Exspecto anima sanguis 1/5
Title: Exspecto anima sanguis
Author/Artist: jayfray18
Fandom:CW RPS
Pairing: Jeffrey Dean Morgan/Jensen Ackles
Rating: NC17
Word Count:25000
Artist who did your art: the amazing deadflowers5 , thank you so much hun:) Her amazing artwork is here
Kink: Vampires, with a bit of a blood kink
Notes/Warnings: slash, blood kink, angst
Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing for a while.
Thank you to wildwordwomyn for all her help, advice, hand holding and for her brilliant beta'ing. Also for saving my sanity when my laptop decided to delete Word on Tuesday of last week, taking my entire fic with it and sending me her copy!
And thank you to silentflux for once again running this!
Summary:Vampires are real and live amongst humans, constantly searching for their feeder - the one human who will sustain them for eternity. After years of searching, Jeffrey Dean Morgan finds his feeder, only to watch her die in his arms at the moment of feeding. Her family, fueled by hatred and revenge become vampire hunters. Years later, Jensen Ackles has to decide between his family and their hatred of vampires, and his destiny as a feeder.
Prologue
London, May 1897
Sitting in one of the chairs flanking the fire place, Abraham ‘Bram’ Stoker closed the book. Running a finger over the red and yellow of the cover, he sighed. He had never been sure during the writing of Dracula - a Vampire’s search for his Feeder if he would ever approach a publishing house with his manuscript. It was too personal, evoking too many painful memories for them both, and told of things that he wasn’t sure the world was ready to hear. Even though he knew people needed to know what was contained within these pages.
A hand brushing against his shoulder brought the writer out of his fugue. Smiling tightly at the figure moving around the study to sit in the chair opposite, he handed the book over. Closing his eyes, Bram waited for a reaction. The silence stretched out for long, interminable minutes, only broken by the occasional turning of a page.
Unable to take the suspense any longer, Bram opened his eyes and asked, “Well?”
Alexander ‘Count’ Dracula, born in Szekely Land, Transylvania in the year 1425 watched the anxious man and let a grin slowly spread across his face.
“I still cannot believe you wrote a book about me, about us!” he laughed. “Did you write about my search for you? About feeding? About all the um, other things?” The pleasure and curiosity ran through his words.
Shaking his head, Bram moved over and sat on the floor between his vampire’s spread legs. “Some Alex, but I couldn’t write about the centuries you searched for me, about the pain you suffered. So I simply said that we met by chance 6 months after you became a vampire when I was touring Europe. And that you knew I was your feeder by my scent,” he said, cupping a hand around Dracula’s cheek, rubbing his thumb over the full lower lip of his lover. “The rest, however, is too personal to share with a reading populous.”
Putting the book aside, Alexander kissed his partner and smiled. “Thank you,” he said quietly. Moving back slightly, Dracula slowly pulled Stoker’s tie loose and removed the studs holding the starched white shirt closed. Pulling the shirt front apart, he placed a gentle kiss on the steadily pulsing vein he had revealed. “May I feed, my love?” Dracula asked softly as he breathed in the unique scent of his feeder.
Drawing in a ragged breath at the feel of cool lips ghosting over his skin, Bram nodded his ascent. Fangs lowered, Dracula wrapped his arm around Bram’s shoulder and bit down. They both moaned and pushed closer to each other. The blood flowed from one to the other, life sustaining for both. Lifting his head a minute later, Dracula licked at the already healing wounds before kissing Bram’s parted lips gently, familiarly. Leaning together, the men took a moment to enjoy the intimacy the feeding had engendered.
It was always like this between a vampire and his feeder; the one human that would be able to sustain a vampire for eternity, and was the reason that vampires ‘hunted’ for their feeder. Any human could be fed upon by a vampire. The aging process would be slowed down almost indefinitely, but only a vampire’s feeder could provide immortality - to both vampire and feeder.
Tales had been told for centuries about the blood-lust of vampires. Mostly exaggerated, or taken out of context; the rumors and stories spread from village to town, country to country. Descriptions of vampires sucking a human dry of their blood, of them turning into bats abounded. Folklore was rampant with details on a vampire’s weaknesses, on how to kill one.
It was one such rumor, heard in a country tavern in Exeter 15 years previous that had sent Bram to first Germany, then Hungary, and on into Transylvania, searching for the vampire Count Dracula. Ostracized by his family, forced to hunt humans to survive, Dracula had gained a reputation as a ruthless killer. But it was at odds with the man that Bram found himself inexplicably drawn to in a crumbling castle deep in the Carpathian Mountains.
But, as Bram had discovered when talking with Dracula the first day they met, the only piece of vampire lore that was correct was the way to kill one - a stake through the heart. Holy water only wet the skin, garlic added flavor to their food and sunlight tanned the skin. As many older vampires were originally members of the clergy, vampires obviously had no trouble with silver, crosses or holy ground, Dracula had told the astonished Irishman.
Unfortunately though, as with all creatures, there were good and bad. Most vampires would only take enough blood from a human that was not their feeder to survive, and only with permission. But some would glut themselves and drain the human, leaving a mere husk behind. As the tales of vampire killings grew, so fear of vampires grew, and they became some of the most hunted creatures on the planet.
Bram also learned during the days spent in the castle that every vampire had a feeder and that a vampire would search for their human, drawn by the unique scent that attracted them. Alexander said that Bram smelt of ink, cigars and cinnamon. And when Alexander was nearly asleep, that his feeder smelt of home.
“Do you think the book will change public views of vampires?” Bram asked later in the evening, after the couple had shared a dinner with friends wishing to celebrate the publication of his book.
“If it helps even one vampire find his feeder, or changes one human’s perception of vampires then it can only be for the good, my love,” Dracula said after a moment’s thought. “You cannot change the views of the world over night, Bram; tales of killer vampires - monsters of the night - have been around as long as vampires have existed. It may take just as long to change.”
Bram sighed wearily. He knew Alexander was right, but that did not stop him hoping that perceptions would be changed. Leaning into the older man, he watched as the flames of the fire danced and flickered in the grate. The hope that his book would make life more bearable for vampires was what had made him publish it in the end. He wanted to spare any vampire from the persecution that his own had suffered.
Alex ran his fingers through Bram’s hair as they sat quietly, recalling the pain of his long search, and the relief when he finally found his feeder. Bending forwards he placed a kiss on the top of Bram’s head. His feeder turned and looked at him, eyebrow raised in question.
“Just remembering,” Dracula said in answer to the unasked question.
Standing, Bram pulled his lover up with him. “Come,” he said, “Let us go make some new happier memories.”
Dracula laughed out loud as he followed Bram to their bedroom, closing the door on the world for a while.
Part one
Author/Artist: jayfray18
Fandom:CW RPS
Pairing: Jeffrey Dean Morgan/Jensen Ackles
Rating: NC17
Word Count:25000
Artist who did your art: the amazing deadflowers5 , thank you so much hun:) Her amazing artwork is here
Kink: Vampires, with a bit of a blood kink
Notes/Warnings: slash, blood kink, angst
Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing for a while.
Thank you to wildwordwomyn for all her help, advice, hand holding and for her brilliant beta'ing. Also for saving my sanity when my laptop decided to delete Word on Tuesday of last week, taking my entire fic with it and sending me her copy!
And thank you to silentflux for once again running this!
Summary:Vampires are real and live amongst humans, constantly searching for their feeder - the one human who will sustain them for eternity. After years of searching, Jeffrey Dean Morgan finds his feeder, only to watch her die in his arms at the moment of feeding. Her family, fueled by hatred and revenge become vampire hunters. Years later, Jensen Ackles has to decide between his family and their hatred of vampires, and his destiny as a feeder.
Prologue
London, May 1897
Sitting in one of the chairs flanking the fire place, Abraham ‘Bram’ Stoker closed the book. Running a finger over the red and yellow of the cover, he sighed. He had never been sure during the writing of Dracula - a Vampire’s search for his Feeder if he would ever approach a publishing house with his manuscript. It was too personal, evoking too many painful memories for them both, and told of things that he wasn’t sure the world was ready to hear. Even though he knew people needed to know what was contained within these pages.
A hand brushing against his shoulder brought the writer out of his fugue. Smiling tightly at the figure moving around the study to sit in the chair opposite, he handed the book over. Closing his eyes, Bram waited for a reaction. The silence stretched out for long, interminable minutes, only broken by the occasional turning of a page.
Unable to take the suspense any longer, Bram opened his eyes and asked, “Well?”
Alexander ‘Count’ Dracula, born in Szekely Land, Transylvania in the year 1425 watched the anxious man and let a grin slowly spread across his face.
“I still cannot believe you wrote a book about me, about us!” he laughed. “Did you write about my search for you? About feeding? About all the um, other things?” The pleasure and curiosity ran through his words.
Shaking his head, Bram moved over and sat on the floor between his vampire’s spread legs. “Some Alex, but I couldn’t write about the centuries you searched for me, about the pain you suffered. So I simply said that we met by chance 6 months after you became a vampire when I was touring Europe. And that you knew I was your feeder by my scent,” he said, cupping a hand around Dracula’s cheek, rubbing his thumb over the full lower lip of his lover. “The rest, however, is too personal to share with a reading populous.”
Putting the book aside, Alexander kissed his partner and smiled. “Thank you,” he said quietly. Moving back slightly, Dracula slowly pulled Stoker’s tie loose and removed the studs holding the starched white shirt closed. Pulling the shirt front apart, he placed a gentle kiss on the steadily pulsing vein he had revealed. “May I feed, my love?” Dracula asked softly as he breathed in the unique scent of his feeder.
Drawing in a ragged breath at the feel of cool lips ghosting over his skin, Bram nodded his ascent. Fangs lowered, Dracula wrapped his arm around Bram’s shoulder and bit down. They both moaned and pushed closer to each other. The blood flowed from one to the other, life sustaining for both. Lifting his head a minute later, Dracula licked at the already healing wounds before kissing Bram’s parted lips gently, familiarly. Leaning together, the men took a moment to enjoy the intimacy the feeding had engendered.
It was always like this between a vampire and his feeder; the one human that would be able to sustain a vampire for eternity, and was the reason that vampires ‘hunted’ for their feeder. Any human could be fed upon by a vampire. The aging process would be slowed down almost indefinitely, but only a vampire’s feeder could provide immortality - to both vampire and feeder.
Tales had been told for centuries about the blood-lust of vampires. Mostly exaggerated, or taken out of context; the rumors and stories spread from village to town, country to country. Descriptions of vampires sucking a human dry of their blood, of them turning into bats abounded. Folklore was rampant with details on a vampire’s weaknesses, on how to kill one.
It was one such rumor, heard in a country tavern in Exeter 15 years previous that had sent Bram to first Germany, then Hungary, and on into Transylvania, searching for the vampire Count Dracula. Ostracized by his family, forced to hunt humans to survive, Dracula had gained a reputation as a ruthless killer. But it was at odds with the man that Bram found himself inexplicably drawn to in a crumbling castle deep in the Carpathian Mountains.
But, as Bram had discovered when talking with Dracula the first day they met, the only piece of vampire lore that was correct was the way to kill one - a stake through the heart. Holy water only wet the skin, garlic added flavor to their food and sunlight tanned the skin. As many older vampires were originally members of the clergy, vampires obviously had no trouble with silver, crosses or holy ground, Dracula had told the astonished Irishman.
Unfortunately though, as with all creatures, there were good and bad. Most vampires would only take enough blood from a human that was not their feeder to survive, and only with permission. But some would glut themselves and drain the human, leaving a mere husk behind. As the tales of vampire killings grew, so fear of vampires grew, and they became some of the most hunted creatures on the planet.
Bram also learned during the days spent in the castle that every vampire had a feeder and that a vampire would search for their human, drawn by the unique scent that attracted them. Alexander said that Bram smelt of ink, cigars and cinnamon. And when Alexander was nearly asleep, that his feeder smelt of home.
“Do you think the book will change public views of vampires?” Bram asked later in the evening, after the couple had shared a dinner with friends wishing to celebrate the publication of his book.
“If it helps even one vampire find his feeder, or changes one human’s perception of vampires then it can only be for the good, my love,” Dracula said after a moment’s thought. “You cannot change the views of the world over night, Bram; tales of killer vampires - monsters of the night - have been around as long as vampires have existed. It may take just as long to change.”
Bram sighed wearily. He knew Alexander was right, but that did not stop him hoping that perceptions would be changed. Leaning into the older man, he watched as the flames of the fire danced and flickered in the grate. The hope that his book would make life more bearable for vampires was what had made him publish it in the end. He wanted to spare any vampire from the persecution that his own had suffered.
Alex ran his fingers through Bram’s hair as they sat quietly, recalling the pain of his long search, and the relief when he finally found his feeder. Bending forwards he placed a kiss on the top of Bram’s head. His feeder turned and looked at him, eyebrow raised in question.
“Just remembering,” Dracula said in answer to the unasked question.
Standing, Bram pulled his lover up with him. “Come,” he said, “Let us go make some new happier memories.”
Dracula laughed out loud as he followed Bram to their bedroom, closing the door on the world for a while.
Part one