Bloody roses

17: Home

Two purebloods down. Lacrimă in a coma, and Vlad currently cut open. Faust could have been having the time of his life between Vlad’s organs. But he only focused on the analysis. What the old geezer was kept alive with. Because that was what Lacrimă missed. Between blood and gore, Faust’s mind worked tirelessly. His mind was close to abandoning all logic for his poor little meow meow. She was going to be his in the end, and if she wasn’t, he didn’t know what he was supposed to do.

When Charles dared enter Faust’s lab, he was greeted by a scary but undeniably attractive sight. Faust stood over Vlad, whose chest was cut open. The table was overflowing in fresh blood. Faust’s arms were raised, his fingers curled into a claw-like position, rivulets of blood running down from them. Poisonous orbs pointed at the full moon in an expression of madness. But Charles knew

“Docteur, do you want me to hand you the vial over there?”
“Oh, yes, Charles, do that.”

Faust filled the vial with a mysterious purple liquid he’d extracted from Vlad’s blood, then, without an ounce of a warning, lunged at Charles’ throat.

“D-Docteur.. I knew you loved me.. Nhh..”
“Shut your mouth, you pest.”

Instead of drinking the thick red liquid seeping down from Charles’ assaulted neck, Faust caught it in the vial as well. After a moment of hesitation, he sunk his razor-sharp fangs into his own wrist as well, letting the blood drip into the vial as well.

Minutes later, the vial met Lacrimă’s pale lips. Even with the mixture being poured down her throat, the vampiress didn’t move a limb. Faust sighed, a lonely tear sliding down the corner of his eye and being caught in his glasses. Charles, who held the vial, moved to withdraw it. Then, an iron grip locked his arm in place. When, finally, his eyes shifted down hesitantly, his love was greedily swallowing the mixture, holding him in place.

“Lacrimă? Mon aimée?”
“Komm schon… Aufwachen!”

Lacrimă still didn’t understand German, but she obeyed Faust’s order nevertheless. Black eyelashes blinked once, twice… and then stayed open.

“Charles? Johann?”
“I’m here.”
“You’re awake!”

Then, Faust shrieked. His room was still covered in blood from the countless tries at waking her up. He got up, ready to force Lacrimă back into the mattress, fully expecting her to rush for the blood. Even though it would be an amusing sight to see her lap it from the ground, she was in no condition for that. But she didn’t. When he looked down, he could see her tonguing Charles down. Did his “cure” actually do his job despite its unlucky side effect? Of course it did. He was a genius, after all.
And how dare they start making out without him? Clearly, they both needed to be taught who was in charge here.

Had a poll on tumblr about whether to write this smut, and it was 63% yes, so here you go, I guess, I’m trying my best.  

“Charles, off. Little Devil, knees.”

Charles knew what to do, after all he’d had experience for his ‘house calls’. Yet, it still took him by surprise that Lacrimă submitted to Faust after just one night. Docteur couldn't be that much of a tamer, could he?
Lacrimă could feel the headspace returning from when she’d first shared a bed with Faust. The desire to submit overcame her and she followed its lead, dropping to her knees. As soon as she did, a hand petted her head rewardingly.

“Who said you were allowed to have fun without explicit permission? It’s quite obvious you’re a thot, Charl, but I would’ve expected better from you, Lacrimă… well, i shouldn’t have, you little vixen. Go think about how you can make it up to me.”
“Docteur, I’ll take any punishment you have in mind, I’m ready!”
“I agree with Charles, sir.”
“Good pets.”