1 | Vampire Servants

Dracula's coven had existed for centuries, growing gradually whenever the man had need of more servants. They were loyal beyond words, keeping to the shadows and tending to the ancient, giant castle. They cleaned, washed, tended to any livestock or plants. And when Lady Lisa had lived, they prepared meals for her– when their lord was too busy to do so himself, that is.

While the vampire Generals and their covens looked down upon Dracula's love for a human woman, they did not. While the others couldn't comprehend why the man would go so far for a “pet”, they knew why.

The others had never met Lisa Tepes. Hadn't spoken to the wise, kind woman, hadn't seen her with her husband and child, hadn't felt the warmth of her kindness and spent time with her. If they had, many of the servants believed they would've seen the same thing their lord had.

That humans were their equals, just different. That they weren't just mindless animals, that there could be more–

… but that didn't matter anymore. Not after she was burned while their lord was away, listening to her request. Not when the other vampire leaders simply joined the war just so they could reign over humanity and slaughter as they wished, uncaring for the woman who's name this was all done in. They'd likely forget that Dracula even had a wife within a few short years.

But they remember her. They'd always remember their lady and the joy she brought their lord and master.

And it was these memories that allowed all of Dracula's coven to slowly catch on to the existence of another human-vampire couple.

While none of them cared much for the other humans in the keep– Devil Forge-masters or not, they were still human and not anything like their lady– they still attended to them, kept their rooms tidy (if asked to do so), and provided food for them.

It was how they first discovered you, the only female among the forge-masters, had begun sharing your bed with another.

“I smelt it when I entered.” One of the female servants spoke, voice low as she and her brothers and sisters washed laundry; one might assume it would be beneath a vampire to do this, but they were in service to Lord Dracula, and so their place was obvious: to serve. “She had a man in her bed.”

Across from her, scrubbing at a bloodstained shirt, her coven-sister smirked. “Oh? Which of them was it, Isaac or Hector?”

“Hector is like a child,” another snorted. “I doubt he even knows how to fuck.”

The first to speak tsk’ed. “I never said it was sex I smelled. Just that her sheets stunk of another, like she'd lied in his embrace all night.”

A coven-brother wringed a shirt dry. “That still doesn't answer who it was.”

She rose, carrying the wet laundry over to the hot air vents, hanging them over it to dry.

“I know their scents, and it was neither.” She said, her brethren going silent with realisation. “Whoever it was, they were one of us. A vampire.”

From there, the whispers spread, all of them eager for a bit of entertainment, some levity to the gloom of the castle and stress of war.

They began keeping a closer eye on you, trying to figure out who it was. Which wasn't a very difficult thing to do.

Not when Godbrand of all vampires showed up in the kitchens, stag slung over his shoulder and ordering them to prepare it for you. Specifically.

A few looks were shared, realisation sparking in their eyes, and they got to work, lips pressed together until he left (with the food, carrying it himself! For a human!). Only then did they burst into whispers, excited to share this with the rest of the coven at dinnertime.

2 | Hector

Walking down the halls, Hector was lost in thought, minding his own business as he headed to his destination, passing by your chambers as he did. Yet as he approached the doors, a sound caught his attention, enough to make him pause and look through the gap in them.

His breath caught in his throat at what he saw, eyes going wide in shock.

Being the only humans here and all forge-masters, it would be a lie to say Hector didn't feel some companionship with you and Isaac. Even if it wasn't returned, he liked to think of the two as… not friends exactly, but close allies, at least.

It was them against all the vampires here, after all. Even if Lord Dracula wouldn't let anything happen, he still felt safer with you and Isaac than Chō or Raman or any of the others.

Yet as he stood there, Hector realised things might not have been as safe as he'd believed.

Because there, in the middle of the room, pressing you against your workstation was Godbrand, the Viking holding you still against him, one hand holding your head to the side as his fangs sunk into your neck, taking slow, greedy gulps of your blood.

You let out another sound, breathy and pained, clutching at the vampire's back, nails digging in yet doing nothing to stop him.

Hector didn't know what to do, whether to rush in like some foolhardy knight or call for Dracula to stop him. It didn't matter though, as he was frozen in place, worried sick for his fellow forge-master yet unable to move his feet from fear.

Yet… the longer Hector watched, the more he felt something was up.

Within the room, Godbrand leaned his head against yours, temple to jaw, one hand stroking up and down your back. Soothing. One of your hands moved upwards, gripping him by the hair and pulling a low, rumbling growl from the feeding vampire. Your lips parted silently, eyes fluttering as you leaned back, tipping onto the metallic table you forged night creatures on.

Godbrand moved with you, slowly laying you on it as he pulled back, gently licking your neck and closing the wounds.

Hector felt oddly uncomfortable, swallowing dryly. He knew vampires had some sort of healing factor in their venom. He'd just… never seen in used before. Practically thought it myth because why would a vampire ever heal a human? Usually, vampires just drained them dry.

Then, as if the brutish vampire's gentleness wasn't odd enough, he saw through the gap as Godbrand fetched you water, holding your head up and tipping the goblet at your lips, helping you drink. You did so greedily, gripping Godbrand's wrist, not to stop or push away, but… just to hold.

Stepping back quickly, Hector snapped out of his daze, both confused and fascinated by the intimate display. With another glance towards the doors, he turned, quickly walking away as quietly as he could.

Yet during that brief glance, he swore he saw Godbrand begin to feed you food.

3 | Isaac

After the life he'd lived, Isaac did not really believe in love.

Love was cruel and cold and only brought hurt– whether through cruelty or loss, as he'd witnessed both at the hands of his old master with his lies of affection and then when Lord Dracula became a shell of himself, filled only with grief and hurt after his wife's murder.

For him, love only brought pain. It was like some distant fairytale, but one he'd never heard of himself, only secondhand by those who'd felt it. He doesn't understand it either, he thinks, simply unable to comprehend how anyone could.

To bear ones heart, to open themselves up like that; to let another close, be vulnerable…

Isaac isn't sure he can understand it.

And yet, he witnesses just that after heading down to the bathhouse at the lower levels of the castle. Here the water boils to an almost unbearable degree, perfect for vampires– but also humans who ran cold or simply preferred the sting of heat.

There are multiple pools for bathing, two large ones separated by a wall for both sexes, then smaller ones scattered around, some open and visible to each other, others hidden.

Isaac has no shame of his body or of being seen bathing, having grown up doing so with other slaves. So without any fanfare, he undresses, back still sore and scabbed over from earlier, and sweaty from hours of constructing night creatures.

He hears them as he does, only pausing for a moment as his ears pick up on the sound of splashing and low voices. Distant. Hidden, tucked away in one of the private pools. Ones usually used by lovers or close friends.

He dismisses it, continuing to undress before slipping into the steaming water, wiping his face clean with it. Cleansing.

As he washes silently, he catches a few things.

“… always complaining about the same shit…”

“Stay still… if he does that, why do you still bother…”

A splash, then a startled gasp. A sharp, wet smack. “Don't –! Let me… bloody dog!”

A bark of laughter follows the barely decipherable words, Isaac’s brow creasing as he recognizes that tone.

Godbrand.

But who was bathing with that animal?

Unable to deny his curiosity, he moved to the other side of the bath, listening closer.

As he listened in, heat sapping the stress from his body, Isaac caught more of the conversation. It wasn't anything noteworthy, just casual conversation– Godbrand complaining about the other vampires, then mentioning he'd go hunting later– “And I'll bring you back something. Have you ever had wolf meat? I'll get you one to try.”– and then complaining about Carmilla specifically, going on a long tangent about her that Isaac mostly blocks out.

But finally, Isaac picks up enough of that tone and voice to recognize it, brows jumping in surprise as he hears you tell Godbrand to tilt his head back, the sound of pouring water reaching his ears.

“I thought running water…”

“Think it has to be a large body of… baths or rain don't do anything…”

Hmm.

Slowly, Isaac gets up, exiting the bath, water dripping down his form as he dries off and dresses, contemplating what he'd just heard.

You and Godbrand. Bathing together. Naked like lovers, washing like lovers. He could barely conceive it.

While he and you weren't close, he never imagined you pairing with the loudmouthed viking. Or anyone, for that matter. It was simply something Isaac didn't think about.

Once again, Isaac couldn't comprehend it, this “love”. Was it even love, or just companionship? Two people taking pleasure in each others bodies? Regardless of whether it was love or just sex, he didn't get how it happened, how it could work.

Did you not fear Godbrand ripping into you? Sucking you dry when all was over? Did he not worry about you either? Human you may be, but you still had magic, could stake or burn him if you ever wished, ever felt threatened.

It all seemed so… dangerous, so foolish. How could either of them trust each other? And that wasn't even mentioning how Godbrand would outlive you unless he turned you.

It just… didn't make sense to the forge-master. So he stopped trying to make sense of it.

Love, real or fake, good or bad, just didn't make sense to a man who'd been beaten just for feeling it.

4 | Vampire War Council

After a few centuries of life, vampires all tended to change.

Whatever humanity they had left in them faded, morals disappearing like ash in the wind. Though what morals could they have, when their primary food source was humans? When they'd outlive every other person around them, when they were likely guaranteed a spot in hell regardless of what else they did, simply because of their new race and how they fed?

And so they changed. Growing older, colder, more cruel; playing with humans like toys and pets, using them however they wished.

What was killing to a vampire, when just having a meal led to it? What was torture or rape when the years passed by and nothing mattered to them anymore, when all they had left was power– power and defenceless little livestock unable to do anything to resist?

Maybe some of them had already been like this even before they turned. Theirs was a cruel world after all, ripe with all sorts of evil.

Religious wars followed by executions and torture to any who refused to believe in their conqueror's god; young girls forced to wed their rapists, the law calling it “just”; the slave trade that happened all over, people stolen from their homes and families to be forced into servitude to others. All this and more happened every day all over the world, and would continue to happen long after they passed– whether by being killed or perhaps finally reaching the limit of their seemingly immortal lifespan. Who really knew? It wasn't like any of them had been given a guide to vampire biology. Only their own experiments and experiences told them anything.

All of this to say that vampires changed and become cruel and cold and lost most of who they once were.

Yet sometimes, sparks remained. Sometimes, flickers of their old self would resurface, shining through.

Sometimes, Chō remembers the simpler days of her past, and indulges in those old pleasures. On those days, her human court relaxes, only having to play music or dance or recite poetry for their captor.

Or Raman and Sharma would leave their palace to race along the gardens or by the river, narrowly making it back in time before the sun rose, just about recalling what it felt like to play beneath the sun.

Monsters they might've become, but somewhere deep within still lied flickers of humanity.

And those flickers were enough to notice how their fellow General began to change, enough to notice the subtle looks and closeness between a vampire and a human, and recognize it for what it was.

Typically, vampires dismissed anything to do with humans unless they were a Belmont or powerful sorcerer– which youwere, but you weren't actively a threat, so to the back of all their minds you went. Yet something about these interactions caught their attention anyway.

Once, during a hunt into a nearby village, Zufall had been feasting on the fresh corpse of a woman, cradling her tightly, almost tenderly, her head limp over the bend of his arm and face frozen in terror as he drank greedily.

From the corner of his eye, the German vampire spotted movement, turning his head slightly to watch Godbrand approach the base of a tree, ferns and weeds growing around it.

Mouth still dripping with blood, his fellow General tilted his head, squinting in thought. Then, noticing Zufall was watching, turned and pointed his thumb back at the weeds.

“Hey, do you know if these flowers mean anything?”

Zufall blinked. 

What?

Slowly, finished with feeding, he pulled back, dropping the body and wiping his mouth with a handkerchief.

“Godbrand, those are weeds.”

The Viking paused. Turned to look at the blue flowers. Then shot Zufall an annoyed look.

“No they aren't. They're pretty and colourful and shit.” He waved half aggressively. “They're flowers.” He insisted, making Zufall sigh and pinch his brow.

Regardless of the fact this was stupid and they were, in fact, common weeds; why the fuck was Godbrand interested in flowers of all things?

“They're–” he took an unnecessary breath, muttering a German curse under his breath. “It's a common chicory.” He explained, recognizing the blue plant. “And I don't know what meaning it has. It's a weed. It can be eaten, though.”

Godbrand listened along, eyeing the blue flowers. Then, with a nod, knelt and began yanking them out by the roots.

Zufall just watched for a moment before shaking his head and seeking out the others, done with Godbrand's… Godbrand-ness.

Later, on the ride back to the castle, Godbrand would do so while clutching the wildflowers, trying to make them look better as he wrapped some stolen cloth around the stems. The others just watched on in confused mirth.

(Sometime later, one of Zufall’s men would mention– after Zufall himself brought up Godbrand’s odd actions from that night– that he'd spotted the bundle of chicories in the female forge-master’s chambers while passing by.

How curious.)

Zufall wasn't the only one to witness the brash vampire acting out of character, though, as during one cold, wet night– air thick with moisture and the smell of wet earth filling the air, Chō went for a walk with one of her attendants, a younger vampire she'd recently turned (and by recent, she meant within the last three decades).

There, as she did a slow tour around Dracula's castle, she spotted Godbrand sitting on a stump, a piece of wood in hand and carving at it.

Or trying to, at least. It didn't seem to be going very successfully.

Tilting her head, Chō approached after a moment of thought, greeting Godbrand in Japanese.

“I don't understand you.” He said, annoyed and focused.

She knew he wouldn't. She just liked messing with others however she could.

“Good evening, Godbrand.” She said in English, eyeing what he was doing. “That is a very nice…” She genuinely had to pause, squinting as she tried to decipher what he was making. “Horse?”

Godbrand stopped, then with a growled sigh, said, “It's a dragon, you misty bitch.”

Not taking any offence to his words, she tilted her head.

“It doesn't have wings.” She pointed out.

Godbrand just scowled. “Yeah, well, I messed up and forget them!” He snapped. “It just– they were chopped off by some hunter, okay?! There, reason given! Now screw off and let me carve in peace.”

Holding her hand up to her mouth, she laughed softly, polite; turning, she walked away, her attendant following, having been a silent witness to the entire thing.

“Aki,” Chō said after turning the corner, well out of earshot of her fellow vampire, “Would you mind finding out what Godbrand does with that carving later?”

“Yes, my lady.” Aki said, then, after a moments hesitation: “May I ask why?”

Chō delicately shrugs.

“He seemed quite focused. And I've never known him to carve anything that wasn't a handle for a weapon, a shield, or a part of a boat before.” She glanced back despite no longer being able to see him. “I am merely curious, is all.”

(A few nights later, Aki would follow Godbrand to your forge, witnessing him presenting you with the rather shitty dragon carving, yet you loved it anyway, even giving him a kiss for it.

When Chō heard this, she grinned, ordering her coven to keep an eye out for more of these interactions.

What? She'd always enjoyed the theatre, and this was as good of a show as she'd get around here.)

Then, whilst preparing themselves a blood soup in the kitchens (doing it themselves because none of the cooks here knew how to make it properly and they hadn't thought to bring any coven members who knew how to either), Sharma and Raman witnessed the now regular (not that anyone outside of Dracula's coven knew it was) occurrence of Godbrand dragging in a fresh kill, skinning it and cutting it open before handing the meat over to be cooked.

As their soup bubbled and cooked, the smell of spiced blood mixed with vegetables and melted chicken filling the air, the twin vampires silently stared at Godbrand whom stood with his arms crossed, not looking at them– his attention solely on the two servants preparing the venison.

Sharing a look, the Indian duo both wondered what he was doing.

While vampires could eat normal food, they rarely did. Usually only as treats or mixed with blood– like they were doing right now.

But as the meat was cooked and mixed with rice and a spicy smelling sauce, not a single drop of blood was added to the mix.

How odd.

Then, once the meal was done, Godbrand took the offered tray and left. Just like that. Without even looking at them.

Sharma shared a look with Raman, silently conversing. They might've thought more on it if their meal hadn't finished cooking, serving themselves and going to eat outside under the stars.

There–

“We're not the only ones who had this idea.” Raman says, looking up.

Following her gaze, Sharma saw Godbrand and– was that the female forge-master? It was. They were sat on one of the balconies, sharing a meal.

“Ah,” he said, smiling a bit, “isn't that sweet.” He murmured, enhanced vision allowing him to see every little detail: you cupping Godbrand’s cheek, thumb wiping a trickle of blood from his lips; the Viking encouraging you to eat more, holding a forkful to your lips, which pulled up into a loving smile.

Raman tilts her head. “It is…” She murmurs, brows furrowed.

Humming, she looks away from the sickeningly sweet sight, sipping from her bowl.

Sharma does the same, both of them giving the couple privacy ignoring the two up top, enjoying the starry sky and a warm meal.

5 | Carmilla

The problem with arriving late to something is that typically, the latecomer would miss out on certain things. Depending on their destination and what it was for, they could miss out on happy moments between friends, entertaining gossip, or in this case, potential blackmail material for one's devious schemes.

So when Carmilla arrived months after she was summoned, she was completely and utterly unaware of certain… events, of how loyalties had shifted; unaware that Godbrand would no longer sniff after her like a horny dog, but would instead be locked onto another, one to whom his loyalty ran much, much deeper than it ever did to her.

For as much as Carmilla liked to believe in her own self-importance and saw others as just things to be used, in her arrogance and power she forgot that others could do the same to her. And to Godbrand, she'd been nothing more than a pretty face and a willing body.

So when she walked into the hall confidently, she was completely and utterly unaware at the time that Godbrand would not be the “simple-minded bastard” she always saw him as. That when she tried to gain his allegiance– through a sultry smile, a coy offer, or through intimidation attempts– she'd fail, and fail miserably.

During those first few days, as she got the lay of the land, so to speak, she missed some key details– details that the others had picked up on, but didn't speak about, didn't see any reason to mention. And why should they? Whatever their fellow vampire was doing with Dracula's forge-master was none of their business.

But Carmilla did not pick up on these details– not fully at least. She made the mistake of assumption.

When Carmilla first laid eyes on them, Dracula's forge-masters, she'd only seen humans at first. Weak, unimportant humans. Yet despite that, they could be of use to her. Having night creatures under her control would be something, after all.

So she started with Hector, acting sweet and charming, coaxing the naive man to her side little by little.

She knew Isaac probably wouldn't budge from Dracula's side, so dismissed him entirely, instead turning her attention to you.

You, who stank of Godbrand up close. You, who were the only human female amongst all these dangerous men.

It was easy for Carmilla to assume things. That Godbrand, pig and brute he was, had taken what he wanted, that you, a weak and defenceless human, hadn't been able to say no, to fight him off.

It wouldn't be out of character for the man, being a viking and all. She knew what men were like. Powerful, old, mad men; taking what they wanted from women weaker than them, whispering false promises to make them sweet and submissive, only to stab them in the back afterwards.

So when she approached you, she played the role of a concerned woman, trying to relate to you and offering her sympathies for the cruelties you'd endured here all alone.

“Thank you for the concern, but it's very unnecessary, Carmilla.” You responded calmly, focused on your work, forge weapon glowing and emitting an unsettling aura. “As hard as it may be to believe, Godbrand hasn't laid a hand on me since we met.”

The vampiress pauses, recalibrates. Then, she sidles up beside you, trying a slightly different approach by resting a hand on your arm, a soft, sad look on her face.

“He hasn't yet.” She said in a saccharine tone mixed with worry, caressing your arm as you looked into her eyes. “Men like Godbrand play nice for a while, my sweet, but once he's gotten what he wants from you–”

Her words cut off with a quiet gasp as you wrench back, weapon held to her throat. Nearby, the previously silent night creatures you had helping you tensed up and growled.

“Do. Not.” You spoke quietly, eyes cold as you glared. “I don't know what you're doing, but I don't appreciate it. In all the months Godbrand has been here, he's never once harmed or scared me. Do not badmouth him around me.”

Holding her hands up, the vampire backed away, heels clacking in the silent room.

Her look of concern completely gone, she instead gave you a searching, calculating look, trying to figure out what she'd missed. How had she misread things? It seemed so obvious to her what had been happening. But could she truly have been wrong?

(Blinded by rage and hurt and arrogance, Carmilla of Styria would never once consider the truth– blinded by her own experiences and her hatred, she probably wouldn't even be able to conceive the very simple truth.

That despite everything she knew about the brutish, old, dumb man, Godbrand genuinely cared for you.

And you cared for him.)

So she tried a different approach.

“I was like you, once,” she said, slowly walking around the forge, trailing her fingers along its surface. “Young and blinded by affection…”

Then she told you about her own past, about the vampire who turned her and promised her the world, only to lock her up and restrict her, using her as a pet, mad with delusions and hurting her until finally, she killed him and took control.

As she finished, Carmilla gazed out the window at the setting moon, giving you a moment to digest the story. Yet, when she turned around, all she saw on your face was anger and annoyance.

Internally, she snarled. Just how hard was it to get to you?!

“That's a lovely story, Carmilla, and I'm sorry you went through that.” You said, grabbing a cloth to wipe your weapon clean.

“But?” She asked coldly, approaching until she stood across from you, only the workstation standing between them.

You laid your hands on the table, simply looking at her for a long, silent moment– so long in fact that she began to grow unsettled, well aware you were a magic user and she was surrounded by night creatures.

And that Dracula was nearby.

“But I think you've allowed your past to blind you.” You say slowly, not blinking as you held her vampiric gaze. “You talk about cruel, mad, old men, and yet… you know what I see when I look at you?” You leaned closer, voice lowered. “A cruel, mad, old woman. One so blinded by what happened to her she doesn't realize she's going down the same path, that she's just the same as the thing she hates most in this world.

“Now, get the fuck out of my forge, Carmilla. I've had enough of your games.” And with that, you turned away, turned your back to a vampire and approached the pile of corpses, looking them over and completely forgetting about her.

If vampires could blush, her face would be scorching. Glaring, Carmilla snarled, having half a mind to–

One of the night creatures, a beast with a maw full of sharp teeth and far too many limbs, rattled a warning her way, and Carmilla fled, fuming that her plan had failed.

Days later, she'd get her answer when she and Hector walked the halls together and went past your chambers as they did. From within, they heard Godbrand and you laughing, singing together.

A peek inside showed the Viking trying to lead you through some barbaric dance, singing some native song or another as you laugh and spun with him.

The sight shocks Carmilla dumb, barely able to trust her eyes.

“Hector…” She whispered after they continued on, the sounds of merriment echoing behind them. “Is that a normal occurrence?” She asks, brows knitting in thought. Had she ever seen Godbrand so… so soft before?

At her side, the human hummed. “Perhaps. I mean, I've seen them do other things, but the dancing and singing is certainly new.”

She looked at him in surprise, beginning to realize why her tactics had failed so completely.

It was just like Dracula, she thought. Godbrand had become soft for a human and you felt the same.

She truly was surrounded by mad, powerful men and their weak, human women.

+ 1 | Dracula

Sitting in front of the fireplace, head bowed and resting in his hand, Vlad Dracula Tepes stared into the flames, utterly numb. He didn't even feel the pangs of hunger or the heat of the fire, so deep and all consuming was his grief.

Just emptiness. Just void.

All he cared to do now was make the world feel as he did, like nothing. Just anguish and misery.

Deep down, the count knew it wasn't right, knew that not everyone deserved to die because of the actions of a few, but…

He just didn't care anymore.

No, all he wanted was a world without humans, without vampires, without anything…

Just silence.

Just silence and him, locked in this tomb until he finally fell as well and reunited with his wife in the afterlife. He could only hope she'd forgive him someday for it all.

Pulled from his thoughts by the sound of footsteps, Dracula lifted his head as you walked to stand before him.

“You called for me, Lord Dracula?”

Eyeing you for a long moment, Vlad thought about all he'd heard of the past few months. Little by little, he picked up on the little secret you kept, though not very well, considering practically everyone knew about you and Godbrand by now. They just didn't bring attention to it, didn't speak of it above hushed whispers.

He considered you, his forge-master, one of three whom had agreed to work for him and wipe out your own species. For a long, long moment, he just looked at you, something rising past the numbness and grief.

“I'm aware of your dalliance with Godbrand.” He finally spoke, watching your jaw twitch, expression forcefully kept blank. He raised a hand as he heard your heartbeat quicken. “Do not worry. I am not going to punish you.”

You swallowed, glancing aside briefly, nervously.

“Then… why am I here, my lord?”

Why, indeed.

Leaning back in his seat, Dracula turned his head to look upon his wife's visage, a ripple of pain so strong it could cripple a man going through him as he did.

“Merely to talk.” He said, still looking at her painted smile.

“I have known Godbrand for a very long time. And in all that time, he has only shown himself to be a brute. An animal. He raids, pillages, tortures, and rapes.” He states bluntly, now looking at you. “Even before he turned, he likely did the same. All becoming a vampire did to him was enhance his ability for cruelty.”

Quietly, you claps your hands together. “I'm aware, my lord. I know what men are like. I know what powerful men are like. And I know what vampires are like. They all see my kind as cattle, take joy from our misery.”

“And yet you are still with him.” He points out, truly wondering what you saw in a vampire like Godbrand.

Then again… what had Lisa seen in him? Hundreds of bodies on spikes outside his doors, with a reputation that went back centuries.

Yet she hadn't cared. Had seen the man in him beneath the bloodshed and power.

Perhaps, in a way, you were like his wife, able to see what others did not.

“I am.” You say, voice just above a whisper, gaze distant as you looked down. “Godbrand is… crude and cruel and many other things, but… he makes me laugh.” You admit, meeting his gaze, vulnerability shining in them. “So much of my life has been miserable, my lord, filled with fear and anxiety. In the past six months alone I have felt more joy than I have in my entire life.

“And Godbrand tries to make me happy. He's not just being himself idly and making me happy in the process. He– he brings me flowers ripped straight from the ground and keeps trying to give me gifts– even making some. They're shitty, but I love them.”

Something within his aching heart softened.

“You love him.” He states, eyes falling shut. He can almost feel his wife's touch, recalling how she'd touched him with kindness and acceptance without a hint of fear.

There's a smile in your voice when you speak.

“I do.”

There it is. There was his answer, what he'd been wondering this entire time.

How fascinating, that even in the middle of so much bloodshed and grief, love could bloom.

He envied it. He truly did. What he wouldn't give for one more day with his Lisa…

Which is why he opened his eyes and stood, looking down into your eyes.

“You have my permission to leave with him after this is all done.” He said, promised. At your look of surprise, he offered as much of an understanding look as he could, the void pulling him in once more. “You have served me loyally since you came here. Afterwards… after it is all said and done… go with him and live your life.” Then his gaze hardened. “And do not come back.”

Dracula wasn't sure just how far he'd get in this war, but he knew by the end of it, at least Wallachia would be gone, overrun with monsters of the night with not a human in sight. A graveyard for his love.

You nodded, bowed, and left, leaving him alone once more.

Though not for long. Because as requested, Godbrand showed up, sauntering and posturing in that way of his.

Just what did you see in him?

“You called, Dracula?” Godbrand asked, leaning against the wall. It almost makes Vlad huff, just about amused by the little vampire’s gall. Nobody else he met could ever be as arrogant as Godbrand, that was for certain.

“Yes. I won't ask what your intentions are with my forge-master, Godbrand, as they are quite obvious.” He paused for a second, a flicker of delight filling him at the momentary look of shock and then worry on the viking’s face. “But I will ask what you plan to do after.”

Godbrand blinked. “After?”

“After the war. After I have no more need of her. What will you do, Godbrand?” Dracula wished to know. Because if Godbrand left you afterwards, if you were but a thing to play with whilst here…

The silence barely lasted a few seconds, Godbrand crossing his arms and shrugging his shoulders.

“I was thinking to take her back with me. Keep her as my woman. Maybe try and make a child.” He said offhandedly, yet decisively; like it was obvious and already decided. “Turn her, if she wants.”

That makes Dracula pause.

“And if she doesn't?” He asks, because Lisa hadn't wanted to change. He'd tried convincing her, but she wouldn't be able to do what she wanted if she was a vampire, and so had refused him each and every time.

Sometimes, being a vampire wasn't worth it.

And you'd lose your devil forging powers if you were turned. Dracula couldn't imagine you'd be fine with that.

Godbrand simply shrugs again. “She’s, what, twenty-something? That's another fifty or so years. I'll take it.” He says, looking around as though bored. “Maybe we'll figure something else out in that time.”

It was nothing dramatic, no declaration of undying love and loyalty. But what could he expect from Godbrand? Honestly, this was far more than he'd ever expected.

Because beneath the casual and awkward words was care. Affection. Love. Godbrand meant every word and that– thatDracula would accept.

Turning back to the flames, Vlad shut his eyes and dismissed the general.

“You may go now, Godbrand. Though try not to let this relationship distract you from your duties.” He said, listening to the other vampire leave after a second, footsteps light and fading as he exited the room, leaving Dracula to his thoughts.

Despite himself, despite everything, deep down a part of Vlad wished you and Godbrand the best, that neither of them would experience what he had. He couldn't imagine what Godbrand would do should you die before your time.

Madness, most like, go out in a blaze of glory in your name, set himself alight. Something bloody and dramatic. Godbrand was definitely the type.

With a deep, soul weary sigh, Dracula opened his eyes and continued staring into the flames, wondering if he should just end it right now. Throw himself and let the great Dracula burn in common flames and finally be with his wife again.

No.

Not until all of Wallachia was gone. Not until… until…

Godbrand just loved making a wreck out of his woman.

Pulling back a bit, Godbrand stared up at you with half-lidded eyes, pupils dilated and sclera glowing an eerie gold. He licked his lips nice and slow, gathering the smeared blood and slick and swallowed it down with the rest of his meal. His hands kept your thighs spread nice and wide, stopping you from shutting them from overstimulation.

He watched you for a moment, drank in your wrecked expression, eyes hooded and lips parted, skin hot all over as you stared back, needy and wanting. Your eyes flicked down, a whimpery noise escaping you, silently pleading with him.

And who was Godbrand to deny you? Especially when you gave him such a tasty treat.

Leaning back in, he suckled on your sensitive clit once more, pulling a startled wail from you before you quieted yourself, nervously glancing towards the shut doors. He didn't care how loud or quiet you were, just as long as he was allowed to do as he liked.

“Godbrand–” you nearly choked on your words as he moved lower, tongue slipping between your puffy folds and into your tight opening, swallowing up the bloody slick dripping out of you. “You need to– oh fuck– hurry! You have a meeting in ten minutes.”

“Don't rush me.” He mumbled against your cunt, nosing at your clit as he licked up your split, coaxing more of your period blood out; with each orgasm, your muscles contracted and pushed out more and more blood, emptying out your uterus. “I'm nearly done anyway. Just one more.”

Your head tipped back as he doubled his efforts, tonguing deep into your pussy, sucking on your hole until your legs quivered on his shoulders. You laid flat on your worktable, gripping the metal edges and moaning out loudly, failing to stifle your cries.

Godbrand wishes he'd taken a human lover before. Or at least a pet. He'd never known a woman's moonblood could taste so appetizing. Or that it would actually fill him up– not as much as normal blood, but it was a close thing. Definitelyenough to keep him sated on a bad day.

But he's glad he at least had you to show him the light. He'd already wanted to fuck you from the first moment he saw you, he just hadn't expected you to reciprocate so eagerly. Nor had he expected you to be so dirty.

Apparently, you always got horny on your monthly, and found that orgasming a lot could make it end faster. And with Godbrand being a vampire, you'd figured he'd be interested.

Now, Godbrand was hardly one to kneel for just any woman and lick her cunny, nor was he completely against doing it. He just didn't do it often.

But since you and him were… somewhat together, he'd figured hey, why not? Plus, the mention of blood had intrigued him. He'd always wondered what it tasted like anyway, he just… hadn't found a woman he wanted to taste from like that. He was hardly about to lick some peasant woman's cunt, now was he?

Yet the second you'd lied down and spread your legs Godbrand swore he glimpsed Valhalla.

You'd given yourself a wax so hair wouldn't get in the way, which he understood– blood stained hair could get so nasty– and it allowed him a full view of your weeping hole, blood dripping out like some lewd treat stuffed with jam.

From that very first lick, Godbrand was gone. Mindless. Ravenous. He didn't let you go until he'd wringed a dozen orgasms out of you and no more blood came out. You'd been limp, crying weakly, tired yet satisfied.

After that, it had become a monthly ritual, Godbrand keeping track of your cycle and sticking to your side damn near all throughout it until he'd wringed the very last drop from you.

It worked for both of you. You both had fun, Godbrand got a delicious treat, and you didn't have to deal with a period while you worked.

Keeping an ear out for the clock off to the side, Godbrand continued supping on your cunt, claws digging into your thighs. Beneath his pelt and within his trousers, his cock throbbed, untouched and leaking. But he left it; if he barely had time for this, he wouldn't have time to stuff you and get his own.

But it was fine. After the meeting, he thought. The wait would be torturous but the relief would be almost as sweet as his woman's blood slicked cunt.

Just as he heard the minute hand tick for the tenth time, you peaked, letting out a tired, over-sensitive cry as you flooded his mouth with your bland cum, no more blood left to give. He still licked it up, though, giving your poor little nub a soft swirl of his tongue just to tease before standing, staring down at you with predatory hunger.

You blinked heavily, smiling weakly for a brief moment before it fell from exhaustion.

Godbrand just patted your knee, fetching a cup of water and leaving it besides you before heading off, leaving you to rest.

Down the halls he went, using his vampiric speed to reach the meeting room, the other generals already gathered.

“Godbrand,” Hector greeted calmly, “How nice of you to join us.”

Dragoslav scoffed, arms crossed. “About time too.”

Casually sauntering over to the large table covered in maps, Godbrand just raised his hands and shrugged.

“I was a bit preoccupied.” He simply said, licking his lips, grinning at everyone's disgusted looks.

“You pig.” Raman muttered, pinching between her eyes. “You give vampires a bad name, acting like a wild animal!”

The insult slid off of the Viking with ease, Godbrand just continuing to grin, breathing deep, subtle breathes through his nose, able to smell you on his moustache. Thankfully, the scent of blood covered up any other scents.

“What, a man can't enjoy a nice meal?” He asks, wiping beneath his lip and sucking his thumb clean. It's enough to snap Carmilla’s already fraying temper.

Stepping into his space, the vampiress snarled, “Not when it stops us from being able to start the meeting, you stupid fucking bast–”

She stopped. Sniffed. Then reared back, giving him an absolutely disgusted look.

“You are the most vile man I've ever encountered, vampire or human.” She hissed, stepping back with delicate clacks of her heels, hand held over her nose like she was trying to escape something repugnant.

It was enough for Godbrand to burst into laughter, summarily annoying all the occupants in the room while also making more than one wonder just what Carmilla had smelled to have that reaction.

Despite the fact they were supposed to be planning a war, there wasn't much really going on. The other vampire leaders and himself gathered only once per day, every day, and even then not much was accomplished. Just lots of posturing. Which Godbrand did as well, he wasn't going to be a hypocrite and judge them for doing the same, but being who he was, he had experience with war, battles, plans.

What they were doing? Was nothing like it. The Viking had observed things for weeks, eyes straying to Dracula's silent, mourning form more than once, and after a while, realised what this really was.

Dracula didn't want to wage war on humans. He just wanted to wipe them out. Messy, chaotic, barely any planning– it bothered the warrior in Godbrand, but Dracula clearly did not care. He just wanted humanity gone for what they'd done to his wife.

Godbrand supposed he could understand it. In a way. He'd never been married, fucked many women, yes, but never took a wife, loved someone; he just hadn't been interested. But if he did? Oh-ho, he'd be fucking mad if his wife was taken from him and killed. He'd wipe out every human he came across before giving himself a proper death.

Which is how he knew that's what Dracula was doing. This wasn't war. It was suicide, and Dracula would take everyone else– human, vampire, beast– down with him.

Buuut since there was nothing Godbrand himself could do about it, he decided he'd spend whatever future there was left living his life as normal– or better, even. Eat good, have a few fights, build a massive fucking ship, fuck a lot; all of it and more.

Which is why the vampire was here, standing at your door.

Among the council, there were three humans, Dracula's Generals, all devil forge-masters capable of raising the dead as night creatures. And of those three, only one was female and pleasant company. You.

Godbrand is pretty sure he'd wanted to fuck you since he first laid eyes on you. You were a good looking thing, pretty in a... a dark way, garbed in that uniform and always playing with dead things. It was hot for a vampire, if also off-putting because, y'know, necromancy. Didn't stop him from wanting to put his dick in you, though.

Actually, it might've made him want to fuck you more. Your magic speaking to his undead nature or whatever.

It probably didn't help that all of the other women around– all vampires like him– told him to piss off any time he tried anything. So you were pretty much his only option to get his cock wet unless he wanted to use a random human. Which, ew, disgusting. He did not like fucking his food unless it was some rich noble girl. Those were always fun to–

Ahem. Anyway, Godbrand had had his eye on you for a while now, subtly approaching you and meeting with you in your workspace. He'd keep you company, stick his nose in your work and speak to you for hours, enjoying the sight of you in those tight leathers as you leaned and bent over the bodies. So far, you hadn't kicked him out or told him to jump into running water. Which he took to mean you must like him back at least a little.

As he entered the room, making sure nobody saw him as he shut the doors, he thought of the other reason he was interested in you.

"Still at it, huh?" He spoke as he approached, listening to the haunting, shrill clang of your forge weapon striking the corpse, magic rippling over it and turning into a new night creature. "You know, I am starting to think you don't sleep. And last time I checked, humans need that."

You continued striking down on the corpse, not looking away from it even as you spoke.

“I sleep plenty, Godbrand, but in case you've forgotten, I sleep at night. You know, when you're most active and out hunting or fighting.”

He hadn't forgotten that. He'd started to keep track of your hours and knew they were fewer than a human, a woman no less, should be getting.

But he wasn't about to start an argument over how much you were resting.

Casually, he leaned against the wall besides your workstation, watching you with his arms crossed. He drank you in, golden eyes gleaming in the dim light of the room. His gaze trailed from your legs to your hips, to your flat stomach to your breasts, then your neck, eyeing your pulse with a hunger felt both in his gums and his loins.

As the corpse changed into the form of a giant reptilian beast and rose, following your instructions to find the others at a lower level, Godbrand cleared his throat.

"I was thinking the other day...” He began, making you huff, a teasing grin on your lips.

“A dangerous activity for you.” You say, making him chuckle dryly.

“Uh-huh. Yeah. Anyway… isn't it odd how the child between a human and a vampire is so powerful?” As he speaks, he pushes off the wall, approaching you, trailing his claws along the cold, bloodstained worktable. “It's just weird, since my kind eat yours." He says, coming to a stop right beside you, eyes suddenly staring into yours.

You held his gaze calmly, mulling over the odd and sudden topic.

“I suppose it is… usually, hybrids in nature are between similar species. Like donkeys and horses or dogs and wolves.” You say, laying your hammer on the table. “But then again, vampires are humans, just… undead. And bloodthirsty.” You cross your arms. “Why? What brought this on?”

The Viking just stared down at you, loving the way your arms subtly pushed up your breasts. Such a pretty view…

“Just thinking.” He says quietly, catching the twitch of your lips, unable to stop his own from doing the same. “Was walking around the castle earlier and saw a painting of Dracula's son. Got me wondering…”

He took a small step closer, the predator in him taking delight in the way your pulse visibly jumped; despite the hours spent together, you clearly hadn't forgotten just what he was. Knew better than to trust a civil vampire to stay that way up close.

“I mean, Alucard can walk in the sunlight, eat human food and be sustained off of it, has all the powers of my kind and could learn human-only magic.” He lists off, raising his hand off the table and towards you, fingers brushing up your arms. “It's fascinating, really, and I'm not usually one to be interested in this stuff.”

“But you are.” You state, keeping an eye on his movements as the distance between you shrinks and shrinks. “Why? I'm sure there's other subjects you'd find just as riveting.”

Godbrand stared at you, let the silence drag on, waited for your pulse to speed up–

Then moved.

He pushed you, shoved you back, laying you down on your forge and hovered over you, hands on either side of your head as you gaped up at him for a moment, taken by surprise. He drank it in, gums aching as his eyes swept down your figure, loving how you looked in such a tight uniform.

Fucking hell, why didn't more women wear mens clothes? Fucking suited them more than it did men. All those curves hugged tight… fuck, he was aching to sink into you.

“Godbrand!” Your voice rang out in the room, loud, yet was trapped by the thick stone walls of the castle; still, if any vampires passed by, they'd hear for certain. Not that they'd interfere… unless they were Dracula's coven. “What are you–?! Get off of me!”

“Nah, I like this position. Gives me one gorgeous view.”

Your lips parted again, obviously flustered; he could hear your blood racing to warm your cheeks. It made him want to lean down and feel that heat for himself.

So he did. He was never one to contain his impulses, and he wasn't about to start now.

Your breath hitched as he leaned down, probably thinking he was about to bite you. Which… fuck, was that a tempting thought. He just knew you'd taste sweeter than anything else he'd ever had before. But not right now. Right now, he was cheek to cheek with you, humming deep in his chest as he felt your warmth bleed into his own cold, undead skin.

“You're warm,” he whispers. Your heart skips a beat, muscles tensing and untensing as you breathe slowly, hands pressed to his chest. He shifts, trying to press between your clenched thighs. “I wonder how warm you are elsewhere…”

Your breath hitched.

“Godbrand…” Your voice wavered, one hand moving away. “What the fuck are you doing? Are you really that desperate to get your dick wet that you'd dare risk Dracula's wrath?”

He pressed closer, nuzzling. So warm… “Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you or anything. Though I do want to fuck you.”

You scoff. “Flattered, but you want to fuck most things.”

“No,” he corrects softly, pulling back a bit to look into your eyes again, uncaring for the forge hammer in your grip, “not anymore. Now I just want to fuck you.”

You pause. Against all logic and reason, you pause and he continues.

“I've been thinking a lot lately, and I've decided I like you. Now, that's more than it takes for me to want to fuck somebody, but you're… special.” He admits, and if his body was still human, he would've blushed at the confession and how it made him sound like some some stupid teenage boy.

Despite the situation, you crack a grin. “Oh, so that means you want to fuck me multiple times?” You joke, still gripping the hammer tight, but seemingly realising this wasn't about to take a bloody turn.

“Yes.” He says, cupping your cheek, hand enveloping the side of your face, mindful of his claws as he stroked beneath your eye. “Many, many times, in fact. As long as your lifespan allows.” He said, voice gentling into something quieter, almost… affectionate.

As you caught his meaning, he imagined it. Waking up to your warm body besides his, fucking you day and night, body always pliant and wet for him. He'd fill you up with so many–

Eyes falling shut, he grits his teeth, cock twitching within his pants. God, if he didn't sink into you soon he was going to lose his mind.

You swallow, lips pressing together as you watch him. Finally, you gather the nerve to talk.

“Speak plainly, Godbrand. I– I'm not about to assume anything.” You say, heart racing loud enough to snap him out of his fantasies. “Tell me what the fuck you mean before I bash your brains in.”

Cute. Like you'd ever do that to him. He's pretty sure you like him too much to ever hurt him. Without good reason, at least.

Still stroking back and forth beneath your eye, Godbrand flashes his fangs in a grin.

“I want to make you my woman.” He states. “I want to make you mine. Keep you satisfied and full, by my side. And I want to breed you and make a half-human, half-vampire child.” He says, lowering himself until he was chest to chest with you, your remaining hand falling away. “I want to take you back to my territory after this is all over and breed your cunt full of my sons and daughters, create enough powerful offspring so my line will live on forever!”

As you stared at him with shock or horror, Godbrand leaned in, completely covering you. His nose bumped against yours as he licked his fangs, eyeing your lips hungrily.

“Is that answer enough, forge-master? Or shall I go on?”

For a long moment, you said nothing, just shocked silent as you looked at him, searching– perhaps for truth, or that this may be a joke, or that he was lying out of his ass and just wanted a quick fuck and/or meal.

But then your forge hammer fell from your loose grip and your hand was in his hair, fingers knotting tight between the strands. He growls, pleased as he feels your grip.

“I thought you hated humans.” You whisper, brows knitted in confusion, still not believing him– not fully, at least. But he could feel your warmth increasing, could see your pupils blowing wide with reciprocated desire.

He nearly had you.

“Oh, I do.” Godbrand said, nudging his nose against yours, so close your breaths were shared. “But you're not like other livestock. You're a forge-master, a necromancer! You accept vampires as we are, no disgust or shying away. I can respect that.” He leans in, lips brushing together briefly. A shiver races up his spine at the brief touch. “And it helps that you're fucking beautiful. Just look at you! I've wanted to bend you over the nearest table since I first saw you walking away from me.”

A noise leaves you at that, a whimpery, wanton sound that you fail to cover up with a fake laugh. “O-of course you did. I'm honestly surprised you look to my face when we talk and not my tits or ass…”

He lets out a small laugh. “Oh, believe me, I'm tempted, but your face is just as gorgeous as either, so it's really no struggle.”

Beneath his palm, your cheek warms further.

You look away. “You– stop saying stuff like that!”

“And why should I?” He asks, tilting his head to meet your gaze again. “Am I embarrassing you?”

“Yes!” You huff, squirming beneath him. “You're– I need to think, Godbrand. Please, just a moment.” You say, tugging on his hair– which only makes his cock twitch which is… probably the opposite of what you intended. But he still listens.

With a frown, the vampire pulls away, enough for you to breathe without him crushing your chest.

You sigh, rubbing your face, looking at him from between your fingers. He waits impatiently for your answer, feeling almost nervous.

When he imagined all the ways this could go, they usually included clothes flying off and him ruining you for all other men. Not… awkward silence as you judge his offer.

It made him feel… small. Weak.

He hated it. But he wouldn't take that out on you. Not when he honestly wanted you and only you as his lover, to carry his child.

Finally, you push up, making him lean back and back until he was standing and you were sitting.

Silently, you cupped his face with both hands, and the Viking felt hopeful again. You looked at him for a moment, just taking him in anew: his hair, his eyes, his pointed ears and sharp fangs. Even his cold his skin beneath your palms.

“You won't bite me?” You ask carefully as he leans into your touch.

“Not without permission.”

“And you won't accidentally hurt or drain me dry?”

He almost scoffs at the question, but answers seriously. “I can control myself plenty. So no. Never.”

You nod at that, slow and allowing his words to settle. Your thumb twitches against his cheek, random, then you're leaning in, faces once more inches apart.

When you hesitate at the last second, nerves obvious, Godbrand takes the initiative, giving you a chaste brush of lips. When he goes to pull away you chase, pressing your mouth firmly against his.

It's like a dam unblocking after that.

You're willing, eager, though still so shy and he can't figure out why. A virgin, maybe? If so, Godbrand would ensure you were nice and slick before he pierced you. Regardless, he was taking the lead, kissing you hungrily and messily, pressing between your willingly parted thighs and grabbing you by the waist, pressing right up against you.

Everything else fades away. All he can hear is your blood rushing through your body, the soft clicks of your lips meeting, the breathy sounds you make. Your warmth is delicious, increasing as you become aroused, and he can smell it, can scent your pussy becoming wet for him as he caresses your back and kisses into your mouth with tongue, coaxing you to do the same, smirking as your tongue laves at his fangs.

With a reluctant groan, he pulls away, sliding his hands lower and gripping your ass, pulling you off the table and into his arms.

“Alright, as fun as it would be, fucking on a bloody, metal table is hardly what I'd call romantic. So where–”

“I didn't know you knew the meaning of romance.” You cut in, shooting him a grin from where you were clinging to his chest.

“Ha ha.” He narrowed his eyes, swatting your ass. “Very funny. Now, where do you wanna do this?”

You nodded to a curtained off area. “My bedroom is behind there. It's a little more private than here.”

He walked over. Pushing the thick curtains aside, he found a door, pushing it open to find a simple yet cozy bedroom within. He grinned at the sight of the large bed, shutting the door in a hurry and rushing towards it, dropping you down on it as he quickly began to take off his armour and trousers, furs dropping and boots kicked off.

You sat up, shedding your own shoes only to freeze as his cock bobs free, hard and weeping.

You swallowed thickly, eyeing it as he preened, flexing his muscles and cock. 

Nestled within a forest of wiry dark red curls, his cock hung heavily, a fat pair of balls hanging beneath it. The tip glistened from beneath the foreskin, purple veins lining the sides. You looked utterly enchanted as you gazed at his cock, Godbrand smirking with masculine pride as he ran a hand down his pecs and stomach, through the thick hairs leading down his body and grasped his cock, giving it a nice, slow stroke for show.

You actually whimpered at the sight, so aroused you could cum from just being touched.

Like he could tell how badly you were effected, Godbrand chuckled, crawling onto the bed and towards you, cradling the back of your head and yanking you into another messy kiss, groaning as he tried undressing you with one hand. You got further than he did, shedding your upper layers– uniform jacket, undershirt, and simple bra as quick as you could– but your pants required a different position, and so the kiss was broken.

Godbrand was quick to yank them down, throwing them off because for once, he was seeing your tits bare, and he wasn't about to waste anymore time when he could be touching them.

Once you were in just your underwear– a plain pair of cotton knickers– Godbrand was on top of you, squeezing your tits roughly before nuzzling them, nipping and sucking on your fatty flesh, groaning as he watches bruises form, blood rising to the surface. It was so fucking tempting to just… but not yet. Later. First he wanted to suck on something else.

When his mouth enveloped your nipple, you choked, unsure of how to feel about the foreign sensation. Yet after a few suckles, pleasure blossomed, and your hand found a place in his wild mane, stroking and encouraging him as you whined a bit, never having felt this before.

Between your bodies, his cock rutted against your soft belly desperately, leaving translucent cream smeared across your skin.

You reached down, nudging him until he lifted a bit. You grasped his cock, making him groan around your nipple, eyes rolling back and hips stuttering.

“Fucking hell, woman.” He pulled back to say, sucking a hickey onto your breast. “You're a fucking witch. You make me feel so sensitive.”

“Is that a bad thing?” You ask as you thumb at his slit, squeezing his shaft gently.

He moans. “Only if I cum too early.”

You smirk, stroking him more as you feel more confident. “I won't mind. Just so long as you can keep going.”

At that, Godbrand lets out a small chuckle. “Oh-ho, aren't you in luck. One thing vampire men are better at? Lasting longer in bed. I'll fuck you for as long as you like, sweetheart.”

You hum, kissing him again, losing yourself in the movement of his lips and tongue as you stroked his cock, Godbrand continuing to grope your tits and pluck your nipples.

After a short while though, he reached down, one hand cupping your cunt through your underwear and squeezing your plump mound. Feeling the heat and stickiness, he hums into the kiss, pleased.

He tugs the crotch to the side, sliding his fingers between your puffy folds slowly, getting the digits nice and sticky, knee nudging your thigh for you to spread them. Once you do, he slides his fingers through your split, carefully sinking a finger into your cunt, thumb finding your clit.

The feeling has you shuddering, moaning aloud as you're touched for the first time in forever, Godbrand careful as he fingers you, mindful of his claws. As you moan into the air, he presses kisses along your jaw and neck, breathing in your scent like an animal in rut, cock still held tight in your grip.

Slipping another finger into you, he stretched you, pressing deep. He doesn't feel a hymen, so at least he won't be popping anything. Though he is disappointed he won't be able to taste your virginity. That was one of the best parts of fucking a virgin.

Tongue flicking across your pulse, Godbrand speaks, idly scissoring you open.

“This your first time, sweetheart?”

“Ah– no.” You say, throat clicking as you swallow. “I've– once before. It wasn't the best experience.”

He hums, scowling briefly at the thought of anyone else tasting your flesh. Maybe if he still lived, Godbrand would take his life. But for now…

“Then I'll be sure to make up for that. Many times.” He says, rubbing the pads of his fingers in circles along that special spot within a woman, smirking as you gasp, thighs trembling from pure pleasure.

God, he was going to ruin you. He couldn't wait to introduce you to other things. Not that he thought you were innocent, just inexperienced.

Positions shifting, Godbrand laid on his side, playing with your cunt as you laid on the bed, back arching whenever the pleasure got to you, squeezing and trying to stroke his cock, never once letting go of it. He kissed your temple, pulling his hand back and pulling your underwear off.

He leaned forward a bit, spreading you open with his fingers. He hissed at the sight of your flushed flesh, watching your little clit pulse and swell for more, opening leaking and clenching around nothing.

He brought his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean. Damn, almost as good as blood, he thought, giving you a look.

“Ready for the main thing, forge-master? I've been dreaming of this day for months. Sheathing myself within your slick warmth, fucking a baby into your belly…” He rolled back on top, gently prying your hand off his dick. He rubbed the tip between your plump lips, eager to be buried deep and pressed flush against you. 

“I've spent many nights stroking myself to the thought of this moment.” He said, drinking you in with his golden gaze, eyes roaming your succulent figure. His free hand reaching up to squeeze your soft, plump tits, then lower, along your soft belly that he couldn't wait to see grow big and round with his seed. “Stroked myself raw a couple of times too, think I might've ejaculated blood once…” He mutters, looking down at your thighs, loving how thick and strong they were, silvery stretch marks lining them and your belly. So pretty…

You make a face at that, a mix of disturbed and amused (and maybe flattered, too), before your legs flex and wrap around his waist, and you reach for his free hand, gripping it.

“Then what are you waiting for?” You ask, tone sensual and playful as you roll your hips, his tip shlicking through your folds. “Fuck me already, Godbrand, fuck me and put your baby in me–eeeiiihhh!”

He didn't waste anytime, pushing in swiftly and smoothly, tip dragging along your walls until he bottomed out, head thrown back as he feels your insides hug him, clenching repeatedly. His shoulders tensed, ass clenched; he hissed, forcing himself not to cum.

You weren't much better, breathing shaky and loud as you were suddenly filled to the brim. You squeeze your eyes shut, whining in the back of your throat at the mix of sensations.

Your hot insides clung to him, feeling every vein as he stretched your walls; and he was so cold compared to you. Vampires were truly fascinating creatures.

Licking drool from his lips, Godbrand blinked down at you, feeling your hand squeeze his a few times. He adjusted his grip, intertwining his fingers with yours, all romantic and sweet. You seem to like it, so he gives your hand a squeeze and presses it into the bedding beside your head, his other cupping your face again.

“You're scorching,” he whispers, voice a wreck as he licks your neck. “Feel like I'm being burned alive in you. You feel like sunlight, sweetheart.”

“Y-yeah?” You speak, tilting your head back, throat bared to him.

“Mm, in the best way possible.” He says, licking at your pulse, feeling it everywhere. Beneath his chest, around his cock, on his lips– you were a fucking tease and didn't even know it. “Let me taste you, my little necromancer. Just one taste, I won't ask for more.”

Above him, you looked down, meeting his gaze from where his face was right between your shoulder and neck. You huff, knowing he wouldn't keep to that promise. It was Godbrand, after all, and he always overstepped boundaries.

But you knew that already, and gave him the go ahead anyway.

His fangs sunk in without wasting a second.

As you groaned in pain, Godbrand moaned in ecstasy, hips rolling, humping into you as he suckled hungrily, lapping at the small puncture wounds and drinking greedily, savouring every swallow by swirling it around his mouth, letting it thicken on his tongue before swallowing; he laps at your neck, saliva soothing the sting and numbing it a bit as he continued moving his hips, grinding against your inner walls and rubbing his pelvis against your clit, making your legs flex around his hips.

“Godbrand–”

He groans at the sound of his name falling from your lips, moving faster, clutching your hand like it was the only thing keeping him grounded, pulling out to actually thrust, to properly fuck you.

“That's it, sweetheart– come for Godbrand, come on my cock, sweet thing.” He groans, head rising from your neck, fangs and lips drenched in your blood, his eyes glowing with pleasure and power as it flows through him. He begins pumping his hips harder, faster, inhumanly so. “So fucking tight– gonna strangle my cock off at this point.”

You just cling to him, hiding your face against his shoulder and shoulder.

“No, no, don't do that. I wanna see you come undone. There we go, that's better.” He purred, pulling you back, watching intently as your face scrunched up with pleasure, adjusting his thrusts to hit your g-spot more. It makes your jaw drop in silent pleasure, Godbrand grinning viciously. “That's it! I knew I'd have you like this, that you wouldn't be able to resist.”

He kisses you again, iron filling your mouth as his tongue messily tangles with yours, spit and blood coating your parted lips. “I'll make you cum so many times you'll never want to leave, going to ruin you for every other human– vampires, too.” He growls, damn near snarling down at you as his balls draw up, tight and full of cum just for you. “You're all mine now. My pretty little forge-master, my pretty little breeder…”

You just stare up at him, eyes heavy and body hot, pleasure sparking through every inch of you. As he spoke, you felt yourself hurtle over that edge, his words just dirty enough to give you that final push.

As his cock shoved into you again and again, dragging over sensitive, untouched nerves, and his pubic bone grinded against your clit, you came with a weak cry, overwhelmed in the best way possible, only able to hold onto him as you shattered around him, cunt throbbing and dripping.

At the feeling of your orgasm, Godbrand groaned, the vampire finally allowing himself to let go, thrusts growing messy and sloppy, wet claps becoming slick squelches as he stirs his cock within you, moaning loudly as he came, pumping thick, virile sperm right against your cervix, grinding forward to press it against the seal of your womb.

He shook, trembled, laying on top of you like a heavy, cool blanket. You didn't mind, lazily playing with his hair as you fought to catch your breath. He recovered faster than you, obviously, but remained in place, enjoying this rare form of intimacy he rarely experienced.

Though if you were going to be his woman from now on…

Lips twitching into a smirk, Godbrand nuzzled your breasts, listening to your heart pound like the drums of war, a melody as familiar and as sweet to him as the sounds of birdsong.

Once you recovered, Godbrand pushed up onto his elbows, looking at you silently, almost softly, for a moment.

You stared back, then tilted your head.

“We going to do this again or was your claim of vampire stamina just a lie?” You ask, making him grin wide.

“Oh, that was no lie, sweetheart.” He said, pulling back just to snap his hips forward, making your breath hitch. “Just making sure you're up for more.”

You hum, twirling his hair around your fingers. “Well, I am. So get to it, vampire.” You demanded playfully, tugging on his hair.

Chuckling, Godbrand grabs your legs and pushes them up, maneuvering you until your knees were laid over his shoulders.