18 for the ask game. :)
- 18. Share the scene you just wrote, written from another character's pov
This may or may not be from a new incoming fic that may or may not have a lil bb vamp Luke with his daddy casually taking over an entire galaxy over Luke's puppy eyes
The near-human teeth of a fresh acolyte were feather dull compared to his own. Perhaps, he pondered, ghosting tight circles into the baby-soft hands clutched in his prosthetics absentmindedly, it would be less cruel of him to leave the child as he was, at least for the very moment. The growth of the sharper Sith fangs was painful, the days full of constantly throbbing gums only soothed by gentle rubbing and rough bites. His son would get all of these, and more, he vowed, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss into the golden curls tickling his throat. It would be painful, but to see his son grow and flourish into a being the Galaxy would not be able to help but adore would be reward enough.
His musings were cut short by a minute shift in his arms, his attention once more enraptured by the radiance of the haloed star cradled in his hold. The gasping little puffs of air fluttering against his own skin resurfacing the unbridled joy he felt, each shuddering breath a sweet, pure melody to his ears. Thumping quietly against his widespread fingers, the softly fluttering heart weakening with the loss of the vital liquid. He purred reassuringly into the paling skin, planting silk-soft kisses into the fading flesh. He laid a deeper, final kiss right underneath the fragile shell of the child’s ear, softly laughing into the creamy skin when a tickled shiver shuddered through the limp body.
The sole mark on the child’s neck, the raised pinpricks pulsed happily, welcoming his fangs back into the swollen bite. He did not dare taste the nectoral scarlet again, his son far too little and paled to lose even a smidgen more.
The only accompaniment to the first surge of lava-hot venom into the slow pumping blood flowing through the child’s veins was a short, quiet gasp, barely heard over the rumble warming the Sith’s own throat. He hummed soothingly into the golden curls, releasing the fragile neck and massaging his thumb in lazy circles over the purpled mark.
