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A bloodfiend will always be haunted by the crushing, horrifying thirst. A drought that never gets better, a deep yearning that never ends. One sip is not enough, no amount was ever enough.
The urges worsen by the day… Even after all the work she had done with her new family, it still wasn’t enough to ignore the endless thirst. Every now and again, Don Quixote would briefly recall the memories. Even with Rocinante as her noble steed, now that she recalled everything at LaMancha Land; the urges had come back.
This curse was only for Don Quixote and her alone to bear, this burden she must endure for the rest of her long life. For a hero mustn’t drink from the innocents like a monster, a dastardly villain. She’d reject the thought entirely each time, going back to the fake blood supplements she had gotten from the LCE. With nobody on the bus noticing, she tore the packet open with her fangs; slurping up the “blood”.
A plasticky aftertaste hit her like a train, she nearly gagged. A real bloodfiend knew the difference from the sanguine elixir and this scarlet slop. The blonde popped a piece of peppermint candy she had in her pocket into her mouth to wash away the lingering aftertaste. She had always adored sweets. The ice cream she adored, chocolates… All of it made her feel the slightest bit of human.
Mephistopheles was quiet tonight as she stayed out on night watch; making sure no syndicates attempted to break in. Usually, she’d use this time to catch up on a couple streams from her favorite fixers; but, she had a job to and a heroic position to fill! Anything to ignore the voice in the back of her head craving blood to hit her tastebuds.
Don Quixote perked her head up at the first sound of footsteps, the familiar, now almost calming scent of cigarette smoke wafting near her nose. She turned to face the woman she had become completely smitten over, Ryoshu. Her hazel eyes lit up with affection, her smile bright yet wolfish; her fangs sticking out. “Ah, it appears mine lovely maiden hath come to join me.”
“What brings thee out tonight, Ryoshu?” She questions with a purr, acting like a puppy whose owner had just come home. The chainsmoker exhales sharply, nothing about her seeming like she was happy to see her girlfriend. However, Don Quixote could tell in the look of her eyes that she was pleased.
“Bored” she replied bluntly, the cigarette hanging off her lips as the smoke plumed around the two. Taking the seat next to her, Ryoshu gazed at her lover; a huff of amusement escaping her throat. “You have the fangs of a predator… T.I.A.” She reached her hand over, tugging on Don Quixote’s mouth to get a better look. Those crimson eyes of her studying every last detail as if scrutinizing a masterpiece.
Don Quixote flushed at the closeness, awkwardly chuckling before nervously pushing Ryoshu’s hand away much to her annoyance. Her fingers intertwined with hers, the nervousness not yet leaving. “Mi amor, mi sol y luna… Thou art quite forward tonight!”
Ryoshu snarks at the dorky, lovey-dovey words; wanting to see those fangs she was so insecure about. But, she did enjoy the held back strength of Don Quixote holding her hand; so she obliged for now. Kicking her foot for a moment, she caught the sound of plastic crinkling. The chainsmoker glanced momentarily at the floor, the discarded, stained plastic wrapper now left on the floor. Was she craving again…?
Don Quixote now had the look of a pet who had just gotten scolded. She nervously bit at her lip, her right leg bouncing as she tried to conjure up an excuse only for no words to come out. Suddenly, she dropped her character for just a split second; feeling more like a beast then somebody achieving their valiant dreams. “…The thirst gets too much. …And that packet tastes abysmal.” She admits shamefully, not even able to make eye contact with her beloved as she continues her confession.
“I do not want to take the blood of innocents… That would make me just like them”
“…Them?” Ryoshu parrots, tilting her head slightly; letting the cigarette burn out as she took one final inhale.
“You know… A monster. A filthy bloodfiend that only takes from the innocent.”
Ryoshu’s thumb strokes the top of Don Quixote’s hand, a silent comfort of hers. She thought to herself for a moment, thinking of a way for this woman to get her fix without ruining that heroism and chivalry she constantly strives for. There was no way she’d be able to go on… Not like this. Besides, maybe if she struck while the iron was hot, she’d finally get to see that bloodfiend again. To see the side she was so ashamed of.
“…D.Q.” Utters the chainsmoker, taking her free hand to tilt the woman’s head up; their gazes meeting. “I have a solution for you.” She replies, as if the answer was very much obvious. With those words spoken, she tilts her head, exposing her neck. There was no way.
She was offering her own blood.
Don Quixote flinched back, almost horrified at such a suggestion. She yelped back, almost pushing herself away from her girlfriend in order to protect her. “No?! Art thou- Are you insane?! Did I not just say I do not wish to hurt innocents??”
Ryoshu simply chuckled, amusement playing on her upturned lips; she had already expected this response. She tugged the blonde back, preparing her explanation. “I’m offering it and i’m not innocent” she spoke of this as if it were a casual joke, another small snicker leaving her as she imagined the feeling of her fangs sinking into her flesh.
“And what if you die? If I hurt you… If I take too much…”
“It’s fine. A.L.A.T.C.T.”
She had a point there. Dante can easily revive her if Don Quixote really went too far. With Rocinante suppressing her bloodfiend side for the most part, it should be fine. She wasn’t hurting any innocents that’s for sure, keeping her status as a chivalrous hero.
“…I shalt take thee up on thine offer”
“But, I beseech thee… Not a word of this to anybody.”
The chainsmoker nods, she wasn’t planning on telling anybody anyway. She was going to keep this little memory all to herself. But, she swore and promised to her anyway. With that, Don Quixote prepared herself to finally have that sanguine liquid waltz on her tongue once more after all these years.
She scooted closer towards her girlfriend, the close proximity practically euphoric to the two of them. Don Quixote was a gentlewoman after all, a chivalrous fixer; she’d make this as delicate as possible. Her lips met the side of Ryoshu’s neck, peppering light kisses along the skin; her fangs teasing the flesh below. The chainsmoker held back a slight exhale, biting her own lip a tad. She was dragging this out, anticipation filling the room as those teeth grazed her skin ever so slightly.
“N.B. …You tease.” Ribbed Ryoshu, a full grin on her face this time. She longed for this moment for a long, long time. Longing to see a glimpse of that bloodfiend who had the strength and power to paint a perfect portrait of destruction and gore. Her arm snakes around her waist, pulling Don Quixote closer. The blonde takes this as a confirmation that she can bite, nodding before hesitantly sinking her fangs into the side of her girlfriend’s neck.
The blood flows right into her mouth with each suck, the taste sublime, almost sweet. Maybe it was simply just because of how much she adored Ryoshu. She let go for a minute, her gratitude coming out in exhilarated pants. “My fairest maiden… Thine blood hath the most saccharine flavor.”
“I shalt not take too much… Not when this holy elixir flows through thine veins and gives mine love life.”
The chainsmoker didn’t even flinch once Don Quixote sunk her fangs back in, she simply sat there; watching with curiosity as the thinnest drop of blood trickled down from the bite mark. The feeling itself wasn’t too painful, though Ryoshu had a decent amount of pain management. She had experimented constantly, almost nothing was new to her. In fact, she actually relaxed against the bus seat; letting Don Quixote graciously suck away and lap up her blood.
She roughly ruffled her hair, silent encouragement to keep going. Another chuckle leaves as she notices Don Quixote holding back with her strength; the woman was absolutely terrified of draining her completely. “Pft… F.A.H.” She whispers, scratching at her scalp as she takes one large, greedy gulp. “That’s it… Drink your fill” Ryoshu encouraged her further, rubbing her back now.
The yearning being fulfilled after all this time made this impromptu blood drinking session all the more intimate. Don Quixote’s body nestles closer as she melts into Ryoshu’s warmth, her heart skipping a beat with each drop of blood. But, she kept to her word; letting Ryoshu go from her bite. Her tongue immediately went to work however, lapping up the excess.
A laugh escaped from Ryoshu once more, keeping her arm around Don Quixote’s waist. Each lick felt wondrous, the light sting from her tongue’s pressure against the wound; how she was lapping this up like a starving animal.
“Easy, girl.” She teases, playfully shoving the woman away before pulling her closer by her tie; enrapturing her with a kiss. The chainsmoker nipped at her own lips between each breath, nearly toppling over the blonde. Once she pulled away, she straddled Don Quixote to the bus seat; her legs keeping her pinned to the leather.
The wannabe hero gazed up at her lover, those hazel eyes of hers… Filled with such care and love for this woman. She dreamily stared for a split moment before remembering she had just drank her blood. She panicked a tad, feeling guilt for letting go like that.
“Thou art faring well…?” She whimpers, fidgeting with her coat. “I didst not hurt thee, did I…? I only agreed to avoid hurting anybody.”
Ryoshu shook her head, scoffing a bit at the idea of her having hurt her that badly. She was clearly holding back. As much as she wanted to see her at her full power and potential, she knew better than to push her that much. “Pft. As much as i’d let you leave me T.P… I’m fine. You’ve given me an insight on brilliant art.”
A sigh of relief left Don Quixote’s mouth as she realized that her maiden was safe and sound. She nestled into the crook of her neck, right where the bite mark was; taking care not to press too hard. “…Thou art the loveliest maiden I hath laid mine eyes on. Offering thine blood up to me…”
She giggled a bit herself, her handsome grin coming back once more; a grin she was only comfortable showing Ryoshu. “I certainly hope Manager Esquire doth not question the mark I left on thee! Or somebody such as Young Rodya… Or perhaps-“ Ryoshu simply shushed her, rolling her eyes at the thought. Let them wonder. It’d certainly be entertaining to watch a bunch of scatterbrains wonder about the meaning of the masterpiece on her neck.
“…Shall I get back to mine post? Or will the lady be joining me?” Don Quixote teasingly asks, praying to the stars above that Ryoshu would stay. The chainsmoker obliges, deciding to remain with her for the night.
After the artwork they collaborated on, she never wanted to leave.