#vampire bruce

Superman immediately protecting Batman from the other League members who instantly switched from fussing over their injured friend to trying to put down the feral Vampire that's still desperately trying to get to Superman's blood.

Superman keeping Bruce safe and restrained while he repeatedly bites open his own wrist for Batman to drink from.

Clark is just out of his head with worry, would gladly bite down into his wrist, letting Bruce feed off of him like a babe.

Anyone who tries to pry him off will set Bruce off into attack mode.

No one's really encountered a feral and hungry vampire before, but they also know that they need to study it, log this kind of behaviour into the Watchtower/Hall of Justice database because it's something that Batman would do.

But any time one of them even gets close to him, Bruce will stop, bare his bloody fangs at them and pounce. He's only thwarted/stopped by the firm arm that's wrapped around his waist and Clark's soothing rumbling as Clark presents his bleeding wrist to Bruce once again.

It lasts for about 2-3 hours until Bruce has calmed down and come back. His suit is ruined, stained with blood. Clark hasn't left his side, with Bruce firmly sat on Superman's lap.

The memories come like a tidal wave, flashing in his mind as he had attacked Barry, clawing at Hal, tackling Diana. He hadn't even bothered using his gadgets, he was just pure adrenaline and instinct and hunger as he went feral.

His voice is hoarse from all the hissing and growling he'd done, he can barely talk, whispering his words. He doesn't necessarily apologise point blank; feeling too ashamed, guilty and embarrassed to be able to do that, so instead, he offers to input his ferality into the database himself, rewatching footage and logging them into reports.

It's enough to keep Clark away for a few hours but Clark's done waiting. He wants to know what happened. Metropolis has unreported cases of feral vampires, not a lot certainly, but it's enough that's one of the things that's on Superman's radar, and it's a different thing with Bruce turning feral.

Clark also feels flat-footed. He and Bruce have known each other for a few years now yet he's missed the signs of vampirism. He's been to the manor more than enough times, to the cave too, and he hadn't seen any signs.

He pulls Bruce from his meticulous logging. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why would I tell you?"

"Because-! Because I thought were friends, Bruce. I care about you, and just now, you went feral. Do you even know what could've happened if you spiralled lower? You could've snapped your own wrists just for a drop of blood and-" Clark breathes, "I don't want to watch you die, Bruce."

Bruce doesn't provide a response, instead he looks over Clark's shoulder and at the wall.

"How long have you gone without blood? How long has it been since you actually fed?"

At this, Clark notices the sudden tension of Bruce's shoulders, muscles coiling and locking up rigidly. He sees how Bruce is gritting his teeth, grinding his molars down, resisting biting his own tongue.

"Bruce."

And Clark waits, leans down and closer just to make sure that Bruce isn't avoiding his gaze even through the white lenses of his cowl.

"Since I was a child."

Clark feels his heart drop out of his ass. Bruce truly is incredibly to have survived for literal years on just regular human food, no doubt taking iron supplements too. Bruce could've gone feral in his teenage years, during his adolescence. It speaks of Bruce's strength, sure, but it also speaks of denial, of shame and guilt of having to feed off of blood.

Bruce has prided himself, for years now, on not having typical human strength, of being able to keep up with their super-powered peers just on his intellect, ingenuity, and skills alone.

Although vampirism doesn't give a person incredible strength, they have enough to over power any average human. Their senses normally are above average too, being able to taste the nuances of blood quality like how a person can taste the nuances of water.

But this, incredible as it may be, is just suicide and after years of being with Bruce, Clark refuses to just let that be. "Feed on me."

"What?"

Superman convinces Bruce to start feeding from him, using the Blue Kryptonite ring from and earlier post, usually while Bruce is thoroughly restrained, by convincing him he's earned it by becoming his Dom.

Clark and Bruce were already in a relationship for awhile with minimal success working on Bruce's issues before this.

Clark had an interest in bdsm for awhile now but between his powers and uncertainty about losing control of his strength with a human partner he'd never really pursued it.

Clark had an epiphany when he was telling Bruce to stop punishing himself.

"You trust me, don't you Bruce?"

Mmm, gentle dom Clark restraining Bruce before putting him in his lap and guiding Bruce's face to his neck.

"Go on, honey, drink up. You deserve it."

The first time they do it, Bruce moans at the taste of Clark's blood and sobs for a while after feeding. He's so overwhelmed by the taste and his body finally receiving what it needs but what he denied himself for so long.

The mailbox near his lodging was easy to find now that he’s done it before. He had almost fled back to Metropolis after the second night of it. There was Something, however, that writhed alongside the fear he felt coiling in his stomach that told him to wait, to stay. He listened, and the dreams did not go away, but they did change.

The dreams had begun to take shape. A specific shape; the shape of a dark form, chilled until warmed by his own touch, lethal from start to finish yet gentle throughout. He knew it was his own personal demon, a disease ravaging his dreams, sucking the light from his body and soul, a gift from a city built from grime and encased in gothic spires. Still, he couldn’t help but feel cared for. His demon, his shadow, was the kind of hunter who thanked the forest, the kind who thanked his kill for its providence, to gently close the eyes of their victim before dragging them home to butcher.

Soon he had begun to wake up feeling more tired than when he’d gone to bed, limbs cold and heavy, mind foggy and slow. When he managed to get himself up from his bed to look in the mirror, he was shocked at the ghastly look of his own face. What was usually full and warm with color and life was now drawn, gaunt, cheek bones drawing sharp shadows down to an even sharper jaw.

It took multiples of days to recover from these spells of illness sometimes, but the nights before waking with that faint, hollowed-out feeling, so intensely afraid that his body was lax and still, were the nights where the dreams were the most intense – the most sweet. He began to remember them now, the shape evolving into something more.

He would remember dreams of lying in his bed when the presence of his hunter would still his fearful tossing and turning, urging him to relax, to be still, just before the firm weight of another body would settle over his. The hands that touched him were not warm, but Clark desired to push into them anyway and ignore his racing heart, push towards the mouth that worked over his skin, the burn of the kisses left behind.

He remembered dreams where he’d slip out of bed and throw open the window, his room suddenly feeling overwhelmingly claustrophobic and too empty all at once. He’d lean out over the sill and breathe in the air of the night, closing his eyes as he waited. He would never hear his shadow settle next to him at the window, but he always sensed the presence, felt the wave of relaxation and pleasure just beneath the terror that would wash over him before that familiar body would lean against his.

He remembered the way the shadow would coax fearful whimpers between gasps, making his body tremble and give, how powerless he was to flee, to even tense up against the strong arms that surrounded him. He would wake, damp with sweat and sore from his shaking, breath coming fast and heavy.

Anticipation thrummed deep inside of him as he mailed off his second letter back to The Planet claiming the need for another week extension. He wasn’t sure the week would be necessary, however. Of all his dreams, last night’s had been the most damning. It had been the closest thing to a confirmation that he had ever gotten, and he had hope that tonight things would change.

He had leaned out his window again, waiting for those stinging lips and hypnotizing flashes of icy blue eyes in pitch-dark shadows. He hadn’t expected the hands which usually grabbed and pulled him to settle lightly on his shoulders and push him back until his knees hit the bed. He hadn’t expected the mouth that usually ravaged his skin to press against his mouth instead, to coax familiar sounds from him, tugging on that complicated knot of emotion nestled in his intestines and finding the string that stirred impossible heat in his groin.

He hadn’t expected to wake up and find his clothes askew, sticky with sweat and his own release, lips kiss-bitten and tingling, the window still open to let in the cool morning breeze. He had a fear – he had suspicions, hope even – that there was something more to his dreams. He hadn’t truly expected anything to come of those silly thoughts.

Ongoing and Finished Roleplay Masterlist

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This list includes roleplays both canon to the ongoing lore of the AU and those completely separate from canon or just unrelated to the primary plot!

All underlined text is a direct link to the first post in a roleplay and the following replies can be viewed in the reblogs tab of that post!

Every roleplay will be either marked Ongoing or Finished and anything that is canceled / cut short will simply be removed from the list.

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In-Order Vampire AU Lore Threads

Both my own threads and those of my friends for organizational purposes.

༒︎⊰ First meeting - Zatanna and Bruce - Finished RP Thread

༒︎⊰ Starving Vampire - Zatanna and Bruce - Ongoing RP Thread

༒︎⊰ Reunion - Oliver and Bruce - Ongoing RP Thread

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༒︎⊰ First Meeting - John and Zatanna - Discontinued RP Thread

༒︎⊰ First meeting - John and Bruce - Finished RP Thread

༒︎⊰ Bruce's Turning / John Kills Falcone - Discontinued RP Thread

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Non-Canon Roleplay Threads

༒︎⊰ The Gilded Age of Monsters - Ongoing RP Thread

༒︎⊰ A New Constantine - Finished? RP Thread

༒︎⊰ Vampire Teeth - Ongoing RP Thread

༒︎⊰ A Long Day (Modern Setting) - Ongoing RP Thread

༒︎⊰ Vampires + Eating - Convo w/ Voids

Well you give it to me and I turn it into a 4 panel comic

Bruce is a 400 old vampire, Alfred is a fae, and adopt supernatural children who need protection.

What do you think?

Ooo interesting! I usually keep it light-hearted with monster AUs, but I've been thinking that maybe vampires have a strict "No interspecies children" law. It's applied to unmarried/bonded vampires, usually.

Basically, aside from puritan bullshit ideologies and classism, vampires are regularly deemed as unfit parents due to being emotionally detached prone, always at risk of attacking a child that's not completely vampire.

You could also consider the angle that vampires aren't trustworthy because they'd use adopted/foster children as blood banks instead of getting an artificial store brand like modern vampires. We have Thomas Elliot to thank for that

The only reason Bruce, a product between a human and a vampire , came to be was because Thomas used his non-creature status and agreed to hire a supervisor (Alfred) at all times