#vampire!richie

[kalsiferdraws]

When the "big brother" of the group thinks you took the joke too far

[femmescooter]

A Maine Vampire in LA

It wasn’t that hard, being a famous vampire in LA. Not nearly as hard as opening for a chronically-late heroin addict and having to improvise another tight five while the audience only seemed interested in shouting out guesses about her bra size.

Fuck you, Dave.

And fuck Richie too for turning that story into a bit for her West Coast tour.

But now she was rich and famous. She hardly remembered having to crouch behind a dumpster, sucking down radioactive rat blood.

New York was a toxic place to try and start a comedy career, literally and figuratively, and she had skipped town for sunny LA while trying to figure out why the fuck she had tried to live in that hellhole in the first place. The pizza wasn’t even that good.

Not that she knew.

Richie was a non-sleeping, non-eating, blood-sucking monster, a walking corpse barely animated by preying on innocents, but hey. So were all her friends in the industry. At least she never forgot to wear sunscreen.

Once a month, a guy who didn’t ask questions or tell her anything showed up at her door with a tasteful glass bottle. It wasn’t human, that much she knew. He had been hired by Steve, who also didn’t ask questions and refused to hear anything past: “So I’ll need blood delivered once a week—.”

She was happy like this, until. Until a phone call. Until a frantic flight to Maine, nauseated by memories.

Until she locked eyes with Emily Kaspbrack.

She wanted, so badly. Richie hadn’t drunk human blood since—

Since Emily, offering her palm, as Richie cried on her sewer-filthy shoulder and drank the blood out of the cut and cried and drank and cried and drank until Emily said she was getting dizzy. Richie had ran away from her so fast that Emily had to show up at her window that night, furious and stubborn and lovely, and say: “You’re my best friend. IT changed you, whatever, but don’t be stupid.”

She had to sit there re-remembering, as the others ate their Chinese food, how she had fed from Emily and Richie burned from the inside out.

It had been the best thing she’d ever tasted, over and over again. The other losers had offered and Emily had gotten weird and snapped at them and clambered over Richie like it was okay. It was okay to be a monster and drink her best friend’s blood because they were RichieandEmily.

The slimy truth of self-hatred, always writhing in her dead veins, drove her outside to try and smoke out the overwhelming need for Emily’s blood.

Emily didn’t even try to sneak up on her outside, just stomped right over from the door and snatched the lit cig out of her hand, grinding it out before Richie had a chance to complain.

Richie, trying to pretend like her hands weren’t shaking with the overwhelming image of her blood on her tongue, raised on eyebrow. “Here to give me a health lecture, pipsqueak?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Emily’s cheeks were so pink, visible even in the night air. Richie was pretty sure she was close to drooling. “Bite me.”

Richie tried not to wince. “Poor choice of words.”

“I’m being literal, asshole. Bite me.”

This was too much. “Emily, no—“

“Richie.” Emily’s voice was deadly serious and her big brown eyes were locked on hers with the intensity of a religious martyr. “I have missed you my whole life. I want you to get over yourself and bite me.”

Richie was now pretty sure she was close to crying instead. “Ems, I can’t.”

“Sure you can.” Emily snuck her arms around her waist, peeking up at her. She smelled so delicious, like warmth and life and sunlight. Richie just wanted a taste of it, just enough to keep her going…

Emily reached up and wrapped her fingers in Richie’s hair, gently but insistently pulling towards the divot where her shoulder met her neck. “You must be hungry after all those years. And we’re going to kill a clown tomorrow. If IT gets to you because you were too stupid to take what I can give you, I’ll reanimate you just to drive a stake through your heart.”

Richie let out a low groan, lips pressed to the soft barrier of her skin. Her blood pulsed below her mouth, as inviting as anything she’d ever know.

“If anything happens to you,” Richie said, voice rough, “I’m burning this town to the ground.”

Emily laughed and Richie sank her teeth into bliss.

[kinghanscom]

someone requested witch!eddie and vampire!richie and i needed to practice backgrounds so,, voila

[beepbeeprichiellc]

Werewolf!Eddie Vampire!Richie 

His entire body was on fire, the muscles along his back contracting with such force that he was thrown to his knees. The wolf inside of him whimpered as it cowered under the rising sun, desperately trying to escape it’s rays. Eddie felt the pull of his humanity, his consciousness slowly returning as the monster under his skin began to wither back into it’s cage. With one final howl his human form returned, leaving him bare and exposed on the forest floor. 

Familiar tears streamed down his face, the pain subsiding, replaced by his usual fear and humiliation. He had been through the change a thousand times, in a thousand different ways but it always ended the same. Sometimes he was left with blood on his hands, the copper seemingly embedded into his pores, sometimes he was lucky enough to be left clean. 

Today it was blood. 

He trembled as his eyes caught a glimpse of his hands, the crimson tainting his porcelain skin.  A sob ripped though him, the faint image of flesh running though his mind. “Oh god, what have I done?” He whispered, crumbling into himself. 

“It was a deer.” 

Eddie lifted his head, finally noticing the stoic figure only a few feet away from him. He dropped his gaze in shame, “Just a deer? Are you sure?” 

The other boy nodded, pulling a fleece blanket form his pack and moving close enough to throw it over Eddie’s shaking shoulders. “I followed you, kept hikers and campers away. Figured a deer would be a good prize for him.” 

“I’m so sorry Richie.” Eddie choked, “You didn’t have to-”

“It’s what we do Eds, remember?” He replied softly, pulling his friend to his feet, careful not to cut him with his sharpened nails. “We look out for each other.”

Eddie could smell the death in his breath, his cold body making him shutter subconsciously. Even being dead, Richie was more alive than Eddie had ever allowed himself to be. “Yeah.” He agreed, leaning into his friend’s touch. “I remember.” 

“Let’s go home.” Richie muttered, leading the exhausted monster away from his nightmare. 

Eddie only nodded as he followed. 

[softest-nerd-freddie]

Don’t mess with your human

Pairing: Stozier

Word count: 1347

(A/N) short one-shot no one asked for. shamelessly bassed off of this post, especially off those answers in this screenshot. tl;dr: Richie is a vampire and Stan is mad at him. Also, I need fluff.

PS. - I used a headcannon that Richie calls Stan “Stanford” whenever the latter is mad at him and he wants to cheer him up or to jokingly argue with him. That’s it, bye.

PS2 - can someone please teach me how to title stuff because i suck at this.

“You're not serious.”

Richie wasn't asking. He was too shocked to care about such nuances. He just stood there in the doorway watching Stan who was happily playing with his new earrings.

“Oh I sure am.”

“Stanford, explain yourself.”

There was a smirk playing on Richie's lips, for a moment he thought it's just a joke. Seriously, this whole situation seemed like a bad sketch that Richie would laugh his ass off any other day at, but seeing Stan only raise his eyebrow, visibly not willing to do any explaining there was no laughing coming.

“Silver earrings. I can't even come near you and have to shout from across the room! Do you think this is funny? Silver? Holy fuck, and I'm the murderous one, right?”

The big quote signs Richie made in the air didn't impress Stan at all, heck, he didn't even see him as the moment his boyfriend started his rant he turned on his heels and went to the kitchen to make himself some tea.

“And you won't even talk to me. Right Stan, be the mature, responsible adult and be mad for no reason at all! That's fine! I'm just gonna sit here and hopefully not fucking die!”

He was exaggerating big time and Stan knew it. He might have been a vampire but silver wasn't deadly to him. To his grandfather, maybe, but for Richie it was just really uncomfortable and it was enough for Stan at the moment.

“You're heartless and I hate you.”

Richie finally whined and left the apartment.

“Three, two, one-” Not taking eyes from the ginger root he was cutting, Stan whispered under his breath - right after he finished, the door opened again and Richie stormed inside.

“You could have at least get mad at night when I can leave dramatically and not be burned by the fucking sun.”

---

Taking Stan out that day was perfect soft boiled egg level of difficulty - which means not that hard but Richie struggled anyway. Stan hadn’t spoke a word whole day, but when sun finally hid it’s ugly face, he agreed to leave their house. The fair was in town and there was no way in the world he would miss it.

“So what do you want to do? A rollercoaster? You know how I love rollercoasters! Or! Go-karts! Or maybe you want me to win you a big teddy bear?”

Richie elbowed Stan slightly, wiggling his eyebrows. Stan didn’t want to talk so Richie’s plan was to talk for them both. In the best scenario Stan would finally get annoyed and say damn words trying to shut him up, in the worst - Richie wasn’t surrounded by silence anymore.

“Nah.”

It was his only answer, not really aimed at anything Richie said. Richie felt stung by it - it seemed almost like not only hadn’t he been talking but also listening.

“Stan-”

“Oh, here it is!”

Richie followed Stan, who didn’t even spare him a glance, with his head towards big coach ahead of them. There, with big, eye-fucking shiny letters was written “the hall of mirrors”. Richie let out a loud squeak he had no idea he’s capable of.

“Stan, if you go there, I swear-”

But Stan only saluted him with a mischievous smile and disappeared inside.

“Fuck you, Uris! Seriously, fuck you!”

“Language, you asshole! This is public place!”

Before Richie could turn around to see who is bothering him in his relationship crisis, he felt something hit his head, so he instinctively guard it with his arm. He corrected his glasses that slid off his nose and saw a woman who was covering her son’s ear with one hand and was preparing to hit him again with her purse.

---

“You couldn’t take any longer, could you?!”

About thirty minutes later, or what felt for Richie like thirty hours, Stan finally left the hall with a wide smile covering his face. He made his way towards his poor boyfriend who was almost laying on the bench nearby and kicked him slightly on the calf.

“Come on, Rich. Let’s get something to eat.”

“You’re lucky I’m starving and was actually waiting for you.”

Richie mumbled but sighed with a relief. Stan didn’t seem to be mad anymore so that’s something. Worth waiting for him outside, alone, even though it was supposed to be a date. He followed him to a nearby food stand with fast food.

“So, Stan. Are you still mad at me?”

“I’d like one hot dog. With garlic sauce.”

Richie groaned loudly in exasperation and defeat, startling the girl who dropped the sausage back to the tank.

“Fine. I’m taking bus home. See you, traitor.”

---

Richie arrived at home about two hours after Stan. He was slowly getting worried that he’s not going to come back at all but when he heard the keys rattle behind the closed doors he calmed down. He watched his boyfriend walk inside, but instead of expected fountain of rant and emotions, maybe some playing on Stan’s conscience, he just passed him by in their living room and dropped face down on the couch.

Stan only rolled his eyes and let out a small laugh. Okay, that was it. Even he couldn’t be mean anymore when he saw Richie like that.

“Riichiie.”

He sang melodiously his name, but except for deep sigh that made Stan think about a kid mad at their mom for not letting them eat one more cookie, he didn’t get any response. He repeated it again, this time adding a soft stroke on his back.

“Fuck off, Stanford, I’m sleeping here today.”

Stan chuckled at his nickname and now being sure that Richie is not mad, maybe a little bit sad or disappointed, he jumped over the couch and lied flat on Richie’s back, sliding his hands under Richie’s stomach and planting a soft kiss behind his ear.

“So I’m sleeping here with you, trashmouth.”

“Stan, get off of me, you’re gonna make me si-”

Richie tried to wiggle out from under his boyfriend’s body, but stopped when he, well, felt nothing.

“Wait, what’s with your piercing? And the garlic?”

In that moment Stan wished that rolling eyes would make any sound, because Richie couldn’t see him doing it. Instead he sighed really loud.

“Come on, Richie. Do you really think I would hurt you on purpose? The earrings were fake, I took them off when I came back home. I wouldn’t pierce myself just to piss you off, don’t fawn yourself darling.”

“And garlic?”

“Please! I don’t even know if what they put in the hot dog is meat so I can’t be sure if it’s kosher! Also, I hate garlic. I gave it away to some random dude when you left.”

There was a moment of silence between them, Richie processing what he has just heard and Stan waiting, playing with dark locks under his chin.

“So this whole day, it was just- a prank? Did Stanley Uris really- pranked me?”

Stan chuckled at this, not denying that the idea of pranking Richie Tozier was flattering.

“I have to admit that at first I was a bit mad, you scared away that bird I was trying to take a photo of. But after the fake piercing everything else was just a joke.”

“Oh come on, you got mad because of that? Seriously? If I did it on purpose, then of course. But you know it’s- it’s my smell! Animals feel this kind of things. I can’t just- stop smelling!”

Richie laughed, partly with disbelief, partly with relief.

“I know you can’t. But you can just not join me when I’m out.”

“Oh really. After this whole day you dare to tell me that you choose birds over me. I’m glad you have a special place for me in your heart. Right after your birds, a special place, covered in smelly bird poo-”

Stan shifted slightly on Richie’s back to have better access to his face and just shut him up with a kiss.

“Even on poopy throne, you’ll always be my number one, Rich.”

perma-stozier-tag: @plsshutuprichie <3

[kalsiferdraws]

No biting Richie!

Honestly I’m thriving