“Do you know, Epel, why you have yet to become a proper vampire?”
The younger boy struggles with his fangs. “Because I haven’t learnt control?”
“Ah, perhaps.” Rook chuckles. “Yet that is not all, Monsieur Pommette.”
Suddenly there’s two sets of eyes, staring at him so eerily, despite being two different colours, two different gazes, two different people.
“Because…” His eyes darts between them. “Because I haven’t learnt how to suck blood properly?”
“Non, non, Monsieur.” Rook laughs, and Vil bends down, staring him straight in the eye. “Last try, Epel?”
“Because I—” He gulps. “I haven’t mastered it yet. The charm thing. The one you’re really good at, Vil-san.”
“Be as that may,” Vil grins. “You could not be more wrong, Epel.”
“Then…” The poor boy is left shaking in his cloak, purple hair tousled by the wind. “Then what is it, Vil-san?”
“It’s the coldness, the heart that no longer beats, yet embodies what calls us so intensely.” They all turn to look at the rustling in the distance, where an unfortunate hare has stumbled into the clearing. It’s not quite nearly enough to even be considered a snack, but Epel blinks once, and Vil is back, fangs dripping as he whispers every syllable clearly, so clearly, while the hare squirms in his hands, a last futile attempt for life.
“It’s the lust, Epel.” The hare stops twitching, when Vil sucks it dry, and hands the still-warm corpse over to Epel. “It’s the lust for blood.”
“It’s all about the blood spilled.” Rook chimes in, stroking a single long ear of the animal’s, as though comforting it, soothing it, apologising for its blood now running in his lover’s veins, for fun. “And we don’t do it just because we’re hungry.”
“We do it because it’s in our nature.” They whisper together, purple eyes matching greens, and Epel has never felt his heart beat faster in his life, than its phantom pulses now in undeath. “And that’s what you have yet to embrace.”
“The bloodlust of a vampire.”
—
“Charm and charisma take time,” Vil says, in heels so thin they could almost be an elongated version of the fangs Epel can’t control. “This, I will teach you.”
“Speed, stamina, stealth and strength, all take time, too.” Rook laughs, quiet and gentle, like he isn’t the one who’s swiftest with killing, a split second before he kneels before Vil and lays the dead body. “Those, I will teach you.”
“But bloodlust is what you need to learn, Epel, before all else.”
Unfortunately, in this huge, ornate castle, there isn’t any book on bloodlust.
“That’s quite a pity.” The two youngest skeletons walk with him, as they roam around the library. “They’re not teaching you much, are they?”
“Well, yours are, but look how you’re learning.” Epel grumbles. “I could grab your skeleton heart now, and you’d simply crumble to a heap of bones until I gave it back.”
“Look who’s got the bite.” Ace laughs. “We aren’t the ones who will disintegrate in daylight and have to hole up in this castle for permanent residence. I heard from Riddle-senpai and Trey-senpai that this isn’t even your castle. That Vil-senpai is friends with a mysterious eastern dragon they’re not willing to name. The library here is collated by the dragon.”
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🏹👑 Rookvil Collection~
Fanfictioncollection of some of the stuff I've written for the two of them since july '22! i just copy from my ao3 so likely there's more there, if you're looking for more :D also, i mainly tag it as rookvil/rkvl and say it as such, but I don't imply any of t...
