bakerstreet | Lost boys

Lost boys

KISS OF THE VAMPIRE

Vampires tend to have a lot of sex appeal. It may be because Evil Is sexy for some, but not all vampires are evil, so maybe it's because they're bad boys or sultry femme fatales. Maybe people just figure hundreds of years of practice at love making makes vampires really, really good at it. On the other hand, the bloodsucking may be a great fetish source, something about a quick sting of pain followed by pleasure.

When a vampire is hungry and isn't quite so decent or hard up as to lower himself to only buying blood at the butcher's or trapping and draining small animals instead, their dietary supplement of preference is human blood. However, vampires can make the experience of being a drink box not just bearable, but pleasurable for the donor.

( Text from these TVTropes articles. )

Roles
1. Vampire
2. Victim

Prompts
1. Willing - You're either a friend of vampire offering up a quick bite...or you know what you like and that's being a giving person.
2. Unwilling - They want your blood, but you're not up to parting with it. Can you withstand the pleasure, however?
3. Fluffy - How can you make the hungry undead warm and sweet? They could just be jaded from all the cruelty they've seen or dealt out and want something different.
4. Romantic - Is it worse to be the prey of a vampire - or their lover? At least with the latter, they'll try to treat you gently.
5. Rough - The opposite of the above; this vampire couldn't care less about you and treats you like a slab of meat.
6. Dangerous - This is no kitten you're playing with. Remember, your life hangs in the balance if they sink their fangs too far...
7. Purely Sexual - Both of you are into a little bit of bloodplay. One of you just gets dinner on the side.

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[I don't know why I'm like this but I can completely see Loki as an energy vampire not unlike Colin Robinson in WWDitS. So if you want a quirky/funny twist on the theme, bring it.

Alternatively I am more than happy for him to be a victim and/or willing snack. Trickster god blood has to be good for something.]

Edited 2023-09-14 20:37 (UTC)

(Luka is an elder vampire so he’s for sure the biter in this scenario. Open to all persons above drinking (get it?) age and all situations except unwilling. Hmu, he’s big hot and dumb, what more could you ask for?)

[More than likely the victim in this scenario. I'm open to any of the prompts except for unwilling*.

Alternately, she's the pinkest vampire one might imagine, in which case she's more than likely using her unassuming appearance to her advantage. Willing to roll with some kind of AU where exposure to the Upside Down turned her into a vampire, or just assume she was bitten one night while she was out walking. Open to all of the prompts except for unwilling*.

*I did say I'm open to most of the above, but numbers 5-7 are only on the table if we've threaded before and/or if we chat about it first.]

[He's a semi-professional victim. Which is to say he's actually just a willing juice-box, as it were. He works at a supernatural-creature-friendly bar and even though he isn't officially on the menu, those in need know who to ask for.]

Luka Forrester, seven feet of vampire and muscle, is a regular face at the bar. Being so tall he’s hard to miss and the length of his reach means he can stick tip money further over the bar than most. Tonight he’s got several dollars poking out between his white suede gloved fingers. The rest of him is in black and cream, and he’s starving for a drink.

"Well hello again, Sweetness, looking sharp tonight." Where from someone else a statement like that might have been a backwards jab, or some kind of come-on, with Zepar it was just... Zepar. He always had a compliment for whoever he was serving, and sometimes more than one for the regulars, or even just the new arrivals who clearly needed the pick-me-up.

He flashed a smile, both hands braced against the edge of the bar, leaning forwards just a little, "What can I get you started with?" Where the compliment hadn't exactly been a come-on, that question almost was, it was just the way he operated as often as not.

“Hello yourself, beautiful thing.” Luka is as much himself as Zepar is, and right now himself could use a drink. He sticks the money in the niche between the bartop and the dish of lime slices and candied cherries. His big suede hands are spread in front of him, for Zepar or a glass, and he hunches forward on the bar. He smiles with big, sharp teeth, looking a touch pathetic despite himself. “If you’ll make me a Scotch and soda right now I’ll owe you everything left of my soul, Zepar. And whatever pieces of paper I still have in my wallet.”

He laughed warmly as he pushed himself up away from the bar again, spiriting the tip away into the drawer under the bar and snagging a glass, flipping it easily over the back of his hand, "Bossman says we aren't allowed to accept souls as legal tender anymore, I'm afraid, so the cash'll have to do."

He drummed his fingers lightly against the rim of the glass, "Now, do you want a regular scotch and soda, or do you want a scotch mist with the lemon zest and the crushed ice?" It was halfway to making sure of the order and halfway to making a suggestion, the way he often did things, the same way that he turned one hand over, palm -and wrist- up just for a moment, "And just the cocktail, or are you going to need a chaser?"

“Ooh, dear me. If you won’t take my soul at least take my admiration.” Luka grins and leans forward, looking impressed. “Scotch and lemon with crushed ice, please dear.”
His yellow eyes move from Zepar’s face along his shoulder and down to his wrist. Luka takes the back of his hand between his thumb and forefinger, very gently.
“I can’t say ‘no.’ But make the drink first, you’ll need both hands.”

"Oh of course, darling." He replied with a wink, "Work first and all."

There was an art to the way Zepar made cocktails that wasn't the juggling showmanship of many bartenders, but wasn't the exacting perfection of others. He rolled the lemon twist over the rim of the glass before dropping it in and adding the ice with one hand while he measured the scotch with the other, giving it a quick stir with a bar spoon to make sure the ice wasn't frozen to the glass before flipping a coaster off the top of the stack to set it neatly in front of Luka, followed by the glass almost perfectly centered.

While Zepar poured Luka drew off his suede gloves, tucking them away before taking his drink in one big, dark and blueish hand. He bowed his head to Zepar’s expertise, took the obligatory first sip and let his face melt with relief.
“You outdo yourself, Zepar. What do I owe you? For the drink and the rest?”

There was another easy smile at the question, "We'll call it a double, so twelve. Would you like me to open a tab or is this all you're having?"

Some of them liked to play it by ear, some of them only wanted the one drink, some of them kept a tab open all night, and while he did his best to remember which was which, it was easier just to ask.

Luka handed over too much money because, like almost vampires, he had never traded his paper money for a piece of plastic.
“Keep it open.”
He took his drink and nodded towards an empty two-top not far from the bar. He pushed off of the bar towards it.
“And as for the rest, come and sit with me when you’re ready.”

He gave a half-teasing salute, just flicking two fingers away from his temple. It didn't take him more than a few minutes to tidy up his station and flag down the other bartender to let her know he was going to be out of commission for a few minutes.

That done, however, he dropped easily into the seat across from Luka, "Well hello sailor..." He trailed off with a wheezing laugh, shaking his head, "No, sorry, can't keep that one up, shouldn't have started with that."

“‘Hello sailor?’” Luka breaks into a grin, sitting back to take the joke in. Under the table his big legs brush Zepar’s. He sits with one hand hanging from his scotch glass. “That is an old line, even to me. And I won’t be leaving a year’s wage here with you, dear. That I can ‘ashore’ you.”
Luka, irrepressibly funny to himself, raises his eyebrows and then breaks into his own laugh. As he does Zepar hears a sharpness that is nowhere in his speaking voice, and gets a good look at his fangs. They are more primordial than other vampires’, closer to the curve of an axe blade than the needle-like incisors others have.

The response got a roil of a laugh out of Zepar if nothing else, the kind that started as a low chuckle but soon simmered up into actual bright laughter, "That's the one I was looking for, should have known you'd pick up what I was laying down."

His head tilted a little at the revelation of those fangs. They weren't entirely unfamiliar, though they were uncommon, but still enough to have him nodding almost absently as he commented: "You, my friend, are going to need an elbow and not just a wrist."

“There’s another thing you ought to know,” Luka said into the crushed ice of his drink. He set it down, moved around the table to be close to him, and took Zepar’s hand. He extended one of Zepar’s fingers and brought it up to his mouth. His lips opened and Luka ran the tip of Zepar’s finger very gently over the tip of one fang. It was such a delicate movement that Zepar didn’t feel a thing, not even the cool smoothness of the bone, before a droplet of blood swelled up from a tiny scratch on the tip of his finger. The bite stung as air met his split skin.
“They’re sharp,” Luka said, underselling. “And that’s it. There’s no magic to make it feel good, or to close up a wound. If you’re hoping for the kind of bite that will make you swoon, dear, you won’t find it here.”

He held up that finger, along with that berry-bright droplet, turning his hand over with a little flourish, pressing his thumb to the spot, the motion akin to crushing an insect between the digits, there was a faint prickle of something like charred ozone in the air, there and gone again just as quickly and he held the fingertip up again, unmarked and whole once more, giving a little tilt of his head, almost a shrug, "That won't be a problem."

He didn't have much Divine Grace left after everything, but he had enough for minor miracles, and that level of healing definitely counted, it was the sort of thing he usually used it for, all in all.

Seeing Zepar’s minor miracle had Luka’s eyes wide and his mouth watering. He had drank from countless humans and plenty of other extra-human individuals but angels, fallen or otherwise, were a rarity.
He couldn’t guess if Zepar’s blood would make him high as a kite, horny, or burn him from the inside out. But variety was the spice of life!
He swallowed softly and composed himself, putting his hand out for Zepar’s arm.
“Then let’s have at it.”

Zepar hadn't had issues with burning anyone up before, though more than one had described his blood as 'spicy' or even 'tingly', and as far as he knew both were apt, and most he'd helped had marveled over the fact that they didn't need as much as they normally would to be satisfied.

He shifted forward in his seat slightly so that he could extend his arm, the angle wasn't ideal, but it wasn't terrible, either, "Go ahead."

Luka took Zepar’s arm, one hand at his elbow and the other holding his wrist. He made sure they were more or less comfortable before leaning forward and biting.
Zepar didn’t feel the bite, at first. Instead he felt his blood being drawn, the pressure of Luka’s lips, and beyond that something else. All vampires drank to fill the black hole at the center of their being, Luka was no different. But his was hungrier, closer. Zepar could feel that, if he wasn’t stopped, Luka would drain him and be hungry for more. His arm went numb and cold, he finally felt Lukams teeth as a steely sharpness barring him from moving. His grip was the same cold steel.
Luka stayed bent over his arm, drinking for longer than most would have needed. The black hole roiled and expanded, crushing in more and more of the universe.
And then Luka sighed, opened his steely jaws and picked his head up. He was a neat drinker, without so much as a drop spilling over his lip.
He sighed happily, smiled with red teeth and pressed a cocktail napkin to Zepar’s bite. One hand stroked the white hair at the base of his jaw as he spoke.
“I see what they mean. There’s a little incense, a little citric twinge. It’s very nice, quite a cocktail.”

[As the vampire: he got into the line of work he's in so he could have easy access to meals that he's not likely to see again and nobody's the wiser.
As the victim: his agency provides essentially vampire meals on wheels, though there are stringent rules and regulations and protections of the agents.]

[Vampire or victim! Options 1, 4, 5, 6, 7 all sound like they could be fun!]

[ She's pretty obviously the vampire here. And not the kind that gets blood from the butcher's. ]

[Look. He has the chops for it already, just make ‘em a little sharper…

Alternatively, he’s your victim! In good health, but that muscular, thick neck is probably a pain to bite through unwilling?]

[ Nothing overtly sexual because duh, but if you know Anne Rice, you know things are bound to get problematic, codependent, and uncomfy. ]

[Vampire or victim.]

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Lost boys

Loki / MCU / OTA

Luka Forrester —OC— definitely 1

Chrissy Cunningham | Stranger Things

Zepar + OC + OTA

Howdy howdy how do you do?

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Gabreel King + OC + OTA

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