Chapter Text
Tommy was hungry.
He'd left the decently-sized apartment he shared with his coven that evening under the guise of simply going for a walk. Tubbo had glanced up from his place on the couch where he was playing Animal Crossing and narrowed his eyes at Tommy when he'd announced it, raising an eyebrow sceptically. "Don't kill anyone."
Tommy'd scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Me? Never, Tubs." And then he'd left.
Prime, Tommy wanted to kill someone.
It had been nearly a month and a half since he'd last fed on fresh prey, and refrigerated blood stolen from the local blood bank was so stale. Drinking it barely held a candle to the raging inferno of ecstasy he felt when taking it straight from the source. Tommy didn't expect Tubbo or Ranboo to understand his hunger. How could they? He was a bloody Original, and while they definitely enjoyed draining a person of their blood, they could still eat human food. They were second-generation vampires, their vampiric instincts less potent than his. They were content masquerading as humans, pretending to be things that they weren't. But Tommy?
He was hardwired to kill.
It was in his veins, it thrummed in his unbeating heart. It had since the day he slaughtered the cult that had tried and succeeded to infuse his soul with the void. Tommy shut his eyes, remembering how he relished in the screams of their leader as he tore out his throat. It happened centuries ago, but the memory never failed to spark—no, ignite— his instincts.
It was then when his heightened senses picked up the sound of breathing from an alleyway just ten feet ahead of him.
Tommy struggled to hide a sinister grin. Tubbo had told him to not kill anyone, but if it was in self-defence, it was free game.
He continued on walking, each step bringing him closer to his next meal until he could hear the excited heartbeat of his soon-to-be victim.
When he finally passed by the dark opening, two meaty hands lunged out, one wrapping around his wrist and the other around his mouth. Usually, Tommy would wait a little bit and play along with his 'attacker,' letting them think they were in control, but when the idiot pretty much shoved his radial and ulnar arteries into Tommy's face? Well, he couldn't wait.
He immediately looked the man in his eyes, locking their gazes and successfully ensnaring him in his thrall. For a moment, Tommy said nothing, only smiled as he relied on uncanny valley to tell the man that he was in deep shit. It seemed to work as the man's glee quickly turned to a terror that Tommy delighted in, his heartbeat speeding up in fear. Tommy used his free hand to remove the grip around his mouth. "Don't move," He commanded, his voice dripping with power. "And don't make a sound." He added, almost as an afterthought. His prey had no choice but to obey. It was known that once you were caught in a vampire's thrall, you were completely at their mercy and should just pray that your death would be painless.
Smiling at the paralysed man, Tommy wasted no time tearing into his jugular with his sharp teeth. He tore at the artery and suctioned his lips over the gushing wound, sucking blood from the man's neck like he was nothing more than a fleshy Capri Sun. Tommy noticed his dinner's heartbeat weakening, fading fast, but Tommy was nowhere near done yet. Without detaching from the man's neck, he guided his nearly-limp body to the ground so he could feed more comfortably. Tommy could almost feel his pupils dilate as his vampiric instincts took over. He finally pulled away, allowing the spurts of blood to spray his face and shirt. Guess there's no way of hiding this from Tubbo now. He mused in his head, abandoning all of his previous efforts to minimise the mess as he lifted the man's wrist to his mouth and savagely bit into it, letting the intoxicating liquid to spread across his taste buds.
And then, from the mouth of the alleyway, he heard a gasp.
Tommy whirled around, turning his back to his meal as he met eyes with another man. His command quickly sprang from his lips. "Don't move," He snarled, standing up. "And don't make a sound." It was exactly what he'd said to the other man.
He turned back to his victim. He couldn't hear a heartbeat anymore, a fact that he noted with disdain, but the blood was still warm. Tommy knelt at the dead man's side and grabbed his arm once more, drinking until there was hardly enough left to fill a shot glass. Sighing contently, he stood up again and turned to the other man once more, wiping his bloody face on the back of his sleeve. The man's scent was... nostalgic. Familiar. It intrigued him.
"Come here." Tommy commanded, relishing in the fear that sped the man's heartbeat. He seemed to be pleading with Tommy with only his eyes, unshed tears glistening against blue irises that weren't unlike his own. Tommy smiled, a wicked grin that was anything but comforting. Once the man was standing just half a foot away from him, he issued another command. "You can talk."
The man almost immediately began speaking.
"Please, mate, please don't kill me, I, I've gotta get home to my... home to my boys, please." He sniffled, terrified. "I won't tell any-anyone what I sa-saw. Please, I just want- want to go home." The first tears fell, and Tommy was suddenly... not as happy as he was before? What?
The familiar scent came back, stronger than before, and Tommy gasped as he realised why he recognised it.
Kristin.
Tommy observed the man with wide eyes. Why did he smell like Kristin? She was dead—and even if she'd had the chance to sire another fledgling before she was killed, a thrall wasn't supposed to work on other vampires.
Why did this human smell like Kristin?
Theseus Innet was a monster.
He didn't know what the men in red cloaks had done to him during the 'Ritual.' All he knew now was that he hungered for blood and that he couldn't go out into the sun, like even the light was aware he was less than human. His parents had named him Theseus because they said he was their 'little hero—' but they'd neglected to mention that Theseus had, eventually, fallen.
He spent his days in the woods, sunlight blocked out by the thick canopy of the shady oaks. He stayed far away from any humans and allowed his sickening bloodlust to purge itself on the occasional squirrel, which always left him hungering for more.
Theseus couldn’t help but to remember the way the humans who had done this to him tasted, how their blood had satiated him so.
He shivered, suppressing the thoughts. He didn’t want to be a monster.
It was then that his newly enhanced senses picked up the sound of breathing, and Theseus began to panic.
No, there aren’t supposed to be people out here! He trembled. It’d been weeks since the last squirrel— if this person went near him, he knew he wouldn’t be able to control himself.
Let yourself feast, Theseus, A dark voice in his head suggested in a lighthearted tone, as though it wasn’t telling him to kill somebody. If they were dumb enough to waltz right into the jaws of death, then give them what they deserve.
Theseus ran.
The roots on the forest floor cut his legs, black blood spilling from the wounds before the skin knit itself back together. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been running for, or even where he was. When he collapsed on the dirt, it wasn’t from exhaustion. Sobs wracked his shaking body— he just wanted to be human.
When he heard a stick break just behind him, he whirled around.
The woman standing there was stunning, with ebony black hair framing her heart-shaped face and a dark wide-brimmed hat on her head.
She had a kind smile and her eyes were a deep chestnut brown. Theseus didn’t know how this woman, draped in delicate black silks and an expensive-looking sunhat, had managed to chase him through the thick vegetation, but the moment he saw her elegantly long neck he knew it was all over.
Theseus couldn’t control himself as he leapt forwards, his hands grabbing the woman’s shoulders and pulling her vulnerable throat down to meet his sickeningly sharp teeth. He cried as he drank, disgusted with himself and his lack of control, but unable to stop. He hardly noticed when the woman wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer and giving him easier access to her neck. She stroked his golden hair and murmured praises into his ear, telling him how good he was doing and assuring him that he was okay as he feasted on her blood. By the time Theseus drank his fill, he was hiccupping and sobbing, trembling in the woman’s embrace as he regained control over his body. The boy could feel rivulets of blood trickling down his chin, dripping onto the woman’s silken gown.
“I-I’m sorry!” He wailed into her shoulder. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to… mean to, I swear!”
The woman hushed him. “Shhh, it’s alright. You’re okay, little fledgling, and so am I.” Her long fingers continued to card through his hair comfortingly as he cried. “You’ve done so well, surviving out here on your own, but you don’t need to be alone anymore.”
“I-I… You-you’re okay?” He whispered wetly, voice breaking to which the woman cooed sadly.
“Yes, child. I’m okay.” She pulled away from the hug and Theseus whined, touch-starved from the months he’d spent alone. She tilted his face towards hers with two of her fingers, rich brown eyes meeting watery blue. “I know you didn’t mean to, little one. You can’t hurt me— I’m like you.”
Theseus’s eyes widened. “You… You’re like… me?”
She smiled with her teeth, revealing lengthy fangs as she made a noise of affirmation. Theseus inhaled sharply.
“You’re a… you’re a monster like me?” He questioned softly, a fat tear rolling down his cheek.
“We’re not monsters, you and I. We’re unfortunate, sure, but we’re not monsters.” She wiped the drop of water off his face, caressing his cheek gently. “What’s your name, little fledgling?”
A sniffle. “I’m Theseus.”
The woman smiled in a way that was almost maternal. “Nice to meet you, dearest Theseus. I’m Kristin.”
Tommy scowled, shaking his head as though he could dislodge the memories of his mother-figure. Turning his attention back to (His captive? His prey? His family ?) the man, a glint of green caught his eye. Bringing his hand up to the side of the man’s head, right below his ear, Tommy’s fingers met a cool crystal that hung from a golden chain— an emerald that shimmered in the dim light.
He instantly recognized it as Kristin’s.
“ Where did you get this? ” He growled, glaring at the petrified man.
“My wife!” He cried, unable to disobey the thrall. “My wife… my wife gave it to me. Both of my bo-boys have one, too.” He sniffled.
With that, Tommy felt a pang of… something. “Your name.”
The man stared at him, tears and confusion swimming in his eyes.
Tommy snarled. “What. Is. Your. Name? ” He demanded, poking his chest with a sharp nail with each word. “Don’t tell me you need me to command you.”
The man shook his head rapidly. “Phil!” He— Phil blurted out. “Well, it’s Philza, but everyone… they all call me Phil.”
Something was up with Kristin, and Tommy knew that for a fact.
She was always smiling, always looking into the sunset like her mind was elsewhere. Tommy had caught her toying with the ring that had popped up onto her hand weeks before multiple times, and her reflexes were slower. She was also gone more often, and when asked about where she was, she’d sputter and mutter some excuse about ‘shopping.’
Kristin hated shopping
“I just don’t get it!” He grumbled frustratedly to Tubbo and Ranboo. “Is she sick? Does she not want to be in the coven anymore? Has she found a new coven?”
Tubbo and Ranboo traded glances, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Tommy. “What? Am I missing something here!?”
Tubbo chuckled. “Boss man… she hasn’t found a new coven.”
“And she’s not exactly sick, either.” Ranboo said, also snickering.
“Wha—? Stop laughing! Don’t pat-ron-ize me!” Tommy glared at his two best friends, who promptly ignored him.
“Well, she’s kinda sick,” Tubbo mused, sighing dramatically. “Kristin is love sick.”
“Bullshit,” Tommy snorted. “Kristin’s the only woman ever— she’d never go and get herself some stupid guy. Or a girl. Lesbian rights, but my point still stands.”
“Well, it‘s not uncommon for vampires to get themselves a significant other,” Ranboo said. “Like, look at Sapnap and Quackity.”
“Sapnap, Quackity, and Karl — they’re in a polygon or whatever it‘s called,” Tubbo pointed out from his spot on the couch. “They’ve been together for… two decades, I think? They turned Karl pretty quickly.”
“Oh, Karl Jacobs? The witch who wrote that book on soothsaying?”
“Yeah, that one—“
“Does this matter?” Tommy asked exasperatedly.
“Not really.”
“Nope.”
Tommy stared blankly at his covenmates.
“Anyways, Toms, that ring Kristin’s always wearing? It’s a human tradition. S’called an engagement ring. ” Ranboo said, faintly smiling.
“So… Kristin’s… in love… with a human? ” Tommy stressed each syllable as if it would change the meaning of the statement.
The other two boys both froze.
Tubbo blinked. “Huh. I guess I didn’t realise that.”
“ How could you not realise that!? ” The blonde boy screeched. “That’s, like, the only thing I realised!”
“How did I not pick up on the fact that a human tradition probably equals a human?” Ranboo muttered to himself.
“Maybe because you’re both stupid, Ranbo—” Tommy cut himself off as the door to the coven’s shared apartment opened and Kristin waltzed through, practically glowing, and he wondered how he didn’t see the whole ‘in love’ thing earlier.
Kristin had just begun to kick off her shoes when she noticed the three boys watching her. “Oh, hey guys!” She smiled brightly, a sight that Tommy usually adored— that is, when it wasn’t happening because his mum had the hots for a human. “Just got back from shopping, sorry I took so long.”
“Shopping?” He questioned, allowing disbelief to bleed into his voice.
“Yeah, first I went to this cute antique shop, but nothing there really caught my eye, so I ended up heading to—”
“Kristin.” Tommy stopped her. “We know about the engagement.”
At this, Kristin froze. “Ah.”
“And we know it’s a human.” Tubbo added.
“Ah.”
“And we… we know other things too!” Ranboo declared, raising his finger in the air. “Like… other things!” Tubbo patted his head for the effort.
“Ah.” She shifted uncomfortably, not meeting any of their gazes, least of all Tommy’s. Although Kristin had been the one to find him and teach him about being a vampire, Tommy was still nearly a century older than her and far more powerful. “I… I can explain.”
All three of the boys nodded. “Please do.” They said in unison.
And so she did— Kristin told them about how she’d met a dashing man with two young sons at the library she worked at nearly an entire year ago, and how just a month later, they’d had their first date. She spoke of how much she loved this man, laughing at how the boys pretended to gag at her descriptions of how being with him felt. She described how quickly their relationship moved along and how she almost felt human around him. When she’d mentioned how much his seven-year-old son, Wilbur, reminded her of Tommy, the boy in question scoffed, but he allowed her to continue. Apparently the man was named Phil (which, in Tommy’s humble opinion, sounded like the name of a little bitch), and he had two twin sons, Wilbur and Technoblade (which Tommy thought was complete bullshit).
“He asked me if I had any kids around our third date,” She smiled. “I panicked and told him yes. So, he thinks that you three are my adopted sons. I didn’t know how you’d take it, so I just told him that you didn’t know I was in the dating scene.”
“Well, we didn’t know, so that part’s true.” Tubbo pointed out.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Kristin chuckled. “I was actually planning on telling you guys sometime next week… I wanted to have dinner with him and his sons with you guys there.”
“Kristin, the only woman ever,” Tommy said. “I think you’ve forgotten that I, Theseus Innet, the biggest man in the history of ever, cannot eat human food.”
“I know, I was going to come up with something about diet restrictions and bring you your own meal.” She replied, tucking a lock of black hair behind her ear. “I’ve been experimenting with infusing human food with blood so us Originals can eat it!”
Tommy blinked. “Kristin, this is why you’re the only woman ever.” He deadpanned. It’d been centuries since he’d had human food, and he could already feel the taste of a delicious burger passing over his tongue.
Kristin just smiled. “You guys will love Phil. He’s a great guy.”
Philza Craft had always been the ‘hero’ type. Rescuing cats from trees, helping lost children find their parents, de-escalating convenience store robberies, you name it. He’d always been told that his heart was too big for the terrible world he was born in, or that his compassion would get him killed one day, but he couldn’t help it. Phil liked to help people, so when he saw a boy who couldn’t be any older than fifteen being pulled into an alleyway, he immediately jumped into action.
It took him just under fifteen seconds to reach the alley, and he silently prayed that it wasn’t too late for the poor boy. However, what he saw shocked him— the boy that he’d been so hell-bent on rescuing crouched over the bloody body of his assailant. Phil couldn’t hold back his gasp when he heard the slurping noises, and he realized with terrifying clarity that he’d just stumbled onto a feeding vampire.
You’d be hard-pressed to find someone in the city of L’Manburg who wasn’t petrified by the idea of the creatures who survived off of human blood. There were unofficial rules in place to keep people safe— stay inside past sunset, stay near groups of people, and never interrupt a feeding vampire— and Phil had just violated all of them.
He’d always been told his kindness would be the death of him, and he realized with a heavy heart that it was true.
The vampire whipped its head around, abandoning its prey to meet Phil’s eyes. He could feel the power of the gaze, of the thrall that he’d been warned against. Don’t look into a vampire’s eyes, people would whisper on the streets. Once you do, you can only pray for a painless death.
“ Don’t move, and don’t make a sound. ” The vampire snarled at him, the blood coating its face and clothes making the scene look so much more grotesque. When it turned back to the man, it quickly got to work draining him of the rest of his blood. Phil avoided looking at the corpse (or what he assumed to be a corpse. Nobody could survive blood loss that severe) of the man, trying to avoid thinking that’s what he’d be soon.
When the vampire finished, it regarded Phil with bright red eyes. This vampire was obviously a teenager when it was turned— small amounts of baby fat still clung to its cheeks. Phil couldn’t help but to feel bad. He knew that not all vampires were turned willingly.
“ Come here.” It ordered, and Phil couldn’t help the fear that coursed through his veins when his body moved of its own accord. Once he was standing directly before the vampire, it spoke again. “ You can talk. ”
He barely hesitated before he began speaking. "Please, mate, please don't kill me, I, I've gotta get home to my... home to my boys, please ." Phil couldn’t help the tremble in his voice or the tears in his eyes. All he was thinking of were Wilbur and Techno, who would never know what happened to him if he died here. "I won't tell any- any one what I sa-saw. Please , I just want-want to go home ." He felt the tears begin to spill over and roll down his cheeks and felt kind of pathetic, but he’d beg for his life a hundred times if it meant he’d get to see his sons again. They’d already lost their mother-figure, and they’d only just started to recover from it. Phil wouldn’t, he couldn’t leave them.
It might’ve been a trick of the light, but the vampire seemed to frown a little bit before it gasped. Phil froze as it stared him down, wide-eyed. It seemed to be lost in thought, and Phil was much too frightened to interrupt it.
It felt like eternity before the vampire shook its head, growling as it came back to reality. Phil shivered as its cold hand brushed by his cheek, touching the emerald that Kristin had given him.
“ Where did you get this? ” It demanded, glaring at Phil menacingly.
“My wife!” He yelped against his will. “My wife… my wife gave it to me. Both of my bo-boys have one, too.”
Phil could see as the vampire’s expression shifted to something reminiscent of recognition. “Your name.”
Phil didn’t understand what it was asking at first, and the vampire obviously wasn’t pleased by this.
“What. Is. Your. Name? ” It pressed, jabbing its sharp nail into his chest with each word for punctuation. “Don’t tell me you need me to command you.”
Phil shook his head. The vampire’s thrall was an uncomfortable feeling, one that he hoped he never had to feel again for as long as he lived (which honestly might not be that long). “Phil! Well, it’s Philza, but everyone… they all call me Phil.”
The vampire’s eyes widened again and it seemed to be lost in thought for a second time.
“Well, Phil,” It began, and Phil gulped. “ You’re free to go. ”
He felt the thrall release him and he immediately collapsed to the ground, fear rendering him completely useless.
The vampire knelt down beside him, leaning into his ear. “ You won’t remember what I look like or sound like, Philza. ” And then it was gone.
Just like it’d commanded him to, Phil couldn’t seem to recall the vampire’s face.