Andy

Feel free to ask/request something ! Could be from any series or movies you want ✨

My babysitter's a vampire :

Ethan Morgan:

My gf's a vampire: or where Ethan finds out you're a full vampire

Second Sight Second Chances: or when Ethan feels guilty about you being a vampire

Pretty little baby: or when you drink Ethan's blood

In the Shadows of the Moonlight : or where you fall in love with Ethan

So sensitive: or where he loses it to you

Not the same: or where he treats you different since you turned

Mine to protect: or when you get protective over Ethan.

Blood and lies: or when he gets a wrong idea of you

The choice : or when Ethan comforts you about choosing to complete the transition

Where I stand: or when Ethan finds out about your connection with Jesse

Benny Weir :

Bloodlines and Spellbooks : or where you and benny fall in love

Blood Moon spell: or when benny helps you with the struggles of the blood moon

Why me?: or where you turn into a vampire against your will and benny comforts you

Moonlight confessions : or where you confess your feelings to benny

The space between us: or where you need to choose between Benny and Rory

Center stage: or where Benny is not affected by your powers

Blood moon rising: or where Benny tries to help you with your transformation

If I lost you : or when a dangerous situation made you realise you had feelings for Benny

Here you go love: or when you sacrifice yourself for Benny!

Here you go love 2 : or when Benny figured out how to bring you back

Not so brave, Benny: or where he tries to get you to cuddle him

Sarah Fox:

Nothing here yet!

Erica Jones:

Kiss Me Before the Sun Rises: or where Erica finally gives in to her feelings for you

Jesse Black:

Headcanons: or where you and Jesse are in a relationship

Shadows of redemption: or where you give Jesse a second chance

Rory Keaner:

A blushy vampire: or where he asks you for help with his outfit .

Fangs and feelings : or when you find out Rory's a vampire

Fangs, Films, and Feelings: or where he helps you with the struggles of being a new vampire

Vital signs: or where you are a vamp doctor and Rory helps you on your researches

The space between us: or where you need to choose between Rory and Benny

Fangs like ours: or where Rory finds out you're also a vampire

Only for eyes for you: or where Rory can't believe someone like you could like him

Hopelessly, Pathetically, Vampirically in Love: or when you guys fall in love

Warnings: none! Just fluff <3

Masterlist!

Requested!

Benny had been acting suspicious all day.

You noticed it first when he kept glancing at you during lunch, that mischievous little smirk tugging at his lips. Then again when he casually mentioned, three times, that he had “the perfect movie” to watch later.

Now, you were standing in his living room, arms crossed, watching him pretend to scroll through movies like he hadn’t already picked one.

“You know,” Benny said, trying, and failing, to sound casual, “there’s this horror movie everyone’s been talking about…”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

“Yeah,” he continued, sneaking a glance at you. “Super scary. Like, people can’t even finish it.”

You hummed thoughtfully, hiding your smile. “Sounds intense.”

Benny shrugged, leaning back against the couch. “I mean… we don’t have to watch it. Unless you’re okay with it.”

There it was.

You knew what he was doing.

Benny, self-proclaimed genius, thought he was being subtle. He thought you’d get scared, cling to him, maybe hide your face in his shoulder—

Cute.

Very cute.

But also very wrong.

Because what Benny didn’t know… was that you loved horror movies.

Still, you played along.

“I mean…” you hesitated, biting your lip like you were unsure. “If you’re there, I guess I could try.”

Benny’s eyes lit up immediately. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, walking over and sitting on the couch. “But if it’s too scary, I’m blaming you.”

He grinned, sitting just close enough that your shoulders brushed. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”

Oh, this was going to be fun.

The movie started.

Dark music filled the room, the screen flickering with eerie shadows. Within the first ten minutes, something very unsettling happened on screen.

You didn’t flinch.

Not even a little.

But next to you… Benny shifted.

Subtly at first. A small movement. A quiet clearing of his throat.

You kept your eyes on the screen, pretending not to notice.

Another jump scare.

This time, Benny actually jerked a little.

You blinked slowly, finally glancing at him. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said quickly. “Totally fine.”

You nodded, suppressing a smile.

A few minutes passed. The tension in the movie built—creepy silence, footsteps, a door creaking open—

Benny leaned closer.

Not in a smooth way. Not in a confident way.

More like… gravitating toward you.

Like you were a safe zone.

You almost laughed.

“Hey,” you whispered softly, playing your part. “This is getting kinda scary…”

Benny straightened immediately, puffing up just a little. “Yeah, I know. Don’t worry.”

He placed an arm around your shoulders, clearly, thinking he was executing his master plan.

Right on cue, another loud jump scare hit.

You stayed perfectly still.

But him? He flinched hard.

Like, full-body flinch.

His hand tightened around your shoulder, and for a split second, you were pretty sure he almost hid his face in your neck.

Silence.

You slowly turned your head toward him.

“…Benny?”

“I’m fine,” he said instantly.

You stared.

He stared back.

Another creepy scene started, and this time, Benny didn’t even pretend anymore,he shifted even closer, practically glued to your side.

“Are you sure you’re not scared?” he asked, voice just a little too quick.

You tilted your head innocently. “Me? No, I’m good.”

“…Oh.”

That seemed to throw him off.

A few more minutes went by, and things only got worse for him. Every eerie sound, every sudden movement..

Benny kept reacting.

Meanwhile, you were completely calm, occasionally even interested.

At one point, you actually leaned forward, focused. “Wait, this is the best part.”

Benny blinked. “The best part?”

“Yeah,” you said, eyes still on the screen. “I love scenes like this.”

There was a long pause.

“…You love this?”

You finally turned to him, a small grin forming. “Yeah. I love horror movies.”

Benny froze.

Completely.

“You—” he pointed at you. “You’ve been fine this whole time?”

“Mhm.”

“And you said you might get scared—”

“I lied.”

Another jump scare.

Benny flinched again.

You couldn’t hold it in anymore, you laughed.

Not in a mean way, just soft and amused, your shoulders shaking slightly.

Benny groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Oh my god.”

“You were trying to get me to cuddle you,” you teased, nudging him lightly.

“I was not—”

“You literally said you’d ‘protect me,’” you cut in, grinning.

He looked at you, cheeks slightly pink, clearly caught.

“…Okay, maybe a little.”

You smiled, softer now. “That’s cute.”

He huffed, looking away. “Yeah, well… didn’t really go as planned.”

Another creepy moment played on screen.

This time, without saying anything, Benny shifted closer again, just.. naturally.

You noticed.

And instead of teasing him…

You leaned into him.

Just slightly.

Benny went still for a second.

“…You’re still not scared, right?” he muttered.

You smiled, resting your head lightly against his shoulder.

“Nope.”

A pause.

“…Then why are you cuddling me?”

You closed your eyes for a moment, smiling to yourself.

“Because I want to.”

Benny didn’t say anything after that.

But you felt the way he relaxed next to you… the way his arm settled more comfortably around you.

And this time?

Warnings: none! Just fluff

(Rory Keaner x Vampire!Reader)

Masterlist!<3

Based on this request! :p

If someone had told you that dating Rory Keaner would turn him into the most insufferably smitten vampire in Whitechapel, you would’ve laughed.

You are no longer laughing.

You’re sitting in the cafeteria at Whitechapel High, sipping a blood bag through a straw, while Rory stares at you like you personally invented eternity.

“Blink,” says Ethan.

Rory doesn’t.

“Rory,” Benny adds, snapping his fingers in front of his face. “Earth to simp.”

“I am on Earth,” Rory replies dreamily. “And Earth is blessed because they’re on it.”

You slowly lower your drink. “Rory.”

He gasps softly like you just recited poetry.

“Did you hear that?” he whispers to Ethan. “She said my name.”

“Yes,” Ethan says flatly. “That tends to happen in conversations.”

You fight the smile threatening to betray you. “You’re being dramatic.”

“I’m being honest,” he corrects, leaning closer. “You’re radiant today. More than usual. Is that a new jacket? It’s very… vampirically chic.”

“It’s the same jacket I’ve had for three centuries.”

“And yet,” he says solemnly, placing a hand over his heart, “it has never looked better.”

Across the table, Sarah makes a gagging noise.

“I miss when he was broody,” she mutters.

“You used to brood,” Benny agrees. “You had edge. Now you have… whatever this is.”

“This,” Rory says proudly, sliding his arm around your shoulders, “is happiness.”

You lean into him despite yourself.

And that is the problem.

It gets worse during patrol.

There’s a minor demon sighting near the park — nothing dramatic, just some glowy-eyed nuisance scaring joggers. The group is mid-strategy discussion.

“We flank it,” Ethan says. “Rory, you go le—”

“Did you see how they flipped their hair just now?”

Everyone freezes.

The demon screeches in the distance.

“Rory,” Sarah says slowly, “are you listening?”

“I am,” he insists. “I can multitask. I’m listening and admiring.”

You shove his arm lightly. “Focus. Demon.”

“Right. Yes. Evil. Terrible. Hate that.”

The demon lunges.

Rory blur-speeds forward — efficiently, impressively — pins it against a tree, fangs out, full terrifying vampire mode.

It would be very intimidating.

If he didn’t shout, mid-attack—

“BABE, WATCH THIS!”

You press your fingers to your temples.

He dusts the demon dramatically, then turns to you, grinning like a golden retriever who just fetched a stick.

“Did you see? I spun it. I don’t normally spin.”

“You absolutely did not need to spin,” Benny says.

“It was stylish,” Rory argues.

“It was unnecessary,” Ethan counters.

You walk over, trying not to laugh. “You were very… spinny.”

His entire face lights up. “You think so?”

“I think you’re showing off.”

He leans down slightly, voice dropping softer. “Only for you.”

Behind you, Sarah groans. “Can they not do this while we’re standing here?”

But the true disaster happens the next day in class.

Mr. G is writing on the board. The classroom is quiet. Suspiciously calm.

You’re sitting beside Rory, pretending to take notes.

Rory is not pretending.

He’s writing your name in the margins of his notebook.

Over.

And over.

And over.

In different fonts.

You glance down. “…Is that a heart?”

He immediately slams the notebook shut.

“No.”

“It absolutely was.”

“It was geometry.”

“You drew fangs on it.”

He sighs dramatically, then opens it again. The page is filled with your name surrounded by poorly drawn bats.

“You’re distracting,” he murmurs.

“I’m sitting still.”

“Exactly.”

You laugh under your breath, and he just stares at you again — soft, completely gone.

And then—

Mr. G clears his throat.

“Mr. Keaner. Care to share what’s so amusing?”

Rory, without hesitation, stands.

You feel dread creep up your spine.

“I was just thinking,” he says confidently, “that if Shakespeare had met them—” he gestures directly at you “—he would’ve retired. Immediately.”

The class erupts.

You sink in your seat. “Rory.”

“What?” he says, sitting back down proudly. “It’s true.”

“You are unbelievable.”

“And yet,” he replies smoothly, lacing his fingers with yours under the desk, “you love me.”

You squeeze his hand.

“I do,” you admit.

That’s when Ethan turns around from the row in front of you.

“Can you two not be adorable for, like, five minutes?”

“No,” Rory answers instantly.

You grin. “Absolutely not.”

Later that night, when the group disperses and it’s just the two of you on the roof overlooking Whitechapel, the chaos fades.

Rory sits beside you, quieter now. The teasing energy softens.

“You know,” he says, staring at the skyline, “I don’t actually mean to embarrass you.”

“I know.”

“I just…” He hesitates. “I spent a long time not caring about much. And now I do. A lot.”

Your chest tightens — not painfully, but warm.

He turns to you.

“And you’re my favorite thing about eternity.”

It’s softer than his usual theatrics. Realer.

You bump your shoulder against his.

“You’re my favorite disaster.”

He gasps. “Disaster?”

“Lovable disaster.”

“Ah,” he nods. “Acceptable.”

You lean in and kiss him gently.

Below, on the street, you hear Ethan’s voice faintly.

“If they start making out up there, I’m moving towns.”

Rory pulls back just enough to smirk.

“Let him suffer.”

You laugh against his lips.

And honestly?

(also btw, thank you so much for writing for mbav since I can't find lots of five for them🙏🙏)

Omg such a good idea! I'll definitely do this 🫶🏻.

And tysm, means a lot to me 🫂✨

Let me know on the comments or the suggestion box on my bio!

Warnings: none!

Masterlist<3!

You’ve learned to move quietly.

Not because you’re weak—far from it—but because Jesse’s gang survives by knowing when to strike and when to disappear. Vampires like you don’t get second chances in Whitechapel, especially not when the school is crawling with hunters who smile too easily and ask too many questions.

Which is exactly why being forced to attend Whitechapel High feels like a bad joke.

You sit in the back of the classroom, arms crossed, eyes unfocused as the teacher drones on. Your senses are tuned outward instead—heartbeats, breathing, the subtle hum of supernatural energy that never fully fades. Humans are easy to tune out. Vampires aren’t.

And then there’s him.

Rory Keaner sits two rows ahead, sunlight catching in his hair like it doesn’t know any better. He looks normal—annoyingly so. Quiet. Polite. A little awkward. The kind of guy teachers trust and classmates overlook.

But your instincts curl tight the moment you notice him.

Because he’s hiding something.

Not like you hide—sharp edges wrapped in confidence—but in a careful, almost anxious way. Like he’s afraid of being seen too clearly.

You glance away first.

The problem with Whitechapel is that nothing stays hidden for long.

You notice Rory everywhere after that. In the hallway, pressed against lockers while louder students rush past. In the library, fingers tracing book spines he doesn’t actually read. At lunch, sitting with Ethan and Benny, smiling when spoken to but never fully relaxing.

And—annoyingly—he starts noticing you too.

It’s subtle at first. A glance held a second too long. A pause when you walk into the room. The way his eyes flick to yours and then away, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to look.

Jesse warns you to stay focused.

“Hunters are circling,” he says one night, voice low. “And those kids? Especially the quiet ones? They’re always the worst.”

You nod. You always do.

Still, when you catch Rory alone after school—fumbling with his locker, frustration written all over his face—you don’t walk past like you should.

His locker door slams shut harder than necessary.

“Stupid thing,” he mutters.

You speak before you can stop yourself. “It sticks if you don’t lift it first.”

He freezes, then turns. Up close, his eyes are warmer than you expect. Curious. Guarded.

“Oh—uh. Thanks.” He tries again, and it opens. He lets out a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess it just doesn’t like me.”

“Seems personal,” you reply.

That earns you a smile. A real one.

“I’m Rory.”

You give him your name. You don’t lie—but you don’t explain either.

From that moment on, something shifts.

You start running into him on purpose.

Study sessions that turn into quiet conversations. Walks that stretch longer than necessary. He never pushes, never pries, but you feel his questions hovering just beneath the surface.

And the worst part?

You like him.

You like the way he listens like it matters. The way he notices small things—your mood, your silences, the way you always choose the darkest corners of a room. You like that he doesn’t flinch when your eyes glow faintly gold in the wrong light.

One night, everything breaks.

You’re cornered behind the school, a hunter stepping out of the shadows with a smug smile and a weapon you recognize instantly. Your heart doesn’t race—but your temper does.

You’re about to move when a voice cuts through the tension.

“Hey! What’s going on?”

Rory.

The hunter swears and bolts. You turn just in time to see Rory staring at you—not scared... Just confused.

He heard you fighting and went to help you, but he saw Jesse there with you.

“I knew you were a vampire but I didn't know you were on his side...” he says quietly.

You don’t deny it.

The silence stretches, heavy and dangerous.

Finally, he exhales. “Okay.”

That’s it. No shouting. No running.

“Okay?” you repeat.

He nods, a little shaky, but determined. “I had and idea about you and him a while ago. I just didn’t know how to say it. Or if I should.”

You study him, senses sharp. He’s telling the truth.

“I should be mad,” he admits. “But I’m not.”

That scares you more than anything.

After that, things are different—but not worse.

If anything, Rory becomes steadier. Braver. He learns the rules, the risks, the reasons you keep your distance. He doesn’t ask you to change. He just… stays.

Slowly. Carefully.

One evening, as you sit side by side on the school steps, the city quiet around you, he breaks the silence.

“You know,” he says, “shadows don’t lie. They just show what’s already there.”

You glance at him.

“And what do mine show?”

He meets your gaze, soft but unwavering. “That you’re not the monster you think you are.”

For the first time in a long while, you believe it might be true.

Warnings: none! Just betrayal and reader being secretly a vampire

Masterlist!<3

You knew something was wrong the moment Jesse showed up.

The night felt thicker somehow—like the air itself was holding its breath. Your heart was already pounding before Ethan even stepped in front of you, his body instinctively shielding yours like he always did when things got supernatural.

“Stay close,” he said under his breath. “And whatever happens, don’t get involved.”

If only he knew.

You stayed quiet, fingers curling into yours sleeves, eyes locked on Jesse. He hadn’t changed. Same confident posture, same infuriating smirk, same presence that made old memories claw their way to the surface no matter how hard you tried to bury them.

So when the fight started, it felt inevitable.

Magic crackled. Shouting echoed. Everything blurred into movement and noise until suddenly—too suddenly—Jesse lunged straight for Ethan.

Your body moved before my brain did.

You stepped between them.

You felt the impact of your powers explode outward, sharp and blinding, throwing Ethan back instead of Jesse.

Time shattered.

Ethan hit the ground hard, and the sound of it made something inside my chest crack. You turned just in time to see his eyes widen—not in pain, but in disbelief.

“You—?” he started.

You didn’t let yourself look at him for long and moved to Jesse’s side.

Silence slammed down on the group like a curse.

“What the hell are you doing?” Sarah yelled.

Benny stared at you like I’d just ripped the ground out from under him.

Ethan pushed himself up slowly, breathing hard, staring at you like he didn’t recognize you anymore.

“Why are you standing next to him?” he asked.

That hurt more than any spell ever could.

“i didn’t want you to find out like this,” you said quietly.

Jesse chuckled beside me, amused as always. “Funny how secrets surface during chaos.”

“Shut up,” you snapped, eyes never leaving Ethan.

You took a step forward—close enough that he could hear the tremor in your voice.

“I know what you think this looks like,” you said. “But it’s not that simple.”

Ethan shook his head, anger flashing behind his hurt. “You just attacked me. It’s pretty simple from where I’m standing.”

You swallowed. Hard.

“Before any of you knew about vampires,” you said, “before I was part of this group… Jesse was there.”

The words felt heavy. Exposed.

“He saved me,” you continued. “When no one else even knew I was in danger.”

Jesse glanced at me, surprised you’d said it out loud.

Ethan’s voice dropped. “So that’s it? You owe him, so you betray us?”

“I didn’t betray you,” you said, and this time your voice broke. “I tried to protect you.”

That made him flinch.

“I knew if you found out, you’d see me differently,” you whispered. “I knew you’d look at me like this.”

Ethan’s jaw tightened. “You should’ve trusted me.”

“I trusted you too much,” you said. “That’s why I stayed silent.”

The space between you two felt unbearable—charged with all the things you never said, all the feelings you never admitted because you were afraid they’d ruin everything.

Jesse cleared his throat. “As touching as this is, we should go.”

Ethan looked at you one last time. “If you leave with him… don’t expect me to forgive you.”

You chest ached.

“I’m not asking you to,” you said softly. “I just need you to know… I never chose him over you.”

You turned away before he could see the tears burning in your eyes.

Walking beside Jesse felt wrong. Every step pulled at you, like invisible strings tying you back to the people you were leaving behind—back to Ethan.

Back to what you’d just broken.

And even as the darkness swallowed you whole, one thought echoed louder than the rest:

You didn’t know which side you belonged to anymore.

Warnings: none! :p

The first bell hadn’t even finished ringing when Rodrick Heffley slammed his locker shut, headphones around his neck blasting music loud enough for half the hallway to hear. Same routine, same chaos — nothing interesting ever happened this early.

Which is why he wasn’t ready at all when something new actually did happen.

You.

Soft, pastel colors. Gentle expression. A shy smile as you hugged your schedule like it was a life raft. You looked like someone who didn’t belong in the Westmore Hallway Jungle at all — which was probably why Rodrick couldn’t stop staring.

Greg squinted at him. “You look like your brain blue-screened.”

Rodrick shoved him away, leaned on his locker to look cool —

and slammed his shoulder into the metal instead.

You winced slightly. “Um… are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Rodrick said instantly, pretending he wasn’t dying inside. “I do that all the time.”

Sure he did.

When you shyly asked him where room 214 was, he lied, Greg tattled, Rodrick kicked him, you looked confused, and somehow — by pure miracle or fate — Rodrick managed to get you to the right place.

After your shy, sweet smile and tiny wave goodbye, Rodrick stood frozen in place long after you disappeared into the classroom.

Bill appeared at his elbow. “You’re in love.”

“Shut up,” Rodrick muttered, cheeks pink.

But as he headed to his next class, still dazed, he wasn’t expecting the day to get even more surreal.

As the day passed, Rodrick went to his last class of the day; English class... His least favourite class... Till now.

Rodrick slouched into his English class, tossing his notebook onto his desk like usual. He was halfway through doodling a skull wearing sunglasses when the door opened — and you walked in.

He choked on air.

You scanned the class nervously, clutching your schedule, until your eyes landed on the only empty seat.

Right next to Rodrick.

“Oh,” you said softly, offering him the smallest, sweetest smile. “Hi again.”

Rodrick stared a second too long. “Hi. Yeah. Uh… wow.

Wow?

Really?

His friends would have mocked him for weeks.

You sat down, smoothing your skirt and setting your bag at your feet. Rodrick tried — really tried — not to stare, but the more he tried, the more obvious it became.

You could practically feel him glancing over every few seconds.

When class started, the teacher began her usual monotone intro speech — rules, expectations, grading. Rodrick wasn’t listening. He was too busy dying inside because the new girl smelled like some kind of floral shampoo and he didn’t know how to deal with that.

The teacher passed out a worksheet.

Rodrick immediately copied half the answers from the kid in front of him.

You glanced over, raising a brow. “You know she hasn’t even explained it yet, right?”

Rodrick froze mid-scribble. “I knew that.”

You tried not to smile. “Uh-huh.”

He sat straighter, trying to act like he suddenly cared deeply about the assignment. Meanwhile you calmly filled it out, neat handwriting, cute little hearts on your i’s — and Rodrick stared like he’d never seen a worksheet done correctly before.

At one point, the teacher called on him.

“Rodrick? Can you read the first sentence?”

He blinked. “What?”

The teacher sighed. “The sentence. In front of you.”

Rodrick cleared his throat, lifted the paper upside-down, realized it too late, flipped it, coughed again, and read in the most monotone voice imaginable:

“‘The… uh… author uses imagery to… to make it sound… good.’”

The class snickered.

Your hand slid over your mouth as you tried not to laugh.

It was… honestly adorable watching him try.

The teacher moved on, and Rodrick sank in his seat, mortified.

You nudged him gently with your elbow. “You did fine.”

He stared at you like you’d just complimented him on winning a Nobel Prize.

Then you slid your worksheet over slightly so he could peek. “If you need help… I don’t mind.”

Rodrick blinked.

No one had ever said that to him before.

He leaned over to look — too far — bumped foreheads with you — yelped — flailed — and almost fell out of his chair.

You giggled softly. “Careful.”

His face went bright red.

And despite all his disasters, all his tripping and slipping and embarrassment, you didn’t seem annoyed.

Actually… you seemed kind of amused. Warm. Patient.

And that terrified Rodrick more than anything.

Class ended, and as everyone stood to leave, you looked up at him shyly.

“See you in the hallway?”

Rodrick nodded too fast. “Yeah! I mean— yeah. Cool. Whatever.”

You smiled and walked out, and Rodrick watched you go, hand against his chest like he could physically hold his heartbeat down.

And maybe his friend was right.

Warnings: blood and violence!

Masterlist!<3

Based on this request!

Night had a pulse in Whitechapel.

It beat through the empty streets, flickered in the streetlights, whispered in the wind that brushed against the trees. And somewhere in that silence, a phone began to ring.

Benny’s gloved hands tightened around the handle of his mask. The corner of his mouth curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile.

“Showtime,” he murmured.

I nodded, my undead heart pounding in that same rhythm as the phone’s ring. I could feel it — the electricity, the thrill, the quiet storm of anticipation that hummed between us both.

He passed me the voice changer. I pressed the button and spoke.

“Hello, Casey.”

There was a pause on the other end. Then a nervous laugh. “Who is this?”

Benny tilted his head, watching me — watching the transformation. The way my eyes shifted when I became someone else. The predator beneath the calm.

“Wrong question,” I said, my voice distorted and low. “You should be asking where I am.”

A door slammed somewhere in the distance. Benny could almost see her now — the girl on the other end of the call, rushing from room to room, checking locks, pretending she wasn’t afraid.

He leaned close, his voice barely a whisper. “She’s going to the kitchen.”

I grinned behind the mask. “Perfect. Let's go”

Minutes passed like heartbeats, with the help of him, we were in her kitchen in seconds, I couldn't enter without being invited due to my vampire nature, so magic had to be included. The silence grew heavy. Then — a single, distant shriek cut through the night. Sharp, echoing, short-lived.

Benny didn’t flinch. Neither did I. The world outside kept spinning — cars passing by, dogs barking, people laughing somewhere far away. The ordinary world, unaware of what hid in its shadow.

“Hi, Casey” my voice cold and breathy as I spoke, my face totally transformed into a psychotic one, red eyes and fangs on display, but most important? The hunger was showing.

She didn't have the time to ask, not even to scream for help. In a matter of seconds I was on her neck, burying my fangs on it, blood flooding my senses, she screamed while I sucked her dry, It just made the blood taste sweeter, and when I was done? She dropped dead to the ground, blood pooling beneath her. Her face? Frozen forever in fear, and I couldn't help but laugh at the sight, poor girl .

I slipping the mask on slowly, my breath still unsteady from the adrenaline. “That’s it,” I whispered. “It’s done.”

Benny was watching me again — really watching with a surprised but proud stare. The way my hands shook, not from fear but from power. “You’re shaking.”

I laughed under my breath, cleaning the blood dripping from the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand. “You always say that.”

He reached forward, brushing his thumb over my jaw. The glove was cold. “Because you always do.”

I looked up at him — the boy I’d once stayed up with watching horror movies, laughing about how dumb the victims were, promising you’d always be the ones who survived.

And now, we were the monsters in the stories we used to mock.

“It feels… different this time,” I murmured.

Benny’s grin was faint, haunted. “It always does the first time you realize you like it.”

The sirens started faintly in the distance. Neither of us moved. The world outside that little room could’ve been a different planet.

I turned to him. “We should go.”

He nodded, tugging his hood up. “Partners?”

“Always.”

I held his hand and squeezed it gently, a silent promise of always being by his side while I vamp speeded back into his house, leaving her in her kitchen, all bloody and cold.

The streetlights painted our shadows long across the pavement, two shapes moving as one. The smell of metal still lingered faintly — sharp, electric, undeniable.

And in that empty street, Benny squeezed my hand gently.

Not out of love. Not out of comfort.

But out of recognition.

Because in the darkness, we were no longer pretending.

We were the call. We were the scream.

(obviously, this account would still be mainly for mbav :p)

I don't know if I could make it thaaat "bloody", but I could sure try! :). I'll work on it and I'll post it in a few days. Sorry for answering too late :(

Warnings: none! Just the mention of blood :p

Masterlist<3!

I never thought silence could feel so loud. The kind that presses against your chest until every breath feels like a scream. That’s what tonight was — suffocating, endless, loud silence.

Sarah’s words still echoed in my head, sharp and unforgiving.

> “You don’t have to do this, Y/N! You’re not thinking straight!”

I was thinking straight. For once, I was.

I’d spent weeks pretending the hunger wasn’t growing, pretending that animal urge under my skin wasn’t clawing its way out every time I caught a heartbeat nearby. I told myself I could stay “half” forever — not human, not vampire. Something in between. But the pain, the weakness, the constant not enough — it was killing me more than the transition ever could.

I thought Sarah would understand. But she didn’t.

> “You think you can control it?” she’d said. “I’ve seen what happens when vampires think they can handle it!”

That’s when I snapped. I don’t even remember half the things I said. Only the look in her eyes when she realized I meant it — that I was going to feed, complete it, and finally stop feeling like I was dying every day.

Now, I was sitting on the edge of the old school roof, legs dangling into the cool night air, tears drying on my cheeks. The moon was high, mocking me with its calm.

“Figured I’d find you up here,” a voice said softly.

Ethan.

He moved closer, careful — like he always was around me now. Not scared, just cautious. His footsteps stopped beside me, and I could feel his gaze even before he sat down.

“You and Sarah fought,” he said quietly. It wasn’t a question.

I huffed a humorless laugh. “You could say that.”

He didn’t respond right away. Just let the silence sit between us — comfortable, steady. Then, “You’re really going through with it, aren’t you?”

I nodded. My throat burned, not from thirst, but from holding back everything I wanted to say. “I can’t live like this, Ethan. Half of me’s already gone. The rest… it’s breaking.”

He turned to look at me, and I caught that flicker in his eyes — that same mix of fear and something softer, something that felt too much like care. “You’ll lose things,” he said. “Pieces of yourself. Pieces that make you you.”

“I already have,” I whispered.

The words hung in the air. And for a moment, neither of us spoke. Then he reached out, hesitantly, and took my hand. His skin was warm — too warm — and it made something ache inside me.

“You’re not a monster,” he said firmly, like saying it could make it true.

I let out a shaky breath, eyes stinging. “You don’t know that.”

“I do.” His voice was quiet, but there was no doubt in it. “Because no monster would cry over who they’re becoming.”

That’s when it broke me. The tears came back, hard and fast. Ethan didn’t say anything — he just pulled me into his arms, holding me tight against his chest. I could hear his heart beating, steady and real, and for a second, I let myself believe that maybe I could still belong to that sound.

“You’re still you, Y/N,” he murmured into my hair. “No matter what you become.”

I wanted to believe him so badly.

But when I finally pulled away and saw the blood tears on my hands — deep red under the moonlight — I knew there was no turning back.

Still, Ethan didn’t flinch. He just met my eyes and gave me a faint, heartbreaking smile.

“Then I guess,” he said quietly, “I’ll just have to remind you who you are.”

I don’t remember choosing to bite — only the burning. The fire that ignited behind my ribs, the way my pulse vanished in a rush of white-hot agony. I gasped, falling to my knees, every nerve screaming as if the world itself was tearing me apart.

“Y/N!” Ethan’s voice cracked through the haze. His hands were on my shoulders, shaking, desperate. “Hey, stay with me—please, stay with me!”

I couldn’t answer. My throat locked. The last of my humanity slipped through my fingers like smoke — soft, warm, and fading.

And then… silence.

When I opened my eyes, everything was alive. The air shimmered; the moon burned brighter; even Ethan’s heartbeat sounded like a song — steady, beautiful, and painfully loud.

He looked at me like he wasn’t sure if he should breathe. “You… you did it.”

I blinked, the new clarity sharp enough to hurt. The hunger, the power — it was there, pulsing inside me. “I did,” I whispered. My voice sounded foreign — colder, steadier.

Ethan swallowed hard but didn’t move away. “You still look like you.”

A small, broken smile found its way to my lips. “That’s because you’re looking too close.”

He reached up slowly, brushing a strand of hair from my face — and though I could hear every thrum of blood beneath his skin, I didn’t move toward it. I didn’t want to.

“You’re still you,” he repeated, softer this time.

Maybe I was. Maybe I wasn’t.

But as the night settled around us and Ethan’s hand lingered just long enough to ground me, I realized something else — I wasn’t alone. Not anymore.

I'll post a one shot in a few minutes x