Chapter Text
Anon. Anon.
The implications. The fucking implications. Vampirism standing in for torture, the Stormbecks and the other vampires like them deriving their pleasure, their very existence, from the lives of others. Gavin, born from ancient Vampires who care nothing for human life. Gavin fed animal blood and raw meat and milk by his caregivers, because babies can’t quite stomach the heady taste of human blood.
Gavin at four years old, sobbing as he stares at his parents who hold a bleeding, trembling plaything in front of him, demanding he take his first drink of human blood in his life and begin his transformation into a mature Vampire. He can choose, and Turn, and be like them – or they can feed on him, just like they fed on the plaything who lays dying on the floor in front of them. “Choose, sweetheart,” his mother says as she licks her fingers clean. “Choose.”
So he does. Of course he does. What else can he do?
He learns to feed. He learns to cause fear. He subsists on others, and of course he does. He’s a Stormbeck. He’s Undead, and this is his due. When he discovers a young mortal on his territory, of course he captures them, plays with them, feeds on them. That’s what Vampires do. That’s what he was born for.
But when another mortal volunteers to take Sam’s place, Gavin is taken aback. He’s never known of another human to act in such a way. Mortals are nothing, they are bloodbags and playthings and nothing else. But he takes Isaac captive, pushing down his doubts. He feeds on Isaac and is startled by how the human submits, tilting his head back for agony in exchange for the life of his sibling. It’s astounding. It makes no sense.
When the mortals escape, he vows to find them again, because he can’t quite forget the look of Isaac’s face screwing up in pain that he took willingly, for the sake of another.
When Gavin captures Tori and Vera, Vera stakes his father and just misses Gavin’s heart with a stake of his own. He barely survives, recovers under the watchful, vengeful eye of his mother, who is all too eager to string him up as bait for those damned humans. He realizes her plan, and escapes. He goes in search of the humans he almost destroyed.
The humans capture him, bind him with silver and muzzle him until they reach the north. When Schiester – a fierce vampire hunter – recognizes him, Gavin is almost staked again and barely escapes because of nothing but the humans’ mercy. He stays in the house with them, and requires no restrains – because where else could he go? He has to be invited into a home, and there is not a house in the North or South that would open their door to him now. He withers and weakens, but refuses to ask the family to let him feed. They bring him raw meat they hunt themselves, and that is enough to keep him alive.
He falls in love with Isaac, and once they are captured by Gavin’s mother, Isaac falls in love with Gavin, too. Gavin’s mother forces him to drink Isaac’s blood until Isaac is pale and weak. But Gavin is stronger than he has been in months. As Isaac weakens, Gavin strengthens. He grows strong enough to break his family out. But on their way out, a guard finds them, raises his gun, and fires…
And yes, I wrote a lil tidbit, because I had to. Content warning for blood, gore, and death.
~
Isaac could see nothing but red. It was all around him, spattered on the floor, staining his hands, burning his eyes. His heart hammered in his chest, aching as if a fist was squeezed around it. In his arms lay Sam: limp, bloodied, choking.
Dying.
“N-no,” Isaac gasped, pressing his fingers into the wound at Sam’s throat to staunch the bleeding. Their blood seemed to burn him, impossibly warm, spurting from the hole torn straight through their neck. The guard that shot them already lay dead on the floor, killed by Vera.
“Sam,” Isaac sobbed, numb with terror. Sam’s eyelids fluttered, and their unfocused gaze slid past Isaac entirely. They jerked in Isaac’s arms, paling, their lifeblood pouring out over Isaac’s hands.
It was more blood than Isaac had seen in his entire life.
“I-Isaa—” Sam gasped and choked, head lolling, hands grasping weakly at Isaac’s. “H-h—”
A flash of pale skin, of dark brown hair, a chill like death was breathing down his neck – then Gavin was at his side, his ghostly pale hand clamped down on Isaac’s sleeve.
Through his panic, Isaac glanced at Gavin, and his stomach lurched. Gavin’s eyes were red, bloodshot, hollowed by shadows as his fangs descended past his lips. Venom gleamed from the tips, and Gavin’s throat worked as he stared down at Sam. Isaac heaved a broken sob and cradled Sam closer, pulling them away from the monster that he’d fallen in love with during this eternity in hell.
“N-no…” Isaac whimpered, clutching Sam tight even as they weakened in his arms. “Gavin, please, no…” He couldn’t drag his gaze away from the razor-sharp fangs that glinted as Gavin pulled his lips back. “Gavin… d-don’t feed, they’ll… Gavin, please …”
Sam choked and sputtered, their eyes rolling back. Their skin was gray, now, the ashen pallor of death that was only moments away. Their fingers loosened on Isaac’s sleeve, and they slumped back. Their blood was coming slower, now, from the wound. Isaac’s vest and pants were soaked in red.
Gavin licked his lips, and those eyes – usually so green, but now reddish-black with thirst – met Isaac’s. Without a word, Gavin brought his wrist to his mouth and tore his teeth through the skin.
Isaac cried out as dark red blood poured from Gavin’s wound. Gavin darted forward, fast and precise as a snake, and pressed his bleeding wrist to Sam’s lips. The blood smeared there, maroon and sickly. Sam coughed, and their blood burbled from the wound at their throat. Gavin forced his hand over Sam’s mouth and held them still, unearthly strong, his eyes still blazing with hunger. They swallowed weakly and gasped, mindless, desperate, dying. Gavin slumped back on his heels and watched, unblinking. Isaac shuddered as Sam’s blood cooled on his clothes.
“Wh-what…” he croaked, tears streaming down his face. “Gavin… what… Sam, no, I… Gavin… what did you…?” He was shaking apart. Every heartbeat stabbed through his chest. He could feel a scream building deep inside him, tearing his throat as it rose, crushing him, pushing him aside and leaving nothing but pain.
“Just wait,” Gavin croaked, his voice desiccated. Isaac knew only too well the sound of Gavin’s voice when he was thirsty. And he bore the wounds at his throat and wrists from when Gavin had been forced to feed, his own mother clutching his hair and holding his mouth against Isaac’s pulse until he gave in, again and again.
“Is-saac…” Sam breathed, pale as death. Their eyes rolled back, and they fell still.
“N-no, NO! ” Isaac roared, shaking Sam, clutching them tight again. “Sam, NO! ” Their chest heaved a meager breath, drawing air into their ruined throat. Isaac felt himself choke on tears.
“Stop, Isaac,” Gavin said roughly, his hand fisted in Isaac’s sleeve. His eyes remained locked on Sam as they drew in another shallow, painful breath. “Let them go. Trust me.” Finally, he tore his gaze from Sam and raised it to Isaac, devastation carved deep into the planes of his face. “They’re… th-they’re Turning.”
Realization struck Isaac like a bullet. His eyes widened and he stared at Gavin, hope barely daring to flutter in his heart. “T-Turning…” he breathed.
“Yes,” Gavin said, hands in fists at his sides. He knelt in Sam’s blood, was stained by it. “But they need to, um… d-die first.”
Isaac whimpered softly. He cradled Sam’s head, brushed their blood-stained hair out of their eyes. They trembled, their chest rising slower, slower – until it stopped. Sam fell still, silent, empty, their lips still stained with Gavin’s blood.
Isaac tipped his head back and sobbed. Even though he knew – he had to believe – that Gavin would save Sam, his heart rent itself in two at the sight of their lifeless body. His sibling. His Sam. Even if they rose again, they wouldn’t be human. Wouldn’t be alive. Isaac would grow old, and age, and die, and Sam would remain youthful, trapped forever at twenty. He whispered their name and kissed the crown of their head, every nerve in his body screaming. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but hold Sam as their body cooled in his arms.
“Wh-what now?” he rasped, and raised his gaze to Gavin’s. Gavin still looked hungry, his eyes sunken, but some of the red fading away. His fangs tucked back behind his lips, and he looked at Isaac. Tears swam in his eyes.
“Give it time,” Gavin said, and slid his cold hand into Isaac’s. “Give it time. A few hours, maybe, and then, um…” Gavin wet his lips and pinned Isaac in place with his entrancing gaze. “Then they’ll, um… n-need to feed.”
-
Oh and uh while I’m here... content warning for mouth whump and self-harm-adjacent blood drinking
Obviously Gavin never uses his venom to ease Isaac’s pain during his first captivity. He prefers for it to hurt.
But when the gang is captured by Gavin’s mother... does Gavin use his venom to ease Isaac’s pain, to keep him calm, pliant, pleasured? Or does he refuse, because he won’t claim Isaac any more than he already has? Is that worse, to make it hurt? It tears him apart, because he doesn’t know. Until finally, Isaac asks. He begs. He wants the pain to stop, yes, but... he also wants Gavin to claim him with his venom, wants to be connected in that way. The next time Gavin’s mother forces Gavin’s mouth against Isaac’s throat, Gavin is ready. He plunges his teeth in, and his venom chases the pain a moment later. Isaac goes limp in Gavin’s arm’s, his pupils blown, his cheeks flushed. Gavin’s mother laughs. “Your father liked them like that, too,” she scoffs. When the guards drag Isaac back to his cell, he burns with shame - but he’s warmed, too, by Gavin’s venom still creeping through his veins.
And when Gavin escapes with his family and is later captured by Schiester... Schiester keeps him caged, muzzled with silver, and harvests his venom to sell as a painkiller in the north. He has to make a living somehow, after all. And yet, every time he forces Gavin’s mouth open to milk the venom from his teeth, he hurts him too, until Gavin can barely stand the thought of using his teeth ever again. Just before DFS is about to stake him, he rips the fangs from Gavin’s mouth, a trophy just like all the others he’s taken. Until Isaac bursts in, kills DFS, and saves Gavin.
Gavin is barely a shadow of himself. He wasn’t given blood once, in his weeks of captivity; he was barely even fed meat. Isaac needs him to feed, so he cuts his wrist with a blade right them and holds his blood against Gavin’s lips. Gavin sobs, but he’s so thirsty. Isaac has to pry Gavin off of him to keep him to bleeding him dry.
After that, whenever Gavin drinks, he must take it directly from a wound of Isaac’s own making. It hurts, but nowhere near as much as Gavin’s fangs would have. It’s a sacrifice Isaac would die to make.