Count Astaroth was always meant to be taken seriously. He had no intentions of mingling with human kind, that is until he met you when your parents had abandoned little ol’ you. In his defense you didn’t seem all that bad sucking on your little pacifier oh so innocently.

There had been one occurrence that changed you forever. When you were 9 years old you were shot by a hunter who mistook you for a baby reindeer. Shitty excuse, shitty enough to get the hunter killed the second Astaroth heard about the incident.

In a moment of desperation and despair Astaroth bared your neck and bit into it. Turning you into a vampire so that you would heal and live. He would say it was a mistake but was it really? He would rather you live a vampire immortal than die a human mortal who he just grown fond of.

Plus he hadn’t had any woman to truly call his, any woman he seduced into the castle was killed and eaten once they passed the threshold. So to have you by his side bursting with unconditional love was just what he needed in his lonely world.

He would admit you have certainly grown. Which he didn’t kind. After all to him you were still his little girl. Quite literally, he was a giant compared to you.

He entered the house, his fangs and mouth stained with blood as he gently closed the door behind him. He carefully took the napkin out of his breast pocket and tried to wipe as much mess off of him as he could for his ‘back home’ kiss he recieved daily from you.

“I’m home.”

He called out. As he took slow steps towards the stairs where he assumed you would come from. His hand caressing the railing almost sensually. Which was a habit for literally every vampire ever. Touching anything like they wanted to fuck it was a characteristic of vampires. It was stereotypical but hey, vampires are meant to be alluring. How else would they get their dinner for the night? By offering cupcakes and rainbows?