps, ignoring the rest of them to run around back. you notice a trail that leads through the forest, so you opt to follow it; even with steve’s fatherly protests. 

it seems like you’re going the right way since the dust is growing thicker, almost as if a gate is nearby. you come across a clearing, a grassy hill scattered with wildflowers. the scene behind it catches your eye, dark smoke billows into the sky from the cracked open earth. 

it resembles a scene out of a fantasy book, like lava is spewing from the depths of the planet. the group is standing farther down the hill, surrounding something on the ground. 

you run up to them, chest constricting with anxiety as you grow closer. there it is- the gate.

the people around you call your name in surprise from your arrival, but it falls upon deaf ears. every form of self-preservation is screaming at you to not jump through, but your heart aches for eddie; to find him and put his body to rest.

as you’re about to step through the gate, your body is held captive by someone gripping the back of your metallica t-shirt, “what do you think you’re doing?” 

your head spins around to the person holding you back, seeing hopper, alive and well. “oh my god!” you shriek, throwing yourself at the man who quickly hugs you back with a hearty laugh. 

“hey kid. how you doing?” his deep voice rumbles. this doesn’t seem real. 

the floodgates let loose, tears soaking into his shirt. “i’m terrible.” you sniffle, wiping your nose with your hand, “my boyfriend… he- he died in there.” you point back at the gate with your lip quivering. 

“i want to get him. bring him back to give him a proper burial. i just- i left him in there.” you sob, digging your face into his chest. 

“hey, hey. i don’t think going back there is the best idea right now. we need a plan.”

you pull away from him, eyebrows furrowed in frustration, “i do have a plan. i’ve been thinking about it for days. i know what i need to do.” you pull away from him, turning on your heel to stare down directly into the gate. 

it seems as if everything slows down around you. before you could decide if you want to jump into it, a tentacle from the gate whips out at your foot. the slimy extremity spirals up your leg to grip your body, pulling you harshly to the ground. 

a scream leaves your mouth as you’re tugged towards the mouth of it, “no!” you yelp, scratching at the ground, dirt building up under your nails. you wanted to make this decision yourself, not to be forcefully taken in.

flashes of your friends running after your helpless body are seen between your head being hit repeatedly against the ground. your body is lashed around by the violent force of the creature as you fight against its efforts. 

your strength is nothing compared to it, unable to keep yourself in your own world. the tentacle tightens it’s grip on your ankle as it pulls your body into the alternate dimension. 

the thing detaches from you, throwing your body into the air as you scream into the oblivion. gravity takes over and you’re sent hurling towards the ground. your side slams into the solid terrain, your lungs left unable to work. 

all the air is punched out of your body, instantly struggling to breathe as you army crawl away from the insistent tentacle. “augh- fuck.” you wheeze, unable to take a fully deep breath from the air being knocked out of you.

you roll onto your back, looking over at the gate that’s sealing up in the ground. the once colorful flowers around you seem to have molded and withered away, the sky is dark and menacing, lightning flashing red. 

your consciousness seems to fade in and out, head twirling dizzily. you blink in attempt to clear your fuzzy eyesight, lungs finally regaining some strength. 

your hand rests on your chest as you breathe in all the upside down grime. you close your eyes for a moment to try and relax, taking in deep and slow yet painful breaths. 

something above you blasts air in your face, making you gasp and whip your eyes open. the dark silhouette of a large bat-like creature in the sky is shown by the flashing lightning. 

adrenaline kicks in your nervous system, activating your fight or flight response. your legs scramble beneath you as the bat nose dives, and barrels down right towards you. 

“shit shit shit shit!” you screech when you notice it growing closer, hands coming up to hide your face. it’s cold grasp embraces your body, trapping your arms by your sides and lifting you up into the sky.

the freezing air whips through your hair, your eyes hesitantly squint open to look around you. red flashes in the clouds you’re flying through, making your body tremble with fear. even with the cold temperature of the sky, sweat pools on the back of your neck.

the monster soars through the air, it’s fur slightly tickling your nose. since you’re pressed into it’s chest, you didn’t dare to look up at its face. you’re not dead… yet, so you decide to glance at your attacker. 

it seems almost human like- it’s skin is soft, yet deathly pale, almost grey. it’s wearing a bloodied white shirt, it’s scarred sides in full view from the torn holes. you realize that it’s not fur, it’s curly hair that adorns it’s head. 

oh my god. 

the jawline, the hair, the ripped up hellfire club shirt… 

“eddie?” you scream out over the loud wind in your ears. instantly, tears spring to your eyes as you wiggle in his grasp to bring one of your hands out. his tight grasp doesn’t budge, not letting you move as he traps you against his chest. 

eddie drops beneath the clouds, making you squeal from the feeling in your abdomen. his arms tighten protectively around you before his wings widen, stopping the airflow to gently lower you both to the ground. 

once your feet touch the grass, you stumble backwards to fully look at him. it’s eddie, but he doesn’t look like your eddie. his skin is much paler, clothes torn where he was bitten by the demo-bats, wings folded fingertips black with long dark nails, and leather jacket scuffed and ripped from his protruding wings. 

“eds?” you call out his name again, stepping forward with your hand out. his head hangs, frizzy hair covering his face as he shakes and grips the roots at the top of his head.

“baby, please. look at me.” your voice whimpers out desperately, tears running down your cheeks. 

“stay away!” he raises his voice, making you stop in your tracks. his shoulders quiver as he silently cries into his hands, “i’m a monster. i don’t want you to see me like this. why did you come back?”

you take another careful step towards him, waiting for him to tell you no before you take another one, “my love. you’re not a monster.” you mutter with a breathy laugh. 

his head lifts up, looking at you with bright glossy red eyes instead of the dark brown ones you’ve grown so fond of. you stop to stare at him, looking over his slightly sunken cheeks. his perfect lips are still plump, and slightly pink. 

“but i am.” he talks, flashing his pearly fangs in his mouth. the sight makes your blood run cold, but you refuse to let him know that it terrifies you. 

“no, eds. you’re not.” you shake your head with a watery smile, reaching both your hands out for him. his bright eyes dart towards you, then to your hands then back down to his.

shakily, he lifts his arms so his hands were hovering above yours, fingertips grazing against each other’s. you slightly raise your hands, fingers wrapping around his slender wrists. the temperature of his skin is a great contrast to yours. it feels as if he’s been outside in the snow all day.

“i don’t wanna hurt you, sweetheart.” his voice is timid, quiet and scared. 

“you won’t. i know you won’t.” you let your hands travel up his familiar arms, feeling the muscles and once full veins under his skin. you let your hands travel to his waist, pulling yourself towards him to embrace his rigid body. 

at first, he’s tense when your body presses into his, but he soon softens against your touch. he nuzzles his nose into your hair, letting out a relieved shaky breath. “god, i missed you so much.” 

“eds, you died in my arms. i thought i was never going to see you again.” you mumble into his dirty shirt, voice muffled. 

“i did, but i woke up once you left. i turned into... whatever this is,” he motions to his body, “think i’m part demo-bat, or somethin’.” he chuckles, fluttering his wings behind him. 

“like kas the bloody-handed, from d and d.” 

“kas?” he tilts his head back to look at you with a sly smirk, “hearing you say that was so sexy.” 

“only learned from the best.” you bring your pointer finger up to poke his nose, making his face scrunch up. 

“can i kiss you or will you bite me?” 

“maybe i will… maybe i won’t.” he shrugs playfully, gripping your hips to pull you closer. his infamous smirk makes your stomach flutter with butterflies. 

you stand slightly on the tips of your toes, craning your neck up to peck a wary kiss against his cool lips. he chuckles against you, dipping down to catch his lips with yours again.  

the temperature sends a shock down your spine, goosebumps rising on the surface of your skin. his nails slowly drag up the back of your arm, making another shiver wrack through your body. 

the sharpness of his fangs press into your bottom lip as he deepens the kiss, wiggling his tongue past your lips to press against yours. 

eddie’s hands glide down your sides to rest on the swell of your ass, squeezing the plushy flesh there. his wings flap happily behind him, curling in around your bodies to shield you both from the surroundings. 

you pull back from the kiss, eyes fluttering open to look around, noticing the fleshy wings circled around you. “eds, you’re so beautiful.” you stare up into his crimson irises, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. 

the boy nuzzles his cheek into your palm like a puppy, happy to be here with you in this moment. touching you, feeling your warm skin under his icy fingertips. 

the crunch of footsteps behind you makes him tug you against his chest possessively, wings tightening around your body to hide you as he whips around towards the sound. 

eddie lets out a loud hiss, showing his fangs at the aggressors in front of him. his eyes are intimidating, baring his teeth as he tries to ward off the intruders. 

“hey, hey, hey!” someone attempts to calm him down, their voice deep and muffled by something. “we don't want to hurt you. we’re looking for someone! a girl. she came in here, did you see her?” 

his eyes flicker between the people, muscles softening against you. his wings slowly unravel, letting you in view. when you turn on your heel, you don’t exactly recognize them at first. 

two men are standing in front of you, clothed in protective gear, flashlights and weapons in hand and bandanas over their nose and mouth. “steve? hopper?” you breathe out, squinting to get a better look. 

“hey, yeah- it’s us.” steve’s eyes flicker to eddie, looking fearful of the winged man. “harrington?” eddie calls out with a shocked tone, hands on his hips as he leans forward to stare at him for a moment.

“should’ve known by the hair.” he gestures with a twirl on top of his own head, “sorry, buddy.” he chuckles, “didn’t mean to scare ya.” 

“what happened?” harrington asks, eyes raking over munson’s silhouette with a frightened look. 

“long story short… those uh bats? turned me into a vampire, kind of thing.” he nods his head once he thinks he explained it good enough, pursing his lips awkwardly. 

“y/n. we have to go. you can’t stay here, come on.” hopper waves his hand as he moves toward you. 

your eyebrows furrow, taking a step towards eddie. “i’m not leaving him. i just got him back.” you wrap your arms around his side. 

eddie pulls you in protectively as hopper sighs and takes another slow step towards you both, “i don’t want to fight with you, let’s just go. it’s not safe.” 

“excuse me. i don’t know who you are, but she says she doesn’t want to go, and frankly, i don’t want her to either.” eddie grows more and more protective by the moment, upper lip slightly twitching as he yearns to snarl. 

the man completely disregards eddie, “did you not hear me correctly? it’s. not. safe. you can’t be breathing in all this shit for a long period of time.” hopper grows impatient, his broad shoulders huffing. 

steve is behind him, eyes darting nervously between everyone as he stays quiet. “you gonna help me, or what, kid?” hopper shouts back at steve who clears his throat and steps forward. 

“yeah, uh. you should probably listen to him.” 

“or what?” you snap back, chest rising and falling quicker as anger brews deeply inside of you. 

“or i’m going to drag your ass out of here.” jim states, obviously loosing his cool. 

“over my dead body.” eddie steps forward, almost chest to chest with the taller man. his fangs slightly show as he finally snarls at him. 

hopper let’s out a chuckle, but not one that’s sounds like you just told him a joke. “huh, okay.” his hand rests on the weapon in the holster of his waist. 

“eddie. get us out of here.” you whisper up to your boyfriend, in fear for both of your safety. “hold on tight.” his arms wrap around your waist as he launches himself from the ground and into the air. 

“hey?! hey!” hopper and steve yell at you both, watching from the ground as eddie disappears into the clouds. 

your body shivers from the below freezing temperatures of the high altitude, gripping his body for some sort of solace. 

“hold on, baby. tryna find your house.” he dips beneath the clouds, eyes looking over the area until he finds your home. he drops to the ground, leading you up to your doorstep. 

eddie pushes open the front door, letting you walk inside first before following behind. he locks the door behind you both, letting you look around at your home. 

“it’s like mine… but different.” you breathe out, walking up the steps to find your room. eddie folds his wings behind his back as he follows you up the staircase. 

the door to your bedroom is already cracked open, letting you slip inside easily. the bed is messy and thankfully not covered in vines, “i’ve been staying here. since mine got destroyed by the giant gate.” he clears his throat awkwardly, watching you as you peer at all your familiar things. 

“can you sleep?” you ask, turning to look at him leaning against the doorway. 

“nope, i tried.” he huffs, rolling his eyes, “doesn’t mean i can’t cuddle with you while you do.” his eyes perk up, awaiting for your answer with a little smile. 

“of course, darling. you can always cuddle me.” you plop on the bed, patting the empty space beside you. 

eddie sulks up to you, sinking into the soft mattress. “you know, i tried to leave through a gate and it burned me. i mean, i healed quickly, but it hurt like a mother-fucker.” 

your worried eyes flash to him, “wait- you can’t leave?”

he shrugs in response, gulping when he notices your emotions growing stronger, “don’t worry ‘bout it right now, babe. we’ll get henderson down here and that nerd will figure something out.” he wraps an arm around your shoulders, guiding you down into the bed. 

“but for now, get some rest, okay? i can tell you’re tired.” he tucks you in under the blankets along with himself beside you. 

he stares down into your eyes as he slightly hovers above you, “everything will be okay.” he pecks your lips with a reassuring smile. 

“you’re right, we’ll figure something out.” you give him one last kiss before succumbing into his side, nuzzling against him to get comfortable enough to be able to fall asleep. 

one of his wings sneaks underneath you, wrapping around the side of your body like a canopy. he absentmindedly presses soft kisses to your face, enjoying watching you sleep.

“i love you.” he whispers to your sleeping self, before he begins to press kisses down to your jaw, making his way to your neck. 

eddie let’s his cold tongue poke over your jugular vein, feeling the heartbeat pumping blood through your body. his mouth salivates at the feeling, knowing you’ll be so tasty. you’re his girl, everything about you is tasty. 

he’s careful not to wake you up while he drags his fangs across your soft skin. every bone in his body aches to feed, to sink his teeth into you.

the animalistic urges take over, eyes tearing up from being unable to control himself. a hoarse hiss emits from his mouth, making you jolt awake. he presses his nose into your skin as you wake up, “eddie?” your pretty voice whispers out to him, pushing against his chest but he doesn’t budge. 

he trembles in your arms, lips opening to mouth at your skin, “eddie, you’re scaring me, baby. get off.” you whimper, pushing more aggressively against him. 

“i’m so sorry. i just- i can’t be without you... please forgive me. i love you.” he weeps softly in your ear. 

his words makes you go still, eyes going wide when you realize his fangs are pressing into your skin. “eddie!” you yelp once the pain grows hot on your neck, pushing your hands roughly at his chest. 

a cry tumbles past your lips, his wings curl around you to hold you steady. his strength is no match against you as he slurps at your delicious blood. 

the thick warm liquid hits his tongue, an almost orgasmic moan gurgles out against your neck, “eddie, please!“ your cries grow softer as more blood is drained from you. 

the hits against his chest slowly fade to nothing as you go limp in his arms. he pulls back instinctively with a gasp, wiping his wet mouth on the back of his hand. 

he cups your face once he realizes what he’s done, “i’m so sorry, baby. i’m so sorry.” he wails above you, wiping at the seeping blood on your neck with his hand. his thumbs swipe under your eyes to dry up your tears.

“you’ll wake up soon, sweetheart. everything will be okay.” 

-

tags: @authorlovers @powerfultenderness

[luveline]

Could we please get vampire Sirius? Like maybe he originally lured reader in to drink from her but was just totally enamoured by her because she isn’t scared of him? Love you xx

love you!!

“Do you often accompany strange men to cemeteries?”

You pick a little piece of lint from your sleeve and move on through the gravestones, “Only ones in need. Padfoot! Come here, boy.”

Sirius feels bad for lying to you about his dog that he doesn’t have, but he’s hungry. It’s like blaming a cat for killing a mouse. Nature is nature is nature, and you’re pretty enough to make feeding from you a thrill and a half. He can’t believe you’d been this potent a fool as to believe his lie in the first place — the moon is heavy as a silver medallion in the sky, light like silk pouring over the cemetery, but it is still a cemetery, and you are still alone with him, a strange man you barely know. 

“You should call him more, he’ll recognise your voice,” you suggest, turning to him with a very nice smile, as smiles go. This is the part where he jumps on you and holds you down. But you’re smiling, not a hint of suspicion about you. “You really don’t know what breed he is?”

“He looks like a mixture of every dog on earth.”

“A creature, then. Nice.” You wait for him to catch up with you before you point to a darkened area of the cemetery. Maroon pitch stains the floor, evidence of past misdemeanours. “Ooh, gross. That looks like blood. How many people do you think get murdered in places like this?”

“Definitely a few.”

“Is there even really a dog?” you ask. 

Sirius takes your hand into his. Your hands are almost as cold as he is, your fingers stiff with frigidity. He doesn’t bother trying to warm them, impossible, but he does attempt a seduction of sorts. He likes when his victims are scared; it gets the blood pumping quickly, and it tastes different. Not sweeter or anything so fanciful, but different. You aren’t easily scared, it seems, so he brings your hand to his lips instead for a kiss pressed against delicate knuckles. 

“Why wouldn’t there be a dog?” he asks. 

“There are other ways to get someone alone, you know?”

“Like what?”

“Like flirting,” you say, your shoulders relaxing as he continues his touching, his fingers dancing up the length of your arm and netting behind your shoulder to pull you in. 

“There’s a dog,” he lies, he promises, staring into the innocent pools of your eyes as hunger burns with the ferocity of tears in his throat. “Why? You thought I wanted to be alone with you?”

He leans in, forcing you to close your eyes as he closes his. “You don't?” you ask. 

His gums sting as the razor tip of his fangs slide over his canines, sharp and thing. There’s no room for words now, only action. He kisses you softly, because if he’s going to kill you he thinks he can manage a kinder goodbye, your glossy lips parting at the pressure of his wading. He opens his mouth and yours opens with it, a gasp rushing between you as you feel the sharpness of his fangs and pull away. 

“Ow,” you say, frowning, “you vampires are all the same.”

“We— what?”

“You have no sense of sweetness about you. If you kissed me nicely at first I wouldn’t mind letting you feed on me." You scowl, pressing your pinky to your bloody lip, dissatisfied. 

"You want me to kiss you nicely?" Sirius asks. 

"I thought so, yes." You turn away from him. "Not very much anymore." 

For some reason, the idea that he could overpower you flees his mind. "Now, wait a minute, darling. I'll kiss you very nicely." 

"Sure you will. My lip is bleeding, I know exactly what you're like." 

"Nuh-uh." Something about your lack of fear —he's shocked, but it's hot. Really, really attractive. "Sweetheart, I've been kissing people for longer than you've been alive." 

"Ew." You giggle at him, your reluctance fading. "Okay, fine. But no biting, okay? You can bite me afterwards." 

Sirius grins and pulls you forward, barely caring about the implication of afterwards as you melt into the circle of his arms and kiss him with an ardency he hasn't felt for a few decades, at least. You shiver at his cold hand where it disappears under your shirt, but you smile into his mouth rather than shriek. (He's in love, probably.) 

[pursuitseternal]

“The Seventh Day:” filled with self indulgent A!A behavior (Astarbation) in “Antics of the Newly Ascended”

Ascended Astarion x F!Reader | E | 1.9K of Astarion self-love

🎨 by @marimosalad full nsfw on X 🍆💦

Summary: Left behind, Astarion occupies his Ascended self first with some uncharacteristically (selfishly-motivated) selflessness, followed by some self-served reward in anticipation for your return home.

CW: Male masturbation (Astarbation?), panty sniffer/theif, he’s trying to be a helpful (selfishly), self-indulgent Astarion, Reflection Appreciation™️, he would be such a messy partner (in so many ways)

Previous Ch | ao3 link | Masterlist

The Seventh Day…

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

“Oh… darling, I’m hurt. I thought we had something special…”

“You always say that, and you’re always hurt…” you fold your arms and tilt your chin up at him.

“Am not,” Astarion fires back, petulant like a child, until he realizes everyone is watching your exchange. He straightens his spine and picks the pretend lint off the cuff of his sleeve. “You go right along… you’re the leader after all, and if you think you can finish your business without the Vampire Ascendant in your ranks, then go, have fun…”

You level that glare at him that lets him know you see right past his facade to the bullshit underneath.

“No, really,” he purrs, “you go, I’ll just stay here while… you do all the hard work.” He gives you that arrogant smirk and tilt of his head, that makes you war inside whether you want to slap him silly or fuck him senseless. He can see it… in your thoughts, in the way your heart pounds slow and harder as his eyes look down your armored figure. “I’ll just stay here, tend the home fires and find little ways to comfort myself over your absence, darling.”

He flashes his fanged smirk at you, your nostrils flaring wide with irritation and lust. “Don’t make a mess,” you taunt. “Enjoy your alone time.” With that you spin on your heel and your chosen three follow.

Wyll in particular laughs loudest. “Don’t worry, once he finds a mirror, he’ll be entertained for hours, I’m sure.”

The group chortles as they shut the door to their rooms in the Elfsong, but not before you throw one more look over your shoulder at your lover. He’s just smirking, irritated and conflated despite his wounded pride, making a show for you in that one moment of unbuckling his armor to drop it at his feet.

You shake your head and smile, all the irritation you have melted into love as you blow him a kiss. Then you shut that door.

The instant the door is shut, Astarion grimaces and throws the rest of his armor to the ground in a huff. Petulant? Yes, but also hurt. He looks around the empty suite of rooms, collecting his armor, he decides to actually put it away properly for once back in his rooms. Your rooms. Besides, he has no interest in watching Scratch nap by the fireplace, or risk any of the other ‘strays’ who have joined along the way come up and bother him.

With a discontented sigh, Astarion slinks his way into your rooms alone. That open chest for his armor is so close inside the door, but he sets it down on the floor. See how she likes that… he smirks, imagining your usual comments made under your breath about his messiness as you insist on tidying up. You’ll have to step over it when you come back exhausted and bloodied.

A slight pang of guilt tweaks his gut, his eyes settle on it again, that pile of his armor… the stack of messy clothes—yours and his— discarded hurriedly last night before your fucked… A slight disgruntled smile crosses his face. Maybe… just this once…. He could entertain himself in a different way.

He starts putting the armor in the trunk piece by piece, and with each one he starts to think about how much you will smile as you see your rooms.

Another piece in the trunk… he can almost feel your blush color your cheeks at his thoughtfulness. Your gratitude will be palpable… and you will want to shower him with affection… willingness… Astarion sighs to think about how you will positively reek of sweat and blood and arousal when you see what he’s done for you, his darling.

He closes the lid of the storage chest with an eager groan, that ache in his groin blooming slightly just at the thought of what will come once you’re home. You’ll positively worship at his feet for taking such good care of you…

That ache burgeons into a full erection at the image he’s conjured in his mind. With one final grunt, he picks up the pile of discarded clothing from last night, setting it properly in the basket, one rumpled thing of fabric at a time in the corner to be laundered later. One hand adjusts his erection, the other holds the last piece of fabric from the floor. Your undergarments.

He pauses, catching your scent in the air just as he wraps his hand around himself…

… he’s just trying to fix that hardness… he tells himself. But he can’t help but give that cock in his grasp a little rub.

He hisses, trying to catch his breath, but his nose only fills with your scent stronger the longer he holds your small clothes in his grip.

“Fuck it,” he growls to himself, unceremoniously sitting himself on the edge of the bed, surrounded by a tidy room. Surely, he deserves his own reward. And your own laziness last night to dispose of your underwear properly has just gifted him with a great incentive. That soft fabric, inundated with your musk, makes his mouth water. He just… has to…

He presses it to his nose, his cock freed from the top of his leathers as he slowly starts to caress it. It feels so good in his hand: the perfect length, the flawless width, the impressive hardness he always gets that makes every vein rise to the surface like marble. The masterpiece of a body that he is, he smirks to himself.

Another deep whiff of that delicious scent, he looks to the side, that large mirror so perfectly placed across from the bed, his idea. His eyes flit between watching his own cock pulse in his fist, staring at the perfection is his own reflection, and closing his eyes to take another deep lung-full of your scent.

Intoxicating, the beat of his own warm hand matches that pulse of his heart, a pounding so insistent in those veins. So steady and growing more pronounced even as he still works himself into bliss. Astarion gives a contented sigh, his thumb catching over that sweet, weeping slit to wet his cock head with early cum.

Indulgent, the way the faded ghost of your musk compliments his own as it grows with every leaking stroke he makes over his own shaft. No wonder you two are so destined for greatness, so perfect together… your bodies made for one another on some primal level, right down to your scents.

A few breaths catch in his throat, the corner of his eye now fixed on that mirror. He pauses to pull his shirt up higher, his leathers down lower, wanting to see more of himself, a body that has ruined so many… Small wonder, he laughs a bit darkly, a bit proudly. The edges of his abdominals protrude, just right, that deep v of his muscles drawing the eye inexorably to that now-glistening cock. Even his balls, so smooth and round and tight now as he feels the pleasure building deep in his core.

For once, now, this body is his to savor, to command and pleasure.

“Ahh…” the thought of reclaiming himself makes his cock leap almost out of his own hand. “Delicious,” he groans to no one but himself. Leaning back, he lets his hips buck into his hand a bit, just for a little extra show… a little more stimulation as his mouth starts to hang slack. He lets that fabric treasure of your underwear slip off his face, just a bit, so he can admire the way his own fangs glint in the sunlight.

Now, those weapons behind his lips, those fangs, those are something just for him, a decadence no one gets to enjoy but you… and himself now of course. With a groan, he longs to sink them into flesh, to feel that first burst of blood as it breaks through skin to coat his hungry tongue. And in his carelessness, he finds it, nipping his own lip to taste his own ascendant blood.

Rich… full… powerful… familiar… he groans. Incredible that you get to drink from him, what a treat for his consort and for himself. The thought of you suckling from his own neck, the play of your breath on his skin as you feed, shivers run down the base of his spine, making his muscles clench and his cock buck harder into his hand.

You’ll be so touched when you see what he’s done for you, his little act of humility to gain your immense gratitude… fuck… it’ll be worth it. The back breaking labor he’s done to please you and make you smile and see his love for you still, even with all he’s become.

Your eyes will sparkle, your lips will arch in that come-hither smile you give him… you won’t be able to resist letting him take you right then and there, however he wants…

His eyes flash to the mirror, the paint of blush on his cheeks and tips of his ears…. It makes his fist grip tighter, his hand beat faster to chase that pressure that needs release. The breath catches in his lungs, his teeth gritting as he feels his balls tighten and cock thicken as he strokes faster and faster…

Another glance at his beloved reflection— that slow seep of pearly cum leaking from his cock… perfection, seduction incarnate, he smirks to himself as he arches and his head cranes backwards. Grunting, sighing, he licks his lips as that pressure in his balls bursts at last, a few more erratic bucks into his fist, as he forces his eyes open to watch.

He juts his hips out forward, almost off the edge of the bed, angled just right to watch his cum explode out gloriously. The reflection, the pulsing he feels, the warmth that drips on his hand…

Head hanging down, tongue licking his lips, he watches as his cock twitches a few more times, that release overwhelming him as he huffs with open mouth. Drips of his cum spatter here and there on the floorboards, the few offending signs of…

The door swings open, you stand panting in its frame, a bit bloodied but none of it your own. Your sharp eyes take in the scene… your love panting, cock in hand, rosy post-coital cheeks flaring a hot pink as you catch him in his indulgence. And all you can do is smirk, knowing you have the upper hand on him, shaking your head as he starts to sputter excuses.

Then you notice what he holds in his other hand, your discarded undergarments from last night. Now your cheeks flame so hot, you’re pretty sure even your undead pale skin is blushing. “What…” but you swallow the question. Why ask it… you know full well what he was doing with your intimates. “I’ll skip the question and just point out that I left you alone for an hour… and you’ve made…” you smirk wickedly as you cross to kneel before him, “… such a mess.”

“Actually, darling, you’ve failed to see that I cleane—”

But before he can get whiny and defensive, you silence him, wrapping your mouth around his still, weeping cock. You moan around his length, not giving it lots of force, just a lazy bob of your head, a slow lick of your tongue. A few swirls of your lips laps all the extra cum from his velvety skin. Then you pull off of him, grinning with all your own self-righteous taunting. “That’s… how you clean, my lord.”

[avocado-writing]

I loved your Pregnancy headcannons for the bg3 boys. I was wondering if you could maybe do more and possibly about weird Pregnancy Cravings. I'd think it be funny to have Tav (durge/vampire/or not) just suddenly have this strong craving to drink blood. Or maybe they came across something during their adventures that was just weird and now Tav craves that exact thing.

this made me think about weird pregnancy cravings for each of the bg3 men and how they’d react to you, so here we go. rated M. original

Wyll

You have normal cravings, thank the gods. Well, as “normal” as they can get.

Rich and bizarre foods. Filet mignon and sorbet, that sort of thing.

Maybe something a bit spicier if he’s been turned devilish by Mizora, but honestly nothing that counts as strange.

Wyll is a godsend. If you ever mention you have a craving then he goes and gets it for you, even if it’s late at night and you’re both tucked up in bed.

He watches you eat and gets you to give him a little food review! He listens and nods along; it’s playful and sweet.

Constantly whispering to your belly, “you have very odd taste little one… I hope you take more after me and have a normal palate…”

You laugh and shove him playfully, he is enamoured.

Astarion

It’s not exactly blood that you crave… but a raw steak looks super good right now.

He watches you eat rarer and rarer meat until it’s practically bloody off the bone. Pursed lips, looking at you from over the rim of his wineglass.

“Darling; are you sure that’s… normal?”

You gesture to him wildly with a fork. His eyes go wide, you don’t stop eating.

“You’re the one who fucked a dhampling into me, Astarion! I don’t know what’s normal! This is entirely new territory!”

He apologises and keeps the raw meat coming, taking very good care of you indeed. Even after you give birth, you never go back to anything above medium-rare.

Gale

When you’re pregnant with Gale’s baby, he comes home to find you with necklaces in your mouth. Magic ones.

At first it’s just the original talisman that you wore about your neck anyway, something with a charge of Cure Wounds in it, and you’d just end up with it on your tongue without thinking.

Soon it gets too much. You look at someone’s Boots of Brilliance and start salivating.

“This is your fault, Dekarios…” you mutter after he gently pulls a magic glove from your mouth like you’re a cat caught eating something it shouldn’t.

He apologises because, yes, clearly the netherese orb continues to have an effect.

Starts cooking for you more and channels the weave into the food he makes for you, so that you can satisfy your cravings without risking accidentally choking on clothing.

Mostly works… but still sees you eyeing his robes hungrily sometimes. Though actually you may just be checking out his arse.

Halsin

The need for honey has never been more compelling.

Oh, how you long for it. Directly from the source, thick comb to dance across your lips.

Halsin finds you with your hand in a beehive one day, a ward around yourself to stop any stings. He realises ah, he may have had more to do with your current state than just the act of conception…

Does his best to source you as much honey as he can and as safely as possible. You pour it onto him at night and lick it off, revelling in the taste of it just as much as the taste of him.

You long for salmon, too, if you can. He finds you trying to catch them in the river with your bare hands. It’s so sweet he can only stop and watch for a while before you roar - literally roar - for him to come and help you.

When the baby is born with little furry bear ears and a tail, the two of you think about that… wildshape night.

[tojisun]

dunno where this came from bc i honestly just wanted a short ramble and not smthn long but here we are :'D this is an extension from my rambling yesterday about simon x reader but it's a dowry of blood au (brides of dracula retelling). i havent finished the book yet tbh but if ur planning on reading it, i do just wanna give a warning that it's dark and prose-heavy

cw: death/massacre; blood drinking; vampire-turning and stuff; inaccurate references to dracula lore

the village is gone. burnt. fire crackles amidst the broken hymns of the dead—they don't sing, not anymore of course, but their losses are catastrophic. you never realized how the apocalypse could be so loud.

you stand at the centre of the chaos, bloodied. bruised. ruined. the lone survivor.

the only one who was lucky enough to be saved.

brought out from the pyre, you were dragged into the shadowed corners and hidden from the pillagers who slaughtered everyone you loved and everyone you knew. you shook in your grief, screams erupting from the base of your throat, but all were silenced by an ice-cold palm over your mouth.

"shh, little one," he said. the first of his words; the first of his kindness. "you must be quiet."

your fury sputtered into anguish, the loss descending to you like the first drop of snow. tears spring from your strained eyes, staining even his hand; you did not know how to compress the bloating agony that was pressing into your lungs. your only comfort was that he seemed to favour you enough to keep you safe, even if just for a moment. 

rain had fallen by then—it seemed like it knew that tragedy had struck this little place. it extinguished enough of the fire, washing away the smell of ashes and leaving only the pungence of iron. blood.

with it, your adrenaline wore off, and you began to feel the extent of your pain. of course, you were not unscathed, but you didn’t expect your body to be so brittle. 

you fell, tumbling into the muddy ground and right before his feet. you croaked in pain, lungs constricting. it was becoming a lot more difficult to breathe, to speak. you wondered why death came to you slowly.

he knelt down by your side, cold hand brushing away at your dirty hair. he was speaking to you softly, words passing through his lips in soft lilts. you struggled to hear him, your ears ringing, numb, as your mind pulsed in your skull.

you groaned, begging him to stop. to go away. you had nothing to pay him back with, nothing to entertain him, so you told him just as much. you told him to let you die in silence because how else could he save you?

“that is troubling,” was all he said, his words were rumbled from the depths of his chest like he hadn't used his voice in eons. 

you peeled your eyes open, wondering what it must be that he was after, then you finally saw what he was—pale skin gleaming underneath the moonlight with eyes dark like wine. he was not a human. he couldn’t have been one.

your mother told you tales of the wicked. of those cursed and abandoned by the almighty father—she told you of their beauty, of their wealth, of their hunger.

(they do not know how to love, she said as she tucked you underneath your sheets. they only know how to deceive.)

your body locked, heart congested with fear—your body knew then, didn’t it? that this being that held you close was far more terrifying than the invaders. that your body survived the fire, the greed of humanity, only to be devoured by the devil.

“please,” you whimpered, the will to live burning inside you once again. you didn’t care about the pillagers, you didn’t want their mercy, but this being. this creature of the dark, oh how you craved his clemency.

“please, save me.”

“i cannot save you,” he said. 

his hand fell to your throat, grasping it gently, almost reverently. he swiped his thumb along the expanse of your skin to feel the way you swallowed. 

“but i can help.”

you tried to reply, to beg once more, but the words could not be sounded out, your throat having been too ruined for any prayer. you shook with your desperation, turning your eyes to him to express your ragged hope. you prayed that he may see your plea. you prayed that he may bless you with his curse.

he smiled, fangs glinting before your eyes. then, he murmured, “of course.”

(mama? how do you know when your prayers are answered?

well, sometimes it starts off painful.

painful?

yes, little star. but then, it becomes euphoric. freeing. good suffering.)

his teeth tore into your skin, ripping apart the muscles as it hunted for the blood. you screamed, throat scratching at the intensity of your pain; it was unbearable, burning unlike that of fire, scalding as it slithered down your very being. something was happening then. something unholy. 

you were being remade. reshaped. taken apart one bloodied fragment at a time.

you felt like you were at the precipice of death, so close to the edge and into eternal damnation, but he would not let you. chained to his hunger, your body writhed underneath the extent of his power; burning. burning. burning.

he was your new pyre. 

he was hell.

you begged for anything to subdue the pain; for a touch kinder, warmer; for the ceasing of it all. 

and it did.

his lips left the sensitive patch of your neck, pulling away with a hummed smile as though it were ambrosia he was sucking out of you. you stared at his lips, stained with your blood, and, within a fraction of a heartbeat, unrelenting hunger coursed through you.

you yowled, your mind heavy and your body sore. you felt lost; you felt like you were drained and left as nothing but a shell of what you once were.

“good. that’s good,” he crooned, his eyes wrinkled in his joy. “this hunger is proof of your new life.”

he brought his wrist to his lips and bit into his own skin. the first puncture oozed out with blood; you watched it pool, beading, before it trickled down the length of his arm. your throat constricted, tongue heavy all of a sudden in your mouth.

a taste. you craved for a taste.

he smiled as he pressed his wrist to your lips. “go on,” he murmured. “drink.”

you were delirious, or you must be, for you to have listened to him—your weak hands grasped at his wounded arm, pulling it closer to your maw.

you drank. 

that experience of having the first drop on your tongue was indescribable. it was like you have never eaten before; like you have never been fed. never been nourished.

it was like anything that sustained you before had been erased from your memories; you don’t remember the taste of your mother’s cooking anymore, nor the sweets that your grandmother brought home with her for you on occasions when her mistress remembered to reward her, nor the milk from your father’s cows. 

every sweet memory was washed away by the blood pouring down your throat; every gulp a sinister promise of what would be irreversible.

your body sang, skin mending itself, and bones healing underneath torn muscles. numbness filtered in—it had never felt like salvation before.

lost in your new paradise, you didn't notice as your saviour cupped your cheek once more. his touch was gentle. it was kind.

he leant forward and kissed your forehead—a reward for surviving.

“my name’s simon,” he whispered, nuzzling you. “and you will be my bride, won’t you, my dark miracle?”

your mouth left his arm, reluctant but necessary, because even before he said his name, you knew he was your master. you knew that in exchange for this new life he’s cursed you with, you were to be obedient to him no matter what. 

you nodded, breathless and ragged.

“yes, my lord.”

[astarionsilverbough]

One of Astarion’s favorite things also happens to be one of his least favorite things: as a high elf, he has the seemingly-hollow bones of his kind, and thus is already remarkably easy to lift off his feet.

For someone like Halsin, his weight is almost negligible. The elf can hoist Astarion up in the crook of one arm. It’s ridiculously annoying, considering the man is already obscenely adept at sweeping him off his feet every other way one could be.

And while this may be a boon when it comes to, oh, say, being fucked against the wall, it’s the ultimate curse in times such as -

“I’m sorry - what did you just say? You want him to do what?”

The words are dripping with poison.

“Astarion,” Gale says warningly; “ ‘tis not what I want, dear fellow,” Elminster says somberly, “but it is what our goddess has commanded. Gale, my boy, if there were any other way, I’m certain Mystra would -“

“She’s a goddess,” Astarion says venomously, “can she not create a way? Are any of the gods actually bloody useful? Why don’t you run back to your little divine kennel-master and tell her that we’d like to chat? Hm?”

He prowls forward. Elminster watches him like a particularly fascinating cat.

“Astarion,” Gale says again, a little more urgently this time, but before the mage can move to put himself between the elder wizard and his overprotective best friend (who would absolutely recoil at the term), a big shadow appears behind the vampire.

He’s hoisted up and off his feet as if he’s nothing more than a sack of feathers. A yelp leaps from his chest and Astarion’s legs flail for a moment before he’s thrown (!) over Halsin’s shoulder like some sort of damsel in bloody distress. The former Archdruid gives Elminster a nod of, of solidarity or some other such thing and then turns on his heel to ferry his charge away.

“Halsin! You fucking brute, you put me down!”

“We had an agreement, wolf,” Halsin says, utterly unfazed by Astarion’s squirming; his hold is firm, and normally Astarion might be thrilled by it but currently, he’s quite irked. “I get to pick you up only when you’re about to turn a situation into a battle you can’t win.”

Astarion scoffs, offended. “I could win!” he says incredulously. “I absolutely could! Look at how brittle and, and leathery that old sod is!”

Halsin chuckles. Chuckles!

“That better’ve been a cough, Halsin,” Astarion says dangerously.

Halsin pats his behind. “Of course, love. Of course it was.”

“Oh, you wretch.”

“You always speak so sweetly to me, little star.”

“You infuriate me.”

“And I’ll always be here to make sure you stay alive to be infuriated by me.”

Astarion huffs. Halsin shoulders into their tent and bows to gently toss him down onto their shared cot. The foolish butterflies in Astarion’s stomach are sent into a frenzy.

Alright. So perhaps even when it’s his least favorite thing, it’s still his favorite thing, being so feather-light that Halsin can pick him up and toss him about like it’s nothing.

He won’t ever be admitting it to Halsin, of course. He has appearances to keep up, after all.

(He doesn’t need to. Halsin still knows.)

[the-cypress-grove]

So, You Want To Write Vampires...

Here's a basic list of things to do/consider when approaching this creature.

Source Material

Go back to the origins. Almost every culture around the world has a story or myth containing cannibalism / blood drinking. You may want to base your origin story for vampires on one of these. This can also give you some ideas about what traits and abilities you might want to include that have been written out of modern fiction. It could help you add a unique twist.

2. Vampire Fiction

Vampires have been popping up in fiction for a very long time. Read The Vampyre by John Polidori (thought to be one of the first books written on vampires). Check out Carmilla by Sheridan Le Fanu (the lesbian vampire story that came out before Dracula). Speaking of, Dracula is a classic.

Look at modern fiction. Vampire Academy, Twilight, Vampire Diaries, True Blood, A Dowery of Blood, Crave. Read the good and the bad. Learn what qualities you like and which you will not use.

Make a list of things you like and things you don't.

3. Themes

Writing vampires brings a lot of themes surrounding mortality, immortality, morality, and at what point do we draw the line between what is human and what is other. These themes are integral to a vampire story whether you're writing a gothic horror, a paranormal romance, or a YA. There are a lot of links between cannibalism / blood drinking and love, vampires and LGBTQIA+ characters / coding.

4.Pick your traits

Vampires tend to be unique to the writer. The vampires in Twilight work differently to the vampires in The Vampire Diaries to the vampires in Dracula.

By this point you should have a list of possible traits and abilities you might want to give your vampires. My advice: tailor it to your genre. If you're writing a horror go with the traditional vampire abilities, give them the things that scare you. Think Nosferatu. If you're writing romance, then you might want to soften the traditional vampire traits in the way you find frequently in modern vampire media.

What you choose is up to you.

5. Origins

This is often overlooked in vampire stories but how did your vampires come into being? Who was the first vampire? Is this vampire still alive? How far back do vampires go as a species?

This could affect your vampires in terms of relationships with others of their kind, their powers, their strength.

This might not impact on your plot but, in terms of worldbuilding, if you intend to turn your book into a series then this could be very important going forward.

6. Society

Unless you're writing about the first ever vampire you're probably going to be writing about an established vampire population who will have their own laws, their own history, their own leadership, their own customs. This is an important piece of worldbuilding. It will affect your characters relationships, add conflict to the plot, create established enemies and can be used to raise the stakes.

7. Nocturnal Life

If you're following a traditional burn-in-the-sun vampire and they haven't found a way around this then you need to determine the night life of your setting. What is there for your vampires to do at night?

8. Feeding, Hunting, and Bloodlust

This will affect the level of gore in your story as a lot of the bloody parts in your story will take place through feeding and hunting. This will also determine your vampire population.

You need to decide how much your vampires need to feed, how often they need to do so, and what they can feed on. Do they drink animal blood? Is that possible? Do they drink human blood? Can they drink from blood bags? Do they need the blood fresh? If they need human blood do they need all of it?

The less a vampire feeds, the larger a population you can have in one area as it attracts less attention.

What happens when your vampires are hungry? What does their bloodlust look like? How does it affect a vampire? Is the amount of bloodlust a vampire experiences determined by how old the vampire is?

9. Threats

Unless your vampires are well and truly endless there will be ways to kill them and they will have enemies. Do these enemies take the shape of humans, of other vampires, or another species entirely? How can your vampires be killed? What other species are out there?

[saeyoungchoismaid]

hi it's not seb Saturday yet but I just wanted to throw this idea down. Sebastian chilling outside in the rain in his usual spot before seeing the farmer trudge out from the mines all bloodied and bruised ("I'm alright, really—") and it's like an immediate panic switch is flipped for sebastian because yoba above they look like a vampire's wet dream out here. They either patch farmer up at their house or at Sebastian's room lol (could be funny if the farmer ends up crashing on his bed/couch for the night, then leaves quite early but not without leaving seb a gift they got from the mines.... : ,) anyway that's it)

Awe my first Sebastian Saturday ask yay! Bro this request is so juicy HEHE. (Side note: sorry if this isn't that good or feels rushed. I haven't wrote anything in months but I'm honestly proud of myself for cranking 2k words out)

gif originally uploaded by @starwberrymark

Sebastian listens to the rock music that’s softly coming from the garage as he works. He lets out another low curse when more oil leaks out of his motorcycle and gets on him. He should be used to it. His clothes are covered in it anyway. He sighs and sets down his wrench, taking a seat on the ground by the front tire as he snatches up his rag and wipes his hands clean. Well, as best as he could. He then takes a swig from his water bottle, eyeing the clouds forming above him. Looks like a storm is blowing in. 

He keeps working for maybe another thirty minutes or so before he starts to feel the skies open up. The rain starts gentle, a few droplets starting to fall around him and onto his bike. “Welp…” he grumbles, grabbing his bike and starting to roll it back into the garage. Once secured, he shuts the radio off and closes the garage. 

He places his hands onto his hips, surveying the rain. A ghost of a smile starts to appear on his face as the rain starts to fall harder. He steps back out into it and begins to head towards the lake. He takes his pack of cigs out and smacks them against his hand, inhaling deeply. He’s always loved the smell of rain. 

Once at his usual spot, he takes a cigarette out and holds it up to his lips. He then slips his lighter out of his pocket and protects the end from the wind and rain to light it. Once the flame has caught the end of his cig, he inhales deeply, causing an orange hue to glow from the stick. 

He stands there for a while, just admiring how the water falls onto the lake or how the forest begins to smell when it’s wet. His eyes move towards the entrance of the mines when he thinks he sees movement. Through the rain, that’s starting to come down harder, he can’t really see much. He squints his eyes and moves his head around, trying to get a better look at what was going on. 

His eyes go wide when he sees you hobbling down the path. “(Y/n)!” he shouts in surprise, dropping his cig into a puddle and dashing over to you. Upon getting closer to you, he sees the bruises blooming on your skin and the cuts oozing blood. “Oh my god…” he mumbles, his heart breaking the longer he looks at you. 

“Hey, Sebastian,” you greet him as cheerily as you can muster, trying to slap a smile on your face. The pain makes it a little hard to do though. “Don’t worry about all this. I’m fine, really. Just got a bit scraped up in the mines. Those monsters are-”

“You’re not fine! You’re bleeding!” he shouts, gesturing to you. Before you can respond, he’s wrapping one of your arms around his shoulders for you to lean against him. “C’mon, I’ll help you to my house.” 

“Your house? But-”

“No but’s! You’re seriously hurt and Harvey’s clinic is already closed. You don’t seem too badly injured where we need to bother him, but I’m definitely not letting you go home without patching you up first,” Sebastian argues. You let out a sigh, realizing how serious he is about all of this. 

“Okay…fine…” you grunt out, not having the energy to fight him on it anymore. 

When you get to his place, no one seems to be home. At least, no one is in the front of the house. Sebastian leads you down the stairs and opens the door to his room. You’ve only been in his room a few times and never for long. Normally just when you have stuff for his commissions that he posts outside of Pierre’s store. He’s always very grateful, but he’s not much of a talker, so you just never end up staying around for too long. Besides, you have way too much shit going on in your day anyway. 

He sets you down onto the black couch that’s right by his door and you’re happy to be off of your feet. “I’ll go grab the first aid kit,” he says right before dashing up the stairs to go do that. You grunt and lean back against the couch, the cool air of the house making you shiver in your wet clothes. 

When he returns, he sees you shivering and bites his lip. “Here,” he says, setting down the first aid kit and going over to his dresser at the far end of the room. “Change into these,” he says, offering you a pair of pajamas. You shakily reach your hands out and take them, nodding your head as you stand up. 

You two stare at each other for a moment, unmoving. Sebastian’s eyes go wide as he realizes what you’re waiting for. “Oh! Sorry! Um, I’ll just, uh-” he stutters out as he turns around, completely red in the face. With his back to you, you slowly start stripping out of your clothes, a shy smile on your face. You do your best to avoid getting any blood or dirt on his clothes. Thankfully, the shirt and pants he gave you are both black. Maybe that’s why he gave you that specific pair. 

“Done,” you mumble before crashing back onto the dark cushions. He hesitates for a second before slowly turning around. 

He’s then back in front of you in a second, kneeling on the floor and moving your limbs around to survey your wounds. Once getting an eyeful of them all, he grabs the first aid kit and starts patching you up. You remain silent as he works, even when it hurts, you keep your lips sealed. 

After a while, a thought comes to you. “How are you so good at this?” you ask curiously. His eyes flicker up to yours before going back to your arm where he is currently rubbing in a cream on one of your darker bruises. 

“Let’s just say I…wasn’t exactly always the best-behaving kid,” he replies with a shrug, a smirk starting to form on his lips. 

“Oh?” you ask, looking down at him with your own smirk. Seeing your smirk, he huffs a laugh through his nose. 

“Nothing interesting, I assure you. I just…I’m not the biggest people person…” he says softly, moving onto a cut that he’s cleaned up to bandage it. 

“That’s okay,” you reassure, unsure of what else you could say in this moment. 

“Yeah, I guess. I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up, but I had Sammy, and later on Abigail. They introduced me to some more people, so I have more than enough friends to last me a lifetime now,” he replies with a light chuckle. You can’t help but smile at that. You’re happy to see that he’s, well, happy. 

“We’re friends, aren’t we?” you ask after a few moments of silence, hesitating in asking. After doing a few commissions for him and hanging out with him and the others at festivals, you two slowly started getting closer. You typically end up hanging out after a long day at work and you head over to Gus’ only to find that Sebastian and the others are playing pool. At first, you’d only watch, but after warming up to them, you started playing. 

The last time you played together, you two ended up staying until Gus closed the place down. You two were one of the few people left there, Sam and Abigail being long gone. Y’all ended up walking to the beach and sitting on the pier, sharing jokes and swapping stories. It was one of the best nights of your life. It’s definitely your favorite memory you’ve made since moving to Pelican Town. 

“Yeah…of course we are…” he replies softly, almost sounding hesitant and not looking into your eyes. 

“Good. I’m glad,” you say softly, giving him a sweet smile. He finally looks up at you and gives you a small smile in return. 

He’s then clearing his throat and standing up. “Well, I’m all done,” he says, wiping his hands onto his damp jeans. He glances at his clock and grunts. “It’s pretty late and sounds like it’s still raining. So, if you want to stay…you can…” He starts off confidently but ends on a quiet, unsure note. 

Heat rises to your face at that. “Oh, um, sure. Thank you…” you whisper, looking down at your hands. 

“Don’t mention it. You can, uh, take the bed, if you want. I’ll take the couch,” he offers. He then walks over to his closet and opens it up, revealing extra pillows and blankets at the top of the closet. 

“What? No, no! That’s okay! I’ll take the couch. I don’t want to inco-”

“I won’t take no for an answer,” he interrupts, pulling some blankets free from their tangled mess in his closet. You sigh and nod your head even though he’s not looking at you. 

“Alright, fine,” you say as you stand up, limping over to the bed. You sit there and watch him make the couch comfy for himself. 

As he moves around his room and goes to the bathroom to get ready for bed, you end up lying down at some point. You don’t remember falling asleep, but you do vaguely remember feeling something brush against your forehead and what sounded like someone wishing you a good night. 

When you wake up, you feel well-rested and ready to take on the day. You sit up and rub the leftover sleep from your eyes and then stretch. You wince when the bruises on your ribs ache, reminding you of what happened yesterday. You turn towards the time and find it’s six in the morning. Ah, guess old habits die hard. 

Hearing rustling and a deep sigh, you turn your attention now to the couch. Sebastian is still out cold, and probably will be for another four hours, at least. You smile and slip out of the bed, walking over to him. You smile at how peaceful he looks, his usual RBF nowhere to be seen. 

Not wanting to disturb him, you leave him be as you gather up your still-wet clothes. You’ll return his pjs to him later, after you’ve cleaned them and made sure they’re free of blood. Feeling something hard in your pocket, you slip your hand inside and remember what you found yesterday. Glancing at Sebastian, you gently set it down onto the table beside his couch that’s missing his radio. You then hobble over to his desk and search for paper and something to write with. Upon finding what you’re looking for, you scribble down a little note and leave it there next to your gift. You give him one last look before starting to limp up the stairs. Because it’s so early, no one else is up yet, so you slip out unnoticed thankfully. You’re not sure how you’d explain yourself to Robin. 

When Sebastian wakes up, the first thing he does is look over at his bed. He frowns when he finds you not there and he feels his heart sink a little. He sits up and runs his hands through his hair before scrubbing at his face. Upon dropping his hands, he notices two items resting before him. He practically has stars in his eyes as he picks the Obsidian up. He can’t believe what he’s seeing. 

Noticing the paper next to it, he picks that up next. As he reads your note, he starts to smile harder and harder. 

Dear Sebastian, 

Thank you for patching me up. Don’t think I ever actually properly thanked you last night. It means a lot to me that you’d go through all the trouble. I want you to have this. A little birdy once told me that you’ve always wanted to see Obsidian. I hope you can mark this off your bucket list now. If there’s anything else you want to see, I’m sure I can make it happen ;) Text me :) xxx-xxx-xxxx

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

MASTERLISTS

More with Sebastian

Join my discord server: https://discord.gg/qnDxJ6rr67 

Tag List: @katelynwithpaint, @babykirbysstuff ✦ if you would like to be added or removed, comment or send an ask. Also, remember to tell me if you ever change your username so I can continue to tag you :)

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

[facioleeknow]

Dessert ° Hwang Hyunjin

Your vampire boyfriend loves to treat you and take care of you, in more ways than one ;)

Wc: 893 Genre: smut 18+ ONLY, Vampire AU

Tw: smut, Vampire Hyunjin, oral, biting, blood, blood drinking, mention of food and eating, public sex

Part of my valentine's day collab!

When Hyunjin told you the truth about what he really was you were shocked to say the least. It took you some time and some pondering to accept his nature and to not instinctively be afraid of him. The thought of breaking up with him did cross your mind but the way he behaved was not dangerous, in fact he cherished and protected life. The love you felt for him was way too powerful to ignore and when you went back to him, he welcomed you like you never left, with open arms.

Having a vampire boyfriend had clearly its downfalls; he was an undead creature and to survive he needed to take life from others. It was a bloody life, literally. But it also had its perks. Hyunjin had lived thousands of years, had hundreds of lovers and knew his emotions and what he wanted. That sureness was what attracted humans the most, the confidence he exuded was intoxicating. It was also what pulled you in at first, that confidence, and what made you feel safe now as months had passed and you were well into your relationship.

Another perk was the money. He was loaded because he didn’t need to eat nor drink nor do most things that humans spent money on. It would be a lie to say that you didn’t like being spoiled. And spoil you he did,he always bought you the finest dresses and jewelry and offered you the most delicious food.

That’s why when a box arrived at your house on valentine's day with a simple “wear this tonight “ note, you weren’t surprised, nor were you surprised when he parked his car in front of one of the most expensive restaurants in town.

He had booked a private room for you two, “only the best for you my love” he said and then the chef had dropped your food off and left. You were alone.

The food was amazing, everything melted in your mouth and the different flavors were paired so well together that a little gasp escaped your mouth. Hyunjin chuckled at your reaction. He wasn’t eating, he had told you once that human food all tasted bland to him after he was turned, but he had a glass of wine in his hand that he sipped lazily. 

You devoured the meal under Hyunjin’s attentive gaze.

“It was great, baby. Thank you,” you looked at him with shiny eyes. Your boyfriend simply grasped your hand and started to gently drag his thumb along your smooth skin.

“How about some dessert, my love? We could split it,” he asked with a sultry voice. Your brows furrowed in confusion.

“You don’t like human food.”

“You are right, my love, but there is one dessert that I particularly love.”

You gasped in excitement,  it was the first time you heard of Hyunjin liking human food.

“Then we should order it,” you looked around for a waiter to no avail.

“There is no need, my love, it’s here already,” he smiled at you wickedly.

In a matter of seconds the plates were on the floor and you were propped on the table. 

“Hyunjin, the plates,” you whimpered as you felt his fingers drag along your thighs, left bare when your  dress rode up.

The vampire’s cold fingers creeped up your thighs and reached your hips.

“No panties? Naughty girl,” he purred in your ear.

“It’s your valentine’s present, do you like it?” you gasped as he kissed and licked at your neck.

“I love it, my love, I need to reward you for this fantastic present.”

Hyunjin gently pushed you to lay your back on the table, his fingers slowly pried your legs open and his eyes fixed on your already wet cunt.

“Baby,” you squirmed, trying to close your legs.

“You have the prettiest pussy, my love,” he moaned at the sight of you. 

His tongue delved between your legs, little moans and whimpers could be heard both from you and him. His long fingers massaged your thighs firmly. He lapped and sucked at your swollen clit, sending waves of pleasure up and down your spine.

“Baby, I feel empty,” you whined. Hyunjin hummed, the vibrations making you see stars. His pointer finger pushed against your little hole. Your pussy swallowed his fingers greedily.

Your back arched off the table, Hyunjin always made you see stars.

“Baby, can I drink? Just a little,” he begged.

“Please Hyunjin, bite me.”

You felt his tongue leave your clit just to be replaced by his thumb. He rubbed at your little bundle of nerves mercilessly while his fingers scissored inside of you, you wouldn’t have been able to last long if he kept that up. His sharp teeth delicately nipped the skin of your thigh and then sinked in, at the same time his thumb pressed more into your clit and started rubbing with more vigor. 

Your boyfriend let out a little moan at the taste of your blood, but it only lasted a moment as he parted from you a second later.

His mouth swiftly got back to his place between your legs. His fingers bent and pushed against that sweet sweet spot inside you, his mouth sucked harshly at your pussy.

The knot inside your stomach snapped and you saw white. The pleasure overwhelmed your senses.

“Sweet as always.”

[ashwhowrites]

Eddie Munson x cheerleader! Reader, they go to a party, and they're wearing couple costumes (maybe they're vampires or smth like that) but Jason starts to make fun of Eddie and Reader gets angry and punches Jason in the face, and Eddie thinks that hot, and they end up going to Eddie's to have sex

I hope this is what you wanted! And you enjoy it. Thank you so much for requesting<3

Happy October!

Dress up

Halloween landed on a Saturday night, and Chrissy was immediately ready to plan a party. The cheerleading squad got with her to help her plan it all.

Y/N was very good friends with Chrissy, and already planned to attend the party. The hard part was going to try to convince her boyfriend to go.

~~~

"Nope!" Eddie said, shaking his head. His curls bounced as his head shook back and forth. His legs stretched out on the coffee table as he sat on her couch. She sat next to him, holding his hand as she begged him over and over.

"Baby, why would I want to dress up in a ridiculous costume, and hang out with a bunch of assholes? We could have sex, then watch scary movies all night." Eddie argued, his head leaning back and turning to look at her. She rested her head on his shoulder, a pout on her lips.

"How about this? We go to at least say hi, and have a free drink or two. Steal the beer, go home have sex, and then movies!" She offered. She watched Eddie's face, trying to detect his answer.

He still didn't look convinced, before he could speak she spoke first.

"I'll let you pick my costume."

A huge smirk came across his face and she knew she was in for it

~~~

Eddie had his hand on her ass as they walked in, the tiny nurse costume clung to her body and showed off every part of her. She had fake blood dripped down her thighs, her hair was messy, and her dress was ripped. Eddie stood beside her with a smirk, dressed in a surgeon costume, but with makeup to make him look like a zombie. His bloody handprints were all over her skin, her legs, ass, and chest covered in his prints.

"What do we have here?" Chrissy asked, smiling as she took in their costume.

"I'm a nurse, and he is a zombie surgeon. "Y/N sighed, Eddie jumped on his feet, rubbing his hands together.

"And?" Eddie edged on, and Y/N rolled her eyes.

"And he's dead and ate me....literally", so I'm now a dead nurse." She explained, Chrissy laughed when Y/N yanked up her dress, a fake bite mark on her inner thigh. Eddie was proud of his idea and enjoyed the annoyance on his girlfriend's face.

"Clever, Munson," Chrissy smirked, nodding her head as she left to attend other guests.

"Go get your beers, baby," Y/N said, kissing Eddie on his lips. Eddie kissed her back then headed to the kitchen. He grabbed as many cans of beer as he could, stuffing the cans in his pockets.

"Robbing my girlfriend?" Jason snarked out, crossing his arms as he stood behind Eddie.

"Fuck off." Eddie groaned, he cracked a can open, and took a swig of the drink. Eddie turned around and went to walk past Eddie but Jason wouldn't let him.

"Who even invited you here? No one wants the freak here around, who knows what devilish things you have planned tonight." Jason growled, but Eddie just tried to shrug it off. "And dressing up as a doctor? like you'd ever be smart enough for that. Probably a sicko that would steal people's insides and chop them up."

"Leave him alone, asshole" Y/N barked, moving to stand in front of Eddie.

"And his slutty nurse, such a shame you got caught up with him. You could have had a real future for yourself." Jason said, but Y/N knew he was making things up. She loved her life with Eddie and she was excited for their futures.

"Better be careful with him. It's Halloween night, I'm sure his psycho self has a ritual plan and you'll be his sacrifice. He'll tie you down and gut you open like a pig." Jason's smirk didn't last long. It was smacked right off of his face.

Y/N landed a huge right hand smack to his cheek, Jason's head snapping to the side. Eddie felt his jaw hit the floor.

Not only did his girlfriend stand up for him. His girlfriend slapped the shit out of Jason while wearing the sluttiest outfit at the whole party. The momentum of the slap caused her dress to lift, the silk of her red underwear showing. Eddie moved forward to tug it down. His mind focused on her and her body, not hearing the curse words leaving her mouth as she screamed in Jason's face.

"Baby, let's go!" She snapped, grabbing his hand and walking out of the party. Eddie felt like he was in a daze. Mindedly following her as his eyes stayed on her ass. Her heels clicked against the driveway as she marched to the van.

Before she could open the door, Eddie had her slammed against it.

She gasped at the action but melted into him. His right hand was against the van above her head and his left hand was on her hip. His eyes ate her alive as he skimmed up her outfit.

"You are so fucking sexy." He growled, his mouth immediately on hers in a heated kiss.

She clawed him desperately, her hands snaking in his hair. His body pressed against hers and his erection was pressed against her thigh. His hands moved to her thighs, rubbing the skin softly.

"Shall we go home?" She smirked, her hand cupping his cock.

"Mhhm yes."

Maybe the party was a good idea....

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37

[aphroditelovesu]

.navigation

✿.｡Welcome to my blog! My name is Larissa, but feel free to call me Lari or Lady L, which is how you know me. I'm Brazilian 🇧🇷 and I was born on October 15th. English is not my first language. My pronouns are she/her and I am bisexual 💖💜💙. I am Libra ♎️ and INTP.

⤷♡. If you want to support my work or to just tip me, can you buy me a coffee? ☕️

⤷✿.Here I've gathered all my series, masterlists and some additional things to make them easier to find. Enjoy my blog, dear reader.

© aphroditelovesu, 2022. all rights reserved. do not translate or repost my work without my permission. you are free to use my edits, but I only ask that you credit me.

⤷♡.+ disclaimer: some of my works may have nsfw content in addition to the yandere genre. if you are sensitive to these topics, I recommend not reading.

⤷♡.+ genre: yandere/dark!au.

⤷♡.+ Requests are OPEN. Asks and concepts are open.

⤷♡.+ character ai: aphroditelovesu.

⤷♡.+ Rules and Fandoms List;

⤷♡.+ Emoji Prompt List + Prompts List;

⤷♡.+ Wips; 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6; 7; 8;

⤷♡.+ Commissions;

‘‘Love you so bad, love you so bad, mold a pretty lie for you.’‘ ˚˖੭ Fake Love, BTS.

⤷♡.+ BTS; 💜

⤷♡.+ BLACKPINK; 🖤

⤷♡.+ ITZY; 🧡

⤷♡.+ Stray Kids; 💙

➷ EXO: Yandere Baekhyun (Romantic), Yandere Suho (Romantic).

➷ TWICE: Imagine as Classmates.

⤷♡.+ Greek Mythology; ⚡

⤷♡.+ Egyptian Mythology; 𓂀

⤷♡.+ Historical Characters; 📜

➷ The Lost Queen | Yandere!Alexander the Great ❝You woke up near a military camp without remembering how and why you got there, you didn't understand why they were dressed like ancient Greeks, all you knew was that you weren't safe and you needed to get out of that place as soon as possible. Too bad for you that you found yourself attracting unwanted attention from the Macedonian King and he won't let you go so easily.❞ The Lost Queen Series Masterlist

⤷♡.+ The Vampire Diaries + The Originals; 🧛

⤷♡.+ House of the Dragon; 🐉

⤷♡.+ Game of Thrones; ❄️

⤷♡.+ The Sandman; ⌛

⤷♡.+ Outlander; 🗿

⤷♡.+ Wednesday; 🎻

⤷♡.+ Brooklyn Nine-Nine; 👮‍♂️

⤷♡.+ Bridgerton; 🐝

⤷♡.+ Shadow and Bone; ☠️

⤷♡.+ Outer Banks; 💰

⤷♡.+ K-Dramas; ❤️

⤷♡.+ Reign; 👑

⤷♡.+ The Tudors; 🗡️

⤷♡.+ Hannibal; 🍽

➷ The Bloody Viscount | Yandere!Anthony Bridgerton ❝You had fallen in love with Viscount Bridgerton and he had fallen in love with you. The marriage seemed perfect, but then why did Anthony Bridgerton always come home late and bloodstained?❞ Prologue; Chapter 1; Chapter 2; ➷ The Shadow of the Golden Dragon | Yandere!ASOIAF/HOTD/GOT ❝You have always been an avid reader and your greatest passion was delving into the pages of "A Song of Ice and Fire" by George R.R. Martin. You knew every character, every twist and every detail of the Seven Kingdoms as if they were part of your own life. But what you never imagined is that an unexpected encounter with a mysterious antique book seller would change your life forever.❞ The Shadow of the Golden Dragon Masterlist

⤷♡.+ Percy Jackson; 🌊

⤷♡.+ Harry Potter; 🔮

⤷♡.+ A Court of Thorns and Roses; 🌹

⤷♡.+ A Song of Ice and Fire; 🔥

‘‘We were born to be alone but why we still looking for love?’‘ ˚˖੭ Lovesick Girls, BLACKPINK.

⤷♡.+ Attack on Titan; ⚔️

⤷♡.+ Naruto; 🍥

⤷♡.+ Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir; 🐞

⤷♡.+ One Piece; 👒

⤷♡.+ How To Train Your Dragon; 🐲

⤷♡.+ Death Note; 📓

‘‘Don’t you know that you’re toxic?’’ ˚˖੭ Toxic, Britney Spears.

⤷♡.+ Marvel; ۞

‘‘I wish you would love me again, no, I don't want nobody else.’’ ˚˖੭ Love Me Again, V.

⤷♡.+ Love Letters; 💕

⤷♡.+ Love Letters II; 💕

⤷♡.+ Kinktober 2023; 🎃

➷ A Black Rose | Yandere!Ian Daerier ❝A cruel and narcissistic reaper falls in love with the woman he was supposed to take the life of.❞ Oneshot;

[madhatterbri]

Where You Belong | K.M.

Summary: Kol doesn't like the two of being broken up. He reminds you where you belong.

You looked at your watch and sighed. Another date had no showed. You cursed under your breath. All the secret meet ups you had with him seemed like a waste now. This guy was one of the good ones. He was a lawyer with a love for animals and history. Importantly, his family was nowhere near New Orleans.

"Kol got another one?" Your friend asked while wiping the bar down. They were closing for the night. After another no show, you decided to hang out with her and walk her home.

"Yeah. I thought I had outsmarted him but he has spies all over," you whined while rubbing your temples in frustration. You turned to see a man staring at you from outside the closed bar. He looked away when your eyes locked on to his. "Perfect example but at least that one sticks out like a sore thumb. I can't imagine how many are participating in my tours,"

Your tour guide career is how you met Kol Mikaelson. At first, he was sweet and constantly flirted with you. He would take your tours once a day no matter the weather. At the end of one tour he asked you out. You said yes and the rest led you here.

"Have you tried talking to him?" Your friend asked over her shoulder while counting the money in the register.

Your eyes widened at her in disbelief. Talk to the man that wants to ensure you are a spinster once you are old. The same man that acts before thinking and loves to cause mayhem. You would have a better conversation with a wall.

"Talk to the man that will go hours covered in blood? The same man that has caused my dates to either leave town, never talk to me again, or go missing?" You asked while using your fingers to count. "Sure let me just walk over to his family's place and speak to him,"

"I think you should. You have to set up boundaries with him," she replied. Boundaries. That is something he knows nothing about. "You are allergic to cats so being a crazy old cat lady isn't in your future. Let's get out of here,"

The walk to your friend's place consisted if her hyping you up to talk to him. The guy from earlier followed you. At least you knew the two of you would be safe. Some of the tourists around here could be a little aggressive when drunk.

You started asking the guy questions about your current situation. You felt it would be rude to not include him. He must not have been much of a talker because he didn't answer.

"Have a good night. Talk to him. Maybe you two can come to some sort of agreement,"

"Yeah, sure, come on Bob. I'm not dating this one so please don't report her to Kol," you shouted at him.

Your friend snorted and walked inside her apartment complex.

Thoughts zoomed through your mind on how to deal with the jealous ex-boyfriend. During your time together he was always so possessive.

You should have known you would never date another person in New Orleans again. No. There was no way you were going to think like that. He had to let you go once and for all.

"Come on, Bob. We are going to your boss," you announced and made your way to the Mikaelson home.

"Kol Mikaelson!" You yelled while looking for him. You walked down hallways until you saw him at his favorite place. He sat at a desk in his room. An opened book and alcohol in his hand to busy himself on the Friday night.

"Darling, must you be so loud? Hope is sleeping," he groaned in annoyance. Another night of babysitting duties while the others go on another killing spree adventure. You walked to him and immediately saw the blood on his collar.

"Wonderful. Blood on your shirt. I guess this one gave you some hassle about wanting to date me," you wondered. "He had a family you know,"

"The bloody fool still has a family. He isn't dead," he countered while feeling insulted. The man had given Kol some trouble before a broken nose cleared up their misunderstanding. "Besides he couldn't even win a fight,"

"A mortal couldn't win a fight against a thousand year old vampire? The shame that man has brought on all mortals,"

"You belong here, my love. I am never going to stop. Even if I have to kill one hundred men,"