#vampire feeding

[screamscenepodcast]

for everyone reading Dracula Daily and being like -- “why did Dracula snarf down the entire crew of the Demeter like a real glutton like that? How much does he need to eat?” -- I need you to understand Dracula’s entire motivation in this novel. The reason he’s old and decrepit at the Castle is that he hasn’t been eating. This is the whole reason he’s leaving for England. The population of the local villages know what he is so he can’t lure people in or go hunting among the peasants anymore. He has to force things. He has to kidnap babies. And he’s feeding them to his brides to keep them young and beautiful while he ages from lack of food. He keeps Jonathan in his Castle for so long and finally the night before he leaves he loses his self-control and feeds on him, just a little, as a treat. He doesn’t need to eat the entire crew of the Demeter, he’s been going without food for a long time now. But he can and this crew has no defences against him, so he’s going to. He’s a starved man at an all-you-can-eat buffet and while he tries to pace himself at the beginning (the initial deaths are quite spaced out) by the end he, again, loses self control and just chows down. Note this behaviour -- this is the second time he’s lost self control right before the end of a plan -- it’ll be a recurring pattern. But the entire reason he’s going to England is that it’s an entire country filled with people who’ve basically never even heard of vampires and have no way to defend themselves. It’s for food. He’s an apex predator who’s eaten up his food supply and needs new hunting grounds.

#dracula #dracula-daily #reading comprehension #crew of the demeter #vampire feeding #nomnom

[crowzwhump]

Tw: Vampire Whump | Vampire Whumper | Kidnapping | Noncon Vampire Feeding | Stalking (let me know if I need to add any!)

The city was bathed in the soft glow of the full autumns moon hung high in the sky, the soft glow of streetlights, casting long, eerie shadows across the empty sidewalks.

In this urban labyrinth, Whumpee, a young and unsuspecting individual, hurried through the narrow alleyways, unaware that they were being stalked by a predator of the darkest kind.

Whumper, a modern vampire with a taste for the thrill of the chase, had spotted Whumpee earlier in a bustling cafe, their heart racing as they sensed the sweet aroma of innocence that clung to their chosen prey.

As Whumpee turned the corner, they were startled to find themselves face to face with Whumper, who had been lurking in the shadows, just out of sight, now stepped into the dim light, a charming smile playing on their lips.

"Lost, are we?" Whumper purred, their voice as seductive as a siren's song.

They moved closer, their eyes locking onto Whumpee's, holding them in a captivating gaze.

Whumpee, disoriented and slightly flustered by the sudden encounter, stammered, "I… I wasn't expecting to run into anyone here."

The Whumper's smile widened.

"Well Fate has a funny way of bringing people together, Doesn't it?" they mused.

"In fact, I could use your help with something. You see, I'm looking for a particular place, and I seem to have lost my way. Would you be so kind as to assist me?"

Whumpee hesitated, their guard slowly lowering in the presence of the charismatic stranger.

"I suppose I could help you find your way," they replied cautiously.

Whumper's smile only grew, "Wonderful!" They said, "I do appreciate your kindness, truley."

As Whumpee turned their attention to giving directions, the Whumper's predatory instincts sharpened as the conversation continued, their words a hypnotic melody that dulled Whumpee's senses.

But as Whumpee's back was turned, Whumper finally saw their opportunity.

In a swift and shocking move, the vampire lunged forward, wrapping their cold, strong arms around Whumpee.

"W-what are you--!?" Whumpee gasped in surprise, the realization of their peril sinking in too late.

"You're too trusting, my dear," Whumper whispered, their breath sending shivers down Whumpee's spine. "But don't worry; I promise to make this encounter unforgettable."

Terror seized Whumpee's heart as they felt the fangs graze softly their neck, Their eyes widened while their breath quickening as panic set in.

"No, please, don't!" Whumpee begged, their voice quivering with fear. "I'll do anything, just let me go!"

"Anything, you say? How intriguing," Whumper purred, their grip tightening around Whumpee's trembling form pulling them closer against them. "But I'm afraid it's too late for negotiations, my dear."

Whumpee's breaths came in ragged gasps as they struggled to comprehend the nightmare they had been pulled into.

"What… what are you?" they stammered, tears welling up in their eyes.

The Whumper leaned in, their lips brushing against Whumpee's earlobe, sending a shiver of dread down their spine.

"I'm a creature of the night," Whumper hissed, their tone both seductive and menacing. "A vampire, if you will, and you, my dear, are about to become part of my world."

Tears streamed down Whumpee's face as they whispered, "P-please, there mm-must be another w-way. I don't ww-want to die."

The Whumper's eyes gleamed with an unholy hunger as they gazed into Whumpee's tear-filled eyes.

"Oh, you misunderstand me," They murmured. "I won't let you die. No, I intend to keep you alive, to make you my Blood Bag."

With a gentle but firm grip, Whumper lifted Whumpee's chin, exposing the pale, vulnerable curve of their throat while the moonlight danced upon the delicate skin, emphasizing the pulsing vein beneath.

As Whumpee's trembling body was held firmly in the Whumper's grasp, the vampire's fangs pierced their delicate skin.

A sharp, exquisite pain shot through Whumpee, followed by an intense sensation of pleasure that was impossible to resist.

Whumper's venomous saliva mixed with Whumpee's blood, igniting a euphoria that left them weak at the knees.

Whumper fed with a calculated rhythm, their lips pressed against the wound, their tongue dancing over the puncture marks, savoring every drop, and as the first drops of blood touched the their tongue, a shiver of pleasure coursed through their body.

Whumper's hand, cool and gentle, caressed Whumpee's cheek, guiding their face to the side to allow for better access to their throbbing vein.

The Vampire's tongue flicked over the wound, lapping up the crimson nectar that flowed from Whumpee's neck.

The taste was intoxicating, like the finest vintage wine, all while whumpee's heartbeat echoed in their ears, the rhythm of their life force lulling the Whumper into a hypnotic trance.

Time seemed to lose all meaning as Whumper fed, savoring every drop of precious life essence.

Whumpee's breaths grew shallow, and their vision blurred, the world around them fading into obscurity.

Finally, once Whumpee's body had grown frail and their breaths dangerously shallow, Whumper withdrew, their lips stained crimson.

They watched with a cruel satisfaction as Whumpee slumped forward, unconscious and utterly helpless.

With a predatory grace, Whumper gathered Whumpee's limp form into their arms their pulse had grown feeble, and their body had become a mere vessel, emptied of life.

Whumper's eyes glittered with triumph as they turned away from the moonlit alley, disappearing into the night with their newfound Blood Bag.

#vampire whump #vampire feeding #vampiric whump #kidnapping tw #stalking tw #noncon vampire feeding tw #seductive whumper #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #whumpee #whump writing #whump prompt #kidnap whump #supernatural whump #whump idea #whump inspiration #vampire whumper #human whumpee #nonhuman whump #nonhuman whumper #whump community #whump blog #whumpblr

[thetumarchive]

Vampire Feederism Prompts

A is known for going on uncontrollable frenzies when they’re hungry, so B makes sure they’re always comfortably sated around the clock.

Alternatively, normally vampires last a long time between feedings, but B coaxes A into overdoing it every once in a while so that it lasts longer.

A works in a hospital and has unsupervised access to the blood supply. Sometimes their temptations get the best of them.

A finds B’s blood irresistible, and often begs B to feed from them.

Alternatively, A finds that B’s blood has weight gain side effects. B seems to like the weight A is putting on a lot.

Due to their supernatural genetics, B’s only job is to supply A with blood, which they produce in excess, so they get a little whiny and irritated when A isn’t feeding from them enough.

Since A is the youngest member of the coven, the other vampires take turns hunting for them and feeding them in order to avoid a fledgling frenzy.

A’s vampire coven feeds human B the most delicious things to make their blood taste different. Each vampire has a different flavor preference, so B is getting bombarded with sweets, salty foods, spicy foods, savory foods, etc. They tend to go overboard and B ends up nursing a huge tummyache, which the coven is more than willing to take care of.

A is stubborn after being turned into a vampire and tries to eat only human food. They end up with a very bloated and queasy tummy.

As punishment for their crimes, A is restrained and forced to watch as coven leader B gorges themself on blood.

A hasn’t been feeding lately and has become resultantly weak. B makes sure to nurse them back to health.

A misses human food and develops a strange fascination with seeing B eat.

Worried that A isn’t getting enough nutrients, B takes it upon themselves to devour a food for every nutritional need, i.e. they chug milk for vitamin d. The weird food combinations have them feeling sick.

A doesn’t want to drink blood but the rest of the coven funnel feeds it to them anyway.

A is on a vegetarian diet (animal blood only) but when their fellow coven member B tempts them with human blood they completely forget their values.

#belly stuffing kink #vampire feeding #feederism prompts #feedism prompts #tw blood #tw feederism #tummy kink #wg text #wg fiction #wg story

[weirdlookindog]

Dorian Cleavenger - Vampire Feeding, 1998

#dorian cleavenger #vampire feeding #horror art #vampire #art #painting

[h3llgurlie]

I feel like one fact we either forget or ignore about vampires is how unsanitary vampire feedings would actually be. Like human saliva is full of bacteria that are dangerous if they pierce flesh regardless of how often we brush.

Imagine if your vampire partner bite you and you get hepatitis B bc their mouth is full of numerous blood related diseases and deadly bacteria.

#yes it’s hot when the Mc gets fed on by the vamp lead by i ain’t getting hepatitis #vampires #all encompassing loneliness #vampire #monster romance #interview with the vampire #vampire feeding #vampire the masquerade #monster boyfriend #vampyr #vampcore #vampira #what we do in the shadows #shower thoughts

[trying-not-horny-on-main]

Astarion x Tav one off fix : Blood Feast

You can find the full one-off work on AO3 but I'll include a little bit here :)

SUMMARY: You organize a little blood-tasting for Astarion and some willing participants. You get to be the one calling the shots as he feeds and feeds.

CONTAINS: Intentionally genderless 2nd person narration Lots and lots of vampire feeding Voyeurism Astarion gets to feed on a willing virgin Sex work (consensual/paid) No sex

***

Astarion drapes himself over you and says, “I need a moment before anything else.” His eyes are shut and you pull him towards you. “Almost like I can’t think past the blood.” It doesn’t seem to be lust, hunger or longing, but a deep calm. “Like I can’t at all.” He seems almost too relaxed to even ramble.

“I’ve got you,” you kiss his hair.

His bloodied chin drips onto his neck, his chest, and a little bit your clothes, but you don’t mind. You expected as much.

Astarion is loose and relaxed in your arms and against your body. With all the tension dropped from his body, he feels even softer as you trace your fingers along his shoulders and arms. Despite the blood and the heat of the multiple feedings, this moment itself feels incredibly wholesome, as if you had finally gotten him a feast of his favorite foods and he’s ready to sleep it off.

“How do you feel?” You eventually ask.

“Heavy and light all at once,” Astarion sighs.

Astarion nuzzles you but is mostly still. “Feeling very full right now. The high buzz from a single feeding has made way for something slower and deeper.”

As he explains, you realize that you have a buzz of your own. Typically, you are the submissive in your relationship with Astarion, but today you are in charge, caring, and making sure he’s safe. Today, you are doting on him and filling his needs. If not for the venue and the blood, it might even be wholesome.

“You’ve still got one more,” you kiss his forehead. “If you want. We saved the best for last.”

“More?”

***

#astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 #tavstarion #astarion acunin #vampire #vampire feeding #tw blood

[af-daemonicus]

Shhh now baby, it's ok. You trust me, don't you? So as I guide your hand towards your chest so that you might open yourself up to me, you know it will only be enough to break the skin. Enough for me to just get a little taste. If it starts to hurt you just tell me, and I'll stop. I'll make the hurt go away. You just put your pretty face between my thighs and I'll make sure it's all washed away; that pain, that worry, all of your thoughts will be long gone.

You don't need to think, do you darling? You know you can trust me, I'll keep you safe. Just crawl back into my arms, there's a good boy. Let me play with your hair and brush it out of the way of that enticing neck of yours so that I may kiss it. I promise to be gentle - you won't feel a thing. You won't feel as my teeth sink in and your blood slowly but surely drips down my throat. What you will feel is the soft skin of my hand wrapping itself around your cock, the flesh seeming to mold itself to exactly what you need. And you'll feel that pleasure raise your heart rate - but you won't feel that elevation pumping more and more blood from you into me.

Not until it's too late, at least. Not until it's far past the state at which you'd be able to do anything about it. But you trust me, baby. You know that as long as you're close, as long as I'm holding you, nothing bad will happen. You don't need your strength when it seems like mine is growing by the second. Don't you seem so... small, compared to me now? Aren't my thighs, wrapped around you, squeezing in such a way that makes you feel so protected? It's like you could just melt into me. You've already given me plenty to drink, what's just that little bit extra?

#vampire feeding #nsft #monster fucker #bl00d k!nk

[songbirdtales]

Sleepless Nights (AstarionxTav)

Author's Note:

Hello reader! This is a steamy SFW fic with some vampire feeding. This is set after the first feeding cutscene with Astarion. Hope you enjoy!

A rumbling filled Tav’s ears as they squeezed their eyes shut. A weight on their shoulder stirred them from their sleep, a hand gripping firm yet gentle on their arm. There was sound, a voice? It was hard to tell at first but as Tave woke fully they’d catch a soft, “-please.” 

Astarion hung over the tiefling bard, Tav’s cool complexion made them look undead in the moonlight, their long hair the only warmth to their coloring, strands splayed out like a puddle of rose gold under their head. The vampire looked sick, his breath labored and the shadows under his eyes deeper than usual. He tried not to flash his fangs as he smiled. “Thank the gods,” he sighed in relief. His voice barely a whisper, his desperation for privacy only slightly stronger still than his hunger. “I need your help.”

Tav sat up slowly, rubbing their unnaturally blue eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness of the night. “Do you have any idea what time it is?” They grumbled softly.

“I know,” a tinge of guilt laced his voice. “I wouldn’t have woken you if I had any other choice.” The ill look to him only compounded the misery in his expression. 

Their eyes narrowed as Tav studied him. Maybe he was being honest or maybe he was testing how far he could push their sympathy to get what he wanted, either way Tav pushed themself from the ground and motioned for Astarion to follow as the two slipped away from the fire.

Tav led Astarion towards the river beside camp, they were barely out of view when he caught up to them. Astarion’s stride quickened gradually as they walked, coming up behind and slipping his arms around Tav. One hand took their chin as his other planted firmly against their ribs and pulled them back into his chest. 

“What was it you said the other day, about your ‘delightful’ dream? Something about predator and prey?” His lips tickled their ear. His hand began to tip their chin to the side when Astarion felt the sharp points of nails digging into his skin. 

Tav’s hand grasped at Astarion’s wrist, black framed irises burned like fey light in the dark as they stared back at him sternly. “I’m trusting you.”

The smug grin slid from Astareion’s face. They didn’t need to say more, he recognized their look deeply. He knew fear too well, every nuance of micro expression etched into his mind. That’s the only reason he knew they weren’t afraid of monsters or even him, Tav was afraid of betrayal. 

Rage sparked in him as his mind raced with thoughts of who could have taught them that fear, but it didn’t catch a blaze nor explode. Instead his anger cooled to a warm ember glow, the hand holding them close wrapped more fully around their ribs as he gently squeezed Tav against him. “I know.” His tone said everything else.

He could feel their ribs compress as Tav exhaled, the tension in their body melting as their grip of his wrist releasing to a gentle hold. Astarion gently tilted their head to the side as Tav’s free hand pulled their hair aside.

They could feel the warmth of his breath against their skin, his nose tracing down their neck as he took in the scent of magic and iron. His tongue wet his lips as he felt their breath in his hand, their heart beat like a drum deafening his thoughts. 

Tav tried to prepare themself, minding their breath as he readied himself as well. Their bodies were in sync, and as he felt their ribs expand to their fullest in his hand, his jaw opened wide. Fangs poked at their skin, setting themselves in place as he waited for the slightest hint of exhale. As their breath gave out, his teeth sank into them. 

Astarion felt every little movement as Tav tensed. Their heart raced, breath quickened, and hands clenched as he began to feed. The feeling of their nails digging into his wrist grounded him every so slightly. A lone tether to call him back with. 

Tav’s vision blurred as their eyes struggled to keep focus. The pain was negligible, but there was a disorienting feeling to it all, dizzy, nauseating in a drunken way. Their legs began to buckle as they leaned back into him, his own hold guiding them. After a long moment Tav tightened their grip. “-Astarion,” it was the first noise they’d made since he’d bitten them, the weak croak ringing in his ears as he pulled himself from his feast.

His fangs detached quickly from their neck as he pulled his head away. Tav’s legs gave out as Astarion’s grip loosened, only letting them slip ever so slightly before his hold tightened once more to clutch them close.

“Why didn’t you stop me?” His anger sparked once more.

“I think I’m still exhausted from last time.” Their voice was so weak, their hand barely had the strength to hold onto his arm. He couldn’t stay mad at them like this.

Gently Astarion guided Tav to the ground and let his exhausted companion rest against his shoulder. He made sure they were comfortable as the two sat at the riverside. “Then I suppose you need some aftercare.” A joke was all it took for a hint of an amused smile to pull across Tav’s tired face, Astarion’s fangs poking out from behind his own grin. 

“Remember those tadpole dreams?” Tav threw his own words back at him.

Astarion let out an amused chuckle. “How could I forget?”

“I lied about mine.” Astarion fell silent, letting Tav continue as his eyes snapped down to them. “It was too upsetting.”

“Who was it?” He asked softly.

“He was an orphan my mother had befriended and kept fed before I was born. When she died, he made sure I was taken care of. He was a criminal so it wasn’t unusual for him to vanish without warning for months, sometimes years, and then reappear.” Their gaze softened as they stared out at the water, the exhaustion making them lose focus.

“That’s awkward,” Astarion grimaced. “Having a wet dream about your old brother.”

“He was never my brother.” There was a sharpness to their tone, it pricked at him like a thorn and he fell silent once more. “… I think the worst thing was it wore his old face.” Tav’s words caught Astarion off guard. “He… got into some bad magics. It changed him, physically and mentally. I couldn’t keep him close anymore.” Tav turned their head towards him, hiding their face in his shirt.

Changes like that weren’t totally unheard of, he should know, but how they said it made him think this wasn’t a simple vampire transformation. “You cut him out of your life because he became a monster?” His brow furrowed, trying to discern the nature of Tav’s anger towards a face these mind eating tadpoles deemed so important to them.

“No. I did it because he hurt me.” Their hands gripped at Astarion’s shirt tightly as their eyes turned up to him. They didn’t need to say more, Astarion once again recognizing the look in their eyes. So that’s who taught them such fear…

The one arm Astarion had wrapped around them to keep Tav from falling over squeezed ever so gently. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep watch while you sleep.”

They shifted closer, resting more fully against him as they sat partly in his lap. “Will you carry me back to the fire?” There was a playfulness to their half asleep inflection. 

It was a cute idea, it even made Astarion chuckle softly before he responded flatly, “I don’t think I have the arm strength.”

“Then what the hells was all that blood for?” Their gaze turned to a perturbed glare.

“You saw my complexion, darling, I looked ghastly. My looks are my main weapon.” He teased no more, his free arm scooping under their knees as Astarion lifted Tav from the ground and stood up. He let their head rest heavy against him as exhaustion overtook the tiefling.

Astarion brought Tav back to their bedroll. He’d gently lay them down, brushing their loose hair from their face as Tav settled into familiar scents and textures. They turned to sleep on their side instinctively as Astarion stood to return to his own bedroll to trance. 

Only once Tav was still and Astarion had settled into his trance would Gale open a single curious eye.

#baldur's gate 3 #fantasy #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x tav #tav oc #bg3 oc #astarion #astarion bg3 #vampire #vampire bite #vampire feeding #dark fantasy #gay #lgbt #enby #nonbinary #genderqueer #gale of waterdeep #gale bg3 #jealous gale #hurt/comfort

[whump-card]

Sunless Lives Part 33: I Need to Survive

~2840 words

CW: negative self-talk, beating, broken bones, attempted murder, torture, vampire whump, gunshots, vampire feeding, vomit, mouth whump, non-sexual throat fuck with a foreign object??? fellas…

Also NO main character death!

First, Previous, Next, Masterlist

~~~

“Mr Bowers, where are we going?”

Bowers glanced at Simon in the rearview.

“You’ll see.”

Simon huddled in the back seat as Bowers drove. He swore, he was never getting into the backseat of a car ever again. But he’d had no choice in this case; Bowers was a grade B vampire, and could easily snap Simon in half if he wanted to. Running was not an option on his ruined feet. Simon had let the vampire tuck him into the backseat and buckle him in like a child, and could only hope that cooperating would make whatever was about to happen as painless as possible.

He was doing his best to not think about what might be coming, but with Bowers refusing to answer his questions Simon had nothing to do but think as he shivered in the backseat. The rain had turned the May night cold, and Simon’s thin pajamas did little to keep him warm.

What if he’s taking you to an initiation.

Simon watched Bowers carefully, and waited until he was looking away while making a turn to feel the item Nora had dropped into his pocket.

What if they’re going to pin you down and -

It was a small metal and glass square. An MP3 player? A smartwatch? Simon didn’t want to take it out and look.

He’s not preybonded to you and Lara’s rules are gone, he can kill you. He can kill you.

“Please,” His voice was steadier than he expected, “Tell me what’s happening.”

“I would,” Bowers replied flatly, “But you wouldn’t like it.”

Yeah, no shit.

Matthew wouldn’t have let this happen.

Simon screwed his eyes shut, flinching from the pang of guilt.

Matthew-the-vampire wouldn’t have let this happen. He’s human now, and that’s a good thing. Whatever happens is worth it. Him being human and alive is worth it.

You’re not.

You’re not worth it.

Simon stared out the window and hoped against hope that the square meant help was coming.

~~~

“We can’t just run off without authorization!” Amber yelled.

“Bowers could discover they’re being tracked any second!” Matthew bellowed, “We’re leaving now!”

He and Gina burst out of the stairwell and into the parking garage, Amber chasing after them.

“You’re going to get yourselves killed!” she shrieked.

“What if they get on a plane, huh?” Matthew snapped at her, “What if they go somewhere we can’t follow?”

“We will figure it out!”

They reached Gina’s car and Gina opened the passenger side.

“We can’t wait for Dune to decide that Simon’s worth it,” Matthew kept arguing while Gina searched through her glove box, “I’m not letting him be taken again.”

“Neither am I.” Gina rejoined him, loading a pistol.

“But Bowers is a grade B, he…” Amber’s outrage melted into fear. “With only the two of you against him… He’ll kill you.”

“You could make it three.”

“I…” Amber slowly shook her head.

“You’re a fucking coward, Amber,” Gina spat.

“No, I’m not!” Amber’s voice echoed through the garage, louder and angrier than they had ever heard. “You think anyone will come after you if I go with you? I need to be here, to convince them to send you guys backup!”

Gina and Matthew exchanged a glance. Amber was right - she was the only one in a position to sway the VIU.

“Here.” Amber unstrapped her holster from around her waist and handed it and the gun it held to Matthew.

“Thanks,” he said, softening.

“Just… Survive as long as you can, and I will send backup ASAP.”

Amber stepped out of the way and watched as Gina’s car pulled out of the parking garage.

Then she sprinted back into the building, determined to do what she could.

~~~

Simon slammed into the ground, bruising his knees and scraping his palms raw on the wet asphalt.

“Get up,” Bowers ordered, closing the car door.

“I can’t!” Simon gasped. Bowers grabbed his arm and hauled him upright. He was done playing games. Simon cried out when his feet were forced to touch the ground, but no one was around to hear him.

They were in some sort of warehouse district; massive buildings loomed out of the dark around them, and Simon hadn’t seen a soul on their way in. Whatever Bowers needed this level of privacy for couldn’t be good. Simon’s earlier shocked calm, necessitated to keep Nora alive, had worn off and now he was truly terrified, trembling in Bowers’ grip.

Bowers half dragged, half walked Simon to the door of the warehouse he’d pulled his car up in front of. He threw open the unlocked door and shoved Simon through. Simon fell into the dark, bruising his limbs a second time as he tried to brace his landing. A moment later lights flickered on above him; he was surrounded by sky-high shelves full of plastic-wrapped boxes. He rolled over to look at Bowers, still posed by the light switch. Simon’s heart pounded and his breath came fast.

“Here’s where I come clean.” Bowers reached down and plucked up a length of pipe from where it leaned against the wall, as if waiting for him. It was about three feet long and two inches in diameter, and made of aged dark metal. The ends glinted bright where they were sawn off. 

Bowers started to take leisurely steps towards Simon, who began to pull himself backward along the floor, eyes glued to the pipe.

No.

“Everyone’s noticed by now, since the humans got the cure, and our man Yarl is out, the vampires being caught the fastest are the ex-clients of one Miss Lara Everett.” He twirled the pipe around. “That’s no good for us. No good for business.”

Simon rolled over onto his hands and knees, desperate to get away, to get away faster.

“But of course, none of them can kill you… Not directly, anyway. But I can. So I’m cleaning up, Simon. I took care of Isles and… You’re next.”

Simon froze, petrified.

Christian… dead?

YOU’RE NEXT.

Charged with adrenaline, Simon dug his feet into the floor and ran. The pain ripped a cry out of his throat. He made it two steps before the pain in his feet and his overworked legs made him stumble. His skinned palms crashed into the concrete floor yet again, then his elbow when his right wrist collapsed. But Simon moved through the pain, pushing himself up onto his left hand and his battered knees with a gasp. He could still move, he could still -

Bowers’ shoe stomped into his back, flattening him back to the floor. Simon twisted his head to look up, one cheek pressed against the concrete. Bowers leaned down, putting more weight on Simon’s back and ribcage.

“And since I have to do it anyway,” he smiled, “I may as well enjoy it.” He stepped off of Simon and raised the pipe. Simon twisted his body to the side.

“Please, don’t-!”

The vampire brought the pipe down with a tremendous clang onto Simon’s left hip and a crack shot through Simon’s pelvis. Simon shrieked as the pain lanced up his spine and down his legs like white hot fire. He had no time to process the hit before the pipe came down again, smashing into his femur with a crunch. Simon tried to curl up, to hide from the excruciating pain, to expel it through his mouth, but the next hit shattered his left shoulder blade. His existence felt like one unending screech of agony as he writhed on the concrete under Bowers’ merciless gaze. Bile rose in his throat and he gagged, desperate to fall unconscious, desperate for it to end. He couldn’t even form the words to beg. He could only breathe, scream, breathe, scream.

I don’t want to die.

I don’t want to die.

I don’t want to die.

“Fuck, you’re loud!” Bowers shouted over Simon’s ceaseless wailing, “Let’s see what we can do about that!”

He seized Simon by the neck and dragged him upright, his back against Bowers’ legs. This sent new waves of pain through Simon’s body as displaced nerves jostled against bone crushed against muscle. Bowers shifted his grip to Simon’s jaw, pulling his already screaming mouth open wider. He lifted the metal rod and shoved the end of it into Simon’s mouth, and pushed, the sharp metal edges tearing, ripping, scraping at the delicate tissue of Simon’s cheeks, his tongue, his throat, as Bowers forced the rod in further, not caring what damage he caused. Simon choked, on the rod, on the blood, on bits of flesh. His screams were finally stifled as he struggled to breathe. His arms flopped uselessly. His eyes rolled.

“Better,” Bowers grunted, “Much better.” He yanked the rod out, splattering blood, and dropped Simon back to the floor where he heaved and choked and spat out blood and chunks of his own throat. Gone was the screaming; now Simon could only agonizingly gag and wheeze.

Bowers raised the rod once more and brought it down on Simon’s right shoulder. Simon’s whole body jerked, but the only sound he made was a horrifying gurgle. He shouldn’t still be awake. He shouldn’t still be alive. It wasn’t fair, wasn’t fair, wasn’t fair. His brain reverted to primeval instincts: The danger is behind you. Crawl.

Simon dug his fingernails into the concrete and dragged himself, inch by inch, forward. It was the only thing he could do. Maybe, somehow, he could crawl away from the pain. Leave it behind.

Bowers stood back and watched Simon struggle, clawing at the floor until his fingernails broke. Going nowhere.

He laughed, and it echoed throughout the building.

BANG!

Matthew fired from where he stood by the door, gun raised and eyes full of fire. Bowers spun, his hand flying to his shoulder where blood burst from a bullet wound. He crouched and sprang back, taking shelter in an isle of shelves as another shot rang out. Matthew cursed and lowered his weapon, running forward towards Simon. Gina hung back, watching the room like a hawk. Matthew fell to his knees at Simon’s side.

Simon was lying face-down on the ground, silent and still. Blood seeped out of his mouth and bandages around his feet were stained red. Horribly dark and discolored blotches of skin peeked out from his t-shirt. His left leg lay at a sickening angle. Bruises littered his arms; his nails were cracked and bleeding.

“No, Simon…” Matthew reached out to touch him.

“Matthew, look out!” Gina shouted.

Matthew looked up and saw the vampire charging towards him, pipe raised, moving at an unnaturally fast pace. Matthew had just enough time to duck, and he felt the rush of air and heard a faint whistle as the pipe whizzed over his head. A second later and his brains would have been bashed in. Bowers kept sprinting past him, and shots rang out as Gina tried to hit him before he disappeared back into the stacks of boxes.

“Shit, he’s too fast, I can’t hit him!” she yelled.

Matthew stood, staring at the isle Bowers had disappeared into. He pulled his phone out of his pocket with a shaking hand.

“I need to call an ambulance now or it might not arrive in time - Gina!”

Gina turned in time to see Bowers making a run at her out of the stacks. She stood her ground, aiming and firing as he approached. Her shot landed in his chest, but he was unphased, and swung the pipe as he passed her. With no time left to dodge, Gina was hit squarely in the stomach and knocked to the ground. Her body convulsed as she dry heaved and gasped for the air that had been knocked out of her.

“Gina!” If she was down, Bowers would make his next blow a killing one. Matthew started to sprint over to her, but he heard inhumanly quick footsteps behind him. He started to turn but was hit squarely in the right arm.

“Ahhg!”

Pain erupted as his humerus snapped. His arm spasmed and his gun clattered to the floor. He stumbled and only caught a glimpse of Bowers as he vanished back into the maze of warehouse shelves. Matthew looked around wildly, at Gina, struggling to stand, at Simon, a mangled mess on the floor. He couldn’t protect both of them - he couldn’t protect either of them

Bowers was too fast.

Too powerful.

He was going to kill them.

Breathing hard through the pain, Matthew stuffed his phone back into his pocket and scooped up the gun in his left hand. Amber’s gun.

She wasn’t going to get there in time.

He heard Gina scream - a shriek of true fear, something he’d never heard from her before that poured ice down his spine - and he could only watch as Bowers flitted past her and knocked her from where she had just started to stand up back to the concrete with a horrible clang. She lay frighteningly still, a red gash at her temple. Bowers was already gone.

Matthew raised his weapon and spun around, frantically searching for Bowers. His right arm dangled, useless and excruciating. He heard footsteps, but in the large echoing building he had no way of pinpointing their location. They grew louder, faster, and Matthew pivoted to see Bowers rushing towards him, his eyes full of bloodlust and his knuckles white where they gripped the pipe. Matthew fired haphazardly, the first shot flying over Bowers’ shoulder and the second one hitting home in the center of his chest. Bowers finally stumbled, and instead of hitting Matthew with the pipe the vampire tackled him, pressing the pipe down over his throat. Matthew caught it with the heel of his good hand, still holding the gun, but was only able to resist the downward pressure for a moment before the vampire’s superior strength won out and the pipe pressed down on Matthew’s throat. Bowers held the pipe down with one hand and easily plucked the gun away from Matthew with the other, tossing it aside.

Matthew couldn’t breathe. He wheezed and reached up to claw fruitlessly at Bowers’ face. Bowers only smiled, baring his fangs, and bore down on the pipe harder.

“Not so tough now that you’ve been cured, huh?”

Matthew’s legs kicked uselessly against the floor. Bowers held him pinned there for what felt like an eternity. Matthew felt the air in his blood running out as his raised arm wavered and collapsed and his legs stopped moving. Spots filled his vision.

Suddenly the pressure lifted, and Matthew was able to suck in a stinging lungful of air. The relief lasted less than seconds, though, as the pipe was replaced by fangs. They sank into Matthew’s neck, and his chestful of air rushed out of him in a strangled cry. He was able to breath a little now, and movement returned to his limbs, but he could only wriggle and push at the vampire to no effect as Bowers fed, holding Matthew’s neck still with his teeth and his hands on Matthew’s shoulders.

Matthew had never been bitten before. It was expected to happen eventually in his line of work, but senior agents had always warned him: there’s no way of preparing for it.

There’s no way it won’t stick with you.

It’s slower than you think.

As Bowers leeched his vitality from him, Matthew found he could turn his head, ever so slightly, and look around. First to Gina, still motionless on the floor. Then over to Simon, his head in a pool of blood.

He could only be grateful he was dying among friends.

He began to feel cold, and dizzy. He lifted his hand to look at it: pale white and shaking. He could only hold it up for a second before it slumped to the floor. He refocused, as best as he was able, on Simon, who now looked very far away.

I’m so sorry. He couldn’t tell if he was thinking, or speaking, or just mouthing the words.

It shouldn’t have ended like this.

Not for you.

You deserved better.

I love you.

Bowers lifted away from him, and Matthew felt the blood run down his neck.

He must be done.

I must be dead.

Then he heard a horrible hacking cough. With great effort, Matthew rolled his head to look at Bowers.

The vampire was doubled over, clutching his chest, gagging and sputtering.

“No,” Bowers cried out, “No, no!”

He spasmed, and vomited up blood. He turned and screamed wordlessly at Matthew, spattering red. He heaved in a breath, and his own blood leaked out around his fingers where he pressed them to his chest.

“You poisoned me!” he wailed at Matthew, “Fucking turncoat!”

A smile crept over Matthew’s lips.

The cure.

It was in his blood.

It was turning Bowers human - and humans can’t survive two shots to the chest.

At least Matthew could die knowing the three of them had been avenged.

That Simon had been avenged.

His eyes drifted closed as sirens approached in the distance.

~~~

First, Previous, Next, Masterlist

Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy, @pigeonwhumps, @sunshiline-writes, @seasaltandcopper, @pirefyrelight

#whump #whump fic #whump writing #sunless lives #sunless lives arc 4 #cw negative self talk #cw beating #cw broken bones #cw attempted murder #cw torture #vampire whump #cw gunshots #vampire feeding #cw vomit #cw mouth whump

[ghostslut00]

I want soft monster sex.

A werewolf snuggling you close and licking your shoulder gently as you two wait for their knot to go down.

A vampire making sure your comfortable and shrouded by pillows and blankets before they lean down and bite your neck.

A manticore purring as you lay beneath it, their wings fluttering as they lay on top of you and slowly rut into you.

#ftm nsft #trans nsft #nsft #🥺 pls #monster fucker #monsters #werewolf #werewolf fucker #vampire #vampire feeding #manticore #manticores need more appreciation honestly

[nostalgiachan]

Blooddrunk

Thirtieth Prompt: A drunken night out

C/W: basically NSFW (vampire feeding GONE SEXUAL whoa wow), blood

Summary: Vier wants to take Astarion out for drinks, but remembers there's only one real way for him to get drunk. Good thing she's a cleric. (3,018 words)

---

It had only been two months since Vier had brought Astarion to her home in Dawnshire, but she could tell the provincial life was making him a bit antsy. While his nights in Baldur’s Gate had been an endless nightmare of blood and suffering, the fact remained that the hustle and bustle of the city was what he was used to. Eventually, she hoped he’d come to enjoy the comparative peace and quiet of small town life, but it would take time before his wild heart settled into it. What he needed in the meantime was a little excitement.

Perhaps, Vier thought, a night out on the town would do him some good. While much of the village was still rebuilding in the wake of the nautiloid attack, through sheer providence, the Golden Dew Inn had survived - not a particularly bawdy tavern, especially by Baldur’s Gate’s standards, but still a lovely place to spend an evening. They could head out, mill about town a while, get some drinks and–

Wait. Shit.

Did Astarion much care for drinking if it couldn’t get him drunk? And now that her mind was on the subject, how was he able to drink wine, anyway? She was certainly no expert on vampire biology, but to her knowledge, all food turned to ash and all drink to bile in a vampire’s mouth, thus the whole need to consume blood. Had that been why he’d always complained about perfectly good wines tasting like vinegar, or had he just been hard to please? And despite his attempts at drinking, the only time she remembered seeing him actually drunk was that night he’d exsanguinated a bear.

Planning a date would’ve been hard enough for Vier had Astarion been mortal; how did one go planning a date with a vampire spawn?

The memory of the night with the bear stuck around a bit longer than expected, and slowly, a question rose to the forefront of her thoughts: would she be able to replicate that effect with her own blood? How much blood did a bear have, exactly? Obviously, more than your average mortal, given the massive size difference. Even if she allowed Astarion to drain every last drop from her - a thoroughly idiotic notion, given she was not about to waste a truly hard-earned resurrection scroll on a flight of fancy, and she doubted that Withers (wherever he was) would summon her back if she ended up dead of her own folly - he still likely wouldn’t receive the same amount of blood.

But there was always her steadfast ally, the lesser restoration spell, wasn’t there? Casting it on herself had become almost as much a daily ritual for Vier as giving thanks to Lathander at each sunrise. Frankly, she was amazed Astarion hadn’t gotten tired of her taste yet, given how he indulged himself in her each and every night. She worked out a few more numbers in her head. By her estimation, she could lose about a liter and a half before she would need to cast the spell. Once she crossed that line, it would be much more difficult to focus on casting, and once she hit two liters, she was almost certainly a goner. She could cast the spell up to thrice, with short breaks between to allow time for the blood to regenerate, meaning she could give somewhere between four-and-a-half and six liters, all in all. Would that be enough?

As her mind lost itself in puzzling out the details, her body was left quite vulnerable as she sat on the couch in her office. Sensing this moment of weakness, a certain pale form was drawn to her side, quietly wrapping its cold embrace about her shoulders and startling her nearly out of her skin.

“Oh, dear,” Astarion cooed into her ear as he nestled his head against her left shoulder. “Someone looks deep in thought. Nothing’s troubling you, I hope?”

“No, no,” Vier quickly breathed as her pulse quickly evened out. “Just thinking, is all. Though now that you’re here, I wanted to float an idea your way.”

Astarion picked up his head to get a better look at Vier as she regaled him with the details. “Ooh, by all means, float on.”

As Vier walked him through the entire thought process, from the desire for a date night to the blood plan, a smile slowly crept across his face. “You know, I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to you being so sweet on me,” he finally said as she wrapped up her explanation, “but I do have one teensy concern. See, as much as I absolutely want this,” - his words positively dripped with desire - “are you sure you’re not going to hurt yourself? A bloodthirsty scoundrel I may be, but I’m not as alright with the idea of accidentally killing you as I used to be.”

Vier couldn’t entirely tell if he was joking with her. “I would hope you wouldn’t be alright with it at all, but we’ll get there one day, I suppose,” she grumbled with a grimace. “And about the only thing I’m sure of is that I want to try this for you. Worse comes to worse, I keep the resurrection scroll in a hidden drawer in my desk. I know you’ve already figured out how to pop that one open.”

With a tut and a pout, Astarion asked, “Have I really gotten that sloppy?”

“No, but I know you, dear,” Vier explained, “and I know you’ve probably rummaged through every container in my dormitory and at least half of those in the rest of the temple by now.”

“Aw, you really do know me,” Astarion said with a wistful sigh and a mischievous glint in his eye. “Promise I haven’t stolen anything, though; you took a great risk convincing your colleagues to let me stay here, and I swear I won’t do anything to get myself thrown out. On purpose, anyway.”

An opportunity presented itself, and Vier simply couldn’t pass it up. “You’re being a good boy?” she asked as her head leaned in just a touch, a sly smile crossing her face. Astarion responded in kind, leaning in even closer.

“Oh, I’m being a very good boy,” he hummed, his voice dropping dangerously low and quiet with each word.

“Which is why you’ve earned this little treat,” Vier replied. But just as Astarion could no longer contained himself and pressed in towards her neck, she put a finger to his lips to stop him. “Ah, wait, before you start.” 

If Vier didn’t know any better, she’d have thought the man had started panting with anticipation. His red-eyed gaze locked on her intensely as she pushed him back just a hair. “Do you think you can keep your feeding clean, or should I put down some rags? I’d rather my office not look like the infirmary when all’s said and done.”

“I’ll keep the feeding clean, I’m sure,” he breathed with impatience, “but I make no guarantees about the rest. Now, may I?”

Something about the way he asked flipped a switch in Vier’s mind. A warm blush spread across her cheeks, and her gut fluttered like it was their first night all over again. It was going to be a lot harder to focus if her mind was half turned to love-drunk mush. This elf truly did have an incredible power over her, didn’t he? The next word came out much weaker, much softer, much more submissive than she’d initially intended.

“Please.”

With a flash of a fanged smile, Astarion reached across Vier’s lap and guided her to straddle his waist. The moment she was mounted and ready, he threaded one of his pale hands into her sussur bark hair and pulled her throat down to his eager mouth. His plush lips pressed against the skin in a teasing kiss, as if he wanted to make her wait for what lay just behind them - as though he hadn’t already shown her just how much he wanted to dive right in. She wanted to roll her eyes and say, “Sweetheart, just get in there already,” but the familiar sensation of his teeth finally piercing into her neck stopped the words.

Vier braced herself against the top of the couch as Astarion drained the sweet crimson from her, the sound of his lewd swallowing filling her ears. She wanted to cling tightly to him, to grip him by his luxurious hair and pull him in more and more, but she needed to stay focused. She couldn’t let herself get lost in the feeling of her lifeblood blissfully ebbing away and the delicious pain of his fangs piercing deep.

But gods, was it hard. Vier’s pulse had already been set to racing purely by being wrapped in Astarion’s deathly cold embrace, making it difficult to gauge when it began racing due in greater part to the blood loss. The heat of her body seemed to rise and fall in equal measure as he drank deeply from her. Had he started drinking faster, or was that the illusion of her brain beginning to cloud over?

No, don’t lose focus now.

Vier recentered herself, slipping as she was into the haze. She lifted a hand from the back of the couch, and intoned the words, “Vincere est vivere”. This was Astarion’s cue to take a break for a moment, and to her slight surprise, he freed her from his hungry jaws, slumping back onto the cushions with a half-lidded look in his eye. Vier’s body followed, her head resting against his shoulder a moment as the blood quickly regenerated within her veins. Her breathing steadied, her mind cleared, and her body temperature evened out - though as her faculties returned, each would be sent into total overdrive.

Once her head stopped swimming, she simply couldn’t help herself from turning his face towards her and kissing him deeply, harshly, the acrid taste of iron filling her mouth as their tongues collided. It was almost embarrassing the way she loved how he killed her, little by little. She could feel his skin growing the slightest bit warmer to the touch, and a distinct movement beneath her let her know he was enjoying himself as much as she was. At that rate, they weren’t going to make it to the second round. But for the experiment’s sake, they needed to continue.

Vier pulled away, her breathing ragged, and moaned out, “Alright, keep going.” Astarion wasted no time obliging her, swiftly pushing back her hair and tucking in once more. Loudly, Vier whined as fangs once again met flesh and her blood became his. Though she should have kept herself braced, did everything she could to maintain awareness, she was getting far too into it now. Once more, her heart set to beating wildly in her chest, once more her mind was awash in a haze of confusion and arousal. She could feel his nails digging into the back of her neck and the base of her spine. She couldn’t tell which of the two of them started grinding against the other first, but both of them were greedily pulling at each other, wanting to sink deeper inside one another.

Astarion was moaning now, growling now, as he feasted upon Vier, and though he’d promised to keep things clean, he was beginning to grow quite messy. At first, only a trickle of blood escaped the confines of his lips. But then, the trickle grew into a stream which traveled down Vier’s chest, staining her white blouse a deep maroon. She could feel him start to pull away, intent on following the stream and catching what he’d lost on his tongue, but she kept her hand locked on the back of his head to hold him where he was - if he pulled out now, her blood could very well end up staining more than just her shirt.

Once more, the edges of Vier’s vision began to darken, and as much as every fiber of her form seemed to cry out for that sweet, final release, she needed to restore herself. Again, she raised her hand, and again, she spoke the words. But this time, her mind and body struggled to summon up the healing energies within. While they did find their strength at last, would she be able to do it once more, or would she be too far gone to pull herself back?

More importantly, would Astarion have the willpower to stop himself? Because with the second cast, he didn’t release Vier immediately. No, he seemed to clamp down tighter this time, desperate to take just a bit more before the positive energies coursed through her circulation and sent him reeling away with a sputter - for the days of being healed by healing magic were once again behind him. As he leaned back on the couch once more, a groan pouring forth from his blood-soaked mouth, Vier noticed something peculiar - the sclerae of his eyes had turned pitch black, a curious reaction.

“It’s funny,” Vier rasped, her breathing slowly growing less haggard as the restorative magic took hold again, “your eyes look just like mine now.”

“Do they, now?” Astarion asked, his words coming out in a relaxed drawl. “Then I must have some lovely eyes, indeed.”

With a tired laugh, Vier’s head slumped onto Astarion’s shoulder once more. His skin had begun to gain a blush of life, nearly as warm as her own. If she listened closely, she swore she could almost hear a faint thud somewhere within his chest. Her lips returned to his, the sanguine taste even more overwhelming now as her tongue delved deep within. 

“Are you ready for the last of it, my sweet,” Astarion moaned after their lips finally parted, “or are you going to make me beg?”

“Oh, I’m very tempted to, dear,” Vier chuckled dangerously, “but you did say you’ve been a very good boy, so I won’t keep your treat from you. I’m–”

The word “ready” had barely left her tongue before Astarion pounced upon her for the last time. Harder now, he bit into her, tighter now, his arms constricted her, as though he feared she could escape his clutches at any moment. Cries of pleasure echoed across the walls of the office, cries which Vier was far too gone to attempt to stifle now. She tried to snake one of her hands down into the infinitesimally small space between their legs to massage the mound which pressed against her, but her arms quickly grew weak with the speed of his feeding. Her mind struggled to remember her purpose, torn as her body was between sweet ecstasy and rapidly approaching death. Colder and colder, she grew, as more of her lifeblood fell from his lips and drenched them both. For a moment, she nearly forgot the words of the spell entire, and she was tempted to simply allow herself to go - she’d told Astarion where the scroll was, after all, and perhaps a little death wouldn’t be so bad?

No! She’d come too far to fail at the last hurdle now. One more cast was all she needed. Astarion would have an entire person’s worth of blood within him, he’d be happy, and they could go out and…do the thing…whatever she’d said she was going to do with him. What had it been? What was she even doing there? Why was she feeling so cold…

But just as Vier’s mind began to slip past the threshold, Astarion suddenly disengaged with a deep and thoroughly satisfied moan and a great shudder of ecstasy, and the feeling of her blood seeping out into the open air jolted her back into awareness. Though her arms felt heavier than stones, she raised a hand and strained to get the words out as the world turned to mist around her. “Vincere est…shit…Vincere est vivere!”

As he came to himself, Astarion pulled Vier back into a much gentler embrace, his hand delicately petting her head as it slumped against his shoulder yet again. “Oh gods, did we go too far?” he asked, his voice filled with a surprisingly genuine concern. “You’re alright. Please tell me you’re alright.”

“I’ll be fine, once all my blood’s back,” she sighed against his now quite warm skin. “Just, you know…give me a minute.”

Vier couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard Astarion sigh with relief. “Good, because I would feel just terrible if I was the only one feeling as good as I do right now.”

With a hint of a struggle, Vier pushed herself back up to look at him. Though he was still pale, his skin now held a healthy pink glow to it. His eyes had returned to their normal state, and he looked deeply, truly satiated in a way she’d never seen before.

“So, er…was it good for you?” she wearily joked, wiping the sweat from her still slightly clammy skin.

“Darling, aside from the bits where I was worried for your life, it was absolutely incredible,” Astarion replied, practically vibrating with excitement. “Look at me, I’m harder than adamantine and feel like I could fuck an orthon to death. You have utterly spoiled me tonight, my love.” “Oh, good, good. I think we’ll need to practice this whole process, because it was a bit touch-and-go for a while, but I’m glad the first attempt was a success. Say, erm…we can’t go out looking like this.”

For seemingly the first time, Astarion noted the fact they looked like they’d just gotten back from a visit with Bhaal - their clothes were absolutely soaked through, the couch was half-smeared, and a few splatters had even made it to the wall behind them.

“Oh…no, we certainly cannot,” he noted.

“So, I’ve got a bottle of Stagswift tucked away in my desk,” Vier continued. “What say we throw our clothes in the laundry, I polish off that bottle, and then you clean off all the blood you spilled on me, if you catch my meaning?”

“Darling, there is nothing I’d like more.”

#my writing #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #astarion x tav #astarion #named tav #drow tav #cleric tav #vier alurlssrin #vampire feeding

[the-succubabe]

#hellsing #hellsing manga #hellsing alucard #vampire #vampire anime #vampire manga #hellsing abridged #hellsing ultimate #vampire fangs #vampire feeding #fangs #vampire kin #vampirekin #vampires

[a-crumb-of-whump]

For the send a number and OC, I’m kinda bending the rules, but 18 (let them feed?) with Carlos and his old master? Whether from another pet or the master themself is up to you (also feel free to ignore this if it bends the rules too much)

Content: Vampire whump, blood, begging, collared, (self) degration, starvation, pet whump.

Hope this is somewhat what you were looking for!

-

“Look at you. You’re truly pathetic.”

On his hands and knees, Carlos begged as much as he could. “Please! I’m- I’m so hungry, sir. I’m trying to be good. I wanna be good. Please!”

Without even considering it, Master stepped forward and yanked on Carlos’ collar, forcing him off his hands to avoid choking. He brought them so close to each other that the vampire could feel his breath on his face, warm and what he presumed to be the smell of alcohol. Despite how disgusting he knew it was, he was so cold that it almost felt nice.

“Tell me what I want to hear again, pet,” he ordered, keeping his voice low. “Tell me without stuttering this time and perhaps I’ll consider showing you the mercy you seem to think you deserve.”

Carlos whimpered. “I-I’m a-“

Just like that, a hand came down on his face; slapping him so hard he would have lost his balance if it weren’t for the firm grip on his collar. He bit the inside of his cheek in an attempt to stop the cry that was threatening to spill, and let out a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry-“

“Again.”

“I’m- I’m sorry-“

Master’s hand came down on him again, harder this time. “Not that!”

Carlos let out a small, frightened sob.

“I’m a monster!” he finally cried, so desperate to get the words out before he could say something else that warranted another slap. “I’m a monster that can’t even scare people- can’t even do the one thing a monster should be best at, which is why I am here. So you can give me purpose – and I am grateful for all you do for me!”

Carlos knew he’d said the right thing when Master smiled at him and gave him a pet on the cheek – the same one he’d slapped twice not long beforehand. Despite himself, he let out a small breath of relief. He would degrade himself as much as Master liked if it earned him even a crumb of mercy in the long run.

“There’s a good pet,” he praised rather condescendingly. “That wasn’t so hard, now, was it? You gotta stop complicating things for yourself.”

The vampire enthusiastically nodded. “Yes, sir. I know. I’m sorry.”

He felt a little piece of his heart shatter the moment Master let him go and left the room. It was expected, but that didn’t mean there hadn’t been a tiny bit of hope flickering within him that maybe he’d be given food.

The man was only gone for a minute or two, much to Carlos’ surprise. When he finally returned, he had a medium-sized opened blood pack in one hand, which made him scramble to his knees in submission. He was going to be good. Now that the blood was so close to him, so close he could smell it, he knew he’d just about have a meltdown if it got taken away from him again.

He felt his heart stop for a moment when Master slowly tipped it onto the ground in front of him, drop by drop until it started soaking into his pants. Still, he didn’t move; keeping his head down to avoid making eye contact with him.

When he looked up again, Master was smiling – sadistic and wicked in a way he’d never seen from anyone else before. “Bon appétit, pet. I’ll be back to clean it up in five minutes, so don’t dawdle.”

The vampire lunged forward.

-

Send me a number and an OC!

#whump #whump stuff #whump things #whump thoughts #whumpee #whumper #pet whump #vampire whump #vampire whumpee #vampire feeding #whump scenarios

[sea-menace]

I recently learned that the victorians couldn't write about sex and stuff, so they came up with a monster that creeps into your room in the dead of night, crawls into your bed with you and cradles you like a lover would as they put their lips around your neck like a lover would before sucking from you something they can't live without

Vampire feeding is just sex, it's all it is

#vampire #victorian #vampire feeding #blood #writing

[clickerflight]

Lawnmowers are scary: Joseph Part 3

This is the last of what I have for this guy. I might write more because I did quite enjoy this story line but IDK

CW: Vampire whumpee, body horror, the horrors of growing back your body, left on the side of the road, lawnmower scare, we do get to see an actually decent person in this one though!

Taglist: @whumpsday

Part 1 : Part 2

......................................

Night came again and Joseph was back to growing. He could feel his consciousness fitting back into his body more and more, making him more and more aware as a skull formed, the brain growing every night. Joseph was not looking forward to being able to be completely aware of his body again. 

The 6th night out in the evening. He convulsed again, this time more painful and he sucked down his first breath of air as his brain kicked into gear. Joseph cried out softly, shivering as the cold became apparent, his limbs aching where they were supposed to be. He couldn’t see, his eyes still not formed. He only had one arm, the other one a stub that ended just before the elbow, and no legs to speak of. He sobbed, barely enough energy to keep breathing. He could feel the last of the energy granted by the blood injection trickle to a stop as he started to hear the things around him. He could hear small insects chirping and the occasional passing car. 

On instinct, he tried to drag himself forward with his one arm, but didn’t get anywhere. He sobbed again, opening his mouth with a half grown tongue, whispering for help, his words unintelligible. 

Sunrise came soon after.

Joseph determined that he was on the side of the road within the deep grass. It was dry and prickly against his skin and all he could really do was lay there and cry between naps. Without blood, his only energy came from sleep, but that wasn’t much with how much there was still to grow. 

Day came, bringing with it more sounds of cars. Joseph wondered how long he would have to be out here to be able to drag himself to the road in the hopes of getting help. He wondered if a blood moon would come along and give him strength soon. With his luck, he doubted it. David was the lucky one. 

Joseph heard heavy machinery start up, something that sounded like a heavy duty lawn mower. Horrified, Joseph realized that the prickly growth around him was dead grass and the lawn mower heralded the first step to keep fires from starting up on the sides of the freeway. 

And Joseph was hidden by the grass. He flinched as images of being torn apart by a lawn mower before the rider realized he was there flashed through his mind and that spurred some sort of adrenaline reaction out of his newly formed glands. He flailed in the grass with his arm, his fingers not even fully formed as he hoarsely cried out. 

“I’m here!” he said, trying to be heard, though he knew he wasn’t getting up loud enough to even possibly be heard by whoever was riding the mower. 

“Please,” he sobbed, his lungs aching from the effort. “Please, no, don’t hurt me. Please not again. I can’t do this again!”

The mower was deafening now and Joseph curled up as much as he could, putting his arm over his head as his body was wracked with sobs. 

The mower, like a blessing, stopped and was turned off so quickly he almost wondered if he had imagined the sound. 

An older man’s voice came to him with an empathic expletive and Joseph felt someone’s rough, warm hand between his shoulder blades. 

“Are you alive?” the man asked.

Joseph sobbed, shivering violently as he nodded and the man quickly patted his back.

“It’s alright there, I’m here. Uhh, I think I have a sterilization thing in my truck. I’m going to clean off my arm and I’ll be right back.”

Joseph couldn’t help the begging cry that escaped his throat and the man said, “I promise I’ll be right back, okay. Here.”

Joseph felt a coat drape over him and the man said, “Give me just a minute.”

The man disappeared and Joseph curled up under the coat, breathing quickly. His mind went numb in the face of being saved. 

The man was back. “Have you fed from someone before?” he asked gently, carefully levering Joseph into his lap.

Joseph nodded. “I took-took the classes.”

“Okay. Can, um, can I clean your teeth for you?”

Joseph opened his mouth and let his fangs flick down from behind his teeth and felt the man wipe off all of his teeth before putting his wrist to Joseph’s lips. Joseph concentrated, trying to remember what he had learned in those classes. He carefully licked the man’s wrist, tasting the alcohol there to clean it. He carefully bit down and started swallowing. He took a few swallows. He remembered that it was considerate to stop at three swallows, but when he tried to pull away the man said, “Do two more. You need it more than I do.”

Joseph gratefully did before pulling off, licking the wound closed. He gasped as more pain sprouted in his limbs as they started growing again and the man said, “I’m sorry man, this has got to suck. I called the police. They’ll be here soon.”

Joseph felt the rest of his tongue fill out as he said, “Thank you, thank you. I-I thought you were going to hit-hit me with the-with the…”

“I was scared too,” the man said. “I hope they find whoever did this to you, man.”

Joseph didn’t really hear anything else as his body decided that now was a good time for a factory reset. 

Part 4

#whump #vampire whumpee #body horror #vampire feeding #this man is not having a good time

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#gay vampire #vampire feeding #gay blood