#Vampire Time fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sailing-through-hawkins · 9 months

Text

✧ written for 'charm' ✧ word count: 548 ✧ rated: T ✧ cw: none ✧ tags: vampire eddie, also thirsty eddie ✧ @steddiemicrofic ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

Eddie stalks closer.

He's been starving for weeks. Every night, he comes back here and makes his way through the crowd of bodies, weaving through their rhythms as they dance to the loud, loud music booming out of the club speakers.

But there's been no one.

Not one single person he could feed on, not one body that caught his hunger's attention, just making it fester and claw its way through his flesh until he has to leave before he can make a scene.

Jeff offered to help him hunt but his own damned pride doesn't want anything between his hunger and his meal, even a helping hand.

But now he's found a lonesome little thing outside the club. It leans against a streetlight, dressed in black as if to blend in with the shadows, as if it knows what it means to be one with the night.

As though it isn't sweet, sweet prey.

The streetlight flickers, once, twice, and in between those moments he's right there, hand stretched out.

"You're -"

The man - it's a man - turns around to face Eddie and oh.

"- pretty." Eddie says dumbly.

The man's pinched expression turns blank, before he ducks his head with a shy smile, looking up through lovely lashes.

Eddie blinks as those hazel eyes gaze back at him sweetly, his brain scrambling to gain any sense of gravity that was lost the moment he met those eyes.

"Thanks," the man says with a grin, one of his (scarred, veiny, pretty) hands pinching the hem of his black skirt and swishing it back and forth. "I've never worn one before but I thought it suited me, y'know?"

With an audible gulp, he nods, hand dropping pathetically between them. "Y-yeah, it does. It suits you. You're pretty."

Giggling, the man hooks a finger around the pinkie of his pathetic hand and it sends crackles of warmth through his veins, crackles that burst into his ribcage and make his heart beat again.

"You - I - uh," Eddie stammers and the man laughs again, pulling Eddie closer gently by the single point of connection they have.

"Are you always this articulate?" he teases as the streetlight flickers again and Eddie sighs when he catches a glimpse of the man in the moonlight, radiant and sweet and -

"Hi," Eddie says dreamily, tilting his head, void of thought, unable to resist the charm, the thrall of this pretty, pretty man.

The man leans back against the post, crooking up a leg so his knee grazes the skin peeking through the rips of Eddie's trousers. Eddie stares at the thick thigh now in his immediate space, fingers itching to stroke along the flesh, but then a finger gently pushes his chin upwards until his eyes catch on hazel once more. The man smiles at him and says softly, "Hey."

Eddie swallows.

The streetlight flickers for a few seconds and as he’s basked in the silvery glow of moonlight, the man whispers, “Do you want me?”

Eddie nods.

The hand under his chin ghosts over his skin, curling up behind his head to grasp his hair, and he gasps. The man pulls him closer, he smells incredible, and laughs darkly as the streetlight finally goes out.

“Then take a bite.”

✧ this is dedicated to the lovely @xenon-demon because i wanted to write you something and you asked for a reverse on the monster thralling a human plot and i think we both won here ✧

#sailor✧writes #steddie #microfic #writing #au content: vampires #steddiemicrofic #i hoped for a stronger sense of luring here to really get that sense of a thrall but i think this is pretty good too #i hope you like this charlie!!! it was so much fun #sip water every time i used the word pretty and you'll be so hydrated #the way i wrote this without even writing about blood is that impressive or boring for a vampire fic idk #also yes the articulate line was from hercules listen megara was a staple in my childhood -

254 notes · View notes

trensu · 8 months

Text

have another snippet of stasis in darkness! just 'cuz i'm bored tbh, and kinda stuck on all my wips i'm currently working on.

The seventh night:

“Has he spoken to you yet?”

“How could he when you’re here yammering my ear off every night?”

“He’s a god, I’m sure it wouldn’t be that hard for him to shut me up.”

“Even gods have their limits.”

“Oh, har har. The warrior’s got jokes. You didn’t answer my question.”

“...not yet,” Steve said stiffly.

“It’s been how long now? A week?” The man hummed in a falsely thoughtful manner. “Maybe he’s just not that into you, man. Maybe he’s letting you down easy.”

At his words, Steve involuntarily curled his shoulders inward, slightly, ever so slightly, in defense. He'd been wondering that same thing earlier that day. Steve had toiled hours in the sun to fix up the shrine; to make it welcoming; to encourage a divine visit.

He had stopped wearing his armor to free up more time to work. Putting it on and taking it off took too long, and he didn't have to maintain it as much if he wasn't wearing it regularly. He stuck to only his chainmail. He'd kept his shield stored away, too, so it wouldn't get in the way while he worked. Though, he made sure to keep his sword nearby.

He’d taken his knife and traced over the etchings of stars in the alcove that served as a backdrop to the statue. His knife had been ruined but it didn't matter. The Lord of Night would probably want the stars of his dark sky with him, he reasoned, and these had worn so thin. Sadly, it was the only detail he could bring out of all the stone. The statue’s face was so crumbled that Steve couldn’t even begin to guess what it had originally looked like.

He had discovered that the vines he chose to keep were moonflowers. They had blossomed every night since he’d removed the other more invasive plants. He'd draped them carefully so they lay across the statue's shoulders, wrapped lovingly around its torso and clung to its waist before the ends of the vines trailed off at the knees.

The strange man might have made himself a nuisance during his visits but he never stayed the whole night. Steve had been able to get a few hours of makeshift prayers at the shrine every night. He’d done all this, yet dawn broke every day without a single sign that the Lord of Night had been listening.

“Warrior?”

Steve broke out of his reverie. He refused to look at the man. He had to clear his throat roughly before he could speak.

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been rejected by someone I love." Steve tried not to dwell on his father's perpetual scowl and his mother's infinite disinterest. "I’m pretty used to my devotion being one sided by now.”

“That’s a bummer,” the man said. His sympathy was meant to be teasing, Steve could tell, but it came out surprisingly sincere. “Good thing you have a whole pantheon! Strong guy like you? Any god would take you to be their warrior in a heartbeat.”

“What are you talking about? No, I’m nowhere near done with his shrine,” Steve said determinedly. “I know a silversmith and a stone mason who’d give me a hand, and Dustin and Robin have been dying to come up here to bring him offerings. The only reason they didn’t come with me is because I had to do the pilgrimage on my own if I wanted a shot at earning his blessing.”

The man spluttered.

“Are you insane? A god rejects you and you’d come back? What kind of stupid–were you dropped on your head as a child?

“A couple times, but that doesn’t have anything to do with it.”

“Are you sure? Have you checked? You should go to one of the gods of medicine. Owens, maybe. Have him take a look at your head,” the man huffed in frustration. "For stars' sake, why would you want to come back?"

He ignored the insult to his intelligence. For stars' sake. Steve murmured the words to himself, letting them settle in his mouth to get a feel for them. He'd never heard of that one before. He liked how it rolled off the tongue, natural as anything.

The man waited for his response. Steve took a moment to try to sort out his words. He kept his head bowed towards the shrine as he ruminated.

“People barely remember my god,” Steve finally said. “And when they do, they remember him as something he’s not. Even if he doesn’t believe I’m worthy of carrying his crest, he shouldn't be forgotten.”

The man said nothing. Steve took a shuddering breath before the quiet could take over.

“Having someone forget you is…it’s very lonely. Which is the worst feeling. I…I guess I don’t want him to be lonely anymore.”

The silence that followed his statement stretched long enough that Steve started falling into that meditative state he’d learned during his many nights at the shrine. It helped dull the twisted up, unsteady sensation that lingered from the man’s prodding at his every self-doubt and fear.

“He hasn’t rejected you yet, though,” the man broke Steve's musings awkwardly.

“He hasn’t reached out to me either. It’s fine. I’ll keep coming either way.”

Another silence. It was around the time the man usually left Steve to his worship. He didn't hear retreating footsteps. Instead, the man cleared his throat, and when Steve looked up at him, the man turned his face away, shrouding it in gloom.

“Maybe he’s nervous. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t contacted you yet.”

“Nervous? No way.”

“He sounds like a godly weirdo,” the man said. “Maybe he’s never had a holy warrior before and doesn’t know what to do.”

“He’s the good kind of weirdo! And there’s no way he’s not had a warrior carry his symbol. He must’ve had loads back in the day. I probably don’t meet his standards,” Steve smiled lopsidedly, playing off his insecurity.

“I’m serious!” the man exclaimed. “It’s possible! Some gods never get warriors. Some never want them at all!

“Look, even if I was the first to offer to be his, he’d know he didn’t have to be nervous,” Steve insisted. "I’ve never served a god before either! I wasn’t sure I could have faith at all until I learned about him. So like, if he’s new to it then so am I, and we’d figure it out together.”

“...you really mean that, don’t you? You’d let him make it up on the fly if he took you on.”

“Well, yeah,” Steve shrugged.

“You’d keep coming back even if he rejected you?”

“Yep.”

“But why? That’s so stupid. Nobody would do that!” The man sounded frustrated.

“I’m not really known for my smarts,” Steve said matter-of-factly. “Robin and Dustin had to translate the only book we found about the Lord of Night because I definitely wouldn't have been able to. It was a tiny book but it still took them ages to do because the language doesn’t really exist anymore. So they told me it’s possible it’s not accurate. It felt true, though, to me.

“There was this quote, I can’t recite it word for word, but…it was something about how monsters don’t always look monstrous, and the monstrous aren’t always things to be feared.”

“That sounds ridiculous,” the man protested. Steve shook his head.

“No, it’s true! Like, I know I’ve got a pretty face and really great hair,” he smirked when he heard the man scoff, “but I was such a fucking asshole when I was younger. I went around hurting people on purpose, tearing them down for no reason other than I was hurting too, and that’s the shittiest reason to hurt anyone. I had to get some sense knocked into me by the people I call friends now.

“My friends are the greatest people I know, and I’m really lucky to have them, but to everyone else? My friends are losers. They’re rejects because they don’t act right or they don’t look right; they talk too much or too loudly. People treat them like shit because they're different.

“And after I noticed that, I started seeing it more even if I don’t always pick up on it. And I still mess up sometimes. I'm not a god, I can't change the world but…in the stories Robin and Dustin translated, the Lord of Night helped people like my friends because it was always the weak and rejected that try to hide themselves in the dark. I want to help those people find him again so they know they’ve got someone holy in their corner. They should know someone loves them enough to protect them.”

Steve didn’t really know where all those words came from; he wasn’t a wordsmith like Robin and Dustin. He always had a hard time verbalizing his thoughts, and he usually messed up the words. Nonetheless, these words had almost burned to be said.

When the speech that flowed from him finally reached a natural end, he felt…lighter, cleaner. He felt like his shield and sword when they were polished to a shine. But when he turned to see his audience’s reaction, the man had gone. Steve felt strangely dejected instead.

–

The eighth night:

“Hey, it’s me again. My supplies are low and I don’t know what your thoughts about hunting on your land are so I’d rather not…I don’t want you to think I’m disrespecting you. I might have to leave soon to get more supplies,” Steve swallowed nervously. “Which isn’t an ult..ultimate…? No, damn, what is it called? I’m not trying to force you to talk to me before then, is what I mean. Not–not that I could! With you being a god.”

Steve scoffed at his own blundering. He should’ve had Robin help him make speech notes. Cards with conversation starters. Something! He took a deep breath and tried again.

"But I'm coming back, I promise. I meant what I said about fixing up your shrine. I’ll commission a new plaque and I’ll talk to the stonemason about replacing your plinth. I don’t know a lot about sculpture, but I’ll get you the strongest type of stone and get something nice carved on it. Your flowers? Or cats? Cats are cute. Maybe your bats would be better…?” Steve trailed off.

It was quiet save for the faint rustle of leaves in the cool breeze. The full moon illuminated the area more than ever before. The shrine must have really been a beautiful sight back in its heyday. The thought of it sent a pang of longing through his soul.

The hour came that the strange man usually showed up. Steve steeled himself for another round of questions, another jab at his faith. The hour went by with Steve alone in the clearing. Steve frowned.

“Do you think he’s okay?”

Steve’s question went unanswered.

After another hour without seeing his stranger, Steve had finally convinced himself to round the perimeter for a quick check in case the man was nearby or in need of assistance. When he found nothing, he checked again in case he missed something.

Still nothing. Uneasily, Steve gave up his search and returned to the shrine. He knelt before it again, head bowed. He cleared his throat.

“Lord of Night, I don’t know his name, and I know he’s been rude–annoying–but could you please watch over the man? Please keep him safe from harm for as long as the stars shine tonight. Thank you.”

He received no response, but Steve had faith. He knew he was heard. He knew his god wouldn’t let an innocent come to harm if he could prevent it.

ps: i do not do those reader tag list things. if you’d like to keep up with my stuff, follow my writing tag: trensu tells stories

#trensu tells stories #stasis in darkness #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #i'm hopping around between working on this fic and a couple of different fics for the hawkins halfway house au #whenever i feel uninspired by one i jump to the other #i've also dabbled a little with additions to the chrissy the vampire slayer au i threw together real quick a while back #someone please tell me how to keep focused long enough to finish one wip rather than juggling like five of them at a time #anyway #i actually have more of this one written out but this part of it is the only one that i'm pretty sure i won't go back and change around #whereas the rest of it is still getting rearranged over and over lol

225 notes · View notes

anthonysdemo · 9 months

Text

jegumarylily? bet you didn’t expect that one

319 notes · View notes

kinaesthetiqueer · 1 month

Text

that feeling when your new friend is turning into remnant's bloodthirstiest cryptid and no one else knows it, not even her.

art for a scene in chapter 18 of her pulse in my throat

(the other piece for this chapter is here)

#weiss schnee #nora valkyrie #pyrrha nikos #rwby #nordic winter #rwby fanart #rwby fic #pyrrha infodumping about flowers is one of my favorite little headcanon things at this point.#nora really is trying to listen #but weiss' continued obliviousness/denial is distressing.#i'm really happy with this piece #even though it delayed the chapter quite a bit.#i love their outfits and their expressions and especially love ru'ee's hot cross bunny logo :')#i think this is only the second time i've drawn pyrrha.#i'm always a bit thrown off by her height in comparision to nora #kina draws #snowstorm vampire au

78 notes · View notes

hayleysummers · 7 days

Text

the vampire diaries universe really has a difficult time letting their female characters be simultaneously kind and nurturing while also showing them to be strong and capable women, which is why hayley is so refreshing to see. yes, she’s a mother and a voice of reason within the chaotic mikaelson family but she’s also ruthless and petty at times. she’s headstrong and able to speak and fight for herself, but she’s also vulnerable and longs for someone to take care of her (which I think comes from her being forced to grow up with herself as her only form of protection)

#the originals #the vampire diaries #hayley marshall #have I mentioned lately how much I love her?#was reading a haylijah fic this morning and got stuck in my feels over how perfect elijah is for her #she’s so strong and badass and deserves a space where she doesn’t have to be that all the time #UGH HAYLEY YOU PRECIOUS BEING #to was slightly better with woman compared to tvd but not by much #bc you still have Rebekah’s arc being reduced to her wanting to be a mother #and they still treated the woc as disposable #but at least hayley and cami got to be vulnerable and capable so um that’s a small victory

63 notes · View notes

tiniest-hands-in-all-the-land · 1 year

Text

Just some kids

#the vampire dies in no time #kyuuketsuki sugu shinu #kyuushi #tvdint #ronadora #draluc #ronaldo kyuushi #ronaldo tvdint #tinydraws #i have a fanfic idea for these two #in the highschool au i mean #but i gotta get through the one i’m working on first #and another one #cuz the hs au one is a chapter fic that i may or may not actually have enough content/energy to finish lol #for some reason i keep trying to draw umbrellas despite the fact i cant draw umbrellas #just like i keep putting fight scenes in my fics despite the fact that i cant write fight scenes #smiley face :)

383 notes · View notes

robertdowneyjjr · 9 months

Text

consider:

an au where tony has been a vampire for hundreds of years and has resigned himself to the idea of immortality. it’s lonely, and just the thought of it is exhausting, but it is what it is, and he doesn’t particularly have a death wish despite the endless centuries of finding and losing people he cares about.

sometime in his fourth century of being undead, he becomes an avenger. he meets captain america. he and steve become friends. eventually they become more than friends.

after they start dating, tony exclusively feeds on steve instead of relying on blood bags. steve heals quick, after all. he has plenty of blood to spare for his lover.

slowly, gradually, the serum running through steve’s veins cures tony’s vampirism.

tony finds a new wrinkle on his face one morning. he feels drowsy at night instead of during the day. he develops a bit of a tan.

his heart starts to beat again.

he and steve grow old together.

#somebody write it because i simply do not have the time or energy #stevetony #stony #vampire tony au #fic ideas #headcanon things #kay writes things

189 notes · View notes

lil-shiro · 4 months

Text

A very special webweave inspired by this vampire!Fernando strollonso fic written by my talented pals :)

Blythe Baird "If My Body Could Speak" // Sonya Vatomsky, "Spring Flowers," from Salt Is for Curing // @vicsy @boxboxbrioche "sink your teeth" // Bridget O'Bernstein, "HOW TO BE A BODY" // Kaveh Akbar, "Pilgrim Bell" // Letters of James Joyce [originally published 1966]

#go read the fic i promise it's worth your time #who doesn't love vampires!!!#I had this poetry saved for weeks and finally got around to making this #strollonso #lance stroll #f1 edit #fernando alonso #my edit #web weave #f1 rpf

108 notes · View notes

avvail-whumps · 3 months

Text

Royal Bought: Sampling #5

previous · masterlist · next

content warnings: vampire whump, defiant whumpee, human auction house, captivity, manhandling, minor blood

The vampire’s grasp was unrelenting, but that was to be expected when Luke had done something as stupid as spit in his face.

He could still taste the sticky glob of blood between his teeth, pooling from his split lip, a numbing, throbbing sensation having replaced the aching pain by now. The tip of his boots clipped against the edge of the stairs as he was unceromiously hoisted up, his eyes watering.

Luke heard the clang of the door being pushed open, revealing a more modern interior as he was led — or better yet, dragged — down the corridor. It was buzzing with workers passing by, mostly vampires, but even then, Luke caught a glimpse of some of the blank faced humans working obediently.

It sent a shiver down his spine.

No one really paid attention to them, all except the occasional glance, no doubt due to Luke’s bloodied face and the way he was being manhandled down the corridor. Was it uncommon for humans to fight back? He didn’t think it was that, so much. They were merely glancing at him as if he was this wild, untamed dog with no manners.

The vampire eventually came to a stop in front of a door, pushing Luke inside the room with a hard shove. He staggered, the grip on his hair having been released, a cry of relief coming from his sore scalp. The door was shut behind him, and even though Luke wanted to wrench his head around and send a deadly glare towards the creature, he was more taken aback by one sat on a comfortable looking couch in front of him.

This vampire looked older, his lips pulled into a calming smile.

The room was strange to Luke. He had grown up in a camp in the middle of the wilderness, making use of anything they could around them to live. There were things in here that he had never seen before - more namely, the light source of the room. There were no windows here, and yet, the place was not shrouded in darkness.

Luke’s eyes wandered around in confusion.

“Welcome,” the older vampire hummed kindly, gesturing to the space in front of him. “Please, take a seat.”

There was a table with rectangular sheets of paper and what seemed to be some sort of small kit of tools. Luke’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, throwing a subtle glance over his shoulder. The previous creature had closed the door behind him, remaining in the room. He was looking at Luke with disdain etched into those hardened features.

“There’s no need to be afraid,” the older vampire lulled, drawing Luke’s attention back to him like a magnet. He swallowed uneasily at the pleasant aura the vampire was exuding. His voice was soothing and calm. Why? Wasn’t he here to be sold off? “I know this all might be a little new and confusing for you. Let me introduce myself: my name is Silvan. And you must be Luke.”

Luke shifted uncomfortably at the knowledge of his name, uttered with such confidence. Silvan must have been quite an old vampire, considering the skin on his pale face was slightly weathered, and there were hundreds of years lingering in his eyes. He was wearing a tailored suit, black on dark raspberry sorbet, contrasted against his greying hair.

Silvan’s eyes were intense, even when Luke wasn’t looking at them, and it was like they were stripping every personal detail from him with ease. His voice was like smooth velvet when he spoke, low, dulcet tones coming from his tongue.

“You lived beyond the Collared Forest, am I correct?”

The first vampire moved silently behind him, as if his feet didn’t even touch the ground. When Luke glanced at him again, he had retreated from the door, boxing him in. Unlike Silvan, this was a clear warning to sit down and do as he was told.

Luke’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, the taste of copper still fresh on his tongue. Against his better judgement, his legs managed to gain some of their strength back, and he begrudgingly circled around the plush couch, sitting opposite the older vampire. The material was incredibly soft, and Luke wondered what it was made from, how it was shaped in such a peculiar way, and if everything here was this comfortable.

“Why do you care?” Luke gritted out, his narrowed eyes watching the older vampire like a hawk as he reached for some soft tissues out of a box, holding them out for him to take. He didn’t.

“Ah, I’ll take that as a yes then, I suppose,” he mused, brow cocked in amusement. His pointed eyes flitted over to the other vampire with a hum. “His blood?”

“He was misbehaving,” he sniffed codly, nose turned up. “He’s ill mannered and has a ridiculous temperment.”

Luke was almost offended. They were talking about him as if he couldn’t hear them.

“The scent will spread fast, Silas,” the older vampire sighed deeply, his head tilted and hands back in his lap. He didn’t look like he was even considering Luke’s blatant rudeness for ignoring the tissues handed to him.

“So do rumours,” Silas spoke smoothly. “It won’t matter in the end.”

Luke’s fingers twisted into his thighs. The older vampire’s gaze had almost softened for a brief moment when his eyes wandered back over to him, as if remembering that Luke was here and they had a job to do. Judging by the kit on the table and the way the other boy had informed him that humans were hoarded off for “sampling”, he figured this was exactly that. A sampling of his blood to determine if he was expensive produce, he didn’t doubt.

“The process can be pleasant if you just behave,” Silvan smiled warmly, speaking to him as though he would be inclined to take him up on that advice. “You’re very important to us. We don’t want to have to hurt you to keep you in line.”

He found that hilarious; vampires weren’t exactly a beacon of truth. The sticky blood on his face and the numbness of his lip was a reminder that they had no issue hurting their livestock if it meant keeping them in line.

“Bullshit,” Luke hissed, his nose wrinkling in disdain. “Important? You’re selling us off like cattle.”

“Cattle?” The older vampire mused. “You’re not cattle. We pride ourselves on taking care of our merchandise. We make sure you’re all healthy, fed well, given the proper care and attention when you need it.”

“You sell us,” Luke breathed, his voice almost breathless from even having to utter such horrifying words.

“What happens when you’re bought has nothing to do with us,” Silvan informed firmly, as if that justified the crowd of humans they had awaiting their horrible fate down below. “But here, Luke, you’re safe. If you don’t behave, then we, unfortuantly, have to take the necessary precautions to keep you in line.”

Luke licked his lip. The flesh flared with a raging intensity for a brief moment, and he could map out the distinct tear. Almost to make a point. Silvan noticed it, but he didn’t comment, head tilted in curiosity.

“Physical violence will, of course, be enforced if you don’t cooperate,” the older vampire hummed. “But as I’m sure you know, we have much better, and much tamer, methods. They can feel good.”

He made sure he wasn’t looking at Silvan’s eyes. He felt himself shivering at the memories of Justinian’s compulsion, not wanting his own bodily autonomy to be stripped away from him like that so easily.

“Feel good?” He echoed bitterly.

“Of course,” Silvan smiled. “Some things can be quite euphoric. Compulsion can relax the mind and the body. Even a feeding, if handled properly, can feel good for you, too.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Many humans quite enjoy it,” the older vampire chuckled softly. “They offer themselves up willingly. That’s the price of cooperation in this place. As a human who grew up beyond the Collared Forest, I don’t expect you to understand fully just yet.”

Luke’s chest bubbled with an irritated scoff. His leg was bouncing anxiously at a continuous pace.

“What does that have to do with anything?” He growled slowly, not missing the way Silvan gestured to Silas for a brief moment, who stepped around the table to collect the tissues the older vampire handed to him. Luke suddenly went tense on the couch when Silas turned to face him again.

“You are somewhat of delicacy,” Silvan hummed, treading carefully as if he was pondering on the words as he said them. “It’s rare for there to be humans who lived so far from our territory here. You’ll cause quite a stir in the markets once word spreads around. Especially if the scent of your blood is anything to go off.”

His fingers twitched, itching to reach for his necklace and squeeze it tight for any sort of stability. His heart began racing even faster than before, throwing him for a loop. His adrenaline surged as Silas stepped closer.

“Am I supposed to appreciate that? That I’m good money for you?” He hissed coldly, leaning away from the vampire as prowled closer. “Stay away from me.”

His demands were ignored.

“You want to sample this blood?” Silas asked, his nose wrinkling in disgust at the sight of Luke’s face. A hand closed around his forearm, yanking him back across the couch with a force that gave his shoulder an ache and his skull a wobble.

“No,” Silvan hummed, rising from the seat himself, and leaning down to collect something sharp from the tool kit in front of him. “I’d like it fresh from the vein. But, please. Wipe his face - and let him struggle.”

Maybe it was a cruel demonstration of how no matter how hard Luke fought against this, there was nothing he could do against them. No matter how many times he thrashed, ignored the throbbing pain from the tight holds, or retaliated with his own kicks and smacks, there was nothing he could do.

Silas had him easily pinned down on his back, one single hand locking his wrists together above his head. The vampire’s knee crushed into his ribs, pressing down uncomfortably onto his lungs, careless of Luke’s comfort as he wiped the blood from his face. Luke’s legs kicked out, breathing heavily between clenched teeth, screaming muffled curses and insults against the hand clamped over his mouth, tissues soaking up any fresh blood from his wound.

Silvan was hovering over him now, and Silas easily wrenched his head to the side, exposing the flesh of his neck. Goosebumps exploded across the expanse of skin, and squeezed his eyes shut tight.

“It’ll sting only for a moment,” Silvan warned him calmly, the feeling of cold hands prodding against his neck making him squeal. He felt a sharp prick, his body seizing against his own will. The older vampire pressed something cold against the area, gave it a couple swipes, and then drew away. Silas’ disgruntled expression darkened for a second, letting Luke stew in the position for a moment, before finally letting go of him.

He slapped a hand to his neck, sitting up so fast he’d almost gone dizzy.

“What did you do?” He snapped, his voice still trembling from the hysterics he’d built himself up to. His heart was pounding hard against his ribs. Silvan pinched the small, blood coated needle with his fingers, opting to ignore Luke for a moment. He swiped the needle swiftly against his tongue, giving himself a moment to taste the blood. Silvan then hummed, folded the needle between a white napkin, and placed it down on the table.

“Interesting,” he merely commented, and Luke awkwardly rubbed the side of his neck. “Though, I am not suprised. It’s guaranteed his blood will attract many well-off vampires.”

Silas dumped the bloody tissues in the bin. He didn’t look pleased by the situation at all, his eyes darkened and his expression grim. He wasn’t fatigued by Luke’s struggle at all, having not even broken a sweat, it seemed, or put in hardly enough effort to even quicken his breathing compared to him, who was still trying to catch his breath.

“He’s rabid,” Silas sneered. “Doesn’t matter how attractive his blood is. No one will take him with such an imputent temperament. None that could match the price, certainly.”

Silvan took a seat once more, throwing one leg over the other languidly as he observed Luke with those gleaming eyes, as if calculating exactly what he had in store for him. He clenched his jaw, trying not to let any slither of fear pass over his face. He didn’t want to give them the satisfaction if his fight caused them this much trouble. Luke wasn’t going to make himself easy to sell.

“We have plenty of time to prepare before the auction,” Silvan informed, though he seemed to be talking to Luke as well. He refused to catch his eye. “We’ll give you an opportunity to settle into your circumstances, Luke. I understand this is difficult for you, but there is no denying the inevitable.”

Bitter resentment, as well as this cold, crackling helplessness cut through him like a knife. His voice had almost lost its strength. “Fuck you…”

Silvan only smiled warmly.

“I’ll be sending you to Ileana, now,” he explained, his hands interlocked on his lap casually. “She will take care of everything from there. She’s be your handler, and believe me, our aim here is to take very good care of you. You’ll be provided quality food, clothes, and a room to stay.”

Luke bristled. “Lucky me, huh?”

Silas’ eyes narrowed an inch. “She will also be teaching you how to best accommodate your master, or mistress. It won’t be good for you to misbehave, Luke. We’re giving you the benefit of the doubt because of your…” He gave him a subtle once over. “...unique upbringing, but push your luck, and we will, unfortunately, have to risk completely stripping your mind.”

He remembered the humans he’d seen down the corridor. Lifeless eyes, blank faces, mindlessly following their orders. An empty shell to be used. A horrible shiver rolled down his spine at the thought, and he was sure Silvan caught on to the way his heartbeat quickened.

“You don’t want that, do you, Luke?”

“I don’t want any of this,” he croaked.

“Well,” Silvan hummed, unsympathetic. “That is something you will have to come to terms with.”

The older vampire suddenly straightened, glancing at a unique looking contraption on his wrist. Luke eyed it wearily.

“We need to press on and sample the rest of the humans,” Silvan smiled, his gaze flickering over to Silas with a beaming smile. “Please take him to Ileana and bring me the next one.”

Luke’s expression soured when Silas grasped his arm tightly, yanking him onto his feet. He gave a firm tug, but he wasn’t going to shake the vampire’s grip from him, not without a miracle. He could feel Silvan watching him go intently, his voice rising when he got to the door.

“Good luck, Luke,” the older vampire grinned, flashing his fangs. His voice went right through him, making his stomach twist. “Have a pleasant stay.”

tag list – @whumpatize-me-captain @whump-me-all-night-long @softvampirewhump @d-cs @obsessednerd505 @suspicious-whumping-egg @sapphirechao @sparrowsage @excessive-vampires

#royal bought #whump #whump writing #whump fic #whump series #whump snippet #whump scenario #whumpblr #whump community #vampire whump #human whumpees #non human whumper #whumper #whumpee #writing #my writing #avvail whumps #i can't wait for the collection of recurring instances where luke gets really confused by modern things #because imagine him using a functioning toilet for the first time 💀

68 notes · View notes

steviesbicrisis · 1 year

Text

I’m gonna say something and I dare you to tell me I’m wrong:

I FUCKING DARE YOU!!

#I know bubblegum and Steve are kids different #but think about babygirl s3 era #and they’re both royalty??#Eddie IS Marceline tho #I will die on this hill #vampire guitarist?? it’s them???#also all the marceline x bubblegum scenes I’ve seen can be found in Steddie fics #now I will go away knowing I’m right #bye #steddie #Steve Harrington as princess bubblegum #eddie Munson as marceline #Steddie au #adventure time au #Steddie as bubbline

697 notes · View notes

maenecoon · 1 month

Text

tw (mostly mild) depictions of violence and blood, bc it's involves vampires, also major spoilers for a fic im working on rn

i may or may not have a vampire kimchay fic idea

except the execution of it is going to have me combusting into flames??

anyways, thoughts about kim finding an annoying baby bat in the forest. he wants to ignore it, but he can't. so fine, he takes it in.

except...

kim definitely doesn't know how to care for a feral bat.

anyways! cue sweet/fluffy/bat-and-vampire shenanigans! like babybat so sated with blood that he becomes a little drunk, or at least the bat-version of drunk. babybat who flies into the window trying to escape because he's not good at echolocatio. babybat who sneaks into kim's closets to bite holes in every single one of his silk shirts.

vampire!kim somehow being whipped af for this cute but annoying little shit that he's somehow adopted. feeds him blood pudding and gives him many head scritches. shows him his red string murder board and rambles about his murder plans and all. vampire!kim who started off detesting or tolerating this pest at best but unable to imagine starting a day without the weight of babybat curled up on his chest.

then the murder plan happens. kim wants korn (his father/sire) dead, bc who doesn't, and he sneaks in to "kill" him.

he's gone in, wooden stake and holy water and all.

he goes bat-shit crazy. bodies of full-sized vampires drop to the floor around them as kim works with ruthless efficiency. he's memorised the techniques of his father's men and their weaknesses. he's dreamed about this for centuries. and it's pays off.

and then enters korn.

korn was always going to be the issue.

kim had no plans of returning alive - he knows to end lorn by all means necessary even if it means his own life - but korn has gotten more powerful. sire bonds are difficult to break, and even if kim has been diluting the bond and doing his absolute best to weaken their link, korn still has kim in an iron grip.

(if you'd read my phayurain vampire fic, there's this thing about sires being able to control their fledglings because of a bond they share when a vampire (sire) turns someone into a vampire (their fledgling). )

anyways.

when suddenly a weight in his pocket starts to stir. it's the little shit, the bat. and kim's all panicked because little shit is small and harmless and now barely the size of half his palm? like, kim's on his knees and has his hands shaking with effort not to plunge the stake into his own chest, by the command of korn.

it takes just a second, but bat flutters out of kim's pocket. bat, with all the rage that a bat can muster, swings himself right on korn's face and digs his fangs into korn's eyes. the eyes are part of what maintains the sire-control that korn has over kim, and kim is able to use that split second to drive the stake into korn's heart.

the moment that korn falters, falling to the ground with a thud, is the moment that the bat drops to the floor.

kim thinks like yeah, fuck, that must've taken a lot out of this poor baby bat, and god that fall looked bad, when all of a sudden the bat is expanding. almost like his bones are breaking (and kim winces because that sounds anguishing) and reforming and he keeps growing bigger and bigger and bigger until kim realised that this was no bat.

this was a vampire, trapped in the form of a bat.

this is his fledgling, his fledgling who was supposed to have died.

chay.

yeah anyways!! fun little story that i'm working on rn!! lmk what you think/want to see, if you got to the end of this! !

52 notes · View notes