@bloodstainedbarnes / bloodstainedbarnes.tumblr.com
AU where Persons A and B are roommates and A is a vampire and doesn’t even hide it but B just thinks they’re joking all the time.
“Is that wine? Can I have a sip?”
“It’s blood.”
“Haha, whatever you say.”
“Where did you get these sweet fake fangs?”
“They’re real. I’m a vampire.”
“Sure you are, and I’m Bigfoot.”
//I almost feel like this was written for me
In the darkness of the apartment the pale man sat. His fingers tapped the arm of the old ragged armchair he was sitting in and his eyes followed the one-eyed cat that wandered by- seeming to disregard his presence. When the doorknob finally rattled, keys jingling on the other side, his cold eyes left the feline and stared down at the man coming in. With a flash of red and a dull tone he simply said, "Hello, Jakob."
The other sensed someone was in his apartment. Key in hand, he paused, not questioning his intuition, training paranoia, or whatever it was. Gun at his side, he unlocked the door. Stepped in. Ah. He nodded at the nightmare of Chanukah alternate timelines.
He didn’t say anything until he had a bowl of cereal, was sitting on the couch, and had a few bites. The job made him hungry. It was 0300 hours, when all good soldiers were in bed or on duty.
“Yer in my chair, Buckv,” the other drawled, slurping on milk. If he was Buckv, then he was Jakob. There could only be one Bucky at a time.
bloodstainedbarnes:
Buckv gulped as he pulled Jakob close. This time much more gently. Much less threatening. He runs his tongue along his teeth before putting his lips on the base of the prey- no. No! Jakob’s neck. He doesn’t bite immediately. He was this man once. He understands.
Jakob tensed, back to Buckv’s chest. He forced himself to breathe deeply, neck exposed to his older counterpart’s fangs. “Have at it,” he drawled, staring at the wall.
The vampire took a breath... when he let it out onto the other’s neck, it was noticeably cold. The joys of being undead. The moment passed quickly. The fangs bit in, gliding like through butter. Buckv held slightly tighter onto Jakob as he began to drink.
In the darkness of the apartment the pale man sat. His fingers tapped the arm of the old ragged armchair he was sitting in and his eyes followed the one-eyed cat that wandered by- seeming to disregard his presence. When the doorknob finally rattled, keys jingling on the other side, his cold eyes left the feline and stared down at the man coming in. With a flash of red and a dull tone he simply said, "Hello, Jakob."
The other sensed someone was in his apartment. Key in hand, he paused, not questioning his intuition, training paranoia, or whatever it was. Gun at his side, he unlocked the door. Stepped in. Ah. He nodded at the nightmare of Chanukah alternate timelines.
He didn’t say anything until he had a bowl of cereal, was sitting on the couch, and had a few bites. The job made him hungry. It was 0300 hours, when all good soldiers were in bed or on duty.
“Yer in my chair, Buckv,” the other drawled, slurping on milk. If he was Buckv, then he was Jakob. There could only be one Bucky at a time.
bloodstainedbarnes:
Slowly, he let go of the prey- no. His younger self. He rubbed his face and licked his lips, “No. I could never be… mortal again. Crossed that bridge… But…” Buckv pauses as he looks into Jakob’s eyes, willing him to understand, “My Blood… Not someone else’s… in me again.”
Jakob glared, arms crossed. A slow look. Christ, he knew that look. “Okay. Okay. I can blood bag for you.” He yanked off his shirt. “Here.”
Buckv gulped as he pulled Jakob close. This time much more gently. Much less threatening. He runs his tongue along his teeth before putting his lips on the base of the prey- no. No! Jakob’s neck. He doesn’t bite immediately. He was this man once. He understands.
In the darkness of the apartment the pale man sat. His fingers tapped the arm of the old ragged armchair he was sitting in and his eyes followed the one-eyed cat that wandered by- seeming to disregard his presence. When the doorknob finally rattled, keys jingling on the other side, his cold eyes left the feline and stared down at the man coming in. With a flash of red and a dull tone he simply said, "Hello, Jakob."
The other sensed someone was in his apartment. Key in hand, he paused, not questioning his intuition, training paranoia, or whatever it was. Gun at his side, he unlocked the door. Stepped in. Ah. He nodded at the nightmare of Chanukah alternate timelines.
He didn’t say anything until he had a bowl of cereal, was sitting on the couch, and had a few bites. The job made him hungry. It was 0300 hours, when all good soldiers were in bed or on duty.
“Yer in my chair, Buckv,” the other drawled, slurping on milk. If he was Buckv, then he was Jakob. There could only be one Bucky at a time.
bloodstainedbarnes:
“No! You don’t understand! It has to be you- I-” There’s a bit of panic in his eyes as he tries to find the words, “I need my own blood.”
Jakob slowed his struggles, bizarre logic trickled in. “Why? Trying to be mortal again?”
Slowly, he let go of the prey- no. His younger self. He rubbed his face and licked his lips, “No. I could never be... mortal again. Crossed that bridge... But...” Buckv pauses as he looks into Jakob’s eyes, willing him to understand, “My Blood... Not someone else’s... in me again.”
In the darkness of the apartment the pale man sat. His fingers tapped the arm of the old ragged armchair he was sitting in and his eyes followed the one-eyed cat that wandered by- seeming to disregard his presence. When the doorknob finally rattled, keys jingling on the other side, his cold eyes left the feline and stared down at the man coming in. With a flash of red and a dull tone he simply said, "Hello, Jakob."
The other sensed someone was in his apartment. Key in hand, he paused, not questioning his intuition, training paranoia, or whatever it was. Gun at his side, he unlocked the door. Stepped in. Ah. He nodded at the nightmare of Chanukah alternate timelines.
He didn’t say anything until he had a bowl of cereal, was sitting on the couch, and had a few bites. The job made him hungry. It was 0300 hours, when all good soldiers were in bed or on duty.
“Yer in my chair, Buckv,” the other drawled, slurping on milk. If he was Buckv, then he was Jakob. There could only be one Bucky at a time.
bloodstainedbarnes:
The vampire kept Jakob’s arm in his flesh hand- though that wouldn’t do much good, and they both knew it. It was not beneath them- that is, the Bucky’s- to dislocate an arm to get out of a hold. But the other hand- the clinking of metal readjusting was heard as he grabbed his other’s metal arm himself. He laughed, “I have one of those, too. Now sit still. You’re the only one I can do this with.”
Jakob moved to start dislocating the flesh arm- and grunted when the metal arm was pinned. A slew of swears peppered the air. “What the fuck do you mean? You can blood bag anyone!”
“No! You don’t understand! It has to be you- I-” There’s a bit of panic in his eyes as he tries to find the words, “I need my own blood.”
In the darkness of the apartment the pale man sat. His fingers tapped the arm of the old ragged armchair he was sitting in and his eyes followed the one-eyed cat that wandered by- seeming to disregard his presence. When the doorknob finally rattled, keys jingling on the other side, his cold eyes left the feline and stared down at the man coming in. With a flash of red and a dull tone he simply said, "Hello, Jakob."
The other sensed someone was in his apartment. Key in hand, he paused, not questioning his intuition, training paranoia, or whatever it was. Gun at his side, he unlocked the door. Stepped in. Ah. He nodded at the nightmare of Chanukah alternate timelines.
He didn’t say anything until he had a bowl of cereal, was sitting on the couch, and had a few bites. The job made him hungry. It was 0300 hours, when all good soldiers were in bed or on duty.
“Yer in my chair, Buckv,” the other drawled, slurping on milk. If he was Buckv, then he was Jakob. There could only be one Bucky at a time.
bloodstainedbarnes:
Without hesitation Buckv grabbed Jakob’s arm and pulled him onto his lap. He made a show of licking his fangs to show the younger man exactly what he had in mind.
Jakob attempted to pull away, metal arm pushing at Buckv. “Hell no.”
The vampire kept Jakob’s arm in his flesh hand- though that wouldn’t do much good, and they both knew it. It was not beneath them- that is, the Bucky’s- to dislocate an arm to get out of a hold. But the other hand- the clinking of metal readjusting was heard as he grabbed his other’s metal arm himself. He laughed, “I have one of those, too. Now sit still. You’re the only one I can do this with.”
In the darkness of the apartment the pale man sat. His fingers tapped the arm of the old ragged armchair he was sitting in and his eyes followed the one-eyed cat that wandered by- seeming to disregard his presence. When the doorknob finally rattled, keys jingling on the other side, his cold eyes left the feline and stared down at the man coming in. With a flash of red and a dull tone he simply said, "Hello, Jakob."
The other sensed someone was in his apartment. Key in hand, he paused, not questioning his intuition, training paranoia, or whatever it was. Gun at his side, he unlocked the door. Stepped in. Ah. He nodded at the nightmare of Chanukah alternate timelines.
He didn’t say anything until he had a bowl of cereal, was sitting on the couch, and had a few bites. The job made him hungry. It was 0300 hours, when all good soldiers were in bed or on duty.
“Yer in my chair, Buckv,” the other drawled, slurping on milk. If he was Buckv, then he was Jakob. There could only be one Bucky at a time.
bloodstainedbarnes:
“You two are such a mess… You really ought to start taking care of your home.” His eyes flashed red for a second and then he pat his lap, “C’mere.”
“Going to clean up when your sorry ass leaves.” Jakob froze, staring at those eyes. He attempted to fight it but it was a command. He stood up and walked over to Buckv.
Without hesitation Buckv grabbed Jakob’s arm and pulled him onto his lap. He made a show of licking his fangs to show the younger man exactly what he had in mind.
In the darkness of the apartment the pale man sat. His fingers tapped the arm of the old ragged armchair he was sitting in and his eyes followed the one-eyed cat that wandered by- seeming to disregard his presence. When the doorknob finally rattled, keys jingling on the other side, his cold eyes left the feline and stared down at the man coming in. With a flash of red and a dull tone he simply said, "Hello, Jakob."
The other sensed someone was in his apartment. Key in hand, he paused, not questioning his intuition, training paranoia, or whatever it was. Gun at his side, he unlocked the door. Stepped in. Ah. He nodded at the nightmare of Chanukah alternate timelines.
He didn’t say anything until he had a bowl of cereal, was sitting on the couch, and had a few bites. The job made him hungry. It was 0300 hours, when all good soldiers were in bed or on duty.
“Yer in my chair, Buckv,” the other drawled, slurping on milk. If he was Buckv, then he was Jakob. There could only be one Bucky at a time.
bloodstainedbarnes:
“Not as weird as putting your food bowl on the floor when there’s a table right in front of you.” The vampire leaned back in his chair and continued to watch the other of himself. “There was a time in your life when you would be concerned of my presence.”
Scoffing, Jakob put his feet on the table, kicking some of the used dishes and snacks to the floor. “When ya see what we’ve seen,” he pointed between the two of them, “Classic horror tends to be less… Concerning.”
“You two are such a mess... You really ought to start taking care of your home.” His eyes flashed red for a second and then he pat his lap, “C’mere.”
In the darkness of the apartment the pale man sat. His fingers tapped the arm of the old ragged armchair he was sitting in and his eyes followed the one-eyed cat that wandered by- seeming to disregard his presence. When the doorknob finally rattled, keys jingling on the other side, his cold eyes left the feline and stared down at the man coming in. With a flash of red and a dull tone he simply said, "Hello, Jakob."
The other sensed someone was in his apartment. Key in hand, he paused, not questioning his intuition, training paranoia, or whatever it was. Gun at his side, he unlocked the door. Stepped in. Ah. He nodded at the nightmare of Chanukah alternate timelines.
He didn’t say anything until he had a bowl of cereal, was sitting on the couch, and had a few bites. The job made him hungry. It was 0300 hours, when all good soldiers were in bed or on duty.
“Yer in my chair, Buckv,” the other drawled, slurping on milk. If he was Buckv, then he was Jakob. There could only be one Bucky at a time.
bloodstainedbarnes:
The vampire gave a side smile, showing one of his fangs. Every step Jakob made was watched. When his place was questioned he tapped the arm of the chair, “This is my chair. The timeline hasn’t split yet. You could still become me.”
Jakob rolled his eyes, placing the bowl on the floor. “Way to make it weird,” he scoffed.
“Not as weird as putting your food bowl on the floor when there’s a table right in front of you.” The vampire leaned back in his chair and continued to watch the other of himself. “There was a time in your life when you would be concerned of my presence.”
In the darkness of the apartment the pale man sat. His fingers tapped the arm of the old ragged armchair he was sitting in and his eyes followed the one-eyed cat that wandered by- seeming to disregard his presence. When the doorknob finally rattled, keys jingling on the other side, his cold eyes left the feline and stared down at the man coming in. With a flash of red and a dull tone he simply said, "Hello, Jakob."
The other sensed someone was in his apartment. Key in hand, he paused, not questioning his intuition, training paranoia, or whatever it was. Gun at his side, he unlocked the door. Stepped in. Ah. He nodded at the nightmare of Chanukah alternate timelines.
He didn’t say anything until he had a bowl of cereal, was sitting on the couch, and had a few bites. The job made him hungry. It was 0300 hours, when all good soldiers were in bed or on duty.
“Yer in my chair, Buckv,” the other drawled, slurping on milk. If he was Buckv, then he was Jakob. There could only be one Bucky at a time.
The vampire gave a side smile, showing one of his fangs. Every step Jakob made was watched. When his place was questioned he tapped the arm of the chair, “This is my chair. The timeline hasn’t split yet. You could still become me.”
Like for a starter. I’ll put it in a random verse. If you would prefer to choose the verse, message me.
As of this moment all of my old threads are getting dropped. It’s just been too long to go back to them. If you’d like a new rp, you can write a starter and throw it in my ask box or go to my ask box and we can privately discuss something.
I’m gonna try to be here. I’m not over losing my dad. The spark isnt’t completely here. But I’m gonna try.
//Repost for the daytime crowd.
As of this moment all of my old threads are getting dropped. It’s just been too long to go back to them. If you’d like a new rp, you can write a starter and throw it in my ask box or go to my ask box and we can privately discuss something.
I’m gonna try to be here. I’m not over losing my dad. The spark isnt’t completely here. But I’m gonna try.
Life after the argument had started passing like a blur to Bucky. For a few days, all he could think of was the look in his best friend’s eyes as he called him unhelpable. He couldn’t close his eyes without seeing it. He couldn’t sit and think without hearing Steve’s voice saying those words. And yes, he thought about what he had said as well. He felt guilty, to be sure, but he wanted to express to Steve that he didn’t want the blood to become a drug to him. He loved the taste and he knew if he drank too much that was what it would become. That Steve would become just a cup to him. Why couldn’t he properly express those feelings? What had he said wrong to turn Steve against him like that?
And his own words had been ringing in his mind when he turned the gun over a few times in his hands that cold, awful night. ‘No one can help me,’ he had said, in return to Steve’s proposition of such. And he had thought for the first time since he finally became himself after is escape from Hydra that maybe that really was true. If that was true, of course, then he would only get worse. If he got worse, then everyone near him was in true danger. The licked his lips and pointed the gun at the tree in front of him. Almost pulled the trigger, but didn’t want to draw the park cops close to him. It was shady enough that he was there in the deep darkness of the night. No one could help him. It was time he accepted that he was no longer human, and that humans were not going to help him and not going to trust him… in return, he would give them the same treatment. They wouldn’t be helped. They wouldn’t be trusted. They were food.
He left the gun where he had been sitting that night. Nothing would be solved with that one bullet.
People began disappearing after that, never to be seen again. Bucky started doing his best to leave his old feelings of ‘protecting the humans’ behind him. He felt hurt and betrayed, but those feelings shouldn’t mean anything to a vampire to him. He had lost a friend, but vampires did not need nor deserve any. He let Steve disappear into his past. Gone like his human life. He stayed in the city but not because of that old friend… more because there was no purpose in leaving. What for? To save himself from meeting the Captain again? If he came across that man, they’d fight. One of them would lose. He didn’t prepare for it… just accepted it as an inevitability and went about his business of sleeping, hunting, feeding…
So when he did see Steve in his jacket, walking the streets at night when he could easily be on his bike, Bucky let his soon-to-be victim go. The man scrambled with a whine to run away from his attacker. Off to find the police, but Bucky didn’t care. He’d be gone before they got to him. The vampire stood, staring with tired, glowing red eyes, at Steve from across the street. He waited for the human to realise he was there.
This was the night. Steve would be coming to stop him.
The words he’d said to Bucky were constantly churning inside of his head. So much of what he said had been said out of anger, out of frustration and none of it were things he’d meant. He honestly couldn’t believe the things he’d said. When had he turned into someone so cruel and cold? When had he turned into someone who didn’t care about others, who gave up so damn easily? That wasn’t the man Steve was, it wasn’t he man he’d fought hard to become and it wasn’t the man he wanted to be going forward. Fixing the damage wouldn’t be easy but he knew it was something he could do. And the first thing he had to do was find Bucky. His friend had to be the first one he apologised to, he had to be the first one he made amends to. Except the problem he had was finding him. How could he find someone who knew exactly how to disappear? It had been pure luck the last time he found him. This time it wouldn’t be any easier.
He spent the first few nights just wandering the city, trying to figure out any sort of pattern to the location he remembered finding him last. Nothing ever came from it but he had to try. Bucky had always been there for him growing up and now that he cold finally be there for his best friend he’d turned his back on him. No wonder Bucky had left. Had things been different, had the shoe been on the other foot Steve would’ve left, too. Except they weren’t and he had to find his friend. Not only for the safety of the city but for the safety of the other man, too. He knew what could happen should people realise just what Bucky was. Hunters of some sort would flood the city and once again he’d lose him. It wasn’t something he could let happen. Somehow he had to find his friend. One way or another he would. Even if it took scouring the city from top to bottom he would find his friend and bring him back.
Time continued to pass and each night he returned to his apartment without any progress was a night he considered a failure. He knew Bucky was out there in the city, he knew the man was doing a damn good job of sticking to the shadows and if he really wanted to find him he’d have to work harder. Steve was already working as hard as he could and had it not been for the bodies disappearing he might have given up. But they were disappearing, no bodies ever showing up and he heard the whispers of some sort of serial killer. That’s how he knew it was Bucky. He didn’t expect his friend to go to those extremes but then again his words had been cruel, they’d been harsh, and they were most likely what sent the other man over the edge. Could he even bring the man back? Would he want someone to bring him back? He didn’t know. All he could do was try and hope that somewhere in there was the man he once knew.
This night was like all the others. He’d pulled his jacket closer as he wandered the streets in search for his friend. Movement from the other side of the street caught his attention but it wasn’t what actually kept it. Standing there like there was nothing wrong at all, like they hadn’t had the blowout fight they had. “Bucky,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Steve wasn’t even certain he was real or if this was some sort of strange dream. His brows furrowed together as the continued to stand there and stare across the street. It had to have been real. He blinked more than a few times and the image was still there. But would he run if he crossed the street? There was only one way to find out, and looking both ways he darted across the street, stopping only when he they were both on the same side of the street. Again his eyes were focused on the other and the only thing he could say was, “Bucky.”
Bucky.
The vampire stood his ground. Stared out at the man who was whispering that foreign name into the night. It was strange how he could abandoned that name so quickly... Strange, but satisfying. Or it would have been if it wasn’t resurfacing now of all times. The vampire expected a fight. He expected a death. And he had to remind himself to keep that name in the past where it belonged.
Steve was advancing. With each step that mortal man took, the vampire could feel the saliva coming. That beautiful, wonderful smell that Steve’s blood had... if he won the fight, he would suck that mortal dry. He had no reservations about it. After all, the friendship they had was, in his mind, long dead and buried as he himself should have been.
“You’re an idiot, Rogers. Don’t you watch the news? No mortal survives a run-in with me,” he slurped his drool back, then looked over his shoulder and muttered indignantly, “Well... except for one, thanks to you...”
Steve nodded and looked at Bucky, quiet for a long moment. A mischievous glimmer flickered in his baby blues. The younger night-child lent forward, starting to trail slow kissing up Bucky’s neck.
“Mmm, I thought you wanted to learn?” he cooed as he enjoyed the little kisses. He tilted his head out of the way to give Steve more access to his neck, “Not that I mind taking a break.”
“Breaks are always good…” He mumbled against Bucky’s neck. Steve hummed, playfully nipping just below his ear. “Besides, I missed this.” Steve’s hands slid down Bucky’s chest, loving how close they were.
The elder rested his hands on Steve’s outer thighs and gently snuggled his cheek against Steve’s, “Then who am I to interfere?”
